#so so so torn. because on one hand some of the best characters in the whole wide world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comradekatara · 18 days

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do you have a masterpost of "ty lee comes from crypto-air nomad" posts? I'm fascinated by this idea and want to read everything I can but I can't find where it started 😭

i feel like this is a question better posed to @kyoshi-lesbians, who, at least in my book, is the leading expert in ty lee studies (among other things). that said, i can definitely synthesize the argument (and why i find it cogent and persuasive), even if i don't actually know from where the theory originated (but i'm sure that if you look up "ty lee air nomad you'll immediately be directed to an old reddit page or fan forum from years ago; it's a "theory" that goes way back).

firstly, ty lee's appearance is distinctly "air nomadic" in a way no one else's is. save for aang, of course. she and aang do bear an uncanny resemblance. everyone else in the fire nation has yellowish brown eyes, for example, while ty lee, like aang, has charcoal greyish brown eyes. and they also have similar (round and cute) facial features, similar expressions, similar vibes. similar dispositions...

ty lee does not "have the personality" of a ruthless fire nation soldier, despite acting as the princess's right hand who takes out more opponents than pretty much everyone else put together. ty lee acts like an airbender, flirty and flighty. her relentless optimism and goodwill and cheer is decidedly a mask, but it is a mask she adopts adeptly. even if she is performing, she nonetheless performs the "aang" function of her respective group.

ty lee presents herself as more spiritually attuned than other people in the fire nation, who outright disrespect the spirits and spirituality. her constant talk of auras is likely a calculated move on her part, as nearly everything is, to make her seem silly and trivial, because she thrives best when she goes underestimated. but her talk of auras also has to come from somewhere, and seeing as literally no one else mentions auras once throughout the entire show, ty lee's sources are clearly scarce.

ty lee also fights like an airbender. despite generally taking the offensive, ty lee nonetheless exhibits a graceful, acrobatic quality when in combat. she never kills anyone either, merely incapacitates them momentarily. and when she is faced with stronger than typical opponents, she usually relies on her skills as an acrobat by taking the aerial advantage. note her ability to jump incredibly high, such as in "the chase," or her ability to run along a moving cable wire in "the boiling rock." ty lee's skills go beyond merely being a good acrobat. she's incredible. and perhaps even exhibiting some latent airbending skills she inherited from her ancestors.

ty lee's air nomad ancestry coheres really well with her arc as a character. imagining that her family of genocide survivors hid in the heart of the fire nation and assimilated into the imperialist culture that sought to exterminate them makes her own role that much more impactful. there's already a beautiful parallelism to the fact that ty lee is an acrobat and performer who contorts herself to suit the desires of others and performs obsequious loyalty for her own survival, but an extra layer of depth is added if she's also assimilating into the royal court by reducing herself and hiding her true feelings and motivations, just as her family did.

i see ty lee's ancestors as having assimilated into the imperial core out of fear, but over the generations, genuinely being subsumed into fire nation culture, with the desire to social climb a natural extension of their patriotism. but there are also still facets of ty lee's ancestry, whether genetic or otherwise, that have remained in traces. the generational trauma, for example, definitely reflects why her parents had so many children. and the fact that she's constantly torn between two worlds, as a genocide survivor who also directly serves the imperialists who murdered her ancestors, represents her internal struggle as someone who desires freedom of expression and the choice to assert her individuality, but is also forced through circumstance into lying and deflecting and manipulating (which, to be honest, is also the air nomad way) for the sake of survival.

surviving is ty lee's number one priority, in a way it just isn't for mai. mai and ty lee both come from social climbing families (although i've always assumed that mai's family is far wealthier than ty lee's) but mai is also depressed and frustrated and bored out of her mind. and even though she was raised in a family that forced her to don a mask and reduce herself and perform a passive model of femininity, she also has no problem stating aloud how she's feeling and what her limits are (with the exception of when azula gives her a veiled command as a test, and mai has no choice but to obey).

mai has the privilege of knowing that the stakes don't really matter, which she all but states when she claims that she grew up in luxury and opulence, and always had everything handed to her. which isn't to say that she led a perfect, easy life. she wouldn't be as depressed and repressed as she is if there weren't factors actively harming her, but she still chooses to join azula by choice, even if it's really only the illusion of choice between two awful options, whereas ty lee has to be coerced through violence.

mai kind of has a "fuck it we ball" attitude and doesn't really seem to care about her own safety (if anything, she's more concerned with comfort), whereas ty lee would do anything to ensure her survival. and that kind of mentality illustrates how she differs from most of the fire nation elites, who were inculcated into imperial privilege and never really considered what prioritizing survival even entails (zuko learns that lesson the hard way). ty really exhibits the mentality of the genocide victim/colonized subject through her prioritization of survival in the face of what to mai is a problem, but to ty lee is an existential threat.

whether or not ty lee even recognizes that her desperate desire to live comes from a place of generational grief and trauma is another story, but i do think there is something to be said for the fact that descendants of genocide survivors can feel that grief as it has been passed down to them. i think ty lee feels it, and i think that it motivates her to do whatever it takes to live, because above all, she is a survivor. and even if she has to assimilate and manipulate and cut away every part of herself that's real and authentic and true, she will do it (until she doesn't). and that's also, incidentally, what makes her such a great foil to aang.

#i hope this answers your question!#anachronornis #asks #analysis #ty lee #maixtylee #aang&tylee #aang #mai #air nomad ty lee #i should make that a tag....#also river if u have anything add please feel free #i love ty lee she is the specialest insane girl she is everything

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binniebakery · 2 months

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Your Biggest Fan!

Rockstar!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader, Strangers to ?? (fwb? teehee) Slightly Suggestive! ♡ Summary: Your best friend forces you to attend a local rock group’s concert. You weren’t expecting much until said group’s lead guitarist catches your eye with a wink and a smile, now he’s all you can think about. Little do you know you’ve caught his attention too. ♡ Warnings: smoking, some drinking, n cursing, the sexual tension go crazy, yeonjun is kinda mean, almost burns reader with a cig, this is not proofread! ♡ A/N: finally! After so long i post this lmaoo tbh i had the biggest writer’s block for this fic (I cringed while every second writing this so I very much hate it but o well!) but as promised this was going to be my next one!! moawajunnies please enjoy!!

“Ah, shit– I spilled my drink!” Your friend groaned and you looked from your phone to see part of her outfit drenched in beer. It’s a good thing she was wearing all black. “You alright?” you ask, joining her in assessing the damage.

“Yeah, just clumsy..” She then excuses herself to search for something to wipe the beverage off, mumbling a ‘just as the concert was about to start’ as she squeezes through the crowd. There was probably a low chance she’d make it back to your spot in the very front.

You turn back to the screen, watching the timer tick down. Three minutes left and the crowd was starting to get more impatient by the second, internally cringing at the way you were getting shoved up against the barricade.

God, this was not your type of event at all, not with the amount of smelly drunk attendees. You were only here because you were dragged.

Time went by surprisingly quick as your subway surfer’s gameplay was cut quickly to an end. Music began to roar across the small outside garage and you felt the bass pump through your veins.

A group of five males walk up on stage, the tallest member, their leader, smiling and waving as he approaches his spot, dimples on display as he held his large keyboard guitar.

The drummer, your best friend's favorite, had blonde hair curled perfectly against his handsome features. Tapping his drumsticks with a grin as the crowd roared his name. “Kai! Kai! Kai!”

The group’s bassist and lead guitarist walk in, jumping and showing off their skills with nimble fingers, causing the crowd to get louder and louder. The lead guitarist’s brown wolf cut bouncing as he smirked and waved, black-haired bassist motioning his hands for the crowd to scream louder.

The perfect combination of charisma and attitude for a rock band.

Lastly, the lead vocalist runs on stage, microphone headset attached to his head as he stops front in center. His eyeliner smeared in just the right way, his soft orange hair a bright contrast to his torn and tattered outfit. Immediately you could tell he was the main attraction as fans roared.

Though you can’t say you could disagree, this man had an aura, and it was becoming more intense the longer you stared at him.

Said male lifts his chin to the crowd, a confident smile as fans swooned. “How are we doin’ tonight!?” The place shook and you felt the air grow thicker with every second. You felt the need to join in, feeling the energy shoot through your veins. At this point thoughts of where your best friend was had completely left your mind.

“Let’s fucking go then! This one’s called ‘Growing Pain’!” He kicks and the notes begin to blare through the speakers.

To say these guys weren’t talented would be the biggest understatement in history. The presence they served was beyond comprehensible and although you had never listened to their music prior, you felt immediately entranced by their stage presence.

Their lead singer especially. He had the attitude of a true rockstar, grabbing his water bottle and splashing the water on himself and the crowd after taking his sip. You were completely lost in the character portrayed in front of you, and you had the perfect view too.

As the concert went on, you came to learn the lead singer’s name was Yeonjun, and this Yeonjun was definitely eye candy.

‘Dreamer’ was one of their slower songs, but the crowd seemed to adore it. The sensual combination of the boy’s voices mixing together and harmonizing to create a sexy and attractive atmosphere and you felt practically high on the sound.

You still couldn’t take your eyes off Yeonjun. The way his body moved and the way he always seemed to linger in your part of the stage didn’t help either.

“Let me break it down for you..” Yeonjun’s gaze lands onto yours and you hold eye contact. You feel your body buzz at the interaction. The singer bites his lip as the leader of the group sings his verse, Yeonjun’s eyes never shifting from your position.

Damn, he was good at his job.

The rest of the concert proceeds like that, you and Yeonjun exchanging stares and at one point he winks at you, mouthing a ‘call me’ as his hand waves. You immediately flush at the boldness. He knew how to really interact with his audience.

The concert ends and you finally meet up with your friend, flusteredly attempting to explain the interactions you received and she groans. “Fuck– lucky! I’m so mad I wasn’t able to get back to the front, but at least we both enjoyed the concert..” She smiles weakly and you pat her back. Suddenly you feel a large hand tap your shoulder.

Why the hell was the band’s lead singer standing behind you?

“Hey.” Yeonjun smiles and he tilts his shades upwards, as if you wouldn’t have recognized him. Were the shades supposed to be some sort of disguise? He was literally still wearing the same outfit as earlier, sweat droplets still falling down the sides of his face and you can’t believe the fact that nobody has noticed him yet.

“Oh! Uh– well I gotta go– see you later y/n!” Your friend coughs and runs off to her car. You watch her leave with a confused look. I mean, you two did come to the concert in your designated cars, but what the hell was that about?

You turn back to Yeonjun embarrassed. “Ah, sorry… how can I help?”

Really? The hottest member of the band is talking to you and you're asking him how you can help like he’s a customer at a grocery store?

Yeonjun chuckles and stares you down, tongue in cheek, and you shiver from the attention.

“I wanted to get a better look at you, pretty face was starin’ at me the whole concert.”

You laugh nervously and place your hands on your hips. You decided that you’d entertain him. “Well, how could I not? Your performance really caught my attention.” You prayed to whatever God was out there that Yeonjun couldn’t sense the way your entire body tensed from his gaze.

“Mine or my band’s?” He smirks and you feel a lump in your throat. You wanted to just pass out then and there.

“Y- yours of course..” You mumble, toying with the hem of your outfit. Since when did a man make you so nervous?

“Is that so..?” He steps closer to you and offers his hand. “You wanna grab a drink or a cig?” He tilts his head and you stare at him with wide eyes. You felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh.. sure…? What about your bandmates though?” You were really trying to remain unfazed by his forwardness.

“They'll be doing their own thing, let's go yeah?” Yeonjun gently grabs your wrist and is pulling you along with him, fully oblivious to the stares you were receiving from the concert’s remaining attendees.

Yeonjun takes you backstage, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping throughout your ears as he opened the door to his changing room.

The room was dimly lit, with a crappy light flickering every few minutes. Yeonjun’s clothes were tossed around, makeup vanity in disarray, and gifts and flowers from fans were neatly placed in the corner on a table. You hold your breath as Yeonjun closes the door behind him, lock clicking

You had no idea what was going on or how you even got in this situation, you had simply just attended this concert for the sake of your friend not wanting to come alone. Now here you were, backstage in the lead singer’s dressing room and you had no idea what he wanted with you.. but the burning feeling inside your stomach begged you to stay and your curiosity grew.

“Make yourself comfy, or just stand there, I won’t rush you.” Yeonjun laughs as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket. He lights it and holds it out to you.

He places the end towards your mouth and you inhale, Yeonjun licks his lips as he watches the way your mouth wraps around it. “Darling.. you really know how to tease a guy huh?”

You stare at each other as you exhale the smoke and the burning in your throat is nothing compared to the burning heat throughout your body. This man had an effect on you in the same way you were affecting him.

You take this opportunity to stare up at Yeonjuns face, his features even more handsome now that you were this close. You take in the way his damp hair sat perfectly on his face, the smell of sweat and his cologne radiating off of him. The choker he wore called your attention to his neck and the way his sweat had dried mostly but you could still make out where the droplets had sat. You swallow and your eyes find their way back to Yeonjun’s.

Yeonjun notices your tension and smirks. “Like what you see pretty girl?” God why was he so fucking attractive.

“Maybe I do.. Is there an issue with that?” You stare at Yeonjun and the look on your face is enough for him to know what you wanted. You really wanted to regain control of the situation, so you decided to tease him further. “Yeonjun, right?.. You sure you wanna be alone with me in this room right now?”

Yeonjun scoffs at your reply. “Why? You trynna be one of my girls tonight?” Yeonjun quirked an eyebrow at you with a smug look, casually leaning against the doorframe. Your breath hitched.

You bite your lip at the suggestion, what was this man playing at? “And what if I do?”

Oh, you were playing with fire.

“You sure you want this? You know how many girls would kill for your position right now?” Yeonjun queries as he carries himself over to you. It finally dawns on you that you both really were alone in his dressing room and that his body was too close to yours, completely leaving you trapped between him and the wall behind you.

You could feel the way Yeonjun’s body heat begged to intertwine with yours, you felt your muscles weaken under him as he placed an arm on each side of your face on the wall. The room felt smaller and the scent of the cigarette in his mouth lingers around you as his breath alone practically envelops your senses.

Honestly, at this point, it didn’t matter how many girls he’s been with, hell you could care less if he even contacted you after this. You wanted him.

“I know well what I’m getting into.” You confidently stare up into Yeonjun’s intense gaze, feeling the way his eyes are scanning every curve of your body.

“Alright tough girl, can you handle this though?” Yeonjun grabs your wrist and pulls the cigarette from his mouth with the other hand, placing it near your skin just enough so you feel the slight burn.

“Ah– ah! Yeonjun–!” You choke and he cackles at the way you weakly attempt to pull away. You stare up at him, eyes slightly watery but the way your legs feel like jelly from the way he's treating you makes you slightly crave more.

“Relax darlin’, I wouldn’t hurt a single hair on you.” Yeonjun drops the cigarette to the floor and crushes it with his boot, still holding your wrist tightly.

He pulls your wrist over your head and he finally pushes his body up to yours. You inhale into his shoulder and Yeonjun’s beaming from the way you just lean into him. He relished in the way you let him do what he wanted to you.

“Stay for me, will you? Kinda like the way you looked up at me from the crowd with that pretty face.” The biggest grin spreads across Yeonjun’s handsome face and of course, who were you to say no? You were more than willing to let this man break you.

After all, you were now his biggest fan.

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x y/n #txt x y/n #BakeryTreat♡

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mamayan · 10 months

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★彡SOFT YANDERE DABI SHORT DRABBLE☆彡

Soft Yandere Dabi x Darling!

Synopsis: You read something that disturbs you greatly, your heart aching and in need of comfort. Your captor is happy to clear up some misunderstandings. (I do not condone any book or author burning, it’s just for the story)

Warnings: Soft NSFW (smut), light yandere themes, cursing, pet names (doll, sweet girl, princess), afab reader, FLUFF, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of murder, Dabi is not a soft man even if he’s being soft

You didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted your own tears. The pages in your hands slowly blurring as you tried to rationalize with yourself. It’s just a story, fiction, not real. Though, try as you might, your empathetic heart aches with the thought of something so horrid ever happening to you. The main character in your novel, the adventurous and wonderful protagonist, meets a torturous end at the hands of the one they loved most.

Manipulated, used, abused, and left behind like trash.

The first hiccuped sob is a bit loud, as you quickly move to stifle the next. Why this was hitting you so deeply, you truly couldn’t fathom. Maybe it was the thought of him doing it to you. The man in question certainly capable and able of bad deeds like no other, but when it came to you he was always gentle. Even when he claimed he wasn’t, that he was going to be “rough” and “show you who was in charge”, they was empty threats followed by pleasure and loving hands thereafter.

It might be due to your attachment to the series, a different protagonist and antagonist in each book but all set in the same world and slowly intertwining as you near the end. This was the second to last book, but the ending has you struggling to pick up the next. It was just so sad, and the author depicted the emotional and physical pain so well.

You sniffled, putting the book on the night stand and getting up to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Dabi was gone on mission, and you weren’t sure when he would be back anyhow. It was best to put the TV on and find something to distract yourself.

Is what you thought, but just as you passed the front door, it unlocked and opened to reveal your tall captor dressed in casual street wear. A black torn up hoodie with a white t-shirt underneath, the hood up over his head and a black cotton mask hiding everything but his electric blue eyes. His black jeans with a spiked belt and combat boots were a little muddy, but it wasn’t too unusual since it was the rainy season. He held a plastic shopping bag in his right hand, and the house keys in the left. Both dropped to the ground though, and faster than really should be normal, your face was cradled in his hands as he looked down on you in a panic. Water dripped off his soaked clothing and onto you and the floor below.

“Hey doll, wanna tell me what’s wrong?” It was nearly threatening how he asked it. Especially with his mask covering up a lot of his expression, but you were familiar with the concern in his gaze, despite there being a hint of malice attached too.

“Oh, no it’s nothing important!” The embarrassment of having been caught crying over a story was enough torture, let alone explaining it aloud to a man who could very well laugh at you because of it. The thought of being ridiculed by Dabi left a sour taste in your mouth, and you were eager to change the subject.

“You’re all wet! Let me grab a towelー” When you tried to move away, his grip changed on your face. Instead of the gentle caress a moment ago, he now gripped your jaw and cheeks in one hand, and his atmosphere changed. Despite him being a flame quirk, the chills he could evoke were terrifying. “Try moving away again when I ask you a question, I don’t really feel like punishing you tonight, but if that’s what you want…” He trailed off, and you didn’t need to be told twice.

Maybe it was the tone of voice he used now, or the threat of punishment… even though they were never really punishments in your opinion, but the flood gates opened nonetheless. Your tears were thankfully enough for his irritation to evaporate back into concern, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close to lean on him. He smelled like rain and smoke, and a bit spicy. He’d likely been active, but the way he smelled was familiar and comforting. It was no longer a scent which evoked terror in you, instead you melted into his damp embrace.

“Okay, okay, how about this? You go start the shower. Set the temperature just how you like. I’ll be there to join you in a minute, yeah?” His raspy low voice turned soothing, a gentle hand cupping your cheek so he could press his forehead against your own. You felt a shiver run through you, the sick feeling in your gut lessening with his idea. He did always complain about your preferred shower temperature, and the teasing wasn’t lost on you as you sniffed and nodded. Blowing your nose also sounded like a good idea, snot probably on his hoodie already. He gave your head a quick kiss, pushing you in the direction of the bathroom as he moved to shut and lock the door behind him. You followed his order, padding across the floor and onto the tile of the bathroom, the chill traveling up your spine and setting you into motion.

The spray of water hitting your bare skin was uncomfortable at first. You really did just want to curl up in a ball and pretend this all wasn’t happening. You struggled to formulate a better plausible reason for you acting like this, but your mind kept coming up blank.

It was too late, as the bathroom door opened and Dabi entered. The clear glass door hid nothing from his eyes as he smirked and shamelessly watched you for a moment. His face mask was gone, along with his hoodie. He easily stripped off his shirt, his body on display this time for you as he slowly undid his belt. You liked when he did this, put on a show of sorts, even though when he’d first taken you, he hardly ever took his shirt off even when you were intimate. His crude attitude made him come off confident, if not overly, about his looks. You knew better now though, the insecurities his burns and scars carried. You always did your best to turn that around though, to tell and show him how much they amplified his charm and appeal to you. His gaze caught yours as he finally joined you, both of you naked and exposed but the water and tight space seemed to make it less vulnerable.

He wasted little time in grabbed your body wash and soaping you up. His touch teasing and light, riling despite his denial in doing so. Grazing your nipples so innocently, as if he truly is just interested in washing you. Only just barely applying pressure to your clit, and pretending like he hadn’t teased you until you were dripping. “I’m just trying to clean you up doll, and you’re getting off on it?” His tone was mocking, but you could care less as he dipped a finger and then another inside you. The ache in your chest lessened by a new ache in your belly. He’d barely pumped his fingers a few times in you, and you were already close.

“Dabiー”

“Shh… I know. Just come for me, don’t think about anything else. You can do that for me can’t you?” He was behind you, front flush with your back and his hard cock pressed between your ass. Your legs were shaking, arms hooked behind you to hang on as he began teasing your clit too.

It was too much. “Dabi please, I can’t!”

“You don’t really have a choice doll… don’t make me tell you againー fuck, good girl.” You were falling apart in seconds, your pussy drenching his hand and the tension in your belly snapping.

He washed you again, this time methodically. His touch was no longer arousing, more intent on massaging your muscles and loosening the rest of the tension you carried. Though his lips pressed against your own, and he whispered praises in your ear, nothing else took place.

He dried you off, dressed you in one of his shirts, and pushed you towards the bed.

“Now…” he looked serious, climbing onto the bed after you in only a pair of dark boxers. You leaned back, nervous as he took position over you, arms and legs caging you in. “Care to tell me what upset you?” His gaze was daring you to lie, and you were certainly tempted to do so, but you were already drained. He’d hardly been home for half an hour and was crumbling your defenses.

Dabi was nothing if not observant and meticulous when it came to you.

“Something sad happened to the protagonist in my book…” Your tongue dipped out to wet your lips, his eyes tracking every little twitch and movement you made like a predator waiting to strike.

He didn’t speak. His stony expression didn’t give way to the ridicule you expected either. His only indication for you to continue was a slight nod of his head. You chose to settle your stare on his collar bone, easier than meeting his intense gaze. “A-and it, um, it made me sad… I guess? It made me sort of… compare it to u-us. Like, if it happened to me…” Your eyes flicked briefly up to his own before back down again. The confession messy and hardly worth noting, at least in your own opinion.

He grunted, making you look back up as he cocks a brow down at you in his usual mildly condescending attitude. “You think I might do the bad thing that happened in your book to you?” His guess was a bullseye, and it didn’t make you feel good to even paint him in that light. You knew logically he’d never do something so atrocious to you, not if he meant how he felt for you.

But insecurities don’t listen or feed off logic.

He must’ve gotten some non-verbal confirmation from you, because in the next moment he was reaching over the bedside table and grabbing up the offending novel, setting it ablaze right before your eyes. The dust and ashes lightly decorating your torso as you gaped in shock. He grinned, looking pleased as he brushed the remnants of the pages off you. “I don’t read all the books I get you, no point and they don’t really interest me, but I do read their synopsis and spoilers. You think I’d let me friends fuck you?”

You felt the atmosphere getting dangerous as he looked downright feral. A warm hand on your chest pressing you flat on your back into the mattress.

“Think I’d sit back and watch while a bunch of deranged shit bags had their fill of you?” His tone was menacing, hissing out his visible disgust even as he spoke. “This is clearly my fault, isn’t it doll?” You weren’t sure how to answer him, but he laughed when you quickly shook your head. The rhetorical question seeming to lead nowhere good. “No, I think we need to have a revisit to an old lesson. Who you belong to, is me, and me alone, sweet girl.” His hand drags up your chest to your throat where his long fingers encircle it. He doesn’t squeeze hard, but he does place enough pressure for you to feel to dominance he’s displaying. “Have I been to nice with you? Is that why you don’t know the answer to what I’d do if anyone tried to even touch you?” You weren’t able to fully shake your head, so it forced to speak even though it came out strained.

“N-no… I-I’m sorry Dabiー” he cut your apology short by briefly cutting your oxygen.

“Nu-uh doll, we aren’t doing little apologies right now. We’re having open and honest dialogue here.” If he wasn’t currently choking you and pinning you to the bed, maybe you’d believe that. He released his tight grip, going back to gentle pressure as you gasped for air, panting.

“No, we’re going to have a test. If you get at least 80% correct, I’ll pass you. If you don’t however…” he trailed off, looking down at you with mock pity. It made you nervous and excited all at once, and he must’ve noticed the way you squeezed your thighs because he sat up on his knees now. His free hand pressing on your lower abdomen and moving down to your bare cunt under his shirt. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you doll?” You wanted to argue he was always teasing you, that was the true explanation behind your arousal, but it might end whatever was happening so you kept quiet. He trailed a finger up through your folds, your legs spreading wider in invitation for him to do more. He doesn’t though, just softly spreading your arousal over your clit before moving back down to do it again. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close to what you needed to send you over the edge. Your little whines and pleas would go ignored, Dabi loving edging just as much as he loved overstimulation. Either produced the reaction he truly adored, your body and mind unable to function without him.

“Now… question number oneーpay attention” he sent a sharp slap to your clit that had you jerking and crying out in his hold, “ーwhat is the fastest way to piss me off?” Your poor clit throbbed, but you swallowed and did your best to answer coherently.

“L-lie to you…?” Another slap to your clit had you whining as you dug your heels into the bed to push away from him to little avail. It was the wrong answer.

“Not what you do to piss me off, I mean in general, doll. What’s the quickest way for someone to burn?” He spoke so casually about murder, it barely registered as anything odd to you. You took a moment longer to think about it, and he kindly let you as he returned to teasing your slit.

You shivered, “To hurt me…” you whispered softly, but moaned loudly the next moment when he sank a finger into you. Your head leaned back as he began pumping into you at the perfect pace, curling up even as your hips lifted to meet him. “Good girl…” he murmured, but he was watching the way your tight cunt took his finger.

“Next question.” He chuckled at your whine, clearly you weren’t an eager student. “Who would kill everyone if anything happened to you?” Despite his horrendous words, you couldn’t fathom caring as you felt the coil tightening inside you. “Y-you would, oh there!” You moaned wantonly as he slipped another finger inside and curled them to rub at that perfect spot. The sound of him finger fucking you was erotic and distracting.

“Fuck you’re so wet, I think you like these lessons…” his expression was salacious, and you tightened around him seeing it. He licked his lips, and you knew he was nearing his own limit if the tent in his boxers was any indication.

“Question number three, would I ever fucking let someone else touch you, let alone share you?” You moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching, fingers clenching the sheets in a death grip as you struggled to speak. He was doing it on purpose. Just a little more andー

He slid his fingers out before you could come, “Please!” It was a useless and futile plea.

He laughed, looking so amused as the grip around your neck got tighter and he pushed you back into the mattress. “Answer me sweet girl, or you won’t come again tonight.” It wasn’t a threat, it was a warning, and you knew from experience to take it seriously. He’d edge you the entire night. “N-no! You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t!”

Your fervent answer must’ve satisfied him, or he’d reached his limit. It hardly mattered when his thick cock bumped your clit. The swollen and reddened tip so hot in comparison to the cool metal of his piercings. You couldn’t spread your legs any further, only able to arch your back and beg for him to just fuck you already. He used his hand still wet with your juices to pump his shaft a few times, groaning when he finally did sink his tip into you.

Then he slammed fully inside and had you wailing.

“Fuck yes!” He hissed, gritting his teeth in a savage grin. His free hand now anchored your hip down, as he began a brutal pace of possessiveness and ownership. He was claiming your cunt as he fit every inch of himself inside you. Bullying your poor cervix as his balls slapped against your ass. He knew how to angle his hips to grind into your clit as well in this position, and it had you seeing stars when you came so suddenly.

His rhythm faltered only momentarily when he realized you’d came so quickly, chuckling as his ego soared. “Oh yeah? You love my cock that fucking much, dirty princess?” He wasn’t kind as he fucked you right through your orgasm. He grunted, pulling out of you only to flip you on your stomach and yank your ass up to fill you again from behind. It was a whole new stretch and pressure that had you noisily crying out as he pressed your face into the mattress. His chest against your back and vicious thrusts were animalistic but also so intimate. It was grounding as all thoughts left you and you surrendered to just feeling.

He must’ve felt it too, as he leaned back and slowed down to a more manageable pace for you to breathe.

“Last question… who owns this pussy?” It had you shivering, as you quietly managed to choke out his name.

His hand came down on your ass now, both sides smacked painfully. It only made the pleasure intensify as you tightened around his cock, making him moan. “Louder!”

“Dabiー” two more hits landed on your ass, the burning sensation coupled with the perfect way he filled you up had you nearing another orgasm.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, “Am I just fucking you that good? You can’t fucking think now? Who owns this pussy!?” He was already spanking you again as you wailed out your answer.

“You! Dabi! Dabi owns my pussy!” He was fucking you again in earnest and it only threw you over the edge again as you came on his cock for the second time. Both hands on your hips to rip you back on his cock as he bounced you off. Your head was spinning as you babbled nonsense, unable to keep your chest up as your arms gave out. He was chasing his own finish now though, roughly fucking you down into the mattress as you finally felt him say your name lowly and his hot cum fill you up.

You stayed like that for a minute or so as you both worked to catch your breath. As always though, Dabi recovered quicker as he lazily slid out of your twitching cunt now dripping his white hot load out and onto the bed. He reached out to spread you wider, a closer view to watch it run out of you. Then he used one hand to catch it, this time pushing it back inside of you and causing you to whine at the contact to your sore cunt.

“Dabi…” his name on your lips hoarse.

“I know, doll. Tired?” He asked so sweetly while still fucking his come back inside you.

“Yes…” he only hummed, finally losing interest as he helped you onto your back and kissed your tear stained cheek.

“You feel better?” His eyes were gentle and face relaxed as he began drawing mindless patterns across your face with the tip of his thumb. The soothing action had you blinking tiredly. You only nodded, a soft smile on your lips as the earlier ache and worry disappeared.

You should’ve known better. This man was a lunatic and out of his mind, your fears were unfounded.

“Good. Go to sleep, I’ll clean you up.”

When you’d finally drifted off to sleep, Dabi cleaned himself up and got dressed.

He had an author to burn alongside the book after all.

#x reader #bnha #dabi #mdni #18+#18+ please #drabble #soft dabi #soft yandere dabi #yandere dabi #dark themes #please read my warnings #smut #dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader smut

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fallingdownhell · 6 months

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Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe finding out their sweet, gentle s/o has a delusion given to them by their father, who is a former Fatui harbinger?

Very interesting concept. I like it!

Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya; Zhongli; Childe

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship

Word count: 1k words

Have fun with this!

Diluc

given his history with Fatuis and delusions, he'd want you to get rid of it as soon as he finds out

and if you refused, than he'd still ask you to at least not use it. At all

he knows all to well the effects and sideeffects that using a delusion could bring and he does not want any of it to happen to you

he couldn't bear losing another loved person the same way like he lost his father all those years ago

He can acknowledge it's sentimental value to you, seeing as it was given to you by your father, but it's still a delusion

if you are unaware of its effects, Diluc would take it upon himself to inform you about everything, every little detail he knows about

and if he didn't tell you about his fathers death and the circumstances by then, he would definitely do so now

on one hand, it would serve as an example as to why not use the delusion and on the other hand, he hoped that you would better understand why he absolutely does not want you to use it

if you would absolutely insist on still using it, because it was a gift, he would not like the fact, but keep a close eye on you every time you do so, to make sure you were safe and nothing would happen to you

however, if you insist on using the delusion more and more, I feel like Diluc would have no choice but to leave you and this relationship, since he absolutely does not want to see you succumb to it

he will tell himself that he tried his best to protect you, but in the end, you're still your own human and can make decisions for yourself. And as much as he wouldn't like it, he would never force anything onto you, even if it means the end for you two like this

Kaeya

Kaeya also learned about Delusions and their effects through the events that happened with Crepus when he was still a teenager

he knows that delusions have a close tie with the Fatui

and while he thinks of them as dangerous, he does see the benefits that come with using them as well

so he's torn about it when he learns that you were gifted one from your father

on one hand, he views it as a tool that will allow you to keep yourself safe, since you don't handle a vision and don't belong to the knights of Favonius

on the other hand, he's concerned about the side effects that might befall you when using it excessively

So, the best thing he can think about, is to sit down with you and talk to you about everything. About his concerns, the potential benefits, his overall thoughts..

if you are unaware, he would lay out all the facts for you as well, so that you can decide for yourself how to best handle this situation

the best case outcome for him would be if you agreed to only using it in times of danger with no other way out. It would be the ideal solution

However, in the end, the choice is still up to you, and Kaeya will stick by your side no matter how you decide. He tells himself that he can deal with everything that might be thrown your and his way, so long as you don't leave him as well..

Zhongli

He's painfully aware of the existence of delusions

and while he does not fully understand how exactly they work, he knows that they are dangerous and should be handled with utmost caution

When he finds out that you're in posession of one, he would first ask you how you even got around to one, because that would mean that you had ties to the Fatui themselves

When you told him that your father had gifted it to you, he began to do some research about him and that's how he found out that you father was a former Harbinger

The next thing he would do was figuring out what you fathers intentions were when he gifted the delusion to you. Was he genuinely concerned about you and wanted you to be able to defend yourself if need be? Or did he have some form of hidden agenda in mind?

Overall, Zhongli would try to find out all information possible, trying to answer all his questions before he takes any action whatsoever

He would not be too happy if you decide to keep the deluison, mostly because of it's uncertain origins and effects, but he would also not act against you

Instead, he keeps to monitoring you, making it his duty to remember every little change that may or may not occur to you when using it

And should he notice any bad signs, he would take you to the doctors immediately, wanting to keep you safe as much as he possibly could

Childe

Being a Fatui himself - and a Harbinger at that - he knew exactly what the risks and benefits of using a delusion were

And he was also aware that it should be used sparingly, lest normal people like you want to suffer the same fate as those resistance soldiers in Inazuma did

He knew your father, Cholde had the utmost respect for him, but he would have never thought that the man would gift his own child a delusion, knowing all that he knew about it

He wanted to rip that thing out of your hands, throw it away and tell you to never even think about using something as dangerous as this

Then again, he would only come across as a hypocrite, seeing as he himself was using one, and rather openly and often at that

So that option was out the door right from the start

Instead, he tried to have an open talk with you where he explained everything about delusions to you, hoping that ot would set your mind in the right direction

In the end, the decision is up to you on wether or not you want to use it

But if you do decide on using it, Childe's only demand would be that he would be the one to teach you how to safely use it, so you wouldn't risk too much

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sunnysam-my · 15 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 2

I am a bit of fashion, especially men's, history nerd, and I'm also a bit of radio nerd, so here I go, biblically accurate Alastor.

ALASTOR:

Alastor was a radio host (a radio star?) who lived and died in Louisiana. He was shot during a hunting accident, in the head, somewhere in the 1933, during radio's golden era. He cares greatly about his image and always smiles to show no weaknesses. He hates modern technology and doesn't allow his face to be captured by video recording or non black and white camera. His is mixed-race Creole.

Nothing about Alastor design make sense and it pisses me off. Not only it doesn't fit the time, it also doesn't fit his character! Besides, he is too red. He disappears into the background, especially walls of the Hotel.

Alastor cares about his image greatly, yet his clothes are torn. He is supposed to be like Hannibal, yet he looks like an edgelord wannabe. It's awful. I learned nothing about him from his design, other than "he's and old-time radio deer guy", and that's really bad.

Fashion in 30s was inspired by Hollywood, and sport and movies celebrities.

Back and white fashion in this period wasn't that different, at least for men, as long as you weren't poor, but here are some photos of specifically black fashion in 30s. In general I recommend that website if you want to look more into the fashion of this period.

His hair is completely wrong. And it's also really ugly lol. For richer black men a shiny straightening hairstyle was the go to since 1920s. One such style was "the conk" where one would chemically straighten their hair. It left hair shiny, but the process was painful and expensive. It literally could burn your scalp.

Another popular style was the brush wave. It's creating narrow waves rolling on top of head with the sides cut short and smooth. This hairstyle is still present to this day, but nowadays it's done on the whole head.

Other than that, men just wore their hair naturally, but short.

There is no focus on trousers or vest in Alastor's outfit. (Which is wild considering zipper fly was introduced in the early 30s, but was got popular by the mid ’30s). This was time of experimenting a bit with vests. If you wanted to look fancy and/or formal, you would wear a vest. Pants were wide legged, had a high waist and a single pressed line down the center of the leg. Some trouser waistbands were unique in the 1930s, for example a Hollywood waistband trouser. It had an extra wide band with a double row of buttons. They fit very high, overlapping the ribs. they often had netal ring tabs on the sides to tighten the pant to the correct fit without the need for belts or suspenders.

Also, monocle? Really? …Really? Here you go, read this if you're curious. Lots of pictures of glasses included. Glasses stayed essentially the same in 30s as they were in 20s. They were "round with a center bridge in the early years and an upper bridge in the later years. Frames could be tortoiseshell, black plastic, or thin metal."

Moving on from fashion, because I could never shut up, microphones!

The most probabale one that everyone who is redesigning Al is drawing is a good old classic Carbon mic. It looks like a ring with a metal star and the microphone inside. It can be hand held or a staff.

But, if you wanna draw something different!

Other than Carbon mic there is also a Ribbon microphone (first row) and Moving Coil mic (second row). Unfortunately, they killed Alastor in the best part of the radio golden age, so the mics are still a bit ugly, not gonna lie.

How would I design him:

First things firsts, either he is mixed or he is white, because right now it just feels like a cheep excuse to have an "evil voodoo" character without getting too much backlash. Let's be honest, nobody thought he was a POC and that white face doesn't help. Again, just like I mentioned with Vel, when you're drawing a character with human like skin tone you have to be careful and think how it ties to their race.

Second - fashion. His outfit and hairstyle is a disaster. He has always tried to 'dress to impress', so obviously I would give him well maintained clothing and that 'high quality', formal style. I would give him the dark brown Hollywood trouser with buttons and dark crimson shirt, like dried blood almost. Under a coat or jacket he would have a brow vest, both the same colour as the pants. Highlights would be golden and green or purple. I for one would love to see him start out with a jacket/coat which he stops wearing inside the hotel after he bonds with the people inside it more, but he would still wear it outside and in the finale would put it on again, after his breakdown in the tower. This would show he began to trust the hotel residents a bit before he 'realises his mistake' after the battle. I would give him short haircut, because not even white people wore hair like that. (What in the Karen-core is it supposed to be?). Say goodbye to that monocle. Why is it even there there? Because he is old-timely? What is he, a children's cartoon villain? His design doesn't need more soulless clutter. Give me something that tells me about him as a character. I've seen people give him old radio as teeth or chest and I love it! When it's not too detailed, it's a great idea to make Alastor less like a living human but also less of… just a deer. He just looks like a deer demon. I would keep his shoes, hands and antlers, and give him ears that would fit the hairstyle I would go with.

[Edit: I forgot to mention, I would give him a time accurate hat or a free wavy lock of hair to cover the mark on his forehead where he was shot]

Thirdly, the microphone! My love. I remember the microphone used to be able to talk, but now it doesn't, unless I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure. Now it's just a weird look staff microphone with an eye and that's about it. But imagine something like a moving coil with the metal sign on top of it were the letters on it change. It could be a way it's communicating, in a simple way. This was it could still have a unique shape. That would have been fun to see. I can certainly imagine it being something of an 'unfiltered voice' of Alastor, where it would change it's writing into "Shut up", "Die" or something like that and he would hit it in a reprimanding way to reverse it to "Smile!". I'm just saying, that's a cool idea.

Well, this took forever to make, I actually forgot about this, so it just sat in my drafts. Anyway, if you want to see brilliant use of costumes and detailed, accurate depiction of fashion (especially black and queer) through history in New Orleans I recommend "Interview With The Vampire" (2022). It's also a great show.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel fanart #redesign #hazbin hotel criticism #hh #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #men's fashion #men's style #menswear #mensfashion #fashion #fashion history

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mxtxfanatic · 1 month

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Fandom Gripe #22: I wish the novel fandom would stop ascribing to Jiang Cheng things that he did not do (at least not alone) to make his character seem like some outstanding model citizen who pulled himself up by his bootstraps instead of the rotten product of wealth and nepotism that he is.

No, Jiang Cheng did not rebuild Lotus Pier on his own. In fact, Lotus Pier didn't need to be rebuilt at all because it was never destroyed. Wen Chao was using it as his supervision office, which is why Wang Lingjiao showed up in the first place:

Wang LingJiao spoke in a tender voice, “Young Master Wen, congratulations for moving into Lotus Pier.” Wen Chao, “What Lotus Pier? Change the name. Bring down any door carved with the nine-petaled lotus crest and replace them with those with the QishanWen Sect’s sun crest! JiaoJiao, come dance for me your best song!”

—Chapt. 59: Poisons, exr

If anything, any "rebuilding" that was done happened after Wei Wuxian defected, as Jiang Cheng remade Lotus Pier to be more extravagant than it originally was:

It was perhaps because too many places had been renewed. The training field was two times larger. Each new building seemed to be taller than the previous, adorned with curving roof decor. It seemed grander than before and had more splendor. But, compared to the Lotus Pier of his memories, it had changed too much. Wei WuXian felt a sense of loss from deep within. He didn’t know whether the old buildings from the past were blocked behind these impressive new buildings or if they were torn down already.

—Chapt. 85: Loyalty, exr

No, Jiang Cheng did not recruit new disciples on his own. He was recruiting on his own during the war for the 3 months that Wei Wuxian had been trapped in the Burial Mounds, as per Wang Lingjiao's musings:

...leaving only Jiang Cheng, who was younger than even Lan XiChen and was still a child born yesterday, who had nobody in his hands but still dared call himself sect leader, holding up the banner of rebellion as he recruited new disciples.

—Chapt. 60: Poisons, exr

But after Wei Wuxian returned, Wei Wuxian had a large hand in disciple recruitment, specifically because of the interest his ghost path garnered amongst cultivators at banquets where they were recruiting, such as the Phoenix Mountain Hunt:

One of the sect leaders spoke in a sour tone, “This time, Lotus Pier is really the center of the show. Almost all of the spirits and corpses were summoned to the YunmengJiang Sect’s grounds. There’d definitely be a number of cultivators interested in them.” ... Someone sneered, “Huh? Interested in them? I don’t think so. To put it simply, they’re interested in Wei WuXian, aren’t they? Didn’t the YunmengJiang Sect grow in fame during the Sunshot Campaign only because of Wei WuXian?”

—Chapt. 70: Departure, exr

Despite the above quote being gossip from jealous cultivators, we know this to be true because after Wei Wuxian defects, cultivators begin to flock to the Burial Mounds to ask to be his disciples, still:

After he found himself in the limelight during a few night-hunts, there really were quite a few people who came for him, hoping that they could be accepted by the ‘patriarch’ and become one of his disciples. The mountains that used to be so deserted suddenly became crowded. None of the fierce corpses Wei WuXian set up on patrol down the mountain would attack on their own. At most, they’d send the person flying and roar their throats out. Nobody got hurt, and so more and more people gathered down Burial Mound.

—Chapt. 75: Distance, exr

No, Jiang Cheng did not raise Jin Ling on his own. First off, Jin Ling is the heir to the Jin Clan, so him being raised wholly by Jiang Cheng would make absolutely no sense. Which is why nowhere does the novel say this happens; Jin Ling spends his time split between Lanling and Lotus Pier:

When Jin Ling was young, he was brought up by two sects. He lived at the LanlingJin Sect’s Jinlin Tower half the time, and the YunmengJiang Sect’s Lotus Pier the other half, so he should be carrying belongings from both sects.

—Chapt. 38: Grasses, exr

(However—and this is just my conjecture—I doubt the overtly homophobic and sexist Jiang Cheng would personally go about changing the diapers of a child who only knew him to be merciless and cold:

From the beginning of his memory until now, Jin Ling had never seen such a look on Jiang Cheng’s face before. This uncle of his who led the prominent YunmengJiang Sect ever since a young age had always been cold and dark. When he spoke, he was willing to neither show mercy nor do good.

—Chapt. 23: Malice, exr

Rich people have servants for a reason.)

No, Jiang Cheng does not spend his time helping the people of Yunmeng. He really does spend a good deal of his time fobbing off his duty to the people (not unusual for a large sect) in favor of hunting down and torturing people (very unusual, the reason why his citizens prefer to pray to gods) who either had the surname Wen or that he suspected of either being possessed by Wei Wuxian because they remind him of the latter, which extends to people who use his inventions:

Jiang Cheng spoke grimly, “Break his legs? Haven’t I told you? If you see this sort of evil and crooked practice, kill the cultivator and feed him to your dogs!”

—Chapt. 7: Arrogance, exr

Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive [Jiang Cheng] or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. After thinking it through, he made a gesture. The disciples understood his intention and came over.

—Chapt. 10: Arrogance, exr

The owner, “Young Masters, you’re not from Yunping City so you don’t know. The Jiang Sect is responsible for all of us along the Yunmeng area. The Sect Leader’s got quite a bad temper. It’s almost frightening. His subordinate’s said so a long time ago. Only one sect is in charge of such a large area. Each day, there are almost a hundred cases of small ghosts or other creatures pulling pranks on the living and all that. If every single small thing had to be dealt with immediately, would there be enough time and energy? Those that don’t kill anyone aren’t malign spirits, and we’re not supposed to disturb them with trivial matters that aren’t malign spirits.” She complained, “What is this supposed to mean? Wouldn’t it be too late if we waited until somebody’s died to find them?!” ... The owner continued, “On top of that, Lotus Pier is truly a scary place. How would anyone dare go there again?” Wei WuXian moved his gaze from Lan WangJi’s calm face with a short pause of surprise, “Lotus Pier is scary? How could Lotus Pier be scary? You’ve been there?” The owner, “I haven’t been there myself, but I know someone who went because his house was being badly haunted. But it was all bad luck. That Sect Leader Jiang was cracking a glowing whip right on the training field. The victim’s flesh and blood flew as high as his screams! A servant secretly informed him that the sect leader caught the wrong person again, that he hadn’t been in a great mood, and that he definitely shouldn’t be irritated in any way. He was so scared that he dropped off the gifts he brought and fled at once. He never dared visit again.” Wei WuXian had long since heard of how Jiang Cheng had been searching for cultivators of the ghost path who seemed like they seized another’s body, taking all of them into Lotus Pier to be tortured and questioned. The owner’s friend probably just happened to have ran into him when he was letting off steam. It wasn’t hard to imagine how hideous Jiang Cheng would’ve looked, so no wonder a normal person would make a run for it. ... The owner, “No, no. It was his misfortune. The person’s surname was Wen, and that Sect Leader Jiang’s archenemy happened to have the surname of Wen as well. He’s hating on everyone in this world whose surname is Wen. Whenever he sees one, he’d grind his teeth in hatred, wanting to skin them alive. How could he give a single friendly look to...”

—Chapt. 92: Longing, exr

The time he isn't spending hunting down people to torture, he uses to trail after Jin Ling on nighthunts to make sure nothing happens to him.

Wei WuXian, “Huh? Jiang Cheng? How did you run into him while night-hunting?” Lan SiZhui, “We invited Young Master Jin to join our night- hunt last time, so...” Wei WuXian immediately understood. One could even guess that while Lan SiZhui led the group in the night-hunt, Wen Ning naturally wouldn’t be idle either. He must’ve followed them in the dark to protect them, so that he could provide assistance when they encounter danger during the night-hunt. Jiang Cheng must’ve been sneaking behind Jin Ling as well, scared something would happen to him again.

—Chapt. 116: Banquet Extra, exr

Any other "single jiujiu!jc who don't need no man!" fanon I'm missing?

#human gripes at fandom #mdzs #feel free to add any quotes i forgot #but quite honestly some things are said too often #for it to make sense to add every quote #i'm not adding every 'jc tortures people' quote #i also gave up on every 'jc trails after jin ling' quote #because in the entire story the only time jin ling is not with jc #is when they get into an argument and jin ling runs away #for someone who is incapable of showing any sort of affection to his own nephew #jc is surprisingly a helicopter parent

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flokali · 2 years

Note

post!imposter au where everyone is soooo desperate for your forgiveness. honestly, seeing so many of the genshin impact characters get on their knees and beg and cry for you had a sick and twisted sense of pleasure coursing through your veins.

so imagine telling zhongli that you would give liyue another chance if he became your disposable little sex toy. and the geo archon is already hard beyond belief, many of his fantasies coming to life as you stepped on his hard-on without a trace of shame, harshly rubbing your shoe against it. he comes a fucking lot and you have to punish him somehow once his cum stains your bare skin. he doesn't even remember why he was there in the first place, he just wants you to ride him until his balls are empty or rail him until his hole basically takes the shape of your cock. slap his face, tell him how stupid he is for not being able to recognize you as the real creator as he sobs sorries pathetically under you, coming for the nth time that night.

and imagine how whiney venti would be once he finds out about this. you should be fucking him!! not that boring old man!! please!! and he can act like he's doing it *for the sake of mondstadt* all he likes but you and morax know better. especially when he's humping your leg like a crazed, air-headed dog. he'd honestly be so desperate for you- i mean, your forgiveness, that he'd basically do anything that you ask of him.

alternative idea: everyone recognized you as the creator the moment you arrived in teyvat and months later you started a new custom in which you put hand-picked characters in a giant room and order all the characters to put on a show with each other (imagine all the ships, hehe) until you can eventually choose the best amongst them and add them to your new list of toys.

Warnings: yandere themes, sagau, gn! and dom reader, smut, mentions of cum, sub! venti and zhongli, implications of past mistreatment, jealousy, ask to tag.

Literally speechless at how big brained this concept is, like it’s genuinely god sent. This isn’t particularly long but just know I’m going to think about this everyday until I die.

18+ UTC

Zhongli is immediately intrigued when he hears about a way for you to possibly forgive Liyue and its people, his heart still ached at the memories of your past treatment. He wondered how exactly it was he could possibly make it up to you, he’d be willing to do anything – he had told you so himself – but he never expected your request to be so lewd, nor did he realize how much he would like the sound of it either.

It’s uncharacteristic how fast he replies, even when it comes to you; a contract is a contract and he prides himself in always analyzing each and every single one he, himself, partakes in. Maybe, you tease, it’s because all the blood that normally circulated around his brain flowed straight down into his dick.

He had always been a bit shameful, some habits die hard; even the ones he’s had for thousands of years, even if it includes some from his younger and more, let’s say, aggressive youth. All this to say, Zhongli had always thought of what it’d be like to have sex with his beloved creator.

He doesn’t even remember how or when his clothes were torn off, the normally pristine suit he always wore was sullied with dust as he kneels in front of you, he can’t even remember when his hard on had grown so painful; all he knew was that your feet feel too good rubbing his cock. His face begins to twist into one of unrecognizable pleasure, his normally wise and pristine personality long since crushed under the intense bliss he was feeling in the moment.

It’s funny, you realize, how even when clothed you could feel the way he pulsated with every touch, his face was turning impossibly red as he let himself be toyed with, he couldn’t help the way his breathing began coming out as pathetic pants, you wondered if maybe this was something he’d always wanted; to become someone’s toy.

You doubted the shoes you were wearing were comfortable down there but he didn’t seem to mind as the wet patch in his pants grew in size and dampness, it was pitiful how easily worked up he was. Eventually, you let him take off his pants, which he does in a manner too sloppy to have come from a man such as Zhongli, and you son come face to face with his dick, and maybe it’s the sudden release from its confinement in Zhongli’s trousers, they always did appear to be quite tight, or maybe he had been close to shooting regardless, because soon enough you find splatters of cum in your skin. The pearly liquid is thick as you scoop it out from your arm and it’s not hard to look down at the archon with a questioning look.

You chuckle as you slowly remove your underwear and clothes; “Already coming, Mr Zhongli? I’m afraid you still have an awful lot to make up for…”

The news of your sexual randevouz with the Geo Archon travels quickly through the winds to the eager, and jealous, ears of Barbatos, the deity of Anemo. It’s as such that he immediately requests your presence in his humble region under the pretense of a much needed apology.

That is, until you arrive – soon enough he’s throwing himself at your feet, tears in his eyes as he begs for your forgiveness. Oh, how was he so blind? To hurt you was the last thing he’d ever dreamt of, he can’t even live with himself for what he and his people have done!

With faux tears, and an aching cock, he asks what could he ever do to receive your blessed forgiveness before bringing up what the wind had carried.

The minute you agree he’s back on his knees, desperately humping your clothed legs, he was so grateful for how revealing his Archon outfit was because it only took a few movements until his cock was free and he could excitedly rub himself against your skin.

“I-I just can’t-t believe you’d go to that – oh, ah! Fu~ck! – that old hag first! He’s s-suchgh… a brute with no brain…!”

Venti makes sure not to cum on you nor your clothes, completely and utterly focused on not commuting the heinous crimes his fellow archon had given way to. It’s incredibly hard to part his cock from your body but he makes sure to angle his cum in a way that will ensure your precious skin is clean.

“S-see? ‘M nothing like that- hmm?” You decide to just kiss and shut him up, “Ahh~ My lord, hah, if you wanted to kiss me s-so badly… you could’ve just said so… heh.”

He lets you unrobe him, in fact, he relishes in the way you undress his form; the intimate way you tug and pull at his clothes is so enchanting to him, he’s basically panting by the end.

“Oh no,” he moans, letting you push him on the marble table, “what will you do to me? Don’t tell me you’ll defile~ No! Don’t leave, please! I was just joking, your grace, you know I want you, I want you so bad… just, use my body~ Please?”

By the end of the night, his beautiful voice is but a mere whisper, his throat long since hoarse from screaming and moaning.

“Ha-ah!” Tears swell in his pretty, round eyes, “Ye-esh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou- hghhh…!”

Now, all you have to do is see if Ei will take your offer too.

#๋࣭ offerings #๋࣭. hidden devotee #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #yandere venti #yandere morax #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere #yandere au #sagau #yandere sagau #zhongli smut #venti smut #yandere harem #yandere male x reader #male yandere

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bowieandqueen11 · 8 months

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Luis Sera Having A Crush On You Would Include...

Request: I don't have anything specific to request but I totally 100% would die for some spicy Luis headcanons!!!

Ngl I would climb this man like a tree so I kind of expanded this into some cute and spicy ones as well, I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing these! ;)

This takes quite a long time to write, so if you enjoy, please leave a comment/ reblog, it really helps me!!

Warning: some spicy headcanons, some sexual allusions, mentions of guns, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of smoking, some light swearing!

(I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @stdismas.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

When you radioed Hunnigan to let her know you may drop off the map because you had been tied up, you had no idea that the words would become so literal.

Groggily waking up to a firm back pressed against your own and rapid unintelligible Spanish babbling in your ear wasn't what you first expected when you and Leon had touched down in Valdelobos for the mission, but after the morning you've had you're little surprised. As you feel around your wrists to try and find out if you've been bound or chained to the ceiling of this quaint little sub-room, you're pleasantly surprised that said annoyed person behind you hasn't thrown an axe at you yet. It was only when you pulled at steel chain and the man suddenly stopped talking with a 'woAH' to come flying into your face that events started to become a little more unusual.

'Good morning sleeping beauty, ha!' You finally have full view of the man whose swinging before you, the toes of his dusty boots barely touching the ground and the firm chest held behind his tight leather jacket swaying uneasily against your own. Whiskey coloured curls hide inquisitive eyes, and as soon as he realises you're conscious he abandons whatever futile attempts he was trying in tugging off his cuffs to instead grin fully at you. 'Can I give you a kiss now, and you'll turn me into a prince?' He wiggles his eyebrows at you, wetting his bottom lip with the edge of his tongue as his body bounces against you again.

You yank at the chain, doing your best to keep your face professional as the wheels bounce over the beam and the man comes knocking into your face, held up only by your upper arm strength and a leg you wrap courteously around his quads to keep him balanced. 'You're mixing up your fairy tales. You telling me you're a frog?' You let him drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud as you break free, and Luis has to pretend, with his ass handed to him on the cobbled floor, that as you walk past him he didn't enjoy every single second of that.

When you finally find Leon desperately sifting through your stolen belongings in the next room over, the relief immediately floods his eyes as he pulls you into a tight hug. When he sees Luis following you like a puppy from over your shoulder, though, you can hear him sigh against your shoulder. Said shoulder which soon had Luis' hand firmly pressed against it.

'He won't stop touching my shoulder', you groan to Leon.

'I know. He does that', he replies with a tighter squeeze.

Luis was incredibly good at making your next meeting seem like just happenstance.

It wasn't as if he had scoped you out for miles down the rocky tracks, his heart hammering in times to the bells that rang out from his old church. It wasn't as if he had 'borrowed' a pair of binoculars from his new found friend Ada, and had watched you bring down Del Lago with an embarrassingly loud cheer and punch of the air. It wasn't as if he had been sitting leisurely behind this boat house playing with his lighter for half an hour, brain torn between getting back to his lab, and his heart's plea to see you again.

You're less than astonished when the man jumps out at you with his arms out at his sight, immediately cocky when he spots your magnum raised up towards his face. 'Now now, my princess. If you shoot me now, then how will we ever transform this magical kingdom, ey?' You're even less surprised when he wraps an arm around your shoulder, murmuring into your ear about how he's going to be like some knight in shining armour as you holster your gun and let him lead you further off into the wilderness of the village.

He's constantly asking you questions, though, when the two of you brave a stop to take stock of your ammo reserves and to charter the maps Hunnigan sent over to you. Luis just perches next to you on a free boulder, gently rubbing his pointer finger and thumb over his jawline, and watching you with something akin to enthrallment rising through his weary face. Although he tries to make them sound flirty, you can see the seriousness in his usual light-hearted expressions, beginning to become aware of his subtleties: in the way his eyes crinkle for a moment when the words leave his lip, or the give away of his leather shifting as his fingers clench where they're crossed underneath his armpits.

You shake it off as you answer him honestly, not realising that this is the first time since he was a child that anyone had ever talked to him as him. Not as a runaway. Not as a profit. Not as a monster. Not as a threat. Not as a joke. Just as... Luis. Something tight clenched in his heart, and as he nodded along to your answer, he found himself beginning to flush at how nice it felt.

It becomes a running joke between the two of you that whenever a villager tries to hit you with a lit torch, he asks if you 'have a light?'

Speaking of, when the two of you end up by one of the rundown boathouses littering the lake side, he leans his leg back against one of the boards to light a smoke. With a confused tilt of his head, his eyes suddenly widen when you stop his hand from playing with his lighter, stealing the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you cup your hands around the knuckles of his larger ones and lower your head down to light the end of the cigarette.

He fidgets, a knowing look on his face as he tries to hide how turned on he's become, how incredibly tight his jeans suddenly seem to feel when you let go and take a drag. Before he can reach for your lips to steal it back, though, you throw the cigarette into the lake with a wink, leaving him feeling only all the more turned on.

But Luis is also incredibly protective of you!! When you're being surrounded by hordes of angry plagas villagers in a derelict cabin, the man is constantly jumping in your way with all guns ablazing. It starts to frustrate you how, without any formal training or without any bloody protective gear he keeps shielding you from pitchforks with only his pecs to protect him. He just laughs, pulling you behind him and throwing off your aim as he holds a shard of broken bookcase out in front of him like a lance. Whenever you climb the stairs to kick down some of the ladders on the second floor, Luis is hot on your heels like your own personal talkative shadow. Thankfully though, while you were busy trying to lift the bed and shove it back against the shards of a newly broken window, Luis was there to notice a villager's head splat open and tentacles sprout out of it right behind your back. With a cry, he pounces himself at them, narrowly avoiding you getting a lash to the face as he uses his weight to knock them off the balcony.

You repay him by sliding your leg forward and managing, just in time, to stop his arms waving and his staggering legs from falling over the edge as well by grabbing the collar of his jacket and hauling him back onto you.

'See senorita?', he asks between pants, the two of you collapsed down onto the floor with Luis lying between your legs. He lets his head leisurely loll down onto the joint at the top of your thigh, letting his open palm fall over your knee. 'Nothing to it!' You roll your eyes, but even he notices the relief flood through your uneasy body when he uses his free hand to reach up and touch your face. At first you jump, not expecting the warm buzzing feeling of his fingertips holding your chin, but you slowly relax as he tilts your head back and forth. There's an intensity in his eyes that you haven't seem from him before, as he swipes a bead of blood away from the cut on your lower lip without a second thought. A kind of fury, but also... a hint of guilt racking through his head as he makes sure you're alright.

You can bet your ass though that as soon as you heft him back up onto his feet, he refuses to go out the door. Instead, he hops up on top an antique wine barrel, and pouts his lips at you. He whines like a kicked puppy until you agree to fix up his wounds now, and to kiss them all better.

'Absolutely not', you say through a smile, coming to stand in between his legs. He goes uncharacteristically still when you reach up to cradle his face, an almost imperceptible huff of air hitching through his nostrils when you tilt his cheek further into your palm. He rests his head heavily, the corner of his lips twitching up as he rubs his stubble against your skin and tickles you. 'Cut it out or I'll be sewing your eyelid to your ass', you warn him, pointing a needle you managed to worm out of your side pack at his nose. He just smiles, watching you work as if you were made of pure starlight itself. As you finish off by crushing up some green herb, you can feel his thick thighs begin to move tighter against your legs, effectively trapping you against his hip.

'I-I'm going to need you to open your mouth', you state, trying your damn best to not give Luis the satisfaction of hearing your voice go hoarse.

'If that's what you've wanted me to do, mi amorcito, all you had to do was ask.' Although he cocks his head at you, he can't help but drop his eyes, desire burning through every electric inch of his body as he drops his bottom lip open. It feels like an eternity as you gingerly press the stalks of herb down onto the point of his tongue, not helped by the way Luis' irises are trained solely onto your own for every second. You don't mean to, but your pointer finger brushes against the plumpness of his lip as you pull away, and you turn your head away with a furious blush when Luis swipes at the spot, leaving a wet trail against it.

You turn to pack up and leave, but he suddenly stands up and grabs onto your arm tightly. He leans sideways until he's almost over you, his brow furrowed as he searches your eyes for an answer he's terrified to find. 'Hey, I won't leave you here, you know? I promise, I'm not going to leave again.'

'Why are you doing this?', you ask tensely. 'Why are you following me?'

He swallows thickly, weighing up whether to confess his truth to you or not. After a moment, he sighs, too afraid at what you might do. 'You are a guest! It would be rude not to take you on a tour of all the hotspots in the village.' Although you roll your eyes, you can't help the way you start to smile at his cheesiness. He begins chuckling too, but you don't notice the way the tips of his ears burn with a crimson flush as he spins his pistol and places it back into his holster, looking up at the ceiling uncertainly.

When it starts raining, he immediately offers you his jacket, quick to unzip it and place it over your head. That is, until you elbow him in the ribs once he asks for 'some of your clothing in return, of course ;)'.

Since you've grown to warily trust the man, you believe him when he leads you into a dank smelling cavern underneath some of the huts, telling you that he miraculously knows of a way to move underneath the monsters undetected. Which is how you found yourself climbing up a well in a densely shrouded area by an incredibly sticking looking altar, running away from a man wielding a chainsaw, and sitting on a very content looking Luis shoulders as you clambered into the musty attic of what used to be the village chief's manor. Flicking your torch through the gloom, you were surprised to step on a cracked frame. Picking it up, you were even more surprised when you ran your thumb over the grime to clear the image of a young boy sitting next to his grandfather. A young boy, who even at that age had such strikingly distinctive... familiar characteristics. A young boy who, as you placed the photo down on a cabinet and began to flick through the pages of a withered journal lying next to it, had been through such grief and horror that you were amazed he was so nonchalantly peering through the rafters next to it.

No, no. That wasn't it. He was good, you had to give him that. He must have spent a long time projecting this image. Perfecting this façade. Wrapping himself up so tightly in his fairy tales of knights and princesses and magical lands, that he almost believed it himself. Almost. But it seemed almost innate with you: the ability to notice his giveaways. To notice the real him. The way his shoulders were slightly hunched, as if guarding himself from bad memories: the way his eyes flitted just ever so minutely around the room, as if a cold grip of fear was squeezing at his lungs: the way, that in all the time you had been standing there watching him, he had noticed the photograph and now refused to look your way.

'You-', you start, not entirely sure what to say. 'This is you? You're from this village? You, you-'

He looks so desolate, so horrifyingly sad as he deflates onto the edge of a desk that you can't even finish the sentence, let alone get to the accusations of his work with Umbrella. Instead, your eyes sweep over the last page of the diary, feeling your heart breaking at the loneliness and confusion this poor man must have felt for so long.

'You were trying to help', you finally murmur out through clenched teeth. 'You are trying to help', you soften, turning your body to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 'That's why you're following me.'

'I might have been', he shrugs, but even that motion seems to take all the energy out of him. He feels different now, more clear, more truthful as he folds his hands out in front of his lap. 'Maybe, at the start. But it's not just that. I'm a selfish man, senorita. Look!'

He throws an arm out towards the window with a faux smile, pointing an accusatory finger at the lingering hoards of torch wielding villagers that are stumbling through the fallen cast iron gates. 'See how well I did at saving them! No, no.' He rubs the bridge of his nose, before glancing crestfallen at the picture frame behind your arm. 'I'm no hero. I'm selfish. I decided a long while ago, mi amor, that I enjoyed your company far too much. If I can't save my village, I'm going to be selfish enough to save you.'

His eyes drop, and his nose sniffs, and you do the only thing your mind can piece together at that moment. You walk forward, and with a tentative face you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him. It takes him a moment to realise that you're not rightfully furious with him, before he lets his head droop down into the curve of your shoulder. You don't say a word when you feel his arms shake, sliding around your ribcage until his hands are clenched fists in the back of your shirt. He's so tall he's almost smothering you, but you don't care a jot. Instead, you just stay a moment in your perfect isolation, allowing the man in front of you the comfort and vulnerability to break.

You thought that was as bad as you would ever see him, but this man gets SERIOUSLY worried when he realises that you've been infected with las plagas too?? He curses himself with an incredibly frantic and incredibly rude string of Spanish curse words, realising it must have been around the same time Leon was infected, and you've been struggling with the pain of it alone this whole time. He goes into Serious Scientist Mode and does his best not to freak out when, in a flash, you've gone from idle chatting to flashing a boot knife at his throat. His adams apple bobs against the serrated edge of the blade as he slowly reaches his hand out to reassuringly squeeze your shoulder once again.

'It's alright, you do what you have to do. I told you, I'm not leaving you again, si?'

Your face crumbles in agonising pain as the black tendrils begin to flood away from your eyes to be replaced by blinking tears, mustering the strength to fling the knife until it sticks firmly into frame of a painting. You fall to the floor, writhing in pain, and it takes all of Luis' strength not to cry out as he falls down beside you like there are firecrackers nipping at his heels. He legit carries you bridle style out the door and onto one of those velvet cushioned chairs in the castle's corridor. He stoops down next to you, and you finally come around to his warm thumb rubbing just under your bottom lash line as he checks the white of your eyes for any lingering signs of infection.

His fingers are incredibly gentle as he unfurls your other intertwined hand to check the pulse on your wrist. The wrinkles on his forehead are so shoved together that he almost looks like he's folded in on himself, and you can barely make out the slight shake of his fingertips as he steadily counts with bated breath. He lets out a whistle of relief through his front teeth once he's reassured, falling backwards onto the gilded frame of the staircase's banister and stretching his legs out in front of him in blissful solace.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you whisper a pained 'hey handsome', gripping your side and stretching out your neck as you sit up fully. He doesn't even speak, his eyes wide and terrified as he flies forward and pulls you into a desperate hug, so tight against his chest you feel like you might pop if his biceps pulse any more. He seems almost sheepish when he pulls back, until you pull him down by the lapel of his jacket to kiss his cheek and whisper a 'thanks for not leaving me' into the shell of his ear. Like a lightning strike, like life breathed back into his lungs, he's grinning like his old self. The lovestruck dope. You really have wrapped around your pinkie finger.

Him screaming WHEEE and climbing onto your head the whole time you're in the cart mine lmao.

When you guys reach the garden maze, he just can't keep his feelings in any longer. He doesn't quite know if it was you nearly being mauled by the dogs that reminded him of his grandfather, and all he's lost, or if it's just the thought of him not getting you to his lab in time that makes all the frustration and love and pure adrenaline fear slam against his ribs. Before you can even wipe the blood off your forehead, peering around the next corner to see if you can catch sight of an end to these stupid ass hedges, Luis struts forward and cages you in his arms. He's kissing you so fervently, effectively pinning you between his groin, lower legs, and the bristles of the bush behind you that you nearly fall through with the intensity of it.

This man is definitely the type to nearly knock you on your ass though tbf because he's thrusting up against you, so desperate for you.

Smug bastard is smirking the whole time, until he feels your nails scratch lightly against the stubble by the pulse point on his neck. He winces, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the empty air at your side that you think you've hurt him, until the bastard starts groaning.

Without even realising it, Luis has shoved you down onto the grass, breaking your fall by landing you on top of his arm. He crawls between you like a ravenous tiger until he's hovering over your face. He bites at the side of your neck, leaving a few wet marks as his tongue eagerly glides across your skin as your hand desperately reaches up onto the stone side of the fountain. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly on your stomach ravishes you, only for your grasping hand to be met with his own heavily landing on top of it, interlinking quickly with your fingers. He growls as he pulls at the bottom of your thighs, raising your lower body further up towards him whilst also pulling your raised legs around the bottom of his back.

His other hand is aflame as it holds tight against the side of your pelvis, effectively holding you in place as he grinds against you, teeth nipping at your top lip as he kisses you like the world might end around him at any moment. His breath pants against your tongue, hand wandering like smooth butter down the sides of your hip, making sure you experience every inch of pleasure that's been pent up over the last few days. Making sure, with each swirl of his tongue against your own, that you finally realise how much he adores every inch of you. Ensuring, as he pulls you down by the hips to rest against the belt buckle of his jeans, that you're safe in the knowledge that he's never felt this in love: this safe, this devoted, so like himself again with anyone else.

Thankfully you're there to look out for each through thick and thin, and even more thankfully you're there to stop him being attacked and grievously wounded by Krauser. He swears, as the two of you finally come running hand in hand into his lab, and he holds onto your fingers with a grip tight and sweaty enough to bend metal, that he's going to make the most of this chance at redemption he's been given. He's going to be your knight in shining armour, for as long as he may live.

#resident evil #luis sera #luis sera imagine #luis sera x reader #luis sera headcanons #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy #resident evil headcanons #re 4 #re 4 imagine #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #luis resident evil #luis re #luis resident evil imagine #re4 #re4 remake

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biscuitbox23 · 4 months

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“I’m alright on the other side, what about you?”

Summary: After your death, Daryl starts to lose his mind. He hallucinates about you in the woods, taunting him. well, that's what he thinks.

Author’s Note: I had to admit, I almost cried while proofreading this, not because the story is sad but because of the amount of grammar mistakes (I have a love/hate relationship with Grammarly).

warnings: mentions of character death, violence, typically angst shit.

Word count: 1.1k

Daryl's heart ached with a fierce longing for you. He spent countless nights consumed by anger and bargaining with fate, but nothing could ease the pain of your absence. The emptiness he felt inside was all-encompassing, and he knew that only you could have offered him any measure of solace.

He kept blaming himself for it every day despite your recklessness. You were torn at the hip by a walker and had to go through the hell of letting the blood flow and allowing the horde of walkers to rip through your body. Daryl tried his best to keep you alive.

He walked through the woods, away from the prison for now. It was quiet, other than the occasional squeaks of squirrels and rustles of the wind. Your death was recent, and it had an enormous impact on him. You were the type of person who feared death, so you did what you could to survive. You didn't want to give up because you were scared. He acted like a knight saving a fallen princess. It was ill-fated from the start.

You had met Daryl and his brother at the beginning of the camp when the situation was unfolding. Despite Daryl's rude attitude and his brother's questionable behavior, you always checked in on them. Making sure they were doing well. However, as the world around them crumbled, things started to change. Daryl's brother disappeared, and now you were gone too. For Daryl, his world had crumbled beneath his feet, leaving him lost in a sea of chaos and despair. Even so, you were always there for him, always willing to offer a helping hand or a kind word. You even helped him find Sophia, not because you wanted anything in return, but simply because it was the right thing to do.

But there was a saying, 'If you're a good person, you die out there.'

You were good enough to try and get him a way to escape on one run. The only thing is, you had no other way out. The best you could do was look at him with a deep sigh. The look on your face still haunts his dreams.

You left with acceptance. You didn't beg for your life at that point. It was just a sigh of acceptance, knowing there would be no way out. Back in camp, when things went wrong, you were like a scared little mouse that Daryl had to save your ass almost all the time. And it was okay for him.

"Still sulking over me?" You chuckled smugly.

Daryl felt himself jolt up from the ground. Your voice echoes through the woods. as if you were still there, sharing a cigarette with him like it always was. He enjoyed your company, and he needed it more now.

"Y/n?" Daryl breathed out.

"Hey, Dare," You puffed out smoke from your lungs as you leaned on a tree, "Guess you get a little jumpy now, huh?" The cigarette hung between your middle and pointer finger, tapping the small paper-wrapped intoxicant with your thumb to let some ash out. The ash trickled down like snow to the ground.

Daryl doesn't respond, just watching you look around at the trees as you lean back to the tree. Your eyes met him, a big grin forming on your face.

"Come on, you used to talk to me a lot. What's bothering you?" You looked at him with a chilled-out smile.

"Nothin' just missed you..." Daryl said, his voice hoarse and husky.

"I missed you too, Dare," You chuckled, "at least you were the last person I saw when I died..." You shrugged sheepishly. Your tone was casual, almost as if you weren't terrified anymore.

"Don't..." Daryl sighed deeply, "Don't remind me... please."

"Well, you gotta live with it," You scoffed, now on a tree trunk, taking a sip of a beer. Every time Daryl looked away, you started moving from one place to another, "live to fight another day, Daryl."

"You're the one who killed yourself to save me," Daryl spat as you looked over at him lazily.

"I didn't kill myself, Daryl. I sacrificed myself," You smiled, sitting on a log now. You held onto a leaf, examining the intricacy of nature. Your clothes changed too. You wore an orange-shaded striped sweater and jorts, like when he first saw you.

"No, you didn't. You killed yourself. You do not even know how long I have left," Daryl shook his head, feeling himself starting to lose it a little.

"Don't say that," you rolled your eyes.

"I have every right to. You were stupid to do that and sacrifice yourself for me," Daryl sighed deeply.

"I had no choice. There was nowhere to run," you said sheepishly.

"It could've been me in there, don't you think?" Daryl spat his tone with rage and anger.

"No, but you can protect yourself," you shrugged as if you weren't bothered. "I can't, but you got Judith's formula, didn't you?"

There was an eerie, long pause.

"It's okay, Daryl," your tone became gentler, more reassuring, "you can't save everyone, and that's okay."

You went over to him and hugged him from behind. He refused to look at you, knowing that once he looks at you, all he sees is his imagination. Despite his desperation to forgive himself and the longing for acceptance of your death, his mind can't help but think of you.

"I liked the way you cook squirrel," you smiled softly, hugging him tighter, "It tastes nice..."

Bringing up the small memory made Daryl feel his heart sink.

"you're not real, are you?" He asked as he looked at your arms wrapped around his waist. His hand reaches to your fingers, feeling your soft, cold flesh. Similar to when somebody dies in the hospital, their body becomes frigid as ice.

"I am," you console him, resting your cheek on his broad back and the leather bracing half of your face, "I'm living on the other side, Daryl."

"Is it nice there?" Daryl asks quietly, feeling his eyes tear up. He took a small halt but continued, "The other side?"

"Yeah, it's nice..." You nodded, "I'm alright on the other side. What about you?"

"I guess it's alright, too," Daryl's smile formed on his lips.

Knowing that you're happy somewhere brought him ease. It gave him a chance to move on calmly. That was when he opened his eyes, finally seeing you nowhere in the woods. A hallucination in which Daryl managed to move on. Walking back to the prison to finally let go of the burden of you.

———————————————————————

tag list:@richardsamboramylove55

A/n: Hello everyone! Yes I have brought you another tear jerker (i think). I have to admit I wasn’t really attracted to Daryl Dixon when I first saw him I started shipping him with Carol 😭 but anyways, I watched the Judas music video and OML he is so fine. Thank you lady Gaga for giving me the motivation to write about him ❤️

#twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x female reader #angst with a happy ending #angst #norman reedus #the walking dead universe #BiscuitWrites #twd oneshot

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maliciousalice · 22 days

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@thresholdbb omg tumblr ate your ask but thankyou for asking!!!!

👕Character whose fashion you like.

Phoar! Startrek really isn't a show I associate with being fashionable. It's very camp isn't it? In theory a lot of the wardrobe is really cool and they wanted to gain that retro-future aesthetic. Did it work? I'm not sure. However it does make a statement. The Startrek aesthetic is really recognizable and that's important! I think that's where modern trek kind of looses the plot. It's not as careful about the unique visual design as a whole anymore and as a result it doesn't settle in our minds. Is it bad artistry? No but it's not as stringent. What I mean by that is older trek cared about nuance. For example every haircut was done the same way on men, or suits were tailored in a way to look sleek but practical (they weren't). Gaudy patterns were important to denote things like status. It looks ugly on the outside but when you're watching the show it envelops you and makes you feel welcomed into the universe.

I digress.

To answer this, the most fashionable character, hands down, is Quark! That mfer always looks good, and has the finest drip in the galaxy. Love that.

🥲 ST moment that makes you cry.

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There are two moments that make me particularly sad. Kate's acting in the climax of Resistance is incredible. I read somewhere she had a special-wink-wink- relationship with the Director in the early seasons and she was being tested by this episode in some regard. I think it paid off. I treasure any time her captain-hood is removed, and the extreme vulnerability of Janeway is on display-MWAH MWAH poignant. This episode is beautifully intimate, particularly this scene. It's overall gorgeous and unique in how she whispers to him, as if there is nothing more important than to secure his peace of mind as he dies, and it's heart rending when it ends with her just crouching there, emotionally alone. I love how Janeway is forced into the father-daughter dynamic between her and Caylem, one that she would ordinarily resist (heh themes) because I think it inherently weakens her status. The back and forth throughout the episode of them taking care of each other's welfare is so it's terribly sad when it's torn down and we discover the truth behind Caylem's family. If you've dug around her character you know that her Admiral-Father has had impact on her life. She's haunted by him in both a figurative way by being a Captain, and literal sense later on in Coda. Much like Caylem, she looses her father in a violent manner that she has to carry around while she forges ahead. It also reflects well on Kate's relationship with her actual father, she recently revealed that she was never able to get him on her page, but in spite that she adore him with all her might. So a scene like this is really revealing-I believe she was able to draw upon those feelings and that's kinda neat to be so raw as an actor. SIGH.

This one just straight up made me cry fr because Prodigy s1 is a really mature, well done piece of (Startrek) media. Holo Janeway has an irony about it where in the end she is program designed to be a teacher, and she didn't expect to develop a strong bond with the crew. Her final moments are of displaying a huge amount of selflessness and courage to help the kids get out of trouble, similarly to how Janeway would approach dire circumstances. The music swelling and the ship activating is just OOOOF!!! I love how it parallels Dal's initiation of the first Protojump in a Moral Star. By that means It suggests how proud she is to get to do this for them. As a character she is really interesting to think about, in a way I can't entirely articulate. A lot of her moments are quite sad in general, she has to keep an active role so she isn't ignored, and help where help is needed, but at the same time she has constraints, one being that she manipulated by the antagonists. And In contrast to that, the kids do their best to help her feel like she is important and more than a command program to be used insincerely. She grew to love the Protostar crew, that's evident in her body language in this scene. She has a lot of depth overall. Equal to the real Janeway she deeply feels love, guilt and pain, but importantly she is transformed by the her time on the Protostar and while active, learns and grows with Dal, Rok-tak, Zero, Jankom and Gwyn. It's REALLY sweet that they care all care about each other.

I love her and I love JANEWAY!!!!

🥹 Favourite behind the scenes picture.

Ooooh I love all behind the scenes stuff. My brother in Christ It's super difficult to just name one thing and I'm very greedy!! I wish we had more BTS content for Voyager but sadly, it's a matter of grab what you can, however you can. Anyway, I have an inherent interest in seeing the cogs behind the wheel. I chose these samples because I think they're charming.

The continuity polaroid's are so fun and a lost technique, I like to think about assistants having to pull the actors aside and asking them to take those. How daunting! Kate's grin in the one where she is offset is SO cute. So she must have been in a good mood, super Cheeky!

Following that is a screenshot from a video of her having her makeup done. A rare catch. I like this because she often sooks about how much time hair and makeup was spent on her to become Captain Janeway. I get it's a huge time-sink, but love or hate it, the full irony is that her early season appearance is really iconic and in it's own right adds to Captain Janeway's sensibility. Silly goose Kate! Besides that, she looks hot checking herself out, haha.

Moreover, I love on-set editorial photos of actors in costume. While we did have heaps of them in the Starfleet uniform, I wish we had a larger collection with clearer releases, it would have given an opportunity to see in things of interest better detail. Particularly the lower half of unique costumes. For whatever reason special outfits weren't often established or framed for us to see the legs in the show, so a nice big photograph would have solved that. Also I love that these style of pictures capture an impression of an episode without giving it away.

Similarly, fly on the wall on-set photos are cool. They're way more intimate and candid than anything else and it makes me feel as though I am spying on the actors, but they're also a good way to document how things might have been on set.

The Timeless one is interesting too because it's of a deleted scene, we never see Chakotay look at a dead Janeway (how deliciously macabre!), but at some point in time it was in the script and they filmed it.

Hmm this bts picture of Janeway in the Cardigan is adorable! I believe it was worn by Kate for a Charity but look how cute she looks? Makes me wish we saw her mess around with things like that more because 7 Years is a long ass time to be in uniform everyday ( coming from someone who went to school in a Uniform and enjoyed it for the most part). Casual Fridays anyone?

I love this gif. It's from the first shoots of Caretaker and Kate looks so radiant! Her smile is is breathtaking! Whenever I see this gif I get a sense of delight. Poor thing had no idea what she was getting herself into, haha. Really though, check out the original Caretaker photos, they're super-cool. The history behind it is fascinating; I'd love to see more footage from that version of the pilot episode. Unfortunately, it's probably not preserved well, much like lots of Paramount's historical material.

On a similar trend, it's fun to see this set of pictures too. It's for the First Contact film / maybe the Universal studios ride, when she reprised her role as Vice AdmiralJaneway. Kate was genuinely delighted to do this cameo and it shows. As per her operandum she put her whole self into this small segment and that's so darling. It makes me wish we had more of this Janeway at that point in time. I love post Endgame chubby-Janeway. In a fictional sense it denotes that she is comfortable or stressed to be an Admiral (sadly it's the latter in real life) or whatever and I love that for her.

These kind of pictures are fun because it's been said that at times it was the most playful set to be on. There are tales that the cast were not that serious all the time. You get that impression here, and it's probably why the majority of them are still good friends to this day. They're like a family bros!!! Having worked in media I know that wrapping up after working on something for a long time is really rewarding and I bet they had a good time at parties.

Apropos previous, the opposite can be said. While they had fun, the hours were long and the scripts intensive. Kate was around for all of the episodes of Voyager in one way or another, and still managed to bring her A-game each time. She is truly admirable! Seeing her so exhausted is charming. She had a lot of weight to carry for the franchise and did an exemplary job performing her way through 7 years of weird and wonderful material. I wonder how often they fell asleep on set? I know I would. Get some rest queen!

Finally, I've been following Prodigy bts as best I can, and because of my career in animation I get pretty interested in Production art. I love seeing the fast metamorphosis of a visual style. It's really impressive how much attention they applied to the designs, maintaining the older stuff, while adapting a new frontier. One of the lead artists made some pretty neat observations to get Kate's appearance right. It's so cool that they documented that journey, because from my dabbling I know she has a very beautiful, distinct face that isn't easy to capture.

ANYWAY Thankyou for reading my fat thesis fellas. tl;dr i love this stinky Startrek Voyager and by extension the franchise.

#I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS WALL OF TEXT I HAVE A LOT TO SAY AND I THINK ABOUT THIS DARN SHOW A LOT #also my bad it's mostly voyager but it's my true love #hope you can make sense of this I'm fairly illiterate and writing is so hard for me lol that's why i write more than is probably necessary #i like the other trek shows but this one is something special if you know what i mean #appreciate you if you read all this MWAH MWAH #thankyou for the ask thresholdbb ily!!!#Thresholdbb #Kathryn Janeway #janeway #star trek voyager #star trek prodigy #st:voy #kate mulgrew #no sources for this you just gotta trust im a big fat expert :^)#i really need an editor my dyslexic-a jumbles up and forgets words when i write its so embarassing #i have a pretty large collection of pictures now but i could always use more #i also should probably save videos where i can because they get buried / removed from the internet

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createserenity · 5 months

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Is there any love in heaven?

I’ve been thinking about writing about this for a while, because it’s a major point in the characters of both Aziraphale and Crowley – although this is mostly about Crowley because it relates to something else I'm writing. It’s also all my opinion, I totally understand why other people have a different opinion and a different reading of things that happen in GO, so please don’t be offended by any of this. I'm prepared for the fact that I might be totally wrong, and that's okay too.

Anyway, is it possible that Crowley feels horribly about his fall because he has been torn from the grace and love of heaven and the Almighty? Well, anything’s possible. But also…

What love?

Look at these angels.

Are you seriously suggesting to me that they in any way feel loved? They haven’t got the first clue about love. They don’t feel it. They don’t experience it. They don’t know what it is. The Almighty does not love them.

Angels in GO were created to be servants of the Almighty. They are there to do her will and make sure the Great Plan is carried out. They aren’t her children. She isn’t coddling them like a parent or even loving them as equals or friends. She treats them as servants, or at best as members of her political party.

How do we know they don’t understand love?

We know from season two that the angels have no idea how human romantic love works. Aziraphale has to explain the concept as “what humans do” and Michael et al clearly have no context for this piece of information. They don’t even understand that “miracles don’t work like that” (even Crowley doesn’t appear to know this interestingly). Later on Crowley is able to trick Muriel, and then by extension Michael and Uriel, into believing human love works in a certain way (“you can only tell if people are in love by waiting a few days because humans are weird and that’s how it works”). So it’s fairly obvious that there is no concept of romantic love in heaven.

So this is all very well, but of course, the Almighty wouldn’t have romantic love for the angels, so it could be plausible they wouldn’t understand that but would still understand other types of love. Except…

The archangels, and even Muriel, see nothing wrong with depriving Job and Sitis of their children. They literally don’t understand the bonds of any sort of love that might exist between two beings.

Aziraphale understands because he has been on earth and has seen first-hand the way in which humans form bonds of love. He knows of the love between two humans and between a parent and child. When he tries to explain this to the archangels all he can come up with is “I think they quite like the old ones”. If there was some parallel to be drawn between any sort of love the Almighty might bestow on the angels then he would absolutely have used that to help explain what Job was going to feel at the loss of his children, but he doesn’t, because the parallel doesn’t exist – the angels know nothing of love.

But Aziraphale recognises love when he feels it in Tadfield?

Sure. He’s been on earth a long time. He knows what love is and as a being of goodness it seems he can sense very strong good emotions. He loves things himself in many different ways (books, food, Crowley, humans) and recognises that what he feels for them is love in different forms. He’s learnt what love is through being on earth.

Also just because the Almighty isn’t bestowing her love on her angels doesn’t mean that she made them without the capacity for love. (Even Gabriel clearly has the capacity to love.) It’s possible she wanted them to worship her, or at least be obedient to her, and that in the early days this obedience was not intended to be the obedience of fear, but the obedience of gratitude and perhaps respect or obligation.

In fact the word that would best describe this would be devotion. The angels were supposed to be devoted to the Almighty and to her Great Plan. They were supposed to be devoted to their purpose, unquestioning and obedient. Devotion is not the same as love, especially when it only goes one way, and of course when a relationship only goes one way the relationship either fades away entirely or becomes twisted over time.

Could this be a new thing?

Is it possible that when they were first created the Almighty did love her angelic creations? Well possibly. I’m sure she was pleased with them. I’m sure at first they were delightful to her. None of this is the same as suffusing them with her love.

When Aziraphale and angel-who becomes-Crowley meet in S2E1 we see them both as they were before the fall happened. Do either of them seem like they are basking in the love of an Almighty being? Not to me they don’t. Aziraphale is his usual lovely self, but he’s already nervous and knows that you can get into trouble, even in this pre-earth era. Crowley appears to have been completely absorbed by his star building project and barely paying attention to the Almighty or what she’s doing. Again, they are servants who have been given orders, or members of a political party who are out working in their constituencies, following the general party line, but mostly just getting on with their jobs. Aziraphale also knows they risk getting fired or punished if they invoke displeasure in their superiors – he’s not a being who is confident in the protection and safety of some divine love.

Also if the angels had once had the love of the Almighty and then lost it you’d think they might mention it at some point? Certainly Aziraphale might mention or hint or act in some way like that had happened. But he doesn’t, because it very likely hasn’t. Also when he thinks he’s fallen after lying to Gabriel about Job’s children if he had some sense of love from the Almighty he would know in this moment that he had not lost that love and that he was not fallen. And note here that he says, “I’m a fallen angel!” because he thinks he’s already fallen. He’s not expecting the fall to happen when Crowley arrives, nor when he actually steps into hell itself, he thinks it’s already a done deal and that it happened the moment he lied. There’s no way he wouldn’t know that falling involved losing the love and grace of the Almighty if it did in fact involve that – it would be a point widely advertised and feared in heaven, it would be something used to keep the angels in line. But it isn’t, because it doesn’t happen. There’s no love to lose.

What does this mean for Crowley’s fall?

Well for a start it means he isn’t carrying around some hang up over having been divinely loved and then having this ripped away from him. At most he is feeling rejected by his employer or his political party leader, which I’m not saying isn’t something that would cause him to be hurt or upset, but it’s certainly less significant than losing something that equates to the human concept of motherly or divine love.

Also to me for all that Crowley says, “I didn’t mean to fall” and “all I did was ask questions,” he clearly chose to do so – he chose to keep asking, even knowing the consequences. He picked a side in the war and must have at least in part known what picking that side meant. He knew he wasn’t siding with the Almighty and he did so of his own free will. Choice is a major theme in Good Omens – Crowley made a choice between two sides and picked the one that he saw as the better option at the time (not the perfect option, he doesn’t much like hell either, but I think he liked that they weren’t pretending to be something they’re not). He repeatedly makes it clear throughout the series that he does not regret this choice. He doesn’t want to go back. He thinks heavens rules and actions are ridiculous. Yes he’d love to get the chance to ask the Almighty a few questions, but only because he wants to know what the fuck they were thinking with this whole ridiculous plan.

When he “prays” to the Almighty it’s not really praying, it’s not a sign of faith, he’s just lamenting at a person he knows exists that he thinks is doing stupid things. He’s basically putting in a complaint to head office, though he knows the CEO isn’t actually going to be replying. He never asks her for anything, he simply asks questions, gives his opinion and makes suggestions. “Show me a Great Plan” – there’s nothing great about this plan, what are you playing at? Show me a better one. “You said you were going to be testing them, but you shouldn’t test them to destruction” – I remember you said you were going to do this, but it completely sucks, it’s rubbish, you’re doing the wrong thing yet again in my opinion.

What Crowley regrets and hates is that any of them were forced to choose sides in the first place. We see this most clearly after he thinks he’s lost Aziraphale in the bookshop fire. He knows where Aziraphale has gone – to heaven – the one place he can’t follow, and it’s then that he laments, “I didn’t mean to fall.” Except he did mean to (he’s an unreliable narrator about the whole thing). What this is is the point at which he regrets falling because he realises that the choice he made so long ago has now separated him forever from the one being he actually cares about. Crowley’s default reaction when something goes wrong is to say he didn’t mean it to happen. It’s ironic that a demon who thinks everyone should get a choice denies his own informed choices at every turn, but then Crowley also believes in second chances for everyone. (Look how many chances he gives Aziraphale, then there’s Elspeth and even Job’s children, who, Jemimah excepted, are self-centred brats – they all deserve a second chance at life according to Crowley). He didn’t get one himself and I think that’s what he’s really upset about. I picked my side but there shouldn’t be sides at all and I shouldn’t have fallen because I should have been given another chance.

Any other points?

Yes, a completely contradictory one that goes back to the idea of the withdrawal of love being a new thing where all angels once were loved and this has been withdrawn from them all. I’ve given this some extra consideration partly because whilst there definitely doesn’t seem to be a concept of the fall being traumatic in the original book it’s not totally beyond the realms of possibility that Neil might be retrofitting the story and might play that angle a little in the last series and I wanted to think about how that might go. Since there doesn’t seem to be any love in heaven now I can’t imagine any scenario where this isn’t an all or nothing loss of love.

I’m just going restate right here that for the reasons I mentioned earlier I’m dubious about it ever becoming a thing – pre-fall Aziraphale and Crowley do not seem to be basking in heavenly love, but for the sake of this argument let’s imagine for a second that they are. Let’s imagine the Almighty created the angels and surrounded them with her divine love and grace.

Maybe after the war in heaven the Almighty is so hurt by the rebellion of some of her angels (because nothing can hurt you like the slight of someone you love deeply) that she withdraws her love entirely from all of them. Maybe that’s why the archangels are so bitter and twisted – they were the most loved, they have lost the most. Perhaps all angels are all living under this shadow of having been loved once upon a time but having had that love withdrawn. Maybe that’s why the angels stick so rigidly to the party line – perhaps in a way they are all traumatised. If we can just be good enough, if we can be perfect enough, if we can get the plan exactly right, maybe we will earn back the love of the Almighty.

If that’s the scenario then that’s the greatest tragedy of them all.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley #heaven #angels #love #the fall

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mybworlds · 4 months

Text

CHAPTER 3

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Masterlist

Before to start... thank you for your support and please remember English is not my first language.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You don't go to work. You said you were dizzy. And in a way it is true: yesterday turned out to be anything but boring.

You stay in bed for a while staring at the ceiling, then you decide to start writing a new story on the computer. Not quite sure where to start, the paper on the computer remains blank.

You make a cup of coffee and sip it, thinking that if you actually started writing about yourself, you would probably write that this is the trivial story of a young woman.

You shake your head.

Your gaze falls on the forest green jacket Joel had lent you last night.

You take it in your hands and then bring it close to your nose and inhale deeply.

You're not even sure why you're doing this.

It's a strong smell, it smells like a mix of woods and liquor. You like it.

You, who never liked penetrating scents, find yourself thinking that Joel Miller's may be a good exception.

At that moment, a paper slips from a pocket of his jacket.

You shouldn't pry into other people's business, but curiosity gets the best of you.

You grab the paper, which you discover is a photograph folded in half; it's old, torned and faded. You look at the two subjects in the picture and immediately realize that the man is Joel, he's so young, his hair slightly thicker and curlier, he has a huge smile that makes you smile too, and then you observe he's holding a child of about four or five years old, she has thick dark curly hair too and she's smiling too.

Is this his daughter?

It looks like it, otherwise why would he be holding her? Or why would he keep this picture?

You stare at the picture for a few more moments, then fold it up suddenly feeling like an intruder.

You hide the jacket in a leather-colored backpack that in turn was hiding at the bottom of your bedroom closet.

When your mother returns the next day, she starts again with the usual string of questions. The usual routine created between the two of you.

"How was your guitar lesson?" she asks, adding this question to the many others.

"Fine." you lie. You didn't strum anything, you met your teacher's brother who has a very peculiar character, and on the same day you met a boy named Jack whom you promised to see again.

"And you don't tell me anything about it?" she asks again.

You tell in broad strokes that he taught you how to play some new chords, another lie, and that the next lesson will be tomorrow.

You tell nothing about yesterday's events. You already know she wouldn't understand and especially if she knew about your teacher, Tommy Miller, who left town, she wouldn't let you out again.

"In a hurry to get back to your bubble?" that provocative question from the other Miller echoes in you.

Maybe you can pretend to go to the Miller's and instead go to Jack's, you think, you're much more eager to see him than you ever thought you would be.

"You've been distracted lately. You got somethin' to say to me?" your mother asks again, noticing your blank expression.

"No." you reply, shaking your head and smiling at her pretending everything is as usual.

Part of you knows that it's wrong to lie to your parent, but when that parent is your mother well maybe it's okay.

The next morning, you have an unfamiliar heartbeat. You're not sure why.

Maybe because you have to pretend to go to your music class? What are you going to do?

Will you go up and then what?

Will you backtrack and go to Jack's?

Joel might not be there or if he was still in the house, you couldn't run away this time like you did two days before.

You found yourself filled with doubt, but you can't tell anyone the thruth.

You are in a strange situation, but it intrigues you because it's very different from the many ordinary situations about your life.

It's five o'clock and your mother leaves you outside the building, she makes sure you enter in and then leaves.

You breathe deeply adjusting the leather-colored backpack on your shoulders and climb in.

Your mother asked why the backpack was there, and you explained - lying - that Mr. Miller asked you to write chords as an "assignment" for the next class. Strangely, she didn't object; she just nod.

You are on the landing on the top floor, about to approach, when the door of the Miller house opens and Joel appears.

He's closing the door, and you watch him in silence. He's wearing tight dark jeans and a dark windbreaker.

You don't know what to do or what to say.

When he turns around, you find your eyes meeting, and you feel the same sensation as two days before: you feel naked.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, looking at your face.

"Um..." you can't found excuses, then you remember about the jacket hidden in your backpack "I brought your jacket back." you say slipping your backpack off you, setting it on the ground and pulling out his jacket.

"You didn't have to, babygirl," he replies with a small smile.

You return it without making eye contact. That pet name you don't know whether it irritates you more or makes you uncomfortable.

You don't know why you react like that, two days before you were so swaggering, today his mere glance is enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

He reaches out, grabbing your jacket, but doing so he places his hands on yours forcing you to look up, and you, as if you had taken the current, retract your hands and the jacket falls to the feet of both of you.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks you in a quiet tone.

You are about to open your mouth and say yes, but then you reconsider and find yourself shaking your head and whispering a timid no.

"Really? From the way you ran away the other day I'd say yes." he says looking at you with those big dark eyes of his, you find yourself shaking your head unable to utter a word as if prey to a mysterious spell.

"Use your words, baby doll, I won't bite," he adds again.

"I don't - I'm not afraid of you." you say, but your tone of voice betrays you.

He nods and then picks up his jacket from the floor. Fortunately, he doesn't add anything else.

"I guess you came for your guitar lesson," he continues, looking you in the eye.

You nod, not sure what turn this other afternoon will take.

"Fine. If you want from today I'll be your teacher." he says still looking you in the eyes to watch your every smallest reaction.

He, Joel Miller, your teacher?

Why does this suddenly intrigue you?

"I don't--" you are about to say, but it's him once again who interrupts the disjointed stream of thoughts that cross your mind "I promise, I won't bite."

He smiles at you and you find yourself smiling back at him.

Life is strange. Until two days ago you would never have believed that you knew a man like Joel and that he could be prickly, ironic and sweet at the same time.

"All right, bad wolf," you say, reminding him about the nickname he used for himself at the sight of you startled by his presence.

"Good." he says with a half smile on his face "Now come with me." he adds passing you and making to go down the stairs.

"But why don't we...?" you ask confusedly following him with your gaze.

"Come with me." he urges and you follow him a couple of steps away.

You step outside the building, he holds the door for you to leave and you step out. You turn the corner and see him open his SUV "Where are we going?" you ask him cautious.

"To my house. You still want to take guitar lessons, right?"

You nod.

"So, get in," he adds, inviting you to get in the car.

You look toward the bar, as if Jack is there. He might not be on duty, he might be in the backroom, he might be busy, but you look anyway and hope that-even if fleetingly-he sees you.

"Romeo's not here," he warns you piquantly as he gets into the car.

"What do you know?" you ask him as you get in and close the door.

He starts the car and immediately the radio turns on and a song plays, you ignore it's author; it's not a recent song, the tempo is somber and slow, the singer seems to have been disappointed by something that happened in the past, you swallow and look up into his face.

Is it possible that a man like him, on the surface so confident, is actually very sad?

He looks at your face too, it's a moment and then you decide to look away.

His eyes almost seem to want to read you inside, and you don't know if you want someone, him, to.

"So you didn't answer me," you say as you look toward the street and see that you're pulling away from the block where you went until that day with your mother to attend class with Tommy.

"His car is not there," he replies to you turning right with the SUV.

"And how do you know what his is car? What are you doing spying on others?" you ask puzzled.

"No." he says "I just have a passion for cars, I remember all the cars and some license plates of some people's vehicles."

"The unwanted ones." you add, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He looks at you and smiles mockingly and then shakes his head and looks ahead.

"Is your house far away?" you ask him, changing the subject completely.

"It's a couple of blocks away," he replies looking ahead at you.

"What am I going to do with my mother, what do I tell her?" you ask aloud, but it's a thought more than a real question.

"How long does class usually last?" he asks you.

"Two hours." you answer, looking back at him.

He nods, "Well, we'll be out there in a couple of hours. Don't worry." he tells you.

You breathe heavily.

"Why were you at Tommy's house two days ago?" you ask him curiously.

"He asked me to warn his student that classes are over," he replies to you without looking away from the road.

You wrinkle your forehead, "But if classes are over, then why did you propose to be my teacher?" you ask him sincerely curious and puzzled.

"Because I thought you wanted to continue taking classes. Am I wrong?"

You swallow. You never really cared about the guitar, you only ever did it to please your mother and then to escape her.

"Are you afraid I might hurt you?" he asks, stopping in front of a two-story house and looking into your face.

"As far as I know, you could be anyone," you reply before pondering.

"You're right." he agrees "Well, how about this, if you feel more comfortable we can be on the porch, but then mommy might see you." he continues "What would you choose?"

You caged yourself with your own words and paranoia probably.

"All right. Let's go inside." you reply as you roll your eyes and get out of the SUV.

He switches off the car and gets out, walks past you and up to the front door with stained glass windows to the sides and opens it.

"Please, come in." he says, inviting you to follow him.

When you enter his house, you immediately notice the wooden floor, the ruined walls and ceiling, the decorations, the rural decorations, some landscape paintings. Just inside the front door, there is a console table with a lamp, a brush, a handmade ashtray and a magazine, you then see a table with a potted plant and two animal carvings. Next to the table there is a coat rack. On the opposite wall a coat rack and a shelf on which there are more carved animals.

You see the living room from a distance, notice the sofa, an armchair and a coffee table, two large bookcases, a widescreen television, and then in the center of the room on the wall the fireplace.

On the opposite side an open plan kitchen with a small island.

It's a big home and it's really big for a man only.

"Are you ... um, married?" you ask him not knowing exactly what to say.

He glances at you for a brief moment blankly "No." he replies "Go ahead and take off your jacket, honey." he adds and then walks past you and places his green jacket - the one he lent you - on the coat rack a short distance from the two of you and into the kitchen.

You obey and hang it next to his jacket, following him a short distance without taking your eyes off him.

You see him moving nimbly around the kitchen, see him intent on turning on the coffee maker and putting a cup under the dispenser.

"Would you like a glass of water?" he asks bringing you back to reality "So maybe you can start breathing normally again." he adds.

"I'm breathing normally!" you exclaim caught red-handed.

He looks at you raising an eyebrow "Sure, and I played with Bob Dylan!"

You look away from his face and look around.

"I told you, I won't bite." he repeats trying to reassure you "So, would you like a glass of water?"

"N - no." you reply, shaking your head.

He turns his back on you as the coffee comes out of the dispenser "Tell me, exactly what did you and Tommy do?"

"What do you mean?" you ask blushing.

He looks at you and noticing your reaction, he smiles vigorously "What did he teach you until two days ago? Chords, notes, compositions, what?" he asks you.

You try to relax, realizing that you are stiff, completely stiff in the middle of the room and gave a ridiculous answer "Um...he taught me how to use the pick, the notes on the sheet music and the first four chords." you answer him trying to remember exactly the things Tommy taught you.

"The pick?!" he snorts, shaking his head.

"No good?" you ask him puzzled.

"Yes, but I prefer to use my fingers," he replies, looking at your face.

You immediately look away, catching an almost obvious malice in his tone and words.

"Did he make you use your own guitar or...?"

"His own," you answer immediately.

"And how long have you been taking lessons with him?" he asks you, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning against the kitchen cabinet.

"One year. Although, before the guitar, he taught me how to play the piano." he nods "He was better at explaining to me how to play the piano." you add though it is an irrelevant information.

"I see." he says and then drinks his coffee "Shall we begin?"

The lesson - your first lesson together - takes place in the living room, on his dark leather couch, he uses his guitar, it's beautiful, you are struck by the skill with which he caresses the strings of the instrument, he's delicate, he's firm, you are enchanted. You didn't think that a person like him could play an instrument and know how to cause you chills. He makes you rehearse the chords he has just played and you see him on the bias nod slowly, then finish with a good girl. You swallow.

No one has ever called you that.

Gina - one of your best friends - always says that guys use it when they want to fuck you or intend to show a particular interest in that way.

But Gina is unreliable; she's one of those who always thinks about sex.

Maybe that doesn't apply to Joel. Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he asks noticing your blank stare.

"Yes." you nod.

"Keep going." he says.

He makes you try other simple chords, corrects you where necessary, watches you, watches your hands touch the strings. He smiles nodding most of the time, other times he makes you get up and stands behind you squeezing between the guitar and his massive body to show you how to hold the guitar correctly or which strings to pluck if you make a mistake.

Feeling his warmth and presence shock you perhaps more than it should.

"Are you okay?" he asks you again.

"Yes. Yes, yes," you reply, nodding vigorously and swallowing.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks you.

"N - no." you reply, but your tone of voice betrays you.

"All right. That's enough for today." he announces.

You look up at the overhead clock, which reads 6:15, still forty-five minutes to go.

Your heart is pounding in your chest for no reason. He picks up the guitar and places it in its case and zippers it back up.

"I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable," he says looking at your face again.

"No, you don't make me uncomfortable."

Lie.

He nods, but you're sure he doesn't believe you.

"You have a beautiful home." you say looking around.

He smiles nodding and looking your way.

"Do you light that one?" you ask him pointing to the fireplace.

He smiles, "Every now and then. Indeed, I have to take a look at the chimney tomorrow." he replies.

"Do you take care of that?" you ask him curiously.

"Yes." he replies, smiling.

"What exactly do you take care of?"

"I work as a contractor," he replies.

"What about the guitar?"

He smiles, it's a different smile though, "That ... was born out of love. I mean, my partner at the time loved the Creedence Clearwater Revival and so to win her over, I learned how to play guitar and some of their compositions." you nod "You don't have a clue who they are, do you?" you shake your head, he smiles "Anyway, it worked and so that's why I know how to play guitar." he adds hastily.

"So, you're a self-taught player."

He nods.

"That's admirable." you comment looking at him impressed.

"And why do you play?" he asks.

"My mother." you answer with a sigh by sitting back down on the couch "She wants me to do good things my father did." you add.

"I see." he says reaching over and sitting down next to you.

He is close, but not close enough to touch or brush against you.

"Is it just you and her?"

You nod "Yes, and believe me she is enough for both parents."

He smiles "Don't you miss your father?"

No one had ever really asked you, no one perhaps really cared.

"When I was little, maybe. Today, no. My mother is suffocating for two." you answer him, rolling your eyes and smiling at him.

"Why do you do everything she tells you? I mean, how old are you? Twenty, twenty-five?" he asks you again.

"Twenty-nine." you reply, "I know, don't say anything. I'm a hopeless case. I should be free, able to move on my own, I tried, but in the end my mother always found a way to cage me."

"And you never have the wish to fly away? To be free?" he asks you without adding mocking words.

You look at him, "Yes. I wish that more than anything else, but then I think my mother basically does it to protect me. She's afraid, I think."

"And about what? Afraid to lose you?" he asks.

"Don't know. I think she was strongly disappointed in my father's behavior. She never wanted to tell me in detail what happened, but I know that he did something serious and that he left and then came back and then left again and never came back. Since then she has been like that. She controls every aspect of my life, what I say, what I do, who I hang out with, what I write, where I work. Everything." you don't really know why you are telling him all these things about your life, you just know that he listens to you and he's genuinely interested in what you are saying.

"What's your dream, baby?" he asks you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear in a tone that is gentle and a far cry from the sing-songy tones of the previous days or a few minutes before.

You widen your eyes as you feel your heart pounding, no one has ever used this pet name or moved a strand of hair behind your ear. You decide to answer so as not to make it worse, "Um, writing. Romance novels." you find yourself smiling and shaking your head.

"Sounds good." he says.

"Yeah, well ... you know, I had enrolled in a writing class a couple of years ago and the guy who was teaching the class had given us the assignment to write something. I did it and my mother freaked out. The reason? I had signed up without her permission and I was writing junk."

You put your head down, still remembering the gesture she made, took the computer you paid for with your work money and threw it on the floor, yelling at you that you should never do such a thing again and that writing would never help you in the real world.

"I'm sorry, honey. Your life is not easy or good at all." he tells you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm used to it, I guess." you say keeping your head down trying to preserve a modicum of self-control after receiving these sweet gestures from him "You don't know how I'd like to do the things everyone does, getting drunk for example, my friends do it every Saturday, I've never done it. Or, driving, I have a license, but my mother won't let me drive. Or again, I would like to travel, I would like to go to the lake, you know the one just outside the city?" he nods "I would like to go there, spend a day in nature. I would like to fall in love. There are so many things I'd like to do, but ... I already know I can't do them."

"Fly away. Leave everything." he tells you with an exhortant tone of voice "Parents often make mistakes, they sometimes make serious mistakes, they made mistakes in the past and they fear that their children will make mistakes too, but no parent should prevent their son or daughter from making their own choices, making mistakes perhaps, but it's precisely when they make mistakes that parents can maybe advise 'em and guiding 'em, without forcing 'em, toward their own path."

You look at him for a long moment in the face "You said some beautiful things." you say "You have no idea how much I wish my mother was a simple guide, I'd like she could listen to me once in a while...!" you exclaim in an almost pained tone look him in the eye "I'm sorry if I'm boring you. You will already have your own boredom without adding mine."

"No." he says laying his hand on yours absentmindedly resting on your knee "Whenever you want, I'm here. I'm not your age, but I'm listening. If you want." he adds with a broad smile.

"Why, how old are you?" you ask him.

"Guess." he tells you.

"Um, forty?"

He shakes his head.

"Forty-two, forty-five...?" you guess again.

"Forty-seven." he finally says.

Forty-seven years is a long, long time, but for some strange reason you don't feel all the difference you should feel.

You nod.

"Does my age make you feel even more uncomfortable?" he asks, peering carefully your face and expression.

It should. Probably.

"No." you just answer him, "We're not doing anything illegal."

"Right." he agrees nodding.

You remain silent for a moment, then he looks at you again and says, "Tomorrow, would you like to accompany me somewhere?"

"Yes, that's fine," you answer him nodding "Why don't you like Jack?" you ask him after a few moments of silence.

He spreads his legs slightly, resting his elbows on his thighs "I have nothing against him."

"Yet you give him these unkind nicknames," you reply.

"I have nothing against him." he repeats "You don't like Romeo?"

"No, Romeo and Juliet had a horrible epilogue."

"I know, I know the tragedy!" he exclaims crossing his arms "Are you afraid your mother will object like Juliet Capulet's family?"

You roll your eyes "No one killed anyone, so I don't think it's appropriate to create tragedy where there is none," you say, shaking your head.

"You like that guy, little girl, don't you?" he asks you with a small grin.

You rock back on your heels biting your lower lip, feel your cheeks pucker, look away completely and hear him laugh.

"I knew it, well then I'll see this new love blossom!"

You look out the window, "You won't see anything at all instead," you sigh sadly.

"And why is that?" he asks as he gets up and joins you at the window, you see him leaning against the opposite side of the window "I was just teasing you a little, I would never spy on you!" he clarifies in a serious and sorry tone.

"Oh, well, thank God!" you exclaim looking him in the eye "The problem is not you. It's not him. It's not my mother -- it's me." you say lowering your gaze and then turning it toward the street "Jack intrigues me, I like the way he thinks, the effort he puts into his work, his study. He's interesting."

"So what? Where's the problem?" he asks.

"But why should he be interested in someone like me, a common person who says and thinks common things, nothing extraordinary."

"You are a sweet and polite girl, and that's the foremost thing. Then you may have some passions in common. You don't have anything that would make you feel less than others." he tells you by stroking your face with the back of his hand, you feel the roughness of it and find yourself instinctively closing your eyes.

However, you immediately open your eyes again and find his brown eyes intent on peering you; the expression in his eyes is strangely sweet. There is no trace of irony, only sweetness, and it causes you to swallow and make your heart pound.

Your heart beats faster now than during your meeting with Jack, and it destabilizes you.

"Thank you." you say only. Unable to add anything else, his gaze has sent you into a state of utter confusion. You expressed your puzzlement that Jack didn't like you; yet, now you find yourself feeling lost in his dark eyes and his mature face.

"Excuse me for saying yesterday that you had a wife," you tell him, you don't even know what it has to do with this strange moment created between you, but you need something to break it up and return to what you were: two distant people who don't like each other at first sight.

He shakes his head "You don't have to. It's..." he finally pulls his hand away from your face and shakes his head "...been a long time ago." he concludes by lowering his head and walking away.

"So you've been married?" you ask unable to let it go.

He looks at you and lets you know with just a gaze that you have talked too much, you lower your gaze biting your lower lip softly.

"We'll talk about it maybe another time," he tells you in a quiet tone despite that look he gave you.

You nod again with your head down. You entered perhaps into a part of his life that he doesn't want to share with a perfect stranger such as you, or perhaps it hurts him too much to talk about it. Then again, if not, why would he have that worn-out photograph of that little girl?

Perhaps she's the child of this probably failed marriage.

It would not be the first marriage to fail, but it seems that this one hurted, and still hurts Joel.

"I'll drive you back in front of my brother's house. It's only 20 minutes away now."

You nod, then pick up your sheet music on which Joel marked chords by slipping it into your backpack, put on your jacket, and wait outside the door for him to get dressed to leave, too.

You wonder what could have happened to Mr. Miller's marriage, what could have caused it to founder, maybe he cheated on her and what you had seen in his eyes was remorse or maybe regret for cheating on her, or maybe he was the one who had been cheated on and therefore what you had seen was still resentment for the humiliation he had suffered. What if perhaps Mr. Miller's wife had cheated on him with Tommy?

Now your mind wanders and you're so lost in these speculations that you jump when Joel brushes your arm to tell you it's time to go, only to add a sleeping beauty pet name that makes you roll your eyes.

When you get into the car, he immediately turns the fan on and again starts up a song you've never heard before, but you guess the singer is not exactly contemporary, extolling young love, the love that blossoms between two lovers. You are trying to guess who the singer is, but you discover Joel watching you intensely in your face "What?" you ask him puzzled and intrigued by that look. The same one he had given you before, but as before you can't understand its meaning.

He shrugs and then turns his gaze back to the road, you shrug, unable to understand his attitude.

"Tell me." you boost him "It's about before, isn't it? Excuse me, please," you add apologetically.

"Ya know, I was trying to remember how I saw love at your age. Definitely not a catch like today."

"Is that what you think about love? A waste of time, a catch? I know it's none of my business, but who is the idiot who made you this?" you ask, turning a curious and a sad look on him.

Joel doesn't speak, he doesn't speak the whole way. When you are now in front of Tommy's building, he sets the parking brake and looks at you, you give him an equally mute look. You are about to greet him and tell him that he confirms himself as a strange person, but then he says, "Sorry about before." he hastens to add, "About love."

You nod as if you understood something about it, but you understood nothing about what happened.

"That will be the topic of the next class," he tells you.

"I don't want you to feel obligated to talk to me about it. I'm just an inexperienced girl who's coming into love for the first time - or I think it's love, I don't know - and to hear someone talk about it as if it's a tragedy, it makes me curious and sad at the same time." you explain to him.

He nods "Good thing you won't be unlucky in love." like me, he was probably about to say, or at any rate you had the feeling he was about to say it.

"I'm sorry, Joel." you say reaching out to him and hugging him by the shoulders, you feel him stiff and you, regretting this outburst, quickly pull away saying, "Thanks for the ride." having said that you get out of the SUV and enter the bar.

You look for Jack, but - as Joel had told you before - he's not there. Meanwhile, you see him pull up and stand there in front of the building, not getting out. He looks down the street and occasionally toward you. This attitude confuses you. He wants to be close to you but keep you at a distance at the same time.

This manner of his definitely complicates everything and confuses your every thought.

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llamagirl28 · 6 months

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A song I really think about when playing BOC is "Never Love an Anchor" by the crane wives. It's SUCH a good song, and it applies well when we look at Arthur as a character, specifically how he views and treats Mordred.

At the beginning of the song, the opening lines "On some level, I think I always understood/That these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever" is such an Arthur thing to feel. Also applies to how Arthur handled the Mordred situation- his absence in Mordred's life, his adherence to Merlin's and Lance's stance on Mordred, his own conflicting feelings over his only child and their twisted conception.

He always claims that it was for the best, evident in the chapter 3 pov where we first meet him. Yet, over the course of the first few chapters, he realizes that he harmed more than he helped. He handled it the best he could given the circumstances (well, the best he thought he could) but ultimately, nothing went right. Arthur realizes, at first subconsciously, and then consciously, with full force. His handling of Mordred (or rather, Merlin's handling of Mordred, since iirc Merlin kind of influenced his thoughts about whatever presence he should have in Mordred's life) was clumsy.

The next few lines "And I tried to do the best that I could/ But try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to hold you" also cements this dynamic. Arthur is torn up inside about his avoidance of Mordred. He desperately wants to be a dad, but at the same time, is deeply ashamed of Mordred. Combined with the unacknowledged trauma of his r*pe..yeah, the line hits. He's trying his best, but he's held back by the shame and guilt of that night. It's present whether you have a good relationship or not, but far more evident if you are no contact with him.

Next stanza. "It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest/ With this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful". Secret referring here to him being the father of Mordred, and up until chapter 4, how morgana r*ped him. Pretty easy to see the connection there. Though the line "with this heart of mine..." doesn't quite easily fit, since he is remorseful over abandoning Mordred, though I think it applies more to villainous mordreds/ those who act more like morgana than arthur. In the patreon side story featuring Alina (uhm, spoiler beware) there are a few options that remind Arthur of Morgana- when you smile like her, act sardonic, etc. He makes a point to say "every inch morgana's child" or something like that. He actively connects Mordred more with Morgana than with him in these instances. With these types of Mordred's, the line applies twofold- he is guilty of abandoning them, and remorseful...yet he sees Morgana so incredibly clearly in them, and he is wary. He remembers the prophecy, and, while not entirely sticking by it, still keeps it at the forefront of his thoughts in a way.

"There is love that doesn't have a place to rest/But it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders" pretty easy to see the connection. The love Arthur has for Mordred is mixed with wariness, shame, and guilt, and mars whatever caring he has for them. Combined with how he rarely sees Mordred, it's hard for him to express that love, especially if you don't have contact with him. (Can you tell my Mordred's relationship with Arthur yet, lol). It's expressed, instead, to Gawain, up until chapter 3 and, probably if you choose not to communicate w him at all, way past chapter 3. He showers Gawain with love because he can't do the same to Mordred, but if he was able to, he would have done it with Mordred as well. He would've been a great dad, if only Morgana hadn't...yeah.

"On some level, I think I always understood /That a ship could never really love an anchor/So, I did the only thing that I could/And severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor" is an interesting lyric. There's a surface level meaning, but also a more conflicting one. If we apply it to Arthur it's him saying "hey, i couldn't be anything you needed me to be when you were growing up, and so i had to separate myself from you for both our sakes." It might not have been the right choice, but according to everyone around him, it was necessary, especially when you factor in the prophecy.

But. Ships need anchors, to ground them and keep them stable. Without an anchor, a ship will float adrift at sea, never to come to shore and go home. "A ship could never really love an anchor" seems more like his own guilt clouding his judgement when you have a bad relationship with him. "Of course Mordred could never truly love me. I'm an anchor and they're a ship." But ships need anchors Arthur. Mordred is bullied ruthlessly, Mordred has to deal with so many terrible things. Arthur could have been of use, could have been their anchor during this dark time. But he wasn't, because of past trauma and a prophecy hanging over his head.

A lyric that I heavily associate with a distant Chapter 4 Arthur is "There are times when I still wonder about you/ You are someone I have loved, but never known". Mordred has expressed a desire to keep Arthur out of their life, and Arthur respects that. He lives with his chosen family in Camelot, and does his everyday routines. But Mordred still invades his mind, especially around their birthday. "There are times when I still wonder about you" can basically go for the whole arthur pov in chapter 4, really, when he's thinking about Mordred's birthday. Also all the times early on in the story when he talks about wondering what Mordred was like. I for the life of me cannot remember since I've only done a route where I had a good relationship with Arthur like, once, but a scene like this doesn't really happen in chapter 4 for those playthroughs. No internal angsting over Mordred's b-day and their distance, no snake carving, no sadness over not being in contact with mordred. In the playthroughs where you have contact with him, he loves and knows you. In the playthroughs where u can barely stand him, he loves you, but he doesn't know you. He's never gotten the chance to know your hobbies, or your favorite colors, or whether you like your lessons or not. Mordred is sort of a question mark for him, an enigma between a nightmare and a dream.

"And you'll never see the reasons I had/ For keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you" goes more for pre-chapter 4 Mordred's, though it can work with Mordred's post chapter 4. Mordred doesn't know why Arthur doesn't speak to them, and as a result doesn't know the truth of their conception. They chalk it up to Arthur being a coward (at least in my run), a man so shackled to a sorcerer's prophecy that he can't look at Mordred truly as a child. Arthur is pretty sure Mordred is unaware of how they were truly made (after all, Morgana will never say she was wrong without any incentive) but he did think Mordred knew the prophecy. Now that he knows Mordred had no idea about it, he realizes Mordred has no base at all for why Arthur has no contact with him.

In some of the earlier asks, there were a few au questions. Two of them live in my brain rent free: an ask about what would have happened to Mordred had Morgana died during childbirth, and how would Arthur reach out to Mordred if he could still have children. Both of them indicate that Arthur would have been kind of a trash dad. In the one where Morgana dies, Arthur is forced to kind of take custody of Mordred, though he gives them over to Merlin to be a sorcerers apprentice. He's just as absent as he is early on in the game, only reaching out in later years, and more in an uncle fashion than in a father fashion. In the ask where he's able to have more kids, he seems to be a good dad to them, but in regards to Mordred, he only waits until they're in Camelot to attempt any type of reconciliation with them, and it seems as though he'd rather not have a relationship.

If Arthur was in Mordred's life in the early years, as a teen dad with sexual trauma, he would not have been good. He would have been distant and hesitant, and probably would have given them more daddy issues than they already can have in game. I think it's something mentioned by Acolon- love must be freely given, not forced.

"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel/ I am all the things they might have said to you" is peak Arthur Sad Hours. It's also, however, a very apt statement. These are things said to Mordred by well...everybody. They're viewed as a monster, evil through the sole purpose of being born to the wrong woman. The latter line connects what they say about Mordred to Arthur, acknowledging both the blood ties that bond them together, as well as saying that even though everyone thinks he's the hottest thing since sliced bread, he's a person too! He's not some saint whose kind and benevolent to everyone; he makes mistakes, he makes bad choices and can be (unknowingly) cruel to others, and in regards to the prophecy, is selfish under the guise of being selfless. He's not a perfect uwu will never do anything wrong EVER boy...he's just a person.

"Do you ever think of me and my two hands?/And wonder why they never soothed your fevers?/And wonder why they never tied your shoes?/And wonder why they never held you gently?" very easily brings to mind a scene of Arthur watching Kay or Lance play with their kids and wish he could do that with Mordred. Arthur, despite everything, does desperately wish to be a father, but he can't because of a curse and a prophecy, respectively. He can't (pardon my language) bring someone into this world because Morgana got rid of that ability, and he can't reach out to Mordred bc 1)trauma 2)prophecy and 3) he very much conforms to what other people want from him, even if it goes against his own wishes.

"And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?" drives all of these ideas home. He never had the chance to be a proper father early in Mordred's life, and depending on ur playthrough, still doesn't have that chance. It's inhabited by Accolon (for now) and while he thinks that was the better option, he still yearns for that chance. He never had the chance to bond with them, to watch Mordred take their first steps and lose their baby teeth. He never got to read books to Mordred when they were sleepy, and never got to make absolutely horrid dad jokes while they grown in embarrassment. And he will never get to watch Mordred grow old (at least, in this point in the story). He'll never see them through the awkward stages of puberty, watch them rebel and yell at their parents some emo crap before going off to sulk. If you have a bad relationship with him, you only see him once more before you go to Camelot to join the Round Table, at Gareth's wedding. In the bad relationship route, this line is potent because nothing is fixed; their relationship is stilted. He will never get to see them in the Older Years, while in good relationship playthroughs, he can.

Sooo many of the Crane Wives songs are boc coded, tbh. Tongues and Teeth is THE morgana song, and The Moon Will Sing fit remorseful villain mordred's extremely well! I might do another one of these analysis's some time in the future, cause this was pretty fun. I might be off base on some points, so feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong. Now if you'll excuse me it's currently 4am, so I will be off to get some much needed sleep. Have a good one Llama!

It's a very good and thorough analysis! Thank you for sharing 💕 I'd be delighted to hear more, if and whenever you feel like doing another one.

And now I should go listen to the song itself. I only know a couple Crane Wives songs, which I love - Curses and Tongues and Teeth, and I do agree with the latter being very Morgana coded.

#the bastard of camelot #It's always such a joy to hear people's thoughts on the game #And find it stayed with them and occupies their mind

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