#or whether or how to trigger tag it

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

there was a post someone beloved sent me a few minutes ago. i queued it. but i'm stealing from my own tags to start this:

hope is an eagle, wings and feathers and talons, light and unreachable and endless; hope is a dog, soft and close and excitable, here and there and everywhere; hope is a rabbit, small and shy and easily spooked; hope is a raccoon, found in even the darkest and most wretched places;

hope is a knife, cutting deep into dark desires; hope is a noose, wrapping around and around; hope is a gun, ever ready to make its presence known; hope is a poison, never letting go, changing everything it comes into contact with

[screaming-sparrow]

i forgave everybody, i gave up, i got drunk. (captain jack harkness and his relationship with alcohol)

[slice-of-magenta]

I've been trying to write this in my fic wips but I have tried and failed. Numerous of times. So I'm going to write it as a small observation about parralels that may have been mentioned already, or not.

I've noticed the scene from S5 (routinely pushes this scene down a flight of stairs 🤍), where Stiles literally hits Scott against a wall and throws Scott to the floor in the hospital. I couldn't help but notice how similar this is to the memory where Claudia throws a younger stiles to the ground on the hospital roof back in s3 maybe (correct me)? When they first really talked about Claudia. This was only a vivid memory however. Where Claudia was still alive and suffering with frontotemporal dementia.

Stiles was defenseless against his mom as she shouts in this memory and had pushed Stiles to the ground. She was telling him that he was trying to kill her even when that wasn't true. Stiles was raising his hands to protect his face from her hitting him as Noah tried prying her away from hitting her own son.

And then we have Scott defenseless and severely injured underneath stiles (remember- his chest wound), putting his hands weakly in front of himself when Stiles is yelling down at him. "WHERE WERE YOU." And the adults had to pry him away too.

I'm not a fan of it and I think the writers writing stiles off as not at fault for replicating the behavior was a big 'no no.' Didn't apologize. And this is one of the times where I truly rejected canon because the fight was written... Terribly (without a good resolve, in my opinion, and I'll always say that unfortunately). but I loved spotting this parallel. I hope I worded it coherently.

[thethingything]

I found a case study where someone was on Ciprofloxacin (the antibiotic that permanently fucked us up) and then put on Clarithromycin (the one we've just been on) and ended up on a psych ward because of the psychiatric side effects of the Clarithromycin, and apparently they wore off within a week so I guess that's something? maybe?

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i have a lot of complicated feelings about Fucked Upness as portrayed in fiction, and about my reactions to it both conscious and visceral, and i think a lot of it comes down to how so often my relationship to a piece of media is informed by pointing past the text at the author and going 'i see you back there you punk ass bitch'

[straykats]

i want to talk about what i want to write about but i also dont want to confess and immortalise/acknowledge how personal such a piece would be for me

[tripably]

The way my own brain tries to sabotage my attempt at obtaining a healthier relationship with food is astonishingly irritating, mostly due to being so unbelievably illogical.

When my body started screaming about being ravenously hungry approximately two hours ago, my brain sent out an immediate, automated, unrepliable response along the lines of "No food necessary. You can't possibly be hungry, you've not even done anything today".

As if I haven't been up for, what, 11 hours, majority of which trying to internalize everything I possibly can regarding my new job, on just two cups of coffee and a small bowl of pasta. As if thinking and learning new things wouldn't require energy.

Or no, in fact, as if the task of having sustained the bodily functions of an actual real life person for the past 30 years including today couldn't possibly require more energy than whatever is in 100 grams of white pasta with trace amounts of feta cheese and olive oil, a couple of cherry tomatoes, and maybe a desilitre of oat milk.

As if I would somehow (how????) need to earn the right to, what, keep sustaining said bodily functions? In the eyes of whom, my own brain? Surely not that brain, the one that is in fact included in those bodily functions that apparently aren't significant enough to deserve to go on uninterrupted??

Like does this brilliant brain of mine seriously believe that starving myself is somehow an option that leads to a good outcome? Have we not seen enough logical proof against that? Have we not read enough articles about the ineffectiveness and dangers of diet culture?

And if reading about it really is not enough: have we not been doing that for the past 15 years with whatever is the the opposite of success? How fucking long do we have to keep repeating the same fucking behaviour before accepting the fact that it is not fucking working??????

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[ars-matron]

I really need to talk for a minute about this new mobile update and how much I as a legally blind person hate whatever the hell is going on with the photos and how it's making this app nearly impossible for me to use

I'm not sure the same thing is happening on the desktop version but for those who may not know in the app whenever you tap on a photo it used to just pop up and you could double tap to enlarge it and zoom in and scroll around and all was great.

A double tap now likes the photo and it must be pinched and pulled to zoom in and out. A mild annoyance, and nothing compared to the rest of the update. If you scroll up, which I do frequently when trying to navigate an enlarged photo, it will send you to ANOTHER photo based on the tags of the post.

That's right, a completely different photo!!! A feature no one asked for and no one wants!! This isn't facebook, or instagram, and maybe tiktok but I never had that so this is a guess. When I click on the photo I only want to see that photo (or in the case of multiple photos in a post I want to be able to easily scroll side to side for those). I do not want to be taken to another post!!! Also if you scroll too far to the left you are then sent to the profile of the person who reblogged the post. I do not know why. Who wants this feature? Is it a feature at all?

As someone who only taps on a photo because I cannot see it and I need to enlarge it, this is beyond a simple annoyance. I cannot navigate the photo like I need, there's a hair trigger on whether it sends you to a new post completely or if you are sent to the profile of the reblogger. Neither, again, are things I want. this leaves me having to back track a lot, re-zoom the photo as it reverts back to normal, and hope dearly that this time I can just read the damned text before it freaks out again.

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this outside of the tags, but really this is making the app unusable for me, and I'm sure for many others.

@staff I know you guys haven't cared about your disabled community much in the past (other photo updates that stopped allowing me to zoom into gifs is proof of that) but please don't make this app unusable for me. I would rather not have to leave.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omega verse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, double-pen, gangbang kinda, tag-team

fem reader

It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.

You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind. 

The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop. 

He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.

Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him. 

It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up. 

It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.

But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…

The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.

You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.

The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.

The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter. 

He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.

He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.

It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.

But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you… 

But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.

It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.

You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while. 

When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.

He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face. 

He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.

He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward. 

You can only mew as he mounts you next. 

His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.

Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.

He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.

It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.

He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.

The felines are less spastic. 

But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.

But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.

They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you. 

They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.

The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.

It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him. 

The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.

When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.

Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.

You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them. 

They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.

After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.

The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.

He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.

He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you. 

He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.

Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly. 

The size of it makes you pant.

You’re glad he’s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.

The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.

There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says. 

It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.

He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.

All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.

He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.

It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild. 

With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.

He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.

Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.

It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.

Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.

part 1

Owner: BNHA - Aizawa, AFO JJK - Nanami, Kenjaku HQ - Ukai

Hyena: BNHA - Shigaraki JJK - Mahito HQ - Tendou

Wolf: BNHA - Bakugou, Dabi JJK - Sukuna, Noaya HQ - Sakusa

Fox: BNHA - Kirishima, Denki, Deku, Amajiki JJK - Yuji, Yuuta, Choso HQ - Hinata, Nishinoya

Leopard & Panther: BNHA - Denki & Shinso, Hawks & Dabi JJK - Gojo & Geto HQ - Miya twins, Oikawa & Kageyama, Kuro & Kenma

Bear: BNHA - Enji, Aizawa, All Might, Mirio JJK - Toji, Nanami, Higuruma HQ - Daichi, Ushijima

[thekinslayed]

Forget-Me-Not

summary | Aemond's devotion for his wife deepens as they navigate her recovery together

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | fluff, hurt/comfort, memory loss, injury, ooc aemond

wordcount | 2k

note | something short and sweet because i was inspired by the little crumb we got today <3 (here's some info on the flowers mentioned!)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

song rec | My Jinji - Sunset Rollercoaster

(dividers by @saradika)

It was midday, and Aemond had been reading in their chambers after the council meeting when the door opened. She walked into the room and looked around, surprised as if unsure whether she was in the right place. She had been like this as of late, trying to grasp at her memories' first tingle of familiarity.

The prince’s lady wife had lost her memory when she fell off her horse during a riding accident. Her lord husband had been preoccupied with his duties on the King’s council, leaving her on her own most days. She took to the Kingswood with her Sworn Shield, relishing the feeling of the wind whipping at her face as they rode through the woods. Riding was something she had always loved to do as a girl, the memories of racing with her brothers through her homeland a sweet comfort to the foreign atmosphere in King’s Landing.

Perhaps she had gotten too excited, too greedy, when she urged her horse faster and faster until she disappeared from her knight’s midst. 

He had found her on the grass, horse nowhere to be found. It was unsure how the lady had fallen, but she had taken a great hit to her head from the impact. She looked like a forest nymph surrounded by bright flowers and green grass, hair falling around her like a halo, only if it weren’t for the streaks of blood that dripped down her temples.

When she had awakened, the princess was greeted by the sight of silver hair and a lone purple eye that watched her with worry. Her eyes shifted to the sapphire lodged into his other socket, curious as to how it got there. He was familiar to her, but she could not tell how she came to know him, her own husband. Aemond’s chest panged with hurt when his lady wife looked at him with a hazy confusion, her quaint voice muttering, “Who are you?”

Since that day, Aemond and his sweet wife had been on the path of trying to regain, or rather rebuild, her memories. 

“Hello,” She greeted him meekly. She was so shy to him now, much like she was before they were married. The princess had learned her husband loved her a great deal, and perhaps she shared a deep affection for him too, one that no amount of impact on her mind could erase. 

But how do you love a person you scarcely remember?

“Hello, my sweet,” He said to her softly. Aemond rose from his seat to approach her, giving her an embrace as he kissed her forehead. She timidly nuzzled into his arms, breathing in his scent. Teakwood and smoke, a scent that triggered a glimmer of familiarity in her otherwise foggy brain. She had made an effort to know her husband once more, making a mental list of what she liked about him.

'I like it when he holds me like this,' she thought, adding it to her list.

“Is everything alright?” He asked her, pulling away to look at her. Aemond ignored the slight twinge in his heart when she still regarded him with distance at times. He couldn’t find it within him to be cross with her, not when he blamed himself for her accident.

“I am alright, I tried to go for a walk in the gardens, but I… I’m afraid I cannot recall the way. A kind knight helped me back… one of the twins? Oh gods, I cannot remember his name either.” Her brows furrowed while she tried her hardest to remember the knight’s name. She bit her lip in concentration yet to no avail. 

“Ser Arryk?” Aemond hinted, to which she nodded in response.

“Right... Yes, Ser Arryk.” She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. The dragon’s wife would often be like this as of late, a name or a scent would bring about hints of her past life, but as soon as she was able to grasp the memories in her hand, they would slip through her fingertips once more, lost in the blurry sea of her mind. With all her effort at trying to regain at least a single piece of memory, she found herself with headaches at the end of the day. It frustrated her to a great deal. 

Aemond knew how hard she struggled, and how much her memory weighed on her. It pained him to see her like this, even more, when he could do so little to help her. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear before cupping her chin. 

“Fret not, you will remember,” He reassured her, tone soft and warm.

“We will figure this out, you and I,” The prince promised her, the way he always did, with a determination in his voice and his heart. The idea that she might be lost forever terrified him, but she was still here, in his arms, and Aemond would have her any way he could.

“Thank you husband, for taking care of me,” She took this hand in hers, kissing the back of it in gratitude. At first, she had been wary of showing her affection, not quite remembering how. When she had seen how much Aemond cared for her and showered her with so much love, it didn’t take long for her to realize why her past self loved him greatly.

“Do you have time to walk in the gardens with me? I have been wanting for some fresh air,” She suggested shyly. She spoke so softly ever since the accident. When once she had been bubbly and exuberant, her wit had been replaced by a soft, yet curious wonder equal to that of a timid doe. 

“Of course,” Aemond replied, letting her take his hand in hers. He kissed her cheek, soft and sweet, a gentleness to him that was only ever reserved for her. “We can go anywhere you want.”

His lady wife let him lead the way to the gardens. As they walked, she tried her best to remember the twists and turns that led her down the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast. She realized the wrong turn she had earlier, which led her to another wing of the Keep where Ser Arryk had found her. 

“How pretty it is,” Aemond said as they entered the gardens. They welcomed the fresh air that breezed through the open space. The princess hummed in response as she felt a spark of familiarity in her chest of being in the gardens. What she did or who she was with, she could not recall, but that was alright. To see such things and be touched by the affinity of knowing was a good step forward.

They strolled through the gardens, the bright variety of flowers making her feel delighted to be surrounded by such beauty. She ran her fingertips on the ones that interested her, often stopping to smell some. Her eyes trained on a shrub filled with small, delicate blue flowers. 

As she stopped, her husband stopped right along with her. When Aemond turned to look at what his wife held in her hands, the sight of a familiar flower took him by surprise. Her favorite ones.

“Those are beautiful,” he said, with an amused smile. The blue spray of flowers was the same one he had gifted her throughout their courtship, a symbol of true and enduring love. 

His wife looked back at him with a familiar glint in her eyes. “They truly are, aren’t they?” She said, feeling the velvety surface of its petals against her fingertips. She hadn’t quite realized its significance to her and Aemond’s relationship, but she knew that she liked them.

“Do you know what they are called?” Her lord husband asked curiously. His good eye studied her face as she pondered, a glimmer of hope rose in his chest. 

“Forget-me-not,” She answered.

Aemond hummed in response, grinning with delight. They continued to walk hand-in-hand through the gardens, his lady wife swinging their hands. In any other case, he would not have allowed this, the formal man he was, but he let her, seeing the pleasant mood she was in. Conversation flowed between them, comfortable and light. The princess could sense when her husband would mention topics that could trigger her memory, and she tried to indulge him as much as she could. 

Aside from the couple that roamed the gardens, some lords and ladies of the court had also taken advantage of the pleasant weather. The sun shone brightly after days of cloudy gloom casting its shadow upon King’s Landing. 

The princess felt the stares at her and her husband, more so at her. She had been subject to their gazes ever since the incident. Most would look at her with pity for her circumstances, some with wonder as to how her and Aemond’s marriage still held strong. She did not miss the malicious stares from the ladies her age, no doubt thinking that the prince would soon tire of having to nurse his fragile wife.

Poor Prince Aemond, how ever could he endure having such a blank and empty shell of a wife?

The princess’ free had clutched Aemond’s arm, ducking her head with insecurity as they passed a group of nobles.

“They all stare,” she said lowly. Aemond sighed, caressing the back of her hand on his elbow comfortingly. 

“They do,” he said softly. He gave a sharp stare to the people they passed, leading his wife away. It was difficult to discount the looks they gave her, reminding him of his own experience when he had lost his eye. It angered him that they’d be so unkind to his wife, after all she’d been through. “We cannot worry about what they think of us, my love,” he comforted her.

She merely hummed in response, somewhat unconvinced. They continued their walk with her head ducked low, her bright spirit from earlier now dissipated.

Aemond led her to a secluded area, where they sat on a stone bench overlooking Blackwater Bay. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to plant a kiss on her forehead. “You must not let them bother you, dear wife,” he said against her skin. His wife let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head against his. 

“Do you not think of me a burden?” She mumbled, fingertips toying with the ends of his starlit hair. The guilt she felt for having imposed such an inconvenience on her lord husband weighed on her heavily. He was a prince of the realm, and he had no time to play healer to his own wife.

“No, never,” He emphasized, looking down to meet her eye. A large, calloused hand cupped her jaw. His thumb caressed her cheek while she leaned into his touch. 

“The circumstances given to us may not be the most favourable, yes, but I almost lost you, my love. I would have fought the Stranger with my own sword to have you returned to my side,” Aemond professed. Tears pricked at the corner of his wife’s eyes, her lips quivered from his overwhelming love. A single tear trailed down her cheek but was wiped away in haste by the prince’s thumb.

“What anyone else thinks or feels about you is not our concern. You are my concern,” he asserted, staring at her with adoration. The princess sniffled, before nodding to her husband, a whisper of thanks falling from her lips. Her eyes met his amethyst one, committing the sight of him lovingly in her memory. 

Hesitantly, she reached a hand to cup his cheek, before leaning forward to plant a soft peck on his lips. She liked the feeling of his lips, she decided. Her lips planted another kiss on his once more, deep and passionate. They kissed until she was out of breath, having to place a hand on her chest, panting.

In the following days, the princess awakened to a vase filled with blue forget-me-nots on her bedside table. She spent her time by her husband’s side, and when he was away she would indulge in different pursuits that pleased her. Fragments of her past had started to return to her, while some would forever be lost. She did not mourn this loss, for she had found that the new ones she shared with Aemond were filled with the same fondness. Falling for her husband the second time around did not require great difficulty to achieve, not when he made it so easy for her to love him.

[elumish]

In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.

I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.

For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.

Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.

Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.

Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?

Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.

Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.

Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.

Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

[zhongrin]

a hybrid’s instincts

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, gorou, tighnari, (bonus) platonic!diona

◇ tags ◇ pregnancy, afab!reader, dragon!zhongli

◇ a/n ◇ what's that? will i ever stop pushing the dragon!zhongli agenda? hahahahahahahhahahhaha hhahaha ha ha- no.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

oh? what's this? it seems like your pregnancy triggered something in these men. their more… "animal side", perhaps?

ever since baizhu’s confirmation - actually, even weeks before that - zhongli has been very reluctant to let you wander out of the house. or even out of his sight, in general (which is quite strange since with his enhanced dragon senses you know he’s able to locate you within the house with no problems at all).

at night, you sometimes wake up to him in his dragon form. sometimes it’s his compact form nuzzling and he's purring near your stomach, sometimes it’s his half-dragon form where he’ll place his head beside your stomach with his tail curling around you protectively. it doesn’t matter whether you’re already showing or not; your heartbeat and the little hatchling’s brings him a sense of comfort that he needs, lest he becomes restless.

his nesting behavior is out of control. he’ll bring you all the pillows and blankets, surround you with the nicest smelling flowers, make you always wear his shirt, and he’ll bring anything you want to the bed so you don’t have to leave the nest. the further you are into your pregnancy, the more reluctant he is to leave you alone. he ends up taking that paternal leave hu tao has been telling him to get. bless her.

gorou is just as excited as he’s alerted. kokomi will have to force her best general to take a temporary leave from the army throughout your pregnancy because he’s so jumpy and sensitive to literally everything and his behavior is making all of the soldiers anxious.

gorou insists that you take a walk with him every day; just something light around the block to keep you from feeling lethargic. he’s also developed a habit to sniff everything that will touch your hand. yes, that includes your supposedly harmless change of clothes. it’s not ridiculous in his opinion! it’s a necessary precaution!!

will snarl when a stranger approaches you and tries to touch you in any way, even if it’s just a friendly gesture. he would be so embarrassed and apologetic about it afterward, but only once you’re at the safe haven of your house.

are you a forest ranger? an adventurer? does your profession require you to venture into the wilderness? welp, say goodbye to your job for the time being, because there is no way in any cycles of samsara tighnari would let you go into the dangers outside while you’re carrying his pups.

walking arm-in-arm whenever you're out and about is a must these days. whenever a villager congratulates you, you can sense his hold tightening despite the polite smile on his lips. if it was up to his instinct, he wouldn’t have let you get out of the house, but rationally he knows you need to move around and breathe in the fresh air.

though you still won’t be exempt from your beloved’s sassiness (”you want me to get you coffee…? do you think i’m an idiot?”) as long as what you ask for doesn’t harm you, he’s at your every beck and calls now, no question asked. you’re craving for collei’s specialized pita pockets? he’ll learn the damn recipe from collei herself and serve it on your favorite plate the next day. you want to be carried everywhere? good thing he’s got the physique fitting for the head of the forest rangers. you want ten kisses a day? say no more; he’ll give you thirty.

[bonus - platonic]

at first, diona seems super indifferent about it, only reacting with a ‘hmph… congrats, i guess’, but her actions speak louder than words. you know how cats tend to hover around pregnant women and even lay themselves near their bulging bellies? that's right.

no, you will not be having alcohol. no, your spouse will not be having alcohol. no, all the people within five hundred meters radius from you will not be having any single drop of alcohol. she won't allow those boozehounds to get close to you.

she’s so amazed at how your stomach keeps growing bigger every time you visit her. when you give her your permission, she’ll curiously poke and stare at your bump. her hand will gently pat your tummy as she unconsciously smiles. she starts to seek you out more often after that, telling you that she’s just there in case you need help, but you know she’s just worried about you. she would be such a good big sister to your baby!

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades

[thesirencult]

How Will Your FS See You ?

1--2

*****************************************

Pile 1

I'm seeing a vision. A girl is gathering flowers and playing in the sun between trees. At the same time, a man is looking at her like she is his whole world.

What this tells me is that there is a very clear distinction between you and your future spouse's energies. Your FS is definitely more masculine (no matter their gender) and you are more feminine.

This person sees you as a ray of light. You are dainty like a flower and sweet like honey. I'm hearing the word "yellow" 💛. Whenever they are looking at you, you are draped in golden light.

Now, what makes me sad is that you don't see yourself that way. Your person knows that you are picking yourself apart and they hate it.

You are a shiny little star to them. Some words they might call you are : my little star, pooh bear, sweetheart, honey, sweetie, cutie. They believe you are the sweetest, loveliest, most sincere person on planet earth. You believe that you do not deserve love or that you are not that important but they are seeing "You are important. You are as important as the air I breathe. You are necessary to my survival."

Like the sun is the centre of our universe, you are the centre of their universe. Your FS is very affectionate with you. I'm seeing someone kissing the fingers of someone else and breathing in their scent from their neck/hair. First and foremost they find you sweet and cute. Like, to them, intimacy doesn't mean mindless physical connection but love making. They love your hands and your nose.

They adore your expressions and they find certain quirks you have cute. As an example, when you feel tired and puff air out or if you tag on their hand and look up at them.

This person might be bigger than you and they just want to protect and serve you. I believe that they want to set boundaries between you and the world. They want to hold up a mirror for you and help you see your own light.

Whenever you are sad they want to make you smile.

I believe that you and your FS are going to be really close. This is not a normal bond. To others it might not seem healthy, they way that you are attached to eachother, but for you it's perfect...

Pile 2

Your FS sees you as their dream person, not in a childish way but in a mature way. You are what they need not what they wanted.

This person has had lots of experiences when it comes to love. When they meet you they will be going through a "winter" moment, life will have lost its spark. You might be born in March, cause you are going to wash away the snow and help them see the bright side of life again.

This will not be easy. Your FS will see you as their wish fulfillment, but at moments they will be wondering whether God or the d*vil sent you. You will be triggering their old wounds and stagnant energy.

This person will be very caring towards you. They will constantly remind you to take your vitamins and drink enough water. They will tease you about your height or nose just to get to your nerves.

I'm hearing "They are so draining!". Now, this is really funny cause I heard it in a teasing way, like you are at the next room and they are telling your mom you are a pain in the butt when in reality they love your quirks.

They will be constantly worrying about your well-being lol. They will get mad when you are not taking care of yourself and they will be trying to guilt trip you into doing things that are good for yourself.

Let's say you are really shy and don't want to go to the beach but they want to go and you have a dog that loves the water. They will be telling you "See, the dog is broken hearted. You are not a really good dog mom/dad."

This person will think you are sneaky. They will love the sparkle your eyes have as you have a very "active" inner child.

I believe you don't show that side to others that often and no one will believe what they have witnessed. You could have made a crazy food combination or they found you teaching the dog muay thai, to them you can NEVER be boring. It's like, what is she up to, AGAIN?

I also get that you might give them the "puppy eyes" when you get caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing (ex. cheating on your diet) or playing all coy and sweet and they love that!

[romaritimeharbor]

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

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