#i still have misgivings though

[shopcat]

to be honest i know we've all been making jokes about how easily ed quote unquote folded after taking about like six hours total to actually "forgive" stede but i stare at that scene where stede is telling him he loves everything about him he loves just being Near him and ed's expression is SO INSANE like the second after he stops stede from actually saying "i love you" and stede immediately just starts doing it anyway he's like DON'T -_- but he's turning to face him like a flower in the sun bc he absolutely wants to hear it and is prompting him to continue it's making me sick. and then his little 3 step smile... augh... he literally did fold wet napkin style but it's so sweet :(

#🐾 #TO ME... ! i know people who are being critical and perhaps loserish even say this is a reason why they're doomed bc he gave in so quickly #and forgave him. but i don't think that's actually true and i think this conversation and the one in the woods healed way more than people #give them credit for or even maybe think about. like i do think blackbeard as a physical manifestation of ed's heartbreak is still ofc #due to that but i also think it's a disservice to ed himself to accredit everything JUST to stede and is why people might think it's sloppy #or something. i think ed was well on his way to healing and dealing with the breakup just fine until he was forced into having to suppress #everything about his emotions (the emotions that make him who he IS...) and it became the catalyst to him needing to confront his own like #inner misgivings about what he thinks of himself. i think it could technically be fair if people were going Look they just showed that #stede appeared and solved all his problems and he jumped back into his arms then it blew up and then he did it again!!! #and it's like okay. well i don't think that's what happened LOL #and that is WHYYYY stede saying i love everything about you and just being near you As you is so sweet and what he wanted to hear and why #he turned in the first place. he absolutely had already made peace with everything to do with stede IN the gravy basket #and everything else was just the inevitable leftover feelings and why they melted away so easily. though tbf he did express his feelings #VERY CLEARLY and efficiently if i do say so myself like he was communicating. it wasn't unhealthy LOL 😭 #and i think him finally letting himself want these things (stede's affection / love) and turning actively towards them IS the indication #that he was already ready to move on and feeling more stable emotionally and mentally. and all the conflict after was understandable #and also well come on this is a romcom they need conflict it doesn't mean they're doomed 😭 anyway #i also think stede appearing in ed's dream and saving him the way he did was on purpose and reflects all of this really well and people #attributing it to ''see he just came and fixed everything and made him not depressed anymore'' are STUPID #like the entire point is stede appears and reminds ed of what he can have and work towards and also in the literal sense that damn mermaid #did NOTHING. they just floated there together. he didn't pull him up to the surface ed did that himself. ITS ALL HIM. UGH. anyway #anyway that's just what i am turning over in my mind about it i'm sure others think different probably #ofmd #gentlebeard

[unladielike]

That feeling when Vivian is so demiromantic, she has only ever fallen in love with three muses on this blog...

*coughs*

Alex, Sylvain, and Hayate...

*coughs*

Of course, she would still agree to be someone’s girlfriend/date someone if they asked and she likes them on at least a platonic level, but it’s rare for her to feel anything romantic towards someone. Sexual attraction, on the other hand, is something she feels very strongly... and she’s the type who would almost never act on her lust (unless you’re as unpredictable as Hayate), but people might mistake any sexual attraction she feels towards them to be a crush, when really, she just wants to [redact] or be [redacted] by them.

#║▌ ⧼ ⸢ ʚɞ ⸣︳h̲e̲a̲d̲c̲a̲n̲o̲n̲s̲. ⧽ ― LET’S PRETEND I AM A FICTIONAL CHARACTER. #⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( QUEUED ) ⤹ •• 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪. #⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( ABOUT ) ⤹ •• 𝕧𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕤. #[ THOUGH VIVIAN MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO RETURN A MUSE'S ROMANTIC FEELINGS... i feel like she would still be happy ] #[ someone actually managed to fall in love with her because when it comes down to it she thought of herself as unlovable ] #[ her whole entire life ] #[ so while she might have misgivings about being in a committed relationship with a female presenting muse ] #[ due to the fact she KNOWS she won't stop being sexually attracted to male presenting muses ] #[ she would at least TRY to make things work and live the life of a normie for once ]

[moved-to-void-kissed]

🌙 and maybe alectra and la signora's first interactions?

Hehe, I can absolutely talk about this for you! Thank you very kindly for sending this in, there's a lot for me to talk about here and I am more than happy to do so!!

(source: this post by nougatships)

Give me a 🌙 in my inbox and I'll give you a random headcanon about my selfship, F/O, or self-insert. - So! The first time the two of us directly interacted was before the events of the game began, some time after Alectra had joined the Fatui as a young adult after parting ways with the couple that raised her when they reached Snezhnaya. She had spent much of her adolescence travelling across Teyvat (since the couple that raised her were both adventurers), so over time she had gained a great deal of self-taught skill with sword wielding. Her combat prowess caught the attention of her superiors, and so she was selected to receive a Delusion and become promoted to a Harbinger's subordinate rather than a mere new recruit or a skirmisher limited to an elemental weapon.

At the ceremony, where Alectra and the other few selected agents were presented with their Delusions that would allow them to wield the elements without needing celestial favour, La Signora was the one out of the Harbingers present who chose her to be another one of her subordinates. The other agents who already reported to Signora quickly took note of how quickly Alectra flew up through the ranks to an ever-higher position under her instruction, eventually becoming the Eighth Harbinger's second-in-command and partner. Our connection came very mutually and quickly.

However.. that's not actually the first time the two of us met; our first meeting happened many years prior, when both of us were known by different names and held different forms.

You see, to call us soulmates is accurate in more ways than one.

Content warning under the readmore for many mentions of fire and burning, as well as the death of a bird (though, as you'll realise, this isn't permanent). Regardless of whether or not you want to keep reading, thank you very much once again for sending this ask in; I really enjoyed writing all this out.

Five hundred years ago, a woman known only as the Crimson Witch of Flames walked the land. She had used a now-lost art to transform her body into liquid fire as a result of her anguish at losing the one she had been closest to up until that point, and wielded these flames to burn away the monsters and the evil of the world. Despite this noble goal, she was feared and hated by other humans, and the fearsome might of her fire meant the only animals who could get close to her were the birds, chirping by her side and giving her all the understanding she needed.

Once, there was also a little female nightingale, who did not sing but whose feathers were tipped with white patches. This made her stand out amongst the other birds who pitied and cared about the lonely lady branded a witch, and so the little nightingale felt special. But she also felt sad, because she could not help the lady who had been so abandoned by the world.

The anger of humans against what they called the Crimson Witch caused them to lash out against her at one point, fighting fire with fire to chase away her and the birds. As a result of this, the little nightingale was struck by the humans' flames, charring her white feathers black - and as the lonely lady once known as Rosalyne reached out to catch one of her only and most familiar companions, a little bird small enough to cradle in the palms of her hands, the nightingale's feathers became ever-burning plumes.

The anguish that Rosalyne felt at being unable to protect something she had cared about so much caused the fires that fuelled her to erupt, and they threatened to consume her entirely because of this - but the first of the Fatui Harbingers found her and offered her salvation in the form of a glacial seal that would quell her endlessly blazing flames. She accepted to save her life, leaving her past behind and taking on a new identity as the Eighth Fatui Harbinger, Signora - but even the Cryo Delusion she was gifted was not enough to contain all of her emotions or her power. These remnants escaped, and were absorbed by the dying spirit of the nightingale, who herself was sustained by this energy as well as her own will to live on; as a result of this combination, her spirit coalesced and was reborn into a human form, back in Rosalyne's homeland.

And, although it took a long time, the once-nightingale now using a name like that of a Fury eventually found her way back to her lady.

Thank you very much once more for sending this ask in, and additionally for taking the time to read all of this if you did so.

#a call from the void #selfship #selfshipping #heart of the void #love: my fair lady (signora) #selfship: a moth to the fire (signora/alectra) #self‑insert: ashen nightingale (alectra) #this is the first post using alectra's new self-insert tag! though I have retroactively changed her tag on all previous posts that had it #out of the inbox #selfship asks #máirtín tag! #this post is okay to reblog! #I wrote more under the readmore than above it. oops. #you would think that being partially made up of negative emotions and anguish would make alectra a lot more antagonistic #and she definitely can be that way #but she is not *only* the witch's anguish made manifest; she is still at heart a fully-fledged entity in her own right besides that #and yes she is perfectly capable of existing on her own without signora's presence #but there's a reason she felt that joining the fatui was the right thing for her to do given her misgivings about the archons' governance #and that reason was the latent connection she felt to signora because of being the last vestige of her previous identity #so us being around each other kind of reawakens the same care we held for each other (though in a different form now) all that time ago #even from the start since part of us could sense the connection to each other internally #anyway I should try and sleep now - I will get to the other ask in my inbox tomorrow hopefully #please read the post carefully before opening the readmore

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

#vidyo games #fallout #fallout: new vegas

[dancingbirdie]

Continuation of my series "The Planets Bend Between Us" where I imagine how Astarion's aversion to intimacy and physical touch lessens as his relationship with Tav progresses.

Read Part 1 here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here!

Also find the series on Ao3 here.

Comments, reactions, and feedback always appreciated!

The Light In Us Both

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, vampire bites, blood drinking, non-sexual intimacy, no smut

Astarion was nearly convinced that bindings would be necessary to keep Tav still this evening. His lovely little wildling continued to fidget beneath him, giggling under her breath and squirming each time he drew close to her neck in an attempt to feed. 

They had been in the Underdark for over a week now. Viable options for “food” were scarce for him, and so Tav had graciously allowed him to drink from her each night in order to maintain his vigor. 

While she insisted she didn’t mind, that it wasn’t an encumbrance, he couldn’t help but notice the looks of disapproval and worry from other members of their party. It was difficult to ignore. They didn’t dare speak their misgivings aloud, though, for fear of Tav’s fierce rebuke that would inevitably follow. 

Astarion loved the duality of his ferocious little darling. She was hot-tempered, demanding and fiery with nearly everyone and everything she came across. Everyone else in the party treated her as the de facto leader. She had even managed to earn the respect of Lae’zel. 

But with Astarion, she was as harmless as a newborn kitten. She joked with him. Teased. Flirted. She was pliant, like clay in his hands. One knowing look from him, and he could watch as she instantly calmed. He wasn’t sure how he’d come to tame such a hellcat, but it gave him immense pleasure, and pride, to be the only person who could call forth that side of her. Him. Astarion.

But tonight, however, he was just about at his wit’s end with her. Tav could not remain still despite his insistences. He even went so far as to describe the embarrassment they’d both share if they had to wake Shadowheart up at this time of night to repair Tav’s lacerated throat because she couldn’t stop squirming. 

Nothing seemed to work. 

“You know, darling, this little exercise of ours is made much more easy when you hold still,” Astarion whispered, a little exasperated, in her ear. 

Tav giggled. His breath against the shell of her ear tickled. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to behave.”

“Mm, see that you do.” 

He nuzzled at her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, prolonging the temptation of her blood just a moment longer. His hand ghosted up her waist to rest against her lower ribs. He opened his mouth, lips lightly brushing her skin. His fangs were a hair’s breadth away from sinking into her when, suddenly, a fit of laughter bubbled from her between her lips. 

He pulled back to glare at her, squeezing her waist in reproach. At his expression, she broke out in peals of laughter. He made to sit up, obviously affronted, but her hand clutched his nightshirt tighter, preventing him. 

“Tsk. You daft thing,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Honestly, have the Myconid spores gone to your head?” 

She continued to chuckle. “Astarion, I’m sorry, but I’m ticklish.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your hand. On my ribs. It tickled,” she explained. “I couldn’t help it.” 

“You’ve never had this issue before,” he replied, dubious.

“Because normally you’re holding onto my arm. Or my shoulder,” she quipped, her laughter finally quieting. 

“I see,” he murmured, mulling over her words, his expression thoughtful. 

“I’ve upset you,” Tav responded soberly, finally taking stock of the fact that Astarion hadn’t found the situation nearly as humorous as she had. “I really am sorry. I’ll keep still this time. Promise. Just maybe don’t touch me around the ribs.”

He observed her quietly a moment more. Tav couldn’t decipher what thoughts were percolating behind his expression. But then his lips curved into a sly smile. 

“So, to be clear, what you’re saying is, that if I touch you here,” he began casually, his hand tracing light swirls across her ribs. The skin of her arms and neck immediately broke out into gooseflesh. She mashed her lips together to keep from giggling once more, squirming slightly under Astarion’s touch.

“...it’s especially ticklish for you?” he finished, looking up at her in mock innocence. 

Tav could sense a game was afoot. And she hated losing. Clenching her teeth together, willing herself to keep still, she managed a slight nod. 

“I see,” Astarion said seriously. “And what about if I do this?” he asked before leaning down to blow lightly against the shell of her delicately pointed ear. 

Tav squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything else besides the urge to laugh and sidle away from him. 

“Oh my,” he intoned. “Seems like that’s dangerous territory as well.”

Tav opened her eyes, taking in the full devilish grin that graced Astarion’s mouth. He was enjoying this. She glared at him.

“All right, all right,” he placated. “But purely for my own edification,” he continued. “Is this off limits as well?” 

And before she could jerk away, he began tickling her outright. Swinging a leg over her hips to pin her down, his hands were everywhere across her ribs, her soft stomach, and under her arms. 

Tav shrieked with laughter, too distracted by Astarion’s onslaught to keep her voice down. Her hands chased his, attempting to grab them, but he was far too quick. She switched tactics then, bucking her hips in an effort to knock him off of her. But, try as she might, he stayed firmly situated atop her. Above the din of her own noise, she made out his own peals of laughter. 

He sounded utterly carefree. Playful. Filled with joy. 

“I give! I give!” she squealed finally. 

“COULD YOU TWO PLEASE KEEP IT DOWN?!” they heard Shadowheart suddenly shout from across the camp. “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO REST.”

Grumbles of assent from around the camp floated up after her. 

“SORRY,” Tav shouted with equal fervor, grinning like mad at Astarion. “I’LL TRY SUFFERING IN SILENCE IN THE FUTURE.”

“MUCH APPRECIATED,” Shadowheart returned. 

Astarion rolled his eyes and sighed. “Killjoys, all of them.”

Tav chuckled. Still smiling up at him, she raised her hands in mock surrender. 

“You win, Astarion,” she whispered.

He huffed a laugh as he clasped her hands between his. He bent over to kiss the tops of her fingers lovingly before lifting off of her and lying back down at her side. 

“And what should be my reward, for winning so spectacularly?” he returned quietly, resting a palm against her cheek.

Tav turned her face to kiss his palm before arching her neck, giving him a meaningful smile. 

“I promise to hold still this time,” she teased. 

Astarion chuckled, slipping his hand down her cheek, her jaw, her collarbone. He stopped at her shoulder, clutching it lightly. He lifted himself up so that he could position his mouth precisely against the column of her neck. 

But before he bit down, he pressed a kiss against her neck. It was reverent. Worshipful almost. Tav fought back a shiver, holding good on her promise to remain still. 

When his fangs finally sank into her skin, it was with a gentleness far greater than Astarion had ever shown before. Tav felt only the slightest prick of pain before the icy numbness began to spread under her skin. For the first time since she’d agreed to let him feed on her, the act felt like something other than a means to satiate him. It felt akin to the intimacy she had felt when they had been together that first time, in the moonlit forest following their victory party with the tieflings. They were joined together, even if it wasn’t in the same way as then. 

She hummed contentedly as he continued to drink her in. One hand against his scalp, she combed her fingers through his hair with the devotion of a supplicant. Her other arm lifted to wrap around his waist, rubbing his lower back in slow, measured strokes. 

He groaned softly at the feeling of her embrace. Whether she had meant it to be or not, her caresses were a subtle reminder to withdraw before he took too much of her. Extracting his fangs from her neck, Astarion licked softly at the blood welling from the two puncture marks he’d left in her skin. 

Taking her blood was the nearest thing to a religious experience he had ever had. She tasted holy. As if one drop alone could absolve him of all his past sins. 

“Finished already?” she asked. Her vocal cords vibrated against his lips. A delightful thrum. 

“Mm, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop if I go any longer,” he murmured against her skin. 

She hummed again in acknowledgement. 

“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever known,” he whispered, planting one last kiss on her neck before rolling off of her. 

“Only for you,” she replied, turning onto her side to face him. She placed her hand gently over his heart. “My star.”

He stilled in surprise. “Wh-what did you call me?”

“My star,” she intoned. Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “That’s what your name means, you know. Star.”

Astarion just stared at her, too shocked to speak. Her words had shaken something loose in the back of his mind. Something from long ago. A memory perhaps. Or a memory of a memory. It was so dusty, it was hard to tell. 

Someone else had called him “my star” once. Her face was blurry in his mind’s eye, but she seemed beautiful. Regal, even. And her voice - it was a faint echo, but it sounded so sincere. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He heard Tav’s voice drawing him back from the recesses of his mind. He blinked once, twice, before refocusing on the woman in his arms. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I didn’t mean to upset you by calling you that.”

“No… you didn’t. Not at all,” he assured. “I… I think you caused me to remember something… My… my mother used to call me ‘my star,’ I think.” 

“You remembered your mother?” Tav asked, hopeful.

“Barely. It was like peering through fog. But yes… I think I did,” he paused, reflecting. 

Tav remained silent, giving him time to process what he had recalled. 

Finally after a few moments, he squeezed her waist and grinned. Her breath caught in her throat at his expression. 

It was open. Boyish. Happy. 

Quick as a flash, he leaned forward to press a light kiss against her lips. It was chaste. The kind of kiss a man would give the woman he was courting. It was over before she knew it, but still, it felt wonderful. Like another wall had fallen down around his heart. She felt honored to witness it. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, clutching her close to him as they settled down to sleep. “Thank you.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x mc #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3 #dancingbirdiewrites #astarion x f!reader #bg3 astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #astarion baldurs gate #tav x astarion #soft astarion #astarion fluff

[novantinuum]

mmmmmmm. messy ass ramble thoughts ahead. this is not coherent, it is 1am, you have been warned.

so i've been thinking about that "i can fix anything! i can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it!" line during steven's lil manic panic moment in the ep everything's fine in the context of like... og SU episodes

this whole lil manic slip is one that's like... it seems a little extreme for him as a character at first, when one looks at the situation on surface.

but i think it really does shed a LOT of light onto one of his deepest fear. the same fear he's harbored for a good damn deal of the show.

"i didn't wanna hurt anyone!"

this moment comes just a few eps after the S3 finale 'reveal' of rose shattering pink diamond. in that final scene of the season, steven gets 'confirmation' from garnet that this happened, and seems to accept it for what it was- a difficult decision made amidst a treacherous war.

but also, he Doesn't.

because he's the legacy rose left behind. because each and every day he's growing more into his power. because now, with this reveal of rose's decision to shatter on the table, he's putting each and every decision he makes under a microscope.

he had no choice, he claims. she wouldn't let him help her.

he had no choice. it was self defense.

but is that true?

isn't that the same thing his mom probably told herself before ending a gem's life forever?

even though she poofed bismuth and holed her away for suggesting the very same idea??

rose became a hypocrite... so what if HE becomes the hypocrite, too?

see, with steven... i think it's really easy in the main show to sorta... observe all his actions on the mere surface without considering the deeper tickings of his psyche. like... take lars being brought back to life. from audience POV, that's a good deed. steven just saved someone with his magic! positive moment.

but genuinely... i think this was one of the worst moments of his entire life. i think he's still haunted by it- by the fact that he can just "fix" people in that way. and i think fixing jasper's shattered gem only made the specter of that day worse.

steven believes his role is to be the Shield.

the protector.

the one who is willing to do whatever it takes- even up to turning himself in for a crime he didn't commit- to protect his family and his friends.

and like, we all know that it's not steven's FAULT that lars died. BUT- he still died while under steven's protection.

and so the same way steven blames himself for "hurting" bismuth, jasper, and eyeball, he blames himself for killing lars. mentally, he Takes Responsibility for his death. yet another tick mark in the box of horrible "mistakes" he's made, yet another tick mark landing him just a little closer to the rose he's desperately trying not to become.

and worst of all... it's a mistake he "covers up."

because his tears are able to bring him back from the dead entirely.

and years later he realizes this is true for gems as well ;-;;;

so yeah, i absolutely think lars' death was also at the back of his mind when he said that line at the beginning

what steven saw in the depths of his mind as he was panicking there was him slipping down a slippery slope of violence that he couldn't escape from

first, causing harm to other gems and calling it self defense...

then, letting your friend die protecting YOU when you're the one who should be protecting him and facing NO consequence for this misgiving because you bring him back to life

then, expressing anger so visceral it can shatter floors, destroy whole rooms, flip vans. out of control. inexcusable.

then... outright shattering a gem in a duel while training to hone that anger. once again, facing NO consequence because you bring her right back.

then, that sudden, terrifying thought of "what if i shattered white diamond"

like, steven has absolutely no framework by which to separate his actions from genuine desire or just plain abstract thought.

he has no framework by which to understand the beautiful tool of adding a "man would it be fucked up or what-" to the beginning of those sorts of intimidating, dark musings.

he has no framework by which to understand the complexities of his trauma, and the way in which genuinely fighting back against someone he once called an enemy might feel empowering- instead, it would seem he's disgusted in retrospect with how deep he pressed into that fight, how much a part of him ENJOYED it, all because of the horrid destination it led to.

anyways at this point steven thinks he has now become the Hypocrite like his mom, and that he's just destined to hurt everyone around him forever but never be punished for it and Ouch

this post has no end, these were just ramble thoughts, the end. goodnight. i am sleepy and need to prepare to make Wig tomorrow bc OH boy i am con crunch.

yeehaw .

#jen rambles #su #su future #steven universe #su meta #???? maybe??? #it's messy but it is Thoughts

[katyusha454]

I think I've found the most tragic ship in BG3 and I need to rant about it

I've seen a decent number of people discuss and write about Dark Justiciar Shadowheart, but they always focus on what she's like post-game when she's fully committed to Shar. Which is a fine thing to focus on! Especially when you're writing smut where she's a mean domme. Post-game DJ Shadowheart is a fascinating character. But I feel like people neglect to consider what she's like during the transition phase of Act 3, where she's become Shar's Chosen but hasn't yet Done The Thing that caps off her personal questline. And there is SO MUCH potential for angst and drama during that time frame.

IMO the most important aspect of this stage of her development is that she is not evil yet. She simply made a single bad decision and now she feels like she's in too deep to do anything but double down on it. She's spent her whole life trying to "fake it 'till you make it" and she's only just now starting to transition out of that and into sincere belief. All the misgivings and insecurities she's shared with you are still there, just buried deeper. That desire to love others and do good hasn't yet been completely stamped out. In my Dark Justiciar Origin run, I try to do good things whenever possible as long as I can find a way to rationalize it as benefiting Shar. (but I still ended up saying enough evil-sounding things to make Minthara incredibly horny for me)

So where does Karlach fit in?

Well, turns out when you play as Origin Shadowheart, Shar doesn't make you break up with your partner. In fact, Shar says absolutely nothing to you about your romantic situation. This is really weird if you're romancing anyone other than Karlach, but I think it makes perfect sense for Shar to tolerate a relationship with Karlach for the time being. It's the ideal opportunity for Shar to prove a point. Karlach is dying, and no matter what Shadowheart does, this relationship is going to end in painful loss. Shar wants Shadowheart to fall in love with Karlach only to have that love abruptly ripped away from her. It perfectly demonstrates everything Shar believes about love: that it's fleeting and will always hurt you in the long run. Better to just avoid it entirely so you don't get hurt.

And Shadowheart knows all this. She's studied Sharran scripture extensively, after all. She knows that Shar is trying to teach her a lesson, she knows that the longer the relationship lasts and the more emotionally intimate it gets, the more the end is going to hurt. So why doesn't she break it off? Partly it's because she loves Karlach and doesn't want to end things; she's probably in denial at least a little bit. But I think it's also partly because she's a bit of a masochist. She thinks she deserves to suffer because she knows, at least subconsciously, that she's still not a very good Sharran. She can see the loss coming and she hopes the experience will bring her closer to Shar.

You'd think Karlach would be unwilling to put up with DJ Shadowheart's fanatical bullshit, but personally I think Karlach would stick it out for a whole mess of reasons. Number one, she can still see the good in Shadowheart and she refuses to give up on her partner. She's clinging tightly to the hope that Shadowheart can still be redeemed, even though she probably understands that it's a long shot at best.

Number two, she blames herself. When you play as Tav/Durge or another Origin, Shadowheart will have a conversation with you before deciding what to do in the Shadowfell. But if you play as Shadowheart, none of your companions says a word to you. In the context of this ship, I choose to interpret that as Karlach being too trusting. She's seen the good in Shadowheart, after all. She's so certain Shadowheart will do the right thing that she doesn't think she needs to speak up. It's not until too late that she realizes what Shadowheart needed was for someone to say "hey, are you sure about this?" So now she feels she needs to make up for that failure somehow by continuing to try and nudge Shadowheart in the right direction even though it seems impossible.

And number three, Karlach's just plain lonely. As fucked-up as this relationship is, she's still getting companionship and intimacy, and she doesn't think she has time to cultivate a new relationship if she breaks up with Shadowheart. She wants someone to be with her and hold her hand at the end, even if that someone is a brainwashed cultist.

In sum, both of them know that their relationship is extremely unhealthy; that it's hurting them now and will hurt them more in the future. But they both refuse to end it for their own reasons. And good gods, the ANGST. ARE YOU FEELING IT NOW, MISTER KRABS?

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #shadowheart #karlach #shadowlach #dark justiciar shadowheart

[rebouks]

Brodie Sampson was a foreboding man, but he somewhat reminded Robin of his father; tough and weathered on the outside, with a soft, gooey centre reserved for those who knew him closely. His voice was gruff when he finally decided to speak.

“I thought I told you not to wander off-.. and who is this?”

Alex rolled her eyes, resenting the way her father constantly scolded her for leaving the watchtower, despite the fact that he left for hours and hours every day.

“I was bored, and this is Robin-.. but he can’t talk.”

Brodie scoffed, “That’s convenient.”

“He’s fun and nice, don’t stress over it-.. please?” Alex asked, or rather, demanded, throwing a dusty notepad and a pencil in front of Robin. He’d promised to write his address down for her so she could write to him, they were going to be pen-pals!

Brodie grumbled, immediately dropping any misgivings, just as Alex had asked. “What do you want from the store?”

“Gummy worms!” Alex shouted.

“You’ll have no teeth left…” Brodie tutted, grabbing his coat.

“They’ll grow back.” Alex shoved a finger in her mouth, prodding the exposed gum where her front teeth used to be.

“Hm-.. you better get yourself gone soon, son. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.” Brodie squinted at Alex as he headed out, as if to warn her against convincing Robin to stay any longer; she stuck her tongue out at him.

Robin nodded as Brodie left, hastily scrawling down the rest of his address. He wondered if he ought to write anything else, an apology perhaps? He felt bad that he hadn’t managed to speak to Alex yet, but he was going home soon, so the opportunity had already passed. Maybe he didn’t have anything interesting to say, anyway.

“He’s nice really, he’s just-.. moody, or whatever.”

Robin forced a smile as she continued.

“It’s so not fair, having to stay cooped up in here all day-.. what does he expect?”

Robin supposed he expected his daughter to listen to him, though he also supposed it wasn’t fair that she had to stay here alone every day either. Did she go to school? Were they on some kind of permanent vacation? He’d have to remember to ask her when they wrote to one another, they’d have more chance of getting to know each other that way-.. especially since he still seemed unable to talk like a normal human being.

Alex hovered at the top of the staircase, blocking Robin’s path.

“I don’t want you to go-.. home, I mean.” She clarified.

For some reason, Robin found it hard to read Alex, but he could sense enough to know that she was lonely. She seemed much more present than anyone else he knew; often avoiding thinking about the past or the future, or ruminating on her thoughts for too long, instead acting on contagious, frivolous impulsiveness.

He couldn’t decide whether it was refreshing or frustrating. He’d gotten used to knowing what went on in people’s minds, and whether he liked it or not, Alex was an enigma. Robin would’ve done anything to avoid going home-.. and back to school, but since he couldn’t say so out loud, he did the next best thing.

“Ough!” Alex squeaked with surprise as Robin yanked her off her feet, wrapping his arms around her in a vice like bear hug.

Since he was so awkward with his words-.. or lack thereof, she’d wrongly assumed he’d be weirded out by physical affection too. Giggling slightly, she decided it was quite nice to be wrong. Her father wasn’t exactly a hugger, and it wasn’t as though she had anyone else she could randomly accost with her need for affection, people would think she was odd or clingy.

“I guess you don’t want to go either?” She asked, almost rhetorically.

Robin shook his head vigorously, tilting backwards precariously until Alex squealed again.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.. I promise I’ll write!”

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #alexandra sampson #brodie sampson #helppppppp they're too cute #i need to go lay down #let's just stay here forever #😭 #forever in between is now forever camping fkjdkfj

[morganas-pendragons]

All My Love | Twelfth Doctor

@pompeiianbollockr

Set during the blindness arc in Season 10 because I love me some vulnerable Doctor. I don't care if it's not in Twelve's character. He gets to be vulnerable because I SAID so :D

He hasn't spoken to you since before you landed on the space station. In fact, it's been nearly a week. It's been nearly a week since The Doctor allowed himself to kiss you. To touch you.

And possibly the most devastating part.. to see you.

Self sacrificial. That was one of the best words you'd ever used to describe him in the time you'd known this face. This face. With all its quirks, and all the things he hates about it: The attack eyebrows, the lines, the wrinkles and the age... Despite all the things he'd hated about this face, the one thing he'd learned from traveling with you is that the faces didn't matter.

He truly believed you loved him for him. You knew it. He knew it. This, though... This was something he wasn't sure he was going to come back from. The Doctor had spent centuries gallivanting across the universe, running further and faster from home because he couldn't dare look back, with promises of adventures on his lips and desperation for escape in his heart.

"Tell me... am I a good man?"

You scooted closer to where he was sitting on the stairs and tentatively rose your hand to graze your fingertips across his temple and card through those unruly silver curls. He shivered at the sensation and forced his eyes open to meet yours as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The best man I will ever know."

He hasn't forgotten the feeling of your lips meeting the skin under his ear. Or the first time he'd kissed you of his own accord. Or the first time you'd marked him in the dead of night in his bedroom, where your lips had branded his skin. The way he'd linked your fingers together on either side of your head.

The sound of your voice calling his name. The sound of your voice in general, so soft and sweet and good...

That is something he clings to so tightly now. All the memories of the past - mere years for you, millions of years for him - that had opened his eyes to the truth: Despite all his misgivings and all his failures, he too was someone deemed worthy of loving.

You had brought a light into his life that The Doctor had not realized he'd been so deprived of. It was the light of humanity, of hope, of a heart far too big for this universe that nobody would ever thank you for. You deserved so much better than him.

And yet, you didn't want better.

You only wanted him.

He can't figure out why he's so... sad. There's an empty hole in his hearts and his mind where someone used to be, where the memory and the love of someone he cared for used to occupy, and the realization he cannot place who they are is angering him.

The Doctor has always been vengeful. The Oncoming Storm, The Valeyard, Timelord Victorious. He has rage written into the very essence of his bones and a desire to protect and save people in a way no one had ever saved him from himself.

"Hey you," You dragged your fingers across his shoulder blades as you came to sit beside him in the open doorway of the TARDIS. "Where did you go?"

That was one of the things he'd first recognized he loved about you. Despite this body having difficulties with physical affection and intimacy, he'd learned how to communicate with body language and gazes. Absent looks. Looks of adoration. Affection. Longing. That was all it took.

And you still read him like a book.

"Something's missing," He lightly knocked on his temple as you reached out and took his hand in your own. The Doctor let you. It was like he could feel the sunlight and warmth seeping from you into him. The light overwhelming the dark. "In here. There's someone who's supposed to be in here with the rest of them. I don't remember."

You did. You did, and Clara had made you promise before she flew away that you would never help him remember. That you would help him carry the weight.

"Maybe you're not supposed to. We're all stories in the end," You whisper. The Doctor softened as he lifted your hand to his lips and tentatively brushed them against your knuckles. "And maybe some of those stories become songs. Whispers of melodies and lines that hold the things we cannot remember."

All of his memories are composed in a form of music: Lines upon lines of melancholic notes in the minor key that is his endless life, with crescendos of bright notes meant to convey the optimism and light brought by the companions who travel alongside him.

And when they leave, the decrescendo extends over what feels like years, softening to a singular note that eases into silence.

Him, alone, on his own battlefield. That's how he feels right now. Battling the recognition that he may never be able to bask in the light again. That he may always be victim to the darkness.

So The Doctor lets the darkness win. He distances himself from you because it's better to face the darkness alone.

However, you are not willing to let him.

***

You know him. You know him better then you know yourself, and you have known him long enough to know his tells when it comes to how he keeps his secrets. How he lets himself lie. You are the only person who is able to truly see The Doctor.

You would be lying if you said you weren't hurt by his sudden distance. He hadn't done this since he'd recently regenerated. When he'd been resentful of his new body, of the world, and of who he was now.

You had lost count of all of the times that you had followed the sound of grief and heartache and despair into the darkness of his bedroom. All the times he'd turned you away. All the times he'd left you out in the cold of the TARDIS hallways.

All the times he'd finally given in and allowed himself to be held.

You'd been longing to do that again. To be the one being held, to be reminded that he did indeed still love you. The Doctor always went on about having ''a duty of care'' for you and for Bill.

Did your self hatred overwhelm your duty of care, Doctor? Did the coward finally win?

When Bill and Nardole had disappeared, you had stayed behind with The Doctor when he'd attempted to read the Veritas. You had been right around the corner when you were alarmed by the sound of pained groaning coming from within the cage.

"Cardinal, it worked. I can see. Not well enough. Not yet."

Dread bubbled low in your stomach as you approached the cage from behind. Hadn't his blindness been cured? What was he talking about?

"Think about the universes. Whatever you need, you can always borrow." He blinked heavily. Once, twice, three times to try and clear the haze from over his eyes. You were standing just outside of his peripheral vision. He wouldn't be able to tell you were there. And after shutting you out, after days of nothing.. This upset you. This hurt. "As long as you pay it back. I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes, but... I will be able to read this."

He slammed his hand on top of the Veritas. You weren't paying attention anymore. The next thing you knew, the lights were going out, and you were running to keep up with him even though he did not know you were there.

You tried not to let your hurt show. Or for him to hear it in your voice.

That would come later.

***

When all was said and done, you found him in the console room. He was still adjusting to learning how to identify when people were approaching based off of his other senses. It took The Doctor a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps approaching, but he did turn from his seat on the pilot's chair nearest to the console to where he thought you were standing.

He also didn't know that you were very aware he was still blind.

"Darling? Is that you? You should know that I always know it's you. Don't be coy."

"I'm mad at you."

His brow rose at that. "And why would that be?"

You walked forward to stand in the natural part of his legs. "For all of the times you have dragged me across the universe," You begin, swallowing your fear as you take both his hands and settle them on your hips while you settle in his lap. "For all the times I have had with you, the years I have known you. I never thought you'd be this thick."

The Doctor snorted. Did you not know this face? He was ridiculously thick headed.

"You should know by now that I am extremely thick," He argued, allowing his fingers to drift under the fabric of your cotton shirt and drum lightly against your hips. "Thick headed and arrogant and a selfish old man."

"An old man who forgot the first promise we ever made." You have yet to touch him. To properly touch him. ''Tell me. When did you forget?"

He struggled to keep hold of those memories. The early ones. When one has an infinite life, you do your best to hold onto what is precious.

"You can't." The Doctor had declared. It had been mere weeks since he'd regenerated, and he was so unsure, so scared. He did a remarkable job of hiding it. "You can't love me."

It was also the first time you'd properly been able to communicate how you felt to him. Eleven had called you, desperate and longing and begging you to understand, to remember that he's still The Doctor despite having a different face.

You had never had the courage to tell his younger face that you loved him. When Eleven had helped you to recognize the fear underneath that worn, aged face, you'd walked right back into the TARDIS and declared it with all the courage of a soldier facing a battlefield alone.

"I do love you. I have loved you. It took a while for me to recognize it, but I do. It's not a lie. It's not a trick or deception. It's me." You took your hand and placed it on his chest. He winced, though briefly, because this body was not quite ready to accept more physical contact than that. "Being brave."

"Promise me then. No secrets. No tricks." He murmured. You took the opportunity to close the gap of space between you, keeping your hand in its place as his grey eyes met yours. You shivered as he brought his own hand up to cradle your jaw. Your lips parted on their own accord as his eyes flickered down to them before slowly dragging his gaze upward to meet your own. "Promise me that you will keep them safe."

"Them?"

"Those fragile, beating things you've held in your hands since we met. Tell me," His breath fanned across your face as he hesitantly leaned inward. "What does it feel like to hold a Timelords hearts?"

"I asked you to keep me safe," The Doctor remarked. "That's not your job. It was an unrealistic promise."

"You're forgetting the beginning of that promise," You finally leaned inward enough that The Doctor could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He froze as you lightly tapped his sonic glasses. "No secrets. Take them off."

He did not move for almost a minute and a half. The Doctor knew that he should've seen this coming. He should've known you were clever enough to figure him out.

He removed one hand from under your shirt and removed the glasses willingly. Your heart hammered painfully hard in your chest as you were greeted with the familiar grey of his eyes. This time, however, they were cloudy. They were almost... dark.

"It never went away. I just didn't know how to properly tell you." The Doctor shrugged. "You deserve better. It's as I've said. Selfish old man, traveling across the universe with his best-"

He paused as you pressed a fingertip to his lips. The Doctor hummed and kissed your finger, reveling in the feeling of warmth tracing his face reverently.

"I wish you'd just told me." You murmured. You pressed yourself closer, dragging his hand up your hip until his thumb was pressing hard enough against your skin to feel your heartbeat. "You know me better than this. I love you. You have all my love."

"Even without my sight?" He asked. "I can't... I can't see you. And it's devastating."

That was a peculiar way to describe it. "What could be devastating about that?"

"You really don't know, do you?" He replied. You took both of his hands and slowly lifted them to your face, setting his thumbs against the curve of your lips. "It's hard to come to terms with the darkness winning when you've learned to love the light."

Oh.

"You can't see me," You whisper. You shiver as he drags his fingers across your mouth slowly, allowing them to travel across your face. "But you can learn how to find the light again. Darkness isn't forever."

You spent what felt like hours in silence after that. The Doctor allowed himself to drink in the warmth for the first time in ages, humming as you allowed him to relearn your face. The shape of your eyes. The sweep of your nose, the curve of your lips, the texture of your hair under his fingers.

When he was done, your breath caught as he tangled his fingers in your hair and dragged your head back just enough to expose the slope of your neck. "My love," His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Tell me, what does it feel like?"

It took you a moment to find your voice as he lowered his head to drag his teeth across your pulse point, followed by the warmth of his lips that elicited a shiver from deep within you. "What does.. What does what feel like, Doctor?"

The last thing he says is, "Being the light." Before he's capturing your lips with his own, and the light overcomes the darkness once again.

#twelfth doctor x reader #12th Doctor x Reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who oneshots

[vulpisnocturna]

Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter II - Captivity

Chapter I

Read on AO3

Warnings: captivity, coercion, violence (not against reader), psychological manipulation, Yandere Chrollo

Word count: 6k

Your mouth felt pasty and dry, and your temples were throbbing, head spinning and arms and legs weak, as though numbed by keeping them in one position too long. You didn’t remember going to sleep the night before.

Shit, had you forgotten to set an alarm? Were you late for work?

You opened your eyes, blinking in the dim sunlight. Sunlight...?

Fuck. If there was sunlight, it meant you were definitely late. You stood up, still groggy from sleep, your head spinning, but when you went to pull the duvet up, the bed in front of you looked different. Nothing like yours. You looked around: it was a large bedroom, with a stone fireplace and a rust-coloured loveseat in front of it, a walk-in closet with the sliding door left ajar, a large bay window covered by sage green curtains-

You did a double take. Sitting on an armchair next to the window, a book on his lap, sat a man staring at you.

No, not any man. Chrollo.

You stumbled back, shards of the night before rising to the surface of your mind. He had- broken in, and drugged you, and God, where were you? What had he done to you? You took a step back, your heartbeat deafening in your ears, fingertips trembling, gut-twisting panic taking a hold of you as you looked around, glancing at the door.

You had to get out, had to leave, had to escape-

‘Calm down, darling’ came his unruffled, soft voice, and you stared at him, continuing to walk backwards, keeping your eyes on him. Anything- Anything to hit him with-

‘W-where am I? What did you do to me?’ you stammered, voice shaking as you glanced around you. Lamp. You could hit him with the lamp. Or maybe the vase on the dresser?

‘This is our apartment for the time being, my love’ he said, calmly closing the book he was holding and setting it down on the coffee table next to him, ‘you will notice you are wearing the clothes you were wearing yesterday night, all except your shoes. I did not undress you, nor did I act in any untoward way. Now, please, take a seat’

Darling? My love? Our?

You shuddered. He was completely insane. He had kidnapped you. Kidnapped you and locked you God knew where.

Your chest felt tight, and air was not reaching your lungs. Your legs were weak, and you couldn’t help but flinch when he stood up, calmly walking towards you. He had a weird cross tattoo on his forehead, which you assumed had been covered by the cloth when you had met him. Was he a Satanist?

Your brain was swarmed with visions of him using you for some kind of twisted ritual, strapping you an altar and using a butcher’s knife to carve you open in some gory sacrifice.

‘Stay right there! Don’t take another step!’ you yelled, voice deranged with terror, and Chrollo tilted his head at you as you picked up the cylindrical glass vase and held it like a bat.

‘I understand you must have your misgivings about me, darling-‘ he started, but you didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, any of his perverse pet names and delusions.

‘Shut the fuck up! Not another word’ you shouted, retreating towards the door. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his eyes darkened, his fingers flexing at his side as he took another few steps towards you.

You bolted to the door, slamming it behind you and running down the corridor, catching sight of what you thought might be the front door next to the living room. You couldn’t hear his footsteps, and you didn’t turn around, pulling on the doorknob. Locked. The keys. Keys. There, in the bowl on the accent table next to you. You grabbed them, fingers shaking as you tried one of the two and frantically turned it, pulling on the handle again. It didn’t open. You tried the other one. Nothing.

You turned around, screaming when you found him staring at you a few feet away. You threw the vase at him, and his hand moved so quickly you barely even saw it, shattering the vase mid-air, making the glass rain next to him. You screamed, flattening yourself against the door, eyes wide and sawed breaths tearing through you.

Glass crunched under his boots, and you went to punch him when he got too close, but he was much faster. Before you knew it, he had picked you up and flung you over his shoulder. You hit his back and flailed around, uncaring if he dropped you, but it was like hitting a wall.

‘If you are set on continuing with this futile behaviour, I will have to restrain you, dearest’ he said calmly, coldly, as he carried you to the bedroom again. You screamed your lungs out, yelping when he tossed you on the bed and climbed over you. You swung blindly, thrashing around, throwing yourself away from him. He dragged you back by your leg, catching your arms and pinning them down above your head with one hand, his other one pinning your leg with such strength that you could not move a muscle. He put his leg over your other one, effectively cutting out all movement.

‘Are you finished?’ he asked, and you started screaming, calling for help, and you saw his lips tighten as he grabbed something from his pocket. His forehead cloth. He stuffed it in your mouth, leaning over to open the drawer of the nightstand. Rope. It was rope. You let out muffled grunts, writhing underneath him, but he tied your wrists to the headboard anyway. He pinned your legs down, taking another rope and tying your ankles to the foot of the bed.

Chrollo let out a sigh, impassively staring at you before he got up and lifted the armchair, setting it down next to the bed and sitting on it.

‘This would not have been necessary if you behaved. I advised you this would be the case, but I can see you want to be a brat. Very well then. One way or another, you will listen to me’ he said, and you stared at him with a mixture of hatred and terror, which he did not seem perturbed by.

‘My full name is Chrollo Lucilfer’ he said, looking at you, resting his elbows on his knees. You stared back, though your eyes were much harsher than his.

Chrollo Lucilfer. Assuming it was his family name was ludicrous. You wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did not even have parents and had just spawned from Satan himself.

‘I am not looking to kill or harm you in any way. In fact, it is quite the opposite. You see, I have nothing but the deepest devotion for you. I first caught a glimpse of you at that library you always used to visit on Saturdays a month ago, and came to realise you were the most captivating woman I had ever met. Your life was truly heart-rending, my love. Stuck in a miserable job undeserving of your talents and intellect, living in a dingy, unsafe neighbourhood, with mindless, mediocre acquaintances and no one to care for you or protect you... I had to intervene. You see, you are so oblivious, darling. This world is a very dangerous one for someone like you; you cannot hope to defend yourself. I had to take you with me, so that I could protect you. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to you’ he said, his voice sickeningly soft, his big grey eyes making a mockery of fondness.

Something had happened to you. He had happened to you. And what were you going to do? What was there to do? He seemed... too strong. Maybe he wasn’t human, and he actually was Lucifer himself.

‘Now, I understand you may think me unfair for taking you from your life, but let me reassure you: your life with me will far exceed the quality of your previous one. Anything you want- except, of course, to run from me or see past acquaintances, I will give you. Whether it be food, books, paintings, jewellery... ask, and providing it will be my pleasure. You won’t have to live month to month, money will never be an issue for you ever again. Of course, I will also offer you any and all kind of affection and companionship your heart desires. I will take interest in your interests, and it would please me immensely if you did the same with mine. I can appreciate that this is a sudden change and we skipped some steps in our relationship, therefore, I will not force myself on you- unless, of course, you want me to. I can be patient, darling, because when we finally make love, I want it to be unforgettable’ he said, his voice slightly breathy as he uttered the last sentences.

You squirmed, biting hard around the cloth that smelled just like him, hoping your eyes would do the talking for you. Insane. He was crazy if he thought you would ever want him- anywhere near you. You would find a way out. If he thought he could make you into his meek little prisoner, he was sorely mistaken.

‘Do not glare at me like that, my love. It only makes you look more ravishing. Especially in such a compromising position- relax; I will not attempt to take you now. You are far too shaken as of now. Alas, there are also some rules to this new life, because I cannot trust you yet. First of all, do not attempt to run from me. I will find you, and when I do, the results will not be pretty. I will not physically harm you, but your acquaintances... well, I do not have any issues with paying them a visit. Secondly, I will be sleeping in this bed, and so will you. It’s an obvious step in our relationship, and I want to be able to hold you at night. My third rule is that were you to ask anyone for help, they would have to be disposed of. I would not be pleased’ he sighed, and you gulped, looking at him. Was he... a murderer? Would he kill your friends, your family?

‘My occupation will require us to move often, but I will make it as comfortable as possible for you. You don’t have to do anything. And I want to reiterate that I don’t expect you to be my maid. You are my woman, and you don’t have to clean or cook unless you feel like you want to. Of course, I would love it if you cooked a meal for us, but I can care after myself and you. Oh, and one last thing. I think it is quite clear now, but do not attempt to attack me. You won’t be able to injure me, and you will end up in this unfortunate position again. The time I will leave you like this will depend on how displeased I am with your attempt’ he said, running a hand through his hair and getting up.

Your eyes followed him, and you tried to process the delusional rant he’d gone on, but you struggled to think anyone could be so fucked up. He was... obsessed with you? Wanted you to be his girlfriend?

‘Now. It’s been more than twenty-two hours since I visited you at your house. You need to eat. I’m going to make you something quickly’ he said, walking out of the room, leaving you gagged and tied up on the bed.

Crazy. He was completely crazy. What if you had to go to the bathroom? And did he really think you were going to eat anything he gave you?

You were actually surprised to see him come back only ten minutes later holding a plate with a ham and cheese toastie. You eyed it suspiciously as he sat on the armchair and placed it on the nightstand, undoing the bindings on your hands. He removed your gag, and you coughed, wiping your lips and glowering at him.

‘Don’t do anything foolish, darling’ he said, taking the plate and putting it on your lap, staring at you intently as you gingerly took one half in your hands. You glanced at him. Like hell you trusted that.

You put it down, slamming it on the nightstand even though you were starving, not having eaten since lunch on Sunday.

‘It’s a normal sandwich. Eat it’ he said, smiling passively at you. A fake smile. You bristled.

‘Fuck you’ you hissed, but his smile did not waver.

‘Alright. You are suspicious of me, that is fair enough. Mhm. Wait here, darling’ he said, getting up and leaving the room once more.

Yeah, as if.

You went to undo the rope binding your feet, but found that from the neck down, you were completely paralysed. Nothing you did made you move. What had he done? You hadn’t eaten nor drank anything he’d given you. You could move just fine a second ago.

You were starting to panic when he came back and your body started working again, though you still felt weird.

He sat down, holding a knife and a pomegranate. Your brow furrowed, and you stared at him as he placed a bowl on his thigh and started cutting the pomegranate into sections.

‘If you cannot trust me to prepare a meal for you, at least have some fruit. Here, I am showing you the entire process. The knife doesn’t touch the fruit, it cuts into the surface of it. You can eat it with your hands, so you can be sure that you wouldn’t run into any issues. Is that enough for you?’ he asked, cutting the pomegranate into quarters like it was made of butter and splitting it apart with his hands, tapping the knife on the back to make the seeds fall into the bowl. You watched the whole process like a hawk, and he did not put anything on the seeds, nor did he touch them with his knife.

That should mean it was safe, right?

He discarded the shell of the pomegranate on the plate where the sandwich lay untouched, handing you the bowl. You stared at it, and then back at him, but he had already pulled out a book and opened it, flicking through the pages.

You narrowed your eyes, taking up a few seeds and eating them. They tasted so sweet. You wouldn’t tell him that, but pomegranates were one of your favourite fruits. It was one of those things where you liked them a lot, and yet, the hassle of peeling them always persuaded you not to have them.

‘Let me tell you a story, darling. It’s about Nen; I imagine you are not familiar with the term. Every human being possesses aura, but only a few of them can actually use it. I won’t make it complicated, but when aura is released and utilised, it can enhance physical attributes such as strength, speed, endurance, resistance and so on. When one masters Nen, they can develop abilities. There’s all kinds of fascinating abilities, but one must stay within the grounds of one’s own Nen category. Those are Enhancement, Transmutation, Conjuration, Emission, Manipulation and Specialisation. All of those grant different powers, such as Enhancers being able, for example, to make their blows much stronger and Conjurers being able to use objects they craft in their own mind. All of those, except for Specialists’ he said, going on a long-winded explanation that you wanted to not care about, but it was so odd and outlandish that you just had to listen.

Was he talking about superpowers? And that was real? Though it would explain the inhuman speed and strength he had...

You were almost finished with the pomegranate, and you were ashamed to say you wanted more, even though you would not ask.

‘I am a Specialist. That means I do not fit into any of the other categories, and my power is simply not clear-cut. Specialists have wildly diverging abilities, and mine is called Bandit’s Secret. Can you see this book I’m holding?’ he said, holding up the weird handprint book he had in his hands. Now that you thought about it, there was a sort of light around his hand, like a hazy shroud covering it.

‘You can, can’t you? That’s because I just forced you to release your aura, darling. When I went to get that pomegranate, I used one of my Nen abilities to paralyse your body. That triggered the release of your Nen. With Bandit’s Secret, I can steal other people’s Nen abilities and make them mine’ he said, flicking through the book. You stared at him, nonplussed.

So he had asshole superpowers. What a shock.

You couldn’t see what he could possibly mean to achieve by releasing your aura or whatever. You finished your pomegranate and put the bowl down on the nightstand.

‘’I happen to have an ability called Apple of the Gods. I stole it just for you, my dear. Are you familiar with the myth of Hades and Persephone? Legend goes that Hades happened to fall in love with Persephone, Demeter’s daughter and the goddess of spring, and he abducted her, taking her to the Underworld with him. There, Persephone happened to eat one of the pomegranates that grew there, and was thus trapped in Hades’ kingdom because she had eaten the food of the Underworld. She was subsequently allowed to spend six months with her mother, which is when spring and summer would return to the world of the living, and though she had been taken by Hades, with time, she came to love him and find joy in his companionship’ he said, smiling softly at you with those eerie grey eyes. Your terrified gaze lowered to your red stained fingers, to the shell of the pomegranate you had just eaten.

No, he was just being delusional. This was another tale of obsession to justify his actions to himself. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible.

‘This ability allows me to form a bond with any individual who willingly eats food I have offered them. With this bond, I can instantly tell where they are, at all times. So long as the target eats the food, and I reveal to them the workings of my ability, the bond will snap in place. Truly, darling, you are my Persephone. We cannot be separated’ he said, giving you that placid smile that made your head spin.

No, no, no.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t- you would just throw up. Yes, you would vomit it. You jammed two fingers in your throat, pushing.

‘Oh, no you don’t’ you heard, and you were pinned down to the bed again, your hand pried from your mouth and slammed against the mattress. You yelped in pain, and the grip eased ever so slightly, still way too steely for you to even move.

‘Darling, darling... you are such a brat’ he crooned, dipping his head to press his lips on your cheek. You let out a strangled scream, turning your head, squirming underneath him as he kissed your jaw.

‘There. I’ll have to tie you up again, sweetheart. Just for a few hours, hm? And if you keep screaming, I’ll have to make you sleep again. You don’t want that, do you?’ he said softly, tying your wrists to the headboard again and lifting his head. Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a strangled sob as teardrops trickled down your temples, dampening your hair.

‘Shh, shh, my love. It pains me to have to do this too, but with the way you’re behaving, how can I expect you to stay by my side? You’ll see it’s all worth it soon. I’ll make you so happy’ he shushed you, his thumb wiping your temples, his soft lips pressing again on your cheek, on your forehead.

Two days earlier, you would’ve felt butterflies in your stomach if he did that. Now, all you felt was revulsion, fear and hatred.

He gracefully got up, smiling down at you.

‘I have business to attend to. Be a good girl and wait for me to come back. If you don’t try to get out of those knots, I will untie you when I return’ he said, walking over to the wardrobe and getting another cloth, this time a white one, and wrapping it around his forehead.

He walked away, closing the bedroom door behind him and leaving you to let out your anguish.

Chrollo let out a soft sigh, smiling to himself as he parked the car in front of the house he had visited a mere week earlier. It had taken him an hour and a half to drive there, which meant it was almost midnight now. You didn’t need to know what he was doing. But he had held on to his resentment for long enough, and it need be dealt with.

A dull, mediocre detached house in a suburban neighbourhood equally average greeted him. He made quick work of picking the lock, slipping inside and smiling slightly as he eyed the landing in front of the door. Ahh. How should he do it? Quickly, as to not waste time and go back to his darling straightaway? Or slowly and painfully, as punishment for coveting you?

He walked up the stairs, following the sound of quiet snoring to a small, messy bedroom that smelled stuffy. He grabbed the man’s arm, throwing him into the corridor, where he landed against the wall, the sound of crunching like a symphony to his ears.

Too much strength, Chrollo thought, astounded by how weak civilians were. If he didn’t control his strength, he would die straightaway. After all, judging by his wailing and writhing, he must have broken a few vertebrae.

‘Stop screaming or I will take your tongue’ he said calmly, and the man looked at him, convulsing on the floor, sweat beading his reddened face. He was pleased to see he was cognisant and his legs were in a cast, and even more to see him tremble. He conjured his book, flicking through the pages. Indoor Fish, perhaps? No, not enough pain. Maybe he should have called Feitan.

‘Who... are you?’ the man gurgled, and Chrollo turned to him, still flicking through his book in search of the perfect ability.

‘A week ago, you had lunch with a woman and revealed to her you had wanted her for yourself in the past. You and I both know you still desire her. How could you not? She is truly delightful. However, that woman happens to belong to me. I saw the messages you sent her after that. Telling her you couldn’t help but wish you’d told her sooner. And just this morning, you wrote to her that you missed her, and asked her to go on a date with you. That is unacceptable. Thinking of you coveting her, imagining touching her with your filthy hands... it truly is unbearable. Therefore, I’m afraid I will have to kill you’ he said, going back to his Indoor Fish. After all, it was perfect to truly punish his mind for its filthy thoughts.

‘You’re insane! What- what have you done with her?’ the man stammered, and Chrollo sighed, his fish appearing around him.

‘That is none of your concern. All you need to know is that I can offer her what her heart desires. You, with your weakness and meagre intellect, your lack of insight into her and paltry excuse of affection... you could never be enough for her. I can protect her, cherish her, give her anything. And she is already mine’ he said, and watched as his fish ate part of his hand with impassive interest.

‘What’s happening?’ he screeched, looking at his hand, and Chrollo glanced at him, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly.

‘Oh, my apologies. You cannot see Nen. There are two fish swarming you now. They are carnivorous creatures who enjoy the taste of human flesh. Whilst they feast on your body, you will not bleed nor will you feel any pain. Though your sanity may not survive the experience, your body will, until they disappear’ he explained, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, ‘see? Right about now, I believe one of them is about to take a bite of your calf. Fascinating, is it not?’

‘Please, let me live... I won’t think about her anymore- I won’t, you can have her!’ he started to cry, crawling on the ground. Chrollo lifted his chin, looking down at the maggot in front of him. How you could stand being around such a pitiful creature was beyond him. Perhaps, you had never had better. But you and Chrollo were perfect pieces of a puzzle, completing each other. You had made his heart beat again, given him long-forgotten emotions and breathed life into his soul. Now, he must also devote himself to you and repay the debt whilst keeping you with him. He knew you would help him find himself.

‘So this is the extent of your devotion to her. Pathetic. Is this what you call love?’ he asked, turning him on his stomach with his foot. One of the fish devoured his legs, and he looked at him, sobbing.

‘I don’t- love her... please, spare me... why can’t I feel anything? Where are... my legs?’ he asked dumbly. Chrollo clucked his tongue, already growing bored. He missed you. Perhaps he should cut this short.

‘Are you not listening to me, Hans? I think I have explained in detail what’s happening to you. Tell me, if I told you that the price for your life would be my beloved’s, the woman you claimed to love, would you allow me to kill her for you to live?’ he asked, turning the light on in the bedroom and going over to the nightstand, where a photo of you and Hans smiling was the centrepiece. Chrollo took it out of the frame, ripping Hans out of it and smiling at your smiling face.  One day, he knew you’d smile like that for him.

‘Yes! Yes, anything! Kill her, let me live- I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die’ sobbed Hans, and Chrollo sneered, mildly disgusted. He had seen humans curse their own kin under torture, but to think that it would take so little, and without any pain as well...

How could you have ever enjoyed his company? When he had no loyalty whatsoever? He took his phone out, texting Feitan. He should be close by, as he had asked him to be that morning.

‘How distasteful. Truly, Hans, you are making me feel glad I took her from people such as you. Apologies, I am just going to answer a quick call’ he said, answering the phone call.

‘What’s the job, Danchō?’ Feitan’s voice rang in his ear, and Chrollo smiled, twirling the picture of you in his fingers.

‘Hello, Feitan. I have a present for you. How long do you think you can keep someone alive after they have lost their legs and a hand? Oh, and their tongue, though I cauterised that one’ he asked, changing his power to his fire conjuring ability, carefully heating up his Ben’s Knife just as the fish disappeared and Hans started screaming and convulsing, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. Chrollo pried his jaw open, cutting his tongue with the hot knife and cleaning the blood on his shirt before he ripped the sheets into bandages.  

‘If you stop the bleeding, they can last a few hours’ said Feitan on the line, and Chrollo tied the tourniquet around Hans’ thighs and wrist, gagging him for good measure. He’d heard enough out of him anyway.

‘Alright. I’ll send you the address. Be quick’ he said, ending the call and stepping over the puddle of blood on the linoleum to walk into the bathroom and wash his hands.

‘Don’t worry, Hans. My friend should be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, try to stay alive, won’t you?’ he said, closing Bandit’s Secret and letting it disappear.

‘Personally, I am particularly fond of her smile. That she would smile at you, laugh at any tawdry joke that you may come up with... it is quite irritating. I’m sure you don’t understand. Your love for her is a mere façade, is it not? Does it make you feel better about yourself to associate with someone far superior than you are? Though even she must have found you lacking. I’m now quite certain it was only her kindness that allowed her to nurture a friendship with you’ he mused, thinking you must truly be cantankerous by now. Poor girl, he’d left you tied up for hours now. He would be home soon, though. He could not wait to fall asleep next to you.

It took Feitan only ten minutes to arrive, and when he did, Chrollo called to him to come upstairs, where he lifted an eyebrow, looking down at Hans.

‘Who is he?’ he asked, and Chrollo smiled at him, straightening up and starting to descend the stairs.

‘Someone who was in my way. Do what you want with him. Text me when he dies. That’s all’ he said, closing the front door behind him and getting in his car.

When he got home, he was pleased to see you had made no attempts to free yourself, and your eyes were overflowing with rage and only a hint of fear when he walked in, though they were raw and puffy. Ahh, you were filled with so much more fire than your friend was. He was truly undeserving of you.

‘Let me undo these, darling. You must be so sore’ he said, undoing the bindings and cradling you in his arms, kissing the top of your hair, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of it as you thrashed in his hold.

‘There. You’ll behave now, won’t you? Let me make you some food. You must be starving. Please, feel free to use the bathroom whilst I’m in the kitchen. But don’t try to lock yourself in there to hide from me. If you do, I’ll have to take away the lock’ he said, smiling at you. You pressed your pretty lips together, saying nothing as you pushed him away and walked over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Chrollo sighed, getting up and walking over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cutting up some vegetables. He was happy to hear the bathroom door open a mere ten minutes after he left you in the bedroom, and you appeared in front of him not long after.

‘Hello, darling. I am making stir fry noodles, I know you like that. Don’t worry, I have no reason to poison them. I’ll even eat some from your plate to prove it. And as far as it concerns the pomegranate earlier, it’s been digested already, so throwing up is useless, and so is refusing this food. If you do refuse it, I will have no choice but to force feed you. Your choice’ he said, watching you seethe with a placid smile. Now that he had taken care of your pathetic friend and was back with you, he was feeling much better.

‘I hate you’ you said hoarsely, and Chrollo pushed the vegetables in the pan, washing the knife and putting it back in the drawer that he locked with Nen.

‘For now’ he replied smoothly, starting to heat up the vegetables and grabbing a packet of egg noodles from the fridge.

‘I’ll always hate you’ you continued, balling up your small, delicate hands into fists as you stood in front of the breakfast bar. Chrollo gave you a sly smirk.

‘We’ll see, dearest’ he said simply, grabbing chopsticks and plates and setting them at the table. He poured you a glass of water from the tap, putting it on the table.

‘Please, sit. It will be ready in a few minutes’ he said, watching as you swallowed and eyed the water greedily, deciding to choose your battles wisely and sit down, avidly gulping down the tall glass of water he had poured you.

Chrollo smiled, filling up a jug with more water and setting it in front of you. You drank again, and he went back to put the noodles in the pan, grabbing some chopsticks and stirring them.

When it was ready, he put a generous amount in your plate, and the rest in his, setting down the pan and sitting down.

‘So, what will it be, darling?’ he asked, watching with great interest as your shoulders hunched and quivered just before you glowered at him.

‘Stop calling me that. I’m not your darling, or any of the sick pet names you’re throwing at me’ you snarled, and Chrollo tilted his head, starting to eat.

‘Well, actually, you are my darling. You are the dearest person to me, my beloved, and my love. Therefore, whether you agree with my usage of them or not, they are true, accurate representations of my feelings. Besides, watching your reaction to them is quite endearing. Your anger is quite sweet, darling’ he drawled, relishing in teasing you, seeing that cute expression on your face when your eyebrows lowered and your mouth twisted into an angry pout.

Getting a reaction out of you was all he wanted, whatever it was. He was a patient man, he could wait for your smiles and soft eyes. For now, he was amused by how much they burnt with rage. It was fascinating to see someone so emotional, so affected by anything he might say or do.

‘Will you eat, or will I have to make you?’ he pressed after a few seconds, and he thought you might break the chopsticks from the tight hold you had on them, but you did start to eat. Satisfied, Chrollo went back to his meal.

‘I’m going to get you some clothes and books tomorrow. For now, you can wear one of the outfits I got from your house. Unless, of course, you don’t want to. I’m not opposed to you wearing nothing. Quite the opposite, actually’ he continued, riling you up, watching you take the bait so, so easily.

‘Fuck you’ you snarled again. It was impressive how quickly you had discarded your fear of him in favour of boldness. It was thrilling to have someone outside of the Spider who wasn’t afraid of him.

‘If you insist, darling’ he taunted with a smirk, letting out a soft laugh at your sneer.

Despite your misgivings, you finished all your food, and Chrollo got up, putting the plates in the dishwasher and going over to you. You immediately got up, putting the table between your bodies.

‘I have left toiletries for you in the bathroom. Let me get you a change of clothes, my love’ he said, walking over to the bedroom and stepping into the closet, retrieving a clean change of clothes from the things he’d taken from your house. Sadly, he had only found one set of pyjamas he liked: it was a black T-shirt and matching black shorts, which would no doubt make your legs look amazing. He could hardly wait.

He handed them to you as you stood near the bedroom door, possibly wanting to avoid losing sight of him. How sweet, he thought.

‘I’m not wearing that’ you hissed, grimacing at the shorts he’d handed you.

‘You prefer just wearing the shirt? Let me take these back, then’ he said, taking the shorts from you, but your eyes widened and you pulled on them, snatching them from his hand, making him chuckle.

‘Just as I thought. Don’t worry, I won’t walk in the bathroom as you change. Your privacy in there is yours, so long as you do not decide to hide there’ he said, and you chewed on your bottom lip, cautiously closing the bathroom door behind you.

He took the opportunity to change and brush his teeth in the main bathroom, going back to the bedroom to see you standing in front of the window. He sighed, his eyes raking down your lovely figure, taking in the length of your legs and thighs. He wanted to run his hands on your soft skin, kiss them, grip them until you whimpered...

Chrollo closed the bedroom door with Nen once again, not wanting you to avoid him any longer. He’d missed you, wanted you for too long to lose any more precious moments. He walked over to you, catching you when you tried dodging him and stepping away.

‘Darling, it’s time for bed now. Remember, I said we’d sleep together. You don’t have to worry, I won’t touch you inappropriately’ he said, lifting you up when you started to try to wrench yourself from him and carrying you over to the bed. He flung the covers away, lying down with you, holding you to him. Your little punches and kicks felt like nothing against him, and he smiled, wrapping his arms around you more tightly, revelling in the warmth and feel of your body even as you yelled and cursed at him.

‘Darling, if you don’t stop yelling, I’ll kiss you’ he said, and you shut up immediately, making him chuckle. Though you continued hitting him.

Chrollo patiently waited until you were done with your futile attempt, and after about fifteen minutes, you were panting, your blows nothing more than taps now.

‘There. I hope it’s out of your system now’ he said, turning you to spoon you. You squirmed weakly, but it did not last long. Soon, exhaustion caught up with you, and you fell asleep.

Chrollo left your side to pull the blanket over the both of you, draping an arm around your waist and kissing your shoulder, stroking your hair gently.

‘Tomorrow will be easier for you, my love. And you will seek out my embrace in no time, I can assure you’ he said softly, closing his eyes and letting himself feel at peace with you. As it was meant to be.

Chapter III

#hunter x hunter #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh #hxh x reader

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes #tanjimimi

[skz-streamer]

Hyunjin As Reminders

Simptober Reminders M-list

Pairing: Hyunjin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff ;))))

Warnings: mention of food, surprise element ig

Notes: hes so cute oml<333333 I WANT A HYUNJIN IN MY LIFEE

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Get ready in an hour!"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The day had been proceeding like any other when a sudden text message from Hyunjin lit up your phone screen. It simply read, "Get ready in an hour." Confusion crept over you as you tried to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic message. What could he possibly mean by "Get ready"?

Brows furrowed, you texted him back, asking, "What?" You couldn't help but wonder if there was something you had forgotten, or if there was some sort of surprise in store.

Hyunjin's response came swiftly, and it was both intriguing and enigmatic. "Just trust me, wear that new dress that you have," he instructed.

Your curiosity deepened, but you decided to go along with it. "Okay?" you replied, a sense of anticipation building within you as you wondered what he had planned.

True to his word, an hour later, Hyunjin arrived to pick you up. As you opened the door and stepped out, your eyes widened in surprise. There he stood, looking incredibly handsome, with a warm smile that melted your heart. His outfit was impeccable, and you couldn't help but notice that he had put in extra effort.

Without a word, he offered his hand, and you took it willingly, feeling a rush of excitement and curiosity. The two of you set off on a short journey to a nearby café, where he had arranged a surprise for you.

As you entered the café, the atmosphere was enchanting. Soft, warm lights illuminated the space, and there was a cozy corner table waiting for you both. The ambiance was filled with a gentle charm, creating the perfect backdrop for a memorable evening.

Hyunjin pulled out your chair and you took a seat, still unsure of what was happening but eager to find out. He ordered your favorite drinks and some delicious pastries, and as you sipped on your coffee and shared sweet treats, you couldn't help but be charmed by his thoughtfulness.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you caught up on each other's lives, sharing stories and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as you enjoyed each other's company in the cozy café.

As the evening drew to a close, and the two of you strolled back to the car, you couldn't help but smile at the unexpected yet delightful surprise Hyunjin had planned :))))

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your day had been a whirlwind of misfortunes, and you couldn't help but feel like everything was going wrong. You were in the middle of trying to salvage your mood when your phone chimed with a text message. It was Hyunjin. His message was simple yet filled with anticipation: "Get ready in an hour."

This was something you were used to. Hyunjin often surprised you with impromptu plans or outings, and it had become somewhat of a normal occurrence in your relationship. However, today was different. Today, you just didn't feel good. It wasn't the right day for a spontaneous adventure, or so you thought.

With a heavy heart, you replied, "Aww, thanks, Hyune, but I don't know, I just don't feel good today." You hoped he would understand your reluctance to go out, even though it was unlike you to turn down his offers.

His response, however, surprised you. "Don't worry about it, I'll be there in an hour."

You couldn't help but smile despite your earlier misgivings. Hyunjin was persistent, and it was one of the things you loved about him. If he had his mind set on something, he wouldn't easily give up, and he always seemed to know when you needed a pick-me-up.

Reluctantly, you began to get ready, though everything felt sluggish and uninspiring. It took you longer than usual to choose an outfit, and every little task seemed like a chore. But as soon as you heard the familiar sound of his car pulling into the driveway, your mood brightened.

Hyunjin had a way of making everything better, even on days when you thought nothing could. You were grateful for his unwavering support and the way he knew just when to be there for you. With him by your side, even the gloomiest of days seemed a little brighter, and you were happy to have him in your life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The message from Hyunjin was simple yet filled with intrigue: "Get ready in an hour." It was just like him, always keeping you on your toes with his surprise dates. You had grown accustomed to these spontaneous outings, never quite knowing what he had planned but always looking forward to the adventure.

As the minutes ticked away, you got ready with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Hyunjin had a knack for making every date unique and memorable, so you couldn't help but wonder where he was taking you this time.

Exactly an hour later, you were all dressed up and ready to go. The doorbell chimed, signaling his arrival. You rushed to answer it, and there he stood, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a suitcase in hand.

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected luggage. "What's with the suitcase?" you asked, curiosity piqued.

A playful smile tugged at the corners of Hyunjin's lips as he replied, "You'll see." His voice held a hint of mystery, and it only fueled your excitement further. With him, every moment was an adventure waiting to unfold, and you knew that whatever he had planned, it was going to be a treat :0

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tags: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee @sungiesoonie  @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28  @turtledove824  @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson @aaasia111 @yangbbokari

#hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin hwang #hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fic #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin fake texts #stray kids hwang hyunjin #skz hwang hyunjin

[cuffmeinblack]

i hope you're still taking requests if not ignore this <3 but if you are, then may i request a ominis x reader x sebastian? okay so basically its ominis going up to sebastian and asking him to describe the reader, because he wants to know about his crush. but as sebastian describes the reader, ominis realizes that seb also has a crush on the reader. of course as his friend, ominis encourages seb to act on his feelings even if it means his own heart breaking. a lil angst, jk alot. thank youuu! have a nice rest of your day/night <3

You're welcome

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: fluff | love rivalry

1k words

A/n: Sorry this took ages to answer! If you know my area of interest 😏 you'll know how this is going to end. But here we go.

Ominis had heard descriptions of his new friend, though they didn't mean much to him. The superficial details were often talked of favourably, except the faded scar that ran down her cheek. He'd asked her about that particular detail and she had told him her story and Ominis had listened, enraptured, and found similarities in the pain of their childhoods. He enjoyed talking to her, his previous misgivings all but forgotten—truth be told, he had immediately disliked her due to Sebastian's inexplicable interest, but now he thought he understood.

Ominis wanted to know more about her and often wondered how other people saw her, particularly his best friend. He wondered if he would approve of Ominis' affections for the girl, and decided to broach the subject one quiet evening in the Slytherin common room whilst she was out of the castle on some adventurous errand.

"Can I ask you something, Sebastian?" Ominis asked in a low voice, trying not to draw the interest of any nearby students.

"Of course," Sebastian replied.

"Our new fifth year friend…what does she look like? Or rather, how do you see her?"

"Oh…hmmm," Sebastian hummed, considering the question.

Ominis realised it was a hard question to answer, but he was curious.

"I mostly notice her eyes, I suppose. They draw you in—she can look so intense but there's a glint in her eyes I saw the first day we met, when I knew she was…when I knew we'd be friends," Sebastian said, his sentence tapering off weakly toward the end.

Ominis nodded, his throat dry and heart quickening. He hadn't anticipated this—the way Sebastian talked, he thought he knew that wistful tone. He liked her. A lot.

"Anything else?" Ominis asked, curious still, wanting to test his new assumption.

"Her smile. It's sort of crooked, but it lights up her face. She only smiles like that when she really means it. And she has these…dimples…like little indentations in her cheeks," Sebastian carried on in barely a whisper, then cleared his throat suddenly. "I suppose that's it."

Ominis' stomach twisted. If he touched Sebastian's skin he was sure it would be burning. He knew his friend, and whilst he was an insufferable flirt, he didn't talk about any other girl like this. He might make a throwaway comment such as "she's nice to look at", but the poetic way he described their mutual friend pointed to something else. Sebastian had studied her, noticed all these details that he'd found endearing, and it made Ominis' heart ache.

Ominis would do anything for his best friend, and he wondered if this was another of those things. Could he bury his own feelings to allow Sebastian to explore his?

"Thank you for telling me," Ominis said.

"You're welcome."

-

Over the coming days, Ominis listened to the interactions between his friends with greater interest, armed with this new information, it now seemed obvious to him that Sebastian was nursing a deep affection for the girl. Whether or not she reciprocated his feelings, Ominis couldn't tell. She was easygoing and friendly to everyone, and her tie to Sebastian could be entirely platonic. Ominis supposed the only way to find out was to ask her.

It was hard to get her alone without Sebastian, the two seemed to be joined at the hip, even more since Ominis' conversation with Sebastian about her—whether this was coincidence or not, he couldn't say. Ominis managed to corner her one day before lessons began, Sebastian had run back to the dormitory to retrieve his forgotten textbook.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Ominis?" she asked, leading his arm to a quiet corner of the hallway. Her hand seemed to burn through his robes and ignite his skin, sending a prickling feeling through his body.

"I was wondering, if there's anyone that you…like. Anyone you're interested in?" Ominis asked awkwardly. Not his most eloquently posed question.

"Oh. I…maybe," she said evasively, her hand still lingering on his arm.

Ominis nodded. "Sebastian?"

The silence that greeted the question seemed to stretch on forever, until it ended abruptly with the intrusion of Sebastian who had returned, panting heavily. The hand on Ominis' arm had withdrawn suddenly with his arrival.

Ominis struggled to concentrate after that. She hadn't been able to answer his question, but to him it already seemed answered. She had admitted she had an interest in someone, and realistically who else could it be? Who else had held her attention since the day of her arrival at Hogwarts? A dejected acceptance fell over him, and he vowed to do his best to ensure their happiness—what kind of friend would he be otherwise?

Pulling Sebastian aside that evening, he prepared himself for what he had to say. He'd turned the words over in his mind, though actually forming them would prove difficult.

"...I asked her if she was interested in anyone, she didn't exactly say but it seems clear that it's you. I know you like her, Sebastian, it was obvious when you told me about how you see her," Ominis forced the words out.

"Ominis…you idiot," Sebastian said.

Ominis' mouth dropped open at the unexpected insult, though Sebastian's tone was more amused and exasperated than anything malicious.

"I do like her. And I know you do, ever since you asked me about her. She told me about your conversation earlier," Sebastian said.

Ominis felt his cheeks burning from embarrassment as Sebastian pressed on.

"She likes you, Ominis. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain cell around here. She doesn't open up to anyone like she does with you. So…if you don't ask her out I'll hex you into next week."

Ominis let out a loud laugh, releasing the tension he'd built up as Sebastian had been speaking. His head was swimming as he processed the information. He'd been wrong, so wrong. He felt a wide smile grow on his face as he imagined all the possibilities with her, stretching out before him.

"Thanks, Sebastian," Ominis said.

"You're welcome. Go get her."

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt drabble #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow fanfiction

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Lost, I think Erwin was only in 65% of the manga/anime, yet I don't think anyone has ever left such a long-lasting impression on the audience. He ranks higher than the mc in the character polls, and he even once ranked higher than Levi. People still love and praise him even though he's been dead for years. Why do you think this is? What makes him such a compelling character?

I’ve been sitting on this ask for months because it feels like such a huge responsibility to answer it. What is it that makes Erwin Smith such a compelling and enduringly popular character, despite having been written out of the story years ago? 

The most obvious reason is that Erwin is a well written character with considerable depth.  He is a brave and inspiring military commander who leads from the front and dies heroically, laying down his life to ensure the main characters live to fight another day. He plays a pivotal role in the story and, long after he dies, continues to be a motivating force for several other characters. He’s also pretty easy on the eye, which does no harm either. 

However characters like this are ten a penny in manga and anime so I don’t think this is enough to explain Erwin’s enduring appeal.  There’s a very interesting interview with Isayama from 2016 where he talks about coming to understand Erwin’s character, which I think gets to the heart of the matter.  

“...for Erwin, there’s no person I can easily compare him to…The main reason for that is probably because I didn’t have anyone in my life who was an “insightful leader” like my initial portrayal of Erwin. Of course, I’m sure there were people who were “insightful leaders” to a certain degree around me, but—and this is likely due to a quirk of my own personality—the grander a person, the more my eyes are drawn to the places where they’re frayed, or are coming apart at the seams. Armin once said of him, “If a person existed who was capable of bringing change, they would have to be able to sacrifice things that are important to them.” Erwin is certainly someone who can do that, but because I had no one in reality to model him on, and because I, the creator, had no shred of an “insightful leader” within myself to use either, I think I ended up making Erwin more and more human as I went along. Lately, though, I’ve started enjoying drawing Erwin. To put it simply, I think it’s because I am now able to write Erwin not as the “insightful leader,” but as he is inside my heart, an Erwin who is very complex inside."

And Erwin is a very complex and conflicted character.  He’s also a deeply unreliable narrator who sees his own actions in the very worst possible light. He has the ability to motivate others to great feats of heroism, but at the same time he sees himself as a fraud and a conman.  He carries a huge burden of guilt over his father’s death, yet he isn’t driven by vengeance, what drives him forward is the pursuit of knowledge and his desire to prove his father’s theories were right. He is a ruthless commander, willing to sacrifice countless soldiers to achieve his goal, but he also devised a Scouting formation that saved numerous lives. He is also quite literally haunted by all the men and women who died under his command.  He’s incredibly insightful and intelligent, always thinking several steps ahead of everyone else, but he isn’t invulnerable to being manipulated by unscrupulous characters like Zackley, who was able to spot his weakness. He believes that he alone is pursuing his own selfish dream, despite all the characters having their own dreams and motivations. Yet despite his misgivings, he is able to set aside his dream, and lay down his life for the greater goal of saving humanity. He presents an implacable facade to the world, yet he privately admits to wishing he could end his life.  So many deeply human contradictions. 

Although Erwin is a hugely compelling character in his own right, I don’t think we can overlook the importance of his relationship with Levi, who of course is the most popular character in the series (sorry Eren).  Regardless of whether you ship them or not , it’s impossible to ignore the importance of Erwin’s relationship with Levi (and vice versa). I’ve written reams over the years about Erwin and Levi’s relationship, which I’m not going to repeat here, but I am going to point the famous quote from Ono Diasuke who described Levi as the last stronghold of Erwin’s humanity, because that’s what is really important.  

Ultimately Erwin is a complex, contradictory human being and it’s his humanity, rather than his heroism, and the emotional conflict at the heart of his character that continue to fascinates and move people.

#asks #erwin smith #erwin meta #snk

[cupids-chamber]

SUMMARY: What if Scaramouche, loses his memories and returns to his old self, way before the betrayal? How would he treat his lover, what would happen? What if he gets his memories back, when you've grown fully accustomed to his old self, How would he treat you after all that?

TAGS: Gender Neutral Reader, Pre-wanderer, Fluff, Slight angst? (Not really), Scara slightly opening up to you, Sweet/Soft!Scara feul.

Scaramouche losing his memories came as an unexpected discovery to you, he had always been able to remain somewhat safe on his expeditions, so needless to say you weren’t worried in particular, though there was always that small lingering feeling that something bad might happen, however your lover as distant as he may be, made sure to reassure you despite his misgivings. 

All though your worries weren’t in vain, when he couldn’t even remember your name, surely it was beyond heartbreaking already to witness the injuries your lover sustained during his little mission elsewhere, but to forget your name was a different kind of pain. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” you mumbled underneath your breath, but even an idiot could realize how serious this situation was, Scara’ wasn’t one to joke about serious issues.. or joke in general. His standoff-ish nature resulted in him being distant and rather cold, and breaking that exterior was hard for you, yourself. And you were his partner, the one he loved and cherished most. 

You spend the next few days showing Scaramouche around the house, explaining to him about his current lifestyle, what he does… who you were.. During which time, you learned that Scara’s real name was ‘Kunikuzushi’, something that came as a surprise as you were unaware of this fact, but then again Scara never really enjoyed opening up about his past, he preferred focusing on the present, though it upset you now, realizing how much you really didn’t know about your lover. 

“That’s quite a long name, do you mind if I call you Kuni?”, to your surprise he didn’t seem against the idea at all, which was a pleasing discovery. 

The two of you spent time learning about your interests and whatnot, it pleased you to know more about Kuni, who seemed so different from Scara, he was much more open and energetic. He was expressive too, the two of you indulged in stories and much more. He seemed like the opposite of Scara’, his cold exterior replaced by a much sweeter and kinder version of itself. The revelation itself came as quite the shock to you, but you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in the change, hoping that maybe, your Scara’ could have been as sweet as the one from the past. 

“You’re a really good cook!” you stated, chowing down on the meal the Kuni had made for the two of you, “Why, didn’t I make you good meals in the past?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Yes but this is different!” you didn’t think much of your words, letting out a small smile. 

It’s been quite the while since Scaramouche had gotten his memories back, at first he can remember being curious as to how far he could take this act, he wanted to see your genuine reactions to the change in behavior, because deep down he was well aware of how distant he could be, he was curious if your opinion on him would change, especially when he looks back to the time he wasn’t yet aware and still hadn’t received his memories back. You were kind, and forgiving, that alone was a huge factor as to how someone like Scaramouche fell for you. 

He was quite certain that you’d never figure him out, but he failed and underestimate your intellect, you’ve lived under the same roof with him for a year now, and you could easily tell the difference between ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’, the way his face would go pure blank in an ounce of praise and affection, while if you were to say something of a similar style to Kuni he'd react with a energetic response, or a large grin would be plastered onto his face. If that wasn’t the only change, you could see the change between Kuni and Scara, in their habits as well, Scaramouche was much more punctual and well coordinated, following a Schedule and planning things accordingly, compared to Kuni who seemed to be carefree and would follow and do as he wished. 

The two of you were huddled on the pavement, watching the stars, settled together with little to no space in-between the two of you. “How long are you going to keep up the act?” you asked, your voice a bit above a whisper. You didn’t feel like yelling nor did you want to confront him in a direct way, “So, you’ve figured me out.” 

“For a while now, you’re quite predictable.” 

He let out a small breezy laugh, “How so?” 

“I could make an entire list if I wanted to, but I’d rather not.. You just are.” 

“...” a comfortable silence filled the area, as the two of you had a silent battle over who would speak out next. “So are you going to explain?, I think you owe me one this time.. Kuni.” 

He let out a sigh, “I do owe you an explanation, this time around” you let out a soft hum in agreement, “But I’m not ready to explain to you everything, so if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll open up to you in due time.” 

You leaned down onto his shoulder, and let out a sigh of relief, “I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can wait for a bit longer…”

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin wanderer #genshin wanderer x reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #wanderer x reader #fanfic #x reader #wanderer #baladeer

[ckret2]

You know, after seeing your evil Ford au, I wonder what would happen if evil! Ford, met cannon! Ford. I feel like Cannon! Ford would hate him because he's just an example of what would happen if he haven't learned his lesson on perfection and how it's impossible to reach and how he doesn't need to impress people to be happy. I wonder what evil! Ford would think of his original counter part..would he be a little regretful? Since his cannon counterpart got more happiness than him? It's honestly intriguing to think about.

That's actually part of why I made Evil Ford: I was thinking about a dimension of lost Fords (like the dimension of lost Mabels in Don't Dimension It) and asked myself, which Ford alternate would Canon Ford most hate to meet?

So yeah you're right, Canon Ford would HATE Evil Ford—but not for thematic "you haven't learned the moral lesson about perfection & family" reasons. That's how audiences think about characters, it's not how people think about other people. When's the last time you hated somebody in real life because they missed the point of their own narrative arc—rather than because, say, they're rude to cashiers?

No, the reason Canon Ford hates Evil Ford is much simpler.

Similarly, meeting Canon Ford wouldn't make Evil Ford feel regretful because Evil Ford still thinks he made the right decision. What does he care if Canon Ford is "happier" if he only found contentment by—what—giving up on his high ambitions and settling for being a washed-up burnt-out ex-academic with no memorable achievements to his name? Evil Ford would rather die as a miserable overachiever than live as a peaceful slacker.

And he didn't spend thirty years on a completely different life path from Canon Ford without developing a totally different perspective.

Note: when Canon Ford found out Bill lied about the portal and declared he'd stop Bill no matter what, Evil Ford thinks that's Ford betraying Bill, not the other way around.

Also note: Evil Ford thinks Canon Ford is only motivated by anger over being deceived—not concern for the safety of the whole planet. Like yeah sure, he's HEARD that excuse; but that's what he thinks it is: an excuse. If he'd decided not to forgive Bill, he probably would've used the same excuse himself. A convenient, heroic-sounding moral justification for a thirty year vengence quest—but he doesn't really care that much about who's running the Earth, why would his alternate self?

(And really, Canon Ford? Thirty years? Thirty years?? You never found anything more productive to do with all that time than stalk your former mentor because you're MAD about ONE LIE?? If Canon Ford had said he thought killing Bill would net him more interdimensional fame and praise than he'd ever have as his underling, then Evil Ford could understand THAT—he himself has had misgivings about the fact that he's signed up to spend all eternity playing second banana—but as it is, though...)

Also also note: Evil Ford never reconciled with Fiddleford because he never acknowledged Fidds was "right" about Bill. He spent two-thirds of his life estranged from his brother. He moved across the country from his family. He made no friends in Gravity Falls, and likely no other college friends than Fidds. But he spent over half his life working with, dreaming with, living with Bill Cipher.

Evil Ford is evil; but he's not heartless.

Bill's the muse that gave him the blueprints he needed for his greatest invention and for the culmination of his life's work as a scientist and explorer. Bill's a near-god who hailed Ford as the greatest genius of his century, the man who's going to change the world, and via divine weirdness intervention he personally made sure that prophecy come true. Bill's the guy who—after Ford's embarrassing failure of a portal accident—welcomed Ford into his gang with open arms and the assurance that all his hard work wouldn't be for naught. He's Ford's longest-lasting friendship, his partner in crime and in science and in just about everything else by now, the person he trusts to puppet his body.

Is that a very skewed perspective on Bill? God, yeah. But it's Evil Ford's perspective.

If someone told you that all your suffering is due to the one person you trust most in all the world and the one person outside your family you care about the most—someone you've known for over thirty years—and your life would be so much better if you'd ditched this person the very first time you didn't get along—and that ditching them would have been the moral action—and that, in fact, you should have dedicated your life to killing this person...

Would you regret your life? Would you envy the life of the man who told you all this?

Or would you despise him?

How much more would you despise him if you knew he was you—had lived the same life as you—and that he had killed the most important person in your world?

Oh, Evil Ford resents the hell out of Canon Ford. Who are you—you slacker, you betrayer—to say you're "happier" than your counterpart? How do you deserve that "happy" ending? How is that fair?

Evil Ford only has one regret: not locking up his entire family before Weirdmageddon, where they'd all be safe... and where Bill would be safe from them.

#stanford pines #grunkle ford #gravity falls #evil ford au #fanart #my art #(I made these pictures much tinier than i usually draw to ensure they'd actually upload lmao)