#who are just so overwhelmingly Fond of each other

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

i finally got to the "you manipulative bitch" scene and oh boy it did not disappoint

#they're fucking soulmates!!!! #they love each other so much #and all the odd convoluted ways they show that love is. it's. #it's just A Lot #they're both such little fucking gremlins #who are just so overwhelmingly Fond of each other #i hate them (affectionate <3) #hilson #house md #house season 5 #house 5x21 #videos - house #op

[aceredshirt13]

Having read a fair amount of Poirot as of late (the first two novels and most of the short stories in Poirot Investigates), the thing I’ve overwhelmingly come away with is that Poirot and Hastings both are and aren’t what pop culture would have you think that Holmes and Watson are like.

Poirot is outwardly conceited, thinking the best of his own abilities while deriding those of the people around him. Hastings especially falls victim to this, being teased for “not seeing” and manipulated more than once as Poirot withholds the facts, and being resentful of Poirot’s arrogance while also being unduly arrogant himself - nearly every single one of his own proud deductions turns out to be intensely wrong, and he is also prone to foolish or reckless acts in the name of trying to score one off Poirot. Holmes and Watson, on the other hand, certainly have their faults, but their relationship is not so tempestuous, and Holmes is kinder and Watson less foolish than is often presumed by those who have not read the canon. Holmes, while possessed of some immodesty, never flaunts his intelligence so dramatically as Poirot does, and Watson is largely faithful and amazed by Holmes’s deductive capacity, and though occasionally annoyed is almost never resentful.

However, what I like about Poirot and Hastings is the way in which they aren’t like Holmes and Watson as painted with the pop cultural brush - namely that, like the original Holmes and Watson, Poirot and Hastings are unquestionably fond of each other. Their tiffs and petty spats are always contrasted with their affection, if not shot through with it in the first place. Poirot may speak ill of Hastings’s intelligence, but it is shown multiple times that he does not genuinely want to hurt his feelings, and he always asks Hastings to come with him on his cases - not because Hastings always provides any material aid, but because Hastings is his friend. Hastings may tease Poirot and think condescendingly of his mannerisms, but his laughter is always fond, and he admires him and desires his praise and respect just as much as he worries for him and wants to help him in potential times of need. Most importantly, despite their arguments and many differences (age, culture, temperament, just to name a few) they remain steadfastly together (with many year living voluntarily under the same roof!) and ultimately both wish and facilitate each other’s happiness.

They are more difficult than their Doyle-penned forbears, but for that there is no less love.

#red randomness #poirot #acd holmes #hercule poirot #arthur hastings #sherlock holmes #john watson #100 and up neat #my dad once said he believed that Poirot’s attitude might be why people think Holmes is the way he is #having conflated the famous detectives #and I’m genuinely curious if there’s something to that #though certainly bad pop culture Holmeses often fail to retain both Holmes and Poirot’s inherent silliness #something that can only be chalked up to pure cowardice #but as is usually the case in these sorts of stories #the most important thing is the love the lead characters share #no matter how that love may manifest itself

[pav-ia]

first i'd like to say THANK YOU SM YOURE LITERALLY FEEDING PAVIA FANS AFTER WEVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR SCRAPS FOR SO LONG | LOVE YOUR WRITING ♥︎♥︎♥︎

methinks he would be very very interested in the art of dancing for two. he's read about it, he's heard the music, he's seen the pictures, the movies, the fancy suits, the sweeping dresses, the roses - all in bits and pieces here and there. dancing with one's lover, holding them in your arms and watching the light of a candle or the moon grace their features as you let the music and movements convey the feelings in your heart, is something he believes to be very special. now that he's with you daily, the vivid image of you two dancing only grows stronger in his mind (the softening of his heart be damned): the way your fingers would lace together with one hand and grab onto each other with the second, the little clever lines he'd say now and again to try to fluster you and get you to mess up, the music that he'd carefully pick out just for the moment, and, of course, the look he would give you before the classic kiss that he's always seen after a dance such as this.

and so, after you tell him in passing conversation that you 'don't do dancing’, your imagined endearing clumsiness is another bit of extra charm added to his daydreams. he would just lead you gently with his voice and his hands, smiling once you finally get it. but why let the fantasies be fantasies?

this is basically me asking for pavia dancing with his bf (or partner if you’re making it gn) who has never really danced before. UGHHH I NEED HIM

ANON KISS ME ON THE LIPS RIGHT NOW

,, dancing ”

pavia x gn reader

warnings :: idk fluff

months into your relationship as you’re growing out of your lovesick phase, hes slowly growing into his — he doesnt realize just how much he thinks about you.

when he comes to term that you are the closest thing to a soulmate that any person has ever experienced ever, hes suddenly aware of the way his first thought when he wakes up is you, the way his heart picks up when you do any minor task for him(he holds back a little squeal and giggle when you leave him gifts💀), how his face grows uncontrollably red when you do that stupid thing with your face- when you smile and your eyes have that warm fondness in them thats overwhelmingly warm— he hates it. hes a liar

he was always fascinated with dancing. it started with when he first started his life in the city, at clubs hed see different people connecting from music and those mesmerizing movements of hips swaying or arms swinging.

after he had done a few jobs disguising himself as a gentleman attending a fancy ball, slow dancing became what interested him more. he was stunned by the beauty and grace that two people could make from just moving, their steps in sync even if they were strangers.

when he met you, he had forgotten all about that year of his life where he was fixated on the art of dancing. for the first few months, he was closed off in the relationship. he didnt feel bad at first — why would he? he deserves to be loved after all — but the way you were so patient with him, so loving and so gentle, so sweet and genuinely kind was too much. it took him a while to tell you about his past, and even then he kept it vague, but you just held him and reassured him that he did deserve to be loved.

you were too good for this world.

it took almost as long to accept that you really did care just as much as he hoped you did. and when he did accept it, he became acutely aware of how much of an effect you had on him.

one night, he had come home late. he expected you to be asleep, but he heard you humming from the kitchen. he walked in on you gently humming a tune to yourself, his wolves leon and maleficent sitting at your ankles. you were making a simple stew, your body swaying from side to side to the tune of your gentle voice.

leon noticed him almost immediately, sitting up and running to his feet. he jumped up and put his paws on pavia, sniffing at his clothes. when you turned around, he gave you a gentle smile.

“do you dance?” he blurted. he didnt know where it came from, but it was sudden and out of nowhere.

you blink at him in surprise — what a sudden question. you smile at him and it tickles the parts of his heart that are cold and unapproachable.

“not really.” you respond to his question.

hes still standing near the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable. “can i teach you?”

thats what led you two to the present. he took the lead, your hand in his as you moved slowly in your living room. the cd player contently humming out a slow, romantic song that pavia had picked out as you let him hold you.

one hand on your waist, his eyes are gazing down at you in a suffocatingly loving way. he has the faintest smile, before he pulls you closer. your head against his chest only made the moment more intimate, and he rested his head on yours.

your legs occasionally tripped over one another, but he caught you right away. he hummed along with the slow song, his hand moving from your waist to the bottom of your spine. he slid his cold hand under your shirt, pressing his palm over your skin, rocking you from side to side.

youre slowly getting it, moving along with the smooth rhythm of the music. you angled your head upwards, and he raised his head to look into your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

the song came to an end, and as you pulled away, he tugged on your shirt. he kept his hand on you as he put a new cd in the player, and pulled you close to do another dance.

#%write #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x reader #pavia fluff #pavia reverse 1999 x reader #pavia x you #reverse 1999 #reverse1999 x reader #pavia #r1999 #r99 pavia

[002yb]

Blanket apology on the lateness to all of these replies.  ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Head bonks when they’re brushing their teeth over one sink

A persisting argument of Dick wanting to save any stray bugs that make their way into their apartment while Jason wants to eradicate them (because Dick thinks they’re neat, but Jason associates them to an unkept home)

They don’t own a mop, so they make a conga line where Jason shuffles through with a wet towel and Dick shuffles through with a dry towel behind him

Dick coming home with groceries, only for the both of them to go back out again because he forgot the top thing on the list; it happens consistently and Jason has an inkling Dick does it on purpose (he does)

Whipping each other with towels and vaulting over furniture to escape impending doom

Tucked away in this ask, only I’m not sure what else to add hahaha.

Just Jason consciously falling in love with Dick over a series of mundane moments

So he associates all these little things with Dick in that way young lovers do

A certain route they patrolled, the flickering of a neon sign, the wind pulling through their hair as they sat up high on a skyscraper.  The pounding of his heartbeat as they chased each other, the sweltering heat of a humid day or the smell of a coffee – warm where Dick pressed it to Jason’s cheek and warm throughout his body when Jason sipped at it and let it chase away all the fatigue.  Dawn on the horizon with Dick at Jason’s window - lingering just a moment longer.

Jason being very aware of how smitten he is and doing nothing about it.  Just basking in the present moments as they come and being content in their afterglow.

This is perfection.  No notes.  Superb.

Uaaaaaahhhhhhhh an art like this must exist, right?  It’s too good not to!!  Damian being ornery with Dick in this sort of capacity (with them both fawning over Jason) is probably my most favorite dc fanon thing hahaha.  Thank you for the visual of this, anon!

Hahaha, how Dick keeps his degeneracy under wraps is beyond Jason, truly.  Truth be told though, it stops being discreet because Jason’s reactions to all of Dick’s dirty talk is so obvious.  That’s okay though because Dick doesn’t mind.  Even if he goes down, Jason goes with him; they’re partners in life and in their perverse ways.  An accusation Jason adamantly refuses because they are not the same; no way!

To which Dick will roll his eyes but it’s whatever.  Denial is the first step to acceptance.  That besides, it’s not like Jason isn’t the one pulling Dick aside or beckoning him someplace private after Dick drops those suggestions. ;)

Hahaha, the perpetually single ones for sure.  But I think those who are in committed relationships would be overwhelmingly fond and nostalgic.  Seeing dickjay’s young love, so new and sweet and exciting, would remind them of back when they were first falling in love.  And it’d maybe spark some rekindled romance in their own relationships as they reminisce.

Meanwhile dickjay admiring those who have been in relationships longer because they’re comfortable and settled and really?  They can’t wait to be there, but for now Dick and Jason just enjoy each other day by day. //u///

There’s a story sitting in my drafts that covers this.  It’s been done for months but tbh having to tag on ao3 is such a daunting thing.  I’ll try to get this posted for you soon, anon.

This exchange is the closest to eldritch!Dick as I can imagine.

Will-o-Wisp!Dick lives in my head rent free and it’s the closest I think I can get to something eldritch (because I’m dumb I don’t actually get what it’s supposed to be LOL).  Or something akin to a will-o-wisp.  With Dick being able to twist his voice and image to lure people into the bog that is Gotham’s bowels.  He usually makes himself known as a robin chirping in the night; a warning song.

Other times he’ll appear as a child, dashing through shadows with laughter echoing through alleys.  A beautiful boy that lures criminals away from the main streets and any lingering lights, or guides innocents someplace safer.

And then there’s Dick Grayson, grown and bewitching with the mirthful light in his eyes and a wicked smile; bared teeth and a jaw that might be too sharp.

Dick becoming an urban legend in his own right.  Where he’s ‘passive,’ only not really.  He guides people through Gotham and depending on the situation, Dick will bring them home.  Or he’ll walk them off a building’s ledge, into oncoming traffic, or for those most wicked – infront of the muzzle of Red Hood’s gun.

This post.

Ahahahaha, thank you so much!  Jason getting all flustered after being exposed (by himself, no less) is so charming.  For as much as I love maiden!Jason, he’s probably a bit of a freak ngl.  Like Jason probably kink shames himself after bringing up something he’d like to try with Dick and Dick sputters because the depravity is !!!

Just Jason basing the validity of some of his kinks on Dick’s reaction to them because Dick is the most depraved man he knows.

Of course even when Jason catches Dick off guard (surprisingly often), Dick gets on board real quick.

But yeah, without fail I think it’s always Jason that exposes his own kinks.  And he’s not casual about it at all once he realizes and that exposes himself further and it’s the most vicious of cycles, hahaha.

In reply to this ask.

Tbh, no change LOL.  Dick’s domesticity kink and how he reacts to Jason being domestic transcends time and circumstance.  So, basically:  Simp King!Dick Grayson.  Who is genuinely turned on by stupid, mundane domestic things but who also plays up his reactions because it makes Jason laugh and fluster and Dick loves to see that.

The visual of Dick being taken out at the knees or falling into the wall for support or just keeling over a bit while biting his sleeve because Jason is cooking/cleaning/doing laundry is just so silly hahaha.  Or even Dick just being all sparkly and flowery because yeah, check out his boyfriend (only don’t, thanks) being so sweet and caring and wonderful.  //U////

But also the heated moments because of course.  Where Dick:

Hooks his chin over Jason’s shoulder as Jason cooks something over the stove.  Hands on Jason’s hips and peppering kisses just below Jason’s ear (and in abo setting getting a little high off of Jason’s scent because nothing is more tantalizing than that).  And Jason tries to turn around so that they can fool around a bit, but Dick is all, ‘nope, keep cooking //W////’ and proceeds to just shower Jason in some heavy petting

Oh.  Basically the above, but Jason is washing dishes.  And Dick manages to make Jason come with only the graze of Dick’s teeth at his nape and some dirty promises

Dick pushing Jason back onto a pile of unfolded laundry and having his way with him right there.  ANd Jason loves it in the moment, caught between still hot clothes and Dick burning above him.  Up until they get off and Jason realizes he has to redo laundry.  Again.

It’s cool though.  Dick joins him and they fuck again with Jason bent over the wash, detergent spilling everwhere.

Omg they’re fooling around as the washer is going only to have it flood with suds because they accidentally spilled in too much detergent ahhhahaha

Honestly torn between Damian wholeheartedly believing possessiveness = protectiveness, or whether he's aware of the difference but was impacted by losing Jason (when Jason left the League) and that loss fucked him up in a way that makes him believe that to keep someone close, you've got to own them. 🤔

Either way, Damian rates Dick low because there's always room for improvement.  There's potential, surely, but generally Dick is too nice.

As for something that constitutes Dick being bumped up to a 10?  Ahahaha, Vampire King!Dick turning Jason and making him his vampire queen and doing so in a way where Jason can only feed on Dick to survive.  And when Jason tries a hunger strike, Dick retaliates by starving Damian somehow.  It's an inconceivable thought if only because Dick is so soft on him, but it would prove very telling.

Hello, hello~ I’m getting by alright.  Sorry that I’ve not been posting much though!  And that it took so long to reply to this ask. ;3;

But yeah, Talia and Jason.  Because I’m a sucker for Jason whump forever and always, I’m partial to a relationship where Talia only cares for Jason because of his relationship with Bruce.  So there’s no love or genuine affection there for Jason as an individual, just as a convenient means of achieving a faroff goal.  Where Jason is, once again, collateral damage.

That’s a disservice to Talia though so like, reserved mother figure or just a lady who is fond of the nanny/bodyguard she found for her son is cool, too!

Thank you for reading so many of my posts!  It makes me happy that you enjoyed enough to read more. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Jason winning over the hearts of all the shop employees because despite his intimidating stature, Jason is a timid maiden as he wanders the shop.  His gaze keeps wandering to the delicate lingerie and corsets, but Jason’s convinced it’d be dumb on him because he’s not exactly dainty

Queue encouraging salespeople and clientele and Jason being so flushed that everyone falls in love with him

Also everyone being like, hot damn, because that bust to waist ratio?  Sinful.  Who’s the lucky guy that landed him?

It’s the atmosphere of the place that gets Jason sharing a picture of Dick and oh boy does Jason preen as everyone admires his boyfriend.

Just Jason having a good time despite the initial (and persisting because he’s a maiden) embarrassment lol.

And then he gets home and omgggggg Dick

Dick sneaks in and catches Jason trying to lace up the corset on his own and Dick is such a goner because hot damn hot damn he’s fainting don’t call for help though, just cushion his fall with those bolstered tits; let Dick catch himself with hands braced on that cinched waist fuuuuuuuuuu–

For real, Dick is just so delighted because Jason is so gorgeous (and cute and sweet, because of course he flusters and tries to explain everything away, but Dick isn’t a fool; he’s fully encouraging and supportive)

Then it’s just Dick pulling the corset tight for Jason

And marveling at the way he pulls Jason’s breath from him

Looking over Jason’s shoulder to watch Jason watching himself in the mirror

Then running his hands over Jason so that he can watch through the mirror

And when their eyes catch Jason is blushing red and the corset already has him short of breath, but seeing Dick’s heated gaze has him feeling faint–

Then Jason wakes up and Dick is all sheepish because he might have pulled the corset too tight, whoops; they were both a little overzealous

Dick wanting to go with Jason the next time he goes shopping.  He wants to pick something for him, too ;)

This ask.

Bahaha for comedy the baby is absolutely Clark and Jason's. Logic be damned, Bruce would be positively teeming with rage directed solely at his 'partner,' his 'better half,' his 'we're divorced now' bestie and just. One would think Superman went and impregnated Bruce's babygirl as opposed to the cloning that actually happened.

But yes, basically Bruce being mad because:

Clark 'knocked up' Bruce's darling babygirl

Clark is the father

The baby isn't Bruce's

Poor Clark can't catch a break, either, because Dick? He is his adoptive daddy's son through and through and is also teeming with rage directed solely at his 'hero,' his 'most revered mentor,' his 'i'm disowning myself now' second father figure because like. Really?? Dick just bought a ring?? ('But you haven't had your first date yet?' Clark would note, to which Dick would bristle because, 'It's serious-- ;n;').

Let's not forget Damian 'brocon' Al Ghul-Wayne, either. Because ahahaha. Even while Jon is dropping the biggest hints about being disappointed and wanting to start a family with Damian, Damian is zeroed in on Jon's dad because Clark and Jason? Absolutely not. As you might guess, Damian is teeming ahahaha. Because to him, Jason is simultaneously mother and babygirl. In that same vein, Damian's place as t h e b a b y in Jason's life has been stolen from him and he's distraught.

Meanwhile Tim is with Kon and they're just like, PHEW. Thank fuck. But then just a few seconds later they're fooling around because, 'no clones here; I'll put a baby in you myself,' and 'yeah? go ahead and try. ;)'

#dickjay #jaydick #another lightning round of replies

[lix88888]

Flowers

It was Ink's idea, because if course it was. Dream thought it was terribly endearing of him, to always propose little ways to show their love. The three of them couldn't go a week without the artist putting an arm on their shoulders and going "Hey, wouldn't it be nice if..."

This was one of his cutest to date, though. Dream sighed happily as he reached Ink's house (they had moved in together a few weeks ago, but Dream still felt hesitant to call it theirs), gently knocking and then opening the door.

Blue and Ink were already there, Ink bouncing off the wall in excitement while Blue watched him with fond amusement as he sat at the living room table. There was an empty vase on it, and given the rainbow splashes Ink was the one who made it.

"Dreamy!" he shouted, coming closer and hugging him, then pecking him on the cheek and pulling him to the table by his hand.

"Come on come on come on!" his pupils were a pink heart and a star "I can't wait anymore!"

Blue, meanwhile, had already pulled out a chair for him. "Ink, let him breathe!" he said with a laugh "We're all excited!" "I know, I know! It's just that- Ah, I just want to see all of the flowers!"

Dream sat down, grabbing Blue's hand while not letting go of Ink's, and laying a kiss on each. Yes, Ink had been the one to suggest the idea, but Dream and Blue too had quickly been taken by it: each of them had to gift a bouquet of flower to one of the others, using flower language as a guide, and then the three different flower arrangements would be put together. A nice, sweet symbolism.

"I know I came last, but can I start?" Dream asked. He was very proud of his choice of flower. "Sure!" Ink shouted "But only if I'm next!" "I don't mind being last." "Perfect!"

Dream opened his inventory and brought out a bouquet of irises: the flowers were a vibrant baby blue, the same shade as Blue's eyes, and offered it to him.

"For you, Blue, irises" he said, watching as his lover held the bouquet and gently hugged it to his chest "They represent faith, trust, wisdom, hope, and valor. All things I see in you every day, and that you inspire in people, and that I love about you."

By the time he was finished, Blue's cheek were colored a very pretty azure shade, only eclipsed by his blinding smile and his overwhelmingly joyful aura. "Oh Dream, this is so sweet..."

There was a couple of seconds of silence, then Ink said: "Well, I fell kinda dumb now." The Protector took out his own bouquet from his inventory and gave it to Dream, his pupils a yellow star and a green square "These are yellow tulips: they mean sunshine in your smile. I thought they were kinda neat, given that you're... well, you're like the sun. And yellow, like happiness."

Now it was Dream's turn to blush. Despite Ink's claim, his simple reasoning was not at all bland or unoriginal. Though... "Let me guess" Dream said with a giggle "you thought of this flower first, and the idea later."

Ink's amused shrug was the only answer Dream needed. Then, he gasped and turned to Blue.

"Now it's my turn! What are my flowers?!"

Blue delicately set down his irises, then grabbed a pink bouquet from his inventory and offered it to Ink, his aura composed in equal part of love and thoughtfulness.

"These" he said, putting his hands over Ink's own "are pink carnations: it means I'll never forget you."

And oh, Ink's face was indescribable: there was so much emotion in those pupils, going through so many shapes and colors.

"Wow... thanks." "Now" Blue said "The best part."

He grabbed his bouquet back, removing the paper around it and raising it at chest height. Dream and Ink followed suit, and then the three of them put all of the flowers together in the vase.

The blue, the yellow and the pink complimented each other so well.

@starsanspolyweek

#star sans poly week #star sans poly week 2023 #dream sans #ink sans #blue sans #swap sans #underswap sans #star sanses #utmv #undertale #star sans poly #blue x ink x dream #day 1 flowers #lix writes

[homielander]

the most interesting character detail about maeve through which i have extrapolated at least half my understanding of her is that she prefers to be called maeve. i frequently see "maggie" pop up in meta and fic as her chosen name, but quite literally nobody calls her that, including (and most significantly) elena. elena is maeve's tether to her humanity and her refuge away from vought, yet even elena only ever refers to her as maeve. (and in season 2, we learn that maeve started dating elena before she joined the seven -- before queen maeve's popularity would have become so inescapable that she would feel compelled to introduce herself by that name.) it's especially notable that in her final scene, maeve refers to starlight as annie for only the second time, but she is still called maeve by both annie and elena.

here's what we know about maeve's life as maggie: she had a rocky relationship with her father whom she doesn't seem to speak to anymore, she's from a "cousin-fucker hick town" as described by homelander -- i can't imagine this place being terribly lgbt-friendly, and she generally lacks connection with anyone she would have known before becoming queen maeve. she doesn't have fond memories of this time of her life, and perhaps that extends to all associations with it, including the name maggie.

i tend to think that becoming queen maeve was, in many ways, self-actualizing for her. the act that garners her national attention and earns her a ticket to vought is a heroic one -- she breaks every single bone in her right arm to save a school bus from falling off a bridge. and i know madelyn says she is responsible for the mythos of queen maeve, but this character was still aspirational, and likely someone maeve wanted to live up to. in any case, this new identity gave her a purpose and tools to achieve it: she wanted to help people! by her own admission, maeve enters vought bright-eyed and hopeful, not far off from annie. (maeve is also one of the only supes in the seven not to know about compound v -- she doesn't strike me as religious but believing she's among the very few born with powers would have strengthened her internal drive to be a hero.)

it's for the same reason that i think maeve actually... liked having powers? of course she says otherwise in her last season, but season 3 maeve is cynical and weary from about two decades of dealing with vought and homelander's abuse. they've used her first as the token woman and then the token gay person of the seven. after growing largely passive to the brutality of the job, the flight 37 incident forces her to confront all of the violence she's witnessed and tolerated. she's given pieces of herself away and she loathes the husk of herself that's left. i don't find it surprising that she would want to relinquish every single connection to vought, including her powers.

assuring herself that she will be better off without her powers comes with an added benefit: she gets to distinguish herself from homelander, who would be lost without his powers. and i think she is eager to make this distinction in her mind because there are some uncomfortable similarities between their initiations into vought. the mantle of homelander allows him to exert agency for the first time in his life, just as the mantle of queen maeve endows her with purpose for the first time in hers. (crucially, none of his current circle call him john, either.) they both enjoy being the most powerful superheroes in the world, the unending public adoration, and (in my interpretation) each other. they're also both overwhelmingly lonely and they know it -- homelander teases her multiple times about how she has no friends with a bit more bite in every passing season, while maeve is keenly aware of his isolation and exploits his yearning for love pretty effectively.

maeve steadily grows disillusioned with her position at vought because she still has a moral code, suppressed though it may be. even so, she nearly relents to homelander's vision: that they will be lonely at the top but lonely together. she's pulled out of her miserable state of inaction by annie and elena. annie reminds her of what a hero should be (what she was, once); elena offers her a way out of vought, serving as maeve's light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.

she escapes that tower as maeve, not maggie. she rejects homelander's god complex which engenders his cruelty towards regular people and 'lesser' supes -- no one will call her queen maeve ever again, at least -- but it is still important to her to be a hero, and for better or for worse, she found that as maeve. i feel like she'd struggle to exist without her powers (possibly the self-awareness hasn't settled in yet) for all the reasons mentioned above. i like to think that eventually, she'll circle around to helping people and resisting vought however possible -- albeit on a smaller, more covert scale so she can continue living a peaceful life with elena.

#sorry for this word vomit i have just been thinking about maeve! what's in a name... #motivated by 2 years of reading takes about maeve wanting to be a normie (during s1-3 and prior) that i don't rly agree with #i'm not offering this as the 'right' interpretation of course this is just what makes sense for me!! #i have a couple of things i wanted to add (particularly re: maeve x HL since i know how consensual their relationship was #is controversial and i feel a bit weird slipping in that characterization of it w/o any follow-up) #but for now i am just going to say it fits with how i perceive her character trajectory and leave it there?? #because i don't want to disrupt this post my thoughts on that #i also have mixed feelings on her ending but again not the post for it i suppose #queen maeve #the boys #maeve x elena #maeve x homelander #annie x maeve #supe names in this show are interesting... curious to see what they will do w annie next season

[kuiperblog]

Why the movie villain’s henchmen always wear masks

One of those “can’t unsee it” things about modern action movies is the fact that, overwhelmingly, the generic bad guys wear face-concealing masks, particularly in mid-budget direct-to-Netflix action movies. (My definition of “mid budget” here also includes “high budget” Netflix action movies where the bulk of the budget was clearly spent hiring Ryan Reynolds.)

I dislike this for many reasons, but high among them is that it deprives the stunt actors of the opportunity to act with their faces.

For contrast, watch a Jackie Chan movie: a huge part of the fun of Jackie Chan action scenes is the incredibly human reactions that people have when delivering (or taking) punches. When the hero is punching bad guys, it’s not just about the punch itself, but the reaction of the guy who’s getting punched! When someone gets kicked in the face or takes fist to the stomach, I want to see him react with obvious pain!

Even if the stunt actors aren’t amazingly emotive actors, it’s nice when all of the bad guys (even the “generic”) ones are visually distinctive. For one thing, it makes it easier to tell the “generic” characters straight from each other -- it’s simply harder to keep track of the action when the hero is fighting five bad guys who are all basically identical. You can try to get around this by giving the bad guys face-concealing helmets that are visually distinctive, though doesn’t make a ton of sense from a lore perspective, considering the entire point of a uniform is.  (Functional uniforms are, by their very nature, and by definition, designed to be uniform. It doesn’t make sense for the Galactic Empire to come up with unique helmets for each individual stormtrooper.)

But apart from the practical issues that come from all of the mooks being indistinct human-shaped blobs, there’s just the fact that as a human, I am  deeply biologically hardwired to find human faces compelling.  Human faces and bodies can be so delightfully idiosyncratic -- no two people look the same!

And therein lies the problem for the moviemakers.  Because if you wish to show dozens of unique human faces, then you need to have dozens of unique human faces.

If all they need to do is be excited faces in a crowd, then you can get extras. But if your movie is about a protagonist delivering bespoke acts of violence to dozens of generic bad guys, then those bad guys have to be played by stunt actors. And if you show us the stunt actors’ faces, audiences will start to notice when you start reusing stunt actors. (Even if we wouldn’t consciously register the fact that Chris Hemsworth is punching the same guy he just killed five minutes ago in a different action scene, our neural circuitry is really good at noticing familiar human faces. As Mike Stoklasa is fond of saying, “You may not have noticed it, but your brain did.”)

So, if you only have half a dozen stunt actors, but the movie calls for dozens of bad guys getting punched or stabbed or shot, then you have to cover their faces.

Realizing this has given me a greater appreciation for movies of this genre that don’t hide the actor’s faces. For example, Nobody is perfectly willing to show us the bad guy’s faces as they get punched, shot, and knocked around, which is great, because it’s a movie that is specifically about the consequences and brutality of violence.

Nobody does have one scene where the bad guys’ faces are covered -- they wear ski masks during the home invasion scene, because it makes narrative sense for them to do so. But ski masks still allow them to act with their faces during the intense moments! You get to see the fear in this guy’s eyes in the moment he realizes what’s about to happen to him.

Nobody’s credits list a whopping 35 names as “stunt performers.” (And that’s not including the actors credited as “stunt double.”)

For comparison, The Adam Project has 9 credited stunt actors. No surprise, then, that all the “generic bad guys” wear helmets. (Not that they get to do much “stunt” work in the moments before they get vaporized into flashing bloodless PG-13 approved CGI dust. Not only does the movie not let you see bad guys’ faces react after they get shot, but it doesn’t even want to let you watch their bodies collapse to the ground.)

By the way, since it’s the measuring stick that all movies get measured against these days, John Wick credits 59 stunt players. (Again, this is separate and in addition to the tally of “stunt doubles,” which is a different credit.)  The John Wick sequels each credit around a hundred stunt performers (John Wick 2 credits 103, John Wick 3 credits 94, John Wick 4 credits 100.)

The decision to cover everyone’s heads with face-concealing helmets can be a stylistic choice -- the Star Wars franchise showcases many of these, including of course the iconic stormtrooper, among many others. However, more and more, it feels like this not a creative design choice, but a practical one.

Movies are a product of human labor and talent, and that costs money. Like a lot of the things involved in making a good movie, hiring a lot of different stunt actors isn’t easy. But I always appreciate the movies that are willing to make the effort, because when audiences see it on screen, they can tell the difference.

#movies #jackie chan #stunts #john wick #nobody

[kimetsu-chan]

fic request for the aftermath of the war (Milo death au:3), like how is everyone adjusting to Milo being gone along with so many others? (you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to:3)

~Character’s Reactions to Milo’s Death~

A/N: yall, I think my wife wants to kill me ;-;

The only ocs that will be featured in this are Yuna, Zeno, Michio, and ofc, Milo, but she ded-

this was written as headcanons bc Larz said that was okay :3

TWs ⚠️: death(obvi), grief, loss of loved one, crying, it’s just sad bro ;-;

First and foremost, Michio would undoubtedly be the one hurting the most.

That was his sister, the person closest to him for his entire life, even if he hadn’t seen her for half of it.

The news of her death was hard on him, and not seeing her smile every day was even harder.

He missed his sister so badly, he had only just gotten her back and she had been ripped away from her all too soon.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair at all.

He didn’t want to give Milo that bow only for it to be handed back to him, years later.

Of course, Michio’s best friend was there for him during this time.

And although he was hurting too, Zeno would always put priority on Michio.

He was absolutely astonished he was offered to keep something of hers, he would have assumed others would get top priority.

And that is why he declined anything of hers.

Yes, he wanted something to remember her by, but he didn’t want to rob those precious items from people who were closer to her.

So he settled on perfecting his painting skills and painting portrait after portrait of her to preserve her memory.

Milo was such an overwhelmingly loved person, and her death brought a noticeable drop in a lot of people’s moods.

Especially Yuna’s

She tried so hard to keep her usual smile on, since she knew it would have been what Milo wanted

But it was hard

She found herself talking less and keeping to herself more.

She saw Milo as a close friend, someone to look up to, a daughter.

She had the honors of keeping Milo’s sword, what was preserved of it anyways.

The odd, purple sword and sheathe was the heirloom of the Tomioka family for years and years to come.

Tanjiro would often stare at it, hung on the wall, whenever he and his sister would come to visit his late girlfriend’s found parents.

It made him sad, she was too young.

He also couldn’t help but feel self-pity

He had lost a lot of people, why did he have to loose her too?

They had just finally realized their feelings for each other, and it was all gone now, never to be seen again.

He was permitted to keep the haori Milo always wore

When it was presented to him, he couldn’t help but cry

He missed her

He missed her so bad, how was he supposed to live the rest of his life without her?

Milo’s death brought devastation and sadness

But thanks to many people, her memory was kept safely protected through stories, art, and fond memories.

A/N: my eyeballs started leaking when I wrote this ;-;

#demon slayer #oc #hehehe #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny oc #kny ocs #kny oc x canon #kimetsu no yaiba oc #demon slayer oc #milo suzuki #tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro kamado #demon slayer tanjiro #kny tanjirou #kamado tanjiro #yuna handa #michio suzuki #tw death #tw character death #tw loss of a loved one #tw loss #tw crying

[hanjisick]

seashells.

› genre: yandere!mermaid jeongin x reader au, angst/fluff

› description: jeongin lives a lonely life after dying and becoming a mermaid, until he meets you.

› word count: 5.3k

› warnings: murder, suicide, drowning, eating humans??, family problems

› note: this is my first au :) i hope you guys enjoy it !!!

jeongin first caught a glimpse of you on the vacant sand of his beach.

he wasn’t quite sure what you were up to, but he could sense a playful nature in you, one that he didn’t recognize in more than a handful of young humans. no matter how enticing you were, or how curious his young mind was, he didn’t dare to go near humans.

so instead, he gawked at you from afar as you busied yourself with compiling shells.

he lingered until you took off just after sunset, turning his attention to the water below him, sinking back into the sea.

jeongin he chose to be alone rather than with other merfolk, staying just below sea level to bask in the warm sun. his mind was often blank, swimming aimlessly until nightfall when he swam to the abandoned shore to stare at the stars.

as jeongin made his way to the shore, his thoughts drifted back to the human that he had studied earlier.

a smile lit up on his face as he noticed a beautiful seashell. you had left a few behind.

hardly any humans ever came to this beach. it was concealed by a forest just behind it. beyond that forest was a small village, far away from most other civilizations. the place that he had grown up in.

why had you wandered down here? would you be back?

he had hoped so. he barely got the chance to watch humans anymore.

jeongin held the shell up to his ear and listened to the sound of the waves crashing.

there were more shells. sleep could wait.

he spent the next hour obtaining all the shells on the coast into a pile, hoping that you would come back to see it before high tide and be happy.

the thought of your joy was what drifted him off to sleep under the waves with a grin on his face.

once he had woken up from his slumber, he swam back to his rock, bathing in the sun until he heard the distant sound of soft footsteps.

he could sense that it was you.

everything had worked out perfectly. he wished he could see the expression on your face as you picked up the shells he found for you, studying each one closely.

jeongin watched you with a fond smile. this time you had brought a towel and a book to read.

he had lots of questions that he wanted to ask you, but it would be foolish to talk to you.

why were you spending your whole day out here?

once again, you had left at dusk.

this became a routine very shortly. jeongin would collect seashells just before sleeping, then make his way to his rock to sunbathe until he could watch you with a smile.

he became overwhelmingly fond of you.

the previous night, he had a difficult time collecting seashells for you. he had been running out lately, so he had to travel far along the beach to bring more for you.

and now, he was being shaken awake, looking up at a worried girl.

his heart sank. he must’ve slept in too long. it was unlike him to do so.

“are you okay? are you hurt?”

his lips pressed together, his heart pounding. not only from the adrenaline of being caught but god, you were stunning.

you hadn’t noticed his tail under the water. if he tried hard, he could get away with you still thinking he was human.

he fought the urge to stay in your arms and speak to you, knowing the consequences.

“your face was underwater! you were gonna drown! what are you doing?”

he peeled himself away and slipped back into the sea, tears brimming his eyes as he swam away from the lovely person he had been yearning to meet for weeks.

unknowingly to him, you dove into the ocean, determined to save the stupid boy who probably wanted to drown himself.

you wouldn’t let him die.

jeongin felt arms around his torso bringing him back up to the surface. his eyes widened, not expecting you to chase him.

you tugged him back to the shore, holding him close to not let him get away again.

your eyes were squeezed shut, trying to spit out the taste of salt in your mouth as you hauled him onto the sand.

jeongin couldn’t do anything to stop you anymore.

he was frozen as you opened your eyes, your jaw dropping from the shock.

“there’s no way,” your shock turned into an amused grin, “there’s no way you’re real!“

you squatted down next to him, “can you speak? i’m y/n.” you made funny gestures at him, convinced that he didn’t know what you were saying.

he raised an eyebrow at your motions, “i’m jeongin.”

the mermaid could speak?

“but i can’t be in the air for this long. can i go back in the water?”

you paused before nodding, tugging on his heavy body once again.

once he was submerged in water once again, you sat in the waves with him, your clothes sticking to you with sand all over your body.

“i’m y/n, do you wanna be friends?” you reached out your hand, hoping that he’d shake it.

confused, he stared at your hand before giving you a high-five, “yes.”

you let out a loud giggle, one that was music to jeongin’s ears. he would have to make you laugh like that more.

“i have so many questions for you.”

“i have so many for you too!” he interrupted you, “what do you do with all the seashells i give to you? why do you come here every day to read and watch the sunset? what’s it like in the village? do you get sunburnt?”

“you’re the one making the piles of seashells?”

he nodded his head, still waiting eagerly for your answers.

“i put the seashells on my dresser in my room. i think the ocean is very pretty and i don’t like my family, so i come here. right now i’m reading,” your eyes darted around to find the book that you left stranded, gasping at the waves drifting it away from the beach.

“my book!” you rose to your feet, sprinting to save it.

you tripped over the waves pathetically, getting wet for the second time today.

jeongin laughed out loud at your fall, able to catch up to the book almost immediately.

he swam back to you with the book just as you were getting up and brushing the sand off of your legs.

“thank you,” you puffed as you grabbed the soggy book from his hands.

his hands felt sparks when they touched yours, a giddy feeling building up in his chest.

jeongin swam back to the original spot as you found a dry place to put the book. you met him there, laying on the hot sand with a smile on your face.

“there’s no way you’re real.”

“there’s no way you know i’m real.”

after that, you both sat in silence for a while, staring at the late afternoon clouds in the sky in deep thought. the cool ocean breeze soothed the beating sun on your skin.

jeongin’s eyes closed, his face almost completely submerged in the water, taking in the moment. his smile hadn’t faded the entire day until this point, and you could tell he was drifting into sleep.

you were the first to break the silence. “how do you pee?”

the topic made him turn to look at you, a chuckle rising in his throat.

“just like a fish.”

“just in the middle of the ocean? gross.”

“the ocean cleans itself. other animals eat it.” jeongin tried desperately to hold in his laughter as your face wrinkled in disgust.

“what do you eat?”

“seaweed.”

“gross. have you had human food?”

“of course i have!”

“what’s your favorite food?”

“i miss eating bread.”

your face lit up, “we have lots of bread! my family runs a bakery!”

“you’ve got to bring me some!”

“i owe it to you for all the seashells,” you ruffled his wet hair with a smile.

a light blush dusted across his face at the touch, his heart jumping into his throat.

the sun was beginning to set, and he finally got to watch it with you by his side.

“you’ll be back tomorrow, yeah?” you questioned, “i want to keep talking to you. i don’t have too many friends in the village.”

“of course. i’ve always been here.”

his hand hesitantly reached for yours, just brushing over the top of it.

immediately you pulled away, unknowingly making jeongin’s heart sink.

“i should get going. my mom will get upset if i stay out any later.”

“alright,” he pouted, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

he sunk back into the desolated sea after you quickly left, trying to find more seashells for tomorrow.

jeongin let the ocean carry his tears away. he shouldn’t be so attached to you already. it would never work out.

you were destined to be with a human.

jeongin woke up on the shore once again, earlier than yesterday. you weren’t quite there yet.

according to your routine, you should show up a little before high tide.

that’s exactly what he did. he sensed your familiar footsteps, but dread ran through his body as he realized that you weren’t alone. panicked, he looked over in your direction to see his worst nightmare.

your hand was intertwined with a human boy.

in shock, he stared with his mouth open, the pain quickly spreading throughout his body. he plunged into the water to scream in agony. jeongin hadn’t felt this amount of feeling since before he had become a merman.

“jeongin!” he heard your terrible, angelic voice from above the water, “i’m here!“

“i promise he’s a real mermaid! i promise i saw him! just wait until he swims up. see? he left shells for me!”

“i brought you bread like you asked!”

he curled around himself, the ocean enclosing around him like a blanket of comfort as he listened to you try to assure your boyfriend that he was there.

no wonder you showed no signs of interest in him. he was making a fool out of himself the whole time.

“we should just go. he’s probably swimming somewhere else.” the man didn’t believe you, trying to tug you away from the shore.

reluctantly, you obeyed him, but not before hurling the roll of bread into the ocean, watching it sink below.

“you just wasted perfectly good bread, y/n!”

“he’ll eat it.”

and just like that, you were gone with the man.

his existence made him feel sick. if he wasn’t there, would you fall for him instead? he pondered the question, watching the bread float on the shore with tear-stained cheeks.

the next morning, you had arrived alone, determined to see jeongin again.

“i’m here! are you here? please be here,” you shouted, startling him awake. he had slept in again. which could’ve been risky.

sensing that nobody was around, he swam towards you, his head exploding above the water.

“where were you yesterday?”

all he wanted to focus on was the bread in between your fingers. he reached out and grabbed it with a mischievous grin, shoving it into his mouth.

he closed his eyes in pleasure, savoring it in his mouth.

“that was so good!”

“you never answered my question! i brought my boyfriend. it was embarrassing.”

jeongin scowled, loathing the conversation about that dreadful guy.

“about that,” he lied right through his teeth, trying to make up an alibi, “i can only talk to one person at a time. it’s too dangerous to talk in pairs.”

surprisingly, the lie made sense, despite it not technically being a rule, “if there’s only one person, they’ll just be seen as delusional. that’s why.”

you easily bought the justification, leaning down to ruffle his unkempt hair again. “i did seem delusional. good job.”

jeongin tried to push down his feelings, teeth clenching as he dunked his head back into the water to breathe. damn you for your stupid touches.

the day was long and unbearable for jeongin. he couldn’t touch you or be too close to you.

it was all because of your boyfriend. everything was going wonderfully until he had shown up.

“i can’t wait for you to meet him. i’m sure you two will get along, he’s just the sweetest boy. kind of like you!”

at nightfall, he was too sour to compile shells for you. instead, he dwelled right where you had left him, at the shore.

the waves wrecked onto his body.

the sea used to be tranquil, engulfing him in a warm hug and protecting him from the stressful world in the village that he once lived.

but now, all it did was hold him back from you.

jeongin wallowed in his silent misery, the moonlight glowing on the dark sea that surrounded him.

he flinched at the sudden rustling leaves and snapping twigs, diving back into the deep water. he sensed a human.

it was no other than the man that made him see green with jealousy.

his head popped out of the water, making himself known.

the boy let out a yelp at his presence, jumping back. “hello? who are you?”

jeongin stayed silent, creeping closer to the shore. his vision was hazy, he could feel his blood pumping through his veins.

the closer he got, the more adrenaline he felt, especially as your boyfriend followed, getting close enough to pull him into the water by his legs.

his screams were muffled as jeongin pulled him under, all thoughts flying out the window as he held down his thrashing body.

all he needed to do was keep him under until he stopped breathing. then it was over. you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore.

tears fell down jeongin’s cheeks in an endless stream as he watched the man battle to hold his breath.

“i’m sorry,” he uttered, though he knew that the boy couldn’t hear him over the bubbles, “i’m sorry. just hold on a bit longer.”

jeongin knew it all too well. he understood what it felt like to drown. by now, his chest must be on fire, his heartbeat must be rushing through his ears. he was confused and disoriented, he couldn’t see or hear anything around him.

it was painful to watch his body finally fight against him, taking in a breath of salty water only to cough it out and lose even more precious air.

he was still kicking, but it would stop soon. nausea, the throbbing, the coldness, and then his life. it would all stop.

after his last attempt at shoving jeongin away, his world fell silent. he was dead.

what would he do now? how would he get rid of the body?

if he didn’t get it out of the sea, he would surely transform into a siren from how tragic his death must’ve been for him. but if jeongin hauled his body out, you would find him in the morning.

“jeongin,” papas voice was stern, shaking a bronze dagger in his hand, “with how much you love the sea, i wouldn’t be surprised for you to become a sailor one day.”

“in the case that you come across a siren, resist the song. when you feel yourself slipping, attack them with bronze. it will kill them. if you don’t, they’ll eat your flesh.”

“why do they eat you?” the young boy asked, curious about the stories that papa always had to tell.

“if they kill you and leave you in the sea, you’ll become a siren as well.“

jeongin hesitated, staring at the lifeless body in his arms before leaning down and nibbling the flesh.

he tried to tear it. but alas, his teeth weren’t as sharp as a siren. he was a mermaid. he died in peace.

the salty skin was repulsing, and he wouldn’t be able to eat the corpse even if he wanted to. he knew where he needed to go.

a siren’s cave. the place where all the sailors in the area went missing at sea after hearing the beautiful voice of lee minho.

his teeth were as sharp as needles. his tail was silver and slick, not a sole scale to be found. his skin was a grey color with a blue hue.

“minho?” he wriggled into the dark cave hesitantly, hauling the body behind him.

“it’s jeongin! i need your help!”

“look who finally came back below the sea! i’m so glad you’re back,” he closed his eyes as minho pinched his cheeks with a grin, “what do you need from your elder?”

minho had been this way since before he had become a siren, always babying jeongin and giving in to his every wish.

it wasn’t common for sirens to get along with anybody, much fewer mermaids, but this friendship was an exception.

“i assume it has to do with the dead body in your hands? i’m curious to know. tell me everything. i can smell love in your heart.”

minho listened intently to the tale of the seashell girl from above, appearing from the exact village that the two had once lived in.

jeongin knew he wouldn’t tell a soul, and that he would never judge the decision. after all, minho had killed countless humans.

“you know i love free meals,” his sharp grin gave him goosebumps, “anytime a boy causes you and your girl trouble, just assassinate them, yeah?”

with a gulp, jeongin nodded, offering the body to minho to feast on.

right when he was about to slither away back into the darkness of his cave to eat his dinner, jeongin pulled his wrist. “can i watch?”

“you’re a sick boy, yang jeongin.”

minho tore him to pieces in front of him without hesitation, the red blood fading into the seawater until he was devoured to the bone.

“he’s gone,” you crumbled in front of him, “he’s gone, jeongin.”

all he cared about was that you were in his arms, what a delightful feeling. you wouldn’t have done this if he was still there, would you?

“i don’t think he’s coming back. it’s not like him to do this.”

“did he flee to another village with a different girl? i’m sure i saw him and another on a horse in the night,” you couldn’t see his smile as you dug your head into his neck, your tears falling down his chest even harder now.

he felt a stabbing pain in his chest, unable to breathe from staying above the water for so long. but he didn’t mind, he would suffocate for you.

his vision began to blur as his grasp on you loosened.

“jeongin!” you shoved his head back into the ocean as he took gasps of water.

“don’t kill yourself to comfort me!”

he gave you a playful grin through the discomfort before hoisting his head above.

“i’d do anything for you.” it was no lie. he could feel himself slowly losing to madness.

he gathered you back in his arms, cursing the universe for not letting the two of you be closer together without consequences.

“did you really see him?”

“i did. we can sense things a lot better than humans can.”

his fingers, the same ones that pinned your lover down to his death just nights ago, traveled up and down your arm soothingly, stopping every few moments to take in the seawater.

your hands ran across his pale blue scales, “thank you for being honest. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his chest swelled with pride and joy, eyes glancing up to gaze at the sun set beyond the seemingly endless ocean. “look.”

sunsets became very bittersweet for him. they were another glorious part of nature, something that he now got to admire with you. but it also meant that you would have to leave his arms afterward.

“don’t leave,” jeongin murmured, clutching you tighter.

“i don’t want to, it’s lonely back at home now.” you looked up to give him a weak smile, a golden hue on your complexion from the sun.

you pushed him away lightly, “go back under. you’re gonna start choking again.”

that didn’t matter in the slightest to jeongin. especially if it was in your arms. was it too early for him to begin flirting?

he slipped back into the bitter water.

you stood up to brush the sand off of your body.

“i’ll be waiting for your shells,” you leaned down to ruffle his hair with a sad smile, “thank you innie.”

once you were gone, he let out a squeal, his face scrunching with joy. he would find you the most exquisite shells in the world for tomorrow.

gradually, your routine went back to normal as you got over the heartbreak.

“i brought you two pieces of banana bread,” he didn’t hesitate to yank both out of your hands.

as the two of you chatted, he recognized that your smile wasn’t as radiant today. “what happened?”

“what do you mean?”

“something is wrong. did someone make you upset?”

“you know me so well, jeongin. sometimes i hate it.”

“talk to me. i can’t tell anyone, can i?”

“your mermaid friends might judge me.”

“you think i have friends when i spend all my time with you?”

“good point.”

jeongin and you had gotten into the pattern of a particular sitting position whilst you babbled to him.

he would lay across your thighs just above the water, his head floating until he needed to breathe.

once he had laid down, you took in a shaky breath, and he knew that it wouldn’t be good.

you began to talk about your life inside the village. specifically your family.

in the past year, your father's bakery had been declining in business. people didn’t care for bread and pastries much anymore and weren’t able to pay the money they needed to survive.

because of this, your parents had been overwhelmingly stressed and took it out on you most of the time.

you came to the ocean to avoid them.

jeongin’s face contorted in bitterness as you described the harsh words they spoke to you this morning just before you had left.

how could they think such things about his beloved human? how could he make them go away again?

your lover had come to him voluntarily, but he was sure that your parents wouldn’t come down to the sea.

even so, would he be strong enough to hold them down?

no, he didn’t need to think, he needed to listen to your stories.

tears dripped down onto his shoulders, rolling down into the waves.

he stretched his arm up to brush them away with his thumb.

“it’ll all be okay. i’m sure you’ll have more customers soon. they’ll all realize how amazing your bread really is.” jeongin showed your favorite fox smile.

“thank you. i hope they will.”

you assured him that it wasn’t all that terrible. they still adored you, it made sense that they were upset, that they weren’t always bad parents.

he didn’t believe any of it. anybody who made you cry was meant to disappear. but he never told you any of this.

jeongin would have to feed them all to minho.

minho. minho could help him.

he ushered you away at sunset, something way out of his character, bewildering you as to why he wasn’t pleading for you to stay as usual.

“i could help.”

“really? how?”

“do you know what i am?”

“a siren.”

“are you a fucking idiot, kid? what do sirens do?”

“kill people?”

“and?”

it took jeongin a minute, pausing in thought. what was minho trying to tell him?

with an annoyed puff, minho continued. “do you know how many sailors i could lure into my grasp in this shape? of course not, i shape-shift into an attractive girl. do you understand now?”

“you’re gonna become an attractive girl?”

“i’m gonna shapeshift into a human and kill them.”

“but i want to kill them.”

“you’ve acquired a fondness for blood, haven’t you? i’ll coax them into the sea and you can kill them.“

jeongin nodded frantically, “but we have to hurry before sunrise. i don’t want y/n seeing any of this.”

“and if she does?”

“she’ll hate me.”

“you could always just drown her.”

his eyebrows furrowed, glaring daggers into the siren, “how could you say that? i would never kill her. the only reason i’m doing this is so she doesn’t suffer anymore.”

“woah, settle down baby fox. it was just an idea.”

seeing humans under minho’s spell was baffling. they become nothing less than zombies, empty shells of mortal beings.

the couple crept into the cold water, waiting for their demise in submission to the siren’s eerie hymn. their will was long gone, stripped away the instant that their ears tuned in to the music, wiping their brain of thoughts.

it was child’s play to take away their lives. jeongin didn’t have to think as he thrust the heads under, they didn’t even struggle to hold their breath. pitiful.

hauling the dead bodies way below the ocean was the only troublesome part.

none of it mattered, though. it was all for you. each time he had doubts in his mind, he reminded himself of that.

watching minho consume them with a satisfied smirk, it was all for you.

when he went to sleep at sunrise, reflecting on the drowned man who had the same eyes as you, it was all for you.

“where the fuck is she, minho? it’s been two fucking weeks!”

minho offered a shrug in response, “no clue.”

each day that you hadn’t shown up, jeongin grew more concerned. the concern became anger, which became desperation.

“become a human again! go find her and bring her back to me! now!” he wailed, banging his fists onto any available object he could find in the cave.

“i wouldn’t be surprised if she’s dead or moved to another village.”

“what the fuck do you mean by that?”

“you killed her boyfriend and her family. use your goddamn thinking skills. she’s probably traumatized out of her mind, jeongin.”

“no she isn’t! she has me! i’m all that she needs! she would just come talk to me and i’d comfort her and—“

“her boyfriend supposedly fleeing the village is a lot different than her family abandoning her and nowhere to be found.”

as much as jeongin didn’t want to confess it, he knew that minho was right. he hadn’t thought about it that way.

“but if you knew that, why didn’t you tell me?”

“was hungry.”

“well then fuck you!” he stormed out of his cave, albeit rather childishly.

he needed to make it back to the surface before the morning, or else he might miss an opportunity of catching sight of you.

jeongin never slept anymore. he settled at the shore, silently waiting for you to appear, hardly minding if anybody saw him. he could just eradicate them if they got too near.

every instant that he wasn’t with you, it felt like he was suffocating. he was going crazy.

after a few weeks, he refused to visit even minho, knowing that even a small snide remark of his would make jeongin snap and attempt to kill him.

he began to shatter seashells. they made him furious. perhaps the seashells weren’t pretty enough and drove you away.

he never thought he’d feel peace again.

in the distance, jeongin heard a splash into the water.

instantly he raced towards the noise, his heart in his throat as he hoped— god, he hoped that it was you.

“y/n!” he shouted out, feeling your presence, unable to dismiss the accumulating terror in his chest.

nothing felt right. the summer had left long ago, the cold breeze of december chilling the ocean. nobody would voluntarily jump in. especially from a cliff into deep water.

he swam as fast as he could towards you. jeongin knew that if you were in the water for too long in this weather, you’d lose consciousness and drown. it was too familiar.

jeongin had always loved the water. he would beg for his father to bring him down to the ocean when he was younger, and it became his primary hang-out spot once he was old enough to go on his own.

often, his best friends joined him. he had a tight-knit friend group. seven young boys in the village with too much energy. they would play games throughout summer, then stay indoors in the harsh winter months.

“minho, do you want to sneak out?”

“are you insane? it’s freezing outside! where would we even go?”

“the beach,” jeongin presented his puppy eyes to the slightly older teen boy, “and it’s almost my birthday.”

he came to minho of all people because he knew that he could never resist. and just like jeongin presumed, he didn’t.

“do you wanna play hide and seek?”

after enough convincing, he began to count.

that’s how jeongin ended up in the freezing january water.

he didn’t feel panicked at first. his eyes opened to watch the light of the surface grow farther and farther away as he slipped into the darkness.

it was relaxing, something he had always admired about the water. the sensation of an endless abyss enclosing him.

then his lungs began to fight against him, begging him to go up to the surface. he didn’t have to resist for long, feeling his body begin to give out.

“jeongin!” he didn’t expect a sobbing minho to be the last thing he saw, trying to shake him back into consciousness.

the boy had walked right into his death but didn’t expect his friend to follow him.

minho watched as his friend succumbed to the water, trying his hardest to fight the cold and get both of their dying bodies back to the shore. but he lost.

the waves had carried them deep into the sea, where they slowly transformed into their current forms.

minho’s tragic death had turned him into a monster. jeongin’s peaceful death had made him beautiful and magical.

thankfully, his body had adapted to the temperature of the winter water, so he didn’t have to worry about anything but getting you to the air.

his hands firmly gripped your sides, lifting you to the surface.

jeongin got there quick enough.

“put me down!” you thrashed, “put me fucking down!”

he had never seen you angry like this. he despised it.

trying to tune out your protests, he carried you back onto the shore.

you were pale and shivering. your pulse was fast, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“hang in there y/n! you’ll be okay!”

everything in the world was working against him. the cool breeze and water weren’t helping and he had no legs to carry you anywhere warm and safe.

he gathered your body in his arms, trying to keep you warm with his body heat, but he knew that it wouldn’t last long.

you were going to die. right here. right in front of him.

jeongin did the only thing he knew how to do, tugging you into the water with him.

if you couldn’t live as a human, you would live with him eternally, under the sea.

masterlist. / @hanjisick

#skz #skz yandere #yandere stray kids #stray kids #yandere skz #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #yang jeongin #yang jeongin imagine #yang jeongin fanfic #jeongin skz #yang jeongin au #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin angst #skz mermaid au #jeongin mermaid au

[teabutmakeitazure]

The Past and The Future

>Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

>Word count: 2.6k

Who knew that those eyes and that sweet voice could be found again?

Warmth should not be this intoxicating. It is a mere by-product of the blood that flows through a living being’s body - a human’s body - yet the mere presence of such a seemingly trivial trait is utterly spellbinding to the kabukimono. It relaxes his body and lulls him into a sense of safety and security, a feeling that he doesn’t quite feel familiar with but does not refuse.

As the young eccentric lays on warm grass with his head in the lap of a woman, he is unable to repudiate the urge to simply melt into her. His entire body remains lax, warm sunlight falling onto his delicate features. The hair that falls onto his closed eyes is brushed aside by her warm hand which then slips to affectionately cup his cheek.

The action causes him to stir, one eye opening to see a youthful face smiling down at him. “Please, have some rest,” she requests. “You are welcome to sleep like this. You must be tired. This is the least I can do for a young boy far from home.”

Ah, home. The kabukimono wishes that he could make this comfortable warmth his home. Such an inviting nature and soothing voice. When the woman puts her hand over his eyes, the kabukimono yields to the gentleness of her touch and rests for the entire afternoon.

-

Her hand on top of his head. That is a new kind of touch that the kabukimono seeks. He had been fortunate to receive it the other day when he helped the woman with carrying a bucket of water to her home and has made it his new mission to experience it again.

Today, he brings a basket full of fruits that he had picked on his way back from a walk with his fellow blacksmiths. The fruits are ripe and taste tested, so all the young man has to do now is deliver them to her and patiently wait for her to place her hand on top of his head.

Once at her residence, the kabukimono presents her the basket and carefully watches how her curious expression turns into a surprised one. His eyes widen from awe as he sees how she places the basket beside her feet and reaches to grab his face. Two warm hands lovingly cradle his face in their palms, thumbs rubbing the skin under his eyes.

He is absolutely enchanted by how praises fall from her lips, compliments filling the sentences. When her hand moves to the top of his head, he finds his cheeks to be overwhelmingly cold. His previous agenda is now unimportant despite having been fulfilled, for he leans into the touch of her other hand that still affectionately holds his face.

Warm. The woman is so very warm.

-

It’s become a well-known joke among the residents that the kabukimono chases after the woman’s praise. Any sort of compliment or applause is lapped up like a thirsty man in a desert, but all that the kabukimono seeks is her warmth. Warmth that may be physical, verbal or emotional, he does not care.

When his newest creation is unveiled, a decorative dagger, the kabukimono rushes to give it to the woman. Admiration and appreciation spill from her lips, causing a soft blush on the eccentric’s cheeks. He is later sent home with a kiss on the forehead and his hair ruffled into the appearance of a birdnest.

Oddly enough, he does not mind when weeks later he hears of the woman’s engagement. The kabukimono is certain that she will never abandon him and that her affection and warmth flows in excess for him. The sort of fondness he harbours for the woman is almost tangible, just a few inches away from his fingertips that itch to graze it.

So when her wedding bells chime, all he does is admire the sight of her in traditional wedding attire. During the hours that her husband was away for fishing, he would frequently seek out her company, bringing fruits and trinkets, anything he could get his hands on.

For each and every time he shows up at her doorstep, he is rewarded with a pat on the head and sometimes a flick to the forehead if he comes bearing gifts. The woman invites the kabukimono for tea, and shoos him off when it starts to get dark but always with a home-cooked meal of course.

The neighbours chatter away about his persistent appearances, calling it a sort of motherly love for the young eccentric. Perhaps it is motherly love, a feeling so domestic that the kabukimono keeps returning without fail.

-

Eyes widened in awe, his hand rests on the woman’s swollen stomach. Her husband standing next to her flashes the kabukimono a soft smile, and he finds himself returning the expression. Her stomach has finally started to show, the heart beating inside evident in how the eccentric starts thinking of her as two people instead of one.

Will it be a boy? A girl? Will the byproduct of her and this man’s love result in a healthy birth? He sure does hope so. Maybe the child will have her beautiful, loving eyes. The child might inherit her soft voice, the overwhelming warmth in her tone signifying the fact that the two are mother and child.

The woman gives another pat to the kabukimono’s head, and he starts silently hoping to be able to see her happy with her child.

-

Niwa has fled and the kabukimono has failed in getting the Shogun’s aid for the predicament that Tatarasuna is in. As the kabukimono passes by her domestic household, he briefly stops for a visit before he confronts the Fontaine engineer Escher. Eyes softening at the sight of the little human bundled in the woman’s arms, he reaches and caresses the young one’s cheek.

“I haven’t decided on a name yet,” she admits. “Do you have any ideas?”

All that swirls inside the wandering eccentric’s mind is his dear friend Niwa’s betrayal and the inevitability of what he must do. All he does is shake his head.

“If I do happen to think of one, I’ll tell you.”

She smiles at his words, sending him off with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

-

After all that he had witnessed, Tatarasuna is long behind him now. The wandering eccentric watches with a soft smile how the young boy dances around in the field of flowers. When he skips up to him, he asks the eccentric if he likes the flower he picked.

Mirroring the actions of a woman he wishes to see again, he pats the young boy’s hair while he compliments the flower he put in his hair.

-

Fire.

That’s all that’s around him at this very moment.

Another betrayal lays in front of him, a doll in his lifeless hand, but the eccentric’s eyes remain planted on the lavender melons being engulfed by the flames before him. Laying his eyes on him is too painful, so he remains with the company of his tears and smoke and waits. Waits.

How long will it take for the fire to engulf him? How long till the smell of burning flesh accompanies the smell of heavy smoke?

An image of a fond memory flashes in front of his eyes, and the eccentric’s eyes widen as more tears spill out. The woman and her daughter are already dead as well, aren’t they? How many more humans will betray him if he keeps going on?

Just how many more?

He wishes he had never been born. Maybe if he had never existed to begin with, he would not have to go through this.

Before the fires feast on the entire house, the eccentric walks out, unscathed. He pulls his hat closer to his head and looks at the path ahead with disdain and challenge, determined to cleanse any remaining human emotion from his being.

From today onwards, the wandering eccentric will be known as Kunikuzushi.

-

Being immortal is sometimes a cruel joke. Inazuman soils have not changed for centuries. The air feels the same as well as the general serene atmosphere.

The Balladeer sighs. The stench of the delusion factory ingrained into his mind as he wanders through the Inazuman countryside. His mind races and thoughts come flooding back of how that damned fox had the gall to approach him like that.

At least he got the Gnosis. That is all that matters.

Scaramouche’s eyes rake over the grass swaying in the wind. His ears pick up the sound of children laughing, and that is when he realises that a village is up ahead.

Well, his feet brought him here so he might as well pass through before he leaves Inazuma as a whole.

He advances. The breeze blows against him, hand reaching up to steady his hat. Among the gentle song of the wind is the sound of something approaching rapidly, and Scaramouche pauses. Who in the world has the audacity to attack him in broad daylight?

The flying object buzzes by and he moves his head backwards an inch just in time to dodge. His eyes follow the object’s trajectory, hair gently swaying with the wind as his hand remains planted on the edge of his hat.

A ball.

Those damn brats!

Four children, all out of breath, slowly approach the harbinger, but his eyes are trained on the one nearest to him. She has a guarded look on her face, presumably the eldest, and if these kids weren’t so damn young, he would’ve actually taught them a lesson.

“Um sorry mister. I swear we didn’t do it on purpose!”

Scaramouche raises a brow. That’s the go-to excuse for kicking a ball at someone’s face.

“May we please have it back?”

He sighs, already feeling his patience thin away. Gesturing the ball that lies on the ground on his other side, he frowns. “I ain’t stopping ya. Go ahead.”

Before either of them could take a step forward, a loud voice cuts through the air. Its scolding tone makes the Balladeer hiss, the sound of someone running towards them at full speed pausing everyone in their tracks.

“You kids!” The voice shouts, “I told you not to play so far from the village!”

His eyes snap to one of the children as tears start welling up in his eyes. Before a cringing expression could even appear on his face, the source of the screaming had arrived, panting and desperately catching breath before she starts again.

“You absolute buffoons!”

Who calls children buffoons?

“I told you four to not go too far! If this kind man happened to be a bad guy, what would’ve you four done? Huh?!”

The child who was previously tearing up is now sobbing while the one other clearly looks like she’s ready to cry as well. Damnit. This was supposed to be a peaceful walk.

He watches her comfort the crying child, back turned to him as she hoists the boy up into her arms. The girl who had asked for their ball goes to embrace the other girl who’s tearing up, and Scaramouche can’t wait to be able to be back on his merry way.

“All of you,” the girl with the boy in her arms says, “I hope you know what to say.”

In tandem, the four children apologise and in all honesty, Scaramouche had inwardly cringed so hard he got shivers.

“Yeah yeah. Just be careful whose face you’re kicking a ball at,” he says.

Once again, he is barred from advancing when the girl turns to face him. The adult girl looks at him with beautiful, loving eyes. When she speaks again, the overwhelming warmth in her soft voice render’s his muscles unable to move for a few moments.

“I’m incredibly sorry sir,” she says, voice gentle. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll make sure to keep a close eye on these kids now.”

The question on the tip of Scaramouche’s tongue leaves his mouth before he could stop himself. “Are you from Tatarasuna?”

A curious expression overtakes the apologetic one, and she puts the boy down, patting each of them on the back before sending them off without their ball. When the children have ran outside earshot, she turns to the harbinger.

“Sorry. I don’t like to talk about places like Tatarasuna in front of them. Their questions are persistent and-”

“Are you from Tatarasuna?”

His interruption makes her freeze. A glare from the Balladeer and she clears her throat, voicing her reply. “I’m not sure but my grandmother says that my lineage comes from there. Why do you ask, sir?”

Sir… ah. All that she called him was kabukimono. Sir feels more enticing… more appetising.

“Nothing,” he murmurs. “I simply thought I recognised someone.”

“Um wasn’t Tatarasuna habitable long, long ago?” An amused smile curls on her lips and the high and mighty harbinger considers that he should perhaps cup her cheek, feel how soft her lips are under his thumb and make her call him kabukimono again in that warm, melodic voice.

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“Oh… well…”

Ah. Such an innocent expression. How misleading.

“I’ll be on my way now,” he announces. “Be sure to take the ball with you. Oh, and be careful. There’s lots of Fatui activity nearby. Keep the kids safe.”

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t walk away.

But when his feet start carrying him back to where he came from, he pushes down the regret growing with each step and doesn’t even look back to her perplexed expression. All he knows is that immortality has shown him just how persistent, adamant and stubborn the loathsome existence of human emotion is.

-

The Wanderer is back in Inazuma. He is unable to fathom why his idiotic brain had decided to come back to this place full of regrets right after he regained memories of his ‘other’ self. But he’s here. And he can hear children laughing.

As he steps on familiar soil, advancing towards the settlement in his sights, he focuses his ears on the laughing children. The carefree giggles are accompanied by the dull thud of a ball being kicked around, and the wanderer almost sighs at the familiarity of the situation.

However, this time there’s no ball being thrown at his face.

It’s her voice.

Like a serene melody, her laughter echoes in his mind. It’s when he closes his eyes that he realises that he’s stopped walking, standing alone on the path as the grass gently wafts in tandem with the wind’s song.

A few moments pass and the ring of laughter comes closer. Closer and closer, a buzzing, a disturbance, travels through the air and just like before, the ball whizzes past his face, hardly an inch away from the tip of his nose.

The giggles comically come to a halt and he almost chuckles at that.

Opening his eyes, he’s met with four familiar youngsters, the youngest boy tearing up at the wanderer’s drained demeanour.

A familiar pair of beautiful, loving eyes meets his own. The overwhelming warmth in her soft voice catches him off guard when she speaks.

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Please forgive us.” She bows, hair spilling down her shoulders. “It won’t happen again-”

“What’s your name?”

She raises her head, all four of the children watching the exchange while the youngest remains in the embrace of the eldest.

“My name?” The girl straightens up, clearing her throat. “Well…”

“Relax,” he waves a hand. “I’m just a wanderer. If you’re really sorry then you can make it up to me by telling me your name and treating me to some tea.”

The children blink up at him in confusion, but the girl has a familiar gentle smile on her face.

“It’s [Name]. Oh! And you’ll have to come to the village if you want to have tea.”

“Lead the way, [Name].”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #balladeer x reader #wanderer x reader #why does he have four names

[carnalhaus]

nobody asked but i’m expanding on why stat hates sledge so much, plus praline stuff

sledge was a major ass when he was younger. he really only softened up when he met enid, and prior to that he always sort of approached things with aggression. when he knew praline he was not very nice to her because she was frustrating, and he never bothered to look into why she acted the way she did, so he always responded to situations with her with apathy and annoyance. needless to say stat holds a grudge on him when he gets told about all this because he was definitely a big reason as to why praline continued down the path she did.

but more than that, the main reason stat doesn’t like him is because he sees through him. sledge really does care about the girls, very genuinely, i’ll say that right now, but i’d be lying if i said there wasn’t a part of him that wants to make it up to them so he can feel better about himself. he doesn’t even really realize that, it’s not something he’s necessarily conscious of, but stat is very observant and he sees it. sledge feels useless and overwhelmingly guilty and he just wants to do something so he can feel like less of a sad sack.

praline especially will humor him, which makes him feel better. she’ll give him little tasks to do and ask him for things and it’ll make him feel like he’s helping her somehow. truth be told praline is also self destructive and she would absolutely hurt herself just so he could save her to make him feel better (it would not make him feel better, but this is how her brain works). i think it’s because as much as she feels neutral about him and doesn’t think too hard about him, there’s still a part of her that’s perpetually 16 and is still holding out hope that he’ll help her somehow.

in addition to that part, it’s another reason why stat wasn’t super fond of keeping sledge around at first. he knows how praline is, and he doesn’t want her hurting herself or doing crazy shit for him again. she used to do that exact thing when she was younger, mainly because sledge was new and he was the only person in town who wasn’t used to her antics, and she thought maybe he’d give her attention for the shit she pulled. stat thinks he’s a bad influence basically because praline especially is very fragile emotionally, not to mention how sledge sort of enables enid, more on that another day.

nowadays though they’re much less tense with each other i think. at first stat definitely felt very aggressively towards him but now they can at the very least chill out together. stat even enjoys having him around sometimes, even if it’s only because he’s useful. money and extra brawn and whatnot. i think the girls just like having him around cause he always plays good cop when stats being mean (which is often).

#carnalposting #my ocs #stat jeff #sledge #praline

[dreamnotnapss]

Ok ok wait I kinda need some help 😭

I'm trying to write a dnn fic, and I would say that I'm pretty good at getting the dynamics of dnf and snf down, but I am struggling with dreamnap for some reason..

Is there any like.. little things about them that make them them? (besides like 123 and pandas and all that) I just need a better grasp on how they are with each other ig

Thank you 🥂

gotchu anon! hopefully this will be helpful to you :] and hopefully the other dreamnap girlies will agree with what i've put down!

dreamnap have known each other the longest, so they'll be the most familiar with each other's mannerisms. Dream will react in some way and Sapnap will roll his eyes and with a fond smile remark on how he's done that since they were young. Dream will know something so subtle like "if Sapnap's brows are furrowed at this certain angle, then he's thinking. if they're at a slighter different angle, then he's mad" or "Sapnap doesn't mind me hugging him from the back but he hates being hugged from the side" kinda thing, y'know? their boundaries are like second nature to them. they have an overwhelmingly amount of trust for each other

lots of unapologetic and blunt flirting! usually from Sapnap: "Dream is some hot stuff." "leave that in, daddy." "his morning voice is so cute."

also pet names. Sapnap will use pet names the most: "babe," "honey pot," "hot stuff," etc. Dream not as often, but the most significant pet name he'll use is "Pandas." this is very important!

dreamnap are physically rougher with each other than they are with others bc they know the other can handle it. they'll shove each other and not hold back bc Dream is tall and Sapnap is sturdy (unlike George who is, well, petite). they rough house, but they also cuddle. i like to write Sapnap initiating the physical affection most of the time, but irl we've been getting a lot of Dream-initiated physical affection. it seems he likes how small Sapnap is hehe

last thing, dreamnap are mutually ride or die. they're both very loyal to each other bc of how long they've known each other

for instance, Sapnap is very proud to be close to Dream on a relationship level. every time he interacts with Dream, that underlying fact is present. as in, he can push back and he can argue all he wants but underneath, he always respects Dream. nothing he says will go "too far," but if it does, he'll feel immediately guilty and apologize

and Dream just loves Sapnap to an overwhelming degree. he KNOWS Sapnap's loyalty is steadfast and it warms his heart and he gets emotional about it sometimes bc he just loves Sapnap so much

i hope this is helpful !! and if anyone has any corrections or additional input, feel free to add on :)

#dreamnap #i hope it's not too obscure lol #good luck with that fic anon !! and if you'd like feel free to send the link once you're done :] #order up #🍟

[updatebug]

Look all of the Cluster have such an incredible bond with the other members in the cluster and I love how each relationship has a different dynamic while being equally important but Lito and Wolfgang are the ones onscreen right now so guess who I’m gonna be talking about. 

I love how so much of Lito and Wolfgang’s early interactions is literally just them showing up to help the other out of a tight spot and being so unbearably fond of each other and overwhelmingly impressed by the other persons skillset. Because in any other show they would be posturing or trying to blag it and there is nothing, just a completely honest desire to help each other out, and gratitude for being helped out and complete respect for the other person. 

#Cluster #Sense8 #Sensates #August 8 Cluster #Wolfgang #Lito #Lito and Wolfgang #Found Family #Besties #Platonic Soulmates

[mister-eames]

3/? 5. Who made the first move and what were the circumstances?6. How did Eames and Arthur first meet? Are you of the 'Met in the military' boat? I love that scenario personally but I'm also quite fond of the idea that Eames was in the dreamshare business before arthur & met him when arthur was first introduced to dreamshare so maybe arthur was green when it came to the business & wide eyed & eager to learn & didn't have all his defences up yet... & maybe that becomes a point of contention later

5. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Eames is the socially conservative one. In my head at least, he's quite reserved until he's not, and not a born risk-taker - that being said, I imagine Eames makes the first move in a burst of anger/worry/concern. It's a risk he takes because his he's played it safe and now his hand is forced.

Maybe he and Arthur are in a getaway car, speeding away from a job gone south and when it comes to Arthur he's not suave, he's raw and craggy and he's so mad about something and there Arthur is, slouched in the passenger seat, casually typing away at his phone with one hand while the other is bleeding and broken and Eames just can't stop talking. Somehow, Arthur is the one injured but it's Eames who feels like he has an open wound that wont stop festering. They start bickering as soon as the car starts. It grows more heated and eventually Eames sees red, swerves the car and pulls over onto the side of the road. They get out of the car and get real close to each other and start yelling. Fingers are pointed and low-blow insults are hurled, they get physical and start to push and grapple with each other, until Eames takes Arthur by the hips and shoves him hard against the car, pinning him there. He still can't shut up, still in survival mode, and now he's saying things like you're the most irresponsible person I've ever met, look at you, and Arthurs like, that's rich coming from someone like you, and Eames is seething, says, I should have left you behind, and Arthur is like, yeah well why didn't you, asshole, and boom, before you know it their bodies are pressed together and harshly cupping each other by the back of the neck as if they might shake apart otherwise, foreheads pressed together, sharing breath and Eames whispers because I can't, I fucking can't and the Arthur replies, voice shredded, I know, I know because he does know that neither of them ever could, and suddenly they're dropping their gazes at each others lips, inching closer together without realising and ---

6. Okay okay okay as a reader I LOVE 'met in the military AUs', love that sense of history, that connection they share - but I also LOVE the idea they met in different circumstances too. What is so amazing about all these characters and fandom is the different castles we build on the canon breadcrumbs we are given.

It's always stuck out and been very telling to me that Arthur in the film refers to Eames as a thief first, instead of a forger. Like. They're about to attempt Inception, an 'impossible' dreamshare feat and Cobb mentions Eames' name to bring on board. Straight up, Arthur says try someone else, there are plenty of good thieves - not there are plenty of good forgers. To me, that says Eames', when it comes to Arthur in a professional capacity, has been one overwhelmingly who steals either from them or for them, and his capacity as a forger is only an afterthought.

One of my favourite fics ever that illustrates this is The Material Life of the Californian Suburb by eleveninches where Arthur is just a normal dude and returns to a perfectly normal life after the Fischer job and converts Eames into domesticity/legality. It's so fucking sweet and funny and perfectly believable to me. This pretty much aligns with one of my ultimate fave origins for them - I think Eames had dipped his toes into dreamshare before Arthur, but I think they met via Eames's other line of business first. I actually have a WIP about this where Eames stole a PASIV from the Cobbs with an intent to sell it, came across where Arthur is working in a coin laundry and stashed it there momentarily ---and the rest is history etc etc. One day I might finish it 😂

#thanks nonnie now im writing the fic slash ficlet for number five #these are so fun #inception #inception headcanons #arthur x eames

[pre1ude]

@sunrisemuses , sent 👫 for four headcanons about our muses' relationship (for Molly because.. adorable)

1.

I'm truly just using these hc posts to plot out possible meeting points because I hate introductory scenes, so don't mind me doing it again here lmao. I just think these two are deserving of an unhinged first impression of each other. Absolutely batshit. Just throw all logic out the window. Dean and Danny were so well-plotted, Dean's his 'mission', it all makes perfect narrative sense. I want none of that for Molly and Dan. Let them meet in the middle of breaking into the lab. In the middle of battle. While chasing down the same beast. Snooping around the same place. Using their powers at the same time. Anything, literally anything questionable and legally dubious. I am firmly of the belief that no matter that they never met as kids, they're the exact same manner of fucked up on a fundamental level and their brains just function on some 'i am a human experiment' wavelength that DEMANDS their first interaction be them spiderman pointing at each other. "What the fuck" "No YOU what the fuck!" and nothing less.

2.

Danny would have... a few hangups about experiencing Molly's abilities. Completely unrelated to her as a person and the level of trust he has in her at any time, although initially it's worse because he's his usual brand of cautious of course, that's just a him thing. Specfically though, he's cagey about psychic powers that breach the mind and affect the senses, for the fact alone that having his reality altered is something he could go without experiencing. That said, he does bite the bullet at some point. He'd have probably indulged her with a few of his sound tricks and would have asked what she can do, so he's prepared. Suffice to say, he learns to adore the small, funky washes of psychedelic color and fantasy Molly can paint for him. She's a walking talking acid trip and once he grows comfortable with her power, he also grows a fondness for experiencing the world a little bit brighter. If she'll indulge him, of course. He's not as brave about her time-altering abilities though. Not very keen on suffering that sort of maddening confusion.

3.

Daniel would kill for Molly without question. Listen. Yes, he maintains a certain level of decorum and self-control when it comes to violence at all times, Molly's violence included. Vengeance is one thing, carelessness is another; personal safety comes first. They can't leave a trail of viscera after themselves. However. So much of what they've both gone through is steeped in helplessness, lack of agency and suffering abuse since childhood that at this point achieving safety starts to overwhelmingly overlap with a clean-out revenge. Not until every single wretched creature who's ever participated in that experiment is dead and buried could they ever take a deep breath and stop looking over their shoulder. Daniel understands this. This is where he becomes ruthless, regardless of the circumstances. And no, some of these people he's never met nor been harmed by. But Molly has, and that speaks of their intentions more than enough. This is kinhood at the highest degree, you hurt, I hurt. It's mostly his dogged, ride or die royalty at play here, Molly ends up meaning the world to him, but a small part of it, he hates to admit, is a purely selfish need to get back at men and women like Patricia. To substitute her with another and fulfill a revenge fantasy he could never exact on his very own mother.

4.

This has been on my mind for a while: Them sharing a tiny apartment as roommates is the sitcom dream we deserve. Hear me out. This is purely self indulgent since they have wildly different dispositions, Danny isn't very adventurous for example and I know Molly wants to explore, perhaps even travel, so it may not be a long-term arrangement, but I also can't envision him being able to bear just... parting with her?? So, naturally, imagine, if you will, the two most dysfunctional, superpowered young adults living together in a 10 by 7 one bed, one pullout, with an energetic dog, the creakiest pipes ever and no microwave because Danny put foil in there as first manner of business like the rich, clueless dumbdumb he is. The most disastrous situation you could ever fathom, they can't even boil water between the two of them, money's tight after Daniel disowns his mother (so, makes even more sense to share rent), they manage to start beef with the neighbours two weeks in and get banned from two out of three local convenience stores. Unbridled chaos, I tell you. On the plus side, no need to worry about burglars or thieves. They're a household which consists of essentially the two most dangerous creatures in town, so I'm sure whoever fucks around WILL find out.

1+

Daniel's dog ditches him so goddamn fast every time Molly's around. Don't get Bentley wrong, Dan is his person, his rotten soldier, his sweet cheese, he would wipe the earth clean from the scourge of squirrels for him if he were only allowed to indulge his hubris off-leash, but god, dad is a downright stick in the mud. Strict and no fun. Molly is the opposite. So she gets rewarded with a lap full of hyperactive cocker spaniel and so many slobbery balls dropped at her feet. The love is real. He lays on her shoes every time she's got to go. Lovingly shares all the dirt he's just rolled around in. Engages in sad puppydog eyes warfare whenever she's eating. Just pure, unadulterated, slightly gross love.

#➻ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 —《answered.》 #sunrisemuses. #sunrisemuses . molly #i realize a majority of these are suggestions. like. hardly headcanons. #so don't take them as firm facts. i just want a lot for these goobers so i'm laying down my thoughts on them <33 #I LOVE THEM UR HONOR

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 15 - Cain Instinct

Day 15 and still going strong! There's still plenty of coal in this engine! I don't really have a Cain instinct myself, but I do know I like when Kudari and Nobori 'bully' each other. I more often than not write Kudari being the one to be the instigator... and this is no different! Ehehe (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ This is a *teeny tiny* bit spicy, but mostly for the sake of teasing Nobori.

Title: Cain Instinct

Word count: 674

Nobori thought himself to be a fairly normal when it came to his romantic and sexual interests. He didn't need much in order to get excited, but he wasn't falling over himself at the sight of an attractive person. There were, of course, things that riled him up a little easier than others, but he could stay composed with minimal effort and focus.

Sure, he was in love with his twin brother, but it wasn't like he was attracted to Kudari *because* of being his brother or twin. Kudari was vibrant and sweet, while also being the only person to ever give him a challenge in battle. They worked well together, goals almost always on the same tracks, and there was no denying their chemistry. He was deeply lucky that someone so wonderful had returned his feelings, and their familial bond only intensified their connection.

However, lately his twin had discovered something.

Although they were twins, their parents had continuously reminded them both that Nobori was the older brother. Nobori was incredibly formal (overly, his brother would say), and Kudari was incredibly informal, but their parents had been somewhere in the middle. As such, when they were teaching Kudari how to address Nobori (since to them, it was vital he respected his 'older brother') they used what could be considered the default. Kudari had taken to calling him "Nii-san" with a pleased chirp, though he'd pulled out the 'ee' sound for too long at first. None of it mattered to Nobori, Kudari could call him whatever he wanted as long as he got to hear his cute voice addressing him.

But now, Kudari had learned that there were apparently other ways to refer to one's older brother. Nobori wasn't quite sure why this was a topic that had suddenly obtained his twin's interest, but Kudari had been trying out a new one every few days. When he used an overwhelmingly old-fashioned "Anigimi-sama" (which Nobori partially doubted was a real form of address), he'd tweaked his twin's nose, and asked why he wasn't happy with "Nii-san" anymore.

Kudari had laughed in the way that Nobori had long ago fell in love with, and said he *was* happy, but he thought it was fun to try others. That, if Nobori wanted, he could call Kudari different nicknames as well! Nobori didn't have any nicknames for his twin; at least not ones that he would say outloud. My Angel was his favorite, but he'd recently become fond of calling Kudari his Little Star - all in his head, of course.

Even though he told Kudari that he didn't have any nicknames for him, his precious younger brother said he had a few more that he wanted to try out. With a sigh, he'd agreed to give his opinion on the remaining versions of 'older brother' that Kudari had dug up from who knew where.

A week came and went without Kudari using any new forms of address for him. It was a little surprising, since Kudari had said there were more on his list. He was curious to see what other combinations Kudari had found. But, at the same time, he'd begun to miss being addressed as 'Nii-san.' His twin had only been calling him by his name.

Just as he was heaving a sigh at the thought, feeling strangely discouraged, he was suddenly tackled from behind, arms draping over his shoulders. Tugged close to the body behind him, a voice was warmly whispered into his ear "Do you really like it when I call you Nii-san?"

For some reason, the hold, the voice and the words combined to shoot straight to his groin, and he turned red in his fluster. "K-Kudari-!!" he stuttered out, wriggling in his twin's grip as his younger brother tried to pull him close again. Kudari's breathy chuckle caressed his throat causing him to shiver again. Why his body was responding so to such innocuous things baffled him and Kudari pressed against him in his confusion.

"Haha, you're such a bro-con, Nobori."

"Kudari!"

#rs submastober #submastober #blankshipping #Bell fic