#I promise I’ll draw more than just those two in the future

[biscuit-sheep]

Them <3

I think about them too much. I just finished playing the second case (I was on vacation the past couple of days so progress was slowed there and in art)

I was genuinely startled when Kazuma said that. Best mistake I ever made, all worth it for that one line.

Just throwing some other doodles I made. You can tell one was taken earlier in the day when I still had natural light (don’t ask me why my room lights are so orange)

also thinking about doing requests and stuff of AA characters (TGAAC as well but only of those in the first 3 cases so far due to not wanting spoilers)

My random thought I had today was “If anyone asks where I am tell them the ace attorney got me”

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #tgaa #dgs #kazuma asogi #ryunosuke naruhodo #asoryuu #I promise I’ll draw more than just those two in the future #I do quite like Susato and Herlock so I need art for them too #Will make digital art of them soon #Also I really want to make more comic scenarios but I’m bad at coming up with ideas :( #Wilbur’s AA Doodles

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7

A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.

Summary: To be loved is to be changed.

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Chapter 7

In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.

In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.

Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.

It hurt more to know that this was your final day.

You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?

You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.

It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.

“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”

He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.

The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.

'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.

You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.

The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.

It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.

“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"

He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.

“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.

“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.

It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”

“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.

You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.

“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”

You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.

“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”

“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”

He stepped out to you again.

Closer.

His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.

“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?

Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?

That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?

‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’

Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.

It hurt.

Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.

It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.

“I would very much like that.”

-

Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.

The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.

You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.

It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.

You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!

Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.

The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.

This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.

Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.

The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.

It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.

His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?

You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.

Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.

But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.

The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.

The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.

You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.

Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.

A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.

You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.

Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.

But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.

Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.

He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.

Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.

You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.

An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.

“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”

Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.

How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.

“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.

Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.

He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.

“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.

You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.

“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.

-

 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.

Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.

The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.

Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.

“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”

“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.

Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”

You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”

“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.

“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”

Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”

“Henrietta and Duchess.”

“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”

“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”

“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”

“Hey, that’s cute though.”

You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.

Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.

“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”

“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”

You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”

“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”

“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”

“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”

He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.

Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.

“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”

You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.

When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.

“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.

Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”

“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”

“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”

“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.

When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.

You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.

“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”

“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”

“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”

“What is it?”

He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.

Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.

Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.

With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.

You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.

You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-

“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”

“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”

You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”

This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”

“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”

You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.

The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”

“Tell  him the truth.”

Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”

Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”

“How so?”

“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”

“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.

“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”

“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”

You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”

Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”

It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”

“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”

“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.

By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.

It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.

-

A/N:

This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania fanfic #alucard castlevania #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #reader x alucard tepes #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #reader is a witch #half black! reader #mixed race reader #part 7 #witch! reader #alternate universe

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Haruka T1 Cover - Two Breaths Walking

Time to continue my quest of trying to figure out what the connections between the prisoners and their cover songs are! This time, we have a character I'm not super familiar with, but at least a somewhat easy to understand song. Haruka's Trial 1 cover, Two Breaths Walking!

CW Metaphorical stabbing and literal murder, animal cruelty

The easiest connection to draw between the singer of this song and Haruka is the theme of childishness and maturity.

“This is Page 1 of the process of my evolution.”

(Translation)

(The 'process of evolution' would be the process of growing up, maturing and learning. Thus, they're at the start of said process)

“Hey, mama, I found someone I like.” “Congratulations”

“Papa, Mama, Niina…” “Well done.” “I’m going out now.”

(Speaking to one's parents and seeking their validation for their actions is usually a trait associated with children. Note, 'niina' is a way to read '27', so they're speaking to DECO*27... I guess)

The singer finds someone they like, but in their inexperience, they end up accidentally hurting their lover.

The words I just learned become a knife that pierces through you Tearing your life to pieces

The only person I can think of that Haruka hurt accidentally would be his mother, who he distressed by killing all those animals and the girl in search of her attention, as well as stealing her pearl necklace.

[Weakness] You praised me by saying “You’re crazy.” Thank you, I’ll do my best How many more times do I have to do this so I can be human?

[Metamorphosis of the Weak] Haruka:  I felt uneasy about it this whole time… Someone as worthless as me having killed someone to gain attention, and a person who surely had more worth and more of a future than me, at that…

(Note: To clarify, Haruka's mother hurt him a lot more than he hurt her, and Haruka hurt his victims more than his mother, but the only one Haruka hurt accidentally was his mother)

Therefore, weird as it sounds to say it, Haruka would be singing this to his mother, probably.

The ending... is a bit weird if that's the case, admittedly. See, in Two Breaths Walking, after accidentally hurting their lover, the protagonist decides to help them by "kissing" them so they can breathe on their breath.

You’ll live by sucking in my breath from now on Your words have already rusted in the saliva Hey, suck in my breath again now I try to say “I love you,” but Instead I’m living my whole life as a sort of oxygen tank Suck in the words I've spit out and breathe no more

What's happening here, in my opinion, is that the protagonist wants to be so important to their lover, that they cannot be abandoned. Their lover will need them to survive, since they've become their 'oxygen tank'. That's what Two Breaths Walking means, two people who breathe together and are thus inseparable. No matter what the lover tries to say, their words 'rust in the saliva', they can't be heard, because the protagonist has made it impossible for them to separate. Even though, as you'll notice if you think about it, you can't breathe another person's breath; it's carbon dioxide, not oxygen, so the lover would end up suffocated.

It's important to notice, though, the protagonist isn't doing this intentionally. They genuinely think they're helping, that their love is healing the other person, and so they must keep doing what they're doing.

Applied to Haruka, while the kissing imagery gets a bit awkward with the mother thing, we do have the theme of not wanting to be abandoned:

[AKAA] Don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me [...] I will definitely make you love me again [...] Can I be your favorite this time? I will definitely make you love me again

As well as Haruka doing something he thinks will make his mother happy, not realizing that's not quite the case. In this case, that would be killing animals + the girl.

[AKAA] Mommy, look, I’ve done great “There there, my good boy!” I promise to make my dreaMU come true I wasn’t wrong, I wasn’t wrong Please don’t say that I am a loser

Get it? I think it works well enough. Admittedly I am not a big Haruka understander, so if someone has more insight on his possible connections (or any other prisoner's, for that matter), feel free to share!

That's all I have to say for this one. Take care!

#milgram #haruka sakurai #two breaths walking cover #cw animal cruelty #i have two more of these written out #but i might wait a bit to post them i don’t want to spam the tag #i will do all of them eventually however #you will not stop me from being annoying

[sanssouci-sims]

Those of you who have been to my main blog in the past year or so might recognize these familiar faces. The little girl is Karin Fjellvik, a character from the game “My Child Lebensborn” (I call it “MCL” for short), and the woman is Karita Omdahl, my MCL fan character/self-insert and Karin’s adoptive mother. I’ve made a few posts about them both on my main blog as well as my sideblog which specifically focuses on my OC x canon relationships, so take a gander if you’d like to read more about them! 

I’ll probably mention a bit of the game as I talk about them in this post, so minor spoilers ahead!! Also, fair warning if you do decide to check out the actual game for yourself: it’s based on real historical events (specifically having to do with the end of World War 2) and involves prejudice/racism and violence towards a child (among other things). Needless to say, it’s quite emotional, and let’s just say that by the end of my play-through, I wanted to punt quite a few people into the shadow realm because of what they did to my poor daughter. 😭

While MCL was originally set during the aftermath of World War 2, I imagine my sims counterparts live in the modern day. Funnily enough, the developers of MCL are currently working on a sequel which will take place in a more modern setting! I would think the sims versions of Karin and Karita moved to this new place in Willow Creek after they’d gone through similar events that happened in the original game. All they wanted to do was to just... get away from their old town, from Karin’s old school, from everything their cruel neighbors had done to them.

Karin and Karita would start their new lives in this modest but pretty one-story home with a small outdoor area for the two to sit and for Karin to play. In the game, you happen to make contact with Karin (or her male counterpart Klaus)’s biological father, who wires you money to help you move out of town. I imagine Karita used much of that money to pay off this new house. They started with only $200 in simoleons, which was a nod to how you would start off with 200 coins (? - dollars? Or whatever they used in Norway during that time? I don’t think the game actually specified what that actual currency was lmao) in the original game.

As money is tight in their household, Karita knows they’ll need it only for the most important items, and she’s made sure Karin knows that. There are times where Karin wishes she had the newest toys or clothes like the other kids have, and she’ll get upset when she can’t have them. Karita promises she’ll buy them one day for her, just not today. After all, it’s better to be selfless than selfish. Karin recently received a whole mini art studio set for her birthday, and she LOVES it! She plans to create lots of artwork to display in her room, and she even uses it occasionally in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep. She even says she hopes to help her mother earn money by selling her best artwork. 🥰

On certain days of the week, Karita works as a manual laborer as a way to bring in some stable income (I thought this was the closest to some kind of factory work, which is your/the parent’s job in MCL). The catch to this, though, is that she currently works during the weekend, which means Karin is left at home alone in the morning. :( Karita knows how much her daughter hates being by herself, so once she returns home from work, she makes sure they spend plenty of quality of time together. Their favorite activities include fishing (they can catch something to eat or Karin asks to keep one as a little pet), reading books, drawing pictures, cooking, and watching television.

See the little fish next to the television? Karin caught it and wanted to save it from being eaten!

Other than Karin’s idea to sell some of her artwork in the future, the two also already have creative ways to earn extra money on the side (or when they really need money fast). For one, Karita happens to enjoy gardening and has made a habit of exploring her neighborhood and harvesting wild plants to grow around their home. She may keep some to use as fresh ingredients/food, but most of the time, she’ll sell them when they’re fully grown.

Being experienced in manual labor, Karita isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty by digging for things as well. She’ll sell the majority of her finds along with things she catches through fishing.

Karin is also a keen explorer and likes to look for frogs. She’ll keep them as pets, too, but once she catches a new one, she knows she’ll have to sell the old one since multiple frogs is... kind of a lot to deal with in such a small home, lol.

This is her latest find, a spotted leaf frog!

So that’s basically how a typical day would go for Karin and Karita! Karin goes to school during the week, of course, and since Karita doesn’t work on weekdays, she’ll usually spend those days building her skills and doing the many things she’s already come up with to earn extra money.

Currently, Karita is hoping to save up for some renovations, including expanding the interior of their home so she will able to build a little writing studio! She wishes to write about her and Karin’s experiences and to send a message to the world to be kind to each other - something among those lines.

I like playing wholesome families like this, and I think the added challenge of reduced funds not only ties into the original game where the characters came from, but it also makes playing this household a lot more fun and interesting.

Oh, I forgot to mention, guess who came by their household while I was taking screenshots of them for this post?

a wild rose appears lmao

also i just realized you can spy one of dina caliente’s sons in the background

#the sims community #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #the sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 storytelling #the sims 4 screenies #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 screencaps #the sims 4 screenshots #my child lebensborn #maddy's sims

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 36

Yes, the real thing, this time.

Just realized I had it up on AO3 for a few days already and didn't post it here. Chalking that up to my annual April brainfuckery, sorry, Gentle Readers.

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [SpamManager or Tasqueton, not quite sure of the ship name]

Characters: Swatch Paletta, Spamton Addison, Eos Addison, and a very special guest character [spoilers]

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Sanity Meter, Part One

Chapter summary: Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future, or does it? Bits of the past might find something to say about that as they worm their way into the present.

Author notes: This chapter and the one following it will cover the course of a weekend. This one is [mostly] from Spamton's point of view; the next chapter will be from Swatch's POV covering the exact same stretch of time.

No trigger or content warnings, as such.

==============

“I think - I think I’m g-going to go upstate for the weekend,” Spamton commented diffidently on Thursday morning as he and Swatch finished breakfast. “I need to bring b-back some albums for Leroux for the f-festival next Saturday.”

Swatch rolled their eyes. “Oh my. Don’t tell me he’s going to set up a Maypole.”

“Okay, then - then I w-won’t tell you. You d-didn’t hear it from me.”

“Sassy brat.” They got up and rinsed their cereal bowl in the sink, then turned back to him and asked, “Is that the only reason you’re going, my dear?”

“Well, there’s that, pl-plus I want - I want to g-go over some of my course choices for next fall with m-my brothers. And t-talk to them about - about this summer.”

“Ah.”

“Wh-what’s that 'ah' supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” They held their hands up in the air in mock-surrender. “Seriously, nothing. I know you’d tell me or Moggy if something was still bothering you from the other night.” 

“Damn straight,” replied Spamton, mollified. He got off his stool and moved to stand in front of Swatch. “M-maybe I am t-turning some stuff over in my head, but I really do have to g-get those record albums. I pr-promised.” He wrapped his arms around Swatch’s waist and rested his head on their chest. “I’ll m-miss you.”

He could feel Swatch’s sigh both in his hair and through the skin of his cheek. Swatch didn’t laugh at him for expecting to miss them when he’d be gone for less than 72 hours. Nor did they try to reassure him that the two of them would be apart ONLY for 72 hours, max. 

Spamton had the feeling that Swatch knew very well what was on Spamton’s mind…. Time. 

Time speeding by, and nothing Spamton could do about it.

Tomorrow was the first of April.

Easter was in less than three weeks.

Spamton’s birthday was in a little more than a month. A milestone birthday.

Swatch’s and T.M.’s graduation day was in six or seven weeks.

Mrs. Anselmo would be back from Italy in less than 90 days.

Every unit of Time smashing away at Spamton’s mind and demanding that he look at it rather than running away.

Where am I going to be? What am I going to do? Where do I belong?

He broke the embrace and straightened up, giving Swatch a small smile. Swatch asked, “Do you want me to drive you up there tomorrow?”

Spamton thought about it for a minute before replying, “Nah, n-no need. I like t-taking the train.”

Swatch acknowledged that with a nod. “You remind me that I haven’t hung out in Grand Central Station for a long time.  Might be fun to do some sketching there, and at the library.”

“I’d love to see how - how you draw P-Patience and Fortitude.”

_______________________

Eos Addison sat in his corner office at Addison Cybernetics on Friday afternoon and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the trees starting to unfurl their spring leaves. The view outside was much more interesting than the paperwork on his desk. The calendar on the wall had several red circles on it… Good Friday in two weeks, the 29th marked with the note "Go to Rivendell", and his birthday on the 19th sandwiched in between.

His 42nd birthday.

He could already predict that either Sienna or Ballew would make some kind of joke about Eos now having the answers to life, the universe, and everything.

If it only were that easy. His siblings had better answers than he did. 

Eos had thought he had all the answers once upon a time. At seventeen he had acceptances to both Juilliard and MIT. The world was full of choices then.

No time to daydream about what was gone. Time to think of the present.  He scooped up the disregarded paperwork and shoved it back in his “in” bin to be dealt with on Monday. He picked up his briefcase, closed his office door behind him, and told his personal assistant to have a good weekend.

He left White Plains in plenty of time to meet his youngest brother’s train in Harrison.

_______________________

Spamton had timed his trip so that he could make the transfer at West 168th from the 1 train to the A train around 3 o’clock, hoping to get to the shuttle to Grand Central before the Friday rush hour. He found a fairly empty car and sat next to a door, his rolling suitcase wedged between his feet so that he wouldn’t block anyone needing to walk past him between this stop and his 42nd Street destination.

The subway car didn’t stay empty for long.  At the very next stop, 145th Street, a group of eight middle schoolers in uniform-style polo shirts and khaki pants got on, followed by two adults. The fact that the added decibel level didn’t break his eardrums immediately clued Spamton in on the fact that the stocky adult with the long rusty-black locs and the thin adult with a mess of silver-blond hair falling over one eye were probably the kids’ teachers. 

He saw the word “Academy” imprinted in the wrinkled folds of the cloth backpacks that most of the students carried. He smothered a grin, remembering his own private school days. He would have been watching his step, too, if he had to travel home on the same bus or train as his instructors.  All the teachers seemed to need to have eyes in the backs of their heads back then.

The kids weren’t completely quiet; they talked and laughed amongst themselves, three of them standing, the rest of them sprawled on the seats. The two teachers stood holding the central pole between the car doors, both juggling messenger bags.  They seemed to be having a telepathic conversation; at different points while the subway train careened and rocked on the express tracks, the stocky one would give a head tilt and a wide grin towards one or the other of the kids, and the thin one would silently answer back with a slight, sweet grin.

Something about the blond seemed familiar, itching at the back of Spamton’s mind.

A shy, sweet smile. 

Pale hair forever falling in front of and hiding eyes the color of a frozen lake.

A never-ending procession of hand-knitted, ridiculously baggy blue sweaters.

Spamton abruptly directed his gaze to the subway car floor, finding infinite fascination with his own red sneakers.

If that’s who I think it is, the minute I open my mouth he’s going to think I’m making fun of his stutter.

Damn my broken brain.  Damn Mike.

This person, while not tall, was taller than Spamton, standing with a casual confidence while gripping the subway pole for balance as the train roared on. 

This person wore a very expensive dark blue cashmere sweater that fit like a second skin over a crisp white dress shirt.

This person did NOT look like thirty seconds in a high wind would completely annihilate him. He looked successful, and happy with his life, and as though his biggest worry was what movie to watch on the weekend.

Waves of insecurity washed over Spamton, accompanied once more by the gut-punching realization that practically everyone he had known before taking Mike’s deal had made something worthwhile out of their lives, while he was still floundering to figure himself out. He’d been having this feeling for weeks.

His bitter musing was interrupted by the train’s arrival at 125th Street. The students all stampeded to the exit, yelling, “Bye, Miss Stallworth, bye, Mister Sickle!” over their shoulders.  The stocky teacher disembarked as well; Spamton heard her voice saying, “have a good weekend, Jacob” before the subway car’s doors closed and the train resumed its journey toward 59th Street.

That left only two other people in the car besides Spamton and Jack.

Because it was Jack. 

“Sickle” might have been a common enough last name, but hearing the man called “Jacob” clinched it.  Jack Sickle, presumed to have fled to parts far from here last year, only a few years after Spamton had left NDU. Jack Sickle was right here, right now, within touching distance..

Do I play dumb? Do I say something?

Think fast!

Jack gracefully launched himself off the pole to sit on the seat opposite him, a single fluid motion that had Spamton even more eaten up with envy. The blond smiled at him and said, “If I were my cousin, I’d say something like, ‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer.’ But I’m not my cousin. Hello, Stanton.”

“Who’s Stanton?” Spamton couldn’t resist quipping back.

Not that dumb!

Jack’s speech still seemed halting, but with pauses between his words rather than the vocal hitches he used to have. He looked startled at Spamton’s words, and asked in confusion. “Sorry, I thought you were someone I went to school with.” 

He moved as though to change his seat, and Spamton held out a hand to stop him. 

“Hello, Jack. Yes, it’s me.” 

He cringed to hear himself putting on a slight accent, but if that prevented the stutter… Better to have Jack think he was a pretentious twit instead of a pitiful wreck.

Jack seemed to relax then. He took the hand extended to him and shook it. Spamton steeled himself for direct eye contact, but found absolutely no sign of disgust there.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jack said musingly. “You look… good. Really.”

“Oh?  Thanks, you do, as well.  Like you’ve -you’ve moved up in the world.”  Dammit.

“No, really, I mean it,” the other rushed in to say, gesturing vaguely at Spamton’s hair. “The last time I saw you, you were on a billboard, hair dyed to the gills and a totally fake smile. I like this better.”

And then Jack gave him an exaggeratedly flirtatious wink, and Spamton had to laugh. “Are you hitting on me? The J-jack Sickle I knew at NDU would never hit on me in a million years.”  

He suddenly felt a lot more at ease and added, dropping the accent and damning the torpedoes, “B-besides, I’m t-taken.”

“Good to hear. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Are you actually the - the Anti-Jack and p-putting me on?”

“Wow, I haven’t heard Frost called the Anti-Jack in years. Not since…” he trailed off.

Spamton could fill in the blanks. Not since Piki.

After a minute, Jack shrugged, his smile a bit more brittle now.

“No, it’s still me. A bit of speech therapy, a bit of head shrinking, and the chance to go to grad school after I got… derailed. I’m an associate teacher now, working my way into hopefully something permanent.”

“Hmmm. I might know a - a thing or two about g-getting derailed.”

The conversation died. The awkwardness between them seemed punctuated by all the skipped stops flashing past the subway car windows, tunnel walls giving way to station platforms and back again, light chasing shadow.

The blare of the intercom announced their arrival at 59th Street and the subway car filled up again.  Spamton got ready to head out at the next stop, multiple thoughts trying to emerge at once. Would he regret this encounter?  Would he have regretted missing this encounter?

Jack noticed this and rapidly dug into his messenger bag. He handed Spamton a business card and said softly, “I live in Brooklyn now.  If you’re ever in the neighborhood, I’d really like to catch up more. We can trade war stories.”

It crossed Spamton's mind that he was being given a second chance at a friendship he hadn't even known was there to be had. He tucked the card away and said sincerely, “I’d like that t-too.”

As he made his way to the shuttle that would get him to Grand Central and the Metro North, he squashed the thought that it might turn into yet another friendship to lose.

___________________

Eos stood on the Harrison station platform, shading his eyes against the glare of the late afternoon sun.  The train pulled in a few minutes late, and the usual Friday stream of commuting businesspeople and students coming home for the weekend poured through the doors and past him, heading for waiting cars.  His younger brother emerged from the mass of humanity and waved.

My God, his hair!

Spamton now sported a mane, almost a mullet, that was paler in color than anyone else’s in the family.  What had once been the lightest of light browns in babyhood now shone under the fluorescent  lamps as gray, gray, gray. 

The sight was almost enough to make Eos want to throw up.  He guiltily remembered the joke he’d made back in November about Spamton’s growing-out hair making him look like a skunk with a pompadour.  He never thought he’d be missing his brother’s black dye job, but seeing the gray gave him yet another emotional punch in the gut.

Another memory swam before his eyes… the family gathering that had ended in a one-sided screaming match on Spamton’s end. Eos had kept his mouth shut, his heart shattering, when Spamton had slammed out of the house to go back to the charlatan behind the GASTER project.  His brain supplied the answers now that he wished he’d given back then.

I got this job on my own. I’m damn good at what I do.

[I know you are. God forgive me for ever making you think you aren’t.]

All of you have done nothing but push, push, push me to succeed. Well, I’m succeeding now, without any of you.  Mike doesn’t give a damn that I’m an Addison.  

[Success like that comes with a price, I don’t want you to ever know what that costs.]

Eos can be happy being Ballew’s puppet.  I’m never going to be a puppet.

[I never wanted to be a puppet either, and neither did Ballew. We’re all somebody’s puppet in this world.]

And now Spamton looked older than Eos. 

Old before his time.

So much water under the bridge.  So much blame to go around. 

All this crossed his mind in nanoseconds as Spamton came trotting up to him, wheeling a green-and-black suitcase, a tired but happy smile on his face as he approached.

And the first words out of Spamton’s mouth were “G-got any soup for a starving man?  I c-could guzzle a - a gallon.”

“For you, always,” Eos replied, taking the handle of the suitcase out of his brother’s hand and smiling in turn. “Next stop, the Port Chester Coach, Manhattan clam chowder coming up.”

The acquisition of soup was a problem even HE could solve.  

It didn’t escape Eos’ notice that once they both walked into the diner, Spamton picked the farthest-back booth and quickly slid into the side that faced the entrance. Even now, even in what should have been a safe place, his little brother was afraid to leave his back unguarded.

He sighed inwardly and picked up his menu, even though he already knew he was going to order the same thing he always did… an open-face turkey sandwich with stuffing and gravy.  Making a show of perusing the entrees and giving his hands something to do, he said, “Sorry we have to do this while Ballew’s out of town,”   

Spamton gave him a look that was almost a perfect imitation of one of Ballew’s trademarked “I Am Annoyed But I’m Going To Pretend I Didn’t Hear That” looks and replied, apparently in deadly earnest, “I’m not. I p-picked THIS weekend on purpose because I - I knew Ballew was going to be out of t-town. I wanted to t-talk to YOU.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.” His younger brother drew out the word and popped the last letter.

“Ah.  What about?”

“Uh-uh. After dinner, b-back at the house. I have - I have school st-stuff to go over, and I need to p-pick YOUR brain about it, not Big Blue’s.”

Eos smiled at the old nickname.  “Haven’t heard THAT in a while.  Are you going to start calling me ‘Pinkie Pie’ now?”

“N-not unless you want - want me to.”

“Okay. But now you’ve gotten me very curious about what you’re planning for the weekend.”

“G-good.”

The waitress came by just then, and they placed their orders. Spamton grinned when Eos ordered a pitcher of the diner’s renowned vanilla Coke. “You remembered!”

“Yup,” Eos aimed his brother’s drawn-out and popped monosyllables right back at him. He felt an unaccustomed wave of happiness.

________________

After they got home, Eos found that his nervousness had returned, along with his imposter syndrome. 

A pile of paperwork sat in front of Spamton on the table in the dining room, where the two of them had gravitated by unspoken agreement.   

This is supposed to be Ballew’s department , Eos thought to himself with a sense of rising panic. I’m no good at helping anyone making life decisions.  He’s the one that does all the work keeping this family together, while I just try to—

A rustling sound broke into his consciousness.

Spamton picked up one of the typed sheets and pushed it towards Eos. “I’ve g-got to admit I was… scared to talk to you about this stuff.”

That snapped his focus off himself.  “Scared about what?”

“About - about whether you’re going to b-bite my head off for taking a course like this, since I’ll bet you would have k-k-k-killed someone for it back in the day.  About asking why you g-gave up a career in music.”

Eos could feel himself gaping like a fish. To regain his equilibrium, he looked at the paper in question.

JRN 412  Scoring for Moving Pictures

Semester:

Fall of every year, Spring of every year, Summer of every year

Credits:

Total Credits: 3   Lecture/Recitation/Discussion Hours: 2   Lab Hours: 2

Description:

Approaches during the process of scoring for moving pictures in support of emotion, narrative, ethics and culture.

At the bottom of the page were a few lines in loopy cursive.

I turn 25 in a month. That means I don't need you anymore. But I want to do more with you, hang out with you, be your brother, not just your LITTLE brother.

He looked back up after scanning the lines on the page several times. 

Spamton’s eyes were suspiciously bright. He mumbled, “I’m n-not a m-m-mind reader, but can I take a wild g-guess and say that our - our parents st-stopped you?”

“What? No!” Eos was startled into practically shouting, which made Spamton flinch, which made Eos feel awful. He put the paper down and laid his hands flat on the table, locking eyes with the younger man. He said more quietly, “No. Is that what you thought all this time?”

“W-well, yeah.  Isn’t - isn’t that what p-p-parents do, tell their k-kids to st-stop dreaming about blue skies and fluffy clouds and endless sunshine, and start - start living in the - the real world?”

It felt like endless moments before Eos felt capable of speech.  He took a long, hard look at Gainsboro Stanton Addison, making the concerted effort to really see him.  Not as a baby brother. Not as someone who always needed to be saved from something.  Seeing him as a person who’d brought a quandary to his attention and asking for input.

Through this new lens, he saw a thin young man with prematurely gray hair and deep lines bracketing his lips.  Those lines might have been etched by pain, but they also looked like laugh lines to Eos. He saw a pair of dark eyes that shone with fervor, with crinkles in the corners that would probably become crows-feet in a few years, under a pair of expressive eyebrows now cocked in his direction.  

He saw someone who was completely and undeniably alive. Not a ghost.  Not a memory.

Finally Eos answered Spamton with a question of his own. “What’s going on with you really? Not just the small talk we made at the diner… ‘how are you’ ‘oh, fine’, ’how’s Swatch?’ ‘oh, they’re fine’, ‘how’s your friend, the blonde with the blue tips’ ‘oh, she’s fine too’. I get the feeling if I ask again how YOU are, you’ll tell me something different than what you did a few hours ago.”

Now he felt more in his element. He watched several expressions flit across Spamton’s face - surprise tinged with a tiny bit of fear, followed by a more thoughtful look that morphed into the lip-chewing that Eos hadn’t seen since his brother was very young. 

At last Spamton replied. “Wow. Okay. Real t-talk.”

“Damn straight.”

“Okay.” A deep breath, and then the words came pouring out, only occasionally stuttered. “For the last m-month I’ve been asking myself why I went back to school, and who - who I’m supposed to be. I had it in my head that I was there at Inwood as a kind of - kind of Purgatory. Work hard, g-get good grades, keep my head down. To m-make up for all the stupid mistakes I made at NDU. I told myself I wasn’t there to make fr-friends.”

Eos nodded along in acknowledgement and commented, “And look at you now.”

“Yeah. And l-look at me now. I’ve g-g-got a radio show again. I hang out with b-basketball players and fencers, I’ve fallen in love with not one, but two people…” “Huh? Wait a minute, back up. TWO people? As in, you’re living with Swatch AND dating someone else?” Eos bit his tongue before he could blurt out, and Swatch is okay with this?

“Well, yeah, it kind of j-j-j-just happened. It’s really early days, and I d-don’t know if it’s going to last. Same way I don’t know if Swatch and I are g-g-g-oing to last beyond the next few months.” Spamton sputtered to a stop, while Eos digested this.

He chose his words carefully while replying, “Are you thinking that getting romantically involved was a mistake, or that it’s something that I’d disapprove of, or Ballew or Sienna? That we were all demanding that you do nothing except classwork at Inwood?” Eos didn’t notice that he had tears in his eyes until he felt one roll down his face and drip off his chin. Ignoring the urge to wipe it away, he kept going. “Spamton.  Listen to me. Not even two years ago we all thought you were DEAD. How could you even think that we wouldn’t be happy now to see you actually LIVING?”

His younger brother looked back at him, seemingly at a loss for an answer.

When the silence got too uncomfortable, Eos leaned an elbow on the table to prop up his suddenly aching head. He rolled his shoulders to try to dispel the muscular tension that he was only just noticing, took a deep breath, and said, “I think we’ve drifted a bit from the original discussion. From what I see, the point here isn’t what courses you should be taking. I want to hear more about these two people you’re in love with. Swatch is one of them, right?”

Spamton nodded.

“And let me guess. T.M.’s the other one.”

That got a goofy grin in reaction.

“Good. I want to get to know them both better.”

“Thank you for that. Actually, thank you for a c-couple of things.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, color me curious.  What things?”

Eos watched Spamton’s hands in quiet amusement as Spamton actually physically ticked things off on his fingers. “You’ve g-got no problems with people’s pronouns. You m-m-m-made the least amount of fuss out of everybody about c-calling me ‘Spamton’ instead of Stanton or Gainsboro, the way I asked when I g-got out of Brunswick. You don’t seem fazed that I’m dating two people. You d-didn’t raise  - raise holy hell when you f-f-f-found out that Ballew knew where I was before any of the rest of you did, AND he kept it a secret for a year.”  Another big, deep breath. “You d-don’t - don’t try to f-finish my sentences for me when I can’t g-get the words out.”

When it seemed that Spamton had run out of points to make, Eos nodded and asked, “Do you know why that is? That last bit.”

“No?”

“I was always getting interrupted when I was a kid, because I didn’t talk fast enough. I didn’t have a stutter like you, but it was so bad having people speak over me and FOR me that I basically just stopped talking unless I had to. And that hasn’t really stopped, forty years later. I’ve just gotten better at making it look like I’m a great listener.”

Spamton looked gobsmacked at that. 

Eos decided to take the bull by the horns.  If his youngest brother really meant what he’d written on the page sitting on the table between them, then, well, honesty deserved honesty in turn.

“Going back over the other stuff…” he said, using his own fingers to tally points, “one, if there’s anything that my day job has taught me, it’s that names and pronouns are important to people, and respect for those things make people happy, and happy people are a lot more fun to work with. Two, as far as Ballew keeping it a secret that he’d found you, and WHERE he’d found you, and the shape you were in, well… I didn’t feel that I deserved to know, because I was the one who let you down the most and made you stick up harder for that Mike bastard.”

“Whoa,” Spamton breathed. “I d-didn’t think you KNEW how to c-curse.”

“Oh, trust me, I do.  Even if it’s usually in my head and doesn’t come out of my mouth. I cursed a lot more out loud before Mom and Dad died.”  

“Huh.”

Eos held up one last finger. “And three, as for you loving multiple people at the same time, all I have to say is ‘good’. Just because I gave up on love doesn’t mean anyone else should.”

He pushed his chair out and stood up. “I think we should come back to your course planning tomorrow. Right now I want to pig out on that vanilla bean ice cream that Gerard left in the freezer last night. What Ballew doesn’t know about, he won’t miss.”

“When d-did you turn evil?” Spamton asked as he followed Eos to the kitchen.

#deltarune #deltarune fanfiction #swatchton #sylph writes #fic: call signs #nightmare dork university

[thesoulspulse]

Danny Phantom Randomness (Blood Red Huntress)

It just occurred to me today that since Valerie is portrayed as an antagonist against Danny Phantom and ghosts as a whole, she was never given a full on “evil” version of herself like the rest of the main cast. We’ve basically got Dan, Plant Sam, and Pharaoh Tuck, but apart from that Valerie never got the chance to have some fun as a full on villain. Of course, there were some minor hints of some sort of corruption going on with Valerie in the second to last episode of the series when she tricks Dani into becoming bait so she could capture Danny, revealing that she’s starting to enjoy being a powerful ghost hunter which meant this wasn’t about getting revenge against him anymore. And to make matters worse Valerie had no reservations about torturing him to make him tell her everything he knows about ghosts and the Ghost Zone either.

Personally I would have loved to see some kind of interaction between Valerie and the future version of herself from Dan’s timeline or, better yet, maybe a brand new Valerie could show up unexpectedly from a timeline where she’s the founder of an even more dangerous group of ghost hunters than the Guys in White. Maybe she even took Vlad down in that timeline just like she promised to at the very end of D-Stabilized:

“Vlad Masters is Vlad Plasmius?! Phantom was right all along! And all this time I’ve been doing all his dirty work! Well, not anymore. Better watch out, Vlad… ‘cause one of the ghosts I’m hunting now is you!”

As for the main conflict here, maybe the alternate Valerie plans to invade the Ghost Zone to personally get rid of as many ghosts as possible which she can’t do without a working Ghost Portal and the only two she knows of are in the past since they were genetically locked or outright destroyed somehow in her own. Or it would have been cool to see Valerie slowly start to realize her battle suit upgrade has literally begun to infect her mind with another power-hungry ghost persona created when Technus gave it to her. That’s something I’ve seen a lot in the phandom. And lastly, if you haven’t already guessed from the post title has something to do with Blood Blossoms...

Before you ask, no, its not exactly like a Plant Sam scenario where she gains plant powers since I don’t want to make them too similar. No, the idea here is for there to be some kind of accident with some mixture either Valerie or her father is working on in Axion Labs where the main ingredient is Blood Blossoms and it causes some kind of unique anti-ghost mutation. Borrowing a bit of inspiration from my Necromancer oc, Owen Ravenwood, perhaps her blood becomes toxic to ghosts meaning she's now more or less a human Specter Deflector.

She can’t control plants or anything but what Valerie CAN do is transfer her power into any object or person to shield them from anything consisting of ecto-energy, blocking their effects and causing immense pain to the attacking ghost. This would create some great drama between her and Danny if he had no choice but to avoid Valerie because being around her makes him feel sick. Valerie wouldn’t have to rely on the battle suit anymore either since those anti-ghost powers are now a part of her thanks to that mysterious Blood Blossom serum.

Anyways, these are just a few ideas I thought of and I’d love to hear what you guys think! Maybe I’ll even draw one of the concepts eventually! But until then, hope you liked the post!

#danny phantom #danny phantom randomness #danny phantom au #valerie grey #valerie gray #future valerie #d-stablilized #au #alternate reality #alternate universe #alternate version #alternate future #red huntress #blood blossom #character concept #thesoulspulse #thesoul'spulse #the souls pulse #the soul's pulse

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Mr Gallagher and Me

Jim x reader

Playlist Chapter 10 Masterlists

Chapter 11

As the holidays draw nearer, its time for Jim to meet Y/n's parents, but the introduction isn't exactly smooth sailing. Warnings- mentions of pregnancy symptoms

Early December Upon deciding that sleep was not happening in the near foreseeable future, Y/n had deserted the bed and headed to the living room, grabbing the television remote before laying sideways on the sofa, propping her head on a pillow shoved against the armrest. Mindlessly and with the sound muted, she flipped though infomercials and sitcom marathons in search of something interesting to watch.

There'd been so much going on in her mind that night, much of it she'd kept private from Jim and by the time it was three am and Y/n couldn't seem to fall asleep, she also couldn't tell if the throb in head had been the result of sleep deprivation, stress or hormones. She did know however that it made her wish she knew how to turn down the brightness on Jim's TV-in Jim's apartment, where she'd been most of the time.

It had been going on three full weeks since she'd been staying with him and it was starting to feel like she unofficially lived there; from knowing where everything was to having more and more of her things appearing in his closet, dresser and bathroom. They'd never discussed moving in together though, but every time Y/n had brought up going back to her place, more so to give him space in than taking some for herself, Jim had promised her that he liked having her there and knowing that she- and the baby- were okay.

"Couldn't sleep?" Jim broke from the hallway, though, Y/n shifted her head awkwardly to catch a glimpse of him as he came in, dressed simply in flannel pajama bottoms and a simple, pale blue t-shirt- Y/n had actually been wearing the shirt for those pants, the long sleeves falling over her fingers and the hem reaching just over the center of her bare thighs. 

“Nope,” Y/n sat up as Jim sank down next to her on the sofa and he immediately pulled her in. 

“Something wrong?” He inquired worriedly when Y/n didn’t elaborate. Jim’s hand affectionately rubbed her shoulder as he drew her in against him.

“No,....yes. I don’t know,” Y/n admitted with a sigh, "I was texting my mom earlier,” she sucked in a sharp breath, burrowing closer and slipped her arms around his waist in a cozy hug as she tucked her legs at her side, knees pressing against his thighs, "I still haven't told my parents that I’m pregnant….or that I’m dating you, I wouldn't even know how to tell them how we met,” Y/n disclosed with a heavy exhale, “And she’s been asking about when I’ll be getting in for Christmas but….”

“But?” Jim prompted and Y/n leaned forward slightly to press her cheek to his chest. 

“But I don’t know if I want to go,” Y/n divulged, voice dropping. Going home felt complicated; having to explain that she was having a baby and who the father was, they’d probably be livid and it was a mess she was avoiding. “I don’t know if I wanna tell them yet,” she explained shamefully.

“I love you, and I get that you might be scared,” Jim bent his head to briefly kiss her hair, "But you need to tell them.”

“I know,” Y/n groaned, already feeling tears prickle at her eyes, “I’m just worried that it’ll go sideways. And I wish we could tell them together.”

For a moment, Jim was silent, and Y/n had almost taken to thinking that he’d fallen asleep on her, or had gotten distracted by the television when he eventually offered, “Maybe we can,” he said casually, and in the dimness, Y/n angled her head so she could meet his eyes by the aid of the poor television lighting, “Why don’t you ask them to come here for Christmas?” 

Late December- Two days before Christmas  Of all the days to feel like absolute crap, Y/n just had to have what was probably the worst of her morning sickness on the day her parents were coming in. It had taken over a week to convince them, and when Y/n had reluctantly told them about why Jim couldn’t join her back to Nevada, they’d both been shocked and visibly displeased. 

“He can’t come because…..he has his kids for half of Christmas day.”

“Kids?” Her mother had retorted incredulously, "He has kids?” 

Her father had taken the news slightly better, though, his disapproval made a reappearance when she told him that Jim’s kids were fifteen and seventeen. 

The only reason that they’d even agreed to visit Ireland for Christmas was because Y/n, by every fault of the hormones brought on by the little person inside her, had broken down over the phone on their last call as she’d explained that she really wanted things to work out and was desperate for them to meet Jim. She had not told them why and she had planned on keeping the reasoning private until after Christmas dinner. 

But her body seemed to have other plans. 

On the morning that she was supposed to pick them up from the airport, Y/n had been up a good ten hours before their flight was due to touch down on Thursday afternoon, upchucking the contents of her stomach, while grappling with a headache that was on the verge of turning into a migraine and cramps that had started up the day before. Jim had gotten up with her, though his aid had been limited to filling up his search history with ‘at home’ remedies for her symptoms, counting the minutes until Dr. Shaw’s office opened and soothingly rubbing her back and coercing her into having slow sips of water and nibbles of saltines. 

“Alright, so I just got off the phone with the doctor,” he announced, reentering the bathroom just as Y/n was moving to lean against the tub, bringing the damp washcloth she’d been holding to her face as she breathed heavily. “She says the cramps. and even spotting is normal. But if you start having heavy bleeding or pain you can’t bare, we should call her and go to the hospital.”

Despite the relief that came with knowing that nothing was wrong, Y/n groaned in response. Throwing her head back and swallowing thickly, she mustered up the breath to ask, “Did she say what we could do about….” She trailed off, more focused on trying to not gag. 

“About everything else,” Jim finished for her as he sank down on the tiled floor next to her, “Not really, just what we’ve already tried. Crackers, ginger tea and small, regular meals,:

“Ugh,” suddenly, just the thought if eating turned her stomach, and Jim scrambled to keep up, hastily rubbing her back. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, trying to get strands of her hair out of her face, “Sorry,” he grimaced apologetically. When it was over and Jim once more brought a glass filled with ice water to her lips, attempted to avoid any food related topic entirely, instead  suggesting, “Maybe we should send a taxi for your parents,” even as he suggested it, Jim  seemed weary of the idea, though, Y/n suspected that it was primarily because he didn't want to upset her. “You obviously cannot go like this and I am not leaving you here alone.”

“No,” she protested weakly, staggering to a stand with his help, almost tripping over her own feet when he let her go for a moment. “If I don't go, I have to tell them why,” she explained as she got her toothbrush out, “And I’m not ready yet,” she sighed, meeting his tired, worried gaze through their reflections. 

Jim exhaled defeatedly, slumping his shoulders but still maintaining a steadying hold on her, “Alright, fine,” he sighed, “There’s still a few hours for you to try to get some rest, and some fluids,” he kissed the back of her head, “And we’ll see how you feel, yeah?”

Tiredly, Y/n nodded, “Okay.”

Later that day. The holidays always brought with it some extra bustle at the airport, though Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d been there so close to Christmas and so, the chaos was as good as cold water over his head. There were people everywhere, the snow laden parking lot, the front entrance, the check in stations, near the food court and where they were waiting for her parents near the escalators, it sort of felt as of all of Dublin, and then some, had gathered at the airport in anticipation of Christmas. They were waiting for her parents, who'd gotten in about twenty minutes ago but had decided to baggage claim first so when they met up, the biggest  hassle left would be actually leaving the airport.

Without her even saying it,Jim could tell she was nervous, it was in the way she’d been wringing her hands together occasionally and chewing on her lower lip every time he glanced at her. She still seemed a little worse for wear too; visibly tired and unusually irritable, both of which were completely understandable given how her day had gone. Which was why he’d been desperate for things to go well when he finally met her parents, if he could do his very best to get along with them and not stress her out, then that would be one less thing on her plate.

“Its gonna be okay,” he murmured, bringing his lips to the woolen beanie covering the top of her head  and giving her waist an affectionate squeeze

With a sigh, Y/n glanced up at him, expression unreadable but eyes wide with anxiety, “I guess,” she suspired, ”Its just…..you don’t know my mom, she’s…..inflexible.” 

“Inflexible?” Jim chuckled curiously. She’d always talked about how her mother was strict, and that she had a habit, albeit a well-meaning one, of projecting her own beliefs and values on Y/n, her only child.

Y/n exhaled unsteadily, “Yeah its just-” As she spoke, Y/n glanced towards the row of escalators ahead of them, “They’re here,” she smiled tightly, untangling from his embrace and simply, lacing her hand in his as they walked towards the escalators. 

“Y/n!” It was her father that called to her first, lifting the rolling suitcase a bit so he could jog down the remaining steps. As he set it down next to him, he opened his arms up for a hug and Y/n deserted Jim’s hand for a moment to lunge into her father’s arms.

“Daddy!” She squealed excitedly and Jim grinned; relieved to see her so happy for the first time that day. “I missed you,” he heard her say as he slipped his hands into his pockets, hanging back quietly as he waited to be introduced. 

“Missed you too slugger,” her father chortled warmly. 

When Y/n and her father parted, she reached to hug her mother, though the embrace was far more somber and didn’t last as long. There was still warmth between the two women, but her mother seemed rigid while Y/n seemed happy but not as outwardly excited. “Hi mom,” she beamed when they pulled away, still holding each other at the arms, “I’m glad you guys came.” 

Y/n’s mother hummed, smiling tightly and when Jim caught a cleaner look at the older woman’s face, he saw where Y/n got her beauty; if she were younger, or Y/n were older, they could have been twins. “Well, we wanna spend Christmas with you, so if you insist on doing it here….”

“What your mother means to say is that we’re happy to be there,” her father injected, “Its gonna be great! Nevada’s always so hot in December, it’ll be good to see how the other half lives.”

“Exactly!” Y/n declared triumphantly, “Oh, I want you guys to meet someone,” suddenly she sounded nervous again, and when she glanced at him, Jim drew nearer once more, his own anxiety over meeting her parents prompting him to seek comfort by reaching for her waist, his breathing veining out a little when Y/n reciprocated. “Mom, daddy, this is Jim. The guy I've been telling you about.”

“Told us about, once,” her mother corrected testily  as her father offered his hand.

“Jack,” the man shook his hand firmly, offering him a subtly warning squeeze, “You’ve got my little girl loving Ireland more than her own damn home,” the man was straight faced and unnerved, Jim stood there, at a loss for words. Then, apparently when he’d had enough of seeing Jim squirm, Jack laughed, “Relax, I'm just joking."

"Oh, right," Jim exhaled audibly and when he glanced at Y/n as Jack released his hand she smiled softly as if to reassure him that it was going well so far.

"Natalie," her mother didn't joke around the way her husband had, and Jim thought that she seemed like the sterner one of the two. And the one who wasn't pleased about spending Christmas in a strange country.

Quickly though, Jim tried to suppress judgment so he could be as cordial as possible, "Its nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n."

"Please," Jack dismissed with a casual wave, "Jack is fine," as he said it, Y/n's father turned to her mother, presumably expecting her to request something along the same lines. 

After a couple minutes of stoney hesitation, she scoffed, "Natalie is fine too, I suppose, you are almost our age anyways."

"Mom!" Y/n admonished, poorly masking her irritation.

“Its okay,” Jim said softly, pecking the top of her head. 

“Why don’t we get going?” Jack interrupted the tension and grabbed the handle of the suitcase he’d come down with, and then relieved his wife of one of her carry ons, “That was a long flight and I’m sure you two have been waiting for a while. You look tired, slugger,” Jack noted, quickly touching Y/n’s chin with the tip of his fingers. 

“A little,” she admitted, and Jim easily picked the fib out of the quip but kept his lips sealed; they'd already discussed that they’d tell her parents, and his kids, after Christmas dinner. 

Not long after, they turned to head to his car, though, before they'd set off, Jim had insisted on carrying two of their heavier bags. He and Y/n were walking a couple feet ahead and thought she’d been determined to carry one of the bags, he had been adamant in insisting that she did not, and thankfully, her parents hadn’t traveled with much anyway. As they walked, far enough ahead to not lead to any hasty  bump ins, they were still within close enough proximity to Y/n’s parents to hear a conversation that Jim supposed was meant to stay private;

“I can’t believe you’re okay with  this,” Natalie whispered harshly 

With an irritated sigh, Jack quickly returned under his breath, “I’m not okay with it, but what do you want me to do? Tell her who to date?”

“I want you to stop acting like you to act like this okay. She just turned twenty-three for God’s sake.”

When Y/n briefly glanced backwards, Jack mumbled harshly, “We’ll talk about this later.”  

After that, the rest of the walk to Jim’s car, and by extension to ride to Y/n’s apartment, where her parents would be staying, without, much to her mother’s very vocal disapproval, was riddled with rigid awkwardness and thick tension.  He could tell Y/n felt it too, because she’d gone completely quiet after the airport incident and hadn’t even said much as they got her parents settled at her place, where they were expected to stay for a week.

When they’d returned to his car though, and Jim had asked if she was okay, it was like he’s pulled a pin on a grenade and she broke down.”I’m so scared to tell them,” she cried, covering her face with her hands, “They’re gonna be so disappointed- she’s gonna be so mad.”

“Hey,” Jim cooed, leaning over the console as he laced one of his hands with hers, bringing the back of her knuckles to his lips, “Its gonna be okay, the only reason they’re reacting like this is because they love you, and they’re worried that some old man is taking advantage of their little girl,” he teased earning himself a sniffled giggle through her stream of tears. “They love you,” he reaffirmed, “And even if they’re disappointed, or mad, nothing will change that, right?”

Y/n nodded through the tears, using her free hand to swipe some of them away, only for fresh ones to streak her stained cheeks, “I know, you’re right,” she sniffled, “I just don’t want them to flip out, you know?”

Truthfully, Jim was hoping that they’d take the news with much less anger than he was expecting too- the guilt steaming from getting her into what they perceived to be as trouble would crush him, and he also was scared of Y/n taking on more stress than she had too, especially when Dr. Shaw had told him that morning that stress could be a factor in the severity of her symptoms.

“Maybe they won’t,” he quipped, keeping his hoe subdued, “Won’t know until you tell ‘em,” he smiled faintly, leaning over a little further to press a quick peck to her temple, “But you should try to relax until then, better to not get all worked up until then, right?”

Y/n exhaled with a shake, her eyes still glassy as she determined, “Right.” He could tell she was still anxious about the issue, but she’d stopped crying. As he’d pulled out of the parking spot though, Y/n continued her hold on his hand and while he rubbed soothing strokes onto the back of her thumb Jim hoped that for her sake -and his- that he was right about her parents not reacting badly to the news they were closely guarding. 

*****

Tagging- @pearlstiare

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #the delinquent season #mr. gallagher and me

[frankhightower]

Commission Prices 2023 (and FAQ)

I'm open for commissions! I'm only taking full body sketches at this time. I intend to revise my prices annually.

FAQ:

So now I can make you draw anything I want? Not exactly. There's several things I won't draw under any circumstances (mainly: genitals, nipples, death or gore; I'll go into more detail later. If you're unsure, please ask!) What does “price per character prop, or background element” mean? It means each character in the piece costs that amount. Two characters costs twice as much, but a character with an object also costs that much (thus Microfan with his flag costs the same as two people hugging or indeed a guy sitting under a tree). Whether a prop counts or not depends on if it’s an indispensable part of the outfit (for instance, Copper’s pocket watch is part of his conductor uniform, but his clipboard is not). This also means you can request one character in color and the other in black and white or indeed the prop in color and the character in black and white. What counts as a background element? It’ll be judged on a case-by-case basis. For instance, the locomotive and its tender count as a single element, with the boxcar counting as a second element; however a multiple-unit train such as the Acela Express would count as a single element. Why do some things cost the same as others? Price is based on effort – that is, how hard and time consuming it is for me – and I consider the two equally-priced things to require about the same effort. This may change in the future, but I promise to always have something available for $5. Then why does lineless cost more if you literally do less? Because, when coloring, the thickness of the line allows me a certain margin of error that disappears when we go lineless. Why do you only offer lineless with color and shading? I don’t think lineless looks good in black and white or with flat colors, so I don’t do ’em. Why do you call them sketches if you color and shade them? Because I’m doing these entirely freehanded: minimal use of guidelines, references and revisions. Wait, there’s no revisions?! What if I don’t like something?! There’s revisions, they’re just limited in scope. For instance, I originally drew Ty as gray fox, not a silver fox (i.e. no white tailtip), despite having references telling me otherwise; I assumed responsibility for the error and corrected the drawing. However, corrections of the type “Ian’s shovel looks crooked, do it again” I will not do because those kind of “errors” are intrinsic to the freehanded nature of the sketch (I may attempt to digitally scale the shovel to make it look less crooked, but I won’t redraw it). What if I want you to do those things? Then it wouldn’t be a sketch; you’ll have to wait until I can do commissions that aren’t sketch quality, which will happen when I feel I have the time available from my dayjob and family life. What if I don’t want a full body? What if I only want a headshot? I don’t do just headshots because I always end up putting effort into the parts that don’t get drawn (i.e. I inevitably think about and plan out what the shoulders and arms should be doing and don’t like that time going to waste). You are free to crop the picture after the fact if you want to focus on just the head, though. And besides, my prices are pretty low already. Why the complexity charge? Why is texture harder than extra limbs? I’ve discovered that the mental effort of swapping to a different texture adds a lot of time to the artistic process. If you have, say, a bird and a lion, you only need to swap once when you finish one character and start the next, but if you’re doing a griffin, you need to be doing that constantly. Extra limbs don’t create this problem for me; I instinctively understand they’re as much part of the character as the tail is. I have a character with both fur and feathers but I can’t afford the complexity charge I’ll be more than happy to draw them with just fur or just feathers all over. Do bat wings on a [insert mammal here] count as a different texture? No, bat wings have fur. Do bat wings on a scaley dragon count as a different texture? No, because I draw them covered in scales like the rest of the dragon unless otherwise specified. How does the “no reference” option work? I’ll ask you for a detailed description of your character and probably some clarification questions. Can I give you an AI-generated image as a reference? Oh God, please no! I'd much rather you give me the "prompt" text and work from there! I’ve never heard of an artist working without references before I do it because I’ve been there. All-too often, I need art of a character, but don’t have the time or money to make reference (and indeed, half the reason I buy art from other artists is because I’m too busy to do it myself). Can I just get a refsheet? Not as a sketch, no. A refsheet cannot contain freehanding errors. Please wait until I open commissions for refsheets (which I will do eventually). Can I use the resulting sketch to get a refsheet from another artist? Yes, that’s part of the reason I do it. Can I get a black-and-white sketch from you and then color it myself like a coloring book page? Yes! That’s also part of the reason I do it. In fact, it’s what inspired the “black and white shaded” options. Can I put it on a background to make it look like my ’sona was there? Yes, that is why I always deliver with transparent background when possible. Can I print it and hang it on my wall? Yes, once delivered, you can do whatever you want with it. Whatever I want? So I can post it online? Of course. I do ask that you link back to me for that, though. This sounds too good to be true Well, I’m still learning. I charge cheaply not only to remain accessible, but because I never went to art school nor paid for art classes (my only formal art training was the mandatory art class in middle school). I feel like the difference between what I charge and what I “should” charge is what I should pay for the art class that teaches me what I’ll learn by drawing the piece (i.e. I don’t expect it to be perfect so I don’t charge it as such) and besides, since this is something I do in my “free” time, I know I probably won’t deliver it as quickly as I should. Do you have a sample? Please refer to the full version for each of the "strips", and try to imagine that "but better"

Black-and-white version ($5/char)

Flat color version ($20/char)

Gradient-shaded version ($25/char)

Lineless Gradient-shaded version ($30/char)

Cell-shaded version ($40/char)

Lineless Cell-shaded version ($45/char)

Who are the characters in this picture? This picture features, from left to right (as identified by their FA username)

Microfan the tiger as the black-and-white Flagman waiting for his cue from the stationmaster

Morticia981 the pig as the flat-colored Station Hand loading water into the boiler

CopperM the black-and-white-shaded ferret as the Stationmaster checking his pocket watch

IantheGecko (gecko) as the gradient-shaded Fireman shoveling coal

Angel the wolf as the lineless Porter guiding the special passenger

HollieHyena (hyena) as the cell-shaded Yard Worker watching from the roof of macro car #17 waiting for her cue to close the door

TyVulpine, the silver fox taur in all the other styles, as the Special Passenger requiring macro-sized accommodation

Can I share this on other socials? Yes, please. I'll have the links to this pricesheet elsewhere, here Yes, please. here are the links to this pricesheet:

Twitter

Deviant Art

Fur Affinity

Ko-fi

Mastodon

Posted using PostyBirb

[jjorbles]

(Repost) The real reason for Warner/DC’s “no jokes” policy

Note: This article was originally posted September 4th, 2014 on the Agony Booth, which I used to write for. Since that site is sadly no longer with us, I’m reposting my old articles here.

First, I might as well get this out of the way, since I still get confused comments about this: Yes, I like Man of Steel significantly less than I did when I wrote my initial review last year. Honestly, I don’t think I ever truly liked it. I just so very badly wanted to. I clung to the elements that worked and told myself those niggling doubts in the back of my head didn’t matter. I wanted so much to like Man of Steel, had myself so on edge, torn between excitement and dread, and so turned around that in my zeal to be a “professional” critic and judge whether or not the film was “objectively” good, I managed to overlook the most important factor of all while watching it:

I wasn’t having fun.

After all, if you’re not having fun watching a damn superhero movie, what’s the point? Sure, comics can have different goals than pulp entertainment. They can be dramatic, or dark and depressing, or spiritual, or psychedelic, or whatever the imagination can conceive, just like any art form. But this isn’t Watchmen. This isn’t The Invisibles or Maus. This is Superman. Ground zero for the comic book superhero. And if you’re not having fun watching Superman, why are you watching to begin with?

And that was ultimately what killed Man of Steel for me. Not it being a bad movie (though it was very much that, failing to do a good job of being what it wanted to be, much less what I wanted it to be), but rather utterly joyless and morose. Even more so than the Dark Knight trilogy, Man of Steel was completely devoid of levity. And after so much anticipation, and so much promise, this was completely soul-crushing for me. Superman means something to me, and always has. This is a character I draw hope and inspiration from, a character who’s helped get me through my darkest days. And to see him drained of all that optimism and joy… I honestly think it broke something in me.

Ever since, I’ve been a more cynical person when it comes to movies. I find it much harder to get excited for anything movie-related anymore. Every time a new movie is announced that sounds like something I might like, I react with suspicion or apathy. The world of cinema post-Man of Steel just seems like a far bleaker place to me.

That may sound melodramatic, and it probably is. But as if to assure me I’m justified in feeling this way, along comes rumors that Warner Brothers has instituted an already infamous “no jokes policy” for all future DC movies.

Everybody together now…

(EDIT: I cannot find or remember what image was originally posted here as a follow up to that line)

I honestly can barely find the words right now. I feel crushed by the very idea of what lies ahead. I’m still feeling drained from Man of Steel, and the thought that there are more movies coming just like it, each just as depressing as the last… I just want it to stop. I don’t want to live in a world where this is what Superman is now. Where this is what Wonder Woman, what the whole Justice League is. I’d rather never see them onscreen again than have to sit through another movie like Man of Steel.

But I’ll try to compose myself long enough to say something of substance about this. Which is difficult, because as it is, it actually doesn’t seem to tell us all that much. For instance, exactly how literal a mandate is this? Are they actually saying that no kind of humor at all will be permitted in their films? Is any line of dialogue that resembles a joke to be purged from the scripts? Are actors to be forbidden from smiling during their performances? Likely not. After all, even Man of Steel had one or two jokes… I think. Let’s see, there was the bit where he smashes that guy’s truck, I guess. That was sort of a joke. Then there was the bit where that girl said Superman was hot. I think that was meant to be funny… for some reason. And I think Superman smiled once while flying… or maybe that was just a grimace. Ooh, that bit about his “S” we all remember from the trailer! That was a joke, right? Or was that just awkward setup? I really can’t remember; I was busy having my inner child stomped into submission at the time.

But regardless, surely they don’t mean literally no jokes at all. That would be ludicrous. Almost no movie in the history of cinema can claim to be completely devoid of any kind of humor. Hell, even The Act of Killing had humor in it, and that was the most depressing movie of last year (which I’ll remind you is a year that also gave us 12 Years a Slave and Fruitvale Station).

But even if Warners isn’t being completely literal, what do they think actively discouraging humor will accomplish? Who is this meant to appeal to, exactly? Robots? Vulcans? Oscar the Grouch? Is there a single demographic anywhere in the world that does not like humor at all in their movies? Are there actually people who walk into a film saying, “This movie better not make me laugh, not once”?

It’s weird, because from an outsider’s perspective, it feels like Warner Brothers, a company that’s been making films since 1923, has somehow forgotten how movies work. Humor is one of the basic tools of not just movies, but all forms of storytelling. It provides levity, which in turn provides relief from conflict and tension. Without it, the narrative becomes oppressively dull. Drama and tragedy don’t work when there’s no lighter counterpoint to balance them out. Sadness and anger have no meaning when they’re your character’s default state of being. And absolute stone-faced seriousness at all times makes characters cold and impenetrable, which in turn makes it very difficult for audiences to feel engaged.

Why? Why do this? What is to be gained, exactly? Is there some sort of fear that allowing Batman to ever again crack a smile is to risk another Batman & Robin, from which they must forever run in the opposite direction? Why mandate such dour and joyless tones for superhero movies? Why craft a Superman who spreads mass destruction instead of hope? Who sulks and broods instead of comforts and inspires? Who lives in a world of the worst possible tragedies that somehow have no consequences at all? Why does WB want to ban fun?

And then it hit me: Because Superman is Donald Rumsfeld now.

It came to me while reading about some of the plot details of Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice, specifically in regards to how Superman’s mass-murdering punch up will be viewed by the general public. What do we know? Apparently, they’ve built a statue of Superman. So it would seem the people of Metropolis aren’t terribly upset that he leveled their city and killed most of them. We even know that a crippled Jimmy Olsen may enter the story as a victim of Superman’s rampage, whose role is apparently to be totally cool with his horrific injuries. We’re told he still loves Superman, despite the fact that he, you know, maimed him for life. Because he saved the world, it’s all good.

And suddenly it all becomes clear. This is Christopher Nolan’s right-wing politics working their way into Superman the way they worked their way into Batman. This is turning Superman into a metaphor for U.S. actions in Iraq, by having him destroy an entire city full of innocents to kill one guy, and trying to make us feel like it was completely justified. It doesn’t matter who gets hurt along the way, as long as we get the bad guy. This is basically the misguided U.S. fantasy of the rest of the world loving us for what we’ve done in the Middle East. The filmmakers even give Superman a whole arc about rejecting and then violently destroying the remnants of his alien heritage, and then they throw in that “I’m as American as it gets” scene just to solidify him as America personified.

Regardless of your personal politics, we should all be able to agree on one thing: Superman should never say “It was for the greater good.” The whole point of Superman is he never has to say “It was for the greater good.” He’s so powerful that he always finds a way to save everyone. That’s the fantasy of Superman: The idea of someone who can fix everything, someone who’s incorruptible and can make everything okay.

Superman is not a character for a “post-9/11 world”, where everything has to be dark and morally ambiguous, with of lots of political undertones. That’s why Man of Steel didn’t work, why Dawn of Justice won’t work, and why this “no jokes” policy is a bad idea. They’re trying to force Superman into a mold that wasn’t made for him. And in order for him to fit into it, he has to be stripped of everything that makes him Superman: Hope, optimism… and fun.

#stuff i wrote #agony booth #repost

[prodshima]

arguing and making up

genre: angst to fluff ft. sakusa, akaashi, kuroo x fem!reader

warnings: none

sakusa kiyoomi

guilt rushes through sakusa when he hears your muffled sniffles through the thin walls. he didn’t mean to hurt you, he really didn’t but it’s too late to take it back, is it? he walks over the door and softly knocks on the door twice “baby? let’s talk this out, please?” he asks, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as silently hopes you won’t refuse his offer “leave me alone sakusa” you hiccup between words, he feels a pang on his chest on the mention of his last name, something he hasn’t felt in a long time since he met you. pushing himself off the floor, “this won’t work” he thinks, wiping the stray tear rolling down his cheek before sprinting towards the kitchen. it’s been an hour since and the room is completely silent, your sniffles had gone down and only the soft hiccups could be heard. he enters your shared bedroom and frowns when he sees your body all slumped up on the floor, your eyes puffy and nose red from all the crying. he sits down beside you and ushers you to snuggle on his chest, you fight him for a while before crying when his words rung on your ear once again “baby let me make it up to you, yeah? I know i’m not good at this and i’m so sorry about earlier, i’m sorry i was just stressed at work and i ended up lashing out on you and said things i didn’t mean, you’re not clingy and overbearing, you know that, right?— i know i shouldn’t shout at you regardless but i’ll try harder baby, give me a second chance i won’t mess it up again i promise” he kisses your eyelids softly, reassuring you that he really does mean it, that he’s really willing to try, “don’t be mean to me like that again please” voice cracking as your fingers draw little circles on his chest “it’ll never happen again, i’m so sorry y/n i love you so much” he pushes your hair away your forehead and wipes your tears with his free hand “i got something for you c’mere baby” he engulfs you in his arms, carrying you out of the bedroom. your lips tremble at the view in front of you, a fort where all your favorite food, drinks, pillows and plushies are displayed at the small fort “i love you so much omi” you hug him a little tighter than earlier and he smiles “i love you more than you know i do” “i didn’t know the sakusa kiyoomi was such a sap” “only for you”

akaashi keiji

he runs his finger through his hair in frustration, wincing as the image of your lips trembling when he had called you “easily replaceable” and “annoying” appears on his mind. he mentally beats himself up for not stopping his mouth from spouting things he doesn’t mean, he knows he doesn’t, all 19 years of his life, he had never met someone so understanding, supportive and someone he imagined a future with, sure, he loved those girls he had used to date but no one compares to you. he shifts in his seat as he stares at the clock, it’s already seven in the evening yet you haven’t replied to any of his text messages, he hates on how it’s his fault why you left the house and now he’s looking for you. he perks up from the living room when he hears the door creak slowly, running on the door and frowns when you avoid him and his hug “y/n? i didn’t mean to hurt you and– i didn’t mean it, please baby” he tails behind you like a lost puppy as you put down your things on the counter “you managed to akaashi” you almost scoff when you hear him swallow a lump on his throat, you were about to turn around before two arms grip your waist, you attempt to squirm out of his hold but you notice how he only tightens it more “kaashi let go” “no please” you sigh and let him hug you for a while, until that “while” turns into hours as you fall asleep in his arms. you wake up around ten in the evening, a large figure holding you to his chest as you try to shove off yourself from him but he wakes up and kisses your forehead as he mutters out hundreds and thousands of apologies “y/n i’m sorry, i’m really glad you’re with me and no, no matter where i go i know i’ll never find someone like you, i’m sorry for the way i spoke to you earlier, i was being a dick earlier and i’m really sorry please don’t leave me again” “if you’re having a bad day kaashi just tell me” “it’s keiji to you” “mmh k” “ wait i have something for you hold on” he grabs a big box from under the bed using his left hand, placing it onto your lap “open it” “what is this?” “it’s called a gift for a reason” “keiji”just open it” your eyes widen as soon as you see favorite hoodies, chocolates, and tickets to the band concert you’ve been eyeing since before “keiji..” you pout as he rubs your temple “there’s more but let’s rest for now okay? let’s cuddle now please, i love you so much baby” “love you too”

kuroo tetsuro

honestly, arguments with kuroo weren’t new to your relationship. you’d always somehow have something to argue about, but usually, you’d make up after hours, agreeing that it was petty and childish. however this one is different, you hated how he pushes the right button, and that’s something you manage to live with since before. before you go even dated you knew that kuroo was this kind of boyfriend from all the years of pining him and also the roaming rumors around the school. however, that didn’t stop you from falling in love with him, it only made you, in fact, even more in love. today marks your second anniversary and he was nowhere to be found since early in the morning, maybe he just did something you had think that, even when you knew it was his day off today. it was quarter to eleven when he had arrived, you could hear the keys jingle from the outside. he opens the door, panic in his face as he runs to you, you dodge him in knowing, turning your back against him “you’re a fucking jerk kuroo” you slam the door in his faxe and crawl on the bed before hugging your body tightly, humming to yourself as you try to lull yourself to sleep. kuroo hadn’t felt so shitty before, your anniversary completely disappeared from his mind. he walks back and forth in the kitchen anxiously before grabbing his phone from his pocket, dialing some number. you woke up at 12:45 am, dried tears still visible on the pillow, you don’t cry anymore as you accept that he had completely forgotten about it. you rub your eyes as you tiptoe out of the bedroom, but your heart stops when your eyes land on kuroo who was dressed up in a suit “oh! .. yer awake y/n—look i’m sorry, i really am, i was an asshole for forgetting about our anniversary. you don’t have to forgive me but please give me a chance to make it up to you tonight” he walks towards you and stands straight, offering his arm “wait let me get dressed—“ you look absolutely gorgeous and beautiful y/n” you stare at him before grabbing his arm and walking through the door. your eyes fill up with tears when you arrived at the park, fairy lights surrounding the tree beside the wine, roses, and a cake with “happy 2nd anniversary” written on it on the picnic blanket. he wraps his arm around you, leaving a kiss on your forehead “i’m so—“ “don’t apologize anymore kuroo, let’s just enjoy, please?” you held out your hand which he gladly took in his and kissed the back of it “thank you y/n, i love you so so much” “i love you too tetsu”

© all works belong to @prodshima — do not plagiarize, copy, modify, or claim my works as your own

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fics #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu angst #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa angst #sakusa fluff #sakusa x y/n #akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi fluff #akaashi x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #kuroo scenarios #akaashi scenarios #haikyuu fanfiction

[apompkwrites]

reader impact || first meeting

series masterlist characters: xiao, albedo genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D

xiao's playthrough -

xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.

he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.

valorant? sure, he'll try it out.

hitman? why not?

animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.

when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.

once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.

once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.

as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.

one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.

they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.

he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.

it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.

after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.

he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.

"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."

xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.

but not this time.

once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.

he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.

and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.

"... who are they?"

that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--

oh right, he's streaming right now...

anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.

you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.

once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.

he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.

and then you're gone.

his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.

he just wants to see you again.

once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."

once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.

the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.

however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.

he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.

he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.

"i'll stream genshin again soon."

his viewers all know it's only because he met you.

albedo's playthrough -

albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.

if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.

genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.

(and the opportunity to draw more characters).

he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.

most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.

he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!

what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.

he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.

he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.

once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.

but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY

he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.

he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.

combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...

your honor, he's fallen hard.

he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.

speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.

his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).

his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.

once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.

your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.

his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.

he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.

once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.

you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!

he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.

"who are you? why did you alarm them?"

NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE

even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((

if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.

some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.

he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.

anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.

once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.

man just wants to spend more time with you.

he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.

once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.

"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."

"please don't..."

he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(

anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.

someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.

he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.

for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.

sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.

he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.

he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.

he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!

that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.

he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.

since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.

"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."

"huh?"

"will you be there to stop me?"

"wait... no."

if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.

he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.

he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.

"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."

poor boy's in denial...

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #reader impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact albedo #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #genshin xiao #genshin albedo #genshin impact xiao x reader #genshin impact albedo x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin albedo x reader

[h0tchner]

go team hotchner!

pairing: dad!aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron is coaching jack’s soccer game & reader is in the crowd! aaron & reader are happily married, but another woman’s mean comments and blatant flirting makes the reader jealous. fluffy shenanigans ensue!

word count: 2.5k

includes: FLUFF, jack hotchner is the sweetest, you & aaron are married, jealous!reader, kissing, family planning, & AARON IN A GREY T-SHIRT

rating: 18+ (for VERY brief mentions of sex and a little smidge of cursing)

a/n: i wrote this for @ssahotchswife​’s soft hotch saturday! this is my first published fic, so i hope y’all enjoy. PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Atta boy, Jack!” Aaron yells from the side of the field, clapping his hands as his son scores another goal.

Beaming, you holler from the benches along with the crowd. You watch as your husband jogs up and down the sidelines with ease, keeping up with Jack’s soccer team. It’s a stunning Saturday morning and you are thrilled to spend every moment of it with the Hotchner boys. Your Hotchner boys.

When they asked Aaron to coach the team, how could he say no? After losing Hayley, he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be there for Jack. When you first started dating, Aaron was hesitant to introduce you to his son. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you in Jack’s life, but rather he didn’t want to scare you away. You were a 26-year-old NCIS agent and he was a 40-something FBI agent. You knew he had a son, you knew he was a widow, and you knew he was older than you: but you didn’t care. You loved him. It took a little coaxing to get Aaron to open up to you about his fears, but once he did, you assured him then and there that you weren’t going anywhere. He introduced you to Jack the very same day. Four years later, you and Aaron are stronger than ever.

The ref blows the whistle, calling a break. Aaron motions for the kids to huddle in. He squats on the floor to get on their level, enthusiastically whispering, walking them through the next play. Your heart swells watching him talk to the group of children. Aaron Hotchner, always the hero, the role-model, the leader. Gentle yet powerful: he was intoxicating.

Your eyes dart over his crouched figure; the soft, heather grey of his t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders. You draw in a breath, a memory of last night flooding your senses, remembering how you held on to those shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the bed. You feel your cheeks blush red, and you look up to the sky, shutting your eyes to collect yourself. Damn. Even just the thought of touching him gets your blood up.

You open your eyes, letting your gaze travel back to Aaron’s body, admiring how good his butt looks in those black Adidas track pants. You bite your lip a bit, feeling overwhelmed with joy, knowing that beautiful man, inside and out, was all yours. God, what you wanted to do to...

“Damn he is HOT. Way hotter than the old coach. I think his son is on the team?” A woman’s voice rings out from behind you.

“Yeah, I think so. Did you hear what happened to his first wife? So sad, lost her when his son was little. Apparently he’s shacked up with some 20-something-year-old now.” A second woman’s voice chimes in.

“No way. Him? Married to that? He needs a real woman, not some child. A man that experienced should be with someone his own age. I’m gonna talk to him after the game, see what his deal is.” The first woman replies, voice dripping with venom.

“I think you should!” Agrees the second.

“Oh, I will. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Snickers the first.

They both laugh as you sit frozen in your seat, blinded by a wave of anger and sadness.

Some child? Someone his own age? Their hurtful words pierce right through your heart as you furiously blink back tears.

The ref blows the whistle, and the team scatters back onto the field. The ladies cheer behind you as the game starts back up. It takes all your strength not to break down under the crushing weight of their conversation. You take in some deep breaths, mulling over their comments. You weren’t “some child!” You were a grown-ass woman! You had a job! You were a federal agent! You loved Aaron and Jack: they were your whole world!

As you continue to give yourself a mental pep-talk, the hurt begins to dissipate as you realize how stupid those woman sounded. They didn’t even know you, or Aaron, or anything about your relationship. In that moment, you tell yourself that instead of wallowing in self-doubt, you would stand up to them and make it known that you were the only one for Aaron.

Just like that: you begin to feel a bit better. You focus all your attention on Aaron and Jack, letting the game fly by. You ignore the ladies gossiping behind you, and, by the time the kids are lining up to give the other team high-fives, you had pulled yourself together and come up with a plan to put these ladies right back in their place. You just had to wait for the right time to make your move.

“Wish me luck!” squeals the first woman. You can feel her getting up from the bleachers behind you.

“Go get him, girl!” sasses the second.

You watch as the woman walks down the aisle, her straight blonde ponytail swishing as she goes. She’s wearing blue-jean shorts and a white lace top: an outfit you’ve seen before on a hundred women who looked just like her. In any other circumstance you’d applaud her efforts (girls supporting girls, right?) but this was your man she had her sights on. No way. Not a chance. She wasn’t going to lay a single pink manicured finger on him.

Aaron is talking to the ref and the other team’s coach when she taps him on the shoulder.

Oh HELL no. You think, frowning.

He turns around and gives her a small, polite smile. You can’t hear the exchange, but after a few moments, she sticks out her hand to shake his, laughing. Aaron curtly returns the shake and turns back to finish up his prior conversation; but, this time, the blonde woman puts a hand on his arm again, lightly pulling him away. Your blood begins to boil. She gestures to the pack of kids, now getting drinks and snacks from the fold-up table next to the bleachers. Aaron nods, pointing over to where Jack is standing, sipping on some lemonade. She puts her hand on his arm again and tilts her head.

You decide it has been long enough. It’s go time.

You walk down the bleachers, picking up the hem of your baby blue floral sundress so you wouldn’t step on it as you descended.

The woman is still all over Aaron, clearly flirting. Aaron’s arms are crossed over his chest, lips in a terse smile. It didn’t take a profiler to know that his behaviour screamed “get me out of here.”

You fluff your hair a bit, letting it fall loosely around your face. With confidence, your feet hit the soft grass and you head towards your husband.

“Aaron!” you call out, waving and smiling as you near him, shooting daggers at the blonde woman by his side.

The moment he sees you approaching, you watch his entire demeanour change.

“Y/N!” he grins, excusing himself from the woman.

She whips around to face you with a vengeance as Aaron scoops you up, tanned arms firm around your middle. He spins you around as you laugh, surprised, looking down at him with pure elation.

He sets you down and, before you have a chance to say anything else, grabs your face in his hands, crashing his mouth into yours. You throw your arms around his neck and card your fingers in his hair, kissing him with the same fervour.

You can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It’s hot and dominating: something about winning a game makes Aaron primal and giddy. You certainly aren’t complaining.

He breaks the kiss and lets his hands fall to your waist, squeezing lightly.

“Congrats on the win, Coach Hotchner.” You smile as you brush a lock of sweaty black hair off his forehead.

“Couldn’t have done it without my favourite cheerleader, Mrs. Hotchner.” He winks, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Oh yeah?” You prod, cocking your head, looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes. “Who would that be?”

“Hm.” He pauses, looking up pensively.

He wraps his arms even tighter around your middle and dips his head down, whispering one word in your ear: “You.”

You laugh, swaying with him for a moment, capturing his lips in another kiss. As you pull apart, out of the corner of your eye you watch as the blonde woman stands frozen to the same spot, mouth agape. You smirk, feeling satisfied and self-assured knowing your little scheme was a success.

Then, like a rocket, you see Jack running towards you with a mile-wide grin on his flushed face.

“Y/N! Did you see? Did you see me make two goals?” Jack exclaims.

“Yeah buddy, I saw the whole thing!” You capture him in a bear hug, kissing the top of his head. You ruffle his hair and kneel down, looking into his soft brown eyes.

“I’m so proud of you. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I love soccer!” Jack nods.

“You did a great job Jack.” Aaron says, helping you stand. He wraps an arm around your waist and looks lovingly down at his son.

“You’re our soccer superstar.” You add, glancing between Jack and Aaron with unbridled joy. “Now go! Go back to your friends!” You laugh, shooing him away, back to the group of sweaty 8-year-olds and their snacks.

You stand there with Aaron, snaking your arm around his back to match his around yours. You both watch as Jack bounds off. A quick glance to the side shows that the blonde woman is long gone, probably stomping back up to her friend to whine and call you more names.

“Is she gone?” Aaron murmurs into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

You stutter, “How... how did you?” You trail off in disbelief.

“Oh please,” he smirks, “I had to stop you from practically biting her head off when you walked over.”

“Aaron!” you yelp, mocking upset. “You should’ve let me at her.”

He chuckles, lips twitching into a smile as he quirks one eyebrow up. “I couldn’t have my wife fighting with the aunt of one of my players. It’d reflect poorly on me.”

“She called me a child. Said that you should be with someone your own age. I think that warrants a free pass.”

His joking manner stops abruptly at your declaration. “That’s ridiculous and you know it,” he furrows his brow, shaking his head lightly.

You reach up and run your fingers over his scrunched forehead, soothing the lines into something softer.

“I know,” you nod.

Aaron pulls you into his side, wordless. Fingers tracing lightly over your hip. You knew he was thinking the same thing: no matter what they said, you knew in your heart that you and Aaron were meant to be. Age be damned. He was yours and you were his: forever. Simple as that.

“Mmm,” you sigh, taking in the beauty of the moment. You smile at the clear sky, the fresh air, and the feeling of the man you loved, right by your side. You two watch Jack as he talks and laughs with the other kids. He looks so happy to be surrounded by them: a natural conversationalist. You can’t help but start to think about how he would be the best big brother in the whole world. It makes your breath hitch in your throat a bit.

“What is it?” Aaron gives your side a squeeze.

Of course he could sense when your thoughts began to wander. Aaron was a man of many talents.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You look up at him with a reassuring glance, returning the squeeze.

“Y/N...” Aaron trails off, hazel-brown eyes searing into yours.

Damn your gaze, Hotchner.

You look away, letting your arm drop from his waist and move to step away a bit: he grabs for your hand instinctively, keeping you next to him. His big hands engulf your small ones, fingers entwined.

You know he is still staring at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet. Your eyes refocus on Jack.

“I was... I was thinking,” you begin. “I love you. I love you so much, no matter what anybody else says. And I love Jack like he’s my own.”

You breathed in, prepping yourself mentally for what you were about to say next.

“Jack is so good with other kids.” You continue, “He loves being social, being a teammate.”

You gather the strength to meet your husband’s famous glare.

“And watching you coach these kids? You’re so good with them, Aaron. You make every one of them feel special. You give 110% of your heart, and I am so lucky to be your co-coach in life.” You tell him in earnest.

“Aaron,” you carry on, emboldened, “I think it’s time we added a new member to the Hotchner team” you finish, searching every inch of Aaron’s face for recognition.

You watch as he takes in the information. After a few beats, it clicks.

“Y/N,” his expression softens, “Do you want to have a baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, eyes wide and hopeful.

Aaron nearly explodes with happiness; his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you, unable to speak. And then, his warm body envelopes yours, solid but soft: unmistakably Aaron.

You let out a shaky laugh and bury your head in his neck, breathing in the smell of cologne and light sweat.

He pulls back a little, one hand tilting your chin up to look at him.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Does that mean yes?” you ask, in a small voice.

Aaron laughs again, letting out a sigh. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Yes,” he says, giddy. “Let’s have a baby.”

The sound of children laughing fills your ears as you grab the back of his head and pull Aaron into a soft kiss. The kiss is full of promise: a gentle pact, sealing the deal. You and Aaron were going to have a baby. Jack was going to have a little brother or sister.

You pull away, arms still around his neck.

“I love you, Aaron.” You breathe out.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispers back.

Nobody on this planet could shake the bond you and Aaron had. Suburban soccer moms be damned.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #my content #my fics #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dad!hotch #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotch #cm fanfic #jack hotchner #hayley hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fic #sex ment #imagine #female reader #ssahotchswife #soft hotch saturday #soft hotch #dad hotch #married #go team hotchner!

[myrulia]

About the Kokushibou x Muzan little sister ask can I get prompt 8 please 😅 sorry for the inconvenience.

.｡.:*✧Prompt 8: "It feels right, promise I don't mind."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Slight sexual tension

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: If an appearance/personality is made evident, then it is because you are related to Muzan.

`` [Y/N], my beloved sister, have you considered ever finding a suitable partner such as I did? ``

Your elder brother, Lord Kibutsuji Muzan, spoke as you both were seated in one of the many rooms of the Infinity Castle that was well away from everyone else since your discussion held private matters. 

`` Brother, you made your past wives go insane, and the one you have now is a fake. So therefore, it does not count. ``

Muzan let out a huff of annoyance at the same time you did, the habit being something you both inherited unfortunately which led to the Upper Moon Two to tease you about, which led to him becoming disciplined right after.

`` That is not the point. [Y/N], I do not want you to be alone- ``

`` But I'm not alone, I have you and the other Upper Moons..- ``

`` Ah yes, the Upper Moons you say? ``

There was a glint of mischievousness in Muzan's eyes that you became all too accustomed with, knowing he was coming up with a great plan that you know utterly nothing about. Truth be told, finding a partner would not seem like the worst thing, but your stubbornness has stopped you from giving into your older brother's wishes.

`` Since you brought up the Upper Moons, I'll start from there. ``

You quirked a brow up in response to his choice of words, crossing your arms habitually and holding the same accursed scowl Muzan would also make during his meetings.

`` Why don't you get to know them, `` he started, referring to the higher ranks. `` The Upper Three ranks would make suitable partners and would have no trouble protecting you when I am absent. ``

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to see a somewhat decent future with any of them. Sure, the idea had its pros, but far too many cons, especially with Douma. He was tall and handsome, sure, but had little to no emotions whatsoever and was too much of a masochist for you to handle.

Then there is Akaza. He was respectful to women and you actually found that trait attractive, but he was too focused on becoming strong and probably would not even give you the attention you would need.

Lastly, Kokushibou. An even taller demon who was quiet, well reserved, and surprisingly good looking despite having three sets of eyes. For once, you did not know the male's motives due to his nature, which allured you to him further. You have tried to strike up a conversation but he was quick to end it and would disappear somewhere else in the Castle.

`` Muzan, I would never consider Douma suitable, Akaza is a 50/50 chance, but Kokushibou- well..- ``

`` Well? ``

You wanted to voice out your opinion of the Upper Moon One to your brother, but knowing him, he would rat you out instantly just so that your relationship with him would get a move on so he can be satisfied.

`` Actually, nevermind, I'll take some time to think about it brother. ``

You got up from your chair and exited from the large room, jumping from the balcony and onto another platform. You repeated this process until you were well away from Muzan's quarters.

You were not even set on a destination, you just wanted to clear your head of his desire to find you a future husband. The idea was not a bad one, in fact it was a smart move in the first place, but it felt forced and not genuine to have to pick based off your brother telling you to.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not notice the large figure just in front of you, and before you knew it, you bumped right into the figure's back, causing it to fall over with you on top. 

`` Who- ``

`` I apologize! `` You blurted out before the voice could finish. `` I was not looking where I was going and ended up tumbling onto you so I'm sorry. ``

You quickly got off of the large figure who also stood up and adjusted his hakama accordingly that got slightly messed up in the fall. Once the figure is turned around, you are met with 3 pairs of eyes glaring down at your shorter form. It was none other than Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Rank One based on the kanji in his eyes. You look stunned as you take in his appearance. You expected a much more piercing gaze due to him usually having one, but instead of that, his face was more relaxed and dare I say neutral.

`` There is no need princess, `` the male said as he bowed in respect, not daring to leave unless you order for him to do so. The demons that lurked around the Castle were ordered by your high and mighty older brother to refer to you as "Princess" since he deems himself as the king. You objected of course, but in this moment you had no ounce of rejection to give. Usually you would dismiss the demons that call you such a thing, but it felt different with Kokushibou.

`` Still I bumped into yo- nevermind. Kokushibou I can trust you right? ``

Your question came out of the blue for the demon. Why were you suddenly asking if you can trust a man like him? Of course he did devote his life to both you and Muzan but his inner feelings and self doubt block himself from doing so fully. You always made things difficult for him.

`` Yes, you can entrust me with your life. ``

`` Are you only saying that because my brother told you to, or are you genuine? ``

The demon was rather taken aback by your bold choice of words, his eyes slightly enlarging before going back to a neutral expression. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, confusion taking over his features.

`` Why would I not want to protect someone dear to me? ``

You took a singular step back, desperately fighting the heat rushing to your cheeks and so to not embarrass yourself in front of him you covered the bottom half of your face and feigning a look of pondering. 

`` If you are genuine as you claim to be, then I shall tell you. Muzan wants me to find a suitable partner. ``

You were blunt yet again, believing that sugarcoating information only draws away time that could be spent doing something much more worthwhile. You removed your hand from your face, now holding a stern look with the much taller Upper Moon whose expression has shifted. A visible vein was pulsing on his neck that you learned was due to annoyance.

`` Have you found anyone? `` Kokushibou said with no clear indication of aggravation, but you knew of the male's habits from the years that you have you have to learn of the Upper ranks and their habits. You stepped closer towards him until your chest dangerously brushed against his, your hand reaching up to his hand and grabbing it gently. Kokushibou tensed up at the feeling of your soft hand being interlocked with his, so much so that he could not take his eyes off of your enticing ones. 

`` Yes. You. ``

You stood on your tippy toes just to move closer to his face. His height may have been an obstacle but you succeeded, leaving the demon to be well enough flustered for it to be noticeable. Your little manipulative tactics resembled those of Muzan's, you are siblings after all. You tugged your hand away from his, sliding it up his forearm ever so slowly and to his chest, resting there and not daring to break the eye contact you have built.

`` Even though I am directly blood related to Muzan, would you be willing to be my partner and love me for who I am instead of who I am related to? ``

Kokushibou was well aware of what you meant with those words, after all he himself is very intelligent and could see through your advances. But even so, he found himself falling for them time and time again. You could simply be doing your hair and his mind would wander to how your raven locks would feel in between his fingers. With you being his Lord's younger sister, he thought it would be practically sinning to think of you in such ways, but now that the opportunity presented itself, he would not let it slip from his grasp.

`` It feels right, promise I don't mind. ``

`` That's all I needed to hear from you Kokushibou. `` 

It took one small lean forward for your lips to land on his. Kokushibou instinctively returned the kiss as if he was programed to do so, except it was his full will driving him forward to finally have you as his own. To be able to have you by his side was almost a dream come true for him without even realizing it. Demons are essentially deprived of any real feeling so to have you return his feelings of infatuation fed into his desire all the same.

Although before the kiss could turn into a much more scandalous one, you retracted, but cupped his face in your hands.

`` Would He approve of this? `` Kokushibou asked whilst peering into your enchanting eyes again. His hands had moved to your waist but were quickly removed after the kiss, his own fears blocking him from allowing himself to submit to your enticing touch.

`` I don't need his approval, I am my own person who can make her own decisions. But, it was his idea so there is no need to worry. ``

`` That is all I needed to hear. ``

Kokushibou was the one who leaned forward this time, but before your lips could connect, he went to your neck and bit on your skin harshly which was bound to leave a mark. You gripped at his hair and tugged him away from your neck after you let out a small whine since your greed was increasing.

`` I am simply marking what is mine now, isn't that right, Princess? ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

#kokushibou #kny kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer kokushibou #kny headcanons #kokushibou headcanons #kny muzan #☆Myrulia Lyric Prompts

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

I LOVE your meta on how essek was the perfect asset and want to ask the follow-up question in your tags: how do you think it went down? The agreement between Essek and the Assembly? And I think the fandom was convinced Essek would be disposed of after the peace talks — how do you see his future if there was no intervention by the Mighty Nein in 97?

ruvi-muffin asked:

What are your specific thoughts abt how ludinus recruited essek??👀👀 oh Person who knows a surprising amount of spy stuff 🙏🙏🙏👀👀👀

Anonymous asked:

PLEASE share your specific thoughts about how Essek was recruited, I'm so intrigued!

Anonymous asked:

Hello yes i am very interested in these very specific thoughts about how Essek got recruited? All these things about how actual intelligence works/uses their assets/how that ties to Essek and the M9 is really interesting :D

Thank you all so much for asking me the specific question I wanted someone to ask. I had to write and rewrite this post a half-dozen times because I kept going off on tangents about other Cold War spy stories so trust me there’s plenty more where this came from.

For reference, my original post on what made Essek an ideal recruitment target and why the M9 were the ideal counter to it.

First off, this is all based on real-world intelligence ops and is only as relevant to the campaign as Matt Mercer cares to make it. Having said that *slams notebook on table* BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS.

There are two ways Essek may have been recruited: he approached the Assembly or the Assembly approached him. I think the Assembly approached him. Not to be too hard on the guy, but Essek said it himself: he’s kind of a coward. I can’t see him mustering up the nerve to take that first step. Plus his espionage seems to have focused specifically on the beacons rather than dunamancy as a whole; that sounds like the Assembly to me. The beacons specifically offer the prospect of immortality and the Cerberus mages are arrogant enough to assume they can figure out dunamancy themselves if they have a beacon in hand. There’s no way the Assembly haven’t been trying to beg, borrow, or steal those beacons for centuries. Essek may not have even been their first try - just the first that worked. 

Chronologically, Essek would have popped up on either the Assembly or the Augen Trust’s radar quite early as I assume they keep tabs on all powerful Dynasty mages. As they followed his career, the Assembly would have ID’d Essek as a perfect target for recruitment as a spy, and then further for ego-based recruitment. Recruitment for espionage is a slow process - even slower in a fantasy world where some races reasonably expect to live 500+ years. Many intelligence agencies will do a sort of light meet-and-greet just to start a file on various people who might years later be of interest. The Assembly would have cultivated Essek as an intelligence asset with the same degree of time and care - and using some of the same methods - that Trent used to turn the Blumenthal trio into assassins. 

If they followed a modern playbook, they would have made contact with Essek anywhere from 2 to 10 years before the theft - nothing underhanded. A Cerberus mage approaches him at a negotiation or conference and strikes up a conversation. Then it’s increasing “chance” encounters to get Essek familiar with the handler, play the “we’re both mages, really we’re on the same side” angle to earn enough sympathy & trust to start talking regularly. Once the channel’s open, the handler and asset meet and/or talk routinely while the handler assesses the target’s motives, weaknesses, and the possibility that they’re a double agent. 

Espionage proper then starts with small favors, acts Essek can rationalize as victimless or even helpful to the Dynasty. In this stage the handler is getting the asset comfortable with engaging in espionage. They reward the asset for what feels like minimal moral trespass. For Essek that would have been praising his research, encouraging avenues of investigation they knew the Dynasty had shut down. Having meetings with Ludinus plays right into the ego trip - the Head of the Assembly himself is taking the time to meet with him! The Assembly gets how important this work is! That keeps Essek isolated from Dynasty members who might convince him to take a step back and builds loyalty to the Assembly over the Dynasty.

Once an asset settles in, espionage becomes easier. Routines get established. Moral hurdles have been overcome. Now the asks get bigger and the rewards get sparser. The handler will suggest larger acts just to get the asset thinking about them, since the more they consider “just hypothetically” how to pull it off, the more likely it is they’ll do it. This is where the idea of stealing the beacons would get introduced (though of course it’s been the goal all along.) I’ll bet the Assembly hinted at all the study that could be done if they could just get to the beacons in person, constantly bemoaning the lack of access. By now Essek sees the Assembly as colleagues in arcane pursuits, kindred minds, unlike the boring, stuffy old mages of the Dynasty. Of course he could outwit the Dynasty’s security and get the beacons to the Assembly - he’s a prodigy, a genius, everyone says so. And it’s not like he was stealing all of them. The consecuted would be fine. Everyone would be fine.

None of this is intended to absolve Essek of personal responsibility. But it provides a context for his actions, and for why he might regret them so much even though he apparently did them willingly. Asset handlers are very, very good at drawing someone willing to commit minor transgressions into far greater crimes. Look at how Trent shaped Caleb, Astrid, and Eadwulf. He didn’t order them to execute their own parents on day one. He spent years coaxing, tempting, and coercing them into darker and darker crimes, letting them rationalize their own actions at each step, preying on the same vulnerabilities as Essek: isolation (separating the three from other students, telling them their work was secret), ambition (the promise of great arcane power, of shaping the Empire’s destiny), and ego (”we were going to keep the empire safe,” telling them they were gifted, they were chosen).

So how do IRL spies rationalize their actions? Those who spy for reasons of conscience or ideology have done the rationalizing ahead of time, but everyone else has to get there somehow. Some who spy for revenge tell themselves it’s what their superiors deserve, while others tell themselves everyone’s doing it. Some just need a lie to get started (most commonly about who they’re spying for), while others have to keep up the charade all along. Let’s look at a few cases similar to Essek’s that demonstrate just how slippery the slope can be.

Aldrich Ames, a long-term CIA officer slash double agent for the KGB, got suckered in by thinking he could control the situation and wasn’t really hurting anyone. Ames had chronic financial trouble related to excessive drinking & his wife’s lavish lifestyle and in 1985 came up with a plan: he would essentially con the KGB by selling them a minor amount of classified info that he deemed “virtually worthless.” In April he set up the exchange and the KGB paid him $50,000, enough to satisfy his immediate debts. But after actually doing it Ames said he felt he’d now crossed a line he couldn’t step back from, and continued to sell information to the Soviets. By the time he was caught he had, by his own admission, compromised “virtually all Soviet agents of the CIA.”

While some assets just need a lie to get started, others require a delicate dance of self-delusion. Col. George Trofimoff was an Army officer who ran the center where would-be Soviet defectors were assessed & questioned. Trofimoff, a Russian émigré at a young age, was chronically in debt. In 1969 he renewed his acquaintance with his stepbrother back in Russia, now a bishop in the Russian Orthodox Church, and began to pass secrets in return for money - but he and his stepbrother never framed the transactions as such. Trofimoff described their meetings as, “very informal. ... First, it was just a conversation between the two of us. He would ask my opinion on this and that--then, he would maybe ask me, 'Well, what does your unit think about it?' Or, 'What does the American government think about it?’” His compensation was similarly informal: “I said I needed money. ... And he says, 'I tell you what, I'll loan it to you.' So he gave me, I think, 5,000 marks and then, it wasn't enough, because I needed more. ... Then he says, 'Well, you know, I'll tell you what. You don't owe me any money. And if you need some more, I can give you some more. Don't worry about it. You're going to have to have a few things, this and that.' And this is how it started.” Trofimoff could pretend to himself that he wasn’t really spying - just having a chat with his stepbrother - and wasn’t really getting paid for it - just borrowing a little money.

This got longer than I intended it to be and there’s still plenty to talk about, so I’ll save the rest for a second post. Next time: what happens long-term to espionage assets? And what happens if an asset regrets their actions and/or attempts to cut off contact with their handlers?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

#Critical Role #Essek Thelyss #tradecraft #mostly Cold-War-related tradecraft TBH #hot boi got ROLLED by the Assembly though #sounds like he didn't even get paid! #I do wonder at stealing TWO beacons though #why two? what was wrong with one? #maybe Essek was just showing off at that point #it's been a long pandemic

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 

ok last thing abt diluc 

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 

all in all, life w him is so sweet 

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy. 

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 

the real, damaged pieces of his soul 

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES 

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 

life with her literally feels like y’all are married 

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin jean #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #jean x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #genshin jean x reader #genshin kaeya x reader #genshin diluc x reader #jean #kaeya #kaeya alberich #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #kaeya-x-reader #jean-x-reader #diluc-x-reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios

[gladerscake]

Blind Spots

(Gally x Reader)

Another lengthy one, because self-restraint means nothing to me. Major fluff ahead. Hope you enjoy!

Gally was back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. All this time, for the last six months, your grieving heart had wept for him, quietly, while you did your best to put on a brave facade and seem alright on the outside. You always made sure that none of your friends could see exactly how much pain you were in. They didn’t need to know. They couldn’t have done anything to change it, and their looks of pity wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. So you kept it locked away, only letting it torment you at night, while everyone else were asleep and couldn’t hear you cry.

And now, seeing him again, alive and relatively unharmed… Truthfully, you were still processing it, but even through your heavy state of shock, every fiber of your being was reeling with joy and relief. You felt a little light-headed, but in the best possible way. Feeling his muscular arms around you again, his warm embrace, looking into his piercing bluish-green eyes that shined into yours with the same undiluted love they had back in the glade… It had almost made you dizzy, and you were surprised at yourself for not having passed out - for a moment there, it felt like you might have.

You never stopped loving Gally, not for one moment. Despite having been convinced you’d never see him again, there was no force in the world strong enough to make you forget him or even begin letting him go.

Having him back filled you with a happiness you had long given up on experiencing ever again. You hadn’t felt anything close to it since the day you thought you’d lost him. The worst day of your life, your most haunting memory… No. You refused to think about it again. It didn’t matter anymore, because Gally was alive, and that’s what you needed to focus on. The light inside you, the one you thought had died with him, was flickering back to life again. It was flourishing and spreading with each passing second, as you realized you were no longer bound to imagine a future that he wouldn’t be in. The bleak and cheerless future you had laid out for yourself was rapidly dispersing before your eyes, giving way to something brighter, something much more hopeful and promising.

However, as much as you wanted to let the euphoria of having Gally by your side again consume you entirely, you knew you couldn’t. Not completely. You still had a mission, a dangerous and inordinately challenging one - rescuing Minho. You could already feel what a “fun adventure” this was going to be…

You had just met Lawrence, and although he’d initially stated that only two people were allowed to be shown the way into the city, Gally managed to bargain for three. The third one being, unsurprisingly, you. He had just got you back, and he wasn’t ready to let you out of his sight, if he had anything to say about it. Not that you minded - you had no desire to be far away from him either. You’d had more than enough of that.

“So… That’s the dead boyfriend, huh?” Brenda asked with a cheeky smile as she walked beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Gally was walking ahead, leading you all somewhere only he knew, as you were making sure to keep up.

“Yeah… That’s him.” You responded, keeping your voice down, a slightly dazed grin pulling at the corner of your lips. ‘Not dead anymore’ your heart seemed to whisper in utter excitement.

“He’s different from what I’d imagined!” Your dark-haired friend mused out loud, causing your brow to quirk upwards as you shot her a confused glance.

“Different how?”

“Just different…” Brenda shrugged, her smile widening before she lightly punched you in the arm. “But I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really. Most people don’t get a second chance like this.”

Your grin grew brighter, eyes landing on Gally’s broad back as your abdomen swarmed with butterflies. You were well aware of how minuscule the odds were of a past love ‘coming back from the dead’. Yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe, after all you and Gally had endured, you deserved that second chance.

“I know…”

Soon enough, Gally led you all into a closed-off area of the base, a rather filthy room with a large covered pothole in the middle and a ladder propped up against one of the walls. You took a moment to examine your surroundings, while the rest did the same, all exchanging equally questioning looks.

Before you could ask what this place was, you suddenly felt a large and warm hand descend onto your shoulder. There was no way for you to not know, immediately, who it belonged to. Your question died in your throat as you turned around to face him.

Gally squeezed your shoulder with as much comfort as he could manage, his bright eyes staring, deeply, into yours, making your heart leap. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell you and talk to you about, but the number of people surrounding you was preventing him from doing so. He so badly wanted to be alone with you. Even if just for a few minutes… All he could do was hope that there will be time for that later. You two had plenty to catch up on, and he couldn’t wait for a chance at it.

“You alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” He whispered, hoarsely, scanning you for any sign of even minor injury.

You breathed a slightly quivering chuckle, shaking your head and covering Gally’s hand with your own, the mere contact reminding you of the closeness you and him once shared… and will share again, now that he was back.

“I’m okay, definitely. Much better now…” You whispered in response, your eyes gleaming up at him. A small but sincere smile formed on his lips as he looked at you. He knew what you meant by that - he felt the exact same way. He had been afraid that after everything that’s happened, your feelings for him may have dimmed, or even worse, trickled away altogether. But with the way you were looking at him now, with such warmth and sheer affection, Gally felt those heartbreaking thoughts melt away. You still loved him. Just as much as he loved you. Even if only one person was genuinely happy to see him again, he couldn’t be more thankful that it was you.

Ignoring the presence of your friends, Gally pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. You bit down on your bottom lip, the sweet gesture almost bringing fresh tears to your eyes. However, the next moment, he drew back, gazing down at you “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to grab a couple things before we can go.”

You nodded, understandingly, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting go “Of course.. We’ll be right here.”

Gally delivered you one more subtle smile before leaving you and the others to look around a bit.

“By the looks of it, we’re going down the bloody sewer.” Newt assumed, eyeing the pothole with slight confusion and just a hint of disgust.

“Wouldn’t be the worst place you’ve been to so far, no?” Jorge scoffed, arms folded on his chest as he stayed close to Brenda.

Frypan chuckled, lowly, glancing at the ladder “True that…”

Although most of your friends had seemingly chosen to look away and act oblivious to your and Gally’s little exchange, one person had not.

Thomas’ dark eyes darted to you, uneasily, every muscle in his body strained and jaw clenched, tensely, as he nudged you in the side.

“Y/N… Can we talk for a second?” He all but grunted, clearing his throat.

“No.” The blatant response tumbled from your lips without hesitation, despite the calmness of your tone.

You already knew what was on his mind. You didn’t want to hear it. Thomas was a close friend and very dear to your heart, but this wasn’t something he had a say in. You knew how he felt about Gally, so naturally, the thought of you two together again did not particularly thrill him. Nonetheless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If Thomas had a problem with it, then that’s just something he would have to learn to deal with.

“Y/N…” Thomas tried again, more insistently this time “Please…”

You felt him grip your forearm, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to let you know that he needed to speak with you, now, and he wouldn’t let go until you at least attempted to hear him out.

Drawing in a heavy sigh, you shot him a sharp pointed look.

“Fine.” You muttered, curtly. You decided you would give him a chance to just get it off his chest. Nothing he’d say could possibly change your mind, regardless.

With that, Thomas briskly slipped out of the room, as you reluctantly followed him. Once you two were a few feet away from the others, you halted to a stop, not wanting to go too far.

“Can’t imagine what’s so urgent.” You huffed, quietly, your arms crossing as you stared, expectantly, at your friend. “Well? Come on, let’s hear it.”

Thomas frowned, his features painted with exasperation “Y/N, before you go running back to him-“

“I already did.” You hastily cut him off, trying to keep your expression as placid as you could. “Thomas, there’s nothing you can do. You know how I feel.”

He grimaced, his mind refusing to wrap around it. What was it about Gally? How could you so easily forget what had happened and welcome him back with open arms?

“Seriously…? After what he did?” He stared at you in disbelief, dark brown eyes narrowing.

You gritted your teeth, staring right back at him, endeavouring to suppress your own bubbling comtempt for the subject “What happened to Chuck wasn’t Gally’s fault.”

“He shot him, Y/N!”

“It was an accident, Thomas!” Your voice had risen, finally, your hands clenching into fists. You had had this exact argument with him before and you couldn’t stand hearing it for one more second. “Whether you want to admit it or not! You were there - you know exactly what happened!”

Thomas, much to your surprise, fell silent. His mouth twitched as he looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense. Yet, deep down, even though he despised the idea of conceding, a small part of him knew you weren’t entirely wrong.

You took advantage of his silence and continued. You had every intention of standing your ground on this. “Gally never would’ve hurt Chuck! He wasn’t aiming for him! And what part of “he was stung” keeps getting lost on you? Have you forgotten what that does to a person? Because I haven’t!”

“Yeah, he was stung, but he could have-“

“No, he couldn’t have!” Your hands were practically shaking by now, a lump had formed in your throat “He wasn’t himself, he had no control over what he was doing! You just want to blame him, because it’s easy!”

Thomas glowered “I don’t get it… I really don’t, what is it about him?”

“What is it about Teresa?” You countered, not missing a beat.

At that, Thomas trailed off, the familiar pang of hurt shooting through his limbs. Something that occurred every time he thought about her, since the day of her disastrous betrayal.

You huffed, knowing you had struck a nerve, but also knowing that you were right “Come on, look at me and tell me that if she showed up right now, looked at you with those big blue eyes and told you how sorry she was, how much she regretted the whole thing, you wouldn’t immediately want her back.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You would!” You noted the way Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, as well as the way his knuckles were already turning white. “You would, Thomas… You damn well know it.”

He shook his head, the inner conflict swirling prominently in his dark eyes as his tone dipped “She would have to do a lot more than apologize.”

“Yeah, but you still wouldn’t turn her away.” You retorted, firmly, your penetrating gaze not leaving him.

Silence. Heavy, deafening silence that spoke for itself.

Thomas remained unmoving, his shoulders sagging as he peered at you, solemnly. You didn’t break the agitated eye contact, merely taking a step back.

“That’s what I thought. I guess we both have our blind spots.”

The dark-haired boy looked away from your eyes, finding himself tragically at a loss for words. He hated that you were right. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he knew that even after what Teresa had done, he still cared for her. If he were to see her again… He highly doubted he would forgive her instantly, especially while WICKED still had Minho, but if she were to have a change of heart and choose to be on their side again… He knew he would have an agonizingly hard time discarding her.

You watched Thomas’ demeanor shift, his tense expression softening as he exhaled in defeat. Evidently the thought of trying to get you to keep your distance with Gally was no longer the dominant one on his mind. You took no joy in fighting with him, but Thomas needed to understand exactly where you stood, on all counts. You didn’t need his approval on this. You and Gally were together, and if Thomas, as your friend, couldn’t be happy for you, then the least he could was stay out of it.

“At least mine isn’t torturing our friend right now.” You gritted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas heard it clearly, though. His gaze shot up to meet yours once more, and you almost winced at the miserable glint in his eyes. You suddenly felt like you had just kicked a puppy. Was that a little harsh? Maybe. Was it accurate? Unfortunately, it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel bad, your compassion prevailing. You and Thomas may have had moments where you didn’t see eye to eye, but he was a good and loyal friend to you. There was no need to hit him where it hurt.

“I’m sorry…” You breathed out, giving him a forlorn, apologetic look.

Thomas only shrugged in response, eyes momentarily averting to the ground “No, you’re right. I just…” He inhaled, deeply, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his head in irritation “I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

You delivered him a soft smile, touched by his concern, even though there was no need for it. At least not in that regard “Gally is not going to hurt me.”

Your friend responded with a tight-lipped smile that read ‘I hope that’s true’, before turning away and beginning to walk back to the room the rest of your friends were in. You were about to follow him, until… you realized how badly you needed just a few minutes alone with Gally, before you, him, Thomas, and Newt would venture into the city. You didn’t know just how dangerous the path was, and you couldn’t bear the idea of something terrible happening along the way. Sure, you could be optimistic and wait until after you all got back, but… could you? Could you really? You had missed him so much, and so far you’d only managed to say a few words to each other.

Oh, screw it. You were not asking for much. You needed it, so you were going to take it.

With a quick look-around, you turned on your heels, following in the direction you thought you’d seen Gally go. Sadly, as you reached the spot where he had disappeared from your line of vision, you had no idea where to go from there.

People were bustling all around you, some reloading their rifles, others fixing their gas masks. In one of the rebels, you recognized the guy that had stood behind Lawrence, while you all were being introduced to him, earlier. You thought his name was… Jasper? Whatever. Clearly he knew Gally, so you hoped he would know where he would have gone to.

You cleared your throat, striding up to him with as much confidence as you had been able to gather “Hi! I’m sorry, do you know where Gally’s room is? Or… wherever it is that he sleeps around here?”

The rugged man looked you up and down, a strangely amused smirk curving his slightly crooked mouth. It confused you and almost made you feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make you retreat without an answer.

“You must be the girlfriend? From the maze? The one he wouldn’t shut up about finding?” He rasped, snickering under his breath.

You relaxed, inwardly, glad that you had apparently picked the right person to ask. Also, hearing that Gally had mentioned you during his time here, undoubtedly made you smile on the inside.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. So where can I find him?”

The rebel chuckled, pointing upwards to the corridor a level above that led to the more secluded parts of the base “Right up there, seventh door on the left.”

You muttered a quiet ‘Thank you’ before scurrying off, hoping you would, in fact, find him there. Soon, you made your way down the corridor, your gaze bouncing from one door to the next one. Five, six… seven.

Your heartbeat suddenly began quickening as you stared at the tattered, scratched-up door in front of you. You allowed yourself to take a deep breath before finally knocking.

“Yeah?”

You exhaled in relief, a smile instantly making its way onto your lips. Gally’s voice. He was in there.

“Gally…? It’s me. Can I come in?”

After a short pause, he replied.

“Of course. I’m just about done here.”

You pushed the door open with a slight ‘creak’, and there you were met with a sight that brought a burgeoning blush to your cheeks. Gally’s bare back was turned to you as he was changing, about to reach for a grey hoodie that was draped over an old wooden chair. You could see his toned muscles tensing, every crevice generously offered to your view, as you felt your face grow hotter. He looked even stronger than he did back in the glade, his form even more glorious than you remembered it.

You didn’t get to remain in your trance for too long though, as Gally slipped the hoodie over his head and turned around to face you, a loving grin playing at his lips.

“How’d you know where to find me?” He arched a curious brow, making his way over until he was standing right in front of you.

You smiled and took a step closer, minimising the distance between the two of you and gently taking his hand in yours. Your fingers interlocked perfectly, like puzzle pieces. “Jasper told me.”

Gally chuckled at that, eyes widening in slight surprise “You know his name?”

You shrugged “I pay attention.”

His grin widened, warmth filling his eyes as he gazed down at you, giving your hand a tight, grounding squeeze “You always have.”

Your heart raced faster as you raked your gaze over every feature of his face, each faint freckle on his cheeks, his plump lips, his vibrant eyes… You couldn’t help yourself as you threw your arms around him, Gally not wasting a second in wrapping you up in his strong embrace. He held you so fervently, so close to his body, you thought he was almost lifting you off the ground. So many emotions swirled between you two - the relief of both of you somehow having survived every hardship up until this point, the joy of having found your way back to one another, the desperate urge to never let go of each other again, the fear of somehow getting separated along the way of whatever came next. You felt a small shudder pass through your body as you clung to him for dear life, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you… Gally, I’ve missed you so much…!” You uttered on half a breath, succumbing to the compelling warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ve missed you, too, Y/N… More than anything.” He whispered so close to your ear, his arms around you tightening as he slowly rocked you from side to side, making sure you felt how much he meant it.

Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, in spite of your best attempts at keeping them at bay “I’d spent months thinking you were… Dead… I-I thought it was over, you were gone, I’d never see you again…!”

Gally released a fervid sigh, at last picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his midriff as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder “I know, baby, I know… But I’m okay, I’m right here. And you are, too…”

You stifled a sob, pressing your slightly trembling lips to his temple, basking in the feeling of his heated breath fanning your skin “I’m scared I’m gonna wake up any moment, and you won’t be there. It’s already happened too many times…”

“Won’t happen this time. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N…” He promised, lifting his head from your neck so that he could meet your glimmering eyes “I’m not gonna screw it up twice.”

You let out a quivering breath as you gazed into the eyes that reflected all the unyielding love you harbored. Every nerve in your body pulled you into Gally, every thump of your heart resonated within him as he held you in his arms. This was the feeling you thought had been lost forever to you. Something so powerful and burning that no other force could compare to it. He was the piece of your heart that had been ripped out all those months ago, the piece that was now being graciously returned to its rightful place.

With a tenderness no one else but you has ever shown him, you cupped his face in between your soft palms and leaned in, your lips pressing fully and ardently against his.

The long-overdue kiss instantly clouded Gally’s senses, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his lips reciprocated, moving against yours with enough passion and longing to make your head spin. Your legs tightened around his midsection as his left hand moved lower to grasp at your hip, endeavouring to bring you even closer, as if that was possible. Gally swallowed the soft whimper that escaped you as he kissed you deeper, all his conscious thought paralyzed by the enrapturing sensation of your lips on his. He didn’t believe anything in the world tasted sweeter. He had spent countless nights dreaming about the day he would get to do this again. And now that he had you back, just like this, so close, so yearning, so thoroughly his… he wished it would never end.

Your fingertips threaded through the short sandy strands of his hair, your body feeling weightless, almost floating. You bit back a mewl as Gally’s hand reached up to your face, his calloused fingers brushing your cheek and trailing down your neck in a feather-light caress. Every bit of your skin felt so sensitive to his touch. After a few more blissful seconds, you finally broke away from his lips, both of you panting heavily, catching your breath from the heavenly feeling of your kiss.

Gally rested his forehead against yours, his mouth still mere inches away from your own “I’m never losing you again… Never, you hear me?”

You nodded, frantically, holding onto his neck with both hands, his closeness filling you with a searing light. It exhilarated you, made you feel like you could do anything, overcome anything, as long as you two were together.

“Sounds good to me…”

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

#the maze runner #tmr gally #the death cure #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally tmr #gally x fem!reader #gally x you #gally x y/n #tmr gally imagine #gally fanfic #gally #will poulter #tmr imagine #gally the death cure