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ravengards-rogue · 3 months

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[ cage training | astarion ancunin ]

✧ tags : muzzles, bdsm, sub!astarion, gender neutral + dom!reader, reader is strong (offers to carry him), dirty talk, orgasm control, feeding (?), cutting (for blood), anal (m!recieving), service dom reader, petnames (my star for astarion) a lot of alluding to hunger, more erotica than smut but 18+

✧ wc : 4.8k (what if all just kill ourselves)

✧ a/n : i dont even like this guy like this im just mentally ill about submissive men. also this is a very "read whats on the tin and make good choices" sort of fic.. i know this kind of play might be controversial for beloved white boy but they have a very loving dynamic Okay. Alright. its about Love.

ALSO. this is ASTARION FOCUSED. so reader doesn't cum (though astarion makes up for it as implied)

this is a fluke fic i cannot recommend following me for this guy!!!written mostly for a friend. had a lot of fun with this though!!!

✧ synopsis : astarion relearns manners and discipline. he's rewarded for his valiant efforts.

He comes to you wounded. Save from the scar on the curve of his spine, it's not a physical wound.

Astarion approached you like a caged lion, a circus animal - a predator paraded like a house cat who has only just remembered his teeth. That's why your empathy extended to his greed even when it caused him to wear the worst of himself. You don't think Astarion has ever understood the fact that he's hungry. He's always hungry.

He inhabits a body pushed to failure. His hunger cues are almost as ruined as he.

Like an animal in captivity, every choice he might've had to make slipped between his fingers for many years. How to live, how to hunt. Hunger is the hardest to remember, though it leaves the longest impression. It's a condition of a wounded mind. He had long since forgotten a body that knows a need stronger than staying alive.

He always waited for the violent gnawing to set in, the kind that can be ignored until it can't.

And so, his hunger became his ruin, became his new captor. Astarion met you in the midst of that delirium the first time

Once you let a captive predator free, you've damned it. A caged lion cannot become uncaged. Survival instinct has all but degraded to nothing, leaving only a wounded animal in its place.

You must nurse it to health. Care for it as it renavigates the world.

Curb its hunger when it threatens to wreak havoc.

Sanctuary. Regiment. Retraining.

It's easy enough to discern what he needs. All tender with wounds that need to be licked.

The muzzle is fitted. A gesture of glimmering gold adoration among the steely black of whips and chains.

Astarion is beautiful. Tenfold on his knees.

The leather straps pull back slight against his skin, three in total clipped together at the back of his skull. The thickest strap flattens sweet white curls, thinner ones curved around his ears and jaw.

The structured leather cage, reinforced with metal, rests over his nose and mouth. It fits better than you could've hoped. There's a collar around his neck to match it, with a weighted chain in your hand. He's looking up at you with a softened gaze, ruby red and lidded. Needy.

The velvet of the loveseat dips comfortably under your weight as you sit. Astarion stays where he is. He's as pleasant as he's capable of being, hopeful as he scoots in closer to you.

He succeeds in acting cute, naturally talented in the art of being appealing. He scoots himself close to your legs and positions himself to rest his chin on the edge of your knee.

You meet his eyes amused. You let your hand brush along the pointed shell of his ear. Little goosebumps form in the wake of your touch.

"You should know better by now that those sorts of tricks don't work on me, hm?"

He huffs. "Well that's not true. They usually do work on you. Rather well, I would say."

You pause, taken aback, before relenting with a laugh His pout endears you. You let your eyes narrow a bit in knowing.

"Not like this though. You know that very well."

His frown deepens. You really do adore him. He taps his forehead against your leg as you bite back a smile, his muzzle making the touch briefer than he'd prefer.

"Gods. Of course I know but this, this is torture, darling."

Pleasant and noncommittal, your hand cups his nape. You pet him wherever you can reach, his head before slipping along his shoulder and against your lap. You settle at his back, tracing over raised scars.

A sorrowful hum leaves your lips. Neither of you believe it.

"Torture? Perhaps I've gotten too soft if this is torture."

"Oh you're so awful," He huffs, biting his tongue and choosing to rest against your leg in frustration for a while longer. "Sure, fine - torture is too perfunctory. But it's been terribly difficult! Where is your sympathy."

"What's difficult, Astarion?"

You're being cheeky asking him. After all your rules have been clear and reinforced well for the two tendays that have passed. You've been working hard on reteaching him patience. He used to be so patient, back when you were exploring and unsettled but you've let him take too much and now he'll interrupt you at any moment just to get what he needs.

(Astarion leans on you for guidance. Of course, he has himself - has his freedom that he took with bloodied hands and a broken heart. There’s many choices that he’s able to make for himself, some of them he can’t explain even to you. Whatever they are, they’re his to make and yours to support.

It’s different though. Not having a choice, and someone making choices for him out of something inscrutable. You don’t bed Astarion until you fulfill the promise of killing his master. More accurately, you don’t lay so much as a hand on him. Only intimate, sparse touches. Only love. Only patience.

You’re disinterested in only having his body. His heart, and his mind, and his very soul - all of it. You want to grasp them so firmly and never let go. The chains and leashing and discipline are testament to what you want most of Astarion - and that’s all of him. You want to enrich him in every conceivable way. Astarion deserves the granular finery of thoughtful guidance more than anyone. He's brighter when he feels special, after all.

You’ve broken down the walls between you with a closed fist for this purpose - a not so quiet ask to love him by opening your hand. He’s given you the honor to let you think and act for him so he doesn’t have too. Duty binds you to reteaching him virtue.

It's a privilege to think for him. To wipe his bloodied mouth and care for his appearance prim and his mind sharp. No longer a matted beast but a loved, loved little vampire in the crook of your arms

You’re not strict to no end. You'd rip the Astral Planes apart in search of what he desires, should he ask it of you, after all.

Only the best for your immortal love. )

His neediness makes him more misbehaving. He’s been scaring away anyone who looks at you too long for business and otherwise, unable to keep his hand away from between your legs or his head in your lap.

"Not letting me drink your blood for two tendays is unreasonable enough but on top of that," He's exasperated just explaining the dilemma to you. His muzzle is cool against your pant leg. "On top of that I'm not even allowed any relief. Despite all of your cruelty, you wicked thing. I never took you for such a sadist."

He scoffs. There's poorly masked lust in the last sentence. You stop yourself from smiling.

"Sadist? Really? I don't see it that way. Seeing you act so desperately all this time and keeping my hands neat at my sides... I'm a paragon of patience." You pull on the leash in your hand but don't pull him forward - though you tighten your grip. "It's…good to lead by example."

Excitement flashes over his face in a short burst. It's so brilliant you swear his eyes look white instead of red.

"You cheeky little—" He huffs at you. You smile warmly as he starts to curl in on himself. He already knows how to get himself what he wants.

He gives up on pretenses. Briefly, just to beg, a monumentally hard thing. "Please. I can't take a minute more of this."

There's a croak to his voice. He has a hard time covering its tracks, even with his propensity for theatrics.

His throat is so thick with want. Something ripping at the seams of him and begging to be released.

"You've done well if it helps, but" You praise. He preens. Instantly. He squirms and wiggles around but doesn't move much more than that. "You act like I don't feed you."

"It is not the same, my love. You're well aware."

You ignore him.

"I even bring you human blood, don't I?" You tease, and his frustration darkens him. "I brought a beautiful and fresh body to drain just yesterday."

"Yes but," His hands turn to tight fists. He isn't sure what he wants to do with himself. You pet him a little more. "It's not the same, damn it. I want yours. Just yours. Just you,"

He adds the last bit quieter than the rest. Your expression is unchanged and cool though your heart might give you away with how hard it pounds.

"Just mine?" You tease. tugging at this leash a little. He makes a face like he's infuriated, a poor mask for embarrassment that endears you even more."Is that flattery?"

You're being a little mean this time. You'll make it up to him. He almost panics before he realizes just that.

"Gods you're insufferable," He complains with no bite. He's hoping for mercy you truly have no desire to give him. "You know that it's not."

"You speak so beautifully it sounds like it. Such sweet little noises you can make."

You let the heel of your boot press along Astarion's crotch. He makes one for you, involuntary - skin pink and sinful.

"See? How pretty."

Astarion is easy to bring to ruin as is. His own snark and disobedience is a poor disguise for that truth. A little tenderness and honesty makes him fall apart. Flirting back with Astarion goads him, though. Fuels his desire to win one over you. If you meet his cheekiness with more cheekiness, he won't relent at all.

Normally that kind of response would make him nip at you. It speaks to his desperation that it doesn't. That instead of making his own snarky remark, he tenses. A deep, shaky little breath. You could tip him over the edge through his clothes at this rate.

You're not so cruel. Not for today, at least.

"Sit up straight."

He does so without protest. You place a hand on his shoulder, the other one tight around the chain of his leash. Carefully, you drag your sharp nails down the front of his chest - leaving light pinkish marks on the pale skin. Over and over and over in light drags. His chest raises under the gesture, your nails scratching soft against his nipples.

"Hng," His voice is feather light. He's trembling at the slightest touch. His spine arches like he's trying to get more friction. "Don't you think you've proven your point?"

You let your palm drag down the smooth plane of his stomach, stopping at his pants. His cock twitches hard against the seam of his pants. You let a finger pull into the waistband, but don't go any farther.

"Not sure," You let the leash drop into your lap. You threaten to pull them down, but don't. Expression blank, you tilt your head to one side. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"My lesson," He repeats sarcastically. You feign innocence as you nod. "Really, darling?"

"I'm not so much of a tyrant," You let go, letting your hand cup the outline of his hard cock. "To torture you without reason, right? So what have we practiced?"

He stares. It must really be getting to him. "Patience."

"Yes. I ask you to be patient. Never kind, but patient. Because I'll give you anything you ask for if you wait. Things are better when you wait for them, right?"

He frowns in annoyance and disbelief. He's exasperated, rightfully - because you are messing with him. Just a little. "Right."

You squeeze his cock tighter. He hisses immediately, grinding into the touch. You blow hot air against his ticklish skin, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"So, have you learned your lesson?"

Your grip goes tight. Astarion craves the touch so badly. You doubt he's ever gone so long without anything at all - if the desperation he's rutting his hips with is anything to go by. His head drops heavy from his shoulders, his hands on the edge of the couch gripping for his life. Manicured nails digging into the cushion like it will save him. His voice is weary.

"Y-," He shudders but you don't let go. "Yes, I'm very sure I have."

"Oh, you're sure."

You enjoy bullying him. At a certain point, it bares itself out against all your own evading. Astarion knows it well enough, though normally it's through less truly intolerable means. Keeping him inside you soft or scraping orgasms one after another until he's too stupid too talk are favored between you.

Astarion likes being given a hard time, in general though. You're made for each other.

"Pretty little thing aren't you, my love?" You tell him, suddenly warmed. You miss the tadpole sometimes. If you could touch his mind right now, you would. Violate his thoughts with your own wants. You settle for a long stare. "So sweet,"

The anticipation makes his breath hitch. He goes completely limp in your grasp, weak and desperate. The weight of it all cracks and he looks up. His eyes glass over.

He shatters under his own need. "For the love of—please. I c-cant, I need to-"

"Shh." You quell him with a tender pet to his head. "You're looking at me so pitifully. Is it starting to be too much?"

He just nods. Your smile widens.

"You've been very patient for these two tendays, haven't you?" You lay it on thick. This is the part you like. You watch as Astarion goes boneless, the words reaching so deep into him he can do little more than collapse himself into your lap. You release all grips of him and let him hold against you soothingly, cling to your legs. "A very, very good boy for all this time. You're quite capable of it when you need to be, aren't you?"

He doesn't reply, but you can feel him melt into you further. For a minute you think you've broken him until you hear him mutter the softest yes you've ever heard.

(Astarion is not so easy to break, of course. And not so keen on opening up the softened wells of his heart to any stranger.

But he does break for you, and gods haven't you worked hard for that? It's a testament to all you've poured into him. Like you know all the right buttons to split him open tenderly.

And he lets you look. Touch and feel and cover your fingers with blood. He trusts you to stitch him closed.)

"Yes, that's right. You've learned your lesson now, and you're going to be proper and well-behaved because that's what good boys do. And Astarion is a very good boy. My very, very good boy."

He picks his head to look at you properly. He's darling. His face is flush, mouth turned into a soft pout and utterly, utterly desperate. His mouth is bitten, indented holes in soft lips.

"Yes, I'm. Please. I want you to touch me."

You aren't sure what you want to start with. He's being needy and you could almost feel guilty.

You pick up something from your side. A dagger from your days of travel. You unsheath it quickly, and let the blade cut along the tip of your middle finger. The blood comes quickly after, ruby red and thick.

Astarion goes wide eyed. He’s hungry, so hungry - like he always is. But there’s something defeated in the ways he hesitates that make you relish. You push your finger through the cage of his muzzle and tilt your head. There’s mirth in your eyes.

“Go on,” You say, tease, mock maybe. “Eat.”

He abandons restraint. All of it. You don’t make him work more for it. You push your finger down close enough for his mouth to lick at your wound and let your hand rest on the cage. He can’t get what he’s craving like this. The bone deep sensation starts to claw at him, a soft whimper tucked in the back of his throat.

More. He wants more. Of course he wants more.

“You look drunk.” You say, and there’s sharpness to your words. The ways in which Astarion is erotic have nothing to do with his theatrics. He is appealing when he’s giving up on everything but what he wants, always has been. “Have you missed it that much?”

“Yes.” He supplements, letting his tongue run over “More.”

You pull your hand away. “Take your clothes off.”

You watch Astarion scramble to stand. You bring your dagger with you then reach over to the table beside you. Scented oils roll around in the drawer. You’re careful with the blade as you fish out a bottle of it, taking it in your hands. Astarion stands naked, the heavy chain of his leash brushing against his skin.

“Kneel and lean on the couch, my love.”

Astarion is the picture of obedience. He leans on his elbows on the couch seats, with his legs spread apart, leash in a pool next to him as he folds his arms and tucks his face. You stand on your knees behind him, admiring his back in the lowlights.

Your hands rest on his thighs as you kiss up his spine. Small, short kisses all the way until you’ve reached the back of his neck. Your lips brush his nape, nose nudging against the metal of his muzzle.

Something overwhelms you. Addicting, euphoric as your clothed body drapes around Astarion, free hand on his waist - moving up his stomach to toy with his nipples. It thrums through you, listening to the ragged anticipation and distraught way he moves. Against you, against everything. Aching for touch.

You feel it overwhelmingly as you close in on his ear. Astarion huffs, long panting breaths. He needs this.

“Look at how naturally you yield to me now,” You all be coo. Astarion groans. Shuddering, your hand slides around his narrow waist and wraps a fist around his cock. He gasps. “You’ve become so pliable, so needy. But you know my star, I quite like when you’re needy.”

He hiccups and shivers and whines. “You’re the prettiest when you behave like the sweet little thing you can be, like I know you are. When you listen and yield and let me adore you in all the right ways. Such a sweet boy you can be, if only you let yourself.”

“Darling,” His voice cracks. There’s a helpless quality to it. A little more, that’s all you need. “I — you —”

You pull back and straighten your voice out, taking off Astarions muzzle after the valiant efforts he’s been making to wear it. It falls onto the couch unceremoniously.

“I’m saying, well done Astarion. I’ll reward you for all that effort. I’ll slash another scar in my hand for you to drink from and then again in the evening when I’ve recovered,” You lean back on your legs as you make promises on your own words. “I’ll bleed for you until you’ve sated yourself and let you get drunk on it. Then, when you’re malleable, I’ll fuck you. Again and again and again until you’ve all but forgotten yourself. All but forgotten who exactly you behave for.”

You open the oil and let it drip onto his back, watching mesmerized as it slips against every curve and crevice. When there’s enough to make opening him up easy, you stop and reach for your dagger.

The weapon slashes over the same wound. You’ve done this tens of times now. You don’t let the scars heal with a potion or some kind of spell. Astarion is far from the comfort of romance, but it is its own promise. Your scar is his.

The pain is brief, but it’s enough to feel it. You don’t flinch, though. When the blood finally seeps from it, you find yourself over Astarions back once again.

You let your bleeding palms clamp over his mouth. It’s as close to sacred as you can forge between you. Astarion moans. It is shameless. Pitchy, high with want and utterly broken. He laps at the blood like a dog, his tongue sharp against the familiar wound. You can feel his body twitch beneath you, the muffled sounds of his voice.

There is no performance in that kind of pleasure, but the amount of arousal that spikes Astarion’s whole body never fails to surprise you.

When he’s feeding from you, you busy your other hand with fucking him open on your fingers. Your dominant hand slips down the smooth curve of his spine, oiled skin soft and cool under your palms. He’s built like a dancer, beautiful curves. He’s a little softer now that he eats well. It looks good on him.

You let your middle finger brush over his hole, relishing in the soft gasp he lets out as you do. Astarion’s aroused enough to accommodate you as you circle it. The tight ring of muscle is familiar, and welcoming to your touch. You don’t need to teach Astarion to breathe, don’t need to remind him of it. You can feel his whole body push along your hands as if urging you towards him. You’re too delicate about the matter for his time.

Astarion is warmer inside than he is out. It fascinates you, makes your own stomach churn with want as your middle finger curves slowly. You pump in short motions until the resistance is all but gone. When you’ve made it as far as the knuckle of your middle finger, you start to search. You curl and press yourself against soft insides, search and search for what you’re looking for.

Astarion lurches forward when you find it. The most pitiful little moan you’ve ever heard squeaks out from his lips, against your hand.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Right there?”

Astarion makes noncommittal noises as you repeat the process again. Another finger, your ringer - spreading him open. Tight hole giving into your touch, filling him. Your mouth kisses the skin that you can reach. You peck and bite along the curve of his shoulders and all over his back as your ring finger penetrates him. His insides soften as you find your pace.

You see his hands start to fidget, but you chide him before he can do it.

“Not yet. You can touch yourself when I tell you too. Not before.”

Astarion needs more than this. You’ll give it to him, but patience is the virtue here.

You don’t know how long that’s going to stick though. The way Astarion is shaking underneath doesn’t give you confidence he’s going to hold out long enough for you to take him apart like you want. You’ll give him something proper later, when he’s not so pent you think the slight brush of skin could make him cum.

You do, desperately, want to see Astarion cum. But it has to be done the right way, or everything would go to waste in a single moment. You fuck him open on your fingers with a pinpoint pressure and accuracy, gauging his every move with the little gestures of his body. You know perfectly, know every inch of him inside and out like a book you’ve read page to page with the corners turned. The way he sways, lays intimately on the edge of cumming but never quite pushing himself over the finish line, speaks to that.

That, and the way he licks the blood from your palm like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted in his life. You can feel it, how messy it is - lapping at the split wound. Sharp unruly teeth digging into your skin, the soft breath of his nose tickling your hand as you cup his mouth. He licks so fervently, like it’s mouthwatering enough to die for.

It doesn’t help the arousal between your legs. It’d be damning for him to know how affected you are by this. By him.

“My beautiful boy,” Your voice is thick with desire. You can’t help yourself, the low possession laced it in. “Fucking perfect,”

“My love,” The words muffle against your palm. You move your hand away to let him speak and his face moves instinctually to bury himself back in it. “P-please. Let me touch myself, it aches,”

You weigh it for a minute, watching his body lurch forward as you fingerfuck him. You make a noise in the back of your throat, dropping your forehead against his spine - adrenaline making sweat drip down the crown of your head.

“Poor thing. Aches does it? Touch yourself for me, Astarion. I want to see you make a mess.”

He groans, hands moving immediately to fist his cock. You can hear it, the sound of him fucking his own fist like a wet, welcoming hole - cock wet and dripping with prespend. Astarions whole body starts to fall limp. His face pushed into the seat, little wet sobs spilling from his lips as he swears over and over.

It doesn’t take any time for his body to give into the feeling of being pleasured from all angles. You feel his face nudge against your hand for blood as his muscles start to go tighter and tighter.

“Shit,” He huffs, pushing himself back into your hands. “I’m going to cum.”

You keep your other hand in place, pace steady.

“Cum for me, baby. That’s it, easy does it.”

It happens so quickly you’re not sure if you should be impressed or if you should laugh affectionately. You can feel it, the way his hips stutter to a stop, his whole body grinding against you and holding tight to whatever he can cling to for purchase. His body weakens under the weight of your own, going completely tight like a bowstring before falling utterly helpless. Astarion moans loud when he cums, thick white ropes of it dressing the upholstery of the couch and falling to the floor. It’s an impressive amount. Save for what lands on the velvet, it pools thick and heavy. There’s so much, it’s like he can’t stop cumming. At least a minute passes before the twitching ceases.

He lays there, ragged and weightless and limp. You take your hand away from his mouth and slowly ease yourself out of him as he stays and catches his breath. You press soft, warm pecks up his spine.

You move away from him to give him some space to breathe, sitting back criss-cross on the ground. Astarion has no intention of getting up on his own, though. Before you can make sense of it, he crawls over to you. He must be worn out, given how willingly he’s coming into your arms in pure exhaustion. His cock is spent, soft against his belly and pink. He’s still naked and leashed.

Still needy, but the lust has subsided if only a little. Astarion seats himself between your open legs. You laugh lightly, letting him rest in your side - face in the crook of your neck in utter exhaustion.

“Hero of Baldurs Gate this, savior of the city that. I know evil when I see it, darling. Just outright cruel.”

You break out into a laugh at the change in behavior as he pulls away to look at you. His eyes are remarkably watery.

“That claim is undermined by that mess you’ve made on the floor there. Did you enjoy yourself?”

He almost looks embarrassed by it, a pinkish tint turning the tips of his ears bright.

“You’ve given me two terrible choices. I say yes and you think it’s a clever idea to do it again or I say no and I never experience whatever that was again in my life. A lose-lose situation.”

“So you did enjoy it,” You say warmly. Astarion scoffs but doesn’t protest. “I’m glad. You’re very attractive when you’re pitiful.”

“What despicable taste. I’m beautiful irregardless.”

You let your head bump against his, and Astarion half-heartedly returns the gesture. “That’s true. A sight for sore eyes as they say.”

“If you’re true to your word then I’ve earned a little more than just one,” Astarion purrs. Before that, he examines your (still bleeding hand) and picks your palm up to kiss. You grin wildy at his tongue lapping over the wound. “And you’re properly pent up, aren’t you? Let's get this cleaned up and let the real fun begin.”

“Aren’t you insatiable today? As you wish, my prince. We can move upstairs.”

He bemoans this. “You’ll have to drag my undead body up there if you’re asking me to get on my own two feet.”

“Or I could carry you like a bride.”

“A bride? How ostentatious. I’ll allow it.” Astarion says, then adds more quietly. “But we can stay… here a little longer first.”

You hum against his skin, peppering his face with soft kisses; he doesn't turn you away from the skinship, which you’re pleased by. “Of course my love,”

He lays in your arms quietly and the thought reaffirms itself. You’d do anything for him.

✧ a/n : no one is more upset by the length of this than me. trust and believe this. also sorry for the yapping i just... posting this is so foreboding. it feels like that picture of spongebob who puts his hands up so a car doesn't fall on him. i am Afraid.

maybe ill write a part two of him eating box or something. we'll see. anyway thanks for reading </3. please do rb if you enjoyed. so scared to be in the tags for this.

#rogues love letters #bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate x reader #what other tags..idk..#this fucking thing cooked me to death i hate this guy BOOO throws tomatoes at him #zeros.dr #sub astarion

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chrissturnsgirlll222 · 3 months

Text

second, never first

part one | part two | part three | part four

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - underage drinking, throwing up, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol and yes i am 18) currently not proofread or written with pristine punctuation

word count - 2500+?? (i know its long but i had a bunch of ideas for the beginning)

this is also my first story so pls be kind :) also just wanted to mention that i wouldn’t have the courage to write and post if it werent for other writers on this app so i would just like to tag and thank a few accounts who inspired me to write<3

@lovingmattysposts @flowerxbunnie @strniohoeee @lacysturniolo @strawberrysturniolo @flynnriderishot @stuniolobbg

for as long as i could remember, being the second option was all i knew. just always being the backup, never the go to.

this constant course of events led to my passion of reading and writing, pretty much consuming myself with content or sources that provided me with a sense of belonging, or just putting myself into a different reality.

i always had been drawn to romance. its a un-comforting comfort for me, if that makes sense. i love reading about it and watching movies about it but love just seemed so out of reach. im sure many people feel this way but i just believe there are certain people in the world that just go through life without any sort of romantic experiences. now while that may be true i also think thats just something i made up in my head to comfort myself from the fact that i have never had a single romantic experience, ever. i mean im 17 years old and havent even had my first kiss. hell i havent even held hands with a boy.

that of course all changed during my senior year.

“oh my god look at what cody sent me” anna says.

anna is my best friend, though at times she felt like my biggest competition. she is everything im not. constantly talking to boys, what people consider ‘boy pretty’, very out going and popular. the fun one.

i look over at her phone to see a text from one of the many boys shes talked to in the past year “i thought you guys were done?” i say

“yeah were not talking like that anymore but i still talk to him here and there” she says

“i dont know if thats the best idea, i mean if you guys keep talking hes probably going to get the wrong impression”

“your such a buzz kill sometimes” she says slightly annoyed. i stay silent. I might sound like a complete bitch here but when your friend is constantly talking or complaining about guy, a, b and c you eventually get bored and exhausted of hearing about it, I try my hardest to be understanding when she brings up guys, but I’m apparently never supportive enough to her standards. I suppose she wants me to be there and give her advice but what do I have to offer to that conversation?

we were driving through the school parking lot to park in our usual spot next to chris.

chris is, well complicated. ive known him since 7th grade and hated him up until about 3 months ago when senior year started. the friendship started off with him just parking next to my car everyday and him just pestering me all the time but the longer we kept parking together, the more we grew to enjoy our casual conversations.

we both roll down our windows.

“morning” i say waving at him, anna does the same “hey, i wanna skip first block if you guys are down” he says “you know i would never say to to that” anna says “ehh i dont know about today i have a bio project i need to work on and didnt getting the planning sheet so i should probably head in” i say

“alright, anna come on i wanna get mcdonalds” chris says tapping on his passenger seat.

“looks like its just us this morning! y/n me and chris can just go get food and ill bring you back something for lunch” anna says turning to me.

“ill see you guys at lunch” i say grabbing my bag and locking my car doors as anna gets in to chris’ car and they drive off.

if you havent caught the weird passive tone from anna, thats how she was. no matter how much i tried she always had to be the centre of attention . i honestly dont even think she does it on purpose. i love her and she is my best friend but i just find her insufferable at times, its just who she is. chris is a great friend to me but i always caught the vibe that chris liked anna or at least thought she was hot. which is also why i think he treats her with more respect than me.

now when i said we grew to like eachother i left out a slight detail.

even though i hated chris for most of high school for the way he treated me and constantly teased me, i couldnt help myself from starring at him from time to time as he talked or even looking at his hands. not only was he visually pleasing he could be really sweet and the conversations we shared were really meaningful at times. was he attractive, yes. was he a complete asshole to me for years and still hasnt apologized, yes. did i completely fall head over heels for him when he began to show me his nice side, sadly yes.

its so cliche but i fell for my “bully” so to speak. i hated myself for it but what i hated even more was how much i let my feelings for him effect how i saw myself even more as the second option. if it came down to it and me anna and him were the only people in the world he would still fuck anna before he even though about kissing me.

i know that i might only feel this way towards him simply because hes the only male thats shown me any attention at all. though it hasnt always been positive or romantic it was still something that i had never experienced from a male before.

like i said, second option.

i finish up my final class and head out to my car and wait for anna who is doing god knows what considering i drive her home everyday after school. while waiting for anna, chris gets into his car and starts it to heat up as it is the beginning of winter. i watch what hes doing through his car window as he scrolls on his phone for a sec and then storms into the backseat of my car, always the backseat.

my head whips around to look at him and he looks annoyed. “why do you look mad” i say. “look at what this bitch said to me” he says leaning up to the middle console shoving his phone in my face and i read texts from a girl hes talking to.

friday 3:14pm

alice: chris i cant keep talking to you

chris: what do you mean

alice: i mean that i cant keep talking to you what were doing is messing with my head and i dont want to be a victim of one of your fuck and dumps

chris: im sure i have many other girls who would kill to be in your position

alice: then go have them i dont want to be apart of your sick and twisted hookups

“ok wow” i say my eyes wide “i didnt even know you were talking to alice”

“well now you do, and im not anymore apparently” he says throwing his arms up as he sinks in to the middle seat. “we have been fucking since the halloween party, remember when i kissed her infront of you?” he says in a duh tone.

ah yes halloween. the night i went home crying after said kiss was shared infront of my face.

“yes i remember” i say blankly.

“we were supposed to hangout tonight but she decided to blow me off, i was ready to get my dick wet but i guess ill just have to be fucking boring alone” he says as i make a disgusted face.

“well i dont know what to te-“ i was cut off by anna coming into the car.

“ok sorry i took so long but i was just getting the details for a party tonight!” she says out of breath. chris sits up at the news, “maybe i will get my dick wet then.” he says smirking and jokingly raising his eyebrows.

“what? alice blew you off already.” anna says turning to chris. i dont bother questioning why anna knew and i didnt because im sure i know answer.

“yep and im scoring tonight.” he says fake punching the air as me and anna giggle.

anna and i finished getting ready at her place, her wearing jeans and a hot pink tank top and me in black jeans and a white long sleeve crop top. i stare at myself in the mirror when i hear annas phone go off with a text from chris.

friday 10:27pm

chris: here

“anna! chris is here!” i yell grabbing my phone and my drinks for the night from my bag and start making my way downstairs as i hear her close behind me. i tie up my shoes as i hear her grab her drinks from her fridge and say bye her parents. i wave goodbye to her parents as well and we make our way out to chris’ car.

upon entering were greeted by matt, chris’ brother in the passenger seat.

“hey matt i didnt know you were coming out tonight!” i say smiling at him as loud music blasts from chris’ speakers.

“yeah nicks also going so i just tagged along, plus i need to drive you guys home since chris is drinking tonight.” he says lightly punching chris in the arm. “oh yeah, speaking of nick where is he?” i say. “nicks already there he came with his friends.” i nod in response and sit back starting to chug down one of my drinks. i may be a buzz kill in annas eyes but i knew how to party and loved drinking with my friends.

matt is chris’ triplet brother along with nick. i never really got to know his brothers all that well, i just know that matt has become a lot more comfortable around me and anna as we have started to spend more time with chris.

once we arrive to the party me and anna walk around to see whos there and we meet up with some of our other friends. i can see chris from across the room laughing and talking to nick and matt.

the night goes on and i finish my fourth cooler of the night and head out to the car to grab another. when i step outside the cool air hits me and i instantly regret the 2 shots of tequila i had on top of the fruity coolers i had throughout the night. shivering and rubbing my arms i continue walking to chris’ car to sit down for a sec and when i reach the backseat i see chris’ naked back and steamy windows. i take a step back once i realize whats happening.

i knew he was going to end up fucking someone tonight since thats what he said his plan was but i did not need to fucking see it. hes not mine for the taking obviously, but seeing him constantly with girls just hurt.

i turn around to walk back into the house but suddenly feel sick to my stomach. i hunch over and throw up in the middle of the road. i cough and collapse to my knees continuing to gag as strings of spit come out of my mouth. i hear a car door shut behind me as i try to stand up wiping my mouth. i feel arms grab my waist and pick me up bridal style and thats the last thing i remember before everything went black.

i wake up in a car with the same clothes on from the party, still drunk, my hair crispy and the smell of cologne. i look around me and realize its chris’ backseat im laying in but its still pitch black out.

i hear faint voices outside and the door my head is resting on swings open and my head flys back.

“holy shit chris are you trying to kill her” i hear matts voice. “shut up, i didn’t know you put her head there.” chris says as he starts pulling me out of the car.

“chris” i say quietly. “holy shit your awake” he says leaving me to sit up. “yeah i am, what happened. i think i- blacked out.” i say slurring my words.

“well i was in the middle of getting with summer-“ he says getting on his knees to talk to me better “and i just heard gagging outside the car and it was bothering me and i looked outside the car and you were bent over on the middle of the road throwing up. i just grabbed you and told summer to fuck off and put you in the car while i grabbed matt and anna.”

“oh my god” i say as i nod off.

“woah woah stay with us here, chris lets get her inside now” matt says placing my head back up.

“where is anna?” i question.

“we had to drop her home and bring you to our house since she said her parents couldn’t see you like this.”

“of course” i say

classic anna.

“what time is it?” i ask rubbing my eyes.

“2:44am” chris grunts taking me out of the car.

“ok lets get you inside” chris says pulling me up to stand. “you think you can walk inside?” he says still holding me up. “ill try.”

he lets go of me and i slowly make it up to the front of their house but start wobbling once i reach the steps and feel both matt and chris grab either side of me and help me up to the front door. matt holds on to my arm as he uses the house key to get inside and i walk in.

they walk me over to the living room couch and i slump over resting my head on the arm rest of the couch.

“where is she going to sleep?” matt says. “my room obviously.” chris says as i smile to myself.

“come on y/n” he says picking me up again and bringing me to his room to lay on his bed. “im gonna give you clothes to change into since yours are covered in vomit.” he says opening drawers. i nod my head as my eyes close.

he tosses me a big white shirt with some graphic designing on it “can you dress yourself or-“ i cut him off “yea- yeah i got it” i say sitting up right and hiccup.

he turns around so i can change into the shirt. i begin taking my long sleeve off and i get one arm off before i get stuck. “chris, help” i say quietly and he turns around to see me with my arms slouched and my eyes closed. he rushes over “lift up your arms” he says pulling my hands up. i hold them up as he grabs the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls up. i admire chris as he pulls off the shirt completely throwing my shirt across the room all while being careful not to look at me.

he grabs his shirt and places it gently over my head and then threading my arms through the shirt. “wait” he says walking over to his closet, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and walking over to me with them. i sit there with my eyes closed smiling as i had thought about the scenario of him taking my clothes off many times, just not the me being so drunk i cant dress myself part.

he takes my jeans off and helps me in to his sweatpants still being respectful and not starring at my body. “ill be right back just sit here im going to get you water and an advil.” he say as he walks out of the room. i just sit there, my eyes still closed, still smiling and nod at his sentence.

i lay back down on his bed and wait as i hear him rushing upstairs talking to matt and nick before walking back in to the room sitting down at the end of his bed. “sit snd open up.” i obliged to his words before he places two advils on my tongue.

“im going to fill up your mouth with water so don’t breathe.” he says opening up a water bottle and slowly pouring some in to my mouth while my head tilts upwards slightly. he watches me with concern as i swallow the water.

“please never get drunk like this ever again, you really freaked everyone out kid.” he says. i don’t respond and nod at his words.

kid, the all too familiar nickname chris gave me. it always made me feel weird when he called me this as if he was an authority figure or something.

i lay back down on his bed and close my eyes and quickly drift off to sleep. the last thing i remember from that night is him crawling in to his bed next to me and turning off his light.

“goodnight kid”

thank you for reading!!!

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x y/n

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bl3ss3dbyt1amat · 3 months

Text

misc bg3 companion hc

this is so much. i have no idea and im also sorry. all of the origin companions included under the cut

astarion:

i feel like he claps funny. like hes clapping but its that specific way thats meant to be like quieter? like clapping on the palm of his hand. this might be projection but i feel like hes also the type of person to do like a little clap or a spin or his trademark ridiculous giggle whenever hes happy.

i think that hes prone to dramatics like. like pretending to fall on the floor and die if you say hes actually not on your mind 24/7. oh whats that? you dont think im the prettiest princess in the entire world? well astarion has dramatically fallen to the floor

in the early game astarion most definitely practiced his lines loudly and publicly (in camp). he cant even see himself in the mirror but hes trying to look all suave and being like "shall i compare thee to a summers night" while lae'zel and shadowheart both shout "NO" from across the camp. (can be interpreted as bloodiedblade/wyllstarion but i think wyll would be amused and even finish the quote).

wyll:

this man is probably good with basic medicines and ill die on this hill. hes got aloe vera type shit on him at all times. sure, hes not a cleric or healer or even a bard, but he'll stay with you and try his damned best to cheer you up when youre hurt or sick.

on a related note i feel like wyll would be absolutely DELIGHTED by a bard tav. he would just be so amused and filled with whimsy. never gonna complain about playing, even if its like 2am. just occasionally putting in song requests. hes so incredibly enthusiastic like spinning tav around like "THAT WAS BRILLIANT!!!"

wyll probably keeps houseplants. (minor blazingblade but i feel like karlach would accidentally kill one of the plants and actually begin weeping. once she gets her engine fixed wyll tries to teach her how to garden. this goes weirdly) furthermore i think he like goes around his house like humming merrily and watering his plants and crap

gale:

i dont think hes coordinated at all. like this man is tripping down the stairs on a daily basis. he is dropping his tea, his book, his body, ect. to the point that hes got a habit of just hugging the railing for dear life every time he has to go down a staircase. this made traversing shit like the underdark actually literally horrible. every time he falls karlach is so overly concerned and probably offers to carry him. astarion, to everyones dismay, dies laughing each and every time

pretty sure wyll and shadowheart have a conversation about weird book porn. i am here to say that gale was holding back his power while that conversation happened. gale has read so much book porn and if you knew the real scale of it you would be concerned. tara is concerned at least.

shadowheart:

especially during early game, i feel like shadowheart was literally clenching so hard to avoid admitting cute things were cute. like "oh.. a stray mutt... charming I MEAN IN LIKE A GROSS WAY". she was trying to hard to be all scary and into shar and shit but she just really likes puppies and other animals and crap

if she were modern i feel like she would really like pixar movies (inside out comes to mind for reasons i cannot explain) and wear long jean skirts. i cant explain any of this but it is fact in my mind. even in the bg3 setting i do feel like she would wear very long boxy type skirts. sort of plays into her whole "dark priestess" sort of vibe

shadowheart was sitting in her tent with scissors fucking losing her shit with anxiety trying to cut her own bangs without a mirror. it is a literal miracle from selune that they dont look like complete and total shit. no wonder halsin was surprised. (minor silverheart/shadow'zel: when she first like actually properly noticed what shaodwheart did with her hair, since the initial joke is she cant tell what changed, i think lae'zel was very impressed. she even likened it to like a sort of war paint against shar. also we KNOW lae'zel likes silver)

(can be interpreted as bladeheart/,,, do wyll and shadowheart have a ship name yet? HM. well anyway i think that in conjunction with the previous headcanon about wyll gardening, he and shadowheart garden together and he specially grew her night orchids)

lae'zel:

ever since i looked at her stupid little mindflayer training dummie in camp ive had the image of her in my head very angrily and intensly carving up a turnip to look like a mindflayer. draws a little mean face on it like the worlds most violent six year old. every time she messes up on her little DIY project shes muttering curses in tir'su.

lae'zel will take any opportunity to infodump about githyanki culture. specifically red dragons. if she met a red dragonborn or even maybe a follower of tiamat or some shit she would be so hype. in her "i hate everyone SVAH" way ofc. but like. trying to casually slide trivia into battle conversation or party banter with all the subtlety of an owlbear. "yes... the battle preparations are proceeding as expected... as expected a red dragons hibernation cycle..." and everyone just has to turn their head and ask what the fuck shes talking abt

(can be thought of as silverweave: lae'zel and gale talk in draconic about dragon history and the celestial plane. hes so tickled to have a mutual interest with lae'zel)

no one hears lae'zel laugh but when they do its so weird. like its some weird like hissing sort of sound and everyone has to do a double take and make sure theyre understanding what the fuck is going on for a second. lae'zel is incredibly defensive when people notice it but theyre not trying to be mean

karlach:

before her engine gets fixed but like early on to where shes not used to it, karlach keeps trying to touch things and keeps breaking them. this fills her with genuine despair and she will start crying (everyone in camp has to go on a group effort to calm her down). she just thinks the world is so beautiful and is so sad she cant interact with it

she likes to dance but in like a boot stompin way. karlach is probably just an absolute party animal when she gets her freedom back because honestly in her situation who wouldnt be. SHE JUST GOT TO NOT BE ON FIRE LET THE GIRL PARTY

once shes been fixed to the point where she can touch people, she just never stops. manhandling everyone in the party constantly. oh whats that? tav is on low health? dont worry karlach is sprinting over to put tav on her shoulder. literally any problem can be solved by karlach hugs and i wont be taking feedback on this

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #lae'zel of k'liir #karlach bg3 #karlach cliffgate #bg3 companions #bg3 headcanons

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suffarustuffaru · 4 months

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what is your opinion on the fact that tappei intended us to hate reinhard for killing theresia

hello!! :o im not sure if tappei really Intended for us to hate reinhard for that per say—i think more so tappei intends to show the astrea drama in general in a very nuanced manner (unless he proves me wrong and does weird stuff to develop them later on wjfnd but ill stand by this atm because theres a lot of textual evidence i think!!)

the arc 5 astrea drama is the very first time we learn about Any of that, and the way we learn it is interesting. this is AFTER getting attached to reinhard and wilhelm, who prior to arc 5 were established to be good well meaning and respectable people. then heinkel comes in claiming they both did shitty stuff, and of course heinkel makes the worst impression of all time, is shitty himself, AND interrupted wilhelm and reinhards reunion, so we’re not inclined to side with heinkel here. but the more we learn about the astrea family conflict, the more we realize, alongside subaru, that 1. wilhelm is not as great as he seems to be (its like learning that a close family member or friend has done some terrible stuff!! the common reaction to it is to feel Disappointed or Sad or maybe a little angry!!) and subaru also learns that 2. the entire situation is not black and white. it takes a heavy emotional toll on wilhelm, heinkel, and reinhard.

it’s also interesting that we dont Always learn info about it directly from the family members themselves—theresias dead of course and doesnt say much when she briefly comes back (more on this later), reinhard becomes more subdued around his family (which has gotta be a trauma response in an attempt to minimize the conflict), heinkel and wilhelm are unreliable narrators driven by their emotions. we learn some of the bulk of the drama from JULIUS, an outsider, but someone with ties to reinhard personally and the knights. so we’re also getting unreliable info about someone like heinkel (whos got a reputation thats honestly shittier than even his behavior, which i pity him for), and someone like reinhard is extremely hard to read (we just know that hes. you know. Traumatized. and Sad.)

i DO think though that throughout all of this we’re supposed to sympathize with EVERY astrea family member. every single one. we’re meant to understand each of their actions, because they all contribute to the family dysfunction unwillingly or consciously.

we’re given the reasoning behind almost all of their actions in the conflict. wilhelm lashed out because of grief, and hes spent years regretting what he did and not knowing how to fix things. heinkel’s an alcoholic from stress, trauma, and self-hatred, and post-arc 5 we see more of his psyche (which is shown in a very honest sympathetic light as well, hinting at heinkel getting future development and most likely a redemption arc). heinkel then lashes out (which is a Sad pattern in this family given wilhelm also does that... and its implied that heinkel is also like this Because of wilhelm's influence) to deal with all of this too (and because he Genuinely thinks those things now. hes a sad bitter man). we also know from side stories that heinkel used to be a good man who truly loved reinhard, and we do know that heinkel still loves louanna and has spent YEARS searching for a cure. as for reinhard, he was a CHILD (five when it first started!!) throughout almost all of this conflict, and hes the youngest member of his family and still young even as he’s grown up now. and he certainly didnt Intend to kill his own grandma when he was five, and he definitely deals with the guilt of all that years later. he shuts down around his family in the present, for one. and two—reinhard was failed by his family members, who have been ADULTS for the entire conflict and are his father and grandfather respectively. if anything, reinhard has the least blame here. he was a child!! a child thats been conditioned into serving the kingdom at All Costs to himself!! heinkel and wilhelms grief is understandable but it should not cost them their literal child!! they were the ones with the responsibility to pull themselves together and they failed to do that!!

but then reinhard kills theresia.

the thing with reinhard killing theresia is that reinhard was very much not wrong for that. tappei takes the time to show corpse soldier theresia going after heinkel and wilhelm—both of which are too weak in this moment physically and emotionally to stop theresia, WHO IS THEIR MOTHER AND WIFE RESPECTIVELY. and iirc wilhelm was also injured by her. heinkel pisses himself in fear while begging for her to stop—or something along those lines. its Terrifying. and it shows theresia, as she was in that moment, is a threat!! what else was reinhard going to do?? if he doesnt apprehend theresia, shes going to kill the rest of their family T^T

yeah so. reinhard kills theresia. afterwards, heinkel and wilhelm give reinhard shit for it but again, they were going to DIE if reinhard hadnt stepped in. and its clear that reinhard is saddened by what he had to do, even as he says that the corpse soldier theresia ISNT THERESIA. and reinhard is technically kind of right!! that was a corpse soldier!! she was both theresia (her last words to wilhelm are proof of this) and Not Theresia (she already died years ago!! this was a reanimated corpse!!).

its wilhelm and heinkel that misinterpret reinhard’s demeanor as him Not Caring. because he does care, but reinhard has always had an uncanny personality—likely partly because of trauma (remember how i said he shuts down a bit around his family? common trauma response) and partly because of reinhard’s endless divine protections giving him a very. Unique. perspective on everything. so reinhard has difficulty with connecting with others because of all of that. hes Really hard to read, especially in a complicated situation like this where its basically a lose-lose for everyone involved. wilhelm and heinkel are blinded by their grief and fear and anger and because reinhard 1. killed theresia, 2. said that that Wasnt Theresia, and 3. said he didnt regret killing theresia and 4. said that he did the right thing (which is probably because, again, what else could he do, theresia was going to kill heinkel and wilhelm)... yeah so wilhelm and heinkel read reinhard as being cold and unfeeling and callous so they both completely give up on reinhard in this moment. the coffin is. metaphorically and literally closed here, reinhard killing theresia (again. for the second time. if youre heinkel and wilhelm) was the very last nail.

and ultimately like. again, tappei gives us All the narrative tools to understand each member of the astrea family in this conflict. tappei also even notes the detail (iirc. in like a qna somewhere. if someone can find it or whatever please feel free to add!!) of theresia, on her death bed in arc 5, had nothing to say to reinhard and heinkel. its kind of. weird. when she makes SURE that wilhelm knows that she loves him but she doesnt even bother with her son and grandson - and heinkel does note that she looked at them "hatefully" (which. heinkel is an unreliable narrator, but its interesting for tappei to include that detail because heinkel also goes "she looked at us like That, who else could that be but mother?"). so uh. astrea family dynamics are complicated, have likely always been complicated even before everything went wrong with them, and tappei also gives us theresias full backstory in her pov in arc 5. AND he shows that the corpse soldier was still. Theresia. in the end. its extremely complicated. tappei takes the time to show that with every detail.

so anyway. yeah i feel like we're meant to sympathize with everyone in the astrea family. theyre all people with their own flaws, theyve all contributed in some way to the conflict whether they like it or not, they all have various degrees of blame, if you really want to go into whos the Most Guilty for all the dysfunction. even poor louanna contributed indirectly via falling into a coma T^T

but i dont think tappei means for us to like hate any of them. just because tappei Always shows how complicated the situation is. tappei is Always sympathetic to all astrea members as much as tappei also often calls them out for their flaws (heinkel is the most obvious example, tappei also does it with theresia and wilhelm a bit, and reinhard is shown to be a bit stilted in social situations with a habit of stomping on other peoples boundaries sometimes without realizing or because he thinks its for the other persons good, etc). and as much as i love making jokes at wilhelms expense because he did fuck up quite a Lot with his family (same with heinkel... and im a little sus of theresia but she Did care about heinkel in the past, we know that from her named chapter)...

like. i can understand where someone like wilhelm is coming from. do i hate him for lashing out at his five year old grandson and helping turn his son against his grandson? oh yeah. yeah. but i can Understand why he did it and i feel bad for him, which i think was more so tappei's goal here. so the audience can hate any of these characters if you so feel like it, but tappei means for us to deeply deeply get where they're coming from and why they did what they did. so maybe its more so that we're not supposed to hate these characters, maybe we're just supposed to hate Their Actions and wish that things didnt turn out that way. because it couldve been better at any turn - wilhelm couldve just not lashed out and blamed reinhard when he was five, heinkel couldve also pulled himself together, louanna didnt have to go into a coma, theresia didnt have to die twice, etc etc. but thats the point of it all i think. it turned for the worse but all we can do is try to think about How it turned out this way. and i pity all of them, really.

plus, reinhard, wilhelm, heinkel are 1000% getting some kind of further development with this, i'd say. and rezero is Repeatedly about forgiveness and growth, so yeah. i absolutely dont think we're supposed to fully hate any of them. if anything, im rooting for their growth before its. you know. Too Late. but yeah thats just my extremely long opinion/feelings on all of this, people are totally free to disagree of course :o !! hope that answers your question though!!

#rezero #re:zero #ask #reinhard van astrea #theresia van astrea #wilhelm van astrea #heinkel astrea #arc 5 spoilers

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cartoonrival · 2 months

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ok + for goodness' sake sasuke so that the screenshot takes up less space

1)parallels between naruto/sasuke and naruto/kawaki. i think honestly carrying over and actually bringing attention to the love-obsession thing that was going on sort of mostly unaddressed in the original series (in terms of no one called naruto as insane as they frankly shouldve) has the potential to be very interesting, especially because bringing it into the sphere of a father-son relationship rather than a platonic/romantic one is not really something i've seen before, along with the fact that kawaki doesn't actually know naruto much at all, making this very much an idolization of an idea of the person who saved you, someone who can do no wrong and is so without flaw. it was what this dude said:

like kawaki's obsession is weird and emblematic of how he grew up. also, the way that both of them sort of end up treating the other like a thing to be protected or owned or passed around, kawaki trapping him in time prison with zero regards for the fact that no one wants to be in time prison, and naruto's famous "give sasuke back/dont talk about sasuke like you own him in front of me/i'll get sasuke back/ill break your legs if i have to", there is the dismissal of actual personal wants However.

kawaki does this because he thinks that naruto's life is worth more than anything ever, and the reason he thinks this is because he thinks naruto is the most perfect person in the world and the only one who can save the world from evil. in naruto's case, even though he has a habit of possessiveness, sasuke is very much still a person to him, someone he violently and desperately wants to be close to. he doesnt think sasuke is perfect or can do no wrong, he just doesnt really give a fuck what wrong things sasuke does because he loves him too much and wants him too bad to ever hold anything against him. anything sasuke does is understandable and forgivable. naruto wouldnt put sasuke in time prison to protect him because then they couldnt hang out, and he knows sasuke wouldnt want that anyways. while i think naruto's obsession is insane, its more possessive than dehumanizing, which is def the angle kawaki is taking. again, i think this could be interesting if it was expounded upon but i dont think anyone in boruto is enough of a character for this actually do be pulled off in any satisfying way.

2)boruto/kawaki vs naruto/sasuke. i think honestly i just dont really have it in me to even act like kawaki and boruto have a dynamic that even comes close to the bullshit naruto and sasuke have going on, but if i were to attempt to explain why i dont think this is the case than i think at least part of it (beyond the fact taht ever character in boruto is painfully undercooked) is that boruto and kawaki's bond is based almost entirely around both being marked by karma. like they become friends sort of on a more surface level same way boruto is friends with anyone else, but its definitely not the same as naruto and sasuke's inexplicable pull towards one another since they were kids. even though kawaki has like sort of stupid convoluted internal strife going on, boruto doesnt honestly have enough inner issues to even shadow the bizarre knot that is sns. boruto and naruto both didn't want to kill their wayward friends because it's hard to kill someone you care about, i don't think that reads as a strong parallel because its like . what kind of story would it be if boruto was just like Okay lets kill him... now! also if kawaki dies naruto stays trapped im p sure so if he kills kawaki he is also functionally killing his dad

3)naruto and sasuke are both terrible parents but sasuke is leagues leagues leagues worse and he sees boruto has his son more than he will ever see sarada as his daughter. to him, she is his daughter because that is the only way she should have the sharingan. he can't really stand being around her and any interaction he has with her is out of guilt. boruto is his son because boruto is naruto's son

4)why did they bring up that jiraiya might get resurrected and then just drop it or is this me forgetting since i watched boruto 6+ months ago

#txt157 #nrto #boruto

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gamblersdoll · 5 months

Text

ITS THE MATTER OF IT … chapter 4

tw: mentions of busts, nasty things.

for a better reading experience, please listen to the following songs “i will possess your heart” by chained to the bottom of the ocean and “kaizoku” by ibaraki on spotify, apple music, or youtube. enjoy!

your heart was racing, but not out of fear.

not by anxiety, but by defense.

“its been a while, y/n.” sukuna said, how could he say that when you havent even met him before? “its been a while since ive seen that face.”

so this is what he kind of looked like. tattoos on his face made yuuji look rugged. but if you had to ruin it, then oh well be it. you should arm yourself, you had thought to yourself. it seemed like sukuna already understood it.

“theres no need to defend yourself, i already said you wouldnt be harmed unless you provoke me.” he chuckled, getting closer and examining you. his eyes felt like he would’ve devoured you, like a damn maniac. he more than likely would have if it was his thing or not.

“the only thing thats changed is your tits.” he said amused. he eyed them, licking his teeth as if wanted to bite them. you wouldve felt your face get hot from the king of curses talking about it….

but you didnt.

“what is it.” you meant to sound like a question was being asked, but because of your tone and demeanor it sounded like you were talking at sukuna, not to. luckily for you, he didnt catch onto that, instead he looked happy that you were at least speaking.

“you know what,” sukuna paused, lowering his gaze. “you surely dont think that i was just making an appearance to say hi, do you? or do you not believe you are the reinca-“

“–i am not some reincarnation!” you growled out, cutting him off. that shouldve been a mistake on your end, but for some reason he didnt care. “im just … me.” you trailed off.

“you look the same way you did a thousand years ago, little one.” he chuckled, practically in your face. you bet he only smelled decent since yuuji was decent with hygiene. “whether you like it or not, you are. eventually, youll grow happy that you are— or maybe just comfortable with the fact that you and i…” he took his finger and pointed back and forth between himself and you.

“we have history. whether the memories or knowledge comes to you, we do. and there isnt anything you can do.” he laughed, his pearly whites on display and he put his hands on your shoulders. “now that you are here though…”

“why didnt you say anything back then.” he asked, when the fuck did he have you cornered? this was bad, real bad.

“yes, because i completely remember what exactly happened during a thousand years ago.” you sarcastically said, rolling your eyes. “remind me of what happened with–“ you made air quotation marks with your fingers, “me and you?”

“we were close, you had feelings i guess yaddy yadda yadda.. you developed hanahaki disease, you died.” sukuna recalled, growing sarcastic as well. “why didnt you say anything to me?” he asked, growing serious again.

“realistically speaking, if i were to admit my feelings to you, you either wouldnt care, youd laugh in my face while laying down with another woman, or would just kill me and move on with your life.” you said in a matter of factly tone, he was a cursed spirit after all.

could he even experience love like emotions at all?

“you could be wrong, considering how strong you were before.” he said, which made your ears ring.

did this motherfucker call you weak?

“are you saying im weak?” you asked, planning to make a move, which could result in sudden death or a missing limb if he felt forgiving.

“not exactly, but since you are reincarnated, we never know if youre rusty or your strength depleted.” he said, taking several steps back. “if you land a blow on me, ill take back what i said, and ill settle with any conditions you may have for me.”

“and if not, then you have to accept that you are what people say you are, and youll have to work under me.” he said—

a challenge.

and a challenge that granted you authority in some areas.

…

…..

……

a challenge that seemed unrealistic!

you had been working your ass off to land a blow, not even bothering to use your domain. you were simply out of breath, your hair a mess from the constant movement.

“this isnt the beginning of you, y/n.” sukuna had said with his hands in his pockets. he was certainly worried you had lost your abilities over a thousand years, but he also thought you were always a teasing woman.

come on, y/n, think.

think, goddamnit, think!

would it.. work on him?

you ran towards him knowing he would throw his hit first—

until black particles floated in the air, forming in the shape of the human skeleton. sukuna’s eyes widen, focusing on the black matter in-front of him, bringing its fist back to throw a punch—

until he realized that you were also landing a blow into his abdomen, now having to deal with a blow in the face but also in his beloved stomach.

a reversed curse technique, is what made you, you. you could separate your soul from your body into black matter, allowing the soul to fight with you, along side of your original body. making you somewhat immortal, only in certain circumstances would it kill you.

only one knew of this technique… only one had done it successfully a thousand years ago, against sukuna, and won.

sukuna had looked away and spat, laughing at nothing. you had landed a blow– two matter of fact. he then looked at you, and smiled.

“what do you feel?” he asked, he knew you had to have felt it, too.

deja vu.

“ive… been here before.” you admitted, watching him smile the wicked grin he carried.

———

“so… what did you tell him?”yuuji asked, eating his burger on your bed that you specifically told him not to do. he had laid down plastic wrap around him though to not ruin your satin silk bedding, which you’d appreciated.

“he doesn’t cause mass destruction, him not killing anyone unless necessary, and how hed teach me some things since i had won.” you said, eating a chicken philly. yuuji had since learned you loved them, occasionally eating steak philly but preferring chicken. so, the boy had brought you one. what a sweetie.

“oh! well.. thats good— hey i think we should sleep, since nobara had planned for us to hang out tomorrow all day.” he reminded, getting up and leaning down to hug you.

when did you both decide to start hugs, was beyond you.

“goodnight!” yuuji said, waving at you and you only replying with a “night.” made him smile. only when he reached his bed was when it went down hill for him…

or uphill?

“can you please stop talking about it?” yuuji asked sukuna, sukuna had decided to breakdown what had happened with you and him. but sukuna was infact a perv— of course he was, hes a curse!

“you dont look at y/n and think about how deep you could go in that–“ yuuji had cut sukuna off,

“stop it!” yuuji had growled out at him, only causing sukuna to laugh uncontrollably at his little outburst. “shes more than that!”

“well of course she is, but you gunna sit here and tell me you wouldnt tap that?” sukuna had asked, growing curious. yuuji had stayed quiet, ignoring the question until he thought about you.

the way you said his name, the way you walk, how you didnt take anything, the way you eat…

the way your shirt would tighten around certain areas of your body, the length of your legs. he had let out a frustrated sigh. he would feel bad if he did anything like that to the thought of you, like he was the biggest perv in the world…

but did you think like that about him, too?

honorable tags: @lisaaannna @coldbreadbouquetworld all reposts and shares are appreciated to see more of my work!

…

…..

(chapter 2 of “THE WARM THE COLD THE SIX coming soon!)

#jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk yuuji #jjk sukuna #nobara kugisaki #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x you #sukuna x you #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader

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hero-next-door · 29 days

Text

Defending Nathan

(From Every Accusation)

All fact proven & common sense theory

No bullshit.

I suck at grammar. Deal with it.

I've replayed the game far too many times to gather this. I read into everything and even read into and WATCHED people who have suffered the same mental illness and situations Nathan has been in.

What I'll be covering:

Illness, rib breaking, dead animals, bdsm, Chloes pic, Rachel, gun on campus, Kate, Pompidou, Jefferson, wealth and his father.

And dont even THINK about skiping ahead!

Everything here is tied into one another. Read from start to finish. You're on this post to understand right? Or to argue? Im not here to argue so, bye.

Lets start from the top...

Nathans downfall was caused by society and all who failed him. He's driven by hatred of others who don't understand him and the game purposly wrote him off that way. They want players to hate him from what sides of the stories we've experienced. They gave this character controversial hobbies and a cynical bully attitude to really keep you suspecting him and not guessing Jefferson. The game isn't about Nathan. Its about Max. We learn so much about Max and everyone close to her. The tears they shed, the pains they've endorsed. Same with Chloe and Rachel's story. My heart goes out to all of them. We don't get to see that with other characters, therefore we don't care for them...or that's the games intentions. We don't know the ins and outs of Nathan. Only what the game shows us which are all negative. So of course disliking Nathan is only reasonable.

Mental Illness

We start with mental illness. He has Psychosis. Lots of proof, but i'm assuming you've seen it all already. Do people know what Psychosis is? Like do they REALLY know what it is? Because this ALONE changes everything. And not Psychopathy ..Psychosis. Two different things pookie. Psychopathy is the one where part of the brain is missing or disturbed. THEY'RE the ones that don't have empathy. Psychosis is different. Anybody can get it. This illness can take your empathy and awarness away then bring it all back after the harm is done, leaving you to process that. Schizo and Bipolar are also all quite a handful to deal with too. Loud Noises/downgrading voices in your head SO LOUD that people will do anything to calm them. (Dont be shy, youtube: "28- Psychotic Episode" by Collège d'Alma) The feeling of loosing your mind is something I notice a lot of haters dont empathize on especially if they killed or hurt sombody. The brain slips into a state so disconnected that interviews with recovering patients I've seen describe it as confusing and scary and dont recall saying the stories they told and actions they did others. Imagine not being able to remember the hurtful things you've said and done. Imagine being told you killed sombody...with your own hands? And you can hardly remember what happened. Like... how would you react? Think about it. Anybody can get psychosis with enough trauma or a kick in the noggin. Some people that were interviewed that had psychosis said that they found relief when getting high or drunk. Little did they know the symptoms could bounce back up to 5x during withdraw. But they were so desperate to get rid of the voices they abused the drugs. Like....wow the game really did their research to create such a complicated character. Anyway..moving on.

Now lets break down everything else...

Shooting Chloe

Just rewatch it. Aims gun, Chloe pushes him, it tightens grip, ACCIDENTLY shoots her, immediately drops gun and gets really scared of he's done, checking to see if shes alive! If you specifically rewatch the ending of Lis1 when Chloe gets shot, they extend his reaction. He goes back and forth checking her body. If he wanted to kill her, you check pulse then run. Not sticking around crying about it. There's your empathy you're all saying he doesnt have. Other times where he could have showed more empathy ties with his Psychosis. Some people with the illness said that the voices loudly in their head will convince them that everyone around you is your enemy. Everyone is after you. It can twist your brain to feel anger and fear towards others. Nathan is always hung up on how everyone is using him and trying to control him. Which people ..DO use him. So now hes convinced that everyone is. He's not choosing to feel this way. He just needs psychiatric help.

Breaking Ribs

In Before The Storm his entire demeanor is completely different than the Lis 1. He's more cowardly and not loud and aggressive. We'll be mentioning his creepy "pervy" binder, later. Nathan isn't violent until the end IF you let Nathan get bullied and push his life the negative direction. Sure its not Chloe's responsibility but this is the game's way of showing you his downfall. We need to remember the game hides scenes and expect you to make up what happened behind the scenes. He broke Samantha's ribs over ..what? Shes always so desperate to defend Nathan and even gets upset with Chloe when she doesn't help. So if you tell her the wrong option to pressure kindness into Nathan it results in him breaking ribs. How though? Haters immediately hop on and say cause hes a mean and abusive non-empathic nut head. You sure he didnt just push her away and her clumsiness just fell over? This took place after the play...so he possibly...pushed her off... 😰 She did say she was clumsy. You don't think she wouldnt have tried to hug or touch him in anyway. Ok ok...calm down... lets take a step back.. You get this "breaking ribs" ending from letting Nathan get bullied and embarrass himself during the play that his father pressured him about! Adding a little "..fuck you.." to the audience. Showing his start to his villian career and the start of him hating everyone and you tell Samantha to go hug him!? This is the start of his mental spiral if you let things play out this way. But hurting her with intention? No. Lets tie this in with the other endings to their relationship. You get the clumsy ending. She hurts herself differently and Nathan is with her in the hospital. Saying how he feels bad that she got hurt. (empathy bell) And they continue yo talk about her photo or whatever. Tie this with the rib one, tie this with the Chloe getting shot incident and tie this with his mental illness. Come on do i gotta spell it out for you.. Hurting someone is not what he attends to do. Like he quotes in his voice mail. (Speaking of that voice mail, empathy bell.) He does get angry at Samantha and hurts her and we as players dont know the full story. But what was playing in his head seconds before and the entirety of the game that lead up to this IS the reason why he accidentally hurts her. His anger from the entire game waa built up and unfortunately released on her. Whatever happened, breaking her ribs was not on his todo list! And then we have.. The good ending. Him sitting beside her smiling. Oh wait! Hes a little psycho with no human emotion? Psychosis has all parts of the brain attached, pookie. For most cases, It can be cured and helped. I can get it, YOU can get it. He has human emotions when he is at his very rare peaceful moments like with this good ending, when with Victoria ig and other scenes we tend to forget. Because painting him as the villian was the games goal. Jefferson was the plot twist.

Daddy Issues, Smug talk and a Gun on campus

Simple guys. Simple. You represent this school. You represent our name. This is a legacy. You will not embarrass me. This isn't about you or your problems!

Sure YOU wouldn't crumble under that pressure but Nathan sure did. Sure child abuse isn't an excuse to "kill" people. But is it the child's fault? Sean-beanbag prescott should be arrested for not taking his boy to the asylum. Instead he argues with a doctor!? Goofy bro. But so many people are fueled with anger towards Nathan Instead. Its whatever. Prescott literally being his name was already a red flag to other characters and chose to hate and bully him over it. Drew hated for what his FATHER did. Nathan did ..what again? Notice how that "rich Malfoy talk" wasnt really present in Before The Storm. Sure he tried to burn Drew with a family financial situation insult but the "Im rich, my father owns everything, I got a lawyer, money this and that" wasn't in his character in the Before the Storm. I believe being a prescott wasn't really in his future goals and he wasnt ever really passionate about it. Its all in the annoyance in his tone with his father before the play. Lis1 he uses it so oftenly to show that hes the boss and in control. Hes Influenced by representation for his family/school, wealth, intimidation, and of course hatred and believing everyone hates him. In his mind everyone is against him, after him and wanting to use him. Again, he doesn't choose to think this way. Let me explain my last sentence clearly though. Imagine being surrounded by a ton of people. All their attention is on you. They hate who you are. They talk about you. You have a defensless stomach sinking feeling and scared because all these people surrounding you, are looking at you and all your insecurities and laughing at you. Well..obviously some of that is not going on in reality. But to Nathan, that IS his reality and he has no control over it. Anyways I shouldn't have to keep explaining mental illness and how it stresses the brain. Bottom line is, His status and waving a gun around is what he thinks keep others out of his head. He can barley throw a punch. He had to use his head on warren and did you catch when Max hit him in that scene? Dude was literally holding onto his face like he'd been battered. Like she did NOT hit that hard lmao. He's weak. He's always been the same tiny Nathan from before the storm. Just now he uses masks for intimidation to stop his bullies and anyone he thinks is "after him." He never meant to use a gun on anybody, just a threat. During the second scene where warren reunited a head butt with Nathan.. If you pull off warren, he barley even aims the gun when he ran away towards his room. Cowardly. He feels that he has to, to protect himself. He also uses his father as a threat, but clearly that never worked. Also notice him crying when you let Warren get crazy on him? Dudes apologizing and sobing? Guess thats not his first rodeo, rip.

BDSM and Dead Animals

Ok..so hes a little frisky. Y'all need to remember this is a fictional game first, okay? Lol Anyway, I can't defend him much here but I got something. Firstly, the game WANTS you to suspect Nathan. Can't keep his room pretty and pink, they have to make it freaky and spooky. They paint Nathan as the villian for you to only focus on him as a suspect. So that everyones jaws are dropped with Jefferson twirls in.

Well start with the dead animals so you can skip the BDSM part if you want.

There is no proof he hurt animals. Thats not really like him. He does have a list of illness but Psychopathy isn't one of them. Y'all can keep yappin but its not. Clearly NOT one of them. He could have hurt an animal during an unaware episode, but there will not be any awareness behind it. Anyways, there are plenty of artists that do the same thing. Nathan is very passionate about photography and protraying solitary but not in the same way Jefferson does. Jefferson certainly uses that manipulation but we'll get to that later. There are artists that like to shine on death in positive light and in sorrow. There's also beauty in anatomy. Not my cup of tea but someone close to me can name me all kinds of gross organs and would be down to disect any animal. Yuck. But to them.. its fascinating and they are the greatest person in my life. In love and in empathy. (NOT comparing my pookie to Nathan, PAUSE.) In anatomy theres Education and surprise. Death is also a theme and style too. Skulls and gore, super "rad" fukin "knarly."

BDSM Skip to next part if needed

Finally...defending BDSM? This can bring trauma to those who have experienced it negativly or view it negativly. So skip to the Frank defense or read more if you want.

Bdsm relationships are very controversial. Some people see it as unhealthy, abusive and sick. But if you have talked to or listened to other people within these relationships they state that its completely consensual, safe, harmless, a breach of deep trust with their partners and simply a fetish or kink. The goal is to have fun at your limit..not pass the limit. There are twisted people who have broke that barrier and made it not fun and abusive. Thats were I can't argue. If you feel that way towards the topic, I completly empathize with you.

Nathan has shown in his other photos a black and white theme of solitary. And you can tell that he might have took those bdsm photos himself. As the quality is almost like the Pompidou photo. Everyone blends him taking bdsm photos with is angry behavior and "non empathic" demeanor. But this is where I loop back to Before The Storm hugging-my-binder Nathan. Its shown that in one of his endings he took photos of Samantha. Obviously NOT bdsm photos, his binder was a school project. But Samantha obviously consented and Nathan was passionate enough to show her. He sees them as art. Naked girls have been models for sculptures and paintings. Its beauty. Thats IF she was naked in some way in those photos. Which I still doubt. School project. Im sure the photos were gentle and strange and misunderstood and Drew was just in his bully era. His reaction would have been a lot more eye opening if he had a face full of tits or straps. Nathan begged for his binder back and even nervously reacted showing he had love for his work and 'took time with it' (as he quotes when Drew throws it). I bring this up here to show that the women in his photos were indeed given consent and if hes passionate about depicting his art, hurting them wouldn't be on his agenda. As we all learned today that hurting people was never his intentions, until drugs and illness met with pressure and intimidation clouds his brain.

I read up on other artists that painted things similar. In their paintings they expressed dread, vulnerability, feeling traped and ..feeling used. If Nathan did find the images he took arousing, then why would he hang them up like everything else in his room like art? I believe that they're depicted in an artful way and in its black and white shading brings a sad darkness. If its anything like the painters I mentioned, maybe Nathan has a deep level of empathy we don't understand.

Frank and Pompidou

I didn't even know he took a picture of Franks hurt dog in the road because you little freaks threw his treat in the street!? This will also tie in to chloes pic but we'll get to that. Frank first, as its pretty simple. Nathan runs some system with frank. And its pretty obvious its the same thing Drew was doing in Before the storm. Nathan clearly doesn't like it as he finds it controling but getting his hands on drugs is a great way to forget his flaws and calm his illness symptoms. Which only created a loop of his symptoms worsening, as talked about before. His illness is very active towards the end of Before the Storm. You can tell by his huge character difference that drugs only made it worse.

Pompidou is a good dog but just remember he's not the one who hurt him. This ties in with what we explained in the dead animal phase. The Imagine is black and white. Its a strange art most people don't understand. Man, I don't even understand it. But these people aren't heartless and they're simply expressing pain. Or..he took it for the same reason he took Chloes pic. To feel that hes in control, thinking this will help his mental reality of thinking everyone can use him, as explained earlier. But i doubt it. One is in color and Pompidou is not. One is misguided and one is "art."

Jefferson, Rachel, Kate, Chloes pic

If i see one more person throw him in the same trash bin as Jefferson im going to puke. Anyway I've twisted my head around this story so many times, begging to see the bigger picture. No pun attended. Jefferson was pulling the strings all along ..you know that right? If Nathan was never there, Jefferson would have still done his disgusting projects. He certainly brought Victoria over without Nathan's usage. He didn't need Nathan, Nathan just made it easier cause he can easily be manipulated. Making Nathan do it all so the consequences will fall on him. Jefferson is smart and knows the right words to say. Nathan is missing the kindness of a father figure, all he has to do is play with his feelings. Nathan falls too easily to kindness. He felt the kindness of Samantha during the good ending and He felt the kindness from Victoria..but Victoria toxic bully nature wasn't helping. Bottom line is Jefferson easily manipulated him and understood his mental reality and used that against him. Adding thoughts into Nathans head. Jefferson learned to use Nathan's illness to his advantage. Nathan trusted Jefferson as did everyone in that school did. Why on earth would Jefferson wrong him? He looked up to him so when Jefferson slowly brought him into his plans of drugging girls, Nathan thought that it was all ..moral. In reality you and I know obviously thats not okay but to Nathan (and his severe illness) he trusted Jefferson was doing no wrong. We don't understand the mental strain he was under, manipulation goes a long way. Heres how he did it. He probaby said things like 'We are the same Nathan, this is art just like yours.' It starts small, Nathan gets him the drugs. Then he pulls him in, Nathan start drugging the girls for me. Start driving them here. Start helping me inside the dark room. Start helping me inject my victims. Jefferson had so much power over him. He was connected with his father. He can threaten his grade, his representation and his future in art. He knew all the right things to say and do. He knew how his head worked. Clog him up with drugs, keep him quiet. Heal his missing father needs and demand him for your needs. Does this not make Nathan a victim too?

Then ...the Rachel incident happened. Nathan was NOT mentally aware of what he's done. The excited "Rachel!" when he saw Max at the diner clearly shows that he truly expected her to pull up. This mixes with the symptoms we've discussed. He only remembers bits and pieces as obviously it was beyond traumatizing. Sending him in an insane spiral and the infamous psychosis drawing. (Don't be afraid, google psychosis drawings. Damn. Just imagine you recovered from psychosis and laying eyes on that and not remembering you drew that..ugh...I'd cry.) Someone with Psychopathy wouldnt feel traumatized from such events, debunking the fact everyone thinks Nathan has Psychopathy. He doesn't have Psychopathy, he has psychosis. Moving on. Jefferson was certainly angry with him and drugged Nathan himself after the incident which really helped Nathan to forget what he's done. But Jefferson's anger and not talking to him tore him apart. His emotional attachment clearly wasn't having it. The note he wrote Jefferson in desperate attempt to bring him back after ruining Jefferson plans goes to show just how much he wants that sense of being cared for. If only it was someone else that wasnt Jefferson ..or his dad can do is fucking job too.

Alcohol was certainly a great method of forgetting what he did. So then comes Chloes interaction with him. We know the story. He did not SA her, I can say that right here and now. Nothing like that was behind this. You can tell by the way Chloe presented the story to Max, there wasn't an uncomfortable tone to her story. She didn't seem traumatized but more shocked and "it was pretty crazy." She also wasn't drugged for that long, she woke up very soon, fully clothed. What obviously happened is that Nathan used this to feel in control like mentioned way above. Drugs and Psychosis is no joke. Who knows what hell is playing in his mind but I unfortunately believe that this was to try to win back Jefferson. He had been angry at him and ignoring him and even tho he hates drugging, his confusion and drunk state led him to this. He's cowardly and his mind is slipping and tries to do what he thinks is right for him. He's misguided and lead down the wrong path.

Nathan did not SA Kate! Kate story breaks my heart into a million pieces but if she was SA-ed, it wasn't Nathan. After everything I said above you can tell that, that isnt in his character. But here I want bring up the voicemail. Nathan claims multiple times that he never wanted to hurt anybody, implying that he felt forced to do harm. Something he DID NOT want to do. Why on earth would anybody have felt forced to SA somebody!? I'm not saying Kate WASN'T SA-ed as I can only assume maybe the boys she was shown with in the video did something or Jefferson. Victoria was Kates bully!!! Nathan wanted to be liked by Victoria and was influenced by her nature. He's desperate for attention and kindness. Victoria did far more to hurt Kate and her reason as to why was shit. You go THAT FAR to one up your photography game. Girl, bye. She spread that video and she still has empathy too? Her regretting everything? Did she reallyy regret? Or she wanted to make herself look good for her representation? She showed regret via text message in Before The Storm too? She doesn't have a mental illness but the game gave her an act of forgiveness and used her as a victim so the audience will sympathize with her. Goes to show you the game controls what they want you to feel. If they were to do that with Nathan..would opinons be different? Taking us into his mind and how he sees the world around him. They could have..but didnt. Well.. We have the voicemail but obviously that didnt stop the haters. It's unfortunate. But the game gave me just enough little clues for me to shine light on in this post. They put so much into his character but never showed the audience the truth.

Conclusion

What we've learned today is that Nathan isn't the villian you think. He's been manipulated, used and needs mental help but im sure my old Nathan-defending friends have said this time and time again. Im here to add something....

Its been PROVEN that he's capable of all human emotions, you just refuse to believe it because you're mistaking his illness and claiming all of this was intentional. Psychosis can be temporary. Its a like a hand that steals your common sense, feelings, empathy, sympathy and you're only left with acting on pure chaos and negative or fearful emotions. After long treatment your sense of reality returns, your feelings, your empathy, your sympathy.. And all you have now is guilt and regret and self blame that you hurt somebody. If you let Nathan kill Chloe, he is arrested. He had doctors aware of his illness and would have been charged with illness in mind. Forcing the treatment he needed ages ago. By the time Lis 2 came out...I wonder how he's taking it all in? What he did to everyone, what he did to Rachel.

He was written off to die, be locked up and blamed. Unfortunately he was caught in the crossfires of the harm of our favorite characters. If he was born in a different family and away from Jeff, he would have never hurt anybody. Matter a fact, he would never have suffered with his listed mental illnesses.

This goes out to all real accidental murder cases. There will always be a great divide in opinions. I hate comparing fictional games with real life but I find it crazy that we call others nonempathtic when they aren't empathic themselves. Its like the word "accidental" is worthless.

Its always a debate..

Do we feel bad for the lives lost and their families

Do we feel bad for the mental crumble of the one who never meant to kill and how their familes have to deal with that.

Are they worthy to walk this earth? Are they worthy to see the daylight again? Are they still human too? Should they die too? Is redemption possible?

Who knows. Peoples opinions wont change unless them, themselves fall onto the opposing team. If they were to suffer the chaos of accidentally murdering someone or the greif of loosing someone from an accidental murder.

#nathanprescott #nathan prescott #life is strange #life is strange before the storm #life is strange nathan #Life is strange nathan prescott #Defending nathan #Defending nathan prescott #Redeeming nathan prescott #grahamscott #Warrenxnathan #Scottfield #mental health #mental illness

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lazaruspiss · 8 months

Note

Ok I’m gonna shoot my question here while you are in a analysis red hood mode (??): what do you think about his mommy issues (and fandom’s making it a trope)?

ooooo oh ok ok. this ones touchy. while i dont think its that present in canon i do think its there and worth the however many fics there are about it. like obvi theres probably a lot of boring and/or bad takes about it but the concept itself isnt running contradictory to canon or anything. i reread aditf a bit for this and had some tangents ill put in another post, but back to mommy issues.

jason had very little parental presence in his life at all. dads in prison, moms sick, he has no one looking out for him. probably why he and bruce seem to have bonded fairly quickly and jason accepted him as a father figure faster than any of the others. jasons bar for what makes a decent parent was nonexistent bc hed never really had someone dedicated to taking care of him. (even damian was hesitant, bc bruce being his dad would create distance between him and dick bc dick would no longer be his mentor, and hed gotten a bit attached)

jason accepted bruce as a father, but still missed his parents. he loved and grieved for both of them and most likely missed the idea of having normal parents in general in addition to missing his parents themselves. his love for his mom is still there when he realizes shes his step-mom instead, but it's accompanied by the hope that he still has living family out there.

the fact that jason went on a mom hunt in the first place is already enough that im like, yeah, i see where the mommy issues talk comes from. but i think you can go a few different directions with it

so theres catherine todd, who we only really know as being sick and a substance user throughout jasons childhood up until her death. iirc she died while willis was either already dead or in prison and so theres a period of time where jason (10-12ish?) would be taking care of his mother alone. being your mother's caretaker when you're still in elementary school does not make for a normal relationship.

and sheila haywood was uh. an illegal surgeon of sorts who fled the country and started a new life. apparently had an existing connection to the joker when she lived in gotham. he knows who she is and he knows how to blackmail her. while sheila describes it to jason as an operation gone wrong, joker calls it an "illegal surgery that killed a teenage girl" and sheila didnt seem to dispute that. probably watered down a lot of details in her explanation to jason. (the combination of 'illegal' and 'teenage girl' feels like it could imply an abortion? but it's left vague) and THEN it turns out she was stealing money meant to be used to save starving refugees before the joker even showed up. she sure is something. she still tries to help jason after he helps her, but don't skip over the part where she helps him after he helps her. she is still a person, but she is a fundamentally selfish person in every way. her final words include her commenting on how jason was a good kid who loved his mother. ive seen people take her final moments as a show that she still loved him, but i don't see it. one of those "a person doing a fraction of a good thing doesnt absolve them of everything else" kind of deals.

in both cases jasons mother(s) were relying on him. he never had an opportunity to be cared for and treated like a child. i don't think jason would have specific "mommy issues" about either of them, i think that he'd have some heavy feelings about the concept of a mother itself. what's it like to have a mom? does he still have a chance to be cared for and nurtured? his childhood was over before he had even met batman. becoming robin and being murdered is just tripling the issues he would've already had about his childhood regardless.

this is starting to veer off topic but

yes im finding a way to make this about Brothers in Blood. bite me. but even the first time i read this something that really stuck out is how jasons imaginary version of dick refers to him as a kid. dick doesnt really... do that. he did back when jason really was a kid, but this page says a lot about jasons self perception. he still wants to be taken care of, even if its not specifically "mommy issues" he definitely yearns for a chance to be treated like a kid again, after having rarely gotten that kind of care when he was a kid. (this page in particular is the first page of nightwing (1996) #121, which is one that i have a physical copy of <3)

#asks #anon #jason todd

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dear-departed · 2 years

Note

hello been reading some of your stuff and will probably continue to read it after i get this out of my mind but i was playing obey me and thinking:

i could not deal with living in the HOL. i have plenty of patience, but the constant fighting of the brothers, lucifers pride stopping him from admitting he is wrong, mammon selling things that dont belong to him for grimm, levi holing himself up and being lowkey manipulative with his self degradation causing you to spend time with him, satans short temper and occasional threats that terrify me, beel constantly eating everything in the house (i have a high metabolism and am very protective of my food for reasons unknown), and belphie sleeping constantly (plus the fact im still kinda salty about being killed in chapter 16 and then him just, acting like it necer happened) and them taking up all my time

basically id go insane, and want to know if you could write a story (long or short) about me sneaking over to purgatory hall, leaving a note saying ill see them at RAD. what id do with the residents (baking with luke, potions and magic with solomon, reading and maybe writing with simeon) and the brothers reactions to me leaving without telling them in advance and being gone so long (a night to a whole weekend)

thank you!!

Hello, Love!

I like this idea, and I totally get what you mean, I don't think I could handle not getting my proper alone time.

I tried my best with this, it got kinda rushed near the end because it was 4 in the morning and I just wanted this baby finished and over with. I loved writing it!

Some of this stuff is very much based off my childhood memories (wet, damp, grass smell is a big thing) and my interests (writing and baking with Simeon and Luke, but MC already knows a little about each) but I hope you enjoy regardless!

MC is gender neutral, and as a prefix, Mx. is used

Warnings: Mild angst, some deep conversations with Solomon, but not much, also Solomon just being a little shit for funsies, mild angst, crying Mammon

Word count: 7k

‘Please, dammit, just let me get through this chapter without another distraction.’

The ruckus downstairs was enough to let you know that this peace and quiet you’ve been enjoying for the past 10 minutes wouldn’t last long.

The noise, that damned noise downstairs. You’d only gotten through a few pages of the book you were reading. Each sentence needed to be read a few times to actually soak into your mind, every grueling detail difficult to take in.

Upon hearing a hasty knock, then the door being burst open, you knew it was over. With a defeated sigh, you slowly shut the book, not bothering to save the page. It’s not like you’d gotten that far anyway, so what was the point?

Mammon and Levi were both quick to storm into the room, Mammon holding up a Ruri-Chan figurine, which was about the size of a beer bottle.

“You greedy ass, give it here!” Levi desperately held out his hand, looking wound up and about ready to headbutt his older brother.

“No way in hell would I give this to you! Do you know how much it’s worth! And besides, I found it, it’s mine! Unless you can cough up 8 thousand grimm, I’m gonna sell it online!” The second born sat himself next to you, far too close than you were comfortable with at the moment.

“I would say until pigs fly, but you’ve got wings, jackass!” Levi directed his eyes toward you, then back to Mammon. “And plus, it’s not fair to barge into MC’s room and push this onto them! I seriously doubt they want to deal with one of my weird hermit problems!”

You let out a deep sigh, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in ever since you heard that knock. “Mammon... just, give him his action figure back.”

“No! Do you get how much this is worth?!”

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed, I command you to give Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, his figurine back!”

It wasn’t worth it to try and reason with him, especially not today, you reasoned. You watched as Mammon’s breath hitched, his mouth falling agape as protest as he groaned, his arms shooting out to hand Levi the action figure back.

Leviathan’s eyes damn near sparkled when you said that. He hands hastily snatching the figurine to his chest, grinning as he blushed, “oh, MC! I really didn’t expect you to actually stick up for me, you’re the best!”

Mammon’s arms dropped back down to his sides, his chest heaving as he sucked in a few quick breaths. “Are you serious, MC?!”

“Don’t look at me like that, you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.” You hummed. After a while at The House of Lamentation, you learned that Mammon being angry wasn’t really anger. You learned that he almost didn’t have the capacity to truly be mad at you, especially when he knew you were in the right.

He stayed seated, trying to formulate his next smart comeback. He ignored the yelling that erupted from the kitchen. You, however, couldn’t seem to get it out of your head. His next words were a blur to you. Between your rare alone time being interrupted, you just being overall tired, and the dull, aching, pain in your head, everything just came back a little fuzzy.

“MC? Hello? Earth to MC?” Leviathan asked as Mammon waved a hand in front of your face. “Ya okay? Ya seem kinda... out of it.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine, just need a second, so just...” You set your book aside, scooting back on the bed, away from Mammon. The muted warmth radiating off the demon was beginning to get rather uncomfortable, on top of everything. “I’m just... I need a second.” You repeated, hoping, praying, to something out there that they would get the memo and just leave.

“Okay, okay!” Mammon stood up, taking a few steps back. But alas, he didn’t make his way toward the door.

“I mean I need a moment alone. And by a moment, I don’t mean just go out of the room and come back in a minute, I mean please leave me alone unless there’s an issue that you can’t just solve yourselves.” You rubbed your temples, your headache increasing until it felt like the veins in your neck would pop.

“I knew they didn’t want us around, who would?” Leviathan grabbed Mammon, dragging him by the back of the shirt out of the room. Thankfully, Levi is an introvert, and knows the importance of completely shutting someone’s door before leaving. At least that’s one thing.

The yelling from the kitchen was obviously Satan, nobody could mistake it. That strained screaming, where his voice cracked and his voice got deeper, less refined than normal. You could almost see him now, threatening Lucifer, who wouldn’t dare take any part in admitting that he did something to piss Satan off.

When this whole shitshow started, you might’ve gone down to check on it, but it always ended up the same. Someone would get to you first, complaining about someone or something. Christ, it was like you were their only relief in this household.

A thought suddenly crossed your mind, one not too unfamiliar to you. What would happen if you just packed up and went to purgatory hall for a day? Or a few nights? Maybe it would give the brothers some time to get themselves in line, and it would give you time to cool down before you snapped, got your neck snapped. Again.

No, no, you couldn’t. Leaving them would be cruel, especially without any warning? What if Lucifer got pissed off and told Lord Diavolo? And what if Lord Diavolo got upset in turn?

Or what if you just asked Lord Diavolo? He always seemed to be decently understanding. After all, he’s been near the demon brothers for hundreds of years now, he knows how tiring they can get.

So without any further considerations, before you decided to chicken out, you pulled out your D.D.D, opening up Diavolo’s contact.

MC: Lord Diavolo? Can I have your opinion, or blessing on something?

Diavolo: Of course, what is it, MC?

You hesitated for a moment, typing and retyping the words you were about to say next. Should you ask to call him instead? No, someone might hear, and lord knows they’d go feral.

MC: How would you feel about me staying at Purgatory Hall for a few days? Just to cool off? All of the brothers are getting to be a bit much. I hope you understand, and it’s alright if you refuse.

Diavolo: Haha! Of course, you may, those brothers are always so rowdy, I understand! I’ll send over someone to escort you tonight.

Diavolo: And don’t worry, I won’t tell Lucifer, it’ll be our little secret for now

MC: Thank you, Lord Diavolo

He sent an emoji, that one of the Red Devil winking, with its hip jutted out to the side. At least he’s understanding.

The title of a ‘Demon Prince’ was always super intimidating, every portrayal of one like Diavolo was always tyrannical, sadistic, and an overall ass, and there was always this part of you that expected him to respond to you like that.

Great. So now all you had to do is pack a bag without any of them knowing. Which is, arguably, the hardest part of this whole thing.

♥

Just as you thought, packing your bag was hell, all puns intended.

You pretended to take a shower, or in other words, you grabbed a bunch of clothes and a duffle bag and shoved everything you’d need for the weekend into it. A few different outfits, a comb, toothpaste, toothbrush, a stick of deodorant, that sort of stuff.

It felt alien to you. You’d only ever packed to leave the house after the exchange program had first ended, or whenever you went on trips with the brothers.

But as you got a text from Barbatos after some of the brothers had gone to bed, the remaining ones too busy to be out of their rooms at this time of the night, you felt kind of bad. Frustrated, yes, but something in your heart tugged you toward this chaotic bunch. It’s not like you were leaving forever, but still.

Alas, you neatly placed your note on your bed, doing a double-take around the room before hauling your bag up onto your shoulder, your shoes hanging by their laces on the strap of the bag, and stepped out of the door, swinging it shut, then carefully turning the knob and shutting it, making as little noise as possible. You were fully aware Lucifer knew you were out of your room, but that didn’t matter.

As you passed the kitchen, the distant noise of soft grumbling radiated from the dim glow that radiated from the fridge. Satan was going to be pissed about that in the morning, you noted.

You crept further down the hall on soft footfalls, the silver moon bouncing off the walls, the pictures on the walls basking in the familiar sunless Devildom sky.

You felt eyes upon you, but something kept you from turning around. If they were going to stop you, or say something, they would have by now. Your hand lurched for the doorknob, slowly starting to turn the cool metal beneath your warm fingertips. It moved no further. Of course, it would be locked.

You carefully set down your bag, holding the handle with one hand and carefully turning the lock with your other. A soft click sounded from the inner mechanisms of the old lock, proving you successful. You pulled the door open, picking up your bag again and shutting it behind you. You locked it, then took a moment to slide on your shoes finally.

The headlights of the chauffer's car shone in the dull, cold, night. All according to plan.

As that thought passed your mind, you felt the stare burning into the back of your skull dissipate, like a shadow sliding back into its corner, as if it’d been washed away by a cool bucket of water. Yet it left no release.

You walked toward the car, watching as the driver got out and walked to the back of the car. They stood strong, with their hands folded neatly in front of themselves. “Mx. (Last name), welcome.” They greeted, their gloved hand delicately opening the back door, nodding their head toward the seat. Lord Diavolo certainly hadn’t left any room for error, had he? Despite Purgatory Hall being a short walk away. To be fair, though, the Devildom isn’t the safest place for a human to roam at night.

You scooted in the seat, setting your bag to the side. “Thank you, really.”

“No worries, Mx. (Last name), it’s nothing short of my duty.” They offered a polite smile as they shut the door, moving back into the driver’s seat. They glanced at you through the mirror, “Purgatory Hall, correct?”

“Yes.” You traced your finger over the perfect stitching on the leather seats of the car, which smelled faintly of Lucifer’s unmistakable cologne.

As the car pulled away from the House of Lamentation, you slumped further into the seat, letting out a quiet sigh as your muscles relaxed, the anxiety that burned deep in your marrow slowly letting itself loose.

The gentle humming of the car was like a lullaby to your racing thoughts, the way it buzzed as it cruised down the road, it brought you back to different memories in your life. Long car rides at night, riding the bus, the way you used to squint when you were at stoplights to see how blurry you could get the lights to seem, the dank and musty smell of freshly mowed grass after a long day.

It didn’t take long before the car eased to a stop outside Purgatory Hall, the chauffer locking eyes with you through the mirror, that same, sterile, smile catching your attention as they looked at you. “We’ve arrived, I will stay here until you get inside.”

“Alright.” You unlocked and opened the door, slithering out of the seat and tugging the bag along with you. “Thank you, again, I know it really can’t be convenient picking random people up, especially at this hour.”

“Again, it’s no worries. And after all, Mx. (last name), you are no stranger. You’re a friend of both Lucifer and Lord Diavolo.” The driver assured.

You shut the door, walking around the back of the car and making your way up the short path to the front door. You knocked four times before stopping and listening closely for anyone inside the house. After a minute or two of crashing, groaning, and somebody from inside very obviously falling straight on their ass, a light turned on.

A tired-looking Simeon opened the door. “I... what are you...” He squinted, then blinked, seeming quite dazed. You could see the gears turning in his head, before his mouth went slightly agape, his crackly voice going “ohh... I remember now! Come in, come in.” He stepped aside, a loving grin tugging at the edge of his lips, which had a little bit of wet drool leaking off one side of his mouth.

You stepped into the house, the scent of vanilla hitting you square in the face.

Luke veered the corner, Solomon sluggishly following behind him, rubbing one side of his butt, a pained look wrinkling his features. Luke looked tired, but undoubtedly gleeful to see you. “You’re actually staying with us for a few days?!” He grabbed at your wrist, grinning a bit.

The small angel quickly caught himself, “it’s not that I’m happy about that or anything, I mean, I see you all the time! But... I’m happy you’re here!” He put a hand on his hip.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Luke.” You gave the top of his head a gentle pat, returning his tired smile. “I’m sorry to wake you all, and to kind of like, invade your home, even if I did let you know beforehand. I’m just...”

“We get it.” Solomon attempted to tame his hair, only paying attention to you half way. “Those brothers can get really tiring. It’s like, I love them, but even things you love can make you upset sometimes. It’s like listening to the same song on repeat for three hours, but it’s a song you love. You need to take a break from that song for a while before you can enjoy listening to it again.”

“That’s a good analogy, Solomon.” Simeon nodded, giving you a comforting smile. “Do you want a hug? I know times like these can be stressful, and sometimes it can feel like everything around you is just all happening at once, and you want some space from them, I suppose?”

“Yes, please.” You shuffled closer to Simeon, Luke’s soft hand falling from your wrist as you wrapped your arms around the older angel, burying your head into his chest. Jasmin, chamomile, flowers... ugh. You allowed yourself to slip further into his embrace, noting the sudden warmth now connected to your side, Luke. They were warmer than the demon brothers, who were slightly cool to the touch.

Solomon watched from a couple feet away, his eyes filled with want as he stared into the empty spot at your other side. Eventually, he gave in, sinking into your familiar warmth.

Despite not spending nearly as much time here as you did the House of Lamentation, this place felt just as much like home as the other.

After a moment of comfortable, admittedly warm silence, Simeon pulled away, his delicate hands resting upon your shoulders, a smile gracing his angelic features. “I have no doubts you’re exhausted. We already have a place for you to sleep, how about we get you set up so you can get some good, undisturbed, rest?”

“That sounds heavenly.” You sighed, finally realizing how heavy your eyelids were.

He let out a soft laugh, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Well, we try. Solomon, if you don’t mind, can you take them over to their bed area? Luke and I will get them a cup of tea ready.” He and Luke pulled away from you, as did Solomon, who slowly nodded. “Sorry, almost fell asleep on you there.” he giggled, squinting at you. “I can’t stay up as late as I did before, being immortal takes its toll. Come on.” He nodded toward down the hall, making his way through the house with you hot on his tail.

“Luke and Simeon were overjoyed when they heard you were coming.” He said, his slippers making soft patting noises on the hard flooring. “So am I. I feel like we never hang out outside of studying. Maybe I can steal you away for a while, who knows?” He trailed his index finger along the wall, eventually stopping at a series of doors. “They decided to set up your sleeping arrangement in my room. Feel free to freshen up in the bathroom, you can sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, unless you’re open to the idea of sharing a bed.” He paused, appraising your reaction.

You felt your face heat up, the tips of your ears becoming hot as you laughed, shaking your head as you stared at the floor. “You’ve been spending too much time with Asmo, I swear.” You set your bag by the sofa.

“Well, I’ve only known him for a few centuries, I wouldn’t say too long. So... was that a yes?”

“Solomon, I’m not taking your bed, I’m the guest, I’m sleeping on the sofa.” You shook your head, sitting down on the sofa, taking one of the throw pillows and placing it beneath your head.

“Well then, I guess we’re sharing the couch. I’m not sleeping on the bed either. As you said, you’re the guest, and you came here to feel comfortable.” He clambered onto the couch as well, humming triumphantly at you as Luke and Simeon both entered the room, a few cups of warm “sleepy time” tea in hand.

“This should get you nice and sleepy if you weren’t already, or at least calm you down.” Simeon placed two of the steaming cups onto the coffee table, placing coasters beneath them. “Be careful, it’s really hot.”

You made a mental note of now Luke’s cup wasn’t steaming, and he in fact had his other hand wrapped around the cup. Simeon definitely cooled it down for him, how sweet.

“Thank you, again. I know it’s a pain, but like you said, they get overwhelming sometimes.” You stared into your cup, the honey-colored liquid reflecting back yourself, someone who had gone through many big events and changes since you arrived in the Devildom. Someone who had died, come back to life, went through many death threats from various demons, including those closest to you.

And yet, a lot of the time, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Despite how unforgiving it is for humans, it’s oddly comforting.

“Really, MC, it’s no problem. Even in the celestial realm they were a bit much at times.” Simeon leaned down, planting a goodnight kiss on your forehead. “Now, you should get some rest. Don’t let Solomon be too mean to you.” he teased, giving your cheek a gentle pat before both he and Luke left the room, shutting the door behind them.

Solomon dipped his finger into his tea, muttering a quiet spell into the liquid, in a tongue you didn’t recognize. It must have been a spell he hadn’t taught you yet. “What’d you do to it?” You quirked a brow, watching as he chugged the cup down.

“I turned it into gin.” He smirked, looking up at you through his frosted lashes.

“Solomon!”

“Just kidding, I cooled it down. Want me to do the same for you.?” he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, clearing his throat a little.

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” You scooted your cup of tea out to him. He dipped the very tip of his finger into the piping hot contents of the cup, muttering the same, soft, incantation before pulling his hand away. “Alright, should be fine, test it.”

You carefully picked up the cup, tipping it up just enough to touch the liquid to your lips. “It’s perfect.” Somehow, he’d gotten it to the perfect temperature. You took a long sip, savoring the lightly sweet, floral, drink. It slid down your throat smoothly, warming your body just enough to be oh so satisfying.

“I’m glad.” He idly watched you drink your tea, playing with a piece of loose thread in one of the cushions of the sofa, thinking of his next words. “I’m not supposed to say this, but Simeon’s making pancakes tomorrow morning because you decided to stay over. Don’t say anything to like, though. He’ll go feral; you know how much he loves Simeon’s pancakes.” He let his eyes stray, slowly beginning to stare straight through you.

He was knocked out from his daze when you set your cup down. He shook it off, grabbing both of the cups. “I’ll take these to the kitchen; you get comfy on the bed.” He smiled, the little dark circles underneath his blueish brown eyes, which showed up very prominently on his pale skin.

‘nice try, old man.’

He made a graceful exit from the room, but you couldn’t help but notice how he hobbled slightly. Damn, how had had he fallen on his ass?

You pulled your D.D.D from your pocket, half-expecting a flurry of texts and calls from the brothers. All you were met with, however, was a few stray texts from Diavolo and Barbatos, briefly letting you know that the driver was there, or asking if you’d gotten there safely. You assured them you had, setting your phone in your bag.

Solomon returned a minute later, quirking an icy brow.

“...Damn you, Solomon.” You feigned annoyance as you climbed onto the bed, slipping beneath the covers. “I’m not having you sleeping on the couch, either. Come here.”

“Roger.”

♥

You awoke to the sweet scent of pancakes wafting through the air, and the weight of Solomon sliding off the bed. You let out a soft groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. It was so relaxing to not be woken up by Mammon bursting through your door, so nice to not hear someone screaming downstairs.

“Good morning, sleepy head. You slept like a rock last night.” The sorcerer chuckled, turning his back to you as he took off his shirt, swapping it out for a fresh one. Right, today was a weekend, nobody had school.

“H... wha?...” You moaned, the feeling of sleep slipping through your fingers as you slowly sat up, still not entirely able to tell if this was a dream or not.

“I got up a few times, and let me tell you, you didn’t move at all. You must’ve been really tired.” He grabbed a pair of pants and some boxers and whisked himself off to the bathroom, leaving you in a blurry daze.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fog clouding your mind. Oh right, you snuck out without telling the brothers anything.

You groggily got out of bed, feeling both the most well-rested yet the most tired you’d ever been in your life. You quickly changed, trying to finish up before Solomon came out of the bathroom.

Hesitantly, you picked up your phone. Surprisingly, though, you only had 13 texts. Which may seem like a lot, but... all of the brothers texted once or twice, Lucifer told them to give you some space in the group chat, messaged you that he was sorry for any discomfort they may have caused, and that seemed to be that. Sure, they moped, but you didn’t get any calls, no texts, after that.

With that off your chest there wasn’t a lot to worry about anymore. No upset brothers, just mildly tickled demon men, which you could live with.

“I’m back, let’s get to the dining room.” Solomon stood by the doorway, bowing his head lightly, motioning you into the hallway. You followed along, with all the lights on, you were fully able to take in the vivid and rich paintings lining the walls.

Upon entering the dining room, you see Simeon being the perfect malewife, I mean being very helpful.

He’s setting the table, a large plate of pancakes in the center, with plates for everyone in their respective places, your plate was placed between him and Luke.

Luke was also being helpful, bringing out a carton of milk and juice, setting cups and silverware next to everyone’s plates. It was obvious he was trying to contain his excitement, his lips were pursed, barely suppressing the grin that lay beneath his attempt at a calm façade.

“Breakfast is served!” Simeon said in his melodic voice, his tone wafting through the air the same as the smell of the pancakes. A gentle smile graced his features as he eyed you up and down, tilting his head. “I heard you slept well?”

“I slept great, I hope you did, too... even though I did wake you up to stay over.” You smiled in return, earning a blush from the angel.

“MC! You have to come over more often! I mean, please come over more often!” Luke took his place at the table, looking absolutely thrilled.

His favorite people all in the same room, with his favorite food, all in a good mood. Nothing could beat this moment, right here.

You, Solomon, and Simeon all sat in your respective places, chatting while peacefully chowing down on the awesome breakfast that Simeon had made. You let them all know about the texts you’d seen, and they were happy to hear that the brothers at least agreed to give you some space for the time being.

“It’s really peaceful here” you remarked, shoveling a forkful of pancake into your mouth.

“Yes, I do think it’s peaceful here, for the most part. After all, including you, the house does have eight people. That’s a lot of people all at once, and including you, we only have four, so really, we’re just less crowded. And I do admit, some of the brothers are crazy in the mornings.” Simeon laughed, covering his mouth.

“This is really good, Simeon.” Solomon leaned an elbow on the table, sending you all a little grin. “I think I should make breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s only fair, you and Luke already cooked, so I think I should take over tomorrow. After all, I’ve been looking at this new recipe for w-”

“NO! NO CHANCE IN... I mean...” Simeon cleared his throat, nearly choking on his bite of pancake. “Luke and I are more than happy to cook, it's our hobby, after all” He smiled. “There’s really no need to overwork yourself, Solomon.”

“Oh no, I insist. You really should look at this recipe, Simeon. I think adding my own twist would make it taste better, though.” Solomon took a swig of juice.

“Your food is really, really... special. I just don’t think our stomachs are used to how good it is, so-” Simeon started, only to be cut off by Luke.

“You suck at cooking-”

“Luke!-”

“Sorry! It just slipped out! Not even Beel can eat It, though!”

You couldn’t help but put your head in your hands and laugh, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. And the worst part? You knew Solomon was aware how awful his cooking was. He just didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, Solomon, but he’s right. I think there’s a 50/50 chance that you either die or become immortal when someone eats your cooking” You gave the sorcerer a playful glance, who winked in return.

♥

Apparently Simeon gets the most motivation in the mornings.

He invited you to shoot some ideas back and forth for one of his up-and-coming books. This mostly consisted of you attempting to teach him how the hell to run the “word” program on his computer, which he so kindly got from one of Leviathan’s suggestions.

He’s still amazed that it turns on.

But imagine his fucking shock when you boot up Microsoft word. His eyes go wide and he started exploring all of the options.

Every single one of them.

He knew what a lot of them were, the font options, alignment, things like that, but what the hell are ‘wingdings?

“Simeon, those are pretty much colorless emojis but for a Microsoft word document, you don’t need those to write. Those are for like, flyers, and pamphlets, y’know?” You pointed back to the ‘home’ tab, but he stayed on the ‘insert’ tab.

“How do I get these on my D.D.D? I haven’t seen these emojis on my phone.” He began to browse through them, littering his document with hearts, cartoon spider webs, smiley faces, everything under the sun.

“You can’t, Simeon, I’ll show you those later, let’s just start with the ideas.” You put your hand over his, directing him back to the ‘home’ tab. His shoulders slumped a little, yet he nodded. “You’re right, I need to actually start.”

For a while, the two of you just snacked and had drinks while he bounced different novel ideas off you, listening to your opinions on different plot ideas.

Eventually, he pulled out a notebook and laid his head in your lap, tapping a pen against his lips. “Now, what are some good side character names? I’m running low on names I haven’t used before.” He clicked the pen against his temple, scribbling on the corner of the page to make sure it worked.

“How about... Elyssa?”

“Oh, that’s a good one! Like... a high elven princess, I can see her being this regal figure, morally grey.” He kicked one leg onto the other, humming softly as he jotted the name down.

“Harris.”

“I’ve used that one before.”

“Uh... Astrophel!”

“That one, too.”

“Vivian”

“Okay, okay, that’s good, I don’t have any ideas for her, but I’m sure some will come eventually.”

“Ezra.”

“I like that!”

This went on for who knows how long. Sometimes he would just set his notebook down while you idly raked your hands through his hair, trying to think of more names after you ran out.

♥

Next was baking with Luke, apparently, Barbatos had “assigned” him lemon meringue cookies, and Luke would be damned if he failed an assignment from one of his mentors.

He pulled out four eggs, turning to glance at you. “Do you know how to separate the whites from the yolks?”

“yeah-”

“Do NOT separate them with your fingers! Because if you do, the oils from your fingers-” he wiggled his fingers in the air “-will keep the proteins from whipping up in the egg whites! Because fat keeps things from whipping up unless it is fat based. That’s why we wiped the mixing bowl with lemon, because it’s acidic, and cuts away any remaining fat in the bowl!”

You were vaguely aware of this, but hey, why not let the kid have his fun being smarter than you?

“Yes, Sir Luke!” You saluted, taking the eggs delicately in your hands. “And I’ll make sure to crack them in a separate bowl so I don’t get any shells in them, either.” You assured, pulling out another, smaller, bowl. You cracked them over the sink, saving the yolk for later and putting the egg white into the other bowl.

“I’ll get started on the syrup.” You heard Luke working on the stove behind you, humming a soft little tune to himself as he focused. You appraised the egg whites, carefully placing them into the mixing bowl after you picked out any shells remaining. “What now?”

“Start the mixer on medium, and add in this when it gets foamy, catch!” he tossed you a small plastic container of a white, powdery, substance. ‘Cream of tartar’, the label read.

“How much do I put in?”

“Only a teeny tiny bit, ¼th of a teaspoon, there should be a spoon for it inside the 1/2th.”

“Roger that.” You did as told, deciding to muse the kid “so, what’s this for?”

“Oh, cream of tartar is to stabilize the egg whites! After a certain point, egg whites can get too whipped and deflate! So, when you add...” you tuned him out as you eyed the egg whites, watching them get foamy, then as they grew in volume.

“It’s awesome you know all of this, Luke, it’s really impressive.” You turned back to glance at him, to see his face bright red.

“You think so, MC?... I don’t know what to say...” He stared at his shows. “Thank you, it means a lot that you think I’m smart, and not just some dumb little kid.”

“Of course, I don’t think you’re just some dumb kid, Luke. You’re in direct contact with Michael, after all. I know he’d only ever choose the best angels to help him.” You ruffled his hair. “I like how you appreciate the little things, like how you really like Simeon’s pancakes, and how you won’t say it, but you actually don’t mind demons. They’re nicer than you thought, huh?”

“...Yeah. They are. I like Beel. He's scary sometimes, but I know he cares about his family, kind of like how I care about you and Simeon. I think of you all as family.” He sniveled, looking up at you and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, quivering smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the best family I could ask for.”

Who knew an angel with such a sweet tooth could be sweeter than what he bakes?

After calming Luke back down, which apparently, he’s a happy crier sometimes, the two of you got back to work.

He picked up the boiling pot of sugar syrup and you helped slowly pour it in while the egg whites were still mixing. “It won’t scramble, don’t worry!” he stated proudly as he drizzled in more of the syrup.

Slowly, the egg whites in the bowl became stiffer and glossier until the entirety of the syrup was in the mixer. Then, you both added yellow food coloring and lemon extract.

The oven, preheated to 225 degrees Fahrenheit, or 80 degrees Celsius, was then ready for the freshly piped meringue, in perfect, crimped peaks.

They turned out amazing after a few hours, the lemon flavor bursting through the foamy sugar like a delightfully sour surprise.

♥

Lastly, you decided to join Solomon in his room to study, which was fun, to say the least.

He knows how to have fun while also keeping you engaged, playfully casting harmless spells on you, having you taste-test potions with short-term effects.

“Now, add the chopped bits of the poison fire coral to the cauldron. That’s right, good.” He guided your hand with the scoop toward the cauldron, directing you carefully.

“Is it supposed to do that?” The liquid inside the pot began to spurt and sparkle, sending little bits of flame flying toward you both. He didn’t flinch as they landed on his bare skin, dissipating instantly.

“Perfectly normal, just stay calm.” he checked his watch, seemingly counting the seconds.

“and... twelve! See, it stopped!” He gestured to the cauldron, which did indeed, cease with the whole ‘spewing fire’ thing.

“Now, try it.” He dipped a glass spoon into the shiny, bright red, liquid, holding it close to your lips. It burned your nose lightly when you sniffed it, not really having a smell, just kind of burning.

“Isn’t poison fire coral deadly?”

“Oh, very, but this potion neutralizes it. Trust me, I use it all the time.”

Hesitantly, you sipped the smooth, slightly thick, potion from the spoon. It sent shooting pain down your throat, as if a million fire and were crawling up and down your innards. “Oh, my gods, that hurts!”

“Just wait a second.”

Sure enough, the pain went away as soon as it came. “What did that even do besides hurt me?”

“Blow me.”

“WHAT? SOLOMON!”

“No, I mean like, blow air at me!”

You let out a puff of air through your lips. A bright reddish orange flame spewed from your delicate lips, reaching out to lick his cheek, like the hand of a deadly yet seductive mistress. The fire caressed his skin lightly, not daring to light his hair aflame. In fact, he seemed unphased by it, as if it wasn’t warm whatsoever.

“I can breathe fire?!”

“Kind of. Try to blow on your hand.” He instructed.

You did as he said, noticing that the flame felt slightly cool, an exact parallel of what you’d felt in your throat moments earlier.

“It only lasts for a little bit, only about 30 minutes. I have an antidote, if you’d like one.”

“As long as it can’t catch anything on fire, I’m fine with having this for 30 minutes, count me in!” As you excitedly talk, little bursts of flame expelled from your lips, wisping past your hair.

He chuckled, leaning on his arm. “You know...” he shook his head “I quit befriending mortals because so many of them die whenever you’re super close to them. Yet oddly enough, I can’t stop myself from being close to you. You’re like trying to resist... gee, I’ll say, you’re like trying to resist sin itself. But I’d say you’re the best sin out there.” He stared into your eyes. “Damn you for being a human. I might just have to turn you immortal with me.”

♥

Back at the house, before you’d woken up, Mammon ran to Lucifer, freaking the hell out, waving your note in his hand like a madman. “MC!... Lucifer, bro, it’s MC, th-they ran away, a-and... they said they ran away but I don’t believe it because why the hell do they need to run away they just said that needed to go to Purgatory Hall for a break but why wouldn’t they just tell us?! And Lucifer we’ve gotta go lookin’ for them becasue only dad knows where the hell they are now! What if someone just wrote like them? There are a lotta people in the Devildom who would kill to hurt or take them and I’m worried and...” He sucked in a breath of air, choking on his sobs.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, snatching the note from Mammon, going over the note a few times. “I’m calling a family meeting to see if anybody knows about this. We will contact Lord Diavolo if there is reason, but we don’t have suspicion to believe that they were captured. Here, seem like you need it.” Lucifer offered Mammon a sip of his water, who just shook his head.

Dammit, why was he so bothered by this? Why did it rub him the wrong way? Was he sick in the head or something for assuming that was where you’d gone? Or was it a normal reaction? Either way, he just... he had to know you were safe. Regardless of if you probably were, as your first man, it’s his duty to know you’re safe.

Everyone gathered in the living room, half worried sick, the other half of the brothers not really surprised at all.

“First order of business.” Lucifer folded his hands neatly on his lap. “I did hear MC awake last night, they walked out of their room, I know that. I heard them. But I need to know if any of you saw them leave, and if they were alone.”

All of the brothers stayed silent and still, all but Belphie, who quietly raised his hand. “I saw them leave.”

“And you didn’t stop them?! What if they get hurt?!” Mammon exclaimed, “are ya crazy?!”

Belphie shook his head “no, I didn’t stop them. They were checking their phone when I saw them. I was trying to get Beel back to our room. I saw one of Lord Diavolo’s cars out the window. I think they’re fine. They had a bag and everything. I really do think they just got overwhelmed.” He curled up on the sofa like a cat, laying his head on his arms.

“Oh.” Mammon stopped having what appeared to be a heart attack, shiveling as he wiped up his tears. “Well... so... they’re fine? I was worryin’ over nothin’?”

Nobody responded to him as Lucifer drew his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Lord Diavolo just to double check, but thank you, Belphie.”

“yeah.”

Lucifer dialed up Diavolo, who answered right away. “Hello, Lord Diavolo? You’re on speaker. My brothers and I would like to know if you had a car pick up MC last night.”

The demon prince’s giggle came clear through the phone, a failed attempt at stifling his glee “I won’t tell, Lucifer. I’ve been sworn to secrecy~”

“So, I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Lucifer rubbed his temples with a quiet yet exasperated sigh.

“...You see right through me, Lucifer! Yes, you’ve caught me.” He pouted.

“Understood, I will inform my brothers to not contact MC until further notice, thank you for the explanation, have a nice day. Goodbye.”

“...So, they’re fine.” Mammon put a hand on his chest, taking a deep breath. “Okay then. I don’t, how will I keep myself entertained?”

“Figure it out yourself, I’m taking a nice long nap with a body pillow.”

“I think I’m gonna go to Hell’s kitchen.

“I’m taking a self care day!”

“I’ll update MC on the book I’m reading when they return.”

“I’ll get some good manga for MC to read when they get back!”

“...I might go to the casino.”

“Mammon, I will string you up if you dare go within 500 feet of a facility that inhibits gambling.”

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