#where his body reflects his ideal self

[tpwk-formula1]

Lando, Sicilian Crust, Red Sauce, Pepperoni, Tomatoes, Mushrooms, Coke, Root beer, Lemonade, Sparkling Water.

But the scenario is the readers got thick thighs, and she’s a little chubby (coming from a chubby girl🥹), she’s constantly talking down on her self and insecure. And lando won’t have it, so he is desperate to make her feel better about herself. (Make sex in front of a mirror?) 

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" coke spanking root beer daddy kink lemonade body worship sparkling water spitting dessert yes served by Lando Norris

AN - Omg yay! I loved getting this request as I am also a fellow chubby girl! If anyone else has plus size requests please send them in as I am passionate about wanting there to be representation for everyone <3 Lee-Lee

TW - spanking, spitting into mouth, blow job, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, some degrading terms, body worship and appreciation

WC

Y/N POV

I groan again while staring into the mirror. I knew I wasn't the ideal wag and I will never understand why Lando had picked me. The reflection in the mirror showed me a girl with thighs that touched, wide-set hips, and a belly that most people made sure to point out in the comment section of any photos released of me.

I stare a few more seconds before I start pinching at my sides trying to see how soft they had grown over the past few months. I feel the tears well in my eyes when I realize nothing is changing. I had tried dieting but then after a few weeks and a couple pounds down I find myself giving up again.

I'm so lost in my own world of self-hatred I don't hear Lando come home and I sure as hell don't hear him come into the bathroom leaving again the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lando suddenly announces making me jump slightly and wrap my arms around my body to try and hide still embarrassed at being caught.

"Lando, I- I was just getting ready for the day," I lie softly not even believing myself. Lando raises a brow at me before approaching making me step back slightly. When Lando reaches me he softly removes my arms from my body just eying me up and down. I feel myself growing red in embarrassment not enjoying the feeling of his eyes on my bare body.

Wordlessly Lando takes my hips into his hands gently squeezing them before turning me towards the mirror so I can stare at myself. With Lando standing behind my I feel his arms wrapped around my hips while starting to trail his hands up and down in admiration.

"So beautiful," Lando mumbles softly placing a soft kiss on my should. I try my best to keep eye contact with Lando not wanting to see my body against his touch knowing my thighs would dwarf his wandering hands.

"I love you," Lando says softly starting to trail kisses around my shoulders and the back of my neck making my breathing pick up.

"So fucking beautiful," Lando says while pinching my hip softly before rubbing it in a soothing manner.

"Watch yourself in the mirror," Lando says roughly making my eyes instantly snap to where his hand is now wandering up my sides grazes his touch past my stomach roll before settling his hands near my face.

When his fingers graze my lips he mutters a soft beautiful before trailing his hands to my heavy tits giving them a stong squeeze making me gaso.

"These tits are gonna be the death of me one day, so fucking good," Lando says confidently giving one of my nipples a soft flick instantly making it harden.

"And this," Lando started while rubbing my stomach softly making me cringe away from his touch making him drop his hands to his sides and stare at me in the mirror.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lando says after a moment before bringing his hands back to my stomach this time trying to relax into his touch.

"This stomach you love to pinch and probe at, will one day carry our children. That thought alone makes me hard," Lando says softly making me gasp when he grinds his jean-covered crotch into my thick ass letting me know just the sight of me turned him on.

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," Lando adds softly moving his hands down to my thighs giving them a soft rub before landing a soft slap on them making me whine.

"And these fucking thighs! My favorite thing in the world. After a good race, I just wanna burry my face between them, after a bad race I can't wait to get back to the hotel to hide between them and let all my problems away, these are the best thing the Lord could have blessed me with," Lando says softly while rubbing them. He was back to laying soft kisses around my neck before I feel his teeth sink into the side of my neck before leaving a small hickey.

"Oh! And this fucking pussy," Lando says softly digging his fingers through my folds finding them to be coated in a light layer of my juices. Having Lando softly rubbing his hands around my body had definitely turned me on a bit.

"This pussy and the best pussy a man could have. Too bad I will never share it again," Lando says softly before lifting my thigh and resting my foot on the counter so he can burry his fingers into my pussy making me gasp and throw my head back onto Lando's shoulder when he hits my G-spot.

"Feels so good," I whine softly clenching around Lando's fingers before they're ripped out of my pussy leaving me gasping for a breath,

"No daddy," I whine not wanting him to stop.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want. Count them for me," Lando says roughly letting me know he was about to spank me.

The first slap rang out through the room startling me just a bit.

"one" i mumble softly.

"two" I groan a little louder after the second much harsher slap landed on my left ass cheek.

"I love the way your ass shakes when I slap it," Lando said before landing another rough slap on the exact same spot making me scream out softly.

"three," I finally gasp out still trying to catch my breath.

"four," I scream out with the fourth slap lands on the top of my right ass cheek.

"Last one," Lando says softly while rubbing his hand over the last spank he had landed.

"Five, oh my god," I scream while my knees buckle only staying up because of Lando's strong grip. The last one was always the hardest one but today it was so much harder than normal. It knocked the wind out of me in shock.

"Did so good for me. Took your punishment so well baby," Lando says softly turning me around to give me a soft kiss.

"Open," lando says roughly cleaning moving from punishment mode to 'I ned to fuck you right now' mode.

When I part my lips and open my mouth I wait as Lando gather s a bit of spit before spitting right down my throat some hitting my bottom lip making me moan before swallowing.

"Good girl," Lando says before flipping me back to look at myself in the mirror again. Lando was still fully dressed which changed rather quickly cause he started stripping down not having any time to waste.

When I feel Lando poking at my folds I moan softly while pushing my hips back trying to get some kind of stimulation which finally came when Lando roughly sunk down fully into me.

"Oh god," I moan out when his hips hit my sore ass making the the slight burning sensation instantly turn from pain to pleasure.

“It’s too much, daddy,” I moan when Lando speeds up his thrusting making me grip onto the counter harder to make sure I don’t fall.

“Watch the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are,” Lando grunts while reaching between our bodies to find my swollen clit to give it a few pinches before rubbing it in circles.

“God, you have the wettest fucking pussy, baby girl,” Lando groans collectiving some on his fingers before bringing his wet fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off while moaning at the flavor.

“You’re fucking delicious baby,” Lando whispers while bringing his fingers back to my clit making me instantly tense around Lando’s cock in anticipation of an orgasm.

“Can I cum,” I moan feeling my orgasm approaching making Lando speed up his actions, and throwing me off the edge and into a knee buckling orgasm as soon as he have me the go ahead.

“Fuck daddy,” I scream out as I feel the peak of my orgasm hit, making the world around me go dark slightly letting my body feel all of the pleasure coursing through my body. Lando helps me ride out the longest orgasm I’ve ever had before softly slipping out of my pussy making me whine from overstimulation.

“On you knees,” Lando grunts making me turn around and drop to my knees and instantly reach for his cock but he pulls away while shaking his head.

“I need you to listen to me real quick,” Lando says making me nod and trail my eyes from his soaked cock up to his eyes to show he has my full attention.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You have been my best friend our entire relationship and I have loved every aspect of who you are. So I’ll be damned if you hate even the smallest speck on yourself when all I can ever fucking see is perfection,” Lando tells me softly making me smile back at him.

“It’s just hard sometimes. I see the girls who would do anything for even a second of your times. I see the other wags and can’t help but compare. And i see the comments, i know you see them too and while even if I was skinny they would still find a reason to be dicks it’s just hard sometimes,” I tell him softly making him scoff each time I compared myself to someone else but watched as his eyes softened at the mention of the comments.

“All Im saying is I better not come back home to find you pinching your sides or damn near in tears at the sight you see in the mirror,” Lando says back making me nod my head.

“Daddy can I please finish you off now,” I whine getting impatient with staring at his hard cock. Lando just chuckles before stepping closer and leaning down slightly to spit in my mouth again. I savor the flavor this time before swallowing his spit.

When I open my mouth again Lando instantly shoves his cock down my throat making me gag slightly.

“Prettiest fucking slut Ive ever laid eyes on.” Lando groans still on his complimenting run but too lost in the pleasure to not throw in some teasing nicknames.

I feel Lando’s pace start to falter which makes me bob my head faster wanting to keep the same momentum as he starts cumming down my throat.

I do my best to swallow every drop he gives me before he’s slowly pulling out if my mouth. I feel a bit of cum leak down the side of my lips and before I can wipe it away Lando is crashing his lips onto mine now caring about the cum.

“I love you so much! Be nice to yourself,” Lando tells me softly making me nod my head in agreement.

When Lando helps me from the cold ground he draws us a bath. When we both sink into the hot water I can see the stress of the day melt away for Labdo while I i feel all my tense muscles slowly start to relax.

“What triggered it?” Lando asked softly.

“I was getting ready to take a shower and kinda got lost,” i replied back softly making Lando wrap his arms around me a little tighter.

“M’sorry I wasn’t here early to prevent it,” he tells me while leaning down to place a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Wasnt your fault,” I reply back shrugging a little. We both know I would do it again but I also knew it didn’t matter to Lando cause I was always gonna be his girl.

[velvette-creations]

To be alive at all is to have scars

House of the Dragon: Rhaenyra + fem!reader (platonic) 

Rating: Teen 

WC: 1.3 k 

Prompt: Cathartic Venting for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Heavy on the angst, mention of death, reader is a Strong, but no physical description is giving, hurt/comfort

Summary: You help your Queen process her emotions after Lucerys’s death

The afternoon's blistering heat had faded into the balmy night, with the moon shining bright behind the swirling mists of fog. You dipped the sponge into the warm water before lifting Rhaenyra’s arm and gently scrubbing her skin. Moments earlier, she reeked of dragon, the pungent scent of smoldering embers, and scorched meat undercut with a faint hint of sulfur. As she marinated in the piping hot water bubbling with jasmine oil, the putrid smell began to disappear slowly. You took care to clean under her nails, scrubbing away the dirt and grime until they sparkled like shimmering glass. While the water could wash away the muck, it did nothing to soothe her melancholy. Nothing could replace the children she had lost.

For over a sennight, she took to the skies, hoping to find remnants of Luke’s remains. Many worried in her absence, with Prince Daemon itching for vengeance. You did not fault him; it was his nature to take charge and make their enemies pay. You worried for your Queen as she journeyed with only her dragon for company. However, Syrax was a formidable companion.

Apart from Elinda, you were the closest handmaid to the Targaryen Queen. Your long-deceased father, Lyonel Strong, had requested you be placed in her service when you were both on the cusp of womanhood. You long held the secret of her trysts with your older brother, Harwin, for you understood Laenor had extended his blessing in the regard. While it was not an ideal situation, you were pleasantly surprised how the three made such an odd relationship work despite the consequences it bore. Rhaenyra loved those three boys with all of her heart. You supposed part of her heart was ripped away when she heard of Luke’s death.

“May I attend to your hair now, Your Grace?” you asked, raising to your feet.

“Please,” she murmured; her once amethyst eyes that sparkled with life were now dulled. Illustrious gems that had lost their luster, a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively woman she used to be. A broken princess turned into a broken queen. Mayhaps the Targaryens paid a heavy price to sit upon the Iron Throne.

You knelt behind her head, fingers carefully undoing her intricate braid and loosening the strands of matted hair. Then, lifting the ivory brush, you began to untangle her mane, taking care with each stroke of the bristles. Your fingers expertly worked the oil through her hair before lifting a jug filled to the brim with water. She tilted her head back, allowing you to rinse her hair clean. As you continued your work, a glimmer of her former self emerged. But you knew, deep down, that while she may look like herself again, the scars of her loss would never truly fade. Ripped edges that would always remain jagged.

You heard the whisperings of her discovering Arrax’s severed wing and clothing worn by the young Prince Lucerys on his cursed journey to Storm’s End. It was a genuinely wretched thing to have no body to burn. The Gods were cruel, you thought. Rhaenyra continued to simmer in the water until it turned as cold as the weather in the North. You took great care in helping her from the stone tub and drying off her damp skin before draping a crimson robe around her.

Her shoulders slumped as she stared at her reflection in the looking glass. Defeat hung heavy on her sullen face. Gaunt eyes begging for relief, a respite from the tragedy that marred her life. Your heart ached for her, so you gently rested your hand on her shoulder to provide her a modicum of comfort. An ounce of kindness would go a long way. Mayhaps, more should be extended to her and to Aegon; that is where peace might be found. Her hands snaked around yours, holding tightly as if afraid to slip away.

“Do you find me to be a terrible person?” she whispered, her voice cracking and quivering.

Your eyes widened.  “Of course not, Your Grace!”

“Please, speak truthfully and address me as Rhaenyra,” she requested. Her eyes pleaded with yours. She needed a friend.

You let go of her before kneeling in front of her and drawing both her hands into your own. Your thumb stroked gently over the scar left by Alicent Hightower years ago. Undoubtedly, the scars on Rhaenyra’s heart outnumber the ones on her body. “I have never once thought such, Rhaenyra.”

Her lower lip quivered as her strong facade cracked and crumbled to dust. “I had only wished to fulfill my inheritance and serve the realm. I never wished for this. I should have never sent Luke alone.” Tears dribbled down her flushed cheeks. Plump, watery, opaque pearls splattered onto the stone beneath her chair.

“You could not know this would happen.”

She squeezed your hands as the tears poured freely down her face. “I do not want this burden if this is the cost.” Her voice was heavy and thick as she admitted her truth. A truth she dared not speak aloud, but it felt healing to let them fall from her lips. “I would trade my crown for the lives of my children.” A soft wail spilled from her the moment she admitted those sentiments.

Motherhood had petrified her; it had driven her mother into an early, bloody grave, and yet the moment she held Jacerys in her arms, you had watched her slowly embrace it. Jace healed a deep wound inside her, and no soul in the realm could doubt her love for all her children. She would throw herself in the cruel barbs and sharp words hurled in thoughts of their heritage, letting each one slice her deep to protect them from hearing such squander. However, she would not be able to protect them forever but would do everything in her power to continue.

Her hand slipped to her belly as thick, hot tears continued to pour down her ruddy cheeks. A son and a daughter torn from her womb, now left to the mercy of the Gods. Her gasps for air made your belly twist uncomfortably, but you said naught, simply allowed her to weep freely and without judgment. She was only human, after all. Even Targaryens, with their dragons and otherworldly appearances, were still flesh and blood. You lifted her hands, pressing soft kisses to her fingers, free from the rings she usually wore. Admitting such beliefs out loud took courage and strength, and you felt grateful that she trusted you with such feelings.

“I believe you will make a fine queen, Rhaenyra. The realm is long overdue for one. I hold hope that a peaceful resolve might be reached, as foolish as that may sound.”

A small smile turned across her lips. “I do not think you sound foolish.”

“Then I am not foolish, and you are not a terrible person. You were named King Viserys’s heir; fealty was sworn to you,” you reminded her. Her shoulders straightened as the tears began to dry on her face.

“Thank you for allowing me to unburden. You have been by my side for many years. There are times I look upon you, and I see Harwin, I see my boys. You are my family.”

Your heart fluttered.

“I feel the same, Rhaenyra. When the Stranger claimed my father and brother, I made a promise that I would do what I could to protect you and the boys. I would do the same for little Aegon and Viserys. We may not share a drop of blood, yet I feel as if we are bonded in such a way,” you whispered.

Her hand gently cupped your face, thumb stroking across your cheek. “Allow me to hug you, my dearest.”

You melted in her arms, holding her as tightly as she embraced you. Even the strongest of persons were not immune to the tragedies of life. But what does not break one simply makes one stronger. She would rise like a dragon from the embers, ready to burst into fire and claim her birthright. More scars would be wrought, and more tears would be shed. Yet she would be the finest queen Westeros had ever seen.

[bigtedbear]

" 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

content warnings: gay relationship, descriptions of grevious bodily injury, implied self-mutilation/self-harm, male reader, monster x human relationship, hurt/comfort writing, hey this starts out really dark please take care of your mental health, arguments, misunderstood feelings, mermaid courtship, alternate universe where luocha is a traveling doctor who's studying biology and anatomy across the universe blah blah blah, luocha is pretty genuine in this even though i know he is in fact a snake let me idealize for a moment okay, luocha puts a ring on it without realizing he is literally putting a ring on it

full admittance you'll probably find parallels with @/havanilla's merventurine au at the start of this cause it was one of the last things I read on my old tumblr account before it died on me and i fear i DO have brainrot

to add to my earlier warning about this chapter beginning out dark, there will be a marker for the cuter, mermaid courtship section of the fic!! look for a marker like the one below VV

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller luocha has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

A pained scream ripped through the air.  

It was a shame it couldn’t be distinguished from the sound of other yells and shouting from all over the deck.  In fact, it seemed the anguish was completely drowned out by the noise of an older man beginning to bark orders from the side of the fishing boat.  Gravelly with age and experience, sets and more sets of hands seemed to jump to action, rushing over to that specific side of the deck.  

In the crew’s haste, they didn’t seem to notice they had also woken up the residential cabin.  Things were more than hectic; the experienced crew themselves were in a frenzy.  There was something that demanded urgent attention and it seemed none of the regular passengers were privy to what exactly it was. 

Still, in the curious sea of civilian passengers renting their rooms in the bowels of the ship, a tall blonde head of hair peered over the crowd straight to the source of the fuss.  Over the sea of yellow rain jackets adorning the working fishermen, he caught sight of some kind of reflective surface… what many wrote off as an oversized fish, Luocha continued to strain his eyes at.

Should he have been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed.  But Luocha was a doctor, he was more than familiar with noises of distress; with the scent of blood.  Something in the very core of his body shook with each of the pained and weak motions of an equally pained, weak patient.  The vibrations crept up his spine from the wooden boards of the ship, whispering into his ears. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was terribly wrong. 

Despite the protests of one of the tour guides, urging him to go back to sleep, he rushed towards the scene.  The same pained screams; the sounds of the body on the deck; the reflection of the “oversized fish”, they became clearer and clearer the closer he closed in.

Before he could make it into the crowd of men at work, he was caught by one of their coworkers.  Clad in a yellow raincoat, shadow cast across his face in the rain, the obviously displeased grimace all over his face only further sent Luocha into a state of panic.  A tense grip on his elbow, the man spoke in a language he didn’t understand.  Even if he didn’t understand the words themselves, Luocha was more than smart enough to understand the message the worker was trying to convey.  Before he could be pulled away, he made one last attempt to see what exactly was going on. 

When he did manage to catch a glimpse, he froze. 

Perfect, round tears running down flushed, red cheeks. 

The skin was pulled taut in another scream.  Based on the shaking motion of the face, he could only really come to the conclusion the body was being jerked in every direction possible. 

“Stop… STOP!”  He yanked his elbow out of the man’s grasp, crashing directly into the back of another worker.  In his haste, he shoved the man out of the way only to find his path blocked by even more yellow raincoats.  “You’re only going to worsen the injuries! I’m a doctor!” 

Despite not considering himself to be very physically fit, something about the situation discarded that reality entirely.  An unknown strength washed over him as he forced his way through the clusterfuck of workers trying to wrestle the screamer into place. 

He didn’t understand, Luocha didn’t understand. 

There was an injured crew member on the deck, screaming–what kind of idiot would continue to pull and stress the skin around the wound? Was that why the team leader seemed to screaming with such vigor?  Was he equally concerned about one of his staff suddenly being sent into debilitating agony? 

But no, not even in the slightest.  

Through the crowd, a wet mop of hair thrashing against the backdrop of a barbed fishing net came into view.  The urgency only further sent Luocha wrestling through the crowd of men, all but screaming himself as he watched the injured man on the ground contort his facial muscles in abject horror.  

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!” 

 He could hear his own vocal chords start to tear as he shrieked for the poor victim.  With each passing moment, fear and anxiety seized the doctor in his entirety before he finally managed to part the crowd like the red sea. 

In the end,

he wasn’t faced with a crew member. 

...

A merman. 

Something he’d only heard of in the planet’s folklore. 

It seemed well-known the small surviving population hardly ever ventured out of protected waters for fear of predators. 

What was this one doing so far out…?

With the opportunity making itself known, the unknown merman continued to thrash but harder, lips curling upwards as another shrill cry of agony streaked the night air.  From up close, the doctor could only watch the formerly smooth, unmarred skin become tainted with red.  Washed with your own blood, you looked more similar to some kind of horror movie monster than a person. 

But even in the face of monstrosity, his inner doctor only saw the blown out pupils, the senseless aggression, the fear written all over his patient’s face in their own claret stain.

“You’ll end up killing him, stop, STOP!” 

He completely ignored his own pain as the barbs in the net ripped into the fabric of his pajamas, cutting open his knees when he threw his body on top of yours.  His hands flew around carelessly in an attempt to unlatch the hands that seemed determined to pull at you from every direction.  

At the loss of the hands all over your body, your screams died down into pitiful hyperventilation, curling in on yourself in an attempt to cover the wounds weeping crimson all over the formerly white net.  

Instead of relief, instead of some kind of graditude, it seemed he was only met with friction.

“Oy, blondie, paws off, do you understand how much money you’ve got your hands on right now?” 

The thick accent confused him at first, then the words themselves didn’t seem to compute. 

“Excuse me?” 

You yelped again when one of the men pulled at the net.   The cold metal tore sore flesh in chunks.

“Mermaid scales are priceless.  So are the pearls they cry, we caught the bastard fair and square so. Step. Off.” 

His mind scrambled to understand the sentence, thoughts muddling together in a blender of pain and panic.  “I- I-” 

“You?”  Another crew member chimed in, crossing his arms, “You’ll what, doctor?  You can either get off of him and wrap up your cuts yourself or we’ll drag you off and the barbs can teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.” 

“I-”  his breathing picked up drastically, suddenly confronted with such a terrible moral dilemma. 

When prying hands began to make grabby motions for the edges of the ropes, he choked out his final answer.

“I'll pay for him!"

“...”

“...”

“...”

He swept his rain-soaked bangs out of his face, his voice shaking, “You were planning on selling him, right?”  He fumbled with his sleeves, “I make good money, I swear, I-,” he swallowed, “I can afford it.  Just take as much as you want out of the account I used to pay for my cabin.”

“...” 

“...”

Things were a little bit awkward, to say the least. 

Despite an attempt being made to cooperate while you were awake, it seemed the pressure and the mounting stress of nearly dying made it unable for you to accept the fact that Luocha was not, in fact, going to hurt you. 

The attempt to deal with the various injuries littered all over formerly smooth, silky skin was unproductive at best.  In fact, it only created more problems.  Trying to operate while you were largely unreceptive to anything he was saying was by far the worst decision he could’ve made given the circumstances. 

Point blank, he needed to get the barbed hooks out of your skin.  If he didn’t, the wounds would be at increased risk of infection.  After all, based on the cruel treatment he’d seen on deck, he knew the metal was most likely unsanitized.  Doing this while you were awake was easily the worst decision he could've made.

Promising not to hurt you while continually yanking pieces of metal out of your tender flesh was not a good way to build trust. 

"..."

"..."

You poked at the “strange” bowl that’d been set in front of you.  It was some kind of clam-fish hybrid soup. I mean, Luocha was trying to be considerate of your regular diet.  Surely, since you were living out in open waters, you were pretty used to eating fish right?

He, however, failed to realize you weren’t exactly in a spot to ever enjoy the luxuries of cooked food… or soup.  He’d laid out some utensils for you to use on top of that; it was a shame you didn’t know how to use them. 

"..."

"..."

You realized pretty early on that he’d saved you from becoming a victim to death by blood loss.  After all, when you were dropped in a holding tank until the ship arrived at the port, the water went cloudy from the dirt, debris, and blood all over your body.  In your little waist-high tank, he’d done his best to make sure you’d actually survive through the night.

Despite your reservations about him, you did your best not to scream while you were confined to a glorified holding cell.  Nails digging into the glass, biting down hard enough on the towel to tear, you tried your best to stay still while he fished countless little hooks from your back, arms, and chest.  

Removing the large hook in your shoulder was the most painful part of the process for the both of you.  You, for obvious reasons.  The hook made a clean cut through the muscle--scraping up against the bone--by the time you were awake enough to realize you were wrapped up in a barbed net.  Luocha, on the other hand, was the one that had to deal with the struggle while trying to complete a very tricky operation.  

Eventually, the problem dealt with itself when you passed out.  Really, he should’ve sedated you to start with, and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it sooner.  After you went out, he did his best to stitch everything up–hell, he wrapped you up in enough bandages to look like a mummy. 

But, since the two of you actually arrived on the island, there wasn’t so much as a word shared from either party. 

You woke up in a little bathtub, in a little bathroom, feeling like your arms were falling off and you couldn’t breathe because of how tight all of the bandages were wrapped around you. Eventually the giant bandages changed to smaller ones attached with some medical tape.  The only bulky one left was the one wrapped around your shoulder. 

"..."

"..."

With some trepidation, you grabbed at one of the fishtails sticking out of the mystery liquid, digging a finger in between the meat and the ribs to peel it off the bone.  Carefully, you used one of your freshly trimmed nails to remove the thick, scaly skin, then biting off a chunk to chew and swallow.  

The longer you stared at the bowl, the more confused you became. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a fish. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a mussel. 

No, you didn’t know what to do with whatever else was in the bowl.  

You paused eating when the man sitting across from the bathtub cleared his throat.  He made a vague gesture towards your lap, “Would you…?”

‘...mind if I showed you how to eat a bowl of soup?’ 

Without much hesitation, you offered up your meal again, much more interested in the chunk of fish in your hand.  Biting off another piece, you drank in the pleasant familiarity in just having some tilapia for once.  

He picked up the spoon. Deciding not to embarrass you further, he decided to taste test the food himself instead of trying to feed you. He let the silver spoon clatter back into the bowl, passing it over to you again. Despite the clear demonstration he’d given you, you opted to pick at one of the mussels hiding underneath the broth. 

“...”

“...”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly averting eye contact as he stared at the tiled walls. 

You diverted your attention from your bowl back to the blonde doctor. 

“I don’t mean to be rude or pry in any way,” he swallowed, “but what exactly were you doing so far from protected waters?"

You didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his question, grabbing at the other fish tail in the bowl, “Smuggling and poaching.”  

He tilted his head curiously.

“Protective waters have attendants to track general pod health, they have the authority to temporarily remove merfolk from the water to do routine health checks."  You finally wrapped your hand around the spoon awkwardly, bringing some broth up to your lips. "Smugglers get jobs as attendants cause only tagged mermaids are considered protected.” You wiggled one of your finned ears, your left ear. Notably, there was a small tear in one of the fins. “It only takes a couple minutes for an attendant to catch a mermaid, sedate them, get them into a vehicle, remove their tag and throw them out into the right spots for a couple grand.” 

“I see.” 

You hummed, finally bringing the soup up to your lips, “Speaking of, how much did you end up having to pay for me?”

"..."

"..."

“Excuse me?” Luocha’s hands rested in his lap. 

“How much did you end up paying for me?”  You picked up another mussel, “I’m pretty good about keeping up with the price of scales and pearls.  I know you bought me as some kind of pity project, but I'm pretty eager to go back out to open waters.  Just name your price and I can start trying to pay off the debt.” 

The doctor blinked a couple times. “Oh… oh my god, absolutely not!”  He shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of his chest defensively, “There is no need to pay me back in the slightest.  Please, just rest well and remain healthy.  That would be the best payment.”

“What’s this?” 

He rolled the small iridescent pearl between his gloved fingers. 

“It’s a pearl.” 

He cracked a smile at that. It was gone as quick as it arrived as he brought the little treasure to his face to take a closer look.  “Well yes, but where did you get this? Did you have it stashed on you somewhere?”

You twirled your finger in a circle on the surface of the water. “No,” absentmindedly you observed the little whirlpool it made, “I made it.” 

He blinked a couple of times, hand dropping back to his side. “Pardon?” 

You finally looked up from the surface of the water, “I made it.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “You… made a pearl?” 

You looked at him, bored, “Well, yeah, did you not know mermaids make pearls?”

He looked from you, to the pearl, and then back at you.  “No… I’m afraid I didn’t know.”  His palm closed into a fist around the pearl, “How?” 

“...hm?”

He gestured towards his closed hand, “How did you make it?” 

You gave a huff, “Well, you’ve seen me make them before.”  

He frowned, “I… have?”

‘-and I didn’t notice?’

You nodded, shifting around in the bathtub to try and stretch your long tail out a little bit.  "The night I got caught on the boat-" Your jaw tensed, a sudden pang of soreness shooting up from your extremities. "-they were all over the deck, there were a bunch in the little tank they had me in.” 

His frown only deepened as he did his best to recall, “I don’t think I remember seeing them…? Does your blood crystalize into them or something of the sort?” 

You rested your head on the porcelain of the tub, bringing your arms up to cushion your cranium.  “Tears,” you murmured, “Merfolk tears turn into pearls.” 

‘Ah… so that’s why you mentioned there being so many on the ship.’

But then it hit him. 

“Why were you crying?” 

You shrugged, “Most mermaids in protected waters can cry on command.  We get a lot of tourists that give us gifts, sometimes if we’re interested we’ll give them a pearl in return.” 

He nodded like he understood, but suddenly the beautiful gem felt heavy in his fist.  He opened his hand and offered it back, “As beautiful as it is, I don’t wish to see you shedding any tears while you’re under my care.” 

You pushed his outstretched hand away, “Well, I already made it.  There’s no use trying to return it.” 

“Still, I feel terrible receiving a gift with such painful origins,” he sat down on the stool that’d become his usual spot.  “I’m a doctor. My goal is to make sure you’re in the least amount of pain possible.” 

“You should feel honored, you’re really the first person I’ve ever given a pearl to,” you raised your head from its spot on your arms, “I usually only gave them to little kids that didn’t bring me gifts so I’d give them something.”  You sank further into the water in the shallow tub.

“My concern is why you believe you should be giving me gifts in the first place,” he crossed his left leg over his right, scooting in closer, “I’ve already told you that taking care of you has always been of my own volition.  It is quite literally my job.  If you’re giving this to me as a gift and not repayment, I might be more inclined to accept it.” 

You huffed,  “Well, I guess you caught me.” 

His brows furrowed, “So I was right, you’re trying to pay back a debt again.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

This time, he sighed.  “I’ve already told you, your health and wellbeing are both priceless.  I would never ask a patient I forced into care to pay me any sum of money-”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” The water rippled when you sat up suddenly, “Why don’t you want to accept any kind of payment? I’m tired of talking to you as property and owner.  You bought ownership, legally I’m your property. I don’t want to be your property.” 

“You aren’t my property-” He quipped, expression growing displeased.

“But I am,” you cut him off.  “You signed paperwork, you exchanged a certain sum of money.  Even if you thought I couldn’t hear you doesn’t mean I didn’t.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I still heard the captain of the ship talking about sale prices with you.  I know I was considered a higher quality product, I know I was expensive.”

The doctor opened his mouth; and closed it and opened it again.  He struggled to find the correct words to use. “I didn’t consider that an exchange for ownership of you, I considered that to be the price of your wellbeing.  I’ve never considered you to be anything but an equal to me.” 

You drew your lips into a tight line, “Well, if I was an equal, you’d let me contribute to the cost somehow.  You wouldn’t treat me like some helpless baby.”  You gestured to his closed palm, “The pearl in your hand is priceless, sealing a handful of them would recuperate the money you wasted-”

Luocha held up his hand, “Stop-”

But you insisted, “Hell, if I ripped a couple of scales out you could more than pay for me.  You’d have enough money to buy another sorry sack of shit to take care of-”

“Don’t EVER-” he cut you off aggressively, “EVER, suggest such ludacris things to me again.  I refuse to even think about it.” 

“..."

Luocha shook his head, getting his gloves wet when he reached into the water to hold your hands in his own, “I would never ask you to do something like that to yourself.  I would never ask you to hurt yourself to please me and I would never ask you to hurt yourself because you needed my help.”  He gave your palms a gentle squeeze, “You did not ask to be put in the position you’re in now,  I am the one that chose to do this and I will be the one to set the price on my help; that price-” he paused, making sure you were looking him in the eyes, “-will always be no price at all.”   He pushed the pearl back into your hands.  “Give this pearl to one of the children that visit the waters after you’ve healed up in my stead, yes?” 

“It’s not exactly how I remember it.” 

You squirmed against the sensation of the water, arms still looped around Luocha’s neck.  

“Any discomfort?” The doctor asked, “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” You shuffled around to try and make yourself comfortable.  You did your best to find the familiar rhythm of the waves, but your tail felt as useless as it had the entire time you’d been confined to the bathtub.  “It’s… cold.” 

Luocha nodded... even though he couldn't quite understand.  “If you aren’t straining any of your injuries, you can hang on for as long as you need to.”

You mumbled, trying to draw your elbows closer to your chest, “I’m not.” 

“...”

“...”

It’d only been a week since the last time you’d tried to repay your imaginary debt to Luocha.  Things got… less tense between the two of you. 

You didn’t put up a fuss when he put some ointment on the scars that formed all over your skin.  You didn’t squirm when he unwrapped your shoulder bandage.  You’d usually bide your time silently in the bathtub.  Mostly, you’d nap.  But that got old quickly, especially since a bathtub isn’t the most convenient spot for sleeping. 

Luocha could tell you were bored out of your mind all on your lonesome. To satiate this, he’d usually sit with you in the bathroom and try to teach you things like how to play cards.  You were a little apprehensive with him, like you always were, but it seemed you opened up to him a lot more towards the end of your stay in his temporary residence.

You’d become a pretty competent blackjack player all things considered.

You opened up more and more about your life down below.  Usually, you’d be afraid to tell anyone about that information.  Smugglers often targeted specific pods if one of the products happened to be particularly pricy.  But Luocha wasn't at any risk, was he? 

“...”

“...”

Eventually, as the water started to feel more natural on your skin, you let your grip loosen from around his neck.  As the welcoming embrace of the ocean seemed to envelop more and more of your body, you could feel the former tension in your muscles start to melt away. 

You laid yourself horizontal to the surface of the water, tentatively starting to create your own ripples in the vast expanses of blue.  Maybe it didn’t feel exactly as you remembered, but the gentle pressure of the cool, cool sea against your skin felt like home. 

Your arms splayed out in the waves like an angel, basking in the familiarity of it all.  “You can let go now.” 

Slowly, surely, pale arms lowered you into the arms of the same waters you’d been in a little over two months ago.  You shocked yourself when you chased after his hands. Still, as slick as an eel, you slid away from him into the open ocean, finding a boyish glee in the pure ecstasy of true freedom.  

You took off like a little jet, head first into the deep end. 

Luocha could only really watch with a small smile while you explored the vast array of little treasures hidden beneath the horizon line.  

It felt like only fifteen minutes had passed when you re-emerged from beneath the ocean blue, but to your shock, the sun was starting to set and Luocha was off on dry land, wringing the water out of his hair.  

In all of your fun, it seemed you’d forgotten about that man who’d made all of this possible for you. 

“...”

You pursued him onto the sand, watching him characteristically tilt his head to the side to express his curiosity.  You pushed your own wet mop of hair out of your face with your hand, suddenly feeling a little less confident in your choices.  Despite your trepidation, you felt you at least owed him this much. 

That didn't make it any easier.

“I-” you swallowed, curling in on yourself, “What if I wanted to give you a gift? If it wasn’t some kind of repayment?” 

He smiled, flipping a soaked lock of hair over his shoulder, “As long as you aren’t lying to me about repayment, then I would gladly accept.”

You suddenly felt a new wave of confidence wash over you, your chest puffing up a little bit, “Well, I have a gift for you.” Even though you failed to notice your little finned ears wiggling in excitement, Luocha did not. 

You reached up to your right ear, unhooking the beautiful golden earring that’d you'd been wearing since you’d been thrown out of protective waters.

His eyes widened.   

“It-” You offered the hoop to him, “It was my mom’s.”

Luocha blinked a couple times, staring at the bangle before looking back up at your face instead.  

“Well?  You said you’d accept it if it was a gift.”  You pushed it into his face, feeling a red hot flush wash over your features, “This is a gift; from me to you, no strings attached.” 

He carefully took the thin gold loop in his fingers.  He noticed the signs of oxidation and the water damage. 

It was already far less valuable than the pearl you’d tried to offer him.

Yet its sentimental value was unrivaled. 

“...”

“...”

“Did... your mother like jewelry?”

You shrugged, looking away from him, “Yeah, she had a lot of it from my dad.” 

Luocha nodded.  “Well, did she have a favorite kind of jewelry?” 

At this, you paused.  “I mean… I guess she did.  She wore a lot of rings… why?” 

“Well, since this is a gift I won’t refuse it,- Luocha slid one of the golden bands wrapped around his fingers off,  “-but if you can’t have her earring anymore, then you can at least have a piece of jewelry your mother would’ve liked to wear.”

You felt your face transition from an embarrassed pink to a much deeper red.  “You… you know what you’re offering me, r-right?” 

He didn’t respond in the way you expected.  Instead of his usual confusion, he pushed the ring towards you again with one hand.  The other went to work, looping the clasp of the earring through a piercing that was just a little bit too close to closing.  

It felt like your brain was melting.

‘Is he… flirting with me?’ 

You took the golden ring between your fingers, watching him use his newly freed hand to further force the earring through the piercing hole. You could only feel the heat creep up your neck to your ears; fuck, it felt like you were going to burn alive on the sand. 

When he finally got it in, he flipped a chunk of wet hair over his shoulder.  He framed the golden hoop with his palm.  Playfully, he asked, “How does it look?” 

‘...’

‘He’s definitely flirting.’ 

You immediately ripped your gaze from his face to the ring that suddenly felt like a hundred pounds in your palm. 

‘...What fingers do humans usually put the ring on again?’

Shakily you slid the golden ring onto your left hand, examining the way it glinted in the light of the sunset.  

‘...holy shit, did I just get married?’ 

“[name]?” 

You blinked a couple times, suddenly ripping your gaze away from the shiny metal.  “Sorry, sorry.” 

He chuckled at your expense, enjoying the little fluttering of your ears everytime he seemed to catch your attention again.  “Thank you for the gift, I’ll cherish it dearly.” 

You nodded. 

“...”

“...”

The silence was interrupted with a quiet sniffle. 

“...[name]?”

You aggressively wiped the tear off your face, watching the consequent pearl roll across the grains of sand.  “H-Hey, you can’t just give me this ring and leave-” You took a deep breath, “-That’s not fair, that’s not fair at all.” 

He was a little taken aback at the sudden resurgence of emotion, “Would…” he paused.  He thought it over before tentatively putting a hand on your shoulder, “Would it help if I stayed a little longer?” 

You shook your head, putting your hand over the one on your shoulder to hold it between both of your own hands.  “You have to promise to visit me a lot.  It’s going to take me a long time to find my family, so if you don’t visit I’m going to be lonely.” 

He, once again caught off guard, nodded, “O-Of course!” His own cheeks tinted a pale pink. 

“You promise?” 

He nodded again, this time using his other hand to clasp your hand in both of his.  “I promise I’ll visit.”

a side note for this upcoming section: i did a lot of world-building for this fic behind the scenes, the current planet they're on is largely submerged beneath the waters and they live on a bunch of island nations. To link up with that idea, my idea of the mermaid smuggling industry is to do with the concept of foreigners coming in and destroying local ecosystems. (Colonization)

Long story short, the planet is loosely based on Polynesian Islands so I chose Māori names for our supporting cast but keep in mind I am FAR from an expert and I mean literally no disrespect at all to anyone at all. Only the names are Māori in nature because I feel like no matter how much research I do, I would be unable to capture the essence of the rich culture of New Zealand. I'm a little gay fanfic writer I have not done nearly enough research to claim I know ANYTHING, I just thought it'd be cool and help with world-building in case people want a part-two or something

“What’s got you so worked up?” 

“Shut the fuck up Iarere, this is like the seventh time in the same hour.” 

Your younger brother held his hands up defensively, “Well, things got boring around here without you!”  He let himself fall towards the ground next to the boulder you’d splayed out all the little pieces of gold you’d managed to scrounge up.  “You manage to make it back from outside of protective waters and instead of hating everything and everyone, you’re suddenly getting all buddy buddy with the tourists trying to get some trinkets.  I know you’re old but are you really getting that desperate?” 

You frowned, “I’m not that old.” 

Iarere rested his face on the cool surface of the rock, prodding at one of the particularly flashy necklaces.  “You’re old to me.”  

Your frown deepened. Not just because your brother was calling you old, but because Luocha’s weekly visit was coming up and you hadn’t managed to gather up nearly as much as you would’ve wanted.   For your kind, caring, doctor husband who was already well off, a few necklaces and a handful of rings and earrings wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to woo him.  “I guess I am getting towards the end of the usual age people get married at.” 

The younger man nodded, humming, “Yeah, so do you have anyone in mind?” 

You bit your lip.  

I mean, yes, you were married. 

But it felt inauthentic if you didn’t present your husband with some kind of dowry first. 

Yes, Luocha only presented you with one of his old rings, but he also paid a hefty sum to rescue you from certain doom.  He also nursed you back to good health, refused to take any payment for any of the medical treatments or the food that’d been wasted making sure you’d retain your strength throughout your recovery. 

In your mind, maybe human dowries were just a little bit different. 

Despite opening your mouth to voice your dissent, your little brother jumped up at the opportunity to tease you.  “So you do have someone you’re thinking about!” 

“I-” 

“What are they like?” Iarere gripped your shoulders, tearing your attention away from your inner dilemma.  “What do they look like? Do I know them?”  He gasped, shaking you back and forth and he demanded to know, “Did you meet them while you were outside?!” 

You gripped at his shoulders in return, “I didn’t say I had anyone in mind!” 

“...”

“...”

He pursed his lips, “Yeah, I’m not buying it.” 

You groaned, bringing your hands up to your face.

He only got more excited, leaning in way too close for comfort as he squealed, “So I was right?!” 

“Right about what?” 

Your eyes darted over to the side, watching one of the few friends you’d managed to retain at your grown age.  “Thank the gods, Akahata, get Iarere off me before he gives me whiplash.” 

He hummed, “Well, I’m more interested in what exactly you guys were talking about before.”  You watched as his eyes flitted from you and your brother to all the precious metal and gems you’d laid out.  “Actually don’t tell me, let me guess.”  He pointed at the rock, “You’re setting up a dowry, but you’re upset because you know no amount of jewelry would ever get anyone in the pod to consider settling down with your ugly mug.”

“HAH!” 

Your ears fluttered in irritation.  “That’s a horrible guess.” 

Akahata shrugged, “Well, I mean, your mug’s only ugly cause you frown all the time.  If you actually made an effort to smile more, you’d probably have a lot more people that’d be willing to accept you with no dowry.” 

Your frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you massaged your temples, “For your information, I’m making a dowry cause I already got married.” 

“...”

“...’

“...”

“You WHAT?!” 

Iarere’s fists clenched even tighter around your biceps, “You told me you lost mom’s earring, not that you got married-” 

“It’s a long story-” You started, 

“Not long enough to not tell either of us!” Your best friend screamed in abject horror.  “The moment Ngaio and I started courting each other I told you immediately-”  You grimaced when he pushed your brother out of the way to be the one to shake you back and forth, “-and you get married and you don’t tell me until afterwards?!” 

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t even realize he was courting me until he gave me his ring-” You countered, face lighting up pink.

“So it’s a him…” Iarere mumbled, putting his hand to his chin.  His expression lit up as the pieces started clicking together in his head.  “Is that where you’re going tomorrow?!” 

“YOU’RE GOING TO MEET HIM TOMORROW?!” 

You were growing more overwhelmed by the minute, averting eye contact.  “Yeah, so what? We’ve been meeting up every week while I was looking for you guys.  Is it weird for husbands to spend time together?” 

Akahata abruptly let go of you, leaving red imprints of his hands on your arms.  “That’s not that problem, that problem-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-is that you’re planning on meeting up with him after returning and you’re not even telling us who he is!” 

Iarere put a hand over his heart, feigning his disappointment as he let himself sink into the sand below.  “I think I’m going to faint.” 

You sighed, “Well-”

Akahata jabbed an accusatory finger in your chest again, “Is he even good looking enough for you? Is he any good at providing? What was his dowry like?  What pod is he even from?!”

“He’s not from a pod-”

Your brother hummed, “So is he a lone wanderer out beyond the boundaries of protected waters saving pretty mermen he wants to marry?” 

Your face twisted into one of disgust, “Keep your fantasies to yourself.” 

Iarere huffed, “Well, what else am I supposed to think when you say he’s not from a pod?  He obviously has so be some kind of lone wolf, PLUS you got married before you made it back.” 

Akahata put a contemplative hand under his chin, “I mean he has a point.” 

You shook your head, “He’s a human.” 

“...” 

“...” 

“...”

“You’re joking.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re joking…” 

You held up your hand, gesturing towards the ring on your finger. 

“Oh my god, you’re not actually joking.” 

Your younger brother squealed, “Oh my god this is like something out of all those movies on the surface! Tell me all about it!” 

You frowned, pushing through both your peers to make it back to your makeshift table top.  “He’s… a doctor, but he was working as a trader on a big ship.   He was there the night I got caught and he ended up buying me off the boat and he patched me up and released me.” 

Your best friend sighed, “Only you can make a story that romantic sound like a business deal.” 

Iarere furrowed his brows, “Wait, wait, wait, when did he propose?” 

“Well-” You fumbled over your words, “I caught feelings and I thought I might as well start the courtship process-” 

“YOU made the first move?!” 

“Shut up!” You pushed your overly eager younger brother’s face away, “I didn’t know if he even knew about mermaid courting so if I was going to start courting him, I had to do it then.”

“...go on.”

You sighed, “I gave him mom’s old earring, but instead of just taking it, he gave me one of the rings he was wearing.” You covered your face, feeling another wave of crimson wash everywhere from your neck to the tips of your ears.  You still couldn’t get the memory of him showing off the earring out of your fucking head. “I mean- I- I even asked if he knew what offering me his ring meant and he just put it in my hand.” 

Your younger brother kicked around on the sand eagerly, waving his hands around excitedly.  “That is actually one of THE most romantic proposals I’ve ever heard of!” 

Akahata crossed his arms, “Damn, I feel like mine was lacking.” 

You huffed, “Well, Ngaio is still your wife.” 

“And whatever his face is still managed to wife you--of all people--up.”

“Touche.”

“Oh wow, you brought more than you usually do.” 

Luocha chuckled behind his hand, his own little bag of purchased trinkets hanging loosely at his side. 

You hummed, thumbing over the beautiful glistening stone of a diamond necklace you’d managed to get off of a rather infamous regular.  “You’re one to talk.” 

He gave a small grunt of exertion as he sat next to you on the sand, letting the bag fall to the side, “You’ve got me there.”  He couldn’t help the pleasant swell of warmth in his face as you gestured for him to turn around. 

I mean, maybe you weren’t the best at communicating what you were feeling or what you wanted from him, but you’d been getting better.  Instead of just grunting a yes or no to the questions he’d ask, you’d actually make time for some conversation with him.  Be it from your annoying younger brother to the changes in the pod since you’d returned, it seemed you shared what little woes you had with Luocha.  

You also seemed to share endless amounts of little golden treasures with him.  From old, worn gold, oxidized iron, anything really that you could find, you provided it to him and put it on him with the most delicate touch your rough, scarred hands could muster.  Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something.  He couldn’t control the way his heart sped up whenever you leaned in to help him put on a new pair of earrings you’d gifted him.  He surmised gift giving was some kind of love language that was common among merfolk.  Perhaps you’d also enjoy it if he brought you gifts of equal value! 

Still, the pounding in his heart was not helped when you’d started smiling at him. 

Everytime he managed to catch one of the rare glimpses of your smile–even worse when you’d laugh–he almost felt like he was looking at something forbidden.  Something he wasn’t worthy of, right in front of him.  For someone who had been through so much, you really opened up to him remarkably quickly after you’d been released.  Perhaps before release you’d been scared of being sold off? The familiar feeling of the waters must’ve don wonders to make you relax this much. 

Even worse when the physical affection began.  It started as simple as reaching out to the side of his face to brush the hair away from his ear so you could catch sight of the golden hoop he’d taken to wearing.   It transitioned to taking his gloves off so you could look at the rings you ended up gifting him.   Before he could really process how quickly the two of you were moving, you were pressed up against him at every opportunity.  

He knew it was natural for merfolk to not wear clothing, but did you have to have such a muscular chest? 

Even now, as you fumbled with the clasp of the absolutely beautiful diamond necklace, you wrapped an equally muscular aquatic tail around his leg.  He didn’t exactly know if this was normal between merfamily-could he call them that?--, being overly affectionate.   Even if it felt like a little more than just normal bonding, he did his best to still the pounding of his heart when your fingers brushed his hair out of the way so you could make sure the gem was oriented correctly.  

Trying his hardest to quell the tide of warmth surging up to the tips of his ears, he put a hand over his erratic heartbeat.  He prayed to the Aeons above you couldn’t feel it as your chest pressed against his back.  

You wrapped your arms snug around his torso, pulling him further into your stomach.  Resting your chin on top of his blonde hair, you found the gloved hand resting over his heart to hold in your own.   The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment. 

“...”

“...”

You gave a quiet huff before you moved your chin from on top of his head to bury itself into the crook of his neck.  As his fingers interlocked with yours, he found himself looking at all the gold rings he’d adorned your fingers with.  Each and every one, he could put a time and day to. 

But then, his eyes landed on your ring finger. 

“Oh, you still wear that old thing?”

“...hm?”

You glanced down at your hand, raising a brow.  His finger was tracing over the ring he’d exchanged when he was releasing you back into the open water.

“You still wear the same earring I gave you,” you murmured, flicking it with your freehand.  “I’ve given you countless pairs of earrings since, yet even when you wear one stud, you’ll always wear the same one every time I see you.” 

His chest rumbled with a bout of laughter, “I suppose you’re right.”  He perked up suddenly, “Oh, that reminds me, speaking of this earring…” He reached towards the rather large bag of gifts he’d brought with him.  He threw a few of the boxes of gold ornaments he’d purchased before finally fishing the box he was looking for out of the bottom.  “I went shopping and when I saw this pair, I simply knew you’d love it.” 

You hummed, looking at the little navy blue box in his hand.

He made quick work of the bow wrapped around the holding case, nimble fingers peeling open the little box before he presented you with his gift on their signature velvet cushion. It looked like… 

…a replica of your mother’s earrings. 

He offered them up to you with a bashful smile, watching in silent amusement when your ears flicked back and forth in some kind of excitement. 

Delicately, gently, you picked up one of the hoops and twirled it around your fingers. 

“...”

“...”

“...Well? Do you like it?”

You didn’t respond, reaching up to your right ear to remove the little stud you’d chosen to wear to this outing.  Fidgeting with the clasp of the loop, you threaded it with a calculated ease through your piercing.   

“I like it.” 

He clasped his hands together, “Good, I’m more than glad.” 

“...”

“...”

“She would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“Hm?”

You paused, “My mother, I mean,” Your thumb fidgeted with the back of the earring.  “She always wanted to see her sons get married, but she passed before she could.” 

Luocha blinked.  

“Pardon?” 

You tilted your head to the side, “My mother; she would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“No, no,” Luocha could feel the deep claret paint his face a messy red as he scooted to face you, “What did you mean by seeing her sons get married?”

“...

…Did you not know?” 

Luocha blinked. 

“We’re married.” 

Another blink. 

“You… Is that why…?” He gestured towards the gifts strewn across the sand.  He looked back towards his own bag of gifts. 

‘Oh for crying out loud-’

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I apologize, I seem to have… entered this marriage under false pretenses.”  He put his hands on his temples, “How- Where- When exactly did this happen?”

You hummed, “When you let me back out into the water.  When I gifted you my mother’s earring, that was the signal I wanted to start courting you.  When you gift something back, that’s an officiation of marriage.” 

He coughed into his hand, trying to think through this situation logically. 

Okay, so he accidentally got married.

What the fuck. 

The train of thought seemed to end there. 

…

He was, however, plagued with another train of thought. 

‘Well, you have been making eyes at him for a few months now.’ 

…

Those thoughts were not helping.  

“...”

“...”

“If you want to end the marriage, it’s as simple as saying so,” you added, “I thought you knew what my intentions were-”

“NO!”

Luocha covered the bottom half of his mouth.  “I’m fine with the arrangement as is, but it appears human marriage and merfolk marriage are officiated in very different ways.” 

Your brows furrowed. 

“...”

“...”

“...Are you saying you want to officiate the marriage as humans would?”

The tips of Luocha’s ears burned with embarrassment.  “I-” 

You held one of his hands in yours, eyes seemingly boring holes into his face,  “Whatever it is, as long as you want to do it, I will do it to the best of my ability.” 

Any complaints were silenced when he was confronted with such sincerity.  “Well…”

You waited patiently, folding your hands in your lap.  

Finally, it seemed your “husband” made up his mind.  

“Close your eyes.” 

You paused, seemingly surprised, but nonetheless your eyes fluttered shut moments after. 

Luocha urged himself to breathe, flexing and unflexing his hands.  

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he…

…planted an innocent peck on your lips.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" idk how to describe it but now being on the other side of this, i'm feeling something similar to post nut clarity "

first post since losing literally everything on my first account yay !!

yes guys, luocha and his mermaid husband were openly cuddling on the beach for months and he's wondering "is he into me or am i bro-zoned"

that being said, losing my tumblr has now forced me to realize how many people genuinely like my writing hey guys I went scrolling through user kamisatoelogy's blog to look for their modern ayato fic and i found out someone dedicated time and effort into archiving my works???? and you guys went looks for me????

i fr feel like getting on my hands and knees and thanking everyone for all their support and love over this process and apologizing for scaring you guys so bad

you guys are so sweet and so many of you have been so helpful in getting my blog back up and running again :((

i started drafting my fics in google docs to make sure it isn't all GONE if i get shit on again so this chapter is brought to you by font: unica one, it was 27 pages total (i am insane)

shout out to Chappell Roan cause she really put me in my tunnel vision work zone while i was writing this

if u guys r looking for a writing hack, i trained myself like a sleeper agent to start writing when i play songs on hour loop it puts me in a work rut

- love, operator t-19

[r--kt]

Where actually was this betrayal line for Obito that Kakashi had crossed?

about the whole "anyone got Kakashi, but not Obito" thing that @komihoyinsblog said. I remembered where the culmination of this theme was. no, like, this whole topic is real!

let's talk about the scene after when Jubito was defeated. here I will analyse kkobkk relationships and Obito's arc specifically.

contents | context · meaning of the scene · where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

CH. 655

Context

during the battle with the shinobi alliance, Obito came face to face with a deeply repressed desire for another life, which he did not realize due to his position as the only one who can fulfill the tsukuyomi plan. the battle itself as well as the conversation with Naruto reminds Obito of the aspirations and values dear to him that he had to sacrifice. all this has noticeably hit Obito and now he is disarmed and stripped of his armor, which is metaphorically reflected in his half-naked body (and cuz fans love men's boobs).

CH. 652. god, look how happy he is, I'm sobbing. love the way he never regrets about his scars, they're with him even in his imagination, that's a reminder of his core values.

structurally, in Obito's arc, this scene is the Collapse point and the end of the second act. here, the previous methods (the tsukuyomi plan) have shown their inconsistency, and the goal (peace for everyone and for him, too) has not been achieved, and he must find a new way to achieve this goal. at the beginning of the scene, he is confused, defeated and not ready to face the consequences.

why isn't he ready? he's lying there, seemingly resigned. yeah, not exactly. here, he accepted the impending death, and it's even not bad to die by Kakashi's hand to some extent. another question is, is he ready to talk to him, is he ready to accept the defeat and find the strength to continue the journey?

Meaning of the scene

once again, it is important that the battle with the alliance and the conversation with Naruto influenced Obito, but did not convince him. it was Kakashi who did it.

in fact, this conversation with Kakashi is a crucial reason for Obito to return to his ideals. before that, he was in doubt (the second act is a reflection of the character, as if hesitating from one side to the other), and after that he takes the side of the alliance. what did Kakashi say that made Obito come back?

three questions Obito is asking.

how can you be sure that Naruto won't fail on his way, unlike me? [pic 2, above]

why are you so attached to Naruto, what's the difference between him and me? [pic below]

why are you willing to help him (and not me)? [pic below]

they don't talk about different paths here. Kakashi emphasizes that Obito's path is not exactly wrong, so that's not the deal. it's about Obito and Naruto as people, and, more, about Kakashi's opinion on Obito.

finding out why he is not the one whose path Kakashi is ready to defend is essential for Obito. he wants to understand why Naruto (aka Obito's previous self, too) is closer to him, why Kakashi does not support the actual one for whom he grieved so much. why, even recognizing the possible correctness of tsukuyomi, Kakashi refuses to support Obito in this, prefers to go the same way. and also look at how damn emotional he is at this moment, his feelings go from anger to anxiety in a couple of frames. that's what happened when the central conflict "I'm never good enough to be loved" is raised.

Obito's questions are a subconscious appeal to Kakashi — "why don't you choose me? I could make you happy. what's wrong with me again?!" he thinks that the reason Kakashi doesn't take his side is not because of the correctness of his path, but because of Obito himself. subconsciously, he thinks that it's because of Kakashi's personal dislike of this "new" Obito, and he is very afraid of this might be true. just look at his face at the bottom of the page, he's really worried about hearing Kakashi's answer. oh, and it's actually the same meaning as "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different" [ Jinx's quote from Arcane, yes, I like to compare these two sometimes ].

what Kakashi says in this situation means "let me help you." Kakashi said he would be ready to help Obito if he let him in, if he allowed him. this is literally the only condition (which is important to mention here) under which Obito did not pass, because of his desire to reject Kakashi's help, believing that he must put his life on tsukuyomi plan and cut off all ties. but this does not mean that he wanted Kakashi to cut off this tie in return.

Obito was an individualist, and he only scoffed or got angry at Kakashi's offer to help/sympathize. now they're in a situation when Obito finally hear that Kakashi said "you've made mistakes, but that's okay. I can be with you, if you need me to, and I'm okay with you continuing your life and reaching peace. I accept you and I believe in you." and I want you to appreciate that this is the tipping point of Obito's arc.

so, that's why Obito changes his way of acting. Kakashi shows that he accepts Obito the way he is, and thus significantly reduces Obito's need to prove his worth through his own hardships and overcoming difficulties. yes, Kakashi had already said similar things before, and it didn't work, but here this line is resolved precisely because of this deep conversation they had.

Where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

oh, maybe Rin's death was a thing Obito considered a betrayal from Kakashi's part? everything's much less trivial. would he offer to help Kakashi if he thought he was a traitor? and well, he offered.

CH. 630

no, look at his face on the bottom right, why would you say that with such a gentle face to someone you consider a traitor? what is it, a genuine smile? so something happened besides that.

the betrayal was that Kakashi preferred his other ties to the connection with Obito. here, betrayal is not about killing Rin, and not about breaking a promise — all these are mistakes that Obito is able to forgive.

all the moments when Obito says something like "you had the opportunity to kill me, but you didn't do it", "you can't deal with me because of guilt?", "still blaming yourself for the broken promises?" - all this is an attempt to increase his own value, to show the importance of Obito for Kakashi. and it's also a projection. Obito says, "you had so many opportunities to kill me, but you..." although he does the same. like, why would he leave Kakashi alive after the kamui battle? intentionally inflict a non-fatal wound on him and leave him in a dimension that only he and Obito have access to? "I don't care if he's alive or dead," but at every opportunity he chose the option "alive", even if it's less profitable for him. my baby loves to deceive himself so much.

all this time, Obito believed that he was striving for their common dream, and therefore the condemnation from Kakashi (there should be a couple more frames from the manga) feels like the most painful blow for him, especially when Kakashi says that Rin would not want it either. before that, Obito had compared himself and Kakashi a couple of times, put them on an equal footing, and after being rejected by him, that's where Obito feels really lonely.

the point of no return was precisely the fact that Kakashi shows with his own words that he does not accept the current Obito and everything he's been striving for years. all this, taken together, he considered a betrayal, as if he's not enough, as if he fucked everything up again.

therefore, their conflict is resolved by the acceptance of one person by another, this is in fact exactly what Obito's heart wanted — to hear that he could be accepted after all that had happened. the same thing happened after his death, when he finally met Rin, by the way.

hope the text is not that messy. oh, and! that kkob video I've made with mitski's song. this fits the topic so well. love these guys

[starcurtain]

Ratiorine Fics I Want to Read

1) Modern AU: When Veritas Ratio discovers a beautiful businessman poised to jump from the roof of his apartment building, he does something he's never done half as seriously before: makes a bet. One month--in just one month, he will find this "Aventurine" a reason to keep living. The terms: 30 days, anything goes, whatever it takes to make some kind of meaning out of a miserable existence. If Ratio loses, a brilliant-eyed gambler will disappear from the world forever. If Aventurine loses... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. (Of course, neither of them anticipated that Ratio would end up becoming Aventurine's reason to live--but there's something to be said for non-zero-sum games.)

2) "I'm real sorry to bother you, mister, but I think I'm lost?" Aventurine is pretty sure he's dreaming. Pretty sure he's been pulled back to the hellscape known as Penacony. Pretty sure the Lady Emanator might need to come back and take another swing at him, to burn out the last hold of the Harmony for real this time. Because those are the only logical explanations for why Aventurine is currently locking eyes with his own younger self, standing very confused in the middle of his trussed up Pier Point condo, far from the Family's shadow. (Or: That one where a blessing from Gaiathra temporarily sends the young Kakavasha out of harm's way--straight into the care of his future self. Aventurine isn't the ideal person to care for a child, but hells if he's going to let his younger self experience anything less than the safest and most wonderful weeks of his short, miserable life. The only real problem is, well, how is he possibly going to explain this to Ratio?)

3) A super soft, small fic of Ratio reflecting on all the ways his life has changed since Aventurine came into it--there's noise in his apartment now, and a photo on his desk in the office; there's troublesome snacks to pet sit and someone keeps sneaking inappropriate jokes into his lecture transcripts. There's a sounding board to test his lesson topics on, and a peacock on his cellphone lock screen because he's developed a newfound fondness for the color. There's a go-between nowadays when the ravenous investors come sniffing after the results of his research, and unlabeled packages containing exotic bath salts from star systems even Ratio has never heard of... But most beloved of all: the sense of soundness and symmetry, of something unexpected settling perfectly into his hold, at last.

4) Bodyswap AU: Ratio and Aventurine end up on a mission that goes wrong in every sense of the word (aeons, it's always aeons). They're separated with probably half the known universe between them, stranded on unrecorded planets without credits or technology, and--most bizarrely have all--have definitely swapped bodies. Cool. Cool. What the fuck. Aventurine is honestly tempted to say he might be coming out ahead in this whole drama--he's ripped and tall now--until he discovers that in Ratio's body, he doesn't have his luck. Meanwhile, Ratio is discovering just how much harder life is for Signonians, and coming to truly appreciate how strong of a person Aventurine really is. Somehow, they've got to make it back from half way across the universe, accomplish their mission, and get their own bodies back. Please?

5) A collection of complaint logs very important internal IPC records:

Complaints received on the dangerous behavior of new Stoneheart "Aventurine of Stratagems"

Complaints received on the hostile work environment created by Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. Veritas Ratio

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Proposal (Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. V. R.

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Proposal (No Longer Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with IG Consultant Dr. V. R.

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete, three days before projected date, Casualties: 0, Complaints: 0

Note from Clerk #157B to Clerk #162S, on digital post-it: "Are you seeing this shit?"

Mission Report, Status: Complete, two days behind schedule, Complaints: 1 - "Please don't subject me to the drivel of untrained imbeciles again. If you're going to send someone from outside the Technology Department, at least provide a competent strategist. The same one from last time, preferably."

Mission Report, Status: Complete, Casualties: 1, Complaints: 1 - "Just send Ratio next time, okay?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the questionable conduct of Stoneheart Aventurine: "Why did my boss send me to buy bath bombs? Who are these for?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the biased behavior of IG Consultant Dr. V. R.: "Why does boss get called 'dear gambler' while the rest of us are 'fool'?"

Penacony Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Notice of Hiatus from Intelligentsia Guild Activities and Sabbatical from Lecturing, Reason Given: None

Request for Paid Leave, to: Diamond, cc: Jade, bcc: Topaz, Reason Given: Elopement 💖

6) Maybe it's not a sensitive thing to ask. Maybe some stories are better left in the past. But Veritas Ratio has never been able to curb his desire to know--nor his desire to right the wrongs the world with that knowledge. Laid bare, pale against the lip of the tub, with nothing but the rippling of the bathwater to accompany him, Aventurine tells the story of each of his scars. Some marks cannot be washed away. But some--with time, with touch--can heal.

[valtsv]

im curious about your thoughts, would you talk a little about the theme of gender in the terror? i just enjoy your perspective!

okay i can't promise you the properly formatted essay with footnotes and citations i would love to write given the time and energy, but sure, i'd love to. because the theme of gender is central to the terror, particularly regarding the victorian ideal of masculinity, as a part of the greater overarching narrative theme of social constructions and structures being stripped away, and what and who remains after (crozier even explicitly remarks to fitzjames at the beginning of episode 7 that the remains of their civilization which they're clinging to for a sense of comfort and stability will begin to 'fall and drop away' as they travel further). we see this not just in the case of fitzjames, whose national identity and sense of selfhood we're given some insight into through the lens of gender, both with the iconic dress scene and his subsequent choice to dress as britannia, the feminine symbol of british imperial power, for carnivale - a juxtaposition which emphasizes the contrast between his private and public personas, and between the moment of vulnerability and honest self-expression in the scene where he holds up the dress and smiles at his reflection, and the ironic mask he dons for carnivale as a shield to conceal his doubts and insecurities, and any 'shameful' desires he might have - but also, for example, in the case of collins, who in the same episode seeks out goodsir, whose emotional availability and honesty have earned him the derision of his crewmates in the forms of scornful looks and derogatory comments denouncing his mannerisms as 'womanish' and thus shameful, but which only become increasingly necessary and shared amongst more of the men as they're forced to rely more and more on one another for support, and societal expectations of how they should conduct themselves become increasingly irrelevant, their fragility exposed and found wanting. collins is rebuffed and reprimanded by dr. stanley in episode 6, who dismisses his emotional distress, but in the following episode with goodsir he's encouraged to confide in him and, upon doing so, breaks down in tears and shares a desperate hug with him in full view of their camp; actions which would have been confined to privacy if they were allowed to be expressed at all earlier on. everywhere, cracks are beginning to show in this ideal construct of masculinity that the men were once expected and so proud to uphold.

silna's presence also highlights the themes of gender, and how they intersect with race and ethnicity; she is almost exclusively referred to as a 'girl' by the men of the expedition despite clearly being both a grown women and far more competent at surviving in the arctic than they are. the empire and its subjects' unwillingness to accept that someone who is both a native to the region and a woman could be more knowledgeable and better equipped than they are to deal with the situation leads them to assert their perceived superiority through how they address and refer to her, using the infantilizing language of 'girl', which although i believe the use of was more common in victorian england than it was today, nonetheless carries these implications, particularly when it's almost exclusively the only term they use to describe her. even those men who are more open to accepting the need to rely on the knowledge and support of the indigenous peoples of the region in order to survive there, such as crozier, don't begin to realize this until it's already too late. we also see the weaponization of femininity as a badge of shame of weakness with, as aforementioned, goodsir, and with hickey when he says to gibson that he "was such a good wife to me all these months" in order to get under his skin after gibson declares their relationship to be over.

we also see this victorian ideal of masculinity physically begin to 'fall away' as the men's bodies and minds deteriorate due to the extreme conditions they find themselves in. as sickness and despair set in, the men are no longer physically able to uphold this construction they've been told their whole lives it is vitally important that they strive to maintain in all their undertakings, further compounding the horror of their experience, but also liberating them. hickey again takes advantage of this, too, demonstrating his intelligence and quick, pragmatic thinking when he castrates irving's corpse after murdering him in order to threaten the remaining shreds of the men's masculinity and inflame them into rash, reactive action. and fitzjames comes full circle in his own gender-influenced narrative when he confesses his long-carried shame to crozier, finally unburdening himself of the idea of 'james fitzjames' that he built on the foundations of that masculine ideal the society he lived in values so highly and as a result is able to let himself lean on a fellow man for support and shed tears for the first time (that we see onscreen at least), and when he asks crozier to euthanize him to help him out of his suffering in his final moments - both poison and suicide have traditionally earned a reputation as means used by 'women and cowards' to escape the brutal reality of death, but they allow fitzjames to die with as much dignity and the least amount of suffering as the at that point truly desperate circumstances allow, and far more than the more ideally masculine, imperial british glory he once aspired to of death in combat or without any medical assistance to ease his passing would have.

[dross-the-fish]

Colorized Hyde paced around the makeshift lab, wondering how Adam Frankenstein had assembled such a busy workshop without the aid of an assistant.  “Does Dr Watson know you have all this?” he asked, peering at an assortment of organs in flasks.

Adam shook his head, “He does not and I'd be grateful if you didn't reveal my secrets. I like Dr Watson and I know he won’t approve of my work,” he strode over to a large vat filled with liquid in the middle of the room, "If we bring Miss Morris back he may forgive me, if not I'll simply defy him. I accept no masters and though I owe him much he will not command me in this," he pulled a lever and sparks of electricity crackled down the wires connecting to the vat, charging the liquid. He waited a full minute, counting the seconds before he shut off the power.

Hyde nodded, he saw no reason to do Watson any favors or derail Frankenstein's projects so he found himself agreeable "Mum's the word, old chap, I don't see any reason why he should be in the loop,” He tapped the vat with his cane. "What's in here,"

"A compound of chemicals Victor used to submerge me in while he ran the current through my body. This, "Adam made a sweeping gesture over the vat, "Is the elixir that rejuvenates the dead cells and primes them for the electricity to do its work. it took me forever to figure out how to make it but thanks to Dr Watson granting me access to all of his medical tomes my methods may surpass even that of my maker’s," his even white teeth flashed sharply against the harshness of his black lips in a gruesome, self-satisfied grin. He imagined Victor would have been horrified to see his creation carrying on his work, but Adam had not time for guilt or self-reflection now, a life hung in the balance, waiting to be plucked back from the grave and restored.

He was almost giddy with anticipation. He had not disclosed to Hyde that the consciousness that awakened might not be that of their companion. He himself had no memories of a time before his birth and there was just as much likelihood that she too would return as a blank slate. That was not ideal, he admitted, but he could not think such a thing to be a total loss. To have another like himself would be adequate consolation for the loss of Ms Morris. Whatever was brought back, Adam swore to himself that he would not turn his back on his creation. He would do better by his progeny than his own father. Of that he was certain.

"You've resurrected people before?" Hyde's voice intruded as the small man wandered across the lab peering at the glimmering, viscous, liquids that funneled into the vat with interest.

"Not people, but I've brought back several frogs, two cats and a dog," said Adam, "It works and I think perhaps better for my access to the advancement in medicine since my makers time,” He turned to Hyde, "Now, before we begin, did you get the heart?"

Hyde drew a jar from his coat, a perfectly preserved human heart sealed within. Adam nodded in satisfaction, "Excellent, I'm not going to ask where you got it, frankly I do not care so long as it is in good condition and fresh."

"Oh it's fresh alright, and in excellent condition, I tested the donor's constitution myself before the harvest," Hyde chortled as he handed the jar over.

"Mmm, let's not tell Miss Morris that when we bring her back. I don't know how she'd take to finding out you killed someone to get a new heart for her," Adam pursed his lips, he was not legitimately displeased as fresher parts guaranteed a higher chance of success. He looked down at Hyde curiosity scrawled across his features, "Why are you so keen on helping me with this? I know you don't like Watson but this can't all be spite."

"It isn't," Hyde confirmed, "I am genuinely curious to see if this works. I am a scientist at heart after all. More to the point, I liked Miss Morris, she was the only one in our group who doesn't have a stick up her arse and she was good at cards. Besides if I’m stuck with no one but you, Watson and that sanctimonious little shit Harker then I’m going to make damn sure that you’re all as miserable with my company as I am yours. “

"You are, perhaps, the most hateful creature I have ever met...and I am myself, a vile devil," Adam remarked passively as he laid Selma's body on the table and handed Edward the scalpel, "This is your job. I could possibly do it but, I believe, you are an actual doctor and you have the learning and the experience that I lack. I trust you can transplant the heart?"

Edward frowned, "I can, though the task requires a certain level of detachment and patience. That was always Jekyll’s domain…I’ll do my best.”

Adam readied the apparatus that would bring Selma Morris back to life while Edward prepped himself for surgery. As he was washing his hands a small trickle of fear ran down his spine. Could he really do this? It was one thing to patch a small wound but a major surgery, even on a cadaver, required attentiveness and delicacy, those traits did not come easily to him without Henry’s temperance. His head swam, what if he made a mistake? What if he botched it up and they really lost her forever? He felt suddenly nauseous as he picked up the scalpel and prepared to make the first incision.  As the blade hovered over the corpse’s chest he froze, paralyzed by an overwhelming uncertainty. His anxiety built to a point that he found himself fighting the urge to slash into the body and start hacking away. Smash the lab, destroy it all and rip everything apart then burn it to the ground as long as he didn’t have to face the risk of failure.

Did he really want that? He didn’t know…that was the rub of it. Indecision held him pinned and he could feel his control begin to slip.

"Give me the scalpel, Edward," a calm voice in the back of his mind said firmly just as he was about to plunge the instrument into the dead woman’s chest, "you're too shaken up. Let me take over,"

"I'm not letting you out Henry, you tried to kill us and I haven't forgiven you! I know as soon as you're free you'll try to lock me away again!"

"No Edward, I won't. I'll transplant the heart and then I'll let you have control again. I give you my word."

"You mean that now but I know once you're out you'll be tempted! You’ll feel all of those things again that I keep at bay! Shame and sorrow will eat us if I let us be you again! We’ll want to die and we can't resist temptation no matter which of us we are!"

"Isn't Miss Morris worth the risk? I liked her too Edward. If she can be brought back then shouldn’t we try? Listen to me Edward, we don’t want to fail. We want to give this its best chance, let me have the scalpel."

Hyde resisted only briefly before he shuddered, closed his eyes and retreated. Jekyll took a moment to get his bearings, nod at Adam, who was staring at him in confusion, and then swiftly, cleanly, he made the first incision. .....

My players accidentally got an NPC killed and begged me to bring her back. This scene was the result.

[hikaaa-bi]

i don't know if this has already been talked about before, but i just wanted to point out something interesting i noticed in TOH

see them? see how their eyes have that little glint? all the characters in this show have that reflection of light in their eyes.

except for Belos.

his eyes area very dull shade of sky blue and it does not reflect light. it doesn't have that glint.

his eyes look lifeless, cold and raw. even when his face shows expressions, his eyes are completely devoid of emotion.

even in frames where there's light shining at his face, and there should realistically be a reflection. there isn't.

and guess what. he had the glint, like the other characters, when he was still Philip. when he had just come to the boiling isles and hadn't become a false prophet, tyrant or an abuser yet.

he was still a terrible person back then but i'll bet that he had some ounce of empathy at the time. but not anymore. Belos is now completely inhumane. he has no empathy, no regret or remorse, he does not care what he has to sacrifice or what he already sacrificed, he does not care for the well-being of anyone, not even himself.

you can't even describe him as self-serving because the man is willing to destroy his entire body and turn into a gooey bone monster, if it means accomplishing his goal.

all that matters to him now are his flawed ideals that he so stubbornly refuses to change. he traded his body, soul and his ability to relate to and connect with others, all for a chance at fulfilling a dream that was never worth it.

[katyahina]

It is really interesting to speculate about the meaning of this.. Messengers are associated with the dreaming Hunters and the Dream, but what if those of them who are too far from the Dream are under a lot of strain and the image of the nice person that cared for them is just the only thing they can rely on?

^ In regards to Doll being a 'vessel' of Moon Presence in some regard, this reminds me of Crawlers, other Nightmare creatures! Their larger variants have multiple Messengers sticking out of their guts. I have a personal headcanon on them, but imagine: whereas Winter Lanterns imitate the Doll (and by doing so, Moon Presence), Crawlers are meant to imitate corpse of Kos with the ripped guts. Both are sort of mockery from the Great Ones. A sort of punishment maybe, because if Messengers are souls of the deceased, could Messengers crampled into Crawlers or Winter Lanterns be somehow "failed" spirits? Ones that are yet still to "atone", or, in the case of Moon Presence, ones not taking part in the cycle of the Hunt for one reason or another?

(Retranslation script I always use: ( x ) Internal filenames: ( x ))

Hunters of Hunters had reasons to believe in "proper" burial that further connected to the Hunter's Dream, and Winter Lanterns are referred to be 'failed' Messengers! It might be extention of that fucked up concept of people being cursed for not being properly buried in the eyes of whatever God.

Doll and Gehrman both have interesting connection with the Nightmare Realm, too! Gehrman, strangely, shares the cry with Orphan of Kos, but even if that's to be blamed on simple reuse of assets he still more strangely feels relief after OoK is freed! Whatever prompted that link but who is to tell that spiritual connection with a Great One he helped to torture would not guarantee his own negative emotions helped to give "shape" to Nightmare? It is a lot of power, and the Doll is probably a horrible memory. Maybe the blood and guts' on the dress of Winter Lanterns is a reflection of his pain, memory of an innocent person he trained to be a ruthless murderer, thus ruining that soft version of her and... it didn't end well for Maria, did it?

Alllllright, and before I devolved into a crying cat meme- Doll, strangely, is asleep sometimes, which a doll should not... need? Meanwhile, we find Maria asleep too. I've always loved the idea of their spiritual connection where when one is asleep another is awake, and vice-versa! Ideally, Maria would die and be "reborn" within the Doll, in a way. Could be a spiritual thing of latching onto an object that resembles you (Doll also has Maria's brooch, boots and ribbon but in her hat now ( x )). Or could be Moon Presence's way to further "glorify" her as one of the greatest Hunters. Because, she is Flora of the Hunt. In any case, Kos said no, so Maria's soul is in two states... Winter Lanterns are amalgamation of the two, as well - a gentle singing woman in a dress, but also this dress is bloodied and the woman is aggressive, and don't forget Kin metamorphosis because both Maria and the Doll are close to Eldrich Horrors now!

I don't have much to elaborate on other options as they are much more self-explanatory! Paleblood Hunter wakes up without memories, so Doll could be the most striking person for them, but who is to tell other people would not see THEIR comfort person terribly distorted in Winter Lanterns' place? My personal opinion though is that heads of melted Messengers is a crucial part here.. but I think ALL variants could work so well that seeking 'logical' appeal is pointless ;-; It boils down to what feels more appealing, I suppose..

[vernons-girl]

Hello! Can I request a scene with bf!dk/mingyu where the reader feels insecure that they are not enough/replaceable? If it can be with a male reader it would be ideal, but it can also be neutral thanks uu!!!!! ^^

what he likes | lee dokyeom x male!reader

TW// body image issues, self dislike

angsty, fluff,wc:0.5k

i wrote something similar for mingyu already (you can check it out here) so i decided to write this one for dk! hope that's okay and enjoy!

Your boyfriend always told you he loved you just the way you were.

But were you what he liked ?

This is what came through your head as you looked up from your phone at the back of the practice room where your boyfriend was dancing with his friends.

You looked at all of them and you couldn't this feeling of insecurity creeping up.

You knew your boyfriend didn't like any of them, nor had he ever, they were his friends, his brothers.

Yet you couldn't help but wonder if he had ever found any of them attractive, more attractive than you. Did he get along with them better ? Would any of them be a better boyfriend than you?

On one hand you felt awful for thinking this way but your insecurities often got the best of you, hence the current torment happening in your head.

Were you too skinny? Too chubby? Too buff? Too tall? Too small? Too loud? Too quiet? Too chatty?

Were you smart enough? Patient enough? Caring enough? Funny enough? Loving enough?

Were you too much? Or perhaps were you not enough?

You were suddenly pulled out of your daze as a hand brushed against your face to catch your attention. You lifted your head to look at the owner of this hand. Dokyeom.

Your one and only. Looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes as he shot you the brightest smile ever known to mankind.

"What's going on in your pretty head" he asked squatting down to be eye level with you.

"Mh? Nothing. Just zoning out" you lied.

However, your boyfriend knew you. "Come on pretty boy, tell me" he insists, his hand reaching once again for your face, placing it on the side of your face, caressing it with his thumb.

You melt at his touch, slightly leaning into it.

"Do you mean it?" you ask with glossy eyes, trying to hold in your emotions as much as possible.

"Do I mean what?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, still smiling.

"That I'm pretty? you suddenly felt like a middle schooler by asking this question, never mind it's silly I-

- Of course. You're the prettiest in the room. In the universe even. Perfect inside and out. Almost like God made you just for me." he replied sincerely before leaning in to press a firm, loving kiss on your lips, his hand never leaving your face.

You lean into the kiss, holding his face with both of your hands.

A grunt from one of the boys burst out your lovely bubble so you pulled away, pressing your foreheads against one another's, softly chuckling.

"I guess I've gotta get back, yeah?" Dokyeom said as he got up from his previous position.

You nod with a smile.

"You've got this. I love you!" you said, holdings your hands in front of you, making two thumbs up.

He laughed "I love you too y/n."

As you look at your reflection and your boyfriend's, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of those two boyfriends, perfectly made for each other.

[typenull]

my laios and kabru dungeon meshi pokemon teams (respectively). explanations for each pick and my general ideas of how they would be as trainers below.

spoiler warning!

first up, laios

laios would be a very very dedicated pokemon trainer, and an avid researcher of pokemon ecology. i think he would be in absolute bliss in the pokemon world, a world where “monsters” and people live and work together in harmony. i wanted to represent his dedication by giving him pokemon that are rare, or take plenty of effort to evolve, either by friendship or by extensive level grinding. i also felt like laios would be fascinated by the concept of shiny hunting, and wanted to reflect this in his team.

his pokemon

silvally: self explanatory, isn't it? reflective of his "awesome monster". it’s a chimera that resents humans based on the circumstance of it’s existence. evolves based on love and true friendship. the absolute epitome of laios’s true identity. they are also both legendary and extremely rare, so this means he had to put in a lot of hard work to get a partner like this.

Through the bond it formed with its Trainer, its will was strengthened, and it was able to destroy its control mask.

The final factor needed to release this Pokémon's true power was a strong bond with a Trainer it trusts.

lycanroc: represents the dogs that raised him in his parent’s absence, and also his true ideal “wolf self”. it's my opinion that the wolf head of laios’s chimera form is the one that most concretely represents laios (it’s missing in earlier portrayals of his chimera form, and is the reason he chooses the wolf cloak when he becomes king.). it is also extremely loyal and protective of those it loves, just like laios.

When properly raised from a young age, it will become a trustworthy partner that will absolutely never betray its Trainer.

pyroar: indicative of the winged lion, obviously, but also a reference to the “main body” of the greek chimera myth. shiny mostly because the colors of the shiny remind me of him more. also male, not just for the mane, but because pyroar is 97.5% female — so this form is very rare! this pokedex entry really reminds me of laios:

The males are usually lazy, but when attacked by a strong foe, a male will protect its friends with no regard for its own safety.

braviary: represents the “eagle head” on his chimera form, and the idea of either a hippogriff or a griffin. braviary evolves extremely late in levels, so owning one is indicative of a lot of time put into training it. and i think laios would really enjoy searching for a shiny rufflet and training it for so long. braviary’s pokedex entries are extremely fitting for his personality, and they even have a connection to royalty, and sometimes even retaliate towards humans:

They fight for their friends without any thought about danger to themselves. One can carry a car while flying.

For the sake of its friends, this brave warrior of the sky will not stop battling, even if injured.

It's thought that people disturbed their habitats in the past, so Braviary banded together to fight back.

Known for its bravery and pride, this majestic Pokémon is often seen as a motif for various kinds of emblems.

hydreigon: not only a dragon, but one with multiple heads! i think laios would really personally resonate with the concept of the hydreigon line. because of this i can imagine himself dedicating himself to raising this “cool” dragon, not just because it’s cool, but because he understands “fighting with yourself/your desires”. on top of all of that, hydreigon have been known to destroy villages and resent human beings:

There are a slew of stories about villages that were destroyed by Hydreigon. It bites anything that moves.

It's said that Hydreigon grew ferocious because people in times long past loathed it, considering it to be evil incarnate and attacking it relentlessly.

It responds to movement by attacking. This scary, three-headed Pokémon devours everything in its path!

aegislash: it’s kensuke! this pokemon feels like it was basically made for laios, and reminds me of dungeon meshi in general. i mean, just look at these pokemon entries:

Apparently, it can detect the innate qualities of leadership. According to legend, whoever it recognizes is destined to become king.

Its potent spectral powers allow it to manipulate others. It once used its powers to force people and Pokémon to build a kingdom to its liking.

aegislash also reminds me of the winged lion, and is representative of not just laios’s eventual position as king, but also his “idealized” leadership as “dungeon master” over the course of the story.

now onto kabru!

as a trainer, in accordance to his position as laios's foil, i'd imagine that kabru would focus much less on pokemon battles and pokemon training. much like his lack of skill when it comes to exploring the dungeon, kabru is very people focused first, and i'd imagine his team is not very strong when it comes to battling... but i still wanted picks that would be indicative of who he is as a person. i'd like to think he acquired most of his pokemon not by the headstrong dedication towards exploration and catching that laios would have, but by making the right connections through trading and making bonds with other people. however, the few that he would have found on his own would be extremely special to him.

his pokemon

stufful: cute and unassuming on the surface, but secretly spiteful and aggressive underneath... it reminds me of kabru a lot. this is also the first in the start of a running theme of plush / toy-like pokemon i incorporated into his team, to represent his childhood being raised by misiril and treated like a "doll". kabru's childhood is something i find very few people take into consideration, but it really changes the way you look at his character...

A touch from anyone except a known friend sends it into a surging frenzy. It's an incredibly dangerous Pokémon. Its fluffy fur is a delight to pet, but carelessly reaching out to touch this Pokémon could result in painful retaliation.

mimikyu: another contribution to the doll-like theme of his team, but also is a pokemon that i feel is most representative of kabru's personality... someone who just wants to be loved and idolizes and takes after another, hiding behind a cute and nice mask, with an unending well of loneliness and a desire to be friends despite feeling like something evil. kabru talks about how he feels like a monster due to his lineage with misiril in his adventure's bible excerpt, and it's always struck powerfully with me. (as a result i can't stand when people make blue eyes jokes about him, lol.) he spends his entire adventure idolizing laios, just wanting to be his friend... (and secretly hating him.) to me, mimikyu is a perfect partner for kabru.

A lonely Pokémon, it conceals its terrifying appearance beneath an old rag so it can get closer to people and other Pokémon. It has taken damage and can no longer hold the head of its cloth disguise upright. For as long as it lives, Mimikyu will never forget its attacker.

mawile: meant to symbolize kabru's "two-faced"ness, and also just seemed like a type i thought he would enjoy. yet another cute looking pokemon to contribute to his team's theme, as well. this pokemon's dex entries mention how it uses it's cute facade to lure in other pokemon, and i thought that was fitting. i also thought it was nice that the jaws are actually horns, playing back into kabru's self-demonization.

Don't be taken in by this Pokémon's cute face—it's very dangerous. Mawile fools the foe into letting down its guard, then chomps down with its massive jaws. The steel jaws are really horns that have been transformed. It has two mouths. The big jaws on the back of its head can't taste anything, so that's the mouth it uses to eat foods it doesn't like.

espurr: a small and cute pokemon that reminded me of misiril, and kabru as a child. i also wanted to include it in order to make it clear that kabru wouldn't always care about fully evolving or training his pokemon, or using anything considered "strong" - since battling wouldn't be his expertise. this is yet another pokemon that seems docile but is secretly holding back dangerous power. i thought that he would resonate with this pokemon's blank and scary stare.

Though Espurr's expression never changes, behind that blank stare is an intense struggle to contain its devastating psychic power.

banette: next to mimikyu, i feel like this pokemon most accurately reflects kabru's past and personality. once again calling back to kabru's unhealthy childhood, and his treatment as an object. originally being a toy itself, banette holds strong grudges against those who have abandoned and wronged it.

An abandoned plush doll became this Pokémon. They are said to live in garbage dumps and wander about in search of the children that threw them away. It's a stuffed toy that was thrown away and became possessed, ever searching for the one who threw it away so it can exact its revenge. Resentment at being cast off made it spring into being. Some say that treating it well will satisfy it, and it will once more become a stuffed toy.

buneary: for his final team member, i knew from the outset that i wanted to include a buneary on his team. buneary is the only pokemon to start off with a base 0 happiness -- and as a result is an extremely hard pokemon to evolve! this also pairs well with the unique move of Frustration - a move that is more powerful the lower a pokemon's happiness. this seemed fitting. i wanted to keep it at a weak stage, but i also enjoy that it's a friendship evolution that he could slowly raise. i made this pokemon shiny partially because i just associate kabru with the color pink, but also because i thought it told a nice story. i liked the idea of kabru finding this equally battle-wary but extremely rare pokemon and slowly having it warm up to him over time, as he slowly learns to trust a "monster" he is somewhat wary of himself.

If both of Buneary's ears are rolled up, something is wrong with its body or mind. It's a sure sign the Pokémon is in need of care.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Rhaenys and Corlys anon back because I did not expected for my take to be so openly accepted. Thank you all for that!

I am going to say something that I think the majority of this fandom is afraid to voice out. I would honestly have made my very own post, but I am afraid of being attacked, so I decided on this ask instead.

A very big part — if not the basis — of the strange insistence that Daemon did not loved Rhaenyra but must have loved Laena is rooted in body shaming. Since Laena is described as slender, and Rhaenyra recorded as gaining weight after her pregnancies, people are not only unable to imagine a man genuinely loving a woman that does not fit their ideal standard of skinny, but they also see that rumoured change of her appearance as a reflection of her morals, even as a punishment.

(I say 'rumoured', because look at the official art or at the animated version of the Dance — Rhaenyra's waist is not slender, and while obviously voluptuous, she is not fat and she still looks absolutely gorgeous even after her pregnancies. So it was obviously an exaggeration by the maesters.)

Again I make a parallel with history — we are talking about an age where beauty of person equated beauty of character, and any slight deffect signified sin/unworthiness/bad morals. An age where, for example, blonde hair in a queen was ideal because it signified virginity, purity and it was associated with Virgin Mary. Rhaenyra's appearance being attacked is nothing else but mysoginistic propaganda.

(See how it is implied that men would not fight for her because her body changed after six pregnancies. Obviously that is a lie, since we know how many men raised at arms and supported her, and not even one of them made any remarks regarding her appearance.)

I have read a fanfiction centered on Laena and Daemon in which the very first remark made about Rhaenyra when she first appears is how she gained weight and therefore Daemon does not find her attractive at all. It's disgusting, demeaning, and screams internalized mysoginy. But women of this fandom are not ready for this conversation because they are far too busy self-inserting in their Laena and Nettles fantasies. That is why in these type of fics Rhaenyra is made to compare herself with them, to make her seem unworthy and undervalued, when that was never the case at all.

And not only that, but with Laena he is marrying a maiden, whereas with Rhaenyra he is marrying a mother of three. So if for some people that represents a turn-off, something that makes her less desirable, then they go and project their own distaste unto Daemon, claiming that he must have found her (and by extension her children) a burden as well. Even though the text gives us no proof about this, but every proof to the contrary.

It's a sensitive topic I would like to expand further because the way Rhaenyra's appearance is approached and discussed in this fandom is very sad, without any critical analysis or consideration. Basically, this is just to point out some things in the way I see them.

Hi there Queen (and sorry for this huge delay) ❤️

I have almost nothing else to add except a small observation on this "but with Laena he is marrying a maiden" -> I think this is something that they conclude because of everything you have said before. Because it goes with their idealised version of the "skinny, love worthy woman" and purity is another trait they had.

Laena was almost 23 at the time she married Daemon, and had been betrothed to another man for 10 years. A decade. She is also described as "bold" and someone who liked adventure.

The same fanfictions I have seen portraying Laena as completely innocent at 22 almost 23 - let's go back to the main asoiaf books and think back to how "innocent" women at this age were even if unmarried - will be portraying 14 year old Rhaenyra as completely loose, a deranged Lolita of sorts (who curiously turns chaste and boring the moment she married Daemon, at only 23, but details because while love changes a person Rhaenyra and Daemon DID NOT LOVE EACH OTHER OK?! 😡) using and abusing Poor Criston - who Alicent called out btw for being a creep - because let's look at it from his perspective :( (will no one think of the 30 something male?!) and being as wicked as Daemon if not more. Someone making Daemon darker and more deranged too, nothing like pure Laena and Nettles who brought out the best in him and saved him <3

I completely agree with you about Rhaenyra's appearance and I think it's especially sad when you see people, especially women, making Aegon II look like he hits the gym every day - let's look at official art of him for a sec - and Rhaenyra like she is Jabba the Hut.

PS: All of this is only about the asoiaf characters and books so kindly leave the lizard redacted show out of it.

[meteortrails]

saw someone somewhere say ‘idk what the story in cass becoming Batman would be’ and literally since that day I’ve thought about it. NON FUCKING STOP. I’m on an amusement park ride where the operator has not only refused to let me off but wholesale left the fucking building. bc fundamentally, Cass becoming Batman is a culmination of her choosing her own ideals and beliefs and rejecting those she was raised with, and it is also Cass learning new dimensions and strengths within herself. it’s both a logical next step and a transformation of what it means to be Batman, what Cass is capable of as a hero, what Cass is capable of as a PERSON.

to tackle this from one angle to begin with: to be Batman is to be the lynchpin of Gotham’s vigilante and crime scene. to be Batman is to be the sun around which everything else orbits, the gravity well that distorts everyone else’s behavior. you are responsible for both Gotham as whole, and wrangling/keeping tabs on/assembling all the personalities therein. Cass is someone who is so fiercely independent that I think this could become a really fun point of conflict in her Batman run! she’s only ever been a member of the team or an independent agent, she’s never been RUNNING HERD on everyone else.

how does her relationship with Barbara and her siblings change as a result of these shifting roles? how does she grow into these new responsibilities?? these are things that take her out of her reliable comfort zone of martial ability and explore the way her strengths translate into different arenas; her ability to read body language is something that will both serve her well and trip her up as she learns the shape of her new role (think that one episode of Wayne family adventures - you can see what people are feeling, that doesn’t mean you know how best to react to it). this all also allows a reinforcement of a fundamental truth: Cass’s strength and value both as a person and as Batman has so little to do with her physical capabilities and everything to do with her strength of conviction and commitment to doing good.

now, building off of that and also coming in from a different angle: as Cass becomes Batman, her relationship not only with her siblings will change, but with the roles that they inhabit. she’s an adult who is discovering new depths of what she is capable of and prepared to be responsible for - how does this shape her relationship with the mantle of Robin? it’s something that could be a really interesting later plot point, is her finding that connection that Bruce did to the children of Gotham, and finding her feet as a mentor and a guardian to the next generation. show me Cass rediscovering the ways in which her guardians failed her through her attempts to do right by those she has tasked herself to take care of. show me Cass trying to set these new generations free of the cycles of violence that have defined her life, even as she herself struggles to even find self worth outside of them.

and to look at that from yet another angle, there is an incredibly poignant story here about Cass finding herself as she takes on the symbol that she chose and makes it her own. she rejected the ideals she was raised with because she realized that she, as a person, values human life above all else. she choose the symbol of the bat because it reflected those ideals, and in doing so she chose Bruce as her father, and his family and ideals as the ones she will let hold sway in her life. her becoming Batman would be a commitment to that choice and to her core values, and I think any storyline worth it’s salt would at least on some level be about Cass seeing and learning to believe that the traits she values so much in Batman are things that are intrinsic to who she is as a person. she doesn’t need to contort herself to fit other’s expectations of what Batman should do or act like or look like or be good at, she just needs to be her, because Cass already is and was always going to be an embodiment of exactly what the Bat symbolizes. she doesn’t need to sacrifice herself to be perfect! she just needs to be herself!!! that’s valuable enough all on its own!!!!!

and if all of that wasn’t enough to convince you on its own, any story about Cass acting as a bat is a continuation of the idea that like. everyone who has ever been even a little bit important to you has shaped you, whether you liked them and wanted them to or not. and you’ll never truly escape that influence, but that doesn’t mean you’re a slave to it either. so many people have tried to twist Cass to their agendas, but none of them can ever change or touch who she is as a person. once you acknowledge the impact someone has had on you, you also have the power to respond to and determine the shape of that impact, and Cass is such a beautiful example of that! David Cain and lady shiva may have raised her and shaped her, but she’s her own person, and she gets to decide what of that influence she takes with her going forward bc at the end of the day she’s the master of her own life!! how is that not some of the coolest shit you’ve EVER HEARD.

anyways. in conclusion. there’s all KINDS of story folded into the idea of Cass becoming Batman, she’s so fucking amazing. can someone please let me off the carnival ride now.

[skelaxo]

I’ll do a separate post about Charles Eyler and aromanticism because that is always on my mind but I’m having fresh thoughts about femininity and his character around that but it’ll be kinda long so elaboration under the cut >:)

(Note: I’ll still be using he/him since those are his canonical pronouns and he also is canonically genderfluid so this isn’t really a transfemme headcanon, more he wants to present more femme/possibly some level of dysphoria)

I get the impression Charles wants to present more femme but due to a lot of circumstances he’s not able to—

For one he presents his online self femininely with the username “Charlotte” and using a pfp of her. Many people sort of “test out” gender expression online with different names or pronouns before ever coming out irl, so I think Charles reflects this experience. In addition, he projects his insecurities of not living up to his online persona onto Vincent, assuming he is disappointed coming face to face with someone who didn’t match themselves online saying

“Its you who should be disappointed in me, mr C”

“Charlotte turned out to be Charles, whoops”

“Bet you wanted to see the girl of your dreams”

When Vincent himself says “names and bodies dont matter”

But then again, irl he wouldn’t feel comfortable with completely free gender expression because of all the Mother and Scarlett stuff— “youre a good girl” isnt so gender affirming when its in the context of your mother convinced youre her aborted daughter who’s way more successful than you are and is kinda messing up your whole mental state.

Ok now this is somewhat of a stretch but evidence nonetheless—

Charlotte. All the Charlottes. Trust me on this one. So Charlotte is Charles’ OC/self insert/persona type deal. Perfect protagonist and all that fun stuff. Projection of an ideal Charles. Scarlett. Also Charles. Ideal Charles projected in a fucked up way. So. Here’s where I’m going with this. Charles=Scarlett who=Charlotte more specifically ep1/2 Charlotte who can be considered transfemme coded mostly due to the scene she and Frei look over memories in the mirror room, specifically the one titled “Femininity”

And I’ll just paraphrase it but young Charlotte was unconfident in her femininity feeling unsuited for feminine things until Aiden encourages her to embrace it anyways and feel comfortable in it—

Charles=Scarlett=Charlotte=transfemme ITS A CONNECTION OK.

If Charles writes the story of the perfect protagonist in which the protag is an idealized self and she is living the same experience of not being able go express femininity YEAH CHARLES IS GONNA GIVE HER THE HAPPY CONCLUSION HE DIDNT ok there’s some plot holes in that ep2 is not exactly derivative of Charles’ writing buy leg me have this

There wasnt a convenient spot to slip these in but also some ep3 false realm stuff leans into gender non conformity with 1. Evidence Charles will sometimes pick a femme student vessel over Vincent and 2. Q84 rejecting traditional femininity which is opposite of this whole post but Q84 is that “what I never could be” for Charles WHICH IS A WHOLE OTHER RAMBLE ON ITS OWN so it makes sense the script is flipped here

[kattythingz]

You are so real for ace Lust, I totally see it even with her mangahood presentation where she still doesn’t really do the whole sexual lust thing. She’ll use others’ against them, sure, but she never does anything or goes out of her way to do anything, and she’s definitely more bloodlust than anything else. I’m only mildly familiar with 03 Lust and I could be wrong since I’ve only seen snippets, but isn’t she prone to wandering? It would tie her in well with the concept of wanderlust, I think.

Also, it is curious to wonder about how the other homunculi would’ve handled sharing a body Greedling style. Or if they even could.

Less on the wandering and moreso that she's a lone spirit with lots of self-reflection to do on her own. But I can definitely see her having some manner of wanderlust!!! In an ideal au where she lives and gets to be real friends with Ed, I imagine they travel together, hehe.

And, yeah, right??? (In terms of fmab) Sloth is easily too lazy to even bother. Pride would be too overwhelming I think and so "sharing" is out of the question; whatever soul he possesses is gone immediately. Gluttony is the reverse in which he isn't aware enough as his own person to be possessing others. Wrath and Envy could maybe manage something.

[pricechecktranslations]

I'm sorry and I know that it's a rather stupid question but what do you think about the HC that behemo is trans? I mean I saw a lot of people talking about it because levia is "the perfect version of himself" and she's a woman, and I know that it doesn't means that behemo is trans or something but I'm just curious, or I'm just missing the point of something

Well, that sort of depends on how you interpret that comment about Levia.

Before the Heavenly novel, Behemo referred to himself as being a man twice, and uses male pronouns (the one instance where he doesn't, he is explicitly pretending to be a woman to get around the cultural barriers surrounding cross-dressing in Jakoku, and immediately switches back to male pronouns once his identity is revealed).

The comment about Levia could be a reflection of how strict gender roles are in the culture he grew up in--not that he sought to become a woman, but that in his mind becoming a woman was the only way he could be himself (ie, feminine presenting) without facing harsh social judgment for it. --However, that's only one way to interpret that line, and in hindsight it feels a bit flimsy to me.

I think a person who was born a man saying that his "ideal self" is a woman, as a statement, is very suggestive of being trans. Especially because, in context of the novel, "ideal self" as a term is used frequently to refer to your "true identity", as it were--the person you want to be outside of the body you were born with (Feng, notably, is a human as a spirit, despite physically being a tiger when alive, and Michaela keeps up her identity from the Third Period rather than going back to her Second Period self like Elluka/Levia does). Behemo being trans, or at least having a complicated gender identity, fits with those themes of the novel--that one's identity can be fluid and changing, or even just different from the body you were born into.

I personally still use he/him pronouns when discussing him just because he does use male pronouns in-text. Perhaps his identity is such that he wishes he could be a woman, but for whatever reason doesn't want to transition fully? A part of him is still "in the closet", as it were? Or he just uses male pronouns because he's more comfortable that way?

I don't know what mothy specifically intended the audience to come away with. The culture surrounding gender and cross-dressing is very different in Japan, and it's a subject I only have surface-level knowledge on.