#besides my beloved mutuals say more than i could

[wirtsroom]

might start up a mario sideblog. im getting nuts about it again. i just. dont have energy these days to write out what i want

#besides my beloved mutuals say more than i could #Well i mean aside from when i rambled on mario sex. I mean thats just what u get w me #wirt scrambles

[chrollohearttags]

kinktoberfest • reiner braun

show: attack on titan

kink: foot play

word count: 2.0K

content + themes: foot job, toe sucking, perv reiner, football player rei, tit fucking, mutual masturbation, cumshot

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.

if he had seen one, he’d seen them all…tall, short, dark and bright, cute and ugly…suede and leather? Some would assume that he was referring to the types of women he had come across in his lifetime but that was the furthest thing from. Especially at the moment..as he sat in the shared master bedroom of the two story mansion you called home. Releasing heavy sighs whilst watching you toss out this pair of Manolos and that pair of Louboutins behind you from the massive walk in closet. To say he was growing weary would be an understatement. He had been there for what felt like hours, watching you try on a plethora of shoes and dresses. It was rather daunting but for his beloved wife? He’d do practically anything!

“Rei!” “Yes, sugar? What is it?” “What do you think of these?”

Reiner Braun: five time Heisman winner, all star quarterback and world famous football star..dwindled down to glorified styling assistant as his wife, (y/n) tried on what had to be the fiftieth pair you’d come across. The occasion? An upcoming charity banquet hosted by a bunch of celebrities and Reiner happened to be one of the guests. In truth, he couldn’t wait for it to be over so all of this could cease. “They look good, poundcake. I like them.” However, there was a bit of a positive to this whole ordeal..you looked stunning in those shoes. Something about watching you strut about in those stilettos was..rather sexy. He’d never admit it, out of fear of sounding like an absolute freak but he’d love nothing more than to have you pressing that heel to the center of his chest or have it dangling over his shoulders right now. Just then, you’d take a seat in front of him, plopping down in the chair. Keeling over in frustration..

“What’s the matter? They all look great. No need to be upset, sugar.”

“I know and that’s the problem. I’m never going to be able to find the perfect pair.”

folding your arms and releasing a heavy winded sigh, (y/n) tossed your head back and glared up at the ceiling. You were so incredibly frustrated but in his eyes? You were making a fuss about nothing! What was the big deal anyways? You’d be wearing a long gown that was certain to have all eyes on you regardless so why would they matter? “For God sakes, babe. It’s just a pair of shoes. What could be so important?” However, if only he knew..he would’ve kept his damn mouth shut and not asked that! Rising straight back up, Reiner was met with a rather cross glare. See, being the star..he never had to worry about those sorts of things. All eyes would be on him regardless and everyone would love him either way. It was the wife who’d be nitpicked apart for every little detail. It didn’t help the fact that you didn’t exactly look like the rest of the stereotypical trophy spouses either so they’d be grasping at straws by now. “Are you kidding? I wear something out of style or the wrong color and they’ll grill my ass. One wrong outfit and I’ll be labeled as the girl who can’t dress.”

honestly, he thought it was hilarious! Making all of this fuss about this when your entire closet costs more than most people’s rent. Besides, you had impeccable taste. Even so, he’d never be able to convince you otherwise. So rather than listening to you bellyache and gripe about absolutely nothing of importance, Reiner simply dredged your legs up to his laps and placed your feet in the center of it. In one fell swoop, he’d drag the plush chair towards him and bridge the gap between you. “You wanna know what I think? I think that you need a break..” “b-but!—“ “But nothing, sugar. We still have four days. I’m sure you can find something then. If not, go buy a new one. Hell, go buy fifty if it’ll make you happy. But stop worrying that pretty little head of yours, okay?” It was so like him..so typical of this man to talk you off of the deep end when you were freaking out. Whilst you were in the middle of your rant, he was discreetly removing that current pair and massaging your rather sore soles instead. Trying on twenty plus pairs consecutively would make anyone’s feet hurt. Although, that wasn’t his entire reason. There was a bit of underlying selfishness to it as well..

“You’re right, papa. I’m sorry..it’s not that serious.” Chuckling to himself, Reiner continued kneading his fingers into your flesh, trying to relax those tendons. As he did so, he’d also bring your ankle and instep to his lips and place soft pecks on both. “That’s my girl..” but he didn’t stop there..he couldn’t even if he wanted to. And you didn’t exactly want him to either. On top of those long legs being accessorized with those cute shoes, you were sporting nothing more than a tiny lace teddy and to his surprise…with no panties on either; catching faint glimpses of that unsheathed little slit. Just then, a light grunt would arise from his throat as your legs parted slightly once again. Especially when he heard a whimper leave your throat as well.. “..that actually feels really good.” You most certainly needed it with the way they had been feeling. He’d press his fingertips into the curvature of your foot, wrinkle your toes and even rub up to your calves. The two of you sat there with the bridge between your bodies growing much smaller. His stubble grazing your skin and that gold anklet with his name engraved on it. By now, he had practically spread you open without you so much as even realizing and to your shock..

“..I can tell.” It was so blatantly obvious by the coat of slick on your mound and protruding clit. He would like to think you chose this particular attire on purpose but either way, he wasn’t mad..not in the slightest. The funniest part was that you didn’t try to deny it. Maybe you were equally as perverse as he was but you didn’t go get those expensive pedicures every other week and get those cute little toenails doused in white just for show…you got them done so your husband could have them in his mouth while he deep stroked you later that night! With deviant glares shrouding both of your faces, Reiner continued his onslaught of tender kissing of your ankles and toes, even flicking his tongue across them whilst looking directly into your eyes. He was intent, focused and determined to get you loosened up, which seemed to be working by the looks of it. Just that quick, you had managed to get him equally aroused; spotting an unmistakable bulge in his gray sweatpants. His shirtless torso showing off those impeccable abs. Cradling your foot with one hand, akin to the way he’d done those footballs previously, he began lacing them with sloppy pecks before placing them in his mouth and suckling. The glare in those beautiful brown eyes of yours told it all:

“…shit..Rei.” Causing you to squirm in your seat, attempting to feign off those pangs of pleasure but all you’d end up doing was rutting yourself against the cushion..furthering your desire. But just as you did so, you’d feel that imprint underneath your opposite foot grow larger, practically swelling. When he had a woman this beautiful, it took next to nothing for his dick to get hard. Especially when you were into the same taboo quirks he was.. “..play with yourself.” Muttering in that grovely tone. Only repeating it as he glided his tongue up the side of your instep and nibbled at your ankle once more. “Play with that pussy f’r me. And don’t take that foot off of me either. Keep it right there.” Absolute in what he said, you’d follow his command; slowly removing your breasts from the top of that ensemble and lifting the bottom portion to expose your heat to the cool air. Those nipples were super erect and that cunt was dripping. Kneading your fingers into those round, juicy tits..(y/n) brought them up to your mouth and began suckling those stuff buds whilst rubbing on your clit. He could hear that slick being drummed up and it sent your husband into a tailspin. He was so horny right now, it made no sense. It was taking all of his restraint to not put you on this floor, pin you down and drill your shit right here. But alas, this was a little more fun. The constant teasing, the subtle foreplay and mutual freakiness between you two. Who else would be into something like this? Massaging those fingertips over your parted plumpness, you’d toss your head back; titties swaying as you impaled yourself on those digits..bouncing up and down on them, hoping to have them replaced with his thick cock soon. For now, you’d allow him to continue savoring your toes and enjoying his rather peculiar and taboo fetish; pedaling the opposite foot against his hard on. Grunting and moaning, Reiner promptly shuffled that elastic waistband down until his entire erect sprang forth. It was swollen..all eight and a half inches standing at attention and seeping with precum; apparent by the formed stain on his pants. That mushroom tip beaming red and ready to use something to relieve that pressure. He’d immediately wrap that palm around his shaft and begin stroking. Softly shuffling it up and down from the base to the tip; smacking those full balls in the process. He shouldn’t have been this aroused by your feet of all things but his infatuation with you ran throughout the entire body. That was the effect you had on him. You’d continue bringing yourselves to the edge. “Fuck..got me so hard right now, sugar. I don’t know what to do..look what you did to me.” That mischievous chuckle and grin returned as he watched you grinding on those digits, wishing they were the real thing. The power you held over him was insurmountable. Still working yourself over, you’d giggle as well, whining so helplessly.

“Fuck..get on your knees, baby. Get on your fucking knees..”

hissing through gritted teeth as he ushered you to the ground. Reluctantly removing your toes from his mouth. With those breasts still unclothed, Reiner positioned you before him; resembling an obedient little slut, he’d impatiently grope your tits..maneuvering until his cock was nestled between them and he’d make haste in fucking them. Bucking his hips forward, Reiner growled whilst using your flesh to his satisfaction. Pumping himself through the tight confines of those squeezed breasts. Utilizing his own precum as lubricant to make it easier to push through the tightly formed orifice. To say your husband was losing his mind may have been a gross understatement. After working himself over, you’d notice that his breath was beginning to falter and his strokes became uneven..a sure fire signal that he was growing closer. It wouldn’t be long before he began to twitch. You’d press your hands to the sides of your chest, closing the gap and making it more compact..thus prompting him to come..

“Nut on them, baby. Go ahead, let it out.” Even extending your tongue and closing your eyes to prepare for it. Only seconds later did you feel him come to a halt and hear a loud grunt leave his throat. It was then that you’d feel the damp warmth splattering all over your tongue, face and tits; painting you with every droplet of his cum. Grasping your chin, Reiner then placed a gentle kiss atop your forehead, amid the laughter that followed from the two of you.

“That was fun.”

“Yes it was..thank you sugar.” Swiping the remnants from your eyes. It hadn’t even dawned on either of you that you had just gotten off in the most strange of ways. But it could be your dirty little secret..no one had to know.

#kinktober #kinktober fic #kinktober drabble #aot x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #black reader smut #reiner braun smut #reiner x black reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x y/n #reiner x reader #plus size reader #aot au #reiner snk #reiner smut #reiner #aot reiner #snk drabble #snk smut #aot smut #attack on titan reiner #snk reiner #black reader fan fiction #reiner x y/n #snk x black reader #snk x reader #cw smut

[sungbeam]

spread some love !

talk about your favourite mutuals and why you like them

hi anon! thanks for sending this in :') im always so bad at posting these things, but i can def do this one. i don't know if i would classify them specifically as favorites, but more so people i've interacted with the most 😭

@justalildumpling : i don't even need to go on besides saying that this woman is my soulmate. "in another life" but we're gonna beat the universe and meet in every life, type of connection. the girl who has seen me at my worst and has still treated me with as much kindness and compassion and care as she did the first time. i feel like in certain ways, we're kind of polar opposites, but also the same? i mean, on paper we can be so different, but when we talk abt what we like and dislike, when we laugh together, it all becomes something of the same and she restores my faith in other people again. she's the person who constantly makes me want to be a better person.

@ethereal-engene : one of my two beloved 姐姐's on this site skfnrknf but i remember talking to ash so many nights abt just any and everything. i am so happy that we're comfortable enough to be able to joke around, share our niche interests, have deep conversations, and even pen pal!! like i think it's crazy how SIMILAR our families are; we could legitimately be long lost sisters haha but also the blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb sometimes, so that makes sense. she's one of my comfort people, and honestly, i feel like we both come out of nowhere with some topics, but either person will hop right into the convo regardless and just vibe 🤧

@winterchimez : my second 姐姐 on this site !! my older sisters def take care of me well and i am so grateful for that :')) ally is always so supportive and yet so energergizing to talk to. she's def seen a lot of my brainstorming and i feel very comfortable bouncing ideas off her. she's always so generous with me too, like care packages??? RAH 😭 obviously, i love her for reasons besides the material goods, but it's a love language nonetheless. ally is prob one of the warmest and most welcoming presences on this hellsite tbh, so if ur ever looking for a new friend/mutual, she's the best.

@loveliestfelix : nana is another reason why im still around. i like to thank that beomgyu drabble every day for kickstarting our friendship because i have never met someone i have had such lengthy and fun brainstorming sessions with. nana is the type of person i would love to meet irl and just share stories over coffee with, though i feel like i always associate her with train rides and coffee now HAHA she's also one of my greatest writing inspirations, like i was and have always been blown away by her mind, and her word counts. i love calling her the queen of angst, and you will never be disappointed when reading something of hers.

@jaehunnyy : chip's been here for a really long time, like guys, no one can compete when she's been here since i had park jisung as my pfp and she had jeno as hers 😭 i think i really treasure our friendship and how much it's grown over the past two years :')) so much has happened over that time, and i think that if i met her in real life, i would just be blown away by how pretty she is like TT anyways,, i always love talking to her because of how much chaotic energy we create when we do, like i feel like we can power an entire city grid with how much chaos we make, and it's all the better for it. i love her very much, and i hope she understands just how wonderful of a person and friend she is.

@mosviqu : oh, my beloved bar, i love u to bits and pieces. i think recently you've become one of the few reasons why im still here writing and posting. like i am so utterly, from the bottom of my heart, grateful for all of your support and the love you've given and shown me. and even when we moved to dms to converse, i just realized how cool you are as a person, and how similar we are (in the best way possible). it's really nice to be able to connect with a person on multiple levels, and im really happy that was the case with us :') as soon as i saw ur love for tomorrow by chanyeol, i knew there would be something more to our friendship. i am so very fond of you, and your writing blows me away every time i read it.

@zzoguri : moni :( i hope ur doing well, friend, and i know you haven't been active here lately but i do wish you all the best. i love how passionate and committed you are to improving in writing and developing your own creative writing style, and it's so impressive to read your writing in general :') i love the confidence you advocate for yourself, and how real you are. thanks so much for being a friend; i just really appreciate all the support and hype you've given me during my time on deobiblr, like thank you for being such a thoughtful person.

@wuahae : cat and i have definitely interacted more off this site than on this site, but i felt that it was dire she was included here nonetheless. like bro, thank you for literally being the reason i come out of my apartment (or in most cases, invite people to my apartment), and for thinking of me! i think i once told you how hard it is to find friends in college, but you've made my experience here far less lonely. i love getting dinner with you, planning outings, and making weird animal noises together on the streets 😭 also, cat's writing is literally so poetic, and just her explaining to me her plot ideas tears visceral reactions out of me TT

@yunhoszn : i feel like me and fawn are low-key on the same wavelength a lot of the times, but in general, i think fawn's just such a rad person. i've told her once or twice before but i genuinely love her writing style because it has so much personality in it. it just makes reading her fics such a fun and enjoyable experience. also even off this site, i have so much fun interacting with her, like just commenting on her instagram posts like the gremlin i am, i know she's gonna hit me with the best response back skfnkejd (waiting for the day i go to where u r so u can do my makeup low-key... ur so fly, pls do my makeup...)

@goldenhypen : em, my lovely twin :')) i know our interactions have def decreased, but i don't think that's decreased the fondness we hold for one another. i remember when em first started interacting with my works and then followed me, i literally rolled off the couch cuz i started fangirling 😭 and she is one of the most genuine and brightest presences here. she is a follow forever, bro, you better follow her forever. i just adore her compassion for others and her absolutely adorable fic concepts, and omg don't even get me started on her work ethic 😭 i wished u the best everyday you had requests, i don't know how u did it. you are literally superhuman.

@hqrana : i haven't spoken with noa in quite awhile, but im guessing it's cuz she's girlbossing her way through to that nursing program 🤧 my favorite woman in stem girl in this hellsite, she is my beloved xnonie 😭 i think i just appreciate noa's undeniable presence and character so much, like she brings so much energy to my inbox whenever she's here, and her support of my ideas and fics just makes me 🙇🏻‍♀️ like thank you for being here. and to know we both love marvel and taylor swift? i feel like she has to be like,, my best friend? like she needs to be my best friend?? sending hugs and well wishes your way, always.

#sungbeam strikes again #moot ❧ #lovely anon <3 #most of these people arent super active here anymore but love to them regardless

[philtstone]

Aditha/nandini jacket

AFTER A MILLION YEARS I FINIALLY FINISHED THIS set in this verse and a prequel to the silly asides in this fic. a mix of book and movie canon as usual! for those who responded to my wip poll im sorry i ignored literally all of your votes and instead worked on "in which vandiyadevan is trapped in the toilet" but it ended up working out for everyone (me and the 2 mutuals reading this) so whos laughing NOW anyway apologies in advance for any cultural errors or general incoherency; its one in the morning and maya is in a different time zone. i had to google things! also none of this is serious. enjoy!

Evening is cooler than Nandini expected.

After the tumultuous heat of Poonghuzhali’s van, and the station, and the day, and the week — well, she did not anticipate shivering in the dark outside this dormitory. The leather motorcycle jacket she so pointedly wore in the blistering sun now, a week later, lies untouched beside her. They have had three stare-offs in the last twenty minutes, she and the jacket. She cannot bring herself to put it on; the idea leaves a queer feeling in her belly that she doesn’t care to examine. 

The dormitory itself is a relatively humble one, considering the wealth of its former occupant’s family. More a boy’s hostel than the kind of lodging the Cholas might secure for their most beloved child. Arunmozhi seems completely unbothered by the state of it. He grins widely at the orange toned walls, scuffed, and the low doors, slamming open and shut at intervals (though less now, so late into the night), and the general ruckus of the boys who greet them. They were all but cheering in welcome of their former dorm mate and his mismatched band of traveling companions, needing a place to avoid the authorities and – impossibly – his Uncles’ and her fathers’ spies, last minute. There was a lot of hugging that went around, at any rate. It’s not quite an elder siblingish relationship, Nandini thinks, though she is absurdly then struck by the question of whether the benign, chummy, kindly way Arunmozhi interacts with the younger boys is patterned after the way his own — that is to say, he has an older br — oooh.

Nandini does not want to think about it.

Just as well, because she’s many other, marginally less useless things to think of.

She is thinking of these things quite obsessively, in matter of fact. Scientific observation would suggest a verge on neuroticism. So it goes in Nandini’s head: oh, Lord, My Mother. She is Here. I’ve met Her. She is Alive after all, and so Beautiful, and so Fucking Weird. 

(The capitalizations are quite manifest in her own thoughts). 

If anyone else were to say the last she’d box them, but God it is true, and Nandini is nearly brought to happy tears by the realness of her mother’s strangeness. Her mother is exactly the same height as she. Her ears are not pierced. She favours her left leg, while Nandini favours neither, but when she walks she sways her hips in much the same way Nandini does when she is not thinking about it. She has hair which is nearly the same length and weight and texture, and it curls around the ears such that it must tickle – Nandini has much experience with this. Her mother’s fingers taper off as hers do; the nail beds are the same; her mother’s chin dimples against her neck in a way Nandini has always felt insecure about in herself. They have a mole in the same spot on their arm; Nandini’s left toe has a bunion near identical to the left toe of her mother; the bottom row of her mother’s teeth lay the same; her mother’s breasts are not very small, but not overly large either, and sit in the same position Nandini's do; her cheeks possess vestiges of the same roundness; her elbow wrinkles in the same way; her eyebrows are a bit unkempt in the middle, like Nandini’s were when she was a child and could not be bothered with their upkeep.

How strange it is! To see your own face so clearly in another. The slope of her nose — the curve of her mouth — the way her hair falls. Nandini wonders if this is what she will look like when she is old. She wonders if she is what her mother looked like when she was young. Surely the answer is yes. They are now inseparable in her mind, she and her mother, and it is overwhelming. She does not even need a father anymore; he has been axed from the equation. She has a mother. She knows her mother! 

And when she saw her mother for the first time, cheerfully led out of the very mundane, uninspired Thanjai local jail, her mother knew her. Nandini had stood, transfixed, as Mandakini had touched her gently on the cheek, just so, and began to cry quiet little tears that slipped down her cheeks like they were the simplest thing in the world for her to give, to feel, to shed.

Nandini has always hated crying. Real crying, anyway; she is an expert fake crier, as anyone successful in the world of Tamil soaps must be. But real crying is snotty and uncontrollable and undignified. 

Nandini thinks (she has been thinking all evening – it is really getting to be bad for her health) that is what makes her mother at once so unfamiliar, too.

There is so much tenderness in her face. Even without words (Nandini is so very good with words, honeyed and poisoned and flat and querulous, even, rarely, honest) her mother tells the world of her love. For her daughter (who craves it so badly); for Arunmozhi (who despite Nandini’s earliest assumptions seems to know he must earn it, however freely it is given); for simply living, it seems. Nandini cannot understand this last part. Life has been on whole pretty miserable, for her mother. What right does it have to her love? 

Nandini does not think she could ever love like that. 

She’s seated and steeped in these ruminations on the topmost step of the dusty concrete facing the dormitory courtyard; behind her must be the toilets, for there is a light on inside one of them, and in front of her is a small garden decorated with scraggly trees which housed the mango-stealing monkey who had earlier been tormenting the dorm’s inhabitants, and a little walking path. Earlier, in the dark, she saw Arunmozhi and her mother (her mother!) start off on a little walk along the path. She supposes it does make sense; they have not seen each other in a while, and he has explained to her how Mandakini saved him from that lake, and that rickshaw, and also his own slippery bathtub once in this very same dorm. They’re old pals: Nandini knew this going into the venture. He knows sign language and everything, and can communicate with her far better than Nandini can. So it makes sense that they must now catch each other up – she on why the police inspector was bribed to arrest her (this is still a little muddy) and he on his future career plans (vague) and current family business rescue plans (hairbrained and relying too much on the goodwill of Nandini herself, if she’s being honest). But watching them go, arm in arm, signing animatedly at one another left a strange ache in her heart. That was a while ago. Bits of the yard are illuminated by the light from one or two dorm windows, but on whole, it is past curfew, and therefore dark; Nandini is more or less alone with her thoughts and also the noise from the city beyond the wall. 

Being alone, she has spent the last thirty seconds staring sightlessly at some invisible point in front of her, eyes the size of saucers, spiraling.

“Erm – ahem.”

Nandini startles so badly her bangle-clad wrist nearly knocks into her own nose.

Aditha Karikalan has never been particularly tall. When they were teenagers there was a brief month where she had an inch on him. Right now, however, he stands above her such that she has to look up, and once more notice the fact that he does carry himself with a kind of dignified height. Which Nandini appreciates. Or did appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. The last week has been quite a lot of everything. He wears a loose linen button down in a bright orange pattern open over a t-shirt, and a simple dhoti clumsily tied (she remembers the rare time he wore one in school, when they weren’t wearing their uniforms, she had helped him tie it), and sandals, and his wrists are sporting a nice fancy watch but they’re also covered in enough bead bracelets that, paired with his hair – unruly and wild and long as ever – he really does look far more the part of children’s camp counselor than first son of any kind of business mogul-cum-politician. 

Which Nandini appreciates. Or could appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. A week ago, she would have very deliberately said, well, and what does a camp counselor make, anyway – I want to be a Bollywood actress, and glared him down out of spite. 

The last week really has been a lot of everything.

Anyway; she stares at him. Amidst her up-til-now very private spiraling.

Her mother her mother her mother her mother oh she is so known but so unknown oh they cannot love the same oh perhaps Nandini cannot love at all oh that must mean that must mean must it mean? that she, Nandini, well could she be broken is that what her mother sees surely she sees –

“I just – well. There’s the – the restroom is right there. So I’d come to …” And here Aditha stops his terribly uncomfortable and verging on comical awkward explanation, tilts his head – some immaterial spark of understanding happening in his sharp lovely eyes – and says, in an abortedly gruff tone that does very little to prevent what happens next,  “Nandini … are you – alright?”

Nandini, rather unexpectedly, begins blubbering. Loudly.

Her face crumples in on itself. Her shoulders hunch inward. Her nose gets snotty and her throat clogs up. And in general, she makes a very pathetic sort of hiccupy wailing noise, which she had not planned for.

“Shit,” says Aditha above her, after a moment of stunned silence. “Fuck, okay – Nandini? Well, you shouldn’t cry – come on, pull it together. The toilets are right there, look, someone’s even using them. Uh – well – alright, alright. It’s alright.”

None of his stammered, asinine condolences register much in Nandini’s ears. She is just very overwhelmed. It is only after a moment of her crying, sat on her rump outside the men’s toilets, that the stiff, chilly awkwardness of the night air changes, and there is a person quite suddenly beside her, and then not just beside her at all, but holding her – his arms carefully wrapped around her shoulders, his warm chest a perfect distance from her cheek, his large hands flattening clumsily over her back. Their knees bump together, and it isn’t very graceful at all – she refuses to move, so he must lean over ungainingly, and is probably quite uncomfortable doing it. 

Nandini cries into Aditha’s shoulder for five or ten minutes. He only pats her back stupidly once, at the start, and by the end of it, it is a proper embrace, and they are even rocking back and forth just a little.

It’s nice.

Presently, Nandini’s tears slow, and she registers the position she is in more properly. Whole-bodily, in fact. She had not expected that her body’s memory would slip back into this embrace so easily, and the realization is disquieting. She does not move, and Aditha does not move – she wonders if he is having the same panicked, wary thoughts – and so they sit in a stupid little impasse, hugging, for another two minutes. 

It’s getting to the point where she is noticing his cologne, so Nandini decides it is high time to pull herself together; she sits up, wiping at the snot on her face, and pretends her stomach is not in knots. A lopsided roll of toilet paper materializes in front of her nose. Oh – Aditha is holding it. She eyes it like a ticking bomb. It’s a bit squashed, like it was in his pocket. He must have brought it with him, earlier, which means he really did mean to use the bathroom, which means he hadn’t actually sought her out – 

Had he? He’s still holding her, sort of, and Nandini is terribly disoriented to realize that it is not an abhorrent sort of feeling, as she has very deliberately imagined it would be in the past, when hosting her more elaborate and vindictive daydreams in which she supposed they might reunite, not because she missed him badly but because she nursed ongoing fantasies of holy vengeance; all of those ended with her dumping a bucket of slop over his head. Instead, she has stopped feeling a decent measure of her earlier anxiety, and is breathing more normally now, and the rapidity of her thoughts have veered away from the breakneck pace of before. 

That could just be the crying. Her brother used to say that a tender weeping was good for one’s spirit. 

Nandini’s lip wobbles again; she misses Nambi, and is overwhelmed with a trickling feeling of shame – hadn’t she just left him, for so many months, and ignored all his overly-formal emails? 

The idea of emails makes her remember she has not sent a mildly threatening missive (subject line: I Know You Know Something About Mandakini Nolastname) from her ghost account to Sundura Chola in a while, and then that makes her think, well, it’s pointless now – her stalwart ally Arnunmozhi won’t have any reason to give her gently reproachful looks re: her long term haunting of his invalid father anymore – she’s found her mother – and then she is re-visited, very strongly, at once, by the dual reality of oh God her mother and oh God, Aditha is holding me.

Fuck, she needs to blow her nose.

“Here,” comes Aditha’s low voice, as though he’s read her mind. Which of course he hasn’t. But still. He tears off a piece of the toilet paper for her. Nandini trembles, and does not know whether she ought to lean in closer, or pull away entirely. She can feel his heartbeat against her shoulder, and while Nandini does not have a lot of experience with the biological sciences, it is beating rather more quickly than the average human heart ought to be.

“Oh,” she says, taking the tissue on autopilot. She dabs at her face, which must surely be smeared in kajol by now, and then her nose, which is probably ugly and red.

Good thing it’s so late at night.

After she’s done, because there doesn’t seem anything better to do – the alternative is getting up and fleeing, and Nandini is not a coward – she turns and stares at him.

Aditha clears his throat and scuffs one foot into the dirt at their feet, but he doesn’t look away. He’s grown a beard. She noticed this first thing last week. He never had one before.

“It’s just,” Nandini says, again on autopilot, “-- my mother.”

Ah, her mother. Poonghuzhali had demonstrated a very rare bout of tearful emotion and Arunmozhi his by now expected kindly friendship; Vandiyadevan had slipped her extra clementines after his grocery run and even Kundavai had been looking at her more gently than usual all afternoon. 

Until now, Aditha had been avoiding her. At her words his expression flickers, oddly, a shade of genuine concern colouring his face, before settling into something not quite effortless in its knowing but careful and gentle. She’d forgotten that he could look at her like that. It’s different now, just a little bit. The Look from before was more boyish, and the look now has a kind of sadness to it that makes it feel more real. Maybe it’s the beard. Unease fills her chest again, tenses up her hands. What must he be thinking? Why did he go about all day avoiding her? Alright, so she has also been avoiding him – all week now, to be sure – but – but –

“It must be really strange,” he says suddenly. His voice is deeper than before but not by much. She has not noticed this until right now, because they are sitting so closely and he is speaking quite softly. “Finding – finding someone who is so like you, all of a sudden.”

Whatever was on the verge of backflipping in the pit of Nandini’s stomach sours. Her chin trembles; she looks away. “I suppose.”

“Can’t really prepare for it, I guess.”

She sniffs. “I’ve been looking for months,” she says, more pointedly than perhaps she means. Looking does not equal preparation; the person she was in that Sri Lankan library was not entirely well, let alone prepared. Nandini is woman enough to acknowledge this. To herself, anyway. 

“It’s – it’s funny really,” he continues, deliberately gruff again, but not with the awkwardness of before; it’s more sincere now, roughened with honesty, yet in a way that is entirely oblivious to Nandini’s chin wobbles, “I can’t really understand what she’s saying half the time,” he rubs at his knee with one free hand, “but you know what I’ll tell you – I don’t think – well, I’ve never seen anyone with the same sort of sweetness in their face.” 

“As what,” croaks Nandini.

He looks at her strangely. Nightlife honks and buzzes past the dorm walls, cocooning them. “As you,” he says, like she is being stupid.

Nandini flushes deep from within. No – he must be lying. Hadn’t he called her a poisonous witch just last week? 

She supposes he must have meant that, but she knows Aditha well, and she knows when he is lying, even now – she has come to know, through many a painful altercation (the witch thing, and also she has threatened to kill him a few times) – and she resolves that whatever he meant last week, right now, he is also being honest. She feels somewhat dizzy. The urge to bolt is real. He, too, is looking a bit terrified, like maybe he did not exactly plan to say that in so many words, or maybe he had but now that it is out in the open he’s realizing it sounds a lot more – a lot more – than anticipated. 

“Have you really watched my show?” Nandini blurts out, more loudly than she means to. 

If Aditha’s eyes were wide already, they widen even further in alarm. This was a tidbit Vandiyadevan gave away two days ago; she thinks Aditha has still not forgiven him. He stammers,

“It was the only thing on TV,” with very little bravado. But then, before Nandini’s chest can deflate, as though shaking himself he says, more resolutely, “well, what was I supposed to do? That one scene of yours went viral on Twitter and the aunties at camp – who know very little about acting, may I add – just repeated what they read, blah blah blah like twittering little quails, but I am an educated person, Nandini, and a role model for children, and I have to investigate my news for myself –”

“Thank you for the tissue,” Nandini interrupts, because if she keeps her mouth occupied, then maybe that will quell its urge to spread into a large smile – maybe even emit a hysteric giggle or two – as if it’s forgotten that she only went into dead-end television acting in the first place because of the Veera Pandiyan scandal –

How much of that was really Aditha’s fault, though?

Nandini’s heart thumps rapidly. Now she’s really being crazy. Think of your mother again, girl. Go back to blubbering or something. Aditha blinks at her a few times. The light is pretty dim (they are lit from behind), but just enough that she can see the flush on his neck and ears. Have they been this close the whole time? 

“You – you were shivering when I got here,” he manages, instead of answering. “It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?”

Nandini is not shivering now. In fact, the place where his arm is still held against her back is so warm she thinks she could doze off in contentment just leaned up against him, if not for the fact that her stomach is doing gymnastics beneath the crop of her top. She nods anyway.

“I will be fine.”

“You should wear your jacket,” he says, roughly.

Nandini blinks. “Oh – no, I can’t. That’s yours.”

She isn’t looking for a reaction, per se; the words just sort of come out. She can very well see the bob of his throat, though, and the slight inhale he takes – his chest moves against her shoulder – before he says,

“Come on, Nandu, it was a gift.”

Nandini is overcome by a very strong urge to scream. Or swoon. If she had ever had reasons for wanting to kill him, she’s forgotten them just now. In fact it is very easy to forget the existence of everything around them – her lingering fragility about her mother, or the fact that they are right out in the wide open air, and there’s the real possibility that Kundavai of all bloody people will interrupt them. All these are things entirely immaterial, because unbidden her hand has moved up to press gently against Aditha’s chest, and she can clearly feel the rough pad of his thumb against the bare skin of her back, and they really are sitting so very close – a puff of his breath brushes against her cheek – and her heart goes thump thump thump thump so loudly she can’t really hear anything else.

His eyes have dropped to her mouth. “Nandini, love …” he starts, in a murmured, involuntary whisper.

Nandini tilts her head so very slightly closer …

Bang! 

If it is possible for two people to jump a foot apart while still being seated, Nandini and Aditha achieve this. Behind them, in the spilling light of the open bathroom door, lounges the person of Vandiyadevan, who is doing a very bad job at putting on suave and chill airs. Faintly, there is the sound of a toilet flushing behind him.

“No one could have guessed how badly this door sticks, eh?” he says loudly, holding up a roll of paper not unsimilar to Aditha’s. He tries and fails to adjust his footing, stumbling sideways a little into the door frame and then giving them both the finger guns. “Well! Beautiful night. Don’t mind me, carry on!”

“Vandiyadevan,” Aditha’s voice filters into her ears distantly, like it is coming from very far away. “How – long … have you been in there?”

“I was using the facilities! What, can’t a man take a piss after a long day’s honest espionage –? Ayyo! Wait, no, I promise I’m leaving!”

“That’s not the – we weren’t doing anything –!” Nandini hears Aditha splutter out in a strangled yell.

Which is just as well, too, because by the time he has turned back around, she is already gone, bangles clinking as she flees, scrambled away to hide behind the dark corner of the building’s edge, where stands frozen and with her eyes squeezed shut, while her errant, traitorous heart tries its damndest to beat right out of her chest.

#who cares about coherent plot when you can have lovers to enemies to lovers ft Theyre Both Idiots The Whole Run Of The Thing Too #lovenemidiots to lovers. even #ponniyin selvan #aditha karikalan #nandini #aditha x nandini #vandiyadevan #HOPE U LIKE IT MAYA #also in case it wasn’t very clear aditha and nandini have Never Kissed there are no two people on earth who radiate virgin energy more #i came so close to having aditha call nandini Nandi. SO close #the girls who get it get it…

[vampirepunks]

24 and 20 for Higgs 🖤

Bunny, my beloved!! 💛

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

I would say Fragile, but I personally characterize them as adoptive siblings, so it doesn't quite count. Thus, I present: Deadman! Imagine the tangents and intellectual debates. Deadman is the most understanding and open-minded towards Higgs and the Homo Demens out of all the Bridges members besides Sam, and I think that really lends an opportunity for them to click. In the novelization, Deadman's internal monologue has a few lines about the terrorists, where he observes to himself that violence is just another way of attempting to connect with people, and that speaks as to Higgs' behavioral issues in a really profound way. Also, Deadman and Higgs both have a history of feeling more connected to the dead than the living, are both "living dead" in a sense, and that's a potential point of mutual understanding. I think they'd be nerd buddies who could empathize with each other. Also, hugs. One of those real good Deadman bear hugs would be so healing for Higgs.

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

The Dark Urge from Baldur's Gate 3! I'm not sure if it counts 100% because Durge is a player-controlled character, but the origin story and redemption path really reminds me of Higgs. Durge is the "child of murder," handcrafted from the flesh of Bhaal, the assassin god of murder, and suffers from an insatiable urge to kill, maim, and inflict general violence/sadism on others, even if they don't want to. The intended destiny behind Durge's creation was for them to murder every living being, become king of a world turned graveyard, and then be the last sacrifice to Bhaal themselves. Really lines up with Higgs' role as herald of extinction, plus his secret killing habits to sustain his powers and his deeply personal connection to the dead. I played Higgs as Durge on my second run of BG3 and it was so gratifying. Romanced Astarion, so Higgstarion is a rare (er... I might be the sole person who ships this actually) cross-fandom ship for me. (Oop, here's my playlist for it.)

Character Ask Game

#bunny my beloved 💛💛💛 #logan answers #ask games #character ask game #higgs monaghan #death stranding

[myearts-uwu]

Me holding Myra in my hand with heart in my eyes: You're so BELOVED coded. BLORBO from my mutual.

Me squeezing her in my palm like a stim toy:I need to know more of misery. Tell me ab her worse moments. Absolutely horrible thing that happened to her.

hasdhfdsh AHHH IM SO HONOURED THAT MYRA IS UP IN THE BLORBO TIER LIST FOR YOU *offers you Myra as your free personal stress ball*

And oooooo worse moments!

Hmm... There's honestly quite a lot of bad moments for Myra in the AU!Jen au. Like certain losses and stuff...

But one moment I like to share is the moment she got uh... thrown into the jjk universe.

And the reason I say thrown is because she was quite literally thrown into a teleportation portal that could send her to any random universe.

After she got severely injured by some dude who did a number on her I mean, he stabbed her at the one moment she lowered her guard and not only that he completely destroyed her in hand-to-hand combat (he even yanked on her hair and threw her at a wall. How could he-)

Oooo and fun fact!

So in my AU, right? Besides Myra, there's this other OC, some man who also has puppetry powers just like her and the REASON why he and she (and a few others) have similar abilities is because they are *blessed* by some god or aeon or just a higher being (in ORV they're called constellations).

And this *god* who decided to bless these people? They also gave them certain *roles*.

So for this man, he's like... enforcing and making sure a person's *story* stays the same and makes sure there aren't any *anomalies* interfering with their fate, especially when it comes to their death. So basically he's more of a "Follow the story even if it kills you in the end" kind of guy.

And guess what?

Myra, without her knowing, is a special case because she's the only one capable of actually changing a person's story, hence why she's able to save Nanami and his story continues.

So yeah these two? A lot of tension even though they're blessed by the same god (who very much enjoys theatre and entertainment).

Anyway back to worst moment for Myra.

So they've all finished a mission together. They're about to go home. The girl who's able to use actual black magic (not Jennette BUT this girl is considered as Aeternitas' student) made a portal where they can just get back to a safe place and right before Myra could enter the portal while almost everyone else did and she feels like she can finally relax for just a second-

Bam!

No, the guy didn't go for Myra first.

It was the black magic user kid. Shot her with his gun which made her lose focus and the portal lost connection. And after tossing the kid into the portal right before she lost consciousness and the connection between their locations lost, he immediately lunged at Myra.

Now, Myra is completely exhausted. The mission they had was a long one and for most of it she was non stop fighting with monsters that are way above her level at the time. She's selfless like that and would not hesitate to protect anyone younger than her.

At this point she's completely in no state of fighting one-on-one. But she still pushes herself to the limit and tried to disarm him and get to safety asap but it's futile when he dropped a subtle threat that her students (Jen and some other young adults atp) are gonna have to start setting up a funeral for her and just stabs her in the stomach with his own sword.

After finally knocking Myra out, he dragged her limp body by the hair and just threw her into the portal, having no idea of which universe the portal will send her to :)

As long as she's not here in this world where she's capable of interfering with the story that's laid out for the people here that fate has planned out, that's all that matters.

#myra smith #oc #original character #ask box #... it's a good thing that she's god's favourite though :) #there's no way she's gonna die a sad death like that. #... yeah sorry if this answer is very messy and jumbled up

[diaryof-18yo]

Me to Him

( Things which maybe said or remained unsaid)

Everything was a mess, literal mess.... and then I met you.

My most beloved. My dearest. A place where my heart resides. I hope you know my life has been a million times better since ever you came in. It's even and easy.

Since ever you stepped in you made me realise that it's not always the major things but the small things that can make you happy as well and life started seeming meaningful and better having you besides me.

All I ever wanted or desired was a good friendship. Right from the beginning I was afraid from falling for you cause I was afraid to left alone again, with a feeling that how unlovable I actually am. Even I don't know when I started falling for you, maybe you knew it all since from the beginning and ofcourse how wouldn't you. You know every inch of me maybe you know me more than I know myself.

I still remember the day when I realised you could make my heartbeat skip, you could take my breathe away within an instant, you could make me smile even when I didn't want to. I didn't know how to feel about it. All I could hear inside my head were your words, "I'll never be able to love you." Maybe these were the words which held me back from accepting that I actually started loving you and I was afraid it might shred my heart into a million pieces. I'm still glad you didn't push me away. You didn't punish me for loving you. You didn't pretend that I don't exist after that night. Maybe you were always like this , kind, caring, calm, reassuring. Alas all considered I'm lucky you like me enough to want to be my friend atleast.

Not that people's words had any effect on me ever but there's one question that lingered in everyone's mind some of them even asked me, "Why him? Why you look upto him as if he's the only man on earth? Why he means so much to you? Why he has so much effect on you? Why you never let anyone else make you feel the same? Why?" I was never answerable to them but I wonder if you ever asked me this, So here's the answer of why you?

Because you made me feel human again. Your kindness, gentleness, care everything showed me how it is like to be a person, a living person.

You came into my life when I was on a verge where I thought everything would kill me.

You showed me everything I had to live for. You felt like sunshine when I thought darkness would engulf me.

After ages I saw a person like you, who only know how to spread happiness and smiles everywhere you go.

Cause I know I'll probably never meet someone like you again. An angel in human form, most magnificent human I came across.

Cause you never treated me as per your convenience or mood. You made my life worth living.

You never regretted me. Maybe not for a mere second. While I thought I was never worth of all the love, care, affection which humans showed.

Maybe it was you who taught me how it actually feels to be kind to others.

This world started seeming beautiful just because of your presence. Just because your presence makes my life a hundred times more better and a life I would love to live simply because you're in it.

Even if I didn't have all of these reasons I would've still love you. It's always been you. You. Since ever you came in it was never about anyone else but , You.

I would've lost myself if it wasn't you who held me when I was about to doom in darkness.

(No. I don't count all of these as any signs. You have been you. And you've always been like this. Kind, caring, helping, making others smile, a shoulder anyone could rely on. As I always say it's fine if it's not mutual. Since it's the best thing maybe best feeling I experienced for anyone. Thank you for your presence.)

I don't know exactly when? where? how? why? I started loving you. Also you're not the first person I loved but I'm sure you're the last person I'll ever love. You'll always reside in my heart, Tangled in my soul, somewhere lost yet memorized in my mind, engraved in my diary, present in the letters I couldn't send you, somewhere present in my smile whenever I'll be happy, deep inside my eyes whenever people would try to read them. You'll always be a part of me. Before you love was just a phrase to me, you gave it meaning. You make me feel how's it to be in love in true sense. How love can make you feel alive inspite of all deadly world things. Whenever I read or hear the word LOVE all I can think is YOU as it still manages to put a smile on my face. A genuine smile.

I might not be the one you love or you ever will. But it's okay nothing to feel guilty about it. You succeeded in making me happy and giving me a bunch of memories to cherish. I'll still love you with every ounce of me. There's no particular reason of loving you. Maybe I never had one. It's just that there's something in you, something which draws me closer to you no matter how much I try to resist it. Loving you is something I can't control. With you I feel alive, better, and that's something nobody will ever understand. I may not be the first woman in your life to make you feel loved but I want to be the only one to make you feel loved to the core. You are special to me. I hate it when you are hard on yourself because you don't deserve that kind of negativity. You deserve to be loved. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I'm not perfect by any means but I want to be perfect for you. I want to support you as long as you let me.

If nothing else I hope I really hope you know that I love you with every ounce of my being. I hope you realise your importance, not only to me, but to everyone who has been lucky enough to know you. I hope you remember that no matter what, I'm here for you and I always will be. I won't leave you not even if the whole world stands up against you. I'm in your life-forever. I'm not going anywhere and even you know I've got good amount of patience. I hope you're aware of the fact that I appreciate you and adore you, and that will never change. I love you. Forevermore. Unconditionally.

I really hope we last together. I hope we do.

But if we don't, I still want you to remember me,

Remember me laughing at your jokes, Remember me brave, the time you held me when I thought I was going to die. Remember me scared, gentle, delicate, breakable - Tho only for you, only for you. Remember me happy, giggling, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember me crying over silliest stuff, just so that you would laugh on me and I could finally pretend that I'm mad just to have you pacifying me in the best possible way. Remember me Stupid, when I didn't know meanings of half of the words you used in your sentences which were a ton heavier than my vocabulary. Remember the way I used to show tantrums when you tried to speak in between of me. Remember the way I would rant about my day in spare details.

Even when I'm gone I want you to be happy whenever my thoughts will cross your mind.

Well also I want you to know as for now I'm not going anywhere. I'll be stuck around you as long as you'll not take me to the dates you said you would. As long as maybe every star vanishes from the sky. As long as maybe every drop of ocean dries, every single drop. Or maybe as long as this world comes to an end. I'll still follow you even if the world was ending. I'm not leaving you. Not as long as you want me to leave. I'll never. Maybe it was a myth that I thought this feeling might fade by time, but here after all these months I'm still into you, It was always you. I know nothing else will ever feel like love again after you. I'm attracted to you in ways I can't explain.

I love you. It has always been you. And the longing to love, to love you, more. I love you. Without an end. Every inch of me belongs to you. I think we both know, I'm yours in every life.

#diaryof-18yo ｡✧ #him him him

[night-dark-woods]

20, 44 and, as a Baru Cormorant enjoyer, 46? :)

20. Where and how do you find new books to read?

usually from my beloved friends and mutuals, or people i follow whose book taste i agree with. or if authors i like mention the books! i have a Long list to get thru from seth dickinson's reddit ama still- off the top of my head, Downbelow Station & Wolf Hall are the ones at the top of that pile? thats also where i got Blindsight from, and its REALLY fun to see what has influenced his writing! also the ranged touch boys, though i suppose that falls under people i follow, just not on social media.

44. The book(s) whose stories have become part of your very makeup.

absolute top of the list is the original Alanna series. i read those so many times. i read the other Tortall books as well, but none were ANYWHERE near as formative (shocker) as a girl pretending to be a boy so she could become a knight. for some reason, i also was never as interested in the later books in the series once she's living as a woman... (/s). other runners up are the Redwall books, The Hero and the Crown, Artemis Fowl, the Old Kingdom series, the Bartimaeus series, and Tithe/Valiant/Ironside. I think most if not all of my tastes in media can be traced to one or several of these books.

46. I like _____, recommend me a book to read, please (insert a book, or trope, or character, or... anything you like before asking for this one).

FIFTH SEASON BY N K JEMISON. incredible incredible character writing, deals with some similar topics (trauma, the ways people often end up enforcing&perpetuating the same systems that harmed them) and most importantly is just very very VERY good. i think it should be required reading for all sff fans to be completely honest. it also has... a lot more faith in the reader than i find Seth has often? like i think my one true complaint about Baru is how often the narrator turns to the reader and says "imperialism is bad. do you get it." WHICH. in all fairness. apparently is needed given some of the ice cold fucking takes ive seen about it (cough arkady martine cough)

the other one on my absolute faves shelf besides that series & Baru is Yoon Ha Lee's Machineries of Empire (which, if you like the accounting part of Baru as much as i do, you will likely enjoy! i love space beaurocracy & detailed descriptions of military maneuvers more than almost any other aspect of scifi, but also i know that isnt true for everyone).

#siyurikspakvariisis #bookposting #thank u!!! #asks

[pickalilywrites]

Can you write a sequel to your Heart Skips a Beat fic you wrote a few years ago? I really love that fic and wanna know more about their story. Since it was a Halloween fic and December is coming up, why not write a Christmas party sequel. Since Levi is an Premed student, maybe Zeke could be his rival who is aiming to be a doctor like his father. And is annoyed he keeps making moves on his pre-law girlfriend.

thanks for allowing me to return to one of my most beloved aus 💕

selective amnesia

rivetra. college/university au. 1859 words. read on ao3.

Levi navigates through the crowd of drunk college students, trying hard not to breathe in the scent of alcohol, hot chocolate, and peppermint. It’s not often that he comes to these parties wearing something other than scrubs, but for once he’s not here to answer an EMS call. He’s here to pick up his girlfriend, who he can spot laughing on the couch with a drink in her hand. He suspects it’s the sickeningly sweet (and most likely spiked) hot chocolate that someone had tried to hand him as soon as he walked in. Levi had abandoned his own cup on a shelf on his way to the living room, but he can see that Petra’s cheeks have a familiar flush that typically appears once she’s had her fair share of alcohol.  

Like many others at the party, Petra is wearing a costume. She’s in a ballet outfit — or what looks like what could be a ballet outfit based off the tutu and ballet shoes although Levi believes she’s taken a few liberties with her ballerina costume from the corset she wears. Apparently, she’s supposed to be the sugar plum fairy from the Nutcracker ballet. Her costume is lacking wings, but Levi doesn’t know anything about the play to say if this is accurate or not.  

Most people are dressed as elves or reindeer. A few guys are wearing Santa costumes. Others are dressed as other popular winter holiday figures: Jack Frost, the Grinch, and someone is even dressed as Jack Skellington for some reason. There a few peculiar costumes here and there: a Christmas tree, an ornament, a candy cane, among others. It’s mostly a spattering of red, green, and white across the room. Levi sticks out like a sore thumb in his gray winter coat and dark jeans. 

He observes the man beside Petra that has been lucky enough to be in her company this evening. It’s the all too familiar face of Zeke Jaeger, another pre-med student in Levi’s year. Despite sharing nearly all their classes since freshman year, Levi isn’t very fond of Zeke and he’s fairly certain the feeling is mutual. Admittedly, Levi hadn’t been the friendliest when Zeke had attempted to befriend him, but Levi has never seen the point of allying himself with people just because they shared the same career path. Aside from major, he and Zeke have nothing in common. Where Zeke likes to attend every frat party and networking event he can to make connections, Levi prefers to only do the absolute minimum when it comes to networking and spent the rest of his time studying or working at EMS. Because of their differences in social circles and extracurriculars, the two hardly run into each other and rarely butt heads until they found that they had a mutual interest: Petra.  

Zeke had the misfortune of meeting Petra much later than Levi. Pre-meds and pre-law students don’t usually run in the same circles and Zeke had only met Petra after she had showed up to one of Levi’s EMS meetings. It was a chance encounter and one Zeke undoubtedly believed was fate — he didn’t typically attended EMS meetings, choosing to skip them as much as possible without getting kicked out, and law students weren’t usually interested in EMS club meetings. The look of devastation and horror on Zeke’s face when he found out that Petra was there for Levi did fill Levi was satisfaction, but he didn’t know that satisfaction would be fleeting and that Zeke would then proceed to find every possible chance he could to spend time with Petra despite Petra’s relationship status. Because of Levi’s relationship with Petra, it meant that he also had to spend time more time than he wanted with Zeke, who never got the hint that Petra is fully committed and has no intention of leaving Levi. It’s more of a nuisance than anything else, although Levi is slightly amused because despite all of Zeke’s meddling, Petra cannot for the life of her remember who Zeke is. 

Levi can see that Petra has once again forgotten who Zeke is by the way she interacts with him on the couch. Despite the arm Zeke has thrown over the back of the couch where Petra is sitting, she’s sitting at the edge of her seat, playing with her empty cup and laughing at whatever Zeke is saying but not engaging with him otherwise. She smiles politely at him, the smile never quite reaching her eyes, and covers her face partially with her hand whenever she giggles to take a quick look around. As soon as she spots Levi, her already half-hearted attention leaves Zeke entirely and is wholly directed towards Levi. Petra’s face breaks into a smile and she immediately leaves her seat to bound into Levi’s arms.  

“Levi!” she cries delightedly, her breath smelling of hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps. She nuzzles her head affectionately against Levi’s neck. “You took too long.”  

“Looks like you had company, though,” Levi replies.  

He’s acutely aware of Petra and all things related to Petra. He’s aware of how attractive she is and how attractive other guys find her. He’s aware of how short her tulle skirt is and how Zeke’s eyes are gazing at Petra wolfishly even as she’s wrapped tightly around her boyfriend. It’s a lie to say that Levi isn’t the jealous, possessive type, and when he drapes his coat around Petra’s shoulders the reason is not solely because he’s noticed the goosebumps that have risen on her bare arms.  

“Oh, thank you,” Petra says, not even so much as casting a backwards glance at Zeke. She’s forgotten him completely despite him undoubtedly keeping her company most of the evening. She wraps herself in Levi’s coat, a slightly larger fit than her own coats although the shoulders are much broader than hers, before wrapping her arms around Levi once more and inhaling his scent deeply. “You smell so nice.”  

“Are you ready to leave already?” he asks as he pats her ginger hair affectionately, careful not to jostle the sparkling tiara that is perched perfectly on her head. She’s sprayed something in her hair and the palm of his hand comes away with sparkles.  

“You should stay, Petra,” Zeke says loudly, but Petra’s either too intoxicated or infatuated to let her attention be stolen by anyone other than Levi. When he notices that Petra hasn’t even turned her head, Zeke raises his voice to be better heard over the party. “Why did you come so late if you were just going to leave, Levi?”  

“I had to take over someone’s EMS shift. They were a no-show,” Levi replies easily, fixing an icy stare at Zeke who doesn’t even have the shame to look embarrassed even though it’s clear that Levi is alluding to him. Then again, this is far from the first time that Levi has covered Zeke’s shift, although it was more to bolster his own CV for medical school rather than doing Zeke a favor.  

“God, what a fucking jerk,” Petra mumbles against Levi’s skin, but her voice is still loud enough for Zeke to hear and it’s only when Petra has an opinion that Zeke’s cheeks begin to burn an ugly, angry red.  

“I’m going to get a drink,” Zeke mutters, getting up from the couch and pushing past Levi and Petra to get to the kitchen where the crock pot half filled with spiked hot chocolate sits.  

“You’re not going to say goodbye to your friend?” Levi asks as he turns his head to watch Zeke retreat.  

“Who’s that?” Petra sniffs, wrinkling her nose at Levi. She yawns, covering her mouth half-heartedly before resting her head yet again on Levi’s shoulder. “I thought he was your friend. He said you guys were classmates.”  

Levi tries to navigate them towards the door. It’s difficult to move when his girlfriend insists on attaching herself to his side, but he doesn’t have the heart to unwind her arms around his neck so he does an awkward shuffle while trying not to bump into anyone. “I don’t know why he says that. You get along with him much better than I ever have.”  

Petra lifts her head and gives Levi a confused look. “What are you talking about? I’ve never seen that guy before in my life.”  

Levi snorts. He would suspect that she was lying just to appease him, but she’s never remembered Zeke no matter how drunk or sober she was. If Zeke were to ever find out, he’d surely be heartbroken although Levi wonders how it’s not painfully obvious by now. Petra never approaches Zeke first, she avoids addressing Zeke as much as possible, and she doesn’t have the faintest air of recognition when she sees him. Levi wonders if Zeke is just in denial. 

“You spent most of the party talking to a total stranger instead of having fun with everyone else?” Levi asks. 

“He didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone else, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” Petra pouts. 

“You’re too nice.”  

“I am not. I’ll have you know that I completely obliterated the defense attorney and his client at the mock trial in my introduction to criminal law class the other day,” Petra huffs. “He was crying, the defendant was crying, and so were some people sitting in the jury.”  

“That’s my girl,” Levi says. He reaches up to untangle Petra’s arms from around his neck when he notices her lifting her face towards his, her eyes closed. “What are you doing?”  

Petra cracks open an eye. “I thought we were kissing,” she replies, her lips still pursed. 

“After you spent the night talking to another man?” Levi asks with a raised brow. He’s not actually bothered by it in the least, but it is amusing to see Petra get flustered anyway. 

“You didn’t come until so much later,” Petra says. She tugs at the hem at the bottom of Levi’s sweater. “I missed you the entire night. You abandoned me, Levi, to save other people’s lives!”  

“You’re absolutely right. I should have let everyone die,” Levi deadpans before planting a kiss on Petra, one that she eagerly reciprocates. The taste of chocolate peppermint would probably taste overpowering on its own, but it tastes just right on Petra’s lips and his lips part easily to take in more of her. He probably kisses her a little harder, a little more passionately than he normally would in public, but the possibility of Zeke watching only makes this kiss more delicious. When they finally part, Levi casts a backwards glance and sees Zeke’s shocked face. To Petra, Levi asks, “Ready to go? Better leave before we get snowed in here.”  

“As long as I’m snowed in with you,” Petra chirps happily. She also glances back and notices Zeke staring at them. She leans over towards Levi and whispers, “Is that a friend of yours?” Once again, she’s forgotten Zeke.  

“Not at all,” Levi says with a smirk and wraps his arm around Petra before leading her through the hallway and out the door, leaving everything else behind.  

#snk #college au #university au #rivetra #levi ackerman #petra ral #requests #asks #answered #anonymous #anon #zeke jaeger

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

((I'm going to keep this succinct because if I say everything I want to say I know I'll just end up feeling frustrated (to put it both kindly and lightly) and I, ultimately, want to go forward on a positive, healthy note. That deserves to be the focus and drive rather than any deep seated frustration or upset.

With the exception of one thread (and the applicable tcol threads that are being moved over to my other blog or have been moved already) I'm going to be dropping all interactions here and permanently archiving this blog.

This probably disappoints some of you but I've dealt with all of this long enough. This blog isn't a safe, healthy or good place for me to be in; in all honesty it hasn't been for over a year now, and no matter what I do to express myself, no matter how I try to accommodate others either ic or ooc, no matter what I offer or suggest, no matter who I speak to or how I reach out it just..... doesn't matter. Despite all efforts on my part I've either been ignored or, worse, sent hate message after hate message for reasons I cannot even begin to comprehend. And that's not fair. That's not fair and it never has been fair and I'm tired. I've put up with all of this for far too long when I could be somewhere better instead, like my new blog, or just..... anywhere else besides here. I hate to say that, I really do, but it's true and I should've realized that sooner and maybe I shouldn't of fought so hard, I don't know.

I'm tired of not being listened to and that includes listening to myself and so I'm going to leave and do what's best for me even if it feels a little 'too late' for comfort.

I will continue to rp on this platform (and maybe that's stupid of me; who knows) but I don't know when I'll be making a new variety blog. Creating a new blog from scratch is an incredibly stressful thing for me and I've already had to do exactly that incredibly recently as everyone here knows but..somehow I'll do it. Somehow. I know I'm going to and I know that I'll be musing pretty much all of the characters featured here (like Danny, my eternal beloved bias, he'll undoubtedly still be the face of the blog lol) and I know that I'd like to see some of you there and that I still want to write with you it just..... can't be here. Not anymore. I don't know when I'll make a new blog but... hopefully it'll be soon. It'll be a completely different url and such, I can tell you that much. I'll also be even more severe about who I follow and who I don't for reasons I..... shouldn't need to go into if anyone has been paying attention.

My inbox is completely disabled and my IMs are disabled as much as they can be so please don't attempt to contact me here. If you want to interact/write with me in the meantime you can find me on my other rp blog @constellationcrowned and if you want to chat ooc, potentially get a link to the new blog whenever I make it, etc, that's what discord is for. If you already have my info that's great and if you don't (and so long as we're mutuals) you can ask me for it privately on the appropriate blog. If I'm slow to respond to people regardless of connection please don't be offended and understand that this is incredibly hard for me to do, process, etc, but it's necessary if I want to not only continue writing but to continue enjoying writing on the whole. I have my tcol blog to help with that, thank fuck, but I still love the muses here and want to write them too.

It was fun while it lasted and I hope to see some of you on my new blog (and if not that's okay too, I understand if there are hard feelings or things you can't reconcile and I won't hold that against anyone) and you know where to find me in the meantime. I'll update this pinned to something more general/concise whenever I have things set up. I hope things go better next time.))

#;;ooc: pinned post #long post #negative tw #i doubt that people will even read this post but... ultimately this is for me #and taking care of myself on top of attempting to still do what I love should be a good thing

[aldbooks]

As Elucien week comes to a close, I couldn't resist a quick of of angst for my favorite angsty couple. Be warned, this one does not have a happy ending...

We're flubbing the timelines a bit here, don't think too much about it 😅

2,512 words

Lucien stood on the step for several minutes, staring at the door as he attempted to compose himself. He was sure Rhys was already aware of his presence from the moment he’d crossed the wards, but he just…. Needed a minute.

Until yesterday, he hadn’t even been sure he would come. What was the point in making such a long journey when no one really wanted him there to begin with? Oh, he was sure Feyre would be happy to see him, and he her, but he knew she’d be just as happy without him. Probably wouldn’t even notice if he didn’t come. 

The truth of it stung more than he cared to admit. But, what else was new? That had been his life for the last few centuries. Unwanted, easily forgotten, replaceable. 

Taking one last steadying breath, Lucien raised his fist to knock. The door opened before he connected with the wood to Rhysand’s stupid, smirking mein. “I wondered how long you’d loiter out here. Finally decided to stay did you?”

A muscle ticked in Lucien’s jaw. He and the High Lord still weren’t exactly on good terms, but their working relationship, at least, was in much better standing, the two of them having reached some mutual level of respect as they worked towards common goals. Outside of that, he was sure the High Lord only tolerated his presence in his home for the sake of his beloved mate.

To be honest, he’d been surprised when he’d received the request to act as godfather to their son. He’d fully expected the honor to be given to any one of Rhys’ inner circle- and it had, but not solely. Morrigan had been named the future High Lord’s godmother but it seemed that Feyre had wished for Lucien to one day help tutor Nyx on the ins and outs of Prythian court politics should anything happen to them. Rhys, he could tell, had reluctantly agreed.

That still didn’t mean he was welcome here.

Cassian, he heard, had been genuinely offended though thankfully any resentment the general felt was directed at Rhys and not him. The Spymaster on the other hand… Azriel had been cold to him before, but since that announcement he’d been downright glacial. His jealousy was apparent and Lucien couldn’t blame him. Amren, thank the cauldron, hadn’t seemed to care either way.

When Lucien still stood on the stoop, saying nothing, Rhys sighed and stepped back from the threshold, waving for him to enter. “Well, come on. No use standing out here all night in the cold. We’re about to sit down to dinner.” With a flicker of his fingers, the gifts in Lucien’s hands disappeared to wherever Rhys kept them all until they were ready to open them and he followed the High Lord inside.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Rhys drawled as he led Lucien to the living room. Stunted greetings met him from around the room. Feyre, who was occupied with her son, smiled and waved from her seat and Elain, as always, offered the barest of greetings that might be considered polite and then pretended as though he didn’t exist.

Lucien sighed internally. He shouldn’t have come. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything to be different. Wasn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results? Still, he’d only just arrived, it would be rude to leave now and so he resigned himself to staying at least through dinner, and maybe long enough to give Feyre and Nyx his gifts. At least he hadn’t bothered to bring one for Elain this year, knowing it would just sit in a dusty corner somewhere, unused. If it even survived the night without finding it’s end in the trash.

Morrigan appeared beside him offering him a glass of wine. He accepted it, thanking her while ignoring her sympathetic look. He didn’t need or want their pity. He’d made the decision to come on his own. He would deal with it.

As promised, dinner was announced only a moment later and he allowed Morrigan, who still stood beside him, to take his arm and escort him to the dining room. He resisted the urge to look back and see who had escorted his mate. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t just put them both out of their misery and reject him if she was so clearly unhappy with the choice the cauldron had made. He would not begrudge her for doing so, no matter how much it would hurt. He was just so tired of all the uncertainty. 

After this year, he resolved, he wouldn’t bother visiting anymore unless it was on official business. Let Feyre come to him if she wished to see him. It might do her some good to see what has become of her former homeland. Elain wanted space, then he’d give her as much as she could handle. And maybe, he’d finally find some peace.

Dinner was uneventful, the conversation as loud and lively as he’d come to expect. Morrigan and Cassian occasionally made an effort to include him in their discussions, which he appreciated and even Nesta seemed to not mind his presence as much as usual. He didn’t dare glance at the other end of the table where Elain sat beside the Shadowsinger, the two of them absorbed in some quiet conversation. 

He’d suspected for a while there might be some tender feeling there on her part, and it was clear in the way Azriel sometimes watched her and he wanted her. There was little he could do about it, if that was the direction she chose. From what he knew, Elain had only ever been in a romantic relationship with her former fiance and she very clearly held no interest in the bond at present. Lucien could hardly blame her for wanting to explore the interest she did have in another male, especially given some of the affairs he’d had before the bond between them had snapped. Just because he could not stand the thought of being with anyone but her did not mean she had to feel the same way. Perhaps that would change one day. For both of them.

Once dinner and dessert were cleared away, they all made their way back into the living room and Lucien again debated the wisdom of leaving. He didn’t actually need to be here while Feyre opened her gift and it wasn’t as though he’d be receiving any in return… he’d done his duty and showed up. They couldn’t expect more from him than that. And it’s not as though he expected any of them to be bothered.

He was still debating with himself when the gifts suddenly appeared around the room in glittering piles. Deciding now was the best time to slip out while they were all distracted he made to leave until Elain’s voice rose above the din.

“I’ll go first,” she said, the sweet tones of her voice tugging sharply at the strand around his middle. His traitorous heart lurched and instead of leaving, he found himself turned more fully to the room. Though the chances of any of her gifts being for him was slim, at best.

He sat quietly as she handed out neatly wrapped packages. Personal, handmade or handpicked items she gave to not only her sisters, but Rhys, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian, and… Luien’s stomach dropped as she handed the last box to Azriel, a blush staining her face.

He could feel several pairs of eyes turn in his direction, including Rhysand who seemed tense and almost angry. He ignored them all, not that he could have looked at any of them even if he’d wanted to. His gaze was fixed on the pink beneath the surface of her skin. She looked more alive than he’d ever seen her. He supposed that was something to be thankful for, even as everything else seemed to fall apart around him. 

He’d watched her hand gifts over to every other person in the room except Varian, thoughtful gifts that reflected each individual. But the way she and Azriel gazed at each other as she handed this one over… the way their fingers brushed and their eyes held… Lucien was in hell.

He needed to leave. Now. But he was paralyzed. Some masochistic part of himself demanded he sit here and watch. Watch as she metaphorically handed her heart to another male for everyone to see. Watch as she handed him the cruelest humiliation so far.

The gentle brush of Feyre’s mental fingers against his shield’s jolted him out of his stupor. Azriel had opened the gift, which Lucien was unable to focus on long enough to even tell what it was, though the two continued to watch each other, even as Elain had returned to her seat and the other’s were now frantically exchanging brightly wrapped boxes, and doing their best not to look his way. Lucien had never been so mortified in his life though he knew none of it showed on his face. He was too well trained for that. 

Without a word, Lucien rose from his seat, making for the side of the room as though to pour himself a drink before slipping out of the room and down the hall to the back garden. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he stepped outside. Her scent was everywhere, even in the frozen, snow covered flower beds with their empty, leafless branches and thorns. It seemed fitting for the way he was currently feeling. But it hurt.

He sensed Rhys’ presence before he heard or saw him and braced himself for some cutting remark. To his surprise, Rhys just stepped beside him, silently surveying the barren grounds. The silence might have been companionable, if not for the heavy undertones.

“How did you stand it?” Lucien asked quietly. Later, he would likely curse himself for this moment of vulnerability, but in this moment he didn’t care. He needed to say this, to ask this of the only other person he knew that would understand how he was feeling.

Rhysand’s pause was weighted. “I had my friends, my people and all the work that needed to be done to keep me occupied.” He sounded almost apologetic, like he was sorry he didn’t have a better answer.

Lucien could guess why. Now that Jurian and Vassa had returned to the continent and Lucien had taken up a nomadic sort of lifestyle, moving from one court to another as he helped direct the delicate negotiations with both the humans and the fae on the continent, he had no friends left- at least none that he could confide in. He had no real home, no people to distract him. He had plenty of work, sure. But his was a lonely existence.

“Does it get easier?” he asked, somewhat hoarsely. 

Another weighted silence. “No.”

Lucien’s eyes squeezed shut as pain radiated in his chest. He tried not to think about the future that now lay before him.

“I’ll give Feyre your regrets,” Rhys said quietly.

Swallowing hard, Lucien opened his eyes and turned to the High Lord who stood beside him wearing an expression he’d never seen on him before. Understanding. “I’d like to formally resign my position as emissary,” he forced himself to say. “Effective immediately.”

Rhysand tensed but bowed his head slightly in acceptance. “Best of luck to you, Lucien.” It did not escape him that he refrained from using his last name for once. One he knew Lucien abhorred. It was a small show of respect and greatly appreciated in this moment when he was feeling so fragile.

Rhysand turned to go back into the house and Lucien was just beginning to contemplate where he would go now, where he might be welcome, when a ripple went through the wards surrounding the city that even Lucien felt.

Rhysand tensed and they exchanged a brief glance before Rhysand disappeared, Lucien following in his wake. They appeared at the edge of the city, in a darkened forest and Lucien tensed as Rhys went very still. Stepping to the High Lord’s side, Lucien called forth his magic and waited, his ability to see in the dark not nearly as strong as the Lord of Night.

A second later, two figures crashed down beside them, weapons drawn. Even without the flash of siphons, Lucien knew Cassian and Azriel were behind them. He was momentarily distracted by the effort it took to ignore the instinct from the bond that urged him to rip the Shadowsinger to shreds-

And then Lucien finally caught the scent of a smell that had once been painfully familiar to him but that he had not encountered in over two centuries. But… it was… wrong…

Lucien’s blood ran cold and he lurched forward a step as Eris emerged through the trees wearing a flaming crown…. And covered in blood. Beron’s. And something else….

“Lucien,” he brother’s voice was thick and strained, showing an unusual amount of vulnerability. His gaze, so much like their father's, seemed to scan him with something like relief.

Lucien took another involuntary step forward, feeling the Illyrians behind him tense with uncertainty. He breathed a single word,“mother?”

“She’s safe,” Eris croaked.

There was a slight tremble to him, Lucien realized. He wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or the enormous amount of power that now thrummed through his veins. High Lord. “What have you done?”

Eris turned to Rhysand without answering him. “Beron has been- neutralized, so I suppose you escaped that portion of our agreement. However, your… assistance in backing my claim and holding the court would be appreciated.”

Lucien was frankly astounded his brother had deigned to ask for help at all, but it seemed he and Rhys already had some sort of arrangement he was not aware of. Rhys looked a bit shaken but nodded his agreement to Eris. “Whatever you need. I’m sure Keir would be happy to lend his Darkbringers in exchange for a working relationship with Autumn.”

Eris winced slightly but accepted. Lucien didn’t blame him, he’d heard tales of the steward of the Hewn City who ran the Court of Nightmares that Lucien, and the rest of Prythian had once thought Rhysand presided over. No doubt any deals made with him would have consequences down the road, but for now, with Beron gone, presumably at his heir’s own hand, Autumn would need the assistance to keep his more loyal courtiers in check. 

But how had this happened? Why? And why did he detect his mother’s blood mixed with Beron’s?

Eris finally turned to acknowledge Lucien, taking a tentative step towards him. Eris held out a hand, his expression which Lucien could now partially make out, seemed to hold a tentative hope that was utterly foreign to him. Yet it reminded him so much of the brother he had once looked up to, he found himself taking another step forward.  

“Lucien… it’s well past time you came home brother.”

#elucien angst #elucien

[valiantvillain]

WIP Wednesday

Chapter 3 of Duty, Diligence, Devotion (The Bastard of House Cordaign)

Snippet from my more Miraz-centric chapter for this fic. Also I meant to do this earlier today but totally forgot so sorry for late night tags to my mutuals.

-----

One would think they could get used to walking into nightmares at this point. Everyday another corpse. Everyday another tragedy. A raging fire seemed so mundane compared to the slimy stinking bodies of mindflayers and the violent depraved delights of goblins. It inspired a most shameful relief in the knowledge that the screams were the result of smoke and flame and not broken bodies bursting with the snapping of bones and shifting of sinews. You could help someone from a fire and leave them in tact. Disturbed and changed in spirit, but still themselves, minds and bodies yet their own. The mindflayers offered no such mercy. 

Fires Miraz could handle. Even if the ghostly tendrils of gray were more akin to tentacles than she would have cared to admit.

With Wyll, Karlach, and Gale not far behind, Miraz strode into the still burning ruins of Waukeen’s Rest with purpose. She saw the wide doors of a building and the line of Flaming Fist straining against the burning wood and hissing iron. From there she did not think. Only acted, guided by the unerring flow of experience. Without hesitation the paladin joined the struggling soldiers and, clasping her hands, bore the weight of her broad shoulder upon the door. Heat flared against her cheek, wrought forth beads of sweat upon her brow, as it gave with a groan. Miraz was vaguely aware of Karlach’s bulk beside her, adding her strength to the chain. A flash of memory. Of breaking down similar obstacles with Armand gritting his teeth at her side, synchronizing into a rhythm of one…two…three. This door proved no different, caving in on itself in a shower of splinters as it surrendered to their collective assault. 

Miraz drew in a long, acrid breath before she followed the lot within, the party close at her heels as she followed the lot inside, up the stairs. Then they repeated the process twice more to allow a slender elven woman to race out to safety and a poor fellow far more injured to be guided along until the mere sight of a sliver of blue sky spelled safety and he stumbled off on his own. 

So busy had they been with freeing those trapped within the flames that Miraz had hardly bothered to look at them save for the passing realization that the woman had been dressed too splendidly to be a commoner. Perhaps even a distant inkling of familiarity in her low voice swiftly forgotten in the chaos. She had not expected to recognize the elf that stood before them as they exited the building, coughing smoke from their lungs and half-heartedly shaking ash from their hair. She had not expected Counsellor Florrick, even less so that she would recognize her and Wyll. 

The shock at his new fiendish appearance however, was sadly a little too expected. She called upon him first and so it was revealed that the Blade of Frontiers was in fact Duke Ulder Ravengard’s wayward son who had been whispered to have been unceremoniously exiled from beloved Baldur’s Gate. A shock to say the least, but it made sense, when Miraz thought about it, followed the path through the years past. When she and her old crew had returned from a job dealing with a group of Shadow Druids trying to breed manticores to find hushed whispers of the boy’s forced departure abound. You could have scarcely stumbled from one market stall to the next without catching wind of another wild theory or speculation. It was a matter of great interest to Lord Cordaign at the time, Miraz remembered. Or rather the potential for political gain, the subtle poking and prodding of a powerful man nearly as aloof as he to find a newly received chink in his armor. A sliver of grief to seize and exploit. She had always been rather pleased to know he had come up with little opportunity. 

Now the boy of rumor stood shoulder to…well, not exactly, more like shoulder-to-some-unclear-point-on-his-jaw with the boy of legend. Now a young man of age with her second brother and with a career of heroics behind him. Who would have thought that the Blade of Frontiers and the young Ravengard had been one in the same all this time? 

It begged the question of whether Mizora might have been involved. How very like wily patrons to isolate their charges. 

Miraz offered a silent prayer to Helm that the reunion between father and son would be far warmer than any she would have with her own family. Provided avoiding one entirely was out of the question. 

Rescuing the duke. Yet another reason to pursue the trail of this Absolute cult, if the glowing members of bodies of drow and goblins were any indication. What was another item on the list of impossible tasks? 

Then the Counsellor turned her steely gaze on Miraz. Instinctively, her spine straightened, shoulders rolling back as though a soldier awaiting orders. Instead, the woman’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her an instant before something like a knowing relief eased the creases in her face. 

“Saer Miraz Cordaign,” she said, letting each word fall with a gravity befitting of something more dignified than a bastard. “How fortunate I am that you bear little in common with the rest of your family. Though I rather imagined I'd not see you again, given the circumstances of your departure.”

Shame tore through her, burning and white hot. The phantom of fear, however, gripped her heart with icy fingers. The shattering of bones and screams rang in her ears. She had not thought then either. Only acted. Only swung her hammer. Up, down. Up, down. Until her arms were nearly numb. 

It hadn't been justice. It shouldn't have been justice. It should have broken. Why had it held? Why was it guilt that haunted her and not a broken path?

Miraz’s hands clasped behind her back, then squeezed one hand around the other's wrist. She sensed the eyes of her companions upon her. The astonishment of wide-eyed revelation bore into her skull at three angles. She stared straight on at Florrick, just as she was taught. Muscles made rigid by memories of blue-veined hands manipulating her posture until it was acceptable and made to stand still as a statue. 

“They were most regrettable circumstances, Counsellor.” Miraz’s answer was level, formal as befitting one of Florrick’s lofty status. Though if she knew of what Miraz had done, than regrettable was a gross understatement. The paladin swallowed a sudden hard lump in her throat. “How does Aldred Cordaign fare?”

Her jaw clenched at the thought of his death. Tighter when Florrick arched a brow, her own face as meticulously unreadable as that of Miraz. 

“Your brother yet lives, if that is what you are asking. Though if there exist healers capable of restoring bones from dust, then they are not to be found in Baldur’s Gate. He will never walk again. As well as a fair few other things. Some, given his reputation, might consider it a just punishment. Would you agree, Saer Cordaign?” 

The briefest bubble of relief to learn that her brother had not succumbed to his injuries. But then Miraz’s grip tightened around her wrist, so hard she could already feel the steady bloom of a bruise like a flower unfurling under sunlight. Tension hung thick in the air, thicker than the smoke that burned her nostrils and irritated her throat. 

“I…am not sure I can say, Counsellor. Judgment was warranted, I will say that much. Whether the one I gave was fitting however, of that I have my doubts.”

“Does your oath still hold?” 

Miraz nodded. “It does.”

“You are certain?” She asked, the tentative shadow of skepticism creeping across her unlined features. 

“With all due respect, I am a paladin. I would know if I was an oathbreaker.” 

A half-truth. In the heat of the moment it was easy to mistake the sick sensation of guilt rising in your gullet for the sundering of an oath. Yet all the abilities granted to her by the oath of devotion had been just as present as before even after days of doubt had gnawed at her heart. Miraz certainly did not relish the thought of losing them, of losing that which had defined her by the virtue of her own deeds, her own will, the one thing that had always been well and truly hers to claim. But it seemed so very, very wrong to consider what it meant: that violence, raw and angry and uncontrolled, unburdened by restraint, had been justice. 

The elven woman’s shoulders sagged incrementally, almost imperceptibly, with what looked like relief. Why would she be relieved? What did a single inconsequential bastard of a disreputable noble house matter to her? Especially one who had fled before the blood could stain the carpet.

“Should you rescue Duke Ravengard, I shall ensure you may return to Baldur’s Gate without being accosted.” Florrick’s words were sharp with the edge of an offer, likely an additional incentive should Miraz consider the duke’s rescue low on the list of priorities. If there was one thing the Counsellor had in common with her grandfather, it was that they were both shrewd. “From the Flaming Fist anyway. I unfortunately cannot say the same for whatever sellswords Gaetan may have hired.” 

Of course he had. She had finally given him reason to retaliate in full force, hadn’t she? All these years spent loathing her ugly illegitimate existence and now he could justifiably persecute her in the eyes of the coin-swayed law. 

A rueful grin worked it way across her lips with a snort. “So he’s already set his sights on arresting me.” 

“To the fullest extent of what the law will allow, from what my people have told me.” 

In a way it was a relief, to have the breadth of the animosity laid bare. The threats would be veiled no longer, all the aggression divested of the passivity he’d displayed for so long for fear of a broken jaw. 

She supposed it was too much to hope that Aldred would have grown a conscience. The sigh that left her lips tasted of cinders and regrets. 

“I thank you for the generous offer, Counsellor Florrick but such promises will not be necessary. I would have agreed regardless, with or without Wyll. Nor do I intend to return to the city once our work is done.”

“You would prefer a self-imposed exile? When even your oath sees fit not to condemn you. Most in your position would argue their innocence far more vehemently.” 

“My intent is not penance,” replied Miraz, shaking her head. “Merely to get out from under the Cordaigns’ long shadow. Nor was I innocent. What that means for my oath, however, is something to ponder in time.” 

Preferably when her head was blissfully absent of a parasite. 

Florrick, however, seemed to remain unconvinced, frowning haughtily. Truthfully, Miraz had only seen the woman a handful of times when her grandfather had dragged her to those cursed balls and events of the Gate’s rich and powerful, and always at a distance. Standing near the walls, ever in the backdrop like a piece of crudely hewn decoration someone had placed there more for the novelty than any sense of aesthetic pleasure. Yet it appeared that the Counsellor had taken more notice of the bastard of House Cordaign than she once thought. Did Miraz dare to consider such interest may have carried a touch of admiration? That an illegitimate half-orc such as her could garner enough of a cutthroat patriarch’s respect to yank her out of the temple to which he had given her at his discretion? To sculpt and chisel her into his version of perfection? 

Nonetheless, in that moment the woman did not yield, only nodded in an imitation of acceptance. 

“Be that as it may, the offer will stand,” she eventually said, after having given Miraz one last appraising once over. Perhaps trying to catch a hint of trepidation, an uncertain shuffle of her feet or an instant’s aversion of her eyes but finding nothing. “Baldur’s Gate may yet benefit from your strength.” 

You mean my hammer, Miraz thought to herself. Such was always the case, wasn’t it? Both beneath notice when all was at peace and yet vital when something needed doing. Either way, some form of ridicule or reticence usually came with it. At least when it came to nobles anyway. 

“Of that I have no doubt, Counsellor. Rare is the city that does not have a use for strong arms and stronger wills. May Helm watch over you on your journey.” 

“You as well, Saer Cordaign, Wyll.” 

It wasn’t until the Counsellor and her retinue of Fists had passed beyond the smoldering outer gate that a long exhale released from Miraz’s lungs. Her eyes briefly shut with relief and the muscles pulled taut in her shoulders finally relaxed. A faint soreness ringed the wrist she had held for the entirety of their conversation. Even so, her heart thudded knowing that she still felt the weight of her companions’ stares. 

No pressure tags: @poetikat, @arendaes, @captastra, @perhapsrampancy, @isobel-thorm, @mxanigel

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #half orc tav #paladin tav #oath of devotion #wyll ravengard #counsellor florrick #miraz cordaign #duty diligence devotion #i love writing this trouble half-orc girl

[modernwizard]

Reasons I love the Spymaster #73: He wants mutual understanding with the Doctor!

Find my full series under the HELP I WUVS HIM tag.

This is a slight rewrite of an essay that I wrote before restarting this list. I'm just putting it in this list so I can find it easily.

All Masters have always been defined by their desires for the Doctor. [No, I will not justify my choices of verb, nor will I explain the nuances. If you really want to know, PM me.]

Delgado wants to BEST the Doctor.

Pratt/Beevers wants to DESTROY the Doctor.

Ainley wants to BEAT the Doctor.

Roberts wants to POSSESS the Doctor.

Jacobi wants to FOLLOW the Doctor [before Jacobi rediscovers himself, that is].

Simm wants to HURT the Doctor.

Gomez wants to BEFRIEND the Doctor.

But what about Dhawan? Ultimately Dhawan Master the Spymaster wants MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING.

What’s so special about the Doctor? That’s why the Spymaster wants to know. He spends an indeterminate time pre-Spyfall texting with her as O, who seems to be a close friend. He also keeps an extensive library on her in Spyfall. In other words, he’s doing primary and secondary research on the Doctor’s compelling, charismatic nature.

The Spymaster pursues even greater knowledge of the Doctor in The Ascension of the Cybermen/The Timeless Children. His investigation into the Matrix and his discoveries about Tecteun and her experiments give him information about the creation of the Doctor. You could probably say that even his assimilation of the Cyberium, containing the entire knowledge of the Cyber people and therefore quite a bit about the Doctor, one of their greatest annoyances, also furthers his goal to know more about the Doctor.

But even that is not enough. The Spymaster wants to go further. Knowing about the Doctor from a friend’s point of view [as O] or a researcher’s [from his files] or an enemy’s [from the Cyberium] isn’t enough. Nor is it enough to know the circumstances of the Doctor’s creation. He must also comprehend what it feels like to be the Doctor firsthand…as the Doctor.

The pinnacle of the Spymaster’s attempts at understanding the Doctor occur in The Power of the Doctor. Both the Spymaster’s turn as Rasputin and his body swap with the Doctor demonstrate his desperation to understand…well…the peculiar power of the Doctor.

Look at the Spymaster’s disguise as Rasputin. It’s more than just canon confirmation that the Master has a thing for pretending to be Russian [see Razor and his questionable accent]. It’s a chance for the Spymaster to be a beloved healer, an advisor, a helper--in short, a Doctor. [Find more details in #65: Ra-Ra-Rasputin!]

The body swap in The Power of the Doctor, being more of an appearance swap, nevertheless seems to impart to the Spymaster some profound firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to be the Doctor. After all, he says at the end of the ep, “If I don’t get to be the Doctor, then you don’t either.” He also says, “Please don’t let me go back to being myself.” [Or something like that.] Both of these lines indicate that his experiences during the body swap aren’t just that of the same old Spymaster in different clothes. He feels during the body swap like someone beside himself—like the Doctor. He finally knows what it’s like to be that person [or he thinks he does], and he doesn’t want to let that go.

I began this essay with the contention that the Spymaster seeks mutual understanding. However, all I have reviewed so far are the Spymaster’s attempts to understand the Doctor in more and more intimate ways. I have not yet pointed out the Spymaster’s struggle to explain himself to the Doctor.

The Spymaster’s deepest desire is not only to understand the Doctor, but also to have the Doctor understand him and his feelings. If we think back to his relationship with the Doctor as O, we see very little of it, but we do know that they communicate in secret codes [i.e., the fish] and that the Doctor signs off her text with “Kisses!” The fish suggests in jokes and a comfortable camaraderie, while “Kisses!” suggests that they are talking about feelings from time to time, even if casually and jokingly. The Spymaster uses his O persona to indirectly test out expressing emotions to the Doctor.

He escalates his self-expression to the Doctor by using force in The Timeless Children. He coerces her into accompanying him to the ruins of Gallifrey in the first place, ties her down with a magic force field [or something], and then subjects her to an infodump about Tecteun and her eugenic experiments on the Timeless Child. This is a fucking gross, racist, and sexist situation in which the scary evil brown guy overpowers the heroic white woman and violates her mind for…uh…basically the whole episode, and I hate it. I’m not excusing it. I’m only saying that the Spymaster does this in part because he wants her to know what he knows. He wants her to learn what he has learned in the same way that he has learned it. He wants her to feel what he feels.

When the Spymaster and the Doctor have their showdown with his Cyber-Masters and he dares her to release the Death Particle, the Spymaster’s desire to have the Doctor understand him becomes explicit. “You’ve given me a gift…of myself,” the Doctor tells the Spymaster. “You want me to be scared of it because you’re scared of everything.” In other words, she correctly states that he wants her to feel afraid in the same way that he does.

The Spymaster agrees, saying, “You don’t even know your own life. Look how low I have brought you.” But he’s only projecting his own confusion, despair, and defeat onto the Doctor. He wants her to know what it feels like to be him, but he hasn’t succeeded in transmitting his experience.

This brings us again to the body swap in The Power of the Doctor. The Spymaster has failed at forcing the Doctor to understand him, so now, desperate and out of other ideas, he just flat-out tells her: "Don't let me go back to being me." Does he assume and hope that the Doctor’s time in his form has given her a sense of what it is like to be him? Does he really want her to empathize? He seems to be begging for escape here. Well, at the very least, he doesn’t want to be abandoned. His attempts to establish mutual understanding do not succeed.

@natalunasans @sclfmastery @timeladyjamie @whovianuncle @rowanthestrange

#the master #spymaster #the spymaster #the timeless children #dw meta #doctor who #sacha dhawan #dhawan master #HELP I WUVS HIM #the power of the doctor #mental invasion #body snatching #another other truly horrible and ineffective ways to try to foster empathy #object lessions in how NOT to communicate

[inanthesis]

it may have been a bit unreasonable for diluc to have asked his lover to stay out in the vineyard with him and toil away picking the best grapes that would eventually turn into teyvat's finest wine, but there's nothing quite like spending time together knowing he wouldn't have to leave first thing in the morning, or even at the end of the day when all was said and done. there was work to be done, but the young master was content for once to simply enjoy the consultant's company instead of an extra pair of hands. it was a long journey from liyue harbor to the dawn winery, and diluc could understand that no small amount of fatigue had accrued from the journey over. so he recounted the day's events, telling his beloved all about a certain cavalry captain's antics and their beloved, and far too spoiled feline companion's journey with him to the angel's share, where he valiantly fended off any would - be drunken archons with his presence alone. diluc could only smile to himself as he imagined what zhongli would have looked like seeing the dejected bard all but flee the tavern.

' alright.. i think that's enough for now. '

satisfied with the haul within his basket, diluc approached the shaded spot where zhongli sat, so he could admire his lovely smile. on rare occasions, he's been known to be far more generous with the affection he gave, and it often began with that grin that all but stole the sun's luster. it warmed his heart to such an extent, that the basket had been set down beside them so he could properly regard him. ' you look no worse for wear than usual, darling. ' a tease, of course— diluc could only think of this man as far too charming.

it takes only a second longer for master diluc to remove his hat that once shaded him from the harsh sun bearing down on him and place it atop zhongli's head, a finger hooking under his jaw to tilt his head up that he might kiss his beloved for the simple reason that he was far too fond of him. ' i wasn't expecting you so soon, but i can't say i'm not pleasantly surprised. '

( for 1 dragon boyfriend )

While it was never ideal to have time spent in Mondstadt with any amount of separation from his dearly beloved, Zhongli truly had little to complain about as he was allowed to rest comfortably in the shade with a refreshing drink as Diluc diligently worked the vineyard. Without having to toil away under the harsh sun himself, the retired god could simply listen as Diluc told him about his day and shameless admire the young man's every movement as well as how there was truly no word other than cute he could ascribe to how he looked with that sun hat and precious smile on his face once he was satisfied with a job well done.

"Flattery just may get you anywhere, dear." There was no real attempt to hide his anticipation for what he was sure would come next. Diluc had been in an amicable mood since he'd arrived, had even allowed him to sit out on hard work he may otherwise have required him to participate in, and that left Zhongli all warm smiles as he found himself donning the cute sun hat and happily meeting the other in a kiss which ended far too soon- but then, they all did no matter their length.

"What if I were to say my primary reason I felt it necessary to make my way here was knowledge a certain mutual acquaintance stopped by Liyue Harbor to tell me he would be here as well and I hoped to lessen whatever potential disasters may occur upon your meeting?" Brow quirked curiously, testing the waters only because it was a bit fun teasing Diluc in his own ways. "Or perhaps it is a mere coincidence for Director Hu has begun making certain I offer proper compensation for how often I request time away. That girl is perfectly content to use me as an errand boy. I've yet to decide how I feel about that... but I suppose it is well worth the time I'm allowed to spend with you, baobei."

#dawnscall #gen || asks #zhongli || interactions #zhongli || v: main #/ i can't be bothered to move this but IT'S FINE. gay old men time

[narrators-journal]

Persona 4 and 3. Characters: Margaret, Elizabeth and narukami. Kinks: 69, praise link, creampie, breeding, vouyerism. "Plot": Margaret want to see her sister and her good pet in some passionate action. Thank you mate ♥️

Oof life has not been kind to me as of late, lol. I hope you can forgive my slow writing, and I hope this is what you expected! I tried my best with this one.

CW: Voyeurism, breeding, 69, creampies, and praise kink included in this one.

A nice glass of wine, a comfortably stuffed armchair, and a good show was what Margaret considered a good way to enjoy some free time. Her sister taking part in her fun only added to the enjoyment of the show. “Good job, Narukami. Good and slow.” She reminded, smiling as she leaned back in her chair and drank in the sight of her beloved wildcard under her sister. His mouth full of pussy, his well-kept body littered with lipstick stains and bite marks, and his usually neat hair a mess in the flurry of pleasure and lust. Though, saying the sight of mutual oral was a particularly strong turn-on wasn’t quite accurate for the curvy velvet room attendant. She’d watched her wildcard sleep with a few girls and guys, with consent from all involved, of course, so the thrill of it had worn off a tad.

The sight of Narukami’s body though. That never failed to make Margaret’s blood tingle.

Even if the years after his journey had softened him a bit, and he no longer had abs she could wash laundry on, the mere thought of the silver-haired wildcard undressing for her and following her every command had her burning with desire.

And, of course, she was more than willing to share that pleasure with her sister. After all, Margaret’s charge hadn’t needed to give up his life for the world, so it only felt right to share him with her less lucky sister.

Which, was what landed her in her current position. Sitting in a comfortable chair, enjoying the sight of Elizabeth bobbing her head up and down Narukami’s cock, her cheeks crimson and her muffled noises slipping out from Narukami lapping at her pussy at a leisurely pace. Only broken when Elizabeth finally could take no more and raised her head to whine, “N-narukami! God, please fuck me,” Which made Margaret chuckle. But, with a swirl of her wine, the older attendant hummed, “Go ahead, Yu. Give her what she wants.” Which, was the green light the old wildcard needed.

Obediently, the man moved Elizabeth off of himself to reposition her onto her back. Leaning down to kiss and nibble at her neck as a hand slid over her fair skin to massage one of her breasts. “Remember to encourage him, sister.” Margaret reminded, lifting her glass to her lips as she spoke, her golden eyes widening as she watched her wildcard litter his lover with hickeys and love bites while the woman panted out, “G-good boy, Narukami. Good boy.” Rewarded with the wonderful stretch of the quiet man’s cock pushing into her. A recollection that had Margaret’s blood thrumming in her veins as she watched Narukami set a slow pace to start with. Easing Elizabeth onto his length before gliding his hand from her breast, down to her thigh. Lifting one of her legs from his waist to his shoulder as he sped up. “Ah! G-good!” Elizabeth gasped, her back arching and the leg kept at Narukami’s hip tightened around him as best she could manage.

All the while, Margaret found that the lascivious soundtrack, and the third-person perspective of Narukami at work had her squeezing her thighs together. “Come on, Liza, be more specific. He has to know what he’s doing right.” She encouraged, her half drank wine forgotten beside her chair. All of her attention taken up by the view in front of her. “Good, you’re...you’re fucking me really good.” Elizabeth clarified through moans, clutching the bed sheets as Narukami finally spoke in a husky mutter, “Thank you, ma’am.” Which earned a small gasp from their hot and bothered audience. “God, you’re so well-behaved, Yu.” She praised, Elizabeth moaning and nodding in blissed-out agreement while her sister tried not to interrupt to take her place. Instead, compromising with living vicariously through the scene. “Now, do a good job and breed her, honey.”

It was a snap decision. Margaret never minded sharing her wildcard, but if anyone was going to bare his children, it would be her. Yet, it was too fun to watch Narukami hump into someone for her to go ruining it, so she could stomach the risk this one time.

So, she settled for twirling a lock of her light hair around her finger while Narukami switched to a slower, but deeper pace that made Elizabeth whine beneath him. Clawing into the sheets more as the wildcard made sure to thrust into the one spot that made a woman crumble, over and over again. And, at that point, Margaret didn’t even care to tease her younger sister about complimenting him for his skill. All she could think of was riding her partner like a wild stallion after Elizabeth was done. But, for now, she simply sat and watched her sister be unravelled bit by bit with each deep thrust until, finally, Narukami stilled inside of her with a low groan. In response, the attendant arched her back once more with a loud curse as Margaret saw the waves of euphoria rake over her sister and her wildcard.

In the end, Margaret was the only one still in a storm of desires and need. Her pet had done as he was told, pumping Elizabeth with cum, left shakey and tired from the show, but that didn’t stop his personal attendant from pushing herself up from the armchair to wrap her arms around him with a simple demand.

“My turn~”

#Persona 4 #Narukami x Elizabeth #Persona #Margaret x Narukami x Elizabeth #ask #Yu Narukami #Margaret #Elizabeth #not sfw #lemon #spicy

[castle-dominion]

6x9 disciple

the s6 3xk episode liveblog

(if you know who he is, I ask you: why is he walking around like this? Why does he act shocked for our benefit?) Sussy hobo /neu I thought the single frame on his face might have been Someone We Know at first, but I'm afraid not. She dead.

*woman hanging dead* RC next scene: We should go somewhere relaxing. You know, where we can just hang. Don’t you think?

KB: Before we plan the honeymoon shouldn’t we set a wedding date first? RC: No. Because the department hasn’t even decided if you can have time off yet. Besides, planning a honeymoon will help us set a date. She gives him an incredulous look. KB: Okay. I can’t wait to hear about this. RC: Well you don’t want to go to Thailand during monsoon season, do you? Or New Zealand in the winter? No. You decide where you want to go, the best time to be there, boom. Lobby for those dates. KB: New Zealand? Castle, are you using our honeymoon as an excuse to go and tour Middle Earth? He clasps his hands together joyfully. RC: I’m game if you are. KB: I was hoping for something more romantic and less … hobbity. RC: Why does everyone always think those two are mutually exclusive? (he’s right. Good food, lots of dancing & music…) KB: And it should be a place where neither one of us have ever been to. RC: Agreed. A perfect spot that will be ours and ours alone. KB: Like Barcelona. RC: That’s where I took Meredith. She backtracks. KB: Okay. Um … Galapagos. I’ve always wanted to go there. RC: Gina. KB: Seriously? RC: Yeah. Part of our whirlwind honeymoon tour. KB: Fine. Swiss Alps. I hear they’re breathtaking. RC: They are. KB: No. RC: Yeah. It’s where Meredith and I used to winter. KB: You know what? I think a better plan would be for you to make a list of places in the world that you have never honeymooned, vacationed, or married any of your other wives. He raises his orange juice glass at her. RC: How hard could it be?

KB: Albania and Finland. That’s all you got left? Finland is pretty af! That's where moomins takes place!

Sunglasses my beloved

Something in her expression says she’s not hopeful but she doesn’t have time to dwell. JE and LP are talking by her car and it looks not case-related. KB: Hey Ryan. (KR walks over) What’s going on with LP: ? KR: Uh, this case just hit a little close to home. RC: Why? What happened? KR: Uh, security guard on the nightshift found out victim hanging from that beam. (he points) We ID’d her as Pam Hodges, 32. RC: Hanging as in, by the neck? KR: Yeah. But what’s really bizarre is the way the victim looks. He pulls back the body bag to show them. PAM HODGES bears a striking resemblance to LP. RC: Whoa. Is that Lanie’s sister? KB is affected, too. KB: (shakes her head) Lanie doesn’t have a sister. Are Pam Hodges and Lanie related? LP: Nope. But they say we all have a twin out there somewhere. I guess this one’s mine. KB: Lanie, we can deal with the preliminaries later. LP waves her off. LP: I was shook up at first, but I’m fine now. (Heck yeah girl. Shaken up of COURSE.) She died between 2 and 4AM. Her neck did not break because the killer rigged the wires so her feet were just off the ground. She probably was strangled to death.

Looks like a guillotine or smth. RC, abt pam's old drug solicitation mugshot: She looks a heck of a lot better now than she did back then. Aside from the being dead part. Dang that IS lanie! I legit thought at first that maybe they doubled acting.

What WAS this new job? NICE PLACE HOLY CRAP discretion is important. They still deserve their privacy! Even if this is a murder!

RC: I love when you get angry. I mean, at other people besides me. KB, who knows her coats: Castle, look at these coats. There’s at least $20 grand here. Sugar daddy? KB: mistress RC: sugar daddy

Ooh camera!

She's been in new york for a long time now... tourist shots aren't much... Ah untraceable money place. Lanie needs her friend <3

Same stuff or same brands too? Who knows that? Love lanie's underwear lol. Very Lanie of her or SHE went out of her way to look like you

intro, 45m left.

What is with the lighting here? Going to be Esposito & his secret money stash.

Miami, also florida. Tampa. Yeah she NEEDS to have a social circle.

RC: An ME investigates the murder of her own doppelganger. It would be a great story if Lanie weren’t living it.

I was so excited to hear abt kelly neiman bc I had heard abt this name online before.

Of course yeah, she trusts him. Remember all the perp nicknames? Why don't they do it in the interview lounge rather than the interrogation box then? & I WOULD suggest recording this!

What private crap is going to be shared? JE: Who’ve you been with in the last six months? Besides me, I mean. I know we’re not exclusive. Very Them of them. But also "you know I only have eyes for you"

The tattoo artist y'all

I love her realization. At first you don't know, but sometimes it Occurs to you.

Someone spiked her drink? Icky icky icky icky. Scary scary.

Lanie selfie? Or not whoops nvm.

All these plastic surgery things.

KN: As a tireless self-promoter, let me offer you one of my pens. She's creepy. A plastic surgeon talking like that... rly weird.

It's goal photos, ppl do that with haircuts all the time bestie

NIGHTCLUB THAT LANIE WENT TO! What company? Oh gregs baker.

Lol castle is hurt by the "amazing potential" comment

Wow it must be evening now. Neiman is still at the office? It's dark out! Florida! Police jackets & stuff Love the dark music.

Gonna also be dead. Yep, floating. Love love love the music. Ryan, physically move him outside Even ryan looks shaken up.

That's creepy.

Lanie works as the ME but ok close enough, she's part of the fam. Love the outfits btw, beckett's jackett, ryan's normal stuff, castle today... Lighting is gross tho. Esposito outfit decent. Why is gates letting esposito work on this case?

Ah another stripper type career! If I were them I'd suggest that MORE cop-related lookalikes die.

Heck yeah speech therapy! I remember the good old days of getting pulled out of school for speech therapy. Haha.

I love love loooove speech patterns & cadence & word choice & all that good stuff. My man would not have the file Right There, he would have had to look for it. I RECOGNIZE THAT-- SWAN SONG THE ROCKUMENTARY ONE! I was right! The rockumentary! Love how they are referencing a non-plot-heavy episode with this! sound-alike too sjfklds that's so creepy I love it! Oh that is fucked up the way he killed him.

Lanie is right. You & me or versions of Ryan & Beckett, they are who I'd look at next. Might not have anything to do with the Relationship tho. It could be that those two were together, or not idrc. (Obv for the plot tho, they needed Lanie bc she's ME tho they could have had perlmutter, & they needed esposito bc rystle already have a vendetta.)

I never make promises. "I have a team on my back."

So they surgeried Pam!Lanie & vocalized Daniel!Javi lmao I would have loved a fenton/siobhan moment with esposito & the neighbour

Her apartment? or her clinic?

OVERNIGHT guest! Ah she has TWO degrees in different martial arts!?

Why do you only have one shot? lmao "I no longer have one"

Yeah man "purely physical between us" & then immediately talks about how pretty beckett is.

It was NOT a coincidence! There is a reasonable explanation! Wow Neiman is good.

I would believe neiman if she didn't say it like that. I like her freckles tho. perfection. She's soooo creepy. Oh she's trying to get a map of beclett's face! For you-know-what!

RC: Can I say something that’ll… probably annoy you? KB: Since when do you ask for permission? RC: Touché

Yeah if she wasn't toying with you I'd believe her.

"told you" *into his cup*

For a sec I thought that red car was theirs

Florida murders! lol they just photoshop a hat on him XD

But why was the dock security guard like that then? In the start? pretending he didn't recognize the girl he himself strung up? Who was he acting for?

Lighting dark again. Ryan addressing the crew. also rly ugly Dan!javi photo

Yeah the money has been my question too.

Partner would make sense.

Dun dun dun 3xk! James gillies moments. Tyson used to leave evidence occasionally. He was not the best back in s3 when he first appeared. He wasn't very good at being a serial killer, that's how he was almost caught the first time. Then he got better ofc.

VINTAGE 3xk, classics... RC: Tyson doesn’t leave evidence. Not unless he wants us to find it. Like that deleted photo. No evidence plus meticulous planning, that’s vintage 3XK. And this case has it in spades. RC: No. You want to know some other 3XK classics? Using people that look like other people. Using a killer to act on his behalf. Beckett, how can you not see it? "You know I prefer 3xk"

were ALL of those files 3xk's?

Ah. It was Dan!javi wasn't it? they also learned not only speech & looks but also signature? Ryan standing behind him physically on his side.

lol her face close-up with the phone & big music

RC: It’s not enough that Jerry Tyson disappeared, he wanted his murders to disappear, too. And it’s not just evidence. It’s his MOs, his victim preferences. All the hundreds of tiny case details that could reveal psychology as to where he is, where he might be going next. It’s all gone. It’s like he’s got a clean slate.

VG: A cruiser just spotted Matthew’s car at the Starburst Motel in Queens. RC: That’s the same motel where we put up Jerry Tyson. (in the bloopers) I remember because that's where he beat the shit out of Ryan

Castle actually stays & listens for once (also have I mentioned the beautiful red with red for Beckett & castle? Good outfits.

Castle *tackles the guy* love it sm. & calls him 3xk too! He prefers 3xk over jerry tyson. (not clipping tho)

VG: How are you, Detective? I love her/them JE: Depends on how things go down with Carl Matthews. lol so true bestie. But this reminds me of ryan saying "I will be once jerry tyson is behind bars" in response to 'are you ok?' in 4x4

Only two people for files? what happened to the prison files? ryan was supposed to do that before he got called away to visit the motel

Carl Matthews: You broke three of my ribs. RC: I’m sorry. I was going for double digits. SDHFAKJLSDFK lil bro said not t oclip tho & he is my voice of reason

CM: Sounds like a lot of sticks and no carrots. it's insane to me that the death penalty even exists, at least at this point in time.

CM: She was a fighter. And the look on her face … she wanted to live so bad. But I stood her on a shipping pallet and then pulled it away. And her feet were just – just off the ground. I remember the toes of her shoes just scuffing the wood. (he demonstrates with his fingers against the table) All panicky and fast at first. And then slower. And then not at all. this is sooooo gross but it's so cool to see him talk

CM: With Daniel I used the reel. So with each click I drew in a quarter inch of line. It got tighter and then lifted him, bit by bit. Every time I hear a click I’m right back with him.

LP: How long do you think it’s going to take before we stop thinking about what he’s done? Until we stop … looking at each other and seeing two dead people?

Matthews admires 3xk's work. I wonder if there is like... a serial killer club or smth. (it's called prison) like that arsonist club in that one episode

"yeah that's right" he says while shaking his head no He could lie & say "dang I was hoping you didn't know where my bank account was" also where is that money coming from???

Lol free wifi

CM: I’ll confess to my kills. No more and no less. I recall every one of them in the clearest detail. All those memories. And to me? I won’t be in a prison cell. (he gestures to his head) I’ll be living here. (pause) I need a good pen and a pad of paper. Ah, several pads, in fact. I actually kind of like this guy, except for the fact that he's gross als ROBERT DUNCAN THE MUSIC OOH

VG: So if you’re going to make that claim, make damn sure you can back it up.

3xk had partners. Maybe all the partners he used before formed a union.

or SHE is the one who taught HIM everything HE knew!

not clipping but lol the way ryan needs to also push open the door

Ew bad muzzle control bad muzzle control

RC: Seems like only yesterday this place was a thriving medical practice. Oh, it was yesterday.

Love the designs tho in the office, so neat

Vewn youtube dot com better luck next time BUT WHO DRAWS THEIR Es LIKE THAT

they just brought the pen home?

TWENTY SIX OTHER UNSOLVED MURDERS?????!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!??! tyson or nieman or their partners like the carl matthews or marcus gates or the partners he used before... or maybe he is just taking other unsolved murders to throw you off hte case

dun dun dun pen

but were ALL of her pens like this? or was it just this one? or is this the one that she tried to give them a while back? what if Castle had opened it up when she first gave it to them?

Screw the captions. Tell me the lyrics in this context. Or at least say "we'll meet again by vera lynn playing" (this song always reminds me of bill cipher lol)

they look SOOO messed up by this

that was a GREAT episode I LOVED it SO MUCH I ALWAYS love 3xk episodes we always need more 3xk fanfiction I'm also really really happy that Ryan who got knocked out by 3xk & castle who got framed by 3xk & esposito+dr parish who got doppleganged by 3xk all have vendettas now, not just ryan & castle from s3. & then also beckett & nieman in the last one but that's over already.

HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE I AM SO EXCITED

#castle 6x9 #castle 6x9 quote #castle 6x9 spoilers #3xk storyline spoilers #castle s6 spoilers #the s6 3xk episode