#with all the responsibility to try to live up to expectations he couldn't that everybody told him he couldn't while handling the weight o

[witchybitchycrybaby]

And they were neighbors...

Benjicot Blackwood x modern!fem!Bracken!reader

Warnings: none, it's just pure fluff, modern au

Words: 1,3k

✨✨✨

Benjicot Blackwood groaned as his alarm buzzed on the nightstand, effectively interrupting his sleep. He slapped it off and lay back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His thoughts, as usual, drifted to his best friend, his next-door neighbor, his... whatever you were to him. The Bracken girl, on top of that.

His parents would probably go bananas if they knew he had feelings for you.

Sure, your families couldn't stand each other, everybody in your small neighborhood knew that, but for Benji that war no longer mattered when it came to you. He thought about the way you looked at him, the way you always had an answer whenever he said something unhinged, and that smile… oh, that smile. He was whipped, completely and utterly.

How you managed to get so deep under his skin was beyond his understanding.

He'd had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. He never said a word about it before, though. He liked being your friend and he was afraid of ruining your relationship. The thought of you not reciprocating his feelings was always in the back of his head, so he simply kept quiet.

Today, however... Oh, screw it, it was high time to take the risk.

Benji rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. With his hair tousled on the pillow, eyes still half-closed, and a lazy smirk on his lips, he snapped a picture. He looked exactly how he wanted to feel: confident, yet charming. Perfect. He added a caption: "So, what’s it like living next to the most handsome guy ever?"

With a deep breath, he hit send. He quickly tossed the phone away as if it burned him. You two were used to each others smartass remarks, but flirting was an entirely different level. Seconds felt like hours, and he started to question his impulsiveness. What if you didn't get the hint? What if you thought hr was being weird? What if you didn't respond, choosing to ignore him? His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind creating the worst-case scenarios wasn't helping at all.

Finally, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, expecting the worst. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message.

"No idea. I'm pretty sure there's no one in our neighborhood that matches the description."

Benji's heart raced as he read your reply. It was good, really good even. You didn't make fun of him, you just took the chellange. He could work with that. His finger hovered above the screen, trying to come up with a response, when another message from you popped up.

This time, it was a picture. You were also still in bed, your hair a mess, eyes half-closed, looking even sleepier than him. You were clutching a pillow with a playful smile on your lips. His breath hitched in his throat. You were stunning.

"I figured I'd return the favor," you texted then. He grinned as his heart did a little flip.

"Cute," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. "But I still look better."

"In your dreams, Blackwood."

"You are in my dreams, Bracken."

There was a pause before you texted back: "Cheesy much?"

"For you? Always."

He stopped for a second. Biting his lip, he thought of doing something riskier. The only thing he was worried about was your reaction.

"Speaking of dreams," he started again after a minute. "I dreamt I stole your pillow. I guess mine's just not as comfy."

There it was. He sent it. And you read it.

There was a brief pause before you answered, but when you did, relief poured over him

"Of course you'd want my pillow, my bed is generally way better, you know. It's not my fault you can't get some decent pillows."

"Nah, it's just the pillow. I've got the coziest setup, Bracken. You'd fall asleep in seconds."

"You're delusional," you texted, and he could imagine you laughing in your room. "I'd show you real cozy, but my bed is off-limits to annoying neighbors."

"I think you meant 'annoyingly charming'", he typed, his smile growing wider. "Admit it, Bracken, you'd let me join you if I asked nicely."

Your reply came quickly, "If you weren't so annoying, maybe, I'd have to think about."

This was it, the opening he was waiting for. Benji took a deep breath and went for it. "Alright, I promise to be on my best behavior. Now, would you be so kind, my lady, and open your window?"

That threw you off a bit. "Why?" You texted, your eyebrows furrowed.

Only seconds after you sent your message, you heard a soft rustling outside. Moving to the window, you pulled back the curtain to see Benji, climbing up to your window with a mischievous grin. Your eyes widened in shock at the sight.

"What the hell, Benji?" you whisper-shouted, quickly opening the window.

"Good morning to you too, y/n," he whispered back, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "Are you crazy? If my parents find out you're here, they'll kill you. And then my dad will resurrect you just to kill you again."

Benji chuckled softly. "They'd have to catch me first. Now, are you going to help me in, or are you going to let me fall and have my ghost haunt you for the rest of your life?"

"You're insane", you said but grabbed his arm and helped him climb into your room. He landed softly on your carpet, glancing around your room. "Cozy," he said, sitting on your bed and bouncing slightly on the mattress.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"

He stretched out on your bed, hands behind his head. "Testing the coziness, of course. You did say your bed was better, remember?"

You shook your head, sitting next to him. "You know, you could've just walk through the front door? Like a normal human being, Benji. Climbing through my window is a bit... dramatic."

Benji turned to look at you. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I needed to make sure I had your full attention."

You sighed, but there was no hiding the smile that appeared at your lips. "You've got it. Now what?"

He sat up, closer to you now, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by something more serious. "I like you, Bracken. A lot. More than a friend should like a friend. And I get it, our families, the whole feud thing... but I don't care about any of that when it comes to you. I just... I needed to tell you."

You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock and surprise. You though your mind glitched, trying to process his words. He looked so vulnerable now that he had exposed himself and his feelings. "Benji, I..."

But before you could say something more, he cut you off with a nervous laugh. "I know, it's crazy. I just... I needed to tell you."

Your hand reached out and grabbed his. You gave it a soft squeeze and intertwined your fingers. "No, it's not crazy. Actually... To be completely honest, I feel the same way too."

"You-you do?" He stuttered.

"Yeah. I guess I was just scared to say anything because of our families and all that. But... I’m glad you did."

A slow smile spread across his face, lightening it up. "Me too."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. "So, does this mean I get to stay? Not just for the comfy bed, I mean."

You laughed, the sound filling the room. Oh, he could listen to it for eternity. "Yes, Benji. You get to stay."

He grinned, closing the distance between you. "Good," he whispered, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was brief but for Benji it was enough.

For now.

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

In my opinion

There is no denying that House loves Cuddy. It's obvious, everybody knows it, there's no debate. Cuddy also loves House, again, obvious, no debate. But the way that Cuddy loves House is not the same as the way that Wilson does.

Cuddy acknowledges Houses issues, and she loves him in spite of them. She sees the worst parts of him, the "undesirable" parts of House, and she chooses to look beyond them. She sees the man that he is aside from those things, and she makes the conscious choice to coexist with those parts of him in exchange for being together with the parts that she loves. An example would be House's jealousy. She acknowledges that he can be extremely jealous, and she agrees to look past it because he's also very loving and protective. That's why when House continues to make mistakes, she becomes more and more disappointed. Because she sees a man who she believes could do better, falling back into his "old ways." She will try to convince herself that it's not a surprise when he does "bad" things, and she tries to convince herself that she doesn't need him to change, but the truth is that she does. Cuddy is a mother. She is a very mature, professional woman, and she wants to settle down. House, as he exists in the show, would not be able to live up to par with those expectations. I'm not saying he couldn't be a great dad to Rachel, or that he wouldn't love Cuddy, but he would realistically would not be able to act the way she needs and deserves for the rest of their lives. And when he does inevitably do something destructive, she will struggle to deal with it. Because she sees House as someone split down two sides, the "good" side, and the "bad" side, and she will expect him to focus on the "good" side, so when House does something wrong, it will feel like a personal attack, because she will see it as him not fighting hard enough to not give in to his "bad" side for her. And that's not to say anything bad about Cuddy, because the fact that she needs somebody who is the type of person that House just can not realistically be is neither of their faults. But I believe that House fully understands all of this. He is crumbling under the pressure of living up to Cuddy's expectations. He is constantly trying to fight his "bad" side so that he can be what she needs. But in reality, he is not two separate parts. There is no "good" and "bad" House. They are one in the same. With her, he has to fight to be what she needs. He has to fight to change. So when stressful things happen, his fight or flight response kicks in, and he runs. Because he's scared. He's scared that he is going to do something that will disappoint her. He is scared he won't live up to her expectations. With Cuddy, he has to sacrifice parts of himself to attempt to be who she needs. And it's just not sustainable. You can't live like that forever. All the good becomes overshadowed by constant anxiety and stress. It leads to House's mental health plummeting because he starts to hate himself for not being able to get rid of that "bad side." And so when Cuddy needs him during stressful times, he can't bring himself to be there for her fully, because he is so focused on the "good" side of him coming out, that he starts to lose himself.

With Wilson, however, it is basically the exact opposite. Wilson doesn't see two different sides of House. He sees one person who is incredibly multifaceted. He recognizes those "undesirable" parts of House, and he loves them just the same as he loves the "good" parts. Because he sees no divide. When House does things that are hurtful, he still calls him out, but he doesn't see it as a personal failure. He sees it as just a part of House. Like yeah, he'll insult your fatal illness, but he'll shoot some random guy with a spud gun for insulting you. Where as Cuddy would see those as two separate, distinct sides, Wilson sees those as a conjoined whole. He doesn't love House in spite of his issues. He loves House because of his issues. Because House's struggles are a part of what makes House who he is. So Wilson can fight with him and be mad at him and hurt him, but he doesn't expect House to throw away or "overcome" parts of himself. He would love for House to give up drugs, but he doesn't expect House to give up his addictive tendencies. There's a balance, and it's all an equal part of House. And so because of this, when House and Wilson are put in stressful situations, House doesn't feel like he has to run. He feels safe. Because he knows even if he says something wrong, and even if he upsets Wilson, Wilson is not going to leave him. Wilson does not have these high expectations for him that he feels like he is being forced to fill. And so he can focus on genuinely being in the moment and being there for Wilson because he is not fighting with himself, and he is not scared. He has trust in Wilson and enough trust in their relationship to know that they will work things out. I think the fact that they have very similar issues also helps a lot. He can be mean to Wilson and lash out, and Wilson will recognize that House is doing that because he is scared and because he loves him. In return, Wilson can also insult House and make fun of him because he's just as destructive. They meet each other on the same level because they are equals. House does not feel like Cuddy's equal. He feels like she is better than him, and he can't be himself with her. Him and Wilson know each other as well as they know themselves, and they're not constantly making the other feel like there are high expectations they have to fight to reach in order to love each other or be "worthy" of each other. They're just House and Wilson.

But I have no idea what I'm talking about, so take this with a grain of salt.

[satans--muse]

i set up my camera, pinch my left nipple and play the most disgusting porn i could find online on my tv. my hand traveled in between my legs as i try turning myself on. ugh i don't wanna do it right now but not like i have a choice, sluts can't be choosers. so i try my best to get horny. let's just get over with it already.

i finally open the porn web and turn the camera on. i was only wearing a mini school skirt with no undies. i tried my best to fake a smile as i welcome the viewers. my eyes stuck at the rising digits before i see the comments: "hurry up, slut. fuck yourself" "c'mon don't make us wait" "yeah? is the little whore finally back after a week?" "i wish i could abuse her tight holes right now"

i sigh realizing I'd never mean anything more than a set of holes for them to get off to. putting on my doll face i say "welcome everybody. i don't intend to make y'all wait for long."

i pinch the same nipple and lift my tiny skirt, revealing my dry holes. i spit on my fingers before rubbing them against my cunt. i hum, trying to make it look like i wanted it until i read a particular comment that said "awe so dry? should i come over to warm up your holes? i think i should." i frown yet decide to ignore it. whoever it is, they probably don't mean it, i tell myself.

but that was only until i hear footsteps in my apartments. my head jerks towards the door of my bedroom, while my fingers continued anxiously and aggressively pumping in and out of my pussy. an audible gasp excapes my lips as the door pushed open, revealing my ex boyfriend. no, it can't be.

"what the fuck!?" i glance at the live chat before looking at him again. i saw him take his gun out and shoot at the wall. shit he looked mad.

with a flinch I covered my ears with my hands involuntarily. i saw him shut my laptop and throw my camera away and before i could even realize it he was forcing me down to gag on his familiar cock. "you are actually a whore, aren't you? selling yourself now that you lost the pocket money i used to give huh?" he wasn't expecting a response, not with his big hands choking me on his cock. i slap his thighs, trying to tell him that i couldn't breath but the only reaction i could get out of him was his twitching cock. he finally pushed me away, on the bed and tore the little skirt apart as i cried out in horror "please. i don't want this." i try convincing him to stop but he was only focused on my pussy, i doubted he even realized i was saying something. with his index and middle fingers of both hands he painfully pushed my vulva lips apart before shoving three of his fingers in. "cry." he ordered. i was already on the verge of tears as they finally spill. i saw his cock harden as soon as i sobbed.

he forced three orgasms out of me in almost 20 minutes, and my once dry pussy was now soaked and dripping. he reminded me of who i actually was. a whore. his whore. i wasn't even resisting any longer, knowing it was no use and he was too big and strong for me to handle.

the next thing i remember is waking up with something dripping from in between my legs, it took me a few moments to recover the memories of last night. fuck i definitely passed out last night. what happened after that!? i had no idea until i saw the amount of semen dripping out of my pussy. that can't be one man's doing, there were multiple. who were they? I'd never know cause he was gone after getting what he was here for. all i could do was think who it could have been, his friends? my dad or brother? my co-workers? his co-workers? I'd never know.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

how does the volturi guard react when human mate asks for them to turn her ??

trying to dust off the old headcanon muscles ;) send me some volturi, wolfpack or letterkenny requests ;D

ALEC:

he knew it was coming

he couldn't keep a human in volterra forever, not only was it dangerous being around all the other vampires all the time, but you were basically locked in your bedroom when he was away

it was like locking the most beautiful art behind a door and not letting anyone see it

it was a crime for you to be lonely

but

he liked that you were his, and his alone

your time was his, your protection his, and your love was all his

his worry was that you'd have an ability aro would want, and be expected to join the guard

but if that was the case aro may very well send you out alone, or worse, with demetri

but at the end of the day he needed to spend forever with you, he wouldn't want to live in a world without you in it

so he began to plan the date

DEMETRI:

he was just excited to spend the rest of eternity with you

realistically he knew this day was coming sooner rather than later as you'd lived in the castle for almost a year and aro was starting to side eye demetri about it

he was excited, wondering what you'd be like & who you'd grow into

"my beautiful petal, an eternity with you will still never be enough,"

he would be happily chatting about when and where

he would be the one to turn you of course, his flower, his responsibility

being the pest that he is, the whole talk would have him so so excited, and he'd be pinning you against the wall, whispering about how he'll miss having strength over you

he'd kiss you all over, gently right over the veins in your neck

licking his lips at the idea of the games you could play when you were a newborn

FELIX:

there is a large part of him that would be disappointed that you didn't change your mind

he thought of himself as the evil in your life, the shadow to your light

and now you wanted to become like him

he never, ever thought of himself as a monster before he met you, so soft & sweet & kind

but he'd been selfish - and it was too late to let you go now, aro would never let you live in peace now

"of course, puppet, anything for you,"

and he meant it, but he wish, he wished, he had the strength to leave you alone when you'd met

he felt like he'd plucked a flower right out of a garden instead of letting it grow

but... he loved you

he loved you so so much and spending forever with you would be a blissful dream

JANE:

she was genuinely relieved

she loved you, but she didn't really like humans, like at all

and now she could feel better knowing it was your idea and not hers

she wanted you to be powerful with her

wanted you to stand tall next to her while you & her traveled the world for aro, keeping everybody in line

aro already agreed to letting you team up with the twins the moment you were ready

having something to hold over jane was important, you know, her strength was legendary

[ahaura]

Abby Martin tweeted (Nov. 7) a link to an interview she did with an former IOF soldier, Eran Efrati, posted in 2017. He describes the standard brutality of the IOF and how the soldiers enforce the apartheid state—protecting settlers; the standard practice of execution by both the IOF and police; the systematic dehumanization of Palestinians; the role and treatment of Arab Jews in the Israeli state; and Palestinian resistance.

Some excerpts:

"I didn't feel like I was protecting anyone, I didn't feel like I was keeping anyone safe. I feel like I'm terrorizing people. [...] I felt like I was the terrorist. And my job was literally to scare people so they cannot think about acting against the Israeli settlers or the Israeli military. That was actually our defined mission. [...] To instill fear in the hearts of Palestinians [...] and that's exactly what we did."

"At the age of 15-16, I began being almost obsessed with trying to understand the Nazi side in the Holocaust. Not only to hear the stories of the Jewish victims and any other victims of the Holocaust, but to try and understand how can a Nazi soldier get up in the morning, give his kids a kiss, a wife a hug and go out to the camps and do his job. I just couldn't understand it. And when I got into the occupied territories, for the first time I understood how there can be a contradiction inside yourself. As a human being you could do your job and be one person at home—be a loving, caring boyfriend or a son or a brother—and at the same time hold people under a regime so oppressive that people are dying not from only your bullets but the amount of calories being entered into their territory like in Gaza, from depression or sickness. [...]"

"Israel is selling the idea that the soldiers are more important than anything, the soldiers are more important than the lives of Palestinians—not just the life of soldiers, but identity, security, feelings—are more important than Palestinian life."

"Israelis are saying in a very clear voice [...] not only will we oppress Palestinians and do whatever we want, but in a very specific way of saying [...] whatever soldiers do in the occupied territories are right. Whatever we're doing is the correct thing."

AM: I want you to talk specifically about the culture within the Israeli military that fosters anti-Arab sentiment, and racism, essentially. EE: I think the system is not only inside the military, [...] that's actually what being an Israeli means. Growing up in the Israeli educational department, you understand that all the Arabs hate you, that they're actually in a way the continuation of the Biblical amalek, or Hitler, or that everybody there want to throw you into the sea. This is what you're growing up with and you really believe in that. [...] Going in the military, you're already so full of hate and fear at the same time that you don't need much to be very aggressive, violent, and racist toward Palestinians. They see the Palestinian women and the Palestinian men as subhuman. The occupied territories are like an ex-territory, when those human beings are not considered human beings."

(In response to attacks on Israeli soldiers) "[...] I learned [...] that if you will not respect existence, you can expect resistance. And this is how people resist. Israel as a state likes to use the idea that Palestinians only understand force, or power, but the truth of the matter is that Israelis only understand power and force. Every other attempt from Palestinians to try and negotiation this situation in a diplomatic way was countered by more attacks, more oppression, and more occupation, more stealing of the land, more destroying of homes, more settlements being built. We decided to call going into the U.N. 'diplomatic terrorism,' and to go into the ICC 'international terrorism.' We basically describe every form of resistance as terrorism because the sole idea of the occupation is not to be safe; the sole idea is to create an ethnically cleansed piece of land only for Jewish people—with Palestinian workers, of course some Palestinians can stay and do stuff for us—but this is our land. What people maybe don't understand is that Israel is creating the conditions in to the situation of constantly having to 'protect' yourself. We're creating this situation by oppressing millions of people [...] [until] they have no other choice but to resist."

"[...] the truth is that Israel do not hear the diplomacy, Israel do not hear the call of the Palestinians for equality. What we are seeing Palestine is what a lot of people like to describe as the most complicated political situation of our time [but] what is probably the most simple political situation of our time. It's a situation about equality."

AM: Would you say that you support the right of Palestinians to fight their occupiers? EE: Absolutely. I support the right of every human being under an oppressive military rule to resist this rule by any means possible. I do not believe Israel has a right to occupy millions of human beings without every decent human simple basic rights for their name. And I do not believe that Israel will change on its own. At no point in history there was a state or a power that had the power and control over other human beings and benefit from it and just decide to let go of this power on its own. It was always forced on them by the resistance of the people underneath them. All the intervention of other forces around the world. And unfortunately, as I do support the Palestinian right to resist, in any way, I do not believe that their resistance is enough. I do believe that the rest of the world has to interfere. And what's going on in Palestine—there's nothing else we can do except for giving all the Palestinians equal rights and starting a new state, a new equality system for all human beings on the ground."

[teeth2go]

Keep Your Mask On - I can see through it

they/them!MC x Leander

Warnings: Rated T. Mild mind-games. Maybe fluffy??? It's Leander so it could be worse. Word Count: 3.5k Word Density: mc, leander, hand, down, eyes, waiting.

What if a shy and somewhat manipulative MC beat Leander at his own game? Everybody is a winner.

It had already been a few weeks since Leander first held MC's cursed hands in his own. It was actually the first time anyone held MC's hands without immediately try to kill them.

Despite the initial shock of the experience, MC was slowly growing accustomed it. At the end of most days, the two of them would sit and chat in one of the booths at the Wet Wick, hands linked for few precious minutes.

MC had gotten into the habit of waiting around for him if they returned home before he did. "Home" being the same room Leander had gifted them the key to. They found a couple of interesting things in the bedside drawers, confirming some of the public rumors of his private escapades. Aside from the ones he freely admitted to of his own volition.

So there they were, again, waiting for their personal playboy as dusk crept up on the dingy street. They had begun helping out the bartender with small tasks instead of simply taking up space whilst waiting. This awarded the bartender a much appreciated opportunity to step away and deal with other things that kept her business in working order. It never hurt to be on good terms with your landlord. Even if you do live in a dive-bar.

The bar itself, counter and stools, served as a barrier between them and the many strangers who passed through the front door each night. People almost always traveled in groups after nightfall, and those groups very quickly added up into sizeable crowds that MC found overwhelming.

Sometimes a curious single from said crowds would venture up to MC and try their luck, only to consistently be turned down. Aside from the obvious issue of their hands, the casual advancements only reminded them more and more of what they were really craving, and of who they were waiting for.

In spite of his frequent innuendos and constant flirting, Leander's perpetual bashfulness remained one of their favorite cracks in his mask. MC was a glutton for the butterflies it gave them.

The night was slow, or about as slow as it ever got around there. Currently there were no brawls, which was always a boon.

MC helped themself to sampling some of the more exclusive spirits and enjoyed the warm buzz it created. They listened to nothing in particular as they focused only on slowly drying off the freshly washed wine glasses. The drowning chatter of the greater room faded out to an incomprehensible white noise.

The bar maids were responsible for serving the customers, so MC was safe to hide behind the counter and look unapproachable, a convenience for collecting their thoughts.

They thought mostly about Leander and the obvious masks he wore every day. They used to wonder where the mask began and his authenticity ended. It didn't take long for MC to figure out that he was indeed a performance artist, and the performances were part of the package deal. Not unlike the bright markings on a venomous animal.

MC also wasn't oblivious to the suspicious second life he led with the Blood Hounds. He had several roles to fill, and in order to balance it all without revealing his full hand, he donned those masks to survive. A quote came to mind. Something about "Nothing personal, it's just business."

MC understood the mentality but they wanted be part of his personal motives, not just business. As sure as fondness was growing between them, MC would have been a complete fool to expect him to actually lower his guard for simply nothing in exchange. Crossing his boundaries by simply expecting special treatment was not an option. They were going to meet him halfway, but that couldn't happen if neither of them stepped forward.

The next inevitable step in their relationship was gnawing on MC's mind. The cause of their hesitations, the whole reason they were over-thinking where they stood with him. It was something he'd humorously offered several times, and they absolutely did want to take him up on it, but the right conversation needed to happen first.

They felt his presence before his fingertips made contact with their shoulder. It didn't startle them, but it did manage to shake them out of their thoughts.

"Hello, Eridia to (MC)? Anyone home?" Leander called out to them. He must have been trying to get their attention while they were ignoring the noise of the livening building.

He was completely leaned over the top of the bar, arms reached out across the distance, knees balanced on the bar stools. He looked ridiculous. Whatever Blood Hounds had come in with him were already dispersed to their tables and corners of interest, likely somewhat embarrassed by their leader's unprofessional display. MC wouldn't be surprised if Leander had made a beeline for the bar as soon as he spotted them. Again.

His appearance indicated that he had been dragged around the city all day, no doubt wrapped up in his odd jobs and strange connections. There was a very fine layer of dust on his clothes, dulling the shine of his leathers. He looked like he needed a stiff a drink. He began making his way around the bar to help himself.

"Sorry. I was spacing out." MC finally replied.

Leander paused for a moment, looking them up and down, then at the random assortment of mostly full bottles and used shot glasses still sitting out.

"You started without me?" He smirked but his eyes barely made any effort to meet his lips halfway. MC cleared their throat. It used to unnerve them, initially thinking it was an insincere expression at worst, or devastating fatigue at best, but they had spent enough time with him now to recognize a curse when they saw one.

Something about Leander's magic was probably killing him in a way that MC did not yet fully understand. Many signs had been pointing to this conclusion since the very first day they met him.

There was something inside of Leander that was slowly poisoning him, like a silent gas leak in an empty house. It was another reason he wore those metaphorical masks, to cover whatever was slowly rotting his soul away. As much as MC was morbidly curious, the answers to those specific questions could wait. It wasn't worth lighting a match over. Yet.

"Having fun?" He slid past them, using his hand to briefly maneuver their waist out of his way. The touch returned their attention to the moment.

"Mhm, just keeping busy," MC murmured. The glass they were holding was polished perfectly. They wobbled a little, crossing the short aisle and reached up on their toes to slide it into the correct shelf along the wall.

"You know, you don't have to do all of that." Leander said, side-eying their flawed coordination. He'd finished procuring his own drink and flashed his signature smile, instantly filling the closed space with warmth.

MC shuffled back to their spot, leaning heavily against the edge of the sink and selected the next wet glass to work on.

"You really helped yourself to the inventory this time, didn't you?" He chuckled but MC didn't miss the inflection in his tone. Something of a friendly warning.

"Only a few samples. With permission of course," they smiled back at him and waited for his reaction from under their eyelashes.

Instead, he sipped his drink slowly, gazing out at the commotions behind MC. They watched the dark liquid slip past his lips, disappearing into his perfect mouth. MC moved forward to put the next glass away, but was distracted by a stray droplet that was sliding down his chin. They nearly missed their step and began veering to the side.

Leander deftly hooked his arm forward and caught them, allowing MC to recenter their balance. He retracted his arm and bemusedly allowed them to continue on their way, wiping the droplet away with his knuckles.

They completed the task again, and then again. Each time they turned away from the wall of glasses and bottles, they caught Leander moving his eyes away from their direction. He was definitely watching when they stretched up to reach the shelves. MC raised him an inquisitive eyebrow, which earned them a friendly wink. They rolled their eyes, but that restless thought was growing louder.

"I think it's safe to assume you've been down here for a while." He gestured to their sampling. "Hopefully I didn't keep you waiting too long." MC felt their cheeks become a bit warmer and hoped that the blush blended inconspicuously with the one they already had from their buzz.

"Not at all. In fact, I really don't mind helping the bartender while I'm down here."

"Ah, that's very noble of you, but…" he leaned back against the counter directly across from MC, now partially blocking the cabinet. "You don't owe her anything, right?"

MC internally rolled their eyes. They knew exactly where that lecture was going. The Cost of Things in Eridia. Perhaps this was his way of reminding them of their own unspecified outstanding-balance.

That inevitable step forward was about to be taken, but MC wanted to be the first to move. There was something they wanted from him, but they need to ensure that is did not come with a price tag.

"Not exactly, but since we're on the topic, I have found myself indebted to a... friend." They smirked at down at the slow and methodical circles of the rag as they dried the last wine glass, circumventing his prepared lecture.

"Oh?" he sounded genuinely curious, eyes drawn to the gentle movements of their bandaged hands. He watched they way they delicately held the stem of the glass, turning it over in the light, looking for imperfections.

"Promise not to tell anyone but…" They approached the cabinet. He barely stepped aside for them to set it into place. "It's a guy. He's been so helpful and kind to me, but he hasn't asked for much in return," they spoke slowly, waiting for Leander's jealously to take the bait.

"So I've been thinking about how nothing in this life is free, you know? Eventually, I am going to have to pay him back. Even you tell me that nothing is free in Eridia." They pointed out.

Leander wasn't smiling anymore. He leaned forward to hear them better through the noise of the establishment. MC set their rag down and turned to face him, resting their hip against the counter, and regarded him as he became quite serious.

"…you haven't made some kind of deal with this guy yet, have you?" His brow creased ever so slightly. "If you need help, you know I'm here for you, right?" His free hand came to rest at their hip, anxiously ensuring that they remain facing him.

Whether he realized it or not, his possessive nature had recently developed into a obvious display of envy for their attention. Last week Vere had pointed this out to MC, inclusive of a short but obvious warning.

MC was very aware of Leander's jealousy. That was not the problem here. The problem was their own recently budding envy whenever he stepped out for a quick hook-up, leaving them behind.

Waiting for him.

Ais was seemingly the only regular who took notice fofthis more recent development. His advice was… well it less eloquent than Vere's, but he was right nonetheless. MC needed to do something about it already.

They took the first metaphorical step forward.

"Oh no, don't worry. It's not a situation that I can't handle," they reassured him. "But I'm not so naive as to think that he truly has no ulterior reason to share his resources or time with me." MC placed their hand over the one he still had on their hip, and smiled up at him before letting it go. "I also know that we both have our own sort of needs, so to speak. I'm very eager to tell him all of my thoughts on the matter."

His expression flinched and he cocked his head to the side, finally starting to catching on to who this "friend" might be.

"Oh?" the sound came out a lot lower than he probably meant it to. As if to compensate, his hand relaxed from their side, placing it on the counter beside them. He set his drink down and gave them his full attention, deciding to play along with their bashful elusion.

"What exactly is it that you want him to know?"

"Well, with friends, these kind of things are usually as simple as give and take. With strangers, though? Debts are just transactions waiting to be completed. He's not a stranger, and I don't want him to be," they punctuated that last sentence by playfully turning their head the opposite way of his. Challenging him. "So what I'm trying to figure out, is exactly how I can adequately return the favors, as a friend."

MC gazed up into Leander's calm face as they both took the moment to observe each other's body language. His eyes squinted, studying them, savoring the words, collecting his thoughts.

"…and you're going to pay him back...by running up a tab in his name?" A smirk finally broke free from beneath the mask, clearly amused.

MC laughed and waved their hand in the air to dispel the concern.

"I promise there's no tab, I really did get permission from the bartender-" Leander gingerly grabbed their wrapped up hand mid-air.

"Did you have something specific in mind for evening the odds with this friend?" He Interrupted their rambling. He'd been waiting for this very conversation about debts and repayments, and needed them to stay focused. What he didn't understand, though, was this new commentary on friendship, and why they were beating around the bush about it?

He intertwined his fingers with their own, hoping to ease some of their nervousness. Generally, he really did try to make an effort to not to scare them off. A hearty blush bloomed across MC's cheeks, much to Leander's pleasure.

"Well?" He gently urged. MC thought carefully about their next move, not wanting to waste their precious moment of leverage.

"Well. I guess it depends," MC drawled out, slowly reaching for the drink Leander had abandoned. It was right next to them on the counter, so they made sure to brush their arm against him as they reached for it, and then again as they brought the drink it in. They felt the toned muscles in his arm and torso stiffen at the contact. His icy eyes shot up to theirs, questioning the less-than-subtle touches.

"Depends… on what?" He cautioned.

MC brought his glass up to their face, but instead of taking a sip they parted their lips and just barely exposed their soft tongue to kiss at the condensation from the side of the glass he'd sipped from. They felt the moisture wet their lips as the missed dots slid down the glass, catching on their clothed fingers. It had hints of the same berry concoction he first served them weeks ago. They held his icy gaze as his unrestrained hand gripped the counter at the side of their waist, fingernails digging into the wood. His intertwined hand shook a little in their own.

They literally had him in the palms of their hands.

All the light bulbs suddenly went off over Leander's head, and he was not prepared for the sudden, blinding illumination. They had completely caught him off-guard for once. He almost resented the pride welling up in him. His eyes were wide, he held his breath and waited for their next move.

"I guess it depends on what I have to offer. If I'm being realistic, it will probably be some random errands around town." They shrugged, instantly changing their tone and posture to something far more casual, despite being boxed in very close to Leander's warm body. Their demeanor changed as though he wasn't even there. "Maybe delivering a few messages or something equally as boring. I most certainly wouldn't want to wager anything that I couldn't take back as simply transactional." They gave his nervous hand a firm squeeze.

MC watched as his face shifted from confusion, then to shock, and finally settled on disappointment. He looked down at the floor, hummed in admission, and begrudgingly let go of their hand.

"That is understandable," he acknowledged. "You friend would do right to respect you for that decision."

"Mhm, and I feel lucky because I know that he will." They smiled to him, and he returned it with a polite, but sad one.

Was MC always capable of being that cruel? Couldn't they have simply turned him down outright? Why even bother ruffling his feathers like that...?

"So, you want to run errands for him?" He tried to shove the disappointment and confusion down. He would just have to respect their wishes.

"Sure, I don't mind repaying his favors in that way. As long as he understands that the sex is strictly for fun."

Leander choked hard when his breath caught in his throat.

Pleased at his shocked reaction, MC closed their eyes and tasted the actual drink this time. It was indeed exactly the same kind he had once served them all those nights ago.

"Mm, there's nothing quite like the sweetness after the burn," they murmured, licking the residue from their teeth.

When they opened their eyes again, Leander was standing straight and rigid. He was stunned! The nerve of them!!

He wrenched the drink from their grasp and raised it up, tossing the entire thing back in one smooth movement. His slow, steady gulps were expertly practiced from years of living his reckless lifestyle.

MC silently prayed that he wasn't angry, and that they had played their cards just right, dealing him a satisfactory taste of his own lascivious medicine.

Leander sighed after reaching the bottom of the glass.

So that's their play, he thought to himself. He could work with this.

"Is that all?" He grinned like a fox as he set the empty container down, recovering from his surprise. Thank the gods he wasn't put off, but now MC worried for what his response was going be.

"So, you want to keep your work separate from your fun, as a friend?" He summarized.

"Only if he's interested." They felt bold enough to readjust their footing to square him up. His chest completely obscured their vision of the open room that lay out behind him. All they could see now was him, and they were grateful that his broad body obscured their own from potential onlookers at this angle.

On his face, he wore what was quite possibly the cockiest grin they had ever seen. MC couldn't help but shiver under the intensity of his piercing gaze. His eyes sparkled an incandescent green, the only indication that he was preparing himself for extended contact with their curse.

Everything that happened next went much faster than they could have expected it to.

His arm snaked around their lower back, slowly pressing a large hand into the base of their spine. This caused them to slightly arch forward, eliciting a small gasp. He bowed deep, bringing his face almost cheek to cheek beside theirs to murmur into their ear, in a voice low enough that not even Vere's monster ears could have picked up the sound. There was barely a breath of space left between them.

"I think he's very interested." He all but purred, with an uncharacteristically low rumbling that spilled forth from deep within his chest. MC sucked in a sharp breath on reflex and braced their hands against his chest. They squeezed their eyes shut as a dizzying wave of flutters nearly swept them away. He chuckled at their adorable reaction.

They stood like that for a moment. MC felt the chills that ran down their spine melt into a new heat, pooling beneath Leander's hand that was laying flush against their sensitive muscles. MC suddenly realized that he likely had tricks up his sleeve they didn't even know existed.

He took the last half-step forward, and MC instinctively moved backwards, unintentionally pressing their rear into the counter to make space that didn't exist. They accidentally trapped his hand in place by doing so.

The sandwiched position left only a small opening for their face to rest in the crook of his neck. They completely melted into his frame as his grip on the small of their back deepened. He hummed in approval of their nuzzling.

MC would have been embarrassed to death about the public display of lust if they were even capable of producing a single coherent thought in that moment. They were too overwhelmed with reveling in their own self-satisfaction to notice that Leander's other hand was reaching for the other key on his belt.

"What do you say to that?" He purred, the vibrations passing through his body and into MC's, rattling them to the core.

Their breath was hot and sweet, fanning across his neck and mixing with the scent of his body. It was syrupy but sharp, just like his drink. Just like him.

"I hope you don't keep me waiting too long." They whispered.

[bikananjarrus]

okay!!!!!!!! so!!!! the acolyte ep5 thoughts!!

below a cut this time, because MAJOR spoiler warning!

where to start, where to start. oh yeah. HOW COULD THEY DO THAT TO MY GIRL JECKI????? TO YORD???? like jecki was bad enough, but then YORD TOO???? ALL OF THEM???? 😭😭😭😭😭

okay, but actually trying to break down some of my thoughts (all based off just the first watch; my opinions may change as the episode marinates a little longer).

the good stuff:

the hand-to-hand combat remains REALLY strong in this show. mae and jecki's fight was fantastic. it was fast, and it was great seeing the differences between this and mae's fights with sol and indara. sol and indara are much more experienced, so they're moving around mae, she's barely landing a blow. jecki and mae are both younger, less experienced, so seeing a scrappier fight that matched their similar sizes and speeds was really great.

i was really eager to see the lightsaber v lightsaber choreography and overall it did NOT disappoint!!!! i will have to rewatch, but i feel pretty good saying this is definitely some of the fastest, and, imo, some of the BEST lightsaber fighting we've seen in a long, long time in live action. the initial fight with sol vs qimir cut with jecki and mae's brawl wasn't the best choice, made both fights feel a little stunted. but once we focused on just the lightsaber fighting, it flowed amazingly.

jecki fighting with two sabers was SO fucking incredible. using her size to her advantage was really well done, because she was fucking FAST. it was exhilarating watching her fight, and i was definitely on the edge of my seat when she was fighting qimir solo. so excellent job on them ramping up the tension for that

qimir's reveal: not surprising. I was still pretty 50/50 on whether he would be a red herring or not, but i'm not disappointed that he turned out to be the master! manny was really great in this episode! a little creepy, but very much in control of what he's doing. eager to see where we go with him!

mae's line about the jedi turning osha against her, almost word for word what anakin says in rots. i love a parallel <3

sol's line that was like "what kind of master doesn't look his apprentice in the face?" and qimir's response was "you tell me" VERY GOOD. very curious to see what sol's been hiding. especially bc qimir also said "don't you recognize me" and sol said qimir felt familiar.

the not so good:

as mentioned above, i thought cutting together sol and qimir's initial fight with mae and jecki's brawl was a little choppy. you couldn't quite get into either fight at first. but luckily the fight pacing all smoothed out pretty quick with the rest of the fighting.

mae and osha's face to face scene at the end wasn't the most believable for me. amandla is a fantastic actor, but i can imagine it's still hard playing across from yourself. and it just felt like there was a little something missing from that encounter for me, as far as the emotion of it.

the BIG stuff (aka everybody died!):

i was definitely expecting there to be some casualties this episode, namely from the side jedi characters, who i don't think were named. they were pretty clearly there to be cannon fodder, which they were.

i went into this episode worried for sol, because it's never a good sign when a master says something along the lines of "we'll talk later" because later never comes lol. but turns out! he was the safest dude here!

i was not real worried about osha and mae, because the story is revolving around them, and there's still too much unresolved with their past and relationship with each other, that i figured they would both be fine.

JECKI AND YORD HOWEVER.

look. jecki was bad enough. and then to kill yord too?????

on one hand: i respect it. it sets qimir up as a very formidable antagonist. the stakes have been RAISED. and in a show that's about mystery and intrigue, high stakes aren't a bad thing.

my concern with setting qimir up as this formidable is that there are 3 episodes left. if this is only supposed to be a one season show (tho i hope not), or if they are planning on having it be a complete arc, and defeating qimir, 3 episodes doesn't seem like very much time to get on his level to defeat him. i could very much be proven wrong with this! and we've still got vernestra in our back pocket who is very experienced and has fought some big bads in her time.

but regardless, so so here for him as the antagonist.

on the other hand: i am really really bummed about jecki and yord. like i said, it was bad enough about jecki because i REALLY liked her, and her connection with osha was really nice to see (shoutout to dafne and amandla for their great chemistry). like when i say that SHOOK ME TO MY CORE. (admittedly, the 3 hole punch with the double red lightsabers was pretty sick, but STILL). like jaw dropped and stayed there lol.

and so i thought: well. maybe that means yord will be okay. like, alongside osha and sol, jecki and yord were the other two of the core four. killing one of the core four is pretty big. WELL THEY HAPPILY PROVED ME WRONG.

again: i respect the decision to kill a bunch of characters to raise the stakes and show off your antagonist.

i'm just curious to see if the rest of the characters will be able to hold up without jecki and yord. i think they will! sol and osha's and mae and osha's relationship have been the heart of the show from the start, so i trust that the story will continue to show that. i'm just a little unsure how it will feel going forward without the prominent second tier main characters that we had in jecki and yord. if that makes sense?

(also really bummed that there will be no more jecki lightsaber fights because genuinely, her fighting style was breathtaking to watch! and i wanted ten more hours of it!!)

so i'm really really fucking sad about jecki and yord. but i am going to wait to see the whole show to really decide how i feel about how their deaths fit the story, and if their deaths actually added anything. bc their own story arcs being cut off so abruptly should mean something.

okay, i think i touched on everything i wanted to! i think i'm mostly still in shock! we will likely be moving onto denial very soon lol. but i'm still excited to see the rest of the show, and i really hope we get more than just one season.

[misc-obeyme]

9 Days of Solomon: Day 7 - Familiar

This one may have ended up a little cheesy but I couldn't RESIST. I got the idea for the first few lines of dialogue and I knew I wouldn't be able to write anything different, so here we are.

This one features Satan because I think everybody forgets that Solomon is also a fan of cats. And I really believe that they would encourage each other on this particular topic.

MC also makes an appearance. It's all platonic, but when I tell you that writing this made me want to write some actual SoloTan...

Solomon was in the kitchen at Cocytus Hall, not making anything for once. He was sitting at the kitchen counter, looking through an old book of curses that Satan had brought over to show him. Satan himself was making tea for them. You were at the House of Lamentation and wouldn't be home until later that evening.

Solomon was absorbed in the book, fascinated by the archaic language the curses were written in. He was studying each page carefully, not fully paying attention to his surroundings.

"Have you ever considered getting a familiar?"

Solomon looked up. Satan was leaning on the counter, chin in his hand, while he waited for the water to boil. He had the clear look of someone who's been daydreaming.

Solomon smiled. "That's more of a witch thing than a sorcerer thing. Why?"

Satan looked across the counter at him. "It occurs to me that you could keep a cat here at Cocytus Hall."

Solomon's eyes widened. He had never thought of that. He frowned. There was a reason he hadn't. But Satan didn't know that you and Solomon were from the future. He couldn't know that at some point, Solomon would have to leave such a pet behind if he actually got one.

And who would take care of that cat when he was gone?

Satan looked at him quizzically, still waiting for a response.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a familiar," Solomon said carefully.

Satan smiled and although it was soft, there was also a sparkle behind his eyes, like he was trying to keep in his excitement. "There are many cats looking for homes here in the Devildom," Satan said.

Solomon nodded seriously. "I'm sure there are. But Satan, if anything were to happen to me or MC, I need you to promise me you'll take care of it."

Satan had just taken the kettle off the stove, preparing to pour the water into the teapot. Now he paused and frowned at Solomon. "What an odd thing to say," he said.

"Ahaha! Is it? I think it's a perfectly reasonable request." Solomon sat back and smiled.

Satan seemed to relax, going back to pouring the water for tea. He set the kettle back on the stove and shrugged. "Of course I would," he said.

Solomon shook his head. "I need you to promise."

Satan frowned again. "You're being strangely persistent about this."

"Adopting a cat is a serious commitment," Solomon said. "I want to make sure it has the best life possible. And no one would ever take care of it as well as you. Don't you agree?"

"Mm.” Satan nodded briefly in agreement. "Very well. I promise to care for any cat you decide to adopt in the event that you or MC can no longer do so yourselves."

Solomon smiled. "Thank you, Satan. After we have some of this tea, why don't you show me what cats you had in mind?"

Later that evening, you came home after a tiring day with the brothers, even if there was one less than usual. You had known that Satan was at Cocytus Hall with Solomon, but you assumed they would be spending their time reading that dusty old book of curses.

You had not expected to walk into the living room to find them both sitting on the floor, watching a black cat with long fur and bright yellow eyes cleaning its paws.

"Is that a stray?" you asked.

Solomon looked up at you. "This is my new familiar," he said. "Satan found her on the RAD grounds last week."

You folded your arms and frowned. "Familiar? I thought that was a witch thing."

"It is," Satan said. "We're only using that as an excuse for Solomon to have a pet cat here."

Solomon laughed and nudged Satan with his elbow.

Satan shrugged. "It's true."

"Did you ask Barbatos?" you asked. “Or Lord Diavolo?”

Solomon and Satan exchanged a guilty look that told you everything you needed to know.

You sighed, crossing the room. You approached the cat slowly, waiting to see how she would react to you. She was sitting on the sofa, watching you come closer. You put your hand in front of her nose and she immediately pushed her face into it. She began to purr as you scratched behind her ears.

"Well, MC?" Solomon asked. "We’re keeping her, right?"

You glanced over your shoulder to see the two most pathetically pleading faces you'd ever seen in your life.

You smiled and shook your head a little. "You know, Cocytus Hall is pretty big. I'm sure there are things living here that we don't know about."

Solomon got to his feet in moments to wrap his arms around you. You laughed and pretended to struggle.

Satan picked up the cat, who seemed content to settle in his arms. “Cocytus Hall is quite large, isn’t it? Perhaps other strays will find shelter here.”

You sighed. “This is only the beginning, huh?”

Solomon squeezed you. “I have no idea what you mean, my adorable apprentice.”

Solomon stretched his arms out toward Satan while still keeping them around you.

You saw what he wanted and yanked Satan into a hug, the cat pressed between you.

“I want no part of this!” Satan protested. He tried to get free, but it was too late. You and Solomon weren’t letting him go. He blushed and frowned, but stopped struggling to escape. The cat meowed and began to purr.

day 1: stars | day 2: nostalgia | day 3: knife | day 4: ocean | day 5: pact (nsfw) | day 6: snow | day 8: Barbatos | day 9: humanity

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[artist-issues]

What do you think about the Spider-Verse movies, if you've seen them? I love the first one a lot but I've only seen the second one once and, while I think I really liked it too, something about it felt off and I can't quite place it.

I'm glad you phrased this question this way because me too. I totally couldn't place what felt off about Across the Spider-Verse and have been trying to answer the "why" question ever since.

Just to get it out of the way real quick, I thought the first movie was amazing, of course, no surprises. You can tell they really know who the characters are (and I mean, they know what they want their own interpretations of those characters to look like) and that shows in all the emotion and the dialogue. The pacing is perfect. Don't need to say anything about the art style because we all know it's very very good.

I like that Miles has to learn his own version of "with great power comes great responsibility," but in a different way from Peter. Like, with Peter, you get the sense that that lesson is being applied like "if you have the power to do something good, do it."

But it's applied differently with Miles. Not "you have the power to help others, so take responsibility for that." Instead, it's, "you have the power to be something more than you are, so take responsibility for your potential."

Think about it. Uncle Ben dies because Peter didn't stop a bad guy. Something good he could’ve done, but didn’t do.

But Uncle Aaron (in this version, very intentionally) dies because of his own choice to save Miles after using his talents to be a force for evil (kind of showing Miles what “living up to our potential too late” looks like)—and then Miles, unlike Peter, gets to hear his Uncle's last words—which just so happen to be a specific encouragement for Miles to fulfill his potential.

And of course, every other character in the movie is asking Miles if he can be what they expect him to be.

It's not till he hears it from his dad, though, that he believes it. I think all that is great (though not nearly as impactful as Peter Parker, because Peter Parker's application of "responsibility" is more selfless. But both Spider-Men have to think less about their own comfort zones and personal success, and more about others.)

Also, real quick, Peter B. Parker learns the same facet of responsibility as Miles in this movie, too. I mean, they drop him into this story as a Peter Parker who’s already learned his own version of “take responsibility for the good you can do.” Now he needs to learn, as a guy who’s afraid to be a dad, how to take responsibility for his own potential.

I mean, there’s really no such thing as “ready,” in these big life decisions. You just do it, as best you can, and you get ready along the way. Heroics, fatherhood, you name it. Leaps of faith. Applicable to all.

Anyway. I said that was going to be real quick, it wasn't, but whatevs.

On to Across the Spider Verse:

I’ve seen this movie twice. And I think I’d need to see it again to really…get what it’s trying to say. There’s some parts about what I think the Main Point is that I like, and some parts I really don’t. There’s also some parts about the actual “art of storytelling” in it that I like, and some that…I think miss the mark, if I can be that bold.

The movie seems to be saying “be true to who you are.” I hate that message. Because human beings are flawed and every-changing, even though the connotations of the phrase “true to” imply something constant. You can’t be “true” to who you are if who you are is always changing. Even if you want to say “yeah, I’m always changing, so I’ll just be true to whoever I am in the moment,” well, what’s the point of that? Ultimately, your “self” is a terrible thing to point the compass of your life at.

But Miles and Gwen both have to decide that they don’t care what everybody around them tells them to be—AND they have to trust others with their identity. Choosing who they are, and then forcing everyone around them to accept it, (Miles telling his alt.universe mother his identity, declaring himself Spider-Man whether the spider was meant to bite him or not, Gwen remaining Spider-Woman regardless of what it forces her father to do, etc.) is treated like a good thing.

That’s not always great, when it’s contrasted with this idea of “the greater good” or “accepting the grand plan for the sake of the world.” The movie makes the “greater good” look like a bad thing.

…But the movie also equates the negative “greater good” with “let one person die because we can’t save everybody.” So it’s like…yeah. You have a point, Miles. If the “greater good” means you know someone is about to die and you just let it happen—instead of letting that person choose to be the sacrifice knowingly—that seems messed up, morally.

And I like parts of that, because I like the valuing of life, and I like the idea that being a control freak is a bad thing, because it’s prideful, etc. But who’s the control-freak? The kid who thinks he can do it all? Or the outer-dimensional watchdog who’s literally “holding all the strings together?”

And then there’s the cop-out of “Well, maybe none of these questions have answers because it’s only PART ONE!”

Basically, I’ll stop here, and just admit; I haven’t got a handle on why I don’t wholeheartedly like the second movie, either. It’s just not as tight and well-crafted as the first one. Still incredible, don’t get me wrong. Just…something is off.

I’ll talk about other stuff, instead of the Main Point.

I think the pacing is weird. Too much time is given to characters like Pavitr Parker and Hobie (yes, Hobie, I don’t care, he gets too much screen time.) and even The Spot. As much as I love seeing Andrew Garfield, all the cameos take up too much time. The chase scene? Waaay. WAY. Too much time. But that’s the gimmick they leaned in to, so that’s that.

The first movie knew when to make shots that were super artsy few and far between so that they added to a climactic moment. In this movie, just about every shot is doing something new and flashy with the effects, the backgrounds, the stylized icons, all of the above. Only scenes like the ones where Miles and his mom are talking on the fire escape have that “Gorgeous But Normal” vibe. So you feel like you’re just being firehosed with cool artwork, instead of the artwork melting seamlessly into the story and then popping out to enhance impactful moments.

Also, the facial expressions, particularly in the mouth-areas, are all not as impactful as they were in the first movie. The mouth movements aren’t dramatic enough to fit what the voice actors are doing in a lot of important scenes.

Finally, if I had to pick one big beef with the movie, it would be what they did with Peter B. Parker. I mean, just…relegating him to comic relief, entirely. No arc. No emotional depth. And his baby is just like…there. There’s nothing about him that acts like Spider-Man would.

Anyway, I’ll watch it again, I promise, and come back with more organized thoughts. (But that’s sort of the problem. A well-crafted, finely-tuned story usually doesn’t need this much analyzation to make it’s point—usually it’s clear. But there’s always the chance that it’s a me problem—an audience problem—so I’ll watch it again.)

[2a8n]

Shirogane's dream - Monologues

As I promised, we will be covering monologues in the Shirogane's dream and some of his changes in the Ice Scream Remake in a separate post. Here will be purely my reflections, as always. However, I would also like to see your thoughts on this theme. And now let's get started!

Wowww, you're so weak. "Wow, you are so disgusting." Well, did he start behaving less disgustingly from this? ( - _ - ) Crying from a mere orca punch? Gross. Has our hot-tempered penguin ever found Shirogane crying? And what's more, did Shiro tell him why he was crying? Could this be the reason why our depressed wolf is now hiding from everyone to cry, and can not really tell anyone about his experiences? Just be quiet. Hmm… Shirogane said something to our polar bear, but in response she just shut him up? It's curious. Usually Rocma starts a dialogue with Shiro, who in turn either remains silent or answers her with monosyllabic sentences like "I'm sorry", "I'm sorry… (next comes the answer to the question she asked)", etc. I can remember a moment from manga, when our wolf was indignant at what she said instead of "Thank you", but she only ignored him and continued to talk about her own. Hey, Shirogane! You're looking stupid as always! Shirogane seems to have an over-hyper fixation on his appearance, since Suno-san refers to it more than once when verbally insulting a wolf. It is likely that this is due to the scars that were once inflicted on Shiro's body and on his face. These scars apparently bother him so much that he doesn't want anyone to see and/or mention them at all (he even hid the scar on his face from Yukisada, his friend, at one of DSP's official works).

….. ….. It reminded me of the moment in Ice Scream Round 3 where Yukisada had to remain silent for most of Rocma's scolding with roughly the same facial expression. ♪ Looks like someone was in a good mood. Too bad Shirogane can't boast the same… =( Hi, doggy! ♪ I'll give you a nice punch in the face. Even railroads could envy his directness. Really nothing to add. You really are pathetic, huh… Peraco seemed to hope that he wasn't pathetic (by the standards of the inhabitants of Iceberg Isle, I guess), but Shiro couldn't live up to her expectations. You're lower than a seal, you moron. If "seal" means Mafuyu, it's rather strange that you don't call her by her name, Rock.

H-Hey, don't say such mean things, everybody! Yukisada is the only one who tries to stand up for Shirogane. Our kindhearted owl is even ready to go against the majority opinion for him. I respect. I'll give you something to cry about. If you finally get off this isle, then believe me, everyone will cry. From happiness. =) I'm just speechless. When someone is speechless, they usually don't say anything, so don't lie to us, Rocma. ? We are often shown Mafuyu from a fragments of Shirogane's memories. I don't understand, why he pays quite a lot of attention to her, despite the fact that the seal girl herself, based on what is shown, doesn't do a lot of things. You're like a water flea about to die! Have you… seen a dying water flea somewhere? In the North? Or is it usually on TV at the Peraco's house?

Weakling! Worm! Wood louse! And now I'm even more inclined to think that they learned about the water flea, the worm, the wood louse, the caterpillar and the bees from the TV in the Peraco's house… Hey! Shirogane's crying! Stop it! Shiro upset that Yukisada has to stand up for him? Does he feel guilty that his friend has to do this, or is Shirogane ashamed that he can't take care of himself? Ahahahaha! You big baby! Look at the big baby! Here, Suno-san is trying to play on the shame of our pessimistic wolf. But, judging by the words of the snowman, there must be someone else (maybe Yukisada?) in order for the effect to be more tangible from what he said to him. You're dead, kiddo. Heh, it's funny that Rock in Ice Scream Original addressed our wolf not as "Shi*ogane", but as "kiddo". It's kind of a sad that DSP decided to remove it. ….. ….. Now I believe that you have speechless, Rocma. True. ( 0 v 0 )

The part of the post dedicated to my reflections on the monologues from Shirogane's dream is over. Next will be my thoughts about the remade version of the same monologues from the Ice Scream Remake. I will not draw any definite conclusions, since this is purely reasoning on what has been said, some of which doesn't carry a large semantic load in the context of the Ice Scream itself as a whole. And now - to the finish line!

Silence yourself. | Just be quiet. The sentence has been changed, but the meaning is the same. Here, rather, the difference will be in which of the options we have for what Rocma said, rudeness and harshness towards Shirogane will be more noticeable. ♪ | ♪ You won't see anything new here. You can safely skip. Crying just because a big bad orca hit you? Gross. | Crying from a mere orca punch? Gross. "Big bad orca" -> "Big bad wolf"; that's funny. I think in the "big bad orca" version, Rock's derogatory attitude towards the Shirogane's situation is much seen stronger than in the other case. You are seriously pathetic. | You really are pathetic, huh… Here, Peraco's disappointment towards Shiro is no longer noticeable due to the unfulfillment of her hopes in his person. Now she just thinks he's pathetic. Heya, Shirogane! Your face is looking as stupid as ever! | Hey, Shirogane! You're looking stupid as always! Now Suno-san puts more emphasis in insults not so much towards the whole appearance of our pessimistic wolf, but towards his face. Hmm… Woaaah, eww. You're really weak. | Wowww, you're so weak. In the Original Idate showed feigned surprise at the wolf's weakness. In the Remake, he pretends that Shirogane's weakness is comparable to stepping on a poop, I guess.

Hey, everyone, don't say such mean things to him! | H-Hey, don't say such mean things, everybody! Yukisada is still the voice of adequacy in this madhouse, but, for some reason, the moment with his silence was cut in the Remake (I marked in purple what wasn't in the Remake). You're even worse than a seal, you absolute fool. | You're lower than a seal, you moron. Rock began to place more emphasis on insults towards Shiro. Considering that it is written in his bio that he takes out his disappointment on the poor guy, it becomes clear what DSP is trying to focus on. You wussy! Worm! Weevil! | Weakling! Worm! Wood louse! Nothing new has appeared. It's just that now we know that you can also see weevils on TV in the Peraco's house. You're like a water flea 3 second from its death. | You're like a water flea about to die! Given that both the in-game bio and his chart explicitly state that he has depression, I don't even know if Suno-san is trying to emphasize that Shiro is more dead than alive, or he looks like he's about to die… ( 0 _ 0 ) C'mhere, you worthles mutt. Let me give you a good punch. | Hi, doggy! ♪ I'll give you a nice punch in the face. Wolf, loser dog, pathetic puppy, doggy, worthles mutt… What's next? Mongrel? Squeak toy…?

Hey! Don't you feel bad for Shirogane? Stop it! | Hey! Shirogane's crying! Stop it! Yukisada, in my opinion, the normal attitude of others towards your friend should come not from their desire to feel sorry for him, but from their desire not to do bad things towards him… Ahahahaha! Crybaby! You snot-nosed wimp! | Ahahahaha! You big baby! Look at the big baby! In both cases, as for me, the phrases sound provocative. It's hard to explain without the context of what Suno-san has basically been saying all this time in the game. ? | ? You won't see anything new here. You can safely skip. How about I make you cry again? | I'll give you something to cry about. You won't see anything new here. You can also safely skip. I am so done with you. I have nothing left to say. | I'm just speechless. Now her phrase in the Remake sounds more like "preachy", and makes sense: in Watch 1, we were even shown how Rocma tried to Shirogane verbally "guide on the right path" while he was bleeding.

I'll kill you. | You're dead, kiddo. Bye-bye, kiddo… ( v _ v )

[emigrves]

𝐢. act one ⎯ promise

! 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤 ! ⎯ I'm by no means a professional writer, but I've come into a lot of inspiration here lately and I wanted to share the prologue to my new story 'THE MIRAGE', which is a Five Hargreeves fanfiction. I'm not the best at navigating tumblr (kinda embarrassing), so don't mind me.

! 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 ! ⎯ Descriptions of psychological distress, angst, and of course fluff that everybody loves.

! 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤𝖲 ! ⎯ If you're interested in reading more, you can find me @emigrves on wattpad.

! 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 ! ⎯ 2k.

2002.

It seemed Sir Reginald Hargreeves had a singular talent: devising methods to psychologically torment his children. Each situation was meticulously crafted to exploit individual weaknesses, whatever they might be. Some children suffered more than others, while some were blatantly ignored and told they weren’t special. Yet, even then, Reginald could make anyone wish for death.

At least, that was Estrella’s perspective.

She sat on the floor of the blank room her father had built, isolated and alone for hours. Here, she had all the time in the world to think, letting her thoughts claw at her mind, making the voice in her head, which usually whispered, scream bloody murder.

Her father had specifically created this room to hone her power, which only worked when she could see the object or person she was trying to distort. Reginald was adamant that by isolating herself and removing all stimulation, she would one day be able to manipulate what she couldn't see. So far, it had only made her feel like she was losing her damn mind.

The first few times he locked her in what felt like an isolation cell for hours, she was desperate for any form of stimulation. But after repeatedly being locked away, she realized a person could only make themselves bleed to see any color besides white so many times. She began creating illusions for herself.

She made the walls seem like they were closing in, the metal door opening with Klaus on the other side offering her a cigarette. She wished that image was real and some days, she let herself pretend it was. Sometimes, the illusions appeared without her creating them, and that’s when she knew she was truly going insane in this room.

The only sound in the stagnant air was the harsh buzz of the overhead lighting, which she had been staring at for God knows how many hours. The white light stung her eyes, and she welcomed the slight burn of her retinas and the pounding of her temples that accompanied it.

She was so deep in her self-loathing thoughts that she hardly registered the sound of the large metal door scraping open, revealing the man who haunted every one of her nightmares. Eventually, her gaze dropped to him as she sat against the farthest wall from the door.

“You are a great disappointment to me, Number Zero,” Reginald sighed in his posh English accent, glancing down at his wristwatch. “I give you twenty-six hours to focus solely on your power, and I haven’t seen a single mirage beyond what you can see.”

Instead of crying, scowling, or delivering a snarky response as she usually did, Estrella couldn’t muster anything except to stand up and walk exhaustively across the room and out the door she had been staring at for hours. She brushed past him, leaving the place she felt was more her home than the rest of the academy.

Knowing that she didn’t—and probably never would—live up to her father’s expectations no longer bothered her as it did when she was little. Back then, she had wanted nothing more than to improve her power and become the world’s greatest hero. But now she felt like the number assigned to her: Zero. Nothing. A placeholder. Even Vanya had a number, and she didn’t even have a power, let alone the permission to be around the other siblings.

Estrella had no idea what time it was or how long she had been sitting on the academy’s roof, gazing up at the stars. What she did know was that it was a relief to look at something that didn’t burn her eyes or make her head pound.

She had purposely avoided all possible interactions with her family on her way to the roof, not in the right headspace for any meaningful conversations beyond a few head nods and unfocused glances.

Luther would probably ask why she wasn’t taking her training seriously or why she didn’t seem interested in strengthening her power, which would irk Estrella to no end. If he understood how much more difficult mental training was compared to just punching things and sucking up to their father, she was sure he wouldn’t be giving unsolicited advice on how to be a machine.

Klaus, though she loved him dearly, would just talk her ears off without noticing. She cherished those midnight conversations with him while sharing a blunt he got from God knows where, but she couldn’t handle it right now.

Diego, Allison, and Ben knew better than to talk to Estrella after her training, which bordered more on psychological torture than anything else. Vanya would try to sympathize, which was sweet and well-meaning, but Estrella hated being pitied more than she hated her father.

Then there was Five, the egotistical bastard who knew he was the best yet despised Reginald as much as the rest of them did. Out of all her siblings, she understood him the least. She knew he wasn’t one for idle chit-chat or deep conversations. Estrella had a feeling he kept a lot to himself, as did she, but at least she wasn’t nearly as cocky. And she certainly didn’t think she was the best.

Yet whenever his green eyes met hers, she saw something burning behind them: the desire to be the best, the craving to consistently improve his power even to the point of absolute exhaustion. Something about that gaze made her stomach churn with an unknown and somewhat annoying feeling. There was a part of Estrella that wanted to peel back the layers of the facade Five wore so well, to see him as the broken person no one else knew him to be.

When Estrella heard footsteps approaching, she closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, bracing for an exchange she had tried to avoid. “Go away, Klaus,” she breathed, her voice hoarse from hours of disuse.

The footsteps stopped just behind her, followed by a short exhale. “Sorry to disappoint,” a familiar voice, confident and not Klaus’s, began. “But I’m not the village idiot.”

Estrella’s eyes snapped open at the unexpected voice. “I’d rather it be him than you.” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the sky. Even though she didn’t care what Five thought of her, part of her didn’t want him to see the dark circles under her eyes, the pure exhaustion clouding her features.

It was absurd that out of all people, Five was the one she was concerned about seeing her like this: broken, tired, a shell of a girl. Maybe it was because he seemed so put together compared to her, maybe it was because it was embarrassing to be seen like this.

Five let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shoving his hands into his uniform pockets as he stood behind her. Though he found her comment somewhat amusing despite her obvious lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, he moved to sit down next to her. “I didn’t see you at dinner, so I figured you’d be up here.”

Estrella noticed his lack of acknowledgment to her gibe but expected it. She began picking at the skin around her nails, refusing to look in his direction even after he sat beside her. “You figured, huh?” she scoffed quietly. “And how’d you figure that? You been spying on me?”

His jaw twitched slightly at her comment, and he was suddenly grateful she wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Five laughed dryly, feeling a slight burn in his cheeks. “I’m just... concerned about you. It’s obvious whatever dad’s doing to you is tearing you apart.” His voice was softer now, much softer than he had intended.

His words made her fidgeting hands pause in her lap, but it was also the tone in which he said them. He told her he was concerned, despite his track record of indifference, and foolishly enough, she believed him. “...Is it weird that I would’ve preferred you said something condescending?” she asked with a small smile, turning to look at Five, who was already watching her.

His breath hitched slightly as her dark gaze met his pale green one, though thankfully she didn’t notice. In truth, he was just as caught off guard by the words that had escaped his lips. Why had he said that, and why had his voice softened as it did, far from his original intention?

“I can be condescending if that’s what you want,” he whispered, his eyes tracing every feature of her face.

Estrella swallowed as she watched his eyes take her in, yet she refused to break his gaze. It amazed her how fluidly he could switch up “Please,” she agreed, tilting her head slightly. “I like it better when you’re mean.”

As much as he hated losing, he looked away first. He didn’t want her to see what her words did to him, even if they were as simple as that. The look she was giving him was different from any look she had given him before, if she even looked at him at all.

“Look—” he began hastily, clearing his throat. “I’ve decided I’m going to time travel tomorrow, whether dear old dad agrees or not, and... you should come with me.” Even after he had said what he wanted, he refused to look at her. Funny how his whole egotistical act crumbled from just a look.

His words caught Estrella off guard, even more so than his tone earlier. Unsure of how to respond, she looked back up at the sky, admiring the moon. Amid all of life’s twists and turns, at least that stayed the same, right? She used the view as a brief distraction, pretending to search for words.

Before she could respond, Five took her silence as an opening to keep talking, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately, much to his own dismay. “I’ve seen what dad does to you, and I know he does it to the rest of us too, but it doesn’t tear them apart like it does you,” he whispered, joining her in looking up at the sky. “So if anyone deserves a chance to get the hell out of here, damn it, Estrella, it’s you.”

His words began to carry more of his usual conviction, making Estrella crack a small smile. Before he could renege on what he said out of embarrassment, she spoke. “I’ll go with you,” she began slowly. “As long as you promise not to be as mean to me when we come back.” She teased, turning to look at him.

He turned to meet her gaze, a small, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips—a sight that made Estrella’s heart clench and her face burn. “Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to ponder his decision. “...Deal.”

None of the events following that night felt real. It all seemed like a trick of her own mind, her power twisting reality into a hellish nightmare. But when she saw the look on Five’s face, the ash smeared over his features, she knew it wasn’t an illusion.

It was so tragic that it was almost funny.

Her whole life, she had wanted her illusions to be real, to be tangible. But now, faced with real life, real destruction and flames, she wished it were all an illusion—something that couldn’t touch her, something that couldn’t hurt the ones she loved.

The Earth she knew was coated in ash and rubble, the smell of decay and burnt flesh piercing her senses. It was enough to make her fall to her knees, and as much as she hated to admit it, their father was right.

He was right about the acorn in ice, about spatial jumping being trivial compared to time jumping. But they realized too late. Because they realized too late, they were left sifting through the collapsed academy, finding each of their battered siblings one by one, buried in concrete.

With no way back, she started to accept that this was their fate. Their karma.

Because they refused to listen to their father, they were damned to live in an apocalyptic world covered in ash and death. They were condemned to slowly die, knowing the only clue they had was Luther holding a bloody glass eye in his dead hand.

[bluemooncove]

"Sorry for intruding into the tournament like that, Miss Knight. I saw her file, and... I couldn't help but to feel directly responsible for what happened to her, so I had to confront her myself."

Rirune! Carmilla. You know. Helping herself with drinks. High alcohol ones.

"... In what I do just to substain myself, these kind of things are unavoidable, but... I still couldn't help but feel crushed throughout the whole thing."

"... Sorry, I know you want a drink, yet you're seeing me rant like this. What would you like?"

She leans against the bar. What just happened had been messy. When she warned Rirune that someone was looking for him, she had not expected that to be his response. Yet, she couldn't exactly fault him. Armor Knight did not know the entire situation, but from what she saw he seemed to be trying to motivate her to move beyond vengeance. Given how she had seen anger consume many a guild member, it was a good message.

"Think you need it more than me, Carm. But. well, if you're offering. I couldn't pass up strawberry kompot. Always used to love them back home."

As Rirune prepares the drink, she starts to monologue.

"From what I hear? You were only acting in the people's best interests when you faced her father. Yet, reality is, everything we do, even when it's for the right reason? It all has an impact. Like a cue ball striking the colors in billiard. The initial hit bounces around and hits the other balls. Sometimes you see it coming but sometimes you don't.

I can't count the amount of times I've been hired to save a village from bandits. Every time, protecting those people has been the right thing, but those bandits each have lives too. Maybe one only turned to banditry 'cause his sister needed expensive medicine. Now that I've put a stop to their crimes, she ain't going to get it. The others? Who knows who was counting on all of them. Hell my ... well it's tough to say friend but my ally Crusader got by as a bandit for quite some time. That means I know being a bandit doesn't mean someone can't become a good hero. But I still have to stop them, because whatever impact it may have, they're still hurting people.

But the impacts I can't see, they still happen. In every direction. Sometimes it's a bit higher concept. I get rid of the monster in the cave that was hindering trade. The village can get much needed resources now but also now miners can work in the cave. Working there they unleash the thing far more dangerous deep down. Whole village? Gone! Wouldn't have happened if the monster was still there. That one was just hypothetical, but I've seen a lot of things like that."

She pauses just long enough to take a swig of the drink she's been handed. It's a deep swing. By the time she finished the mug is empty.

"Some people like, my junior in the guild, Necromancer try to reduce this impact as much as possible. She tries to keep everything as still and in place as she can. I don't agree with this idea. I think we have to do what we think is right and take the impacts as they come. Working in this guild I've realized everybody has their own ideas of good and evil. What I think is good, others see as bad. We can only hope to follow our own justice and pray in the end that those who came after look back on it as right.

I ... uh ... I hope this doesn't come across as a lecture. I know I've talked a lot, but I think you're quite wise. It's only that even the wisest of us can always still learn something new by hearing someone else's perspective."

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

On New Year's 2024 I vowed to myself that I'd be more productive than ever, streamlining all of my ideas and making a decent living on commissions. While doing that I figured I'd keep my creative muscles limber by posting the occasional DUDEL or Sketch BOOM every now and again. Now chances are these won't be a daily thing. There'll be some days when I'm just feeling too bushed to scribble my silly ideas down on paper or I'll be too busy binging the likes of Steven Universe or Burn Notice. Yes, I am fully aware that those two shows make for a weird combination. Just imagine Michael Westen trying to help out the Crystal Gems, I'd totally watch that. Then again, I have a weird imagination as this DUDEL is about to illustrate.

Christopher Robin had many companions living in the Hundred Acre Woods. Though perhaps none plushy pal holds as special a place in his heart as his dear friend Edward Bear, or Pooh for short. Pooh was not a bright bear. Solving complex equations or discuss the philosophies of Plato were of little use to one who has fluff where his brains would be. Luckily brains aren't required to be intelligent. Old Edward more than made up for this when it came to his immensely large heart. Weather is was protecting his pal Piglet from Jagulars, helping his friend Eeyore find his tail, or simply bouncing around with Tigger, Eddy was the bear everybody turned to. Including Matt Whimsy, the animation magician of Hollywood responsible for Freddy and Fiona Fox. He and his animation team at Whimsy Studios adapted the classic tales of this lovable teddy bear into a series of movies over the years that have outlived A.A. Milne, Matt Whimsy, and even Christopher Robin himself. Now today fans of the characters can meet them at Whimsyland in California whenever not riding Edward's Excellent Expedition, helping the gang from the woods find the fabled North Pole!

Maybe I can help them find it after completing an entire Sketch BOOM. This was meant to be the start of one right up until Rosie Stardust foiled my plans. Dang that Cosmic Cutie and her alien design! Having said that, expect more from my multiversal adventurer later. For now I couldn't let a good design go to waste. What prompted me to draw this was Whimsyland, my answer to the question of what is Brooklyn Nine Nine took place at a theme park instead of a police precinct. Realizing I needed more recognizable characters for this fictional park, I decided to go with the ones that were thankfully in the public domain. Really the challenge was coming up with a design that wasn't similar to those used my a certain company, which I think I succeeded in doing. What helped was going back to the original designs by E.H. Shepard and keeping to the simplistic mindset. My biggest hurtle was Pooh's attire since, despite wearing one in the original freak'n book, I couldn't dress him in a tiny red shirt. So instead I settled on a scarf to fit with his adventurous life style. Here's hoping we'll see more of Old Eddy, Piglet, and Tigger in the future. For now-

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

PS: Oh, you noticed the logo on the bottom, did you? We'll talk about that later...

[tsui-no-sora]

Nooo :(( why do people dislike Jiang Cheng he's literally just a little guy full of problems he and his siblings were born on a sewer underneath a bridge all on their own one lonely night full of storms he's like an injured cat you find on the side of the road he's never done anything wrong

[archonadeptus]

A smaller you

A/N: This was a request I got via dm! Thank you so much for requesting, I really do hope that this is okay!

Tag for notif: @stygianoir

Summary: Xiao, Scaramouche, Albedo & Venti having a bigger height difference with their s/o!

Xiao

Everybody knew that their adeptus was smaller in height but nobody exactly dared to bring it up to him or tease him about it. In all honesty he hated looking up at people all the time but pretty much everything changed when he met you. Finally someone he didn't have to crone his neck up to look at! His amusement was short lived though as every fiber of his being felt the need to protect you a little more than the others, especially once you both grew closer to one another. On your weekly visits to him up in Wangshu inn,you Struggled to even get a book off of the top shelf... How on earth could you deal with battle alone, especially against bigger and taller opponents? He didn't doubt your powerful abilities in the slightest though... This new attitude purely stemmed from the desire to protect you.

Finally finding enough Crates to stack on top of one another, you began to climb them within high hopes that you'd reach the required ingredients to create Xiao's favourite dish. However... Nothing really seemed to be going your way that day as you reached your arms out for the box of desired ingredients only to feel the crates beneath you wobble and fall. This was going to hurt… 

"Y/n!" Xiao's familiar voice filled the air as he sped toward you and the newly created mess. Of course he had caught you in time... He had to Keep an eye on you - he didn't exactly trust anybody else to protect you as well as him. He was an Adeptus afterall. "What were you trying to do? Mortal bodies are fragile…" He gently set you down back on your feet with a soft sigh. "...You're fragile." Without much warning, a soft kiss was placed on top of your head. It was something he loved doing - a small act of affection he could easily give to your smaller self. 

"Sorry love." Your warm smile always managed to heat his cheeks up, it was something that you found adorable but even after Several confessions of love from both sides - he was still easily flustered. "I just wanted to make you a little Something…" He instantly peaked over at the ingredients You had risked injury for.

"Almond Tofu...?" You just nodded and laughed a little, "Then I suppose I'll need to protect you wont I? If you can't get to a shelf… Then I'll be here."

Expect So many head kisses, and he adores occasional hugs where he can hold you against his chest to keep you Safe. Don't tease him too much about being the perfect height to hear his rapid heartbeat during these hugs though. He might not recover from his red face too soon if you were to do that.

Scaramouche

Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, he's Strong, deadly, powerful and though he'd never actually admit it - he's head over heels for you. How couldn't he be? You were smaller compared to him and at first sighting of you he didn't really bat an eye over the height difference You both shared. However, now you're both together? It's become very noticable to him and he absolutely adores it when you're by his side. Why do you think he drags you along to all of the Fatui meetings he has to attend? To show you off? Yeah, pretty much. The way you stand protectively beside him never fails to make him melt and he's Pretty quick to threaten Childe if he begins insisting that you stand by him instead. Everybody finds you adorable and that's what makes him so keen to keep you beside him. 

"Another meeting?" You had asked, standing to go and Speak with Scaramouche properly. "What could it be about this time?" He shrugged before pulling you close to his side.

"I believe it's a summary of everything from the past few meetings we've had." You sighed at his response but that just made him Smirk a little at your attitude. He had always adored the way you challenged him. Afterall, nobody else dares to challenge him but you

"Do we really have to go? It feels unnessercery." His arm suddenly leant on top of your head, that Smirk of his still evident upon his face only growing at the sight of your displeased expression from his actions. 

"Mhm. Final one so don't be too upset. I'll be sure to make it up to you okay?" With a reluctant nod you pushed his arm away from resting on top of your head. Though he couldn't help but catch Your hands and lean in for a light kiss. He adored nothing more than tilting your head up to gaze at him before stealing a kiss from you. You being smaller than him certainly had its perks and he adored every single part of you.

"Alright but I'll be holding you to that... Besides, why do I have to go again?" You paused for a moment before looking back up at him with a grin. "You just want to 'show me off' again don't you?" Scaramouche said nothing in return, only placing his hat firmly back on and turning away rather quickly. 

"Come let's go. We won't be late… We'll get there before he does… Thinking he can try to flirt with you. Hmph."

Be prepared for him to lean on you a lot! If it truly does Irritate you though then he'll probably Switch to another annoying habit. Pick one of them Wisely! He's also one to tilt your face up to him to steal a kiss or to ask a question of some sort. He adores the way your cheeks glow red at his touch even after all this time… 

Albedo

The Chief alchemist for the Knights of Favonius, artistic, knowledgeable and powerful with what he's able to create. Everything may intrigue him in one way or another, but things took a more interesting turn when he met you. You were smaller than him, yes, but he found it rather... adorable if he would say so himself.

He absolutely adored the height difference between you both, if anything it allowed him to lift you into his arms more often and hold you closely against his chest. What's that? You want to help him with an experiment of his? You've just gotten yourself one very happy and in love Albedo.

"You... Want to accompany me while I experiment? I'm honored." His smile would reach his eyes instantly as he takes your hands in his own, bringing you over to his current rather worrying looking experiments. Chuckling slightly at the glimpse of worry in your eyes, he'd press a kiss to the top of your hands to soothe you "Oh, don't be nervous. My experiments may be dangerous, but no one gets hurt… most of the time." He laughed lightly as he began to pour some newly formed liquids together, smiling at you comfortingly. He soon handed you the beaker he was holding, a lid firmly on top. "Here shake this and pour it onto these dying flowers." Nodding a little, you'd shake the beaker and do so as instructed and reach across the table to pour it. 

"What does it do?" You had found yourself asking as the dying flowers began to sparkle and had life poured back into them at a rapid pace. "Ah... It revives them?" He hummed a yes to your verdict, gently pulling your shorter self against him. 

"Precisely... And with a little more research I'm certain it could revive living beings, especially with help from my most beloved assistant." A kiss was soon placed on top of your head which made you melt before him. Those flowers were soon bundled together and placed in your havel s. "Here, these are yours now! Now this is momentarily complete... Let's take a break so that I can sketch this beautiful scenery before me." He'd breathe out slowly, practically embracing the moment he's sharing with you whilst gazing into your eyes. "Ah, what a beautiful view."

Albedo will now focus on experiments that he's certain you'll enjoy and want to assist him on! He'd always make sure you'd be in front of him as he can easily reach over you and me can protect you this way from experiments gone wrong. Forehead kisses are a given and he'd have sketchbooks full of you, he won't ever get bored of drawing you. Please get this boy more paints, he's running out.

Venti

Ah, Venti the bard! The beloved anemo archon throughout Mondstat. When he first laid eyes upon you he couldn't help but make a few little jokes  at the height difference between you both. This did however cause him to get lightly kicked a few times but it didn't exactly stop him as afterall he adored getting all and any attention from you. Once you had both fallen in love though things were even better, though I do hope you're gotten acquainted with the wind as he's sure to fly you up the windrise free to share a few of his favourite ciders and share a few tunes with you.

"I have decided to write a song about you!" He'd pause for a moment to study Your expression, only to let out a series of gentle giggles. "What are you giving me that look for? Can't afford it?" He hummed as you huffed a little, allowing your legs to swing back and forth from the sturdy free branch you were both Sat upon. "Don't be preposterous, the price for you my love is precisely Zero Mora!" His hand would sneakily meet yours on top of the tree branch causing your cheeks to heat up a little bit. " Although... one thing you could do is tell me a few more of your stories!" Venti always adored hearing Your tales about your perspective of the world, especially about how big some bosses appeared to be. but that was just down to your height. A lot of songs he had written and performed around Mondstat were actually from your adventures. 

"I'm unsure if I have any new ones as of yet!" You laughed lightly at his pleading expression before it rapidly changed into  more of a determined one. What in Teyvat was he planning now?

"This simply won't do... Come my Small melody! We must set off for an adventure at once!" Without much warning the wind had lifted you up with core and began to lower you down back onto the grass with Venti soon following. "Where does your heart desire to go to, my windsong?" Chuckling lightly you gazed ahead of you at the rather alluring sunset.

"Just to starsnatch Cliff... I want my own mini adventure with you." His heart raced at your words causing a smile to appear on his face. 

"Then let's waste no time… The most beautiful song is about to be written after all."

Venti will create all sorts of loving nicknames for you, but his favourites consist of 'small melody' and his 'windsong'. He'll use his anemo powers to lift you gently into the air to hear your laughter which is the most adored sound to him. Be prepared to tell him all of your stories though it truly makes him feel closer to you and he loves any excuse to hear your voice.

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [1]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, mentions of alcohol, SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: 2.8k, half of which is probably filth

taglist: @from-xero

{this is a work of fiction}

"i'm sorry, i just... i just don't see you that way."

the boy tries his hardest not to choke (or sob) as he lowers his head, the bouquet of flowers in his hands crinkling when he brings it down to his side.

he huffs, using his tongue to poke the inner sides of his cheeks as his grimace pulls out into a smirk.

you look at him with utmost guilt, fingers awkwardly intertwined with one another as you scan the distraught on his face.

"so..." he slowly nods, looking up from the floor. "not even the most popular person on campus can win you over, huh?"

the label strikes a chord in you.

honestly, you were just waiting for him to say those words. you hadn't expected the campus star boy to confess to you tonight, much less at his own graduation party.

he was two years your senior and frankly way out of your league - leaving you with absolutely no clue how he came about to develop feelings for you.

you had wondered if he was merely capitalising on your growing reputation as the 'innocent heartbreaker'.

the pretty, new, freshman who just couldn't seem to stop heads from turning.

one of those heads was his.

wooseok scoffs, obviously unhappy and dissatisfied with your response.

how dare the pretty freshman reject the hottest boy on campus?

"okay," wooseok nods, still holding out the flowers to you. "at least take the flowers, would you?"

grimly picking the golden-wrapped roses from him, you scan his eyes, glossed with a layer of tears as his nose sours.

"wooseok-"

"no, don't," he interrupts you, sucking in a deep breath as he puffs out his chest. the yelling from outside his bedroom door calls the both of your attention.

"the party's still going on until morning, are you staying?"

with a light shake of your head, you hug the flowers close to your chest. your heart slows down, calming from the fact that he had brought you in here just to confess and not something else you were afraid of.

the guilt sinks in when you realise you didn't trust wooseok all that much.

"okay, well..." he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. the silver shine off the school's logo on the varsity jacket glimmers under the room's ceiling light. "at least stay until we finish the first bottle of vodka? we have games later."

"oh, wooseok, i can't-"

"come on," he reaches forward and grabs your hands, his hands hot and warm. probably from the adrenaline he had to give himself to make this feat. "the first bottle."

you look up from his fingers and at his face, his fringe covering his eyes and casting sharp-angled shadows all over his lids.

your lips part, but before you can even utter a sound, he hops right in and exclaims with a grin on his face. "great! i'll see you around and come find me when you're leaving, okay?"

the smile lines extend from the sides of his nose and down to his lips, the shadow lines on his cheeks shifting as he turns on his heels, hands sliding off yours.

"i'll-" he points to his door, already reaching for the handle. "yeah. bye."

wooseok pulls the door open for him to exit, and right before he can shut the door behind him, his eyes come between the gap to take one last look at you.

the door clicks shut after he moves off first, and you're left with the roses in your arms, standing in the middle of his room, having just rejected the most sought-after bachelor in the school.

looking down at the roses once more, your finger-pads rub against the velvet petals, heart aching for him.

the neon lights in his room were casting a bright blue hue all over the walls and the carpeted ground, trophies for baseball and customised bats decorating almost every corner.

you turn to his bed, thinking of leaving the flowers on the cushion and leaving quietly through his window.

but your train of thought violently snapped into two when the party outside yells, followed by the loud thunking of the bass throughout the house.

the flowers are a reminder of how shit of a person you are.

you didn't ask to be a heartbreaker.

people tend to think you find joy in rejecting the brave ones who get their feelings across but you don't. not at all.

carefully laying the bouquet of flowers back onto his bed, you pull the door of his room open and step out into the hallway, the music blasting like everyone was deaf and hard of hearing.

the crowd in the living room comes into view when you start walking down the stairs - everybody jumping on beat to the likes of superbass and people yelling the all-time classic rap.

your knuckles whiten from gripping onto the wooden railings, unable to return yourself to the party when you've done broken the heart of the host himself.

so you turn on your heels, deciding to return to his room and crawl out through his window - only to be met by someone else.

"party's downstairs."

if you were the innocent heartbreaker...

then eric son was the vicious one - the male, sluttier equivalent of you.

"oh, well... party's not for me," you offer a tiny smile, slightly embarrassed to be caught making a u-turn.

eric tilts his head to the side, holding out an arm and resting it on the wooden railings. you lower your head, taking a step to your left in a bid to walk past him.

but you're stopped yet again by his arm reaching out, palm pressing flat into the concrete as he looks down at you.

you don't realise your fists are clenched (and sweating) until you rub them onto your dress.

"look, eric- i- i had a bad day and i just-"

"so walk out the front door," he raises a single brow, taking a step down and removing his hand off the wooden railing.

your feet fumble around each other in a bid not to topple down the stairs. turning to face you, he forces you to step back to maintain the safe distance between you.

"i don't want to make a scene-" the bad habit of picking your nails returns when your back hits the wall, and eric's standing an uncomfortable distance from you now.

"oh," he lifts his free hand and mirrors the other, keeping your neck between his forearms. but you are the scene. you can't just... leave."

a flustered chuckle runs through your throat as you lean your head back against the wall. "i don't have the time for this."

"make time for me," eric cocks his head to the side and glances down near the bottom of your face. "you can tell me about your bad day."

"i think i'll be fine on my own, thank you," carefully squatting and trying to shrink out from the wall-eric sandwich, your brows furrow as you shift.

but eric son buckles his arm and halves the distance he has between your faces, the sudden surge forcing you back upright.

now his breath is hot on your jaw and you turn away from him, lips pursed into a thin, tight line.

"the 'innocent heartbreaker'," he gently hums, fingers reaching up to play with the curled locks fallen around your upper arms. the fleeting brushes of his skin across yours draw out chills, and a harsh inhale twitches your facial expressions to his liking. "i can see why boys would fall for this."

with your eyes still glued to the party downstairs, you part your lips, wanting to explain yourself.

then eric, with the weight of feathers, reaches up to your chin and tilts it towards him.

his lips are parted as he slides his tongue across his teeth. he sighs softly, eyes travelling from yours to your lips and back up.

by now, you can feel his breath on your philtrum.

"you're pretty," he whispers, almost against your lips.

and your stomach plummets when he pulls away completely, the cool air rushing in to replace the bodily heat.

without breaking eye contact, even for a single second, eric pushes himself off the wall. lips drawn out into a wide smile, he adjusts his jacket and runs his hand through his hair.

"but not that pretty."

you don't realise your heart's racing until you feel your chest heaving, unknowingly panting from the unruly interaction the vicious heartbreaker has just provided you.

the world finally seeps back into view and into complete perfect audio, the music finally rumbling through you again when your eyes trail after eric, walking into the crowd jumping in the living room.

the taste of iron seeps out from the inside of your lips, and you dart your tongue across the mark that your teeth have left on your flesh.

clearing your throat and shaking the thought of eric out of your head, you turn back up the steps and head back into wooseok's bedroom.

the blue hues of the room start to sink into your consciousness again, the yellow shade of the bouquet wrap looking more like green under the lighting.

you take a moment to fester - over wooseok, over your reputation, over eric.

college just started and here you were, feeling guilty over something that wasn't even your fault.

the final decision comes to rest on your fingers in the form of pulling wooseok's window open, carefully lifting your feet and crawling under the glass.

now, troublemaker was playing, muffled but definitely loud enough to be heard at least 3 houses down the road. you climb onto the roof of his garage, eyes scanning to cars parked outside and along the road.

you stride to the side where you know wooseok had a wooden plating attached to one of the walls, fake vines intertwined between the planks.

it's a relief when your feet meet the concrete ground, and nobody was in sight - until you back up into someone's chest and you turn to find eric, again.

"what in the world-"

he cuts you off by grabbing your waist, slotting his lips between yours and holding your chin to align your faces.

you were nearly bought into it, but the consciousness seeps back into you and you rip your face off his, palms one his chest with his hands still on your waist.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"i could ask you the same thing."

"you already know I'm leaving."

"you can't leave just yet."

"why the hell not?"

"because I'm not done with you."

with a low huff, he hoists you up onto his hips, lips crashing onto yours as he walks you backwards, your shoulder blades hitting the wall where you had climbed down from.

there's a gentle rattle when he keeps you up against the wooden planks, his palms riding the skirt of your dress up and over your hips.

his fingers slide under the material of your underwear hugging your pelvis, hot skin gripping onto the flesh of your rear.

then you hear a tear amongst the mess he's making on your lips, and the material of your underwear loosens.

"what the-"

"shh," he smirks, now turning his head into your neck to nip on your jaw. your chest heaves from the sensitivity, the fluttering sensation of his lips on your neck drilling chills all through you. "make a sound and everyone will know you couldn't say no to me."

conscience returns to you for a split second.

"eric- we can't-"

before you can finish your sentence, eric drags the thin material out from under you and dangles it before you, his eyes clouded and dark.

the darkened patch of material on your underwear washes your face in pink and heat.

"you were saying?"

your stomach plummets, and you now register the coolness on your core. eric smiles, rolling up the material to shove it into his pocket.

"eric-" your fingers dig into his left forearm as they return to the wall by your head, his right carefully undoing his belt.

the clink of the metal followed by the zipper coming undone forms a knot in your stomach already, then his fingers coming to spread your neediness all over you forces a sharp whimper up your lungs.

"I've done nothing..." he shakes his head, sliding a single finger up and down your core. "and you are so wet."

he lifts his finger from under your skirt, his fingers glistening under the sharp, fluorescent lighting.

your hooded lids are just about tearing with the overwhelming ache that's throbbing through you, and he makes it worse by running his tongue all over his finger.

eric's pride swells when a whine escapes your throat, and he presses himself into you, chest against yours with his hands digging into your thighs. your arms circle around his shoulders, pulling him closer for a deep, slow kiss.

he prods against you, the throbbing ache spiking when his manhood rubs against your core. groaning into the kiss, your entire being squirms between him and the wall with the muffled music still blasting from the living room.

he doesn't bother to wait for you before he finds his manhood and aligns it with your entrance, gently prodding before sliding himself in like it was meant to be.

he buries himself inside you by holding your thighs around his hips even tighter, drawing a low and prolonged moan from your lips.

eric pulls away, pressing his forehead into yours to let you breathe. but he finds some kind of sadistic pleasure when he pulls his hips away, only to slam right back in, earning a sharp yelp from you.

"go any louder, princess, and i won't be the only one enjoying this."

he grins to himself, licking his lips before diving into your neck and picking at all the right spots. every kiss and nibble earned him a moan or a mewl and it ruins your pride over and over to know that you had just broken someone's heart tonight.

yet you were outside that someone's house, letting eric rail you like he owned you.

your fingers claw and grip at his shirt as you feel your back jerk and rock against the wooden plank. with every thrust he offers you, he sounds like he's laughing and panting at the same time, the hot breath on your neck making you writhe in a guilty pleasure.

he offers a few slower thrusts before grabbing your chin to look at him, eyes slightly fucked out and your thighs tired from keeping your body locked to his.

slowly pulling out and sliding back in, he takes the time to revel in the way your brows furrow and your lips fall apart, your curled hair now a mess around your chest and shoulders.

"that's it, princess," he leans into your ear and coos. "tell me how good that feels."

unable to form a coherent word in your head, you whine in response, pulling his face to yours and planting your lips onto his with every ounce of energy left in you.

his hands fumble under your skirt and find your sensitivity, pressing his thumb flat onto you. the pressure jerks you upwards and he takes the opportunity to reposition himself, changing the angle ever so slightly.

by some miracle, the tip of him buried inside you finds the magic spot, and when he picks up his pace, the knot starts to find you in eternal bliss.

eric pulls away again, huffing as he thrusts himself into you, fingers flicking and abusing you as if your legs weren't already shaking and convulsing around his hips.

"good girl," his breath is heavy on your jaw as he plants a few wet kisses there, his pants bringing you to some newer heights. your vision starts to fade into white with a few more thrusts and his fingers dig into your thighs when your lower body starts to spasm.

muscles flexing, your entire body squirms and trembles as you meet your high.

then eric hurriedly pulls out, the hot fluid dribbling all over the ground under you.

while you come down from your high, eric's strained grunts rumble through his torso under your arms. the vein that popped out on his neck was still there, and your senses only allow enough for you to focus on eric now.

he bites on his bottom lip and pushes his hair back with a deep inhale. he turns to you, eyes wide open and clear.

"not such an innocent princess now, are you?"