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omgeto · 8 months

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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.”

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day.

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass.

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg.

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you.

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy, “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt. “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.”

☆ TOJI

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further.

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you.

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy.

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching.

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it.

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?”

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?”

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto.

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear.

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun — down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace.

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy.

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever.

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him.

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it.

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader

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sweet-herbal-peach-tea · 1 month

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TKATB Theories

Evidently spoilers ahead for chapters 1 and 2!!

This is my analysis and theories based on 3 character's we got intense lore drops for including Sol, Crowe, and Hyugo.

CW: mentions of drugs, and implied abuse,

SPOILERS UTC!

Credit for header goes to the wonderful @arklayraven

HYUGO

So, the recent lore drop for Hyugo was crazyyyy. The whole thing about him and Geo being brothers was implied especially with Geo's introduction on Fantasia's twt where he talks about disliking Hyugo. There definitely has to be a reason beyond sibling bickering to why Geo dislikes Hyugo. Whether it's Hyugo's vigilante tendencies or his connection with a potential crime syndicate.

One of my theories is that possibility Geo and Hyugo's father are a part of the syndicate or some kind of organizer. The reason Geo possibly despises Hyugo so much could be due to the fact he believes Hyugo is so heavily intertwined in the world of crime? I guess we'll find out in the next few chapters??

SPEAKING OF HYUGO'S CONNECTIONS TO CRIME?? THE SECRET ENDING??

Okay so idk if Hyugo is skipping town in both endings but I think regardless of what choices we've made he'll be skipping town bc of the events that took place in the theatre. Whether we were present or not. What I think hints towards this is the particular ending we get when we go to the arcade and when Hyugo asks us to "take care of Sol". Then he smiles and leaves. It may not be as obvious at face value, but I do think we won’t see him for a good while.

ALSO, the deal he made with Sol??

I think it has to do something with definitely gathering information on us, or it could be as someone else said supplying Sol with sleeping pills. However, I think it's implied that Sol does unfortunately missuses them, but they are intended for Sol to be able to get sleep.

More than likely I think the simpler version of their deal would consist of Hyugo keeping quiet of Sol's list of many many crimes, and Sol doing the same for him.

CROWE

I think will generally be the shortest, however I think my theories for him are more based on context clues and reading between the lines rather than baseless conjecture.

As we know literature and double meanings play an extremely important role in this visual novel. We see this in reference to Anabel Lee and the constant references between our past and the poem and how each verse links each chapter.

Where getting to in this is during Crowe's route when he asks for the MC's opinion on Marie Antionette. In the answers we give he seems to take them to heart, and when a negative opinion of her is brought up he seems to take them strangely to heart.

It is clearly evident is some way shape or form Crowe is somehow connected to the man that took our farm away. I think it is most likely that he is Crowe's father. Crowe evidently feels guilty about the place he takes and the role that he is forced into in regard to our debt. He more than likely can’t say anything either out of guilt or second party purposes. Regardless he is obviously trying his best to support the MC from the sidelines in any way he can.

I love Crowe… :( My sweetybear snookums pie…

SOL

ughhhh this man.

I love him but he's clearly insane. Okay let's talk about him bc I have so much to say.

My first theory unfortunately is my least favorite, and it is that potentially MC is not Sol's first soulmate, and he is projecting an image of someone else long gone onto us as the MC.

My reasoning behind this theory is because of his views of rebirth, death, and life. Specifically on two occasions that really made me think of this.

During the conversation you have with him in the library after making the decision to sit on his lap you ask him about his interpretation of the poem Annabel Lee, which the game takes heavy inspiration from. During this conversation Sol speaks of "being separated by death" and it's followed by Sol's responds in a fast dialogue something along the lines of "I won’t. it won’t happen again." Which leads me to believe we may potentially remind him of someone in his life that has passed.

There's also a second dialogue during day 02 which sparked this idea, in which based on the player's pronoun options Hyugo says something along the lines of "you remind me of her/him/them." It's unknown if Hyugo and Sol are childhood friends, but if it is likely then it may confirm that we remind Hyugo and Sol of an entirely separate person.

The only thing that sways me away from this theory other than the fact I detest the idea of it is during Crowe's route on day 02 when Sol mentions something about how…

"It has always been you, Ichabod."

This line could imply a multitude of things really. This could also imply that he generally detests the family due to the fact that they play a role in the MC's suffering. However, for now, I'll diverge into a separate theory that definitely more likely being Sol somehow knows us from childhood.

I like the theory that a fanfiction author pointed out that our farm may have been near the sea, and the reason why Sol detests it so much is due to the fact we the MC were separated from him, and the sea may remind him of that.

There are also these implications of the flowers in his hair in Fantasia's braiding hair post with the "forget me nots" in his hair.

I also believe the key carries around him has something to do with our past as well. Given that in fantasia ask box when someone asked about how Sol and MC first met, he actively fiddles and plays with the key that he wears? Where does it unlock? Where does it go to?? Only the lord knows.

BUT ALSO?? SEPERATE NOTE?? FINAL THEORY AND IMPLICATION?? THE NSFW ENDING ON DAY 02??

Seeing Sol's back in the last CG absolutely broke my heart. It's clear that his back is riddled with bruises and burn scars clearly from recent abuse. (after my second check I also noticed his stomach with bruises??)

Obviously out of respect for fantasia's terms I will not link it nor post it, but it's there in game and I recommend other theorists checking it out.

The reason why I say recent is due to the fact that if they were just scars, we most likely would have seen the marks features in Day 01's NSFW art, seeing as it also has his stomach exposed.

Again, this all conjecture, and they could be in places we couldn’t have seen.

On the subject of scars, I think it's also evident that Sol is more than likely hiding a scar on his neck or some sort of burn scar behind it. He's extremely self-conscious about his looks, and Fantasia has stated that his choker will more than likely stay on at all times when he's with his soulmate.

The side however, and its coverage eludes me considering the only time we've seen Sol's neck is in art Fantasia has given us (but his neck is covered with a scarf or ribbon). The only time we see a little smidgen of his neck is in the Day 01 NSFW ending, but it's barely anything to form a for sure statement on!

I think here is where I'll wrap up my theories for now!! Thank for reading this extremely long yap fest! Fantasia if you are reading this I just wanted to say I love your game and I love Sol!! Hope he knows this very much! Thank you for your hard work and I hope your internship goes well!

Very excited for the future of this wonderful game! I will now go lock in for finals season! This is peach signing off!

#tkatb vn #katb vn #tkatb sol #solivan brugmansia #tkatb spoilers #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back sol

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prythianpages · 5 months

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Stuck on You | Part Two

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[part one] [part two] [part three] [edit/sneak peak] [part four] [final part] [solstice bonus]

A/N: you finally get to see the line above in this part! I also used writing prompts from @dumplingsjinson to help me with some of the dialogue. you can find the original post here.

Warnings: fluff, some angst, mentions of death

“Y/N?”

You spun around, eyes widening in surprise and recognition. “Cassian,” you whispered, your heart dancing erratically within your chest as you took in the sight of him.

“You remembered my name.” A warm grin spread across his face at the sound of his name coming from your pretty lips.

"How could I ever forget?" you remarked with a gleam in your eye and your words left him blushing, the memory of the night you two spent together surfacing vividly, even after all these years.

His presence was powerful and imposing, just as you remembered. Towering over you, his tall and muscular frame overwhelmed your senses, accompanied by the intoxicating scent of cedar and balsam that clung to him. His warm amber eyes lingered on you, a silent exploration that traced the contours of your figure as if he were undressing you with his eyes before lifting to meet your gaze once more.

You couldn’t shake the disbelief that gripped you. You thought you’d never see him again.

“Cassian?” A small voice interrupted, pulling your gazes away from each other and back to the young girl. “I’ve never met you before.”

Cassian studied her. She could only be a couple of years old, no older than a decade. A fact that set the gears in his mind into motion. Could she be–

“Cassian is–is an old friend of mine.” You swiftly explained to the young girl. “Cassian, this is Seraphine. My sister.”

The blood returned to Cassian’s face as a small wave of relief washed over him. Sister. This little girl was your sister, not his long-lost secret child. There was a glimmer of amusement in your eyes when you caught the look on his face.

“Can you be my friend too?” Seraphine pleaded with her eyes. Her tiny hands grasped onto Cassian’s larger hand and she urged him to take the seat next to her. He looked at you and you could only send him an apologetic look, gesturing with your hands to take a seat as well, mouthing at him that your little sister didn’t have many friends. He felt a tug in his heart at your revelation so with a kind smile, he took the seat next to Seraphine.

“Of course.” Cassian replied. “What is it that you were drawing earlier?”

Seraphine squealed in excitement as she pulled out her notebook, showing him the pegasus she had been drawing. Cassian bit back his laugh as he took in the drawing that had a delightful charm, one only kids can bring to their creations.

You heard your name being called out again and when you turned your head, you saw that one of your tables was in need of more ale. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as you contemplated. The tavern was small enough that even when your sister would sit alone, you could still keep a watchful eye on her. You knew your sister would be in safe company with Cassian, but you could sense that he wanted to talk. Over what you had no clue but you were itching to know too.

“Are you hungry?” You asked and before he could respond, you simply nodded your head as you decided for him. “Let me bring you something to eat as well. I’ll be right back.”

Cassian watched as you disappeared behind a worn counter. You returned to the table but only for a brief moment as you placed a plate of warm food in front of him and then you were running off to attend to other tables, pouring out drinks and smiles with ease.

A smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about you. He only knew you for one night but that had been enough to know the spark you carried. Yet, the spark that had drawn him in seemed dimmed now and you carried yourself as if burdened by a weight he couldn’t quite discern.

“You’re staring.”

Cassian startled. He had forgotten all about the young girl beside him. “Sorry.”

Seraphine giggled and she grinned as she looked up at her new friend. “You like my sister.”

His own lips curled up into a shameless grin. “Yes, I do.”

“Will you marry her?”

“Maybe,” Cassian replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

He did like you.

One of his biggest regrets was not asking you to stay with him. After your bodies were spent from the immense amount of pleasure you drew out from one another, he had cuddled you against him with the pretense of keeping you warm but in reality, he just wanted to hold you longer. You had laughed as you plucked a leaf from his hair. The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking and he had already planned to take you out for a nice breakfast in Velaris once the restaurants would open. However, at the break of dawn, you had insisted you had to leave and you were running off before he could ask where to find you again.

He did look for you, though. He begged Azriel to help him find you but he had only been able to track down the friend you had arrived at the bonfire with. She was the one who had given him the unfortunate news that you had left Windhaven with your mother, not knowing where you had gone to.

“Papa liked my mama so he married her.” Seraphine said, her voice growing quiet. He failed to notice the quiver of her lip. “He liked her a lot, said it’s why they had me…but mama got attacked and then he died…y/n won’t get hurt will she? You won’t die, will you?”

Seraphine’s eyes lined with silver and she began to cry.

Cassian frowned and turned to her, his hand wiping away at her tears with an ache in his chest at what her words insinuated. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt y/n, not under my watch. And don’t worry about me, munchkin. I plan to live for a long time.”

Your head whipped at the sound of your sister crying. In an instant, you were at the table, dropping to your knees as you brought Seraphine into your embrace. Her tears dampened your shirt but you did not care. Your hand ran through her hair while the other rubbed against her back in a soothing manner, your own eyes brimming with tears and realization dawned on Cassian as to why your spark had dimmed.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me.” Cassian repeated, following after you and helping you pick up the dirty plates scattered along the now empty tables as you prepared to close the tavern.

After Seraphine had settled with the help of some hot cocoa, Cassian had pulled you aside to talk, ignoring the wary look Azriel kept sending his way. They had stayed much longer than they had planned. Rhysand had already worriedly called into their minds, demanding to know why and for them to return. But Cassian refused to leave without knowing more about you and what had happened over the past seven years.

It was then when you explained everything, starting with the night you two spent together and why you had to leave so quickly after. You hadn’t planned to attend the bonfire celebration that night but it was your last night in Windhaven and you gave in to your friend’s request, deciding that you would finally let go and be free, have fun for once. No one would remember you, anyway, or so you had thought.

The very next morning you and your mother moved back to her home camp, Ironcrest, where she married an old friend of hers who promised to take care of not only her but you as well. Your mother had been treated poorly, shunned by Ironcrest, after falling victim to a high fae that had been visiting. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. It was already hard being a female in an Illyrian war camp and even more so being a single mother. The two of you moved from camp to camp, wherever your mother could find a job to sustain the both of you until you were old enough to help. You had only lived in Windhaven during the years of the war, which explained why Cassian had never seen you before the bonfire.

The man your mother had married was nice and kind, a stark contrast among the many Illyrian males at the camps. He was able to take care of her and you well with the help of his tavern and he was elated when he found out your mother was pregnant. He had hoped for a son, as most men do, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he finally got to meet sweet little Seraphine.

Your family had lived a quiet and peaceful life, doting over Seraphine who had brought you all such joy. That is, until, a drunken Illyrian male, who had remembered your mother from years before you were born, decided to attack her out of spite. Of course, your step-father had intervened. He had not been trained as a warrior like the drunk Illyrian male had but that didn’t deter him from fighting back until his very last breath.

You had been the one to find your murdered mother and step-father. You’d never forget the gruesome sight of their lifeless bodies or the immense anger that had cursed through your veins when the murderer was let go and freed, having convinced the council that he had acted upon honor. You were utterly and completely helpless as your mother’s body was not granted the same respected burial as your step father was.

It had been a couple of months since their deaths and in those months, you focused on taking care of Seraphine. You were grateful your step father had taken you under his wing and taught you about business here and there. It was what helped you run the tavern on your own. That and the false pretense that your step-father’s brother, the only living relative Seraphine had that neither of you have met, was overseeing the business.

You settled the last of the dirty dashes into the bin, deciding that you would take care of them the next morning. You leaned against the counter to face the persistent Illyrian male before you. He took this as his opportunity to approach you, bridging the distance between you.

“I can take care of you and Seraphine.” He was so close and when he leant down, your eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the warmth radiating from him, your body aching for more.

“Was I really that good? To have the Lord of Bloodshed remember me after all this time and offer to take care of me?”

There was humor in your tone and Cassian was smirking at you. So you had also done a little digging at him after your night with him. He caged you in with both his arms and wings. “I think about you and that pretty cunt of yours so often. Sometimes even when I’m with other females.”

“You do?” You breathed in pleasant surprise, you had only meant to tease him. His words went straight to your core and you wanted nothing more than to give in to him, to feel him all over you.

Cassian felt a familiar cool caress–one of Azriel’s shadows–at the back of his neck and then it was yanking on his hair in warning. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, catching the way you composed yourself. He would’ve loved to tease you about it and if he had time, he would’ve loved to show you the effect you had on him. Even after all these years.

“I’m being serious though. My offer is not driven by lust or any ulterior motive but as a friend.”

“Friend?”

“It’s what you called me earlier.” He replied, a note of gentle reproach in his tone. A wistful smile played on his lips. “And while I would like to be more than a friend, that sounds like a promising starting point.”

“I’m sorry, Cassian, but I don’t think I can.” You frowned, crossing your arms against your chest, as you fought the urge to say yes. “I just–I don’t know.”

While he promised to take care of your little sister too, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you could tell he meant well and his offer was genuine. Your reservation was heavily based on the variability of it all. This life, as miserable as it was, is all you knew and for the moment, it was keeping both you and your sister safe.

Seraphine squinted up at the towering Illyrian male, who you had left her with while you talked with Cassian. He claimed to be Cassian’s friend. “Azriel,” he had introduced himself and when her curious gaze followed his shadows, he added: “Shadowsinger.”

“You don’t look like a Shadowsinger.”

“I’m a special kind.” Azriel’s lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “What does a Shadowsinger look like to you?”

“I dunno know. A performer maybe?” Seraphine replied with a shrug of her shoulders, giggling when a shadow brushed across her shoulders in a playful manner. She then studied Azriel again, taking in the numerous weapons strapped to his body and the strength he carried.

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

The hint of the smile dropped from Azriel’s face and he cleared his throat. “We’re getting out of subject here.”

“Alright Sera,” you nervously chided as you reappeared, Cassian trailing behind you. You rested one hand on your little sister’s shoulder while the other brushed against her cheek in a soft warning. You had heard snippets from their conversation and you were worried your sister’s curiosity had offended the Shadowsinger. “That’s enough questions.”

“It’s alright.” Azriel said, politely brushing off your concern. He then turned to his friend. “But we do have to go.”

Seraphine followed Azriel’s gaze and her lips curved into a pout. Slipping from your grasp, she ran to Cassian, tapping his leg to capture his attention. Cassian’s attention drifted back to the young girl and he crouched to be eye level with her, a fond smile gracing his lips.

“You’ll come visit us again, right?” Seraphine asked and with a sudden seriousness, she added: “Friends visit friends often. It’s a rule.”

“Sera–” You started.

“Of course I will.”

Cassian’s gaze locked with yours as he rose to his feet. He gave Seraphine a light pat to her head that had her giggling and then he was standing in front of you. You raised your brows in surprise at him. You thought declining his offer would’ve put him off, so you were surprised he still wanted to see you.

His hand reached for yours and without breaking eye contact, he brought it up to his lips. A small gesture that sent warmth flooding through you--a promise that he would visit again.

“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.”

You were at a loss for words, your thoughts a tangled mess. A feeble nod was all you could manage before awkwardly clearing your throat, realizing the weight of what you had agreed to. Cassian must’ve sensed your inner turmoil because he was grinning down at you in response.

He would’ve stayed longer, lost in the moment, if it weren’t for Azriel. The Shadowsinger’s gaze bore into Cassian’s back, prompting him to hesitantly release your hand. He must’ve not been moving fast enough because Azriel was pulling him by the cuff of his leathers, sending a nod in farewell to you.

Even as Azriel guided Cassian out the door and you returned your attention to your little sister, Cassian’s gaze was stuck on you.

Cassian, true to his word, returned a couple of days later, bearing gifts. Flowers adorned with vibrant hues for you and a plush pegasus that resembled the strange but endearing drawing Seraphine had shown him the night they first met. Of course, your little sister was over the moon with him, beaming with delight as she ran around the tavern and clutched the pegasus to her chest.

He returned almost every other night, the two of you falling into a weekly routine with ease. There were times where his visits would be delayed but he always told you ahead of time.

On bustling evenings, he would keep Seraphine company at her table, often coloring and drawing with her. During the quieter tavern nights, the three of you would have dinner together. He would flirt with you shamelessly every time he could, keeping it age appropriate whenever Seraphine was within hearing range but on the moments he had you alone, the teasing words slipping from his lips were sinful. Flirting was new territory to him and he loved trying it with you, rejoicing in every reaction he drew from you.

As the nights would wind down and you closed up the tavern, he would walk the both of you home. If Seraphine was sleepy, Cassian would scoop her up in his arms with a gentleness that melted your heart. On more spirited nights, she would ride atop his shoulders, giggles echoing through the dimly lit streets as her tiny wings spread and she pretended she was flying. Always, his free hand sought yours, and sometimes, you would let him intertwine his fingers with yours.

He was patient with you and you knew that if you had told him to stop, he would. Yet, deep down, you found that you didn’t want him to. You found a quiet pleasure in his presence, a sentiment that bloomed into something more just as the flowers he gifted you did with each shared moment.

The tavern was alive with the lively hum of laughter and clinking glasses as Cassian entered. His eyes quickly sought you out. You moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, your stubborn demeanor evident in the way you navigated the bustling tavern. His fists clenched when one of the males got handsy with you, his hand trailing too low on your back as you tended to his table and he fought the urge to teach the male a lesson when he saw your reaction. But then you were forcing a small smile on your face that didn't reach your eyes and laughing at what the male said with such practiced ease, it tore at his heart a little.

Cassian turned his head, unable to bear the sight any longer. If he did, he worried he'd lead his simmering temper take over and disrupt the lively atmosphere of the tavern.

He spotted Seraphine at her usual table. She was too engrossed in coloring one of the drawings before her, her small tongue peeking out and eyebrows furrowed to notice Cassian. Her pegasus plush, which she had named Scrump, was resting beside her coloring book.

When Cassian spotted you behind the bar, he decided to finally approach you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he rested his elbows on the counter and leant in toward you.

“Hello, Sweetheart.”

Your hand trembled slightly, flustered by his presence as you poured him a drink and you were grateful that there was a physical barrier between the two of you. “Why is your face so close?”

Cassian didn’t miss a beat, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that had heat pooling in your stomach and heart fluttering. “Well, do you like it this close?”

When you didn’t respond, Cassian continued. “You know what I just realized?”

“What?” You asked, deciding to entertain him while you handed him his drink.

His fingers brushed against yours, lingering for longer than needed as he took the drink from you. “How utterly adorable it is when you get flustered.”

You shot him a skeptical glance. “You did not just realize it.”

“No,” he grinned, bringing his drink to his lips. “But I wanted an excuse to point it out.”

“Cas Cas!”

Cassian pulled away at the joyous shout of his name and he turned around just in time to catch a beaming Seraphine into his arms. He spun her around playfully, a chuckle escaping him, and your heart felt a twist. As endearing as the gesture was, there was a lingering ache within you. It struck you that your little sister was forming an attachment to the Illyrian male, much like you were, and the uncertainty of it all left you feeling a sense of fear and vulnerability. The two of you had already lost so much.

As the night unfolded, Cassian engaged you in lively banter, sharing stories that drew genuine laughter from you. He learned more about you. Your dreams, your favorite songs and the tales you held close to your heart. The stubborn walls you had built seemed to soften with every visit.

He walked you both home that night. Seraphine had chosen to skip ahead of you two, singing an Illyrian nursery rhyme but his hand like always, was wrapped around yours. When you had reached your doorstep, you unlocked the door for your sister, instructing her to prepare for bed and that you’d be there shortly.

The door was left slightly ajar, in case she needed you, as you leaned against the wooden wall beside it. You opened your mouth to bid Cassian farewell but found yourself at a loss for words as he leaned in. His hand released yours only to cage you into the wall behind you with hands splayed on either side of you. He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “You know, I’m starting to think, maybe, just maybe, you’re falling for me too.”

A blush tinted your cheeks and you met his gaze. Your playful scoff couldn’t mask the truth in your eyes. There was a softness there that hadn’t been there before. “Maybe you’re not as insufferable as I thought.”

Cassian grinned, the realization of progress sweetening the air. He leant down further, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickered to your lips and then back to your eyes. Your eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation but then the warmth grew farther and upon opening your eyes, you found him staring at you.

“What?”

“I just think it’s funny that even on your tiptoes, you still can’t reach me.”

You glared, not realizing that you had, in fact, been standing on your toes to reach his lips. In that charged moment, something sparked within you. Swiftly, you elbowed directly into his gut with ease and on instinct he leaned down with a groan, meeting your level once more. Seizing the opportunity, you captured his lips into a kiss and smiled when you felt him move his mouth against yours.

His tongue swept along your bottom lip and you pulled away, a smug look on your face. “Who’s laughing now?”

“Come here, you,” he said, his voice a breathless whisper as he leant down once more. With the help of his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you close, his lips pressing against yours. This time, when he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, you didn’t pull away, choosing to allow him in instead, tentatively opening your heart to the possibility of love.

Cassian didn’t visit the following day or the day after that. It had been two whole weeks since his last visit, the night you two kissed. You wondered if you had scared him away. Maybe, he realized he didn’t like you after all, reducing all you two shared to nothing but physical attraction.

These thoughts did nothing to soothe you and you couldn’t help it when the pain that had been lingering deep within your chest resurfaced as you noticed Seraphine’s head lift in anticipation every time the door to the tavern was opening only to be met with disappointment.

Finally, almost a whole month later, Cassian appeared. His cheeks were flushed from the cold winter air. Seraphine did a double take, her eyes widening in a mixture of joy and disbelief as she recognized her friend. She ran up to him, the question she had been asking you every night tumbling from her lips. “Cassian, where have you been? I missed you! Scrumps missed you too!”

“I’m sorry, little one.” Cassian frowned, patting the back of her hair as she clung onto his leg. “I missed you, too.”

You approached the two, arms folded across your chest. There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite discern–apprehension, perhaps– and it filled him with unease. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up, Sweetheart. Rhysand sent me on a mission and–”

“It’s okay. You don’t owe us an explanation,” you were interrupting, motioning for him to follow you to the table Seraphine sat at every night. Your voice was quiet, a low murmur, as your next words slipped out of your mouth. “You don’t owe us anything.”

But Cassian heard it–the weight in your words. That unspoken ache. The unease in his chest grew. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

The walls Cassian had once broken down were now back up and he hated the distance that had settled between you.

Since the tavern was quiet and idle, the three of you had dinner together and he dedicated it all to you and your sister, wanting to know what he had missed. He discovered that Seraphine had lost a tooth, chuckling when she eagerly showed him the gap where her front tooth once resided and the amusing whistling sound she could now produce. Relief washed over him when, finally, you smiled at him again over something he had said. It led you back to your usual banter, offering a fleeting but welcomed respite from the awkward tension that had momentarily taken hold.

You gradually allowed him back in, though this time, with a more guarded embrace.

“And what about you, my sweets?” Cassian’s attention was on you, wanting to know what you had been up to the past couple of weeks.

“It’s been quiet here without you.” You admitted, oblivious to the fact you hadn’t quite answered his question.

Cassian’s eyes brightened. “You missed me.”

You choked on your ale, bringing your hand to your chest. “I didn’t say that.”

Cassian turned to Seraphine with a grin. “She just said she missed me, right?”

“Definitely.” Seraphine replied almost instantly, mirroring the curve of his lips with a toothy grin of her own.

“Traitor,” you playfully accused your sister with a roll of your eyes. She stuck her tongue out at you and you chuckled. Not wanting to dwell on your small confession for too long, you shifted to rise from your seat, deciding now was the perfect time to return to your duties.

Cassian’s hand sought out yours, gently halting you. “Hey, since you missed me so much, why don’t you go out with–”

“Cassian, I told you. I can’t. I–” Your voice hushed, gaze flickering to your little sister, who finished her dinner. Grateful that she was engrossed in conversation with Scrumps, her pegasus plush, you added, "I have a lot to deal with right now."

Before you could say anything more, or he could respond, the call from one of your tables beckoned you away. An apology reflected in your eyes as you left, and Cassian watched with a hint of longing as you attended to your duties.

"Don't worry," Seraphine's voice drew his attention away. He turned to the young girl, who munched on her food with an air of amusement in her eyes. "She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read her diary."

“She thinks it's fancy?”

Cassian's hand instinctively reached up toward his hair, currently tied up in a loose bun. Her innocent words stirred a spark of hope within him. Although you were stubborn, he could sense that you wanted--you longed--for him too.

He would not give up on you, refusing to surrender the love that continued to bloom within his heart.

tag: @kemillyfreitas

a/n: i watched lilo & stitch while writing this part and Cobra bubbles lowkey gave me Azriel vibes so I couldn't help but incorporate that small scene of Lilo asking him if he ever killed anyone lol. the next part might be posted tomorrow, depending on how far I get along with my studies for the day. i plan to finish this series soon <3

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #cassian smut #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #cassian acotar imagine #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar smut #soy

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pinkerthings · 2 months

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the significance of mileven simply not understanding each other (pt 1):

(others have brought this up before but I think it’s a bit overlooked imo)

There are numerous times throughout Stranger Things where Mileven is shown to not be on the same wavelength, and the Duffers like to make it quite apparent to the general audience.

Starting with the obvious scenes:

“BLANK makes you crazy”

El is literally staring at Mike like she has NO idea what he’s trying to say.

Shes STILL confused even after he tells her it’s something old people tell each other:

Like girl…. i KNOW you were watching them soap operas and old timey romances during that year in Hopper’s cabin. You really expect us to believe you have no clue what he’s trying to say?

This scene was written like this on purpose for two reasons: comedic effect and diving deeper into mileven.

Back to not ever being on the same wavelength:

I talked in this post here about Mike being okay with El standing up to bullies in the past when it came to Mike or Will, but Mike suddenly not understanding when it comes down to El defending herself against Angela, showcasing the idea that they are definitely not in agreeance over what happened at Rink-O-Mania.

The Duffers like to purposefully write Mileven out of step with one another.

It seems as though every season has something negative in store for the couple, and not in a fun, slow-burn agonizing romance type of way, but in the frustrating “why can’t they just work it out” kind of way.

Season 1 obviously has El “dying” and leaving Mike for a year, but on a smaller note also has Mike trying to explain to her that if she moved into his house, Nancy would be like her sister, but he would not be like her brother. She does not understand this, and has her classic confused face on.

Season 2 has her being gone and coming back to see Mike with Max, and even though nothing happened between the two of them, El was still cold to Max when they first met, showing even if El is incapable of knowing what the word “love” is, she still somehow knows what jealousy is.

Season 2 also brings us an interesting scene with Erica and Lucas, where the dialogue just seems….really off and random.

Lucas catches Erica playing with his He-Man action figure and gets mad, taking it from her. To which she says, “Hey! They’re in love!”

Lucas responds with:

The scene is extremely random and the dialogue is just weird to me, the only explanation it being a metaphor for something in the show, and the only viable explanation is Mileven.

Season 3 has the entire “boyfriends lie” side plot, resulting in El dumping Mike for lying to him about his grandmother after Hopper’s talk with him. Their relationship the entirety of season 3 is the epitome of immature pettiness caused by jealous and hormonal teenagers who don’t understand what being in a real relationship entails--

We get El and Max spying on the boys:

Eleven is a mystery to Mike, he pretty much says it himself.

Their whole relationship is based on immaturity, and the audience knows that. The audience can see that the two of are clearly immature and don’t have what it takes to be in a real, committed relationship. That’s the point. Their relationship in season three is almost entirely to move the plot around in whatever way the Duffer’s want, and to showcase the idea that their relationship in screen is nearly always shown in either a comedic, pre-teen immature light, or a jealous, misunderstood, and petty light. There is almost no stable relationship between the two of them in season 3. It’s either too clingy or too toxic or full of lies or immature, blah blah blah. The only scenes of them either not making out or fighting is the last scene of them together right before the Byers move, and that’s a whole scene in itself to unpack!

Season 4 is where things get a little chaotic, as if things weren’t chaotic enough.

There are so many miscommunications and misunderstandings with Mileven this season, but the big ones include:

El feeling like Mike thinks of her as a monster-

and Mike looking at her like she just spoke badly about his favorite Star Wars movie-

Directly after that we have Mike saying El is being "ridiculous" because she's upset that he won't tell her he loves her, and him calling her a superhero, the complete opposite of what she wants to hear in that moment, but Mike doesn't understand that, because who wouldn't want to be called a superhero? (his way of thinking)

Later on we get Mike recounting this to Will, saying, "and if I would have said that thing..." etc.

Mike can't even say that he loves El to other people, and we're expected to believe it's still true?

We also get this:

another misunderstanding on Mileven's part. El thinks Mike doesn't love her (at this point, does he?) so she finishes her letter the same way he has: From, El.

Next we have Will and Mike's conversation on top of the car:

"I think it's just scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel, especially to people you care about the most, because...what if they don't like the truth?"

I've said it before and I'll say it again,

why would El NOT like the truth if the truth is that Mike loves her?

Mike nods at Will's words and looks away, seemingly lost in thought. Why would he agree with Will---that it's hard for him to open up to El because she might not like the truth---if the truth is exactly what she wants to hear?

It literally makes no sense.

We also get the Byler van scene, where Mike compares her to a superhero yet again, something she clearly does not like (I don't have a vid but here's the official script, where he says the same thing):

Also El being Superman and him being Lois Lane in the analogy....okay.

Next we have him calling her a superhero YET AGAIN ! during his monologue:

Like girl if I was El I would just give up at this point. This is the last thing she wants to hear. She doesn't want to be a superhero all the time, she just wants to be a person ! a girlfriend ! a friend ! a daughter ! yet Mike is making it seem like the main reason he loves her is because she's a superhero, which she hates.

And lastly we have:

"Did she...talk to you at all?"

"Not much, I mean...a little bit."

Let me get this straight......you finally confess your love to your longtime girlfriend in the midst of her fighting a literal monster & monster from her past while she is being strangled and held captive all while she's also trying to save her friend from death, and she doesn't say anything to you for TWO days after?

Ladies...the Mileven break up is writing itself, really.

And that is a thread on how the Duffers intentionally write Mileven to be on different wavelengths with each other every single season without fail to showcase how incompatible they really are.

They are setting this relationship up to where you want more for both parties; El deserves to be loved the way she wants to be loved, and Mike deserves to be loved the way he needs to be loved (if u know what i mean)

In part 2 I will discuss the importance of byler understanding each other, juxtaposed to mileven hehe bye !

part 2 analyzing Mike & Will here !

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #eleven #stranger things 5 #finn wolfhard #jane hopper #st5 #mike and will

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ozzgin · 4 months

Note

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

#yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #daitou

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evilbihan · 3 months

Text

A guide to writing Bi-Han

I've seen far too many fanfics/oneshots/headcanons and art pieces out there completely mischaraterizing Bi-Han to the point he becomes unrecognizable from who he is in canon. For fans who love Bi-Han as he is, it can be quite frustrating to see people misunderstand his character so much. This post is not meant to be criticism, but was rather made with the intention to sort out common misconceptions, educate and help creators of fanwork understand Bi-Han and his personality better.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS BROTHERS:

Bi-Han doesn't hate Tomáš. There's so much fanart out there depicting him as a bully or bad brother when that's as far from canon as it could be. You can read the in-depth analysis on their dynamic in the post I've linked, but to sum it up, Bi-Han had the option to pick any other Lin Kuei member to accompany him and Kuai Liang to the teahouse or the Ying fortress, but each time he picked Smoke. He could have chosen Sektor or Cyrax, both of which are more experienced and completely loyal to him, and yet he still chose Tomáš instead. He also appears worried when Smoke nearly dies after Nitara's attack. Yes, he snapped at Tomáš once, but siblings fight and say things to each other that are often uncalled for. The relationship between them cannot be meassured by one line that was said out of anger or the intro dialogues that are set after their falling out. According to Smoke himself, Bi-Han was always cold towards him, but that only suggests they were never close, not that there was ever any hostility between them or that Bi-Han was ever harsh/cruel towards him in the past. Tomáš also tries to reunite the brothers and doesn't want Bi-Han to be his enemy, even if he's disappointed in Bi-Han's actions. He even admits he used to look up to him. Some artworks, however, aim to make it look like Bi-Han is oh so mean to poor, sad Tomas, when that's a blatant mischaraterization of both of them, simultanously babying Tomas, a grown man, and demonizing Bi-Han, a tragic and traumatized character.

Kuai Liang and Bi-Han used to be close. Kuai Liang knew about Bi-Han's frustrations, Bi-Han knows all of Kuai Liang's weaknesses, they trust each other enough to rely on each other in combat and both feel equally betrayed by the other because of the close brotherly bond they once shared and because of the trust that existed between them. Kuai Liang was Bi-Han's second in command, Bi-Han respected him. He's never once seen belittling or insulting Kuai Liang, not even after they're no longer on good terms with each other. By the time the story of MK1 starts, Bi-Han has already reached the peak of his frustration, which explains why he snaps at his brothers so often, especially when their father is brought up, but at no time was Bi-Han ever abusive towards Kuai Liang or Tomas. He seems to have put a lot of trust in both his brothers and in return, they trusted him too. If Bi-Han had ever been a violent person with little love and care for his family, Kuai Liang and Tomas wouldn't have been so shocked at the revelation that he let their father die.

There was always a side of Bi-Han that cared about his brothers and his choices indicate that he still does. Apart from the most obvious evidence for this, the scene where he checks on both of them to make sure they're unharmed, there are also other subtle clues that he cares about Kuai Liang and Tomas. In his chapter, Bi-Han is the one who fights off all threats (Nitara, Ermac...) while also giving the easier and less dangerous task of staying outside to Smoke, the least experienced one of the brothers, as he goes to capture Quan Chi himself with the help of Kuai Liang. While he says he wants Kuai Liang dead in some intros, his actions contradict his words. He had the chance to kill Kuai Liang at the Ying Fortress, but chose to spare him. SPOILERS: The leaks for the dlc claim that Bi-Han will be trying to capture his brothers alive. He seems to have no interest in actually harming either of them, just in making sure they can't get in the way of his plans.

PERSONALITY:

Oftentimes, fanfics portray Bi-Han as this hot-headed guy with anger issues who is only capable of one emotion and it's rage. But Bi-Han's anger is not his most defining trait. There are so many more layers to his personality. Just because the story mode only showed us situations in which his anger is triggered doesn't mean that's all there is to him. He's not the kind of person to go around yelling at everyone he sees and getting angry out of nowhere. I also don't see Bi-Han cursing/cussing or insulting others. As grandmaster, Bi-Han represents the Lin Kuei and he's expected to act a certain way. @inflamedrosenkranz wrote a genius analysis on how out of character it would be for Bi-Han to curse and I strongly recommend reading it in addition to this post.

Bi-Han is not a mysogynist. This is something I see all too frequently in reader insert fanfics where Bi-Han is written as someone who doesn't take his s/o seriously or looks down at them because they're a woman. Meanwhile, Bi-Han shows nothing but respect and admiration for strong women. He seems to have looked up to his mother much more than to his father and just listen to his intros with Sindel or Kitana. He admires Sindel for her leadership and even encourages Kitana to take Outworld's throne. He also wouldn't have taken in Frost as his apprentice and wouldn't have allowed Cyrax into the Lin Kuei if he thought women weren't fit to be Lin Kuei warriors.

I know this will disappoint a lot of headcanon writers, but Bi-Han would never degrade/insult or otherwise humiliate his partner, be it through words or actions, especially not during intimate moments shared between them. His significant other directly represents him and his clan. He would not tolerate any sort of disrespect towards them, let alone disrespect them himself. If his partner were to ask him to degrade them, that would be an instant dealbreaker for Bi-Han. He would expect any potential partner to show the self-respect and dignity befitting of their role as the grandmaster's significant other.

I often see drunk!Bi-Han headcanons, but honestly, it would be out of character for Bi-Han to drink alcohol. First of all, he absolutely wouldn't be able to see the appeal of it and secondly, he would hate the way it makes him feel. I imagine he likes being in control of his own body, he likes knowing that he can rely on his reflexes should he need them and alcohol would practically render them useless. As grandmaster of his clan he needs to be an example for all the other Lin Kuei. He would also not want to take the risk of overinduldging and embarrassing himself in a drunken stupor.

People like to write Bi-Han as a grumpy and overly serious guy who can't crack a joke to save himself, but they forget he makes ice puns. Ice puns. Bi-Han definitely has a sense of humor. I just don't think he gets to show anyone that side of himself often.

Bi-Han is a lot smarter than people give him credit for. Yes, siding with Shang Tsung was a bad choice, but it was one he made out of dispair and his frustration played into it as well, clouding his judgement. The way Bi-Han tries to assess his opponents' weaknesses shows his strategic mind. He let himself be fooled once, but he's also young and still has a lot to learn as grandmaster. It's not a sign of him lacking intelligence, like some people claim.

GOALS:

While he's ambitious and wants to acquire power to some extent, Bi-Han is not the power-hungry and selfish character he's often wrongly depicted as. His intentions lie far beyond that and are much more noble. Bi-Han craves independence and freedom for the Lin Kuei. He wants his clan to get the respect and recognition they rightfully deserve after protecting Earthrealm for so many generations. He doesn't want to conquer all of Earthrealm and he has no interest in ruling other realms either. What he wants is a small portion of Earthrealm because he's convinced that the Lin Kuei deserve it. He wants a reward for all their years of loyalty and duty, not to become a tyrant.

To conclude this, I appreciate writers and artists who do their research before writing/drawing a character and I hope this analysis can be helpful to those unsure of how to correctly write Bi-Han.

If I can think of more examples to add to the list, I will make a part 2 of this post.

#bi han #bi-han #bi han sub zero #mk bi han #mk sub zero #kuai liang #mk scorpion #tomas vrbada #mk smoke #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023

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soaked4mk · 2 months

Text

(Mk1) Flirty Intro Dialogues (part 2)

-Suggestive Content-

Raiden,Mileena,Baraka,Kitana,Rain and Shang Tsung.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Raiden⚡️

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★Raiden: “I’m excited to battle with you, Y/N.

-Y/N: “How sweet…”

★Y/N: “I hope you’ve prepared for defeat, champion.”

-Raiden: “I’m always prepared for you, Y/N.

★Raiden: “Kung Lao has told me you’re a worthy opponent.”

-Y/N: “You two talk about me?”

-Raiden: *Clears throat* “I-uh…well…”

★Y/N: *Looking him up and down* “I love a hard working man.”

-Raiden: *Looks away while trying to regain his composure*

★ Raiden: “We could just call this training.”

-Y/N: *Smiling* “Oooh, a personal trainer? I like the sound of that.”

★ Raiden: “With all of the hardships you’ve been dealt with, you still stand strong. It’s admirable.”

-Y/N: “It’s been a blessing, being able to hold my strength.”

★ Y/N: *Raiden staring* “Raiden…is there something on my face…?”

-Raiden: *Clears throat* “Oh-uh…no, sorry.”

★Y/N: “Don’t go easy on me”

-Raiden: “Would you prefer if I was rough?”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Mileena⚔️

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★ Mileena: “I can’t wait to play with you~”

-Y/N: “That is one sexy threat…”

★Y/N: “Care to tango, Empress?”

Mileena: “We’ll do more than dance, darling.”

★Mileena: “How sweet, it will be…”

-Y/N: “My victory…?”

-Mileena: “Your blood.”

★ Y/N: “I must admit, I’m a bit nervous…”

-Mileena: “Afraid I’ll bite, dearie?”

★Mileena: “You look delicious.”

-Y/N: “Should I be concerned…or turned on?”

★Mileena: “I’m going to have so much fun with you~”

-Y/N: “You’re getting me excited, empress…”

★Mileena: “You will be on your knees for me, by the end of this fight.”

-Y/N: “You act like that’s not what I want”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Baraka👹

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★Baraka: “You are afraid of me…?”

-Y/N: “Afraid? no, no…you misheard. I’m attracted to you.”

★Baraka: “You have no clue with what you’re dealing with, Y/N.”

-Y/N: “Won’t hurt to find out, though.”

★Baraka: “You smell delectable”

-Y/N: “My perfume, or…?”

-Baraka: “Your flesh.”

★Y/N: “You’re quite handsome, Baraka.”

-Baraka: *Scoffs* “Flattery will get you nowhere Y/N.”

★Baraka: “I can smell your nervousness, Y/N”

-Y/N: “Then you can smell my attraction towards you, as well?”

★Y/N: “Tarkat has nothing on your resilience, Baraka.”

-Baraka: “I envy your optimism, Y/N.”

★Baraka: “I apologize if my appearance disturbs you…”

-Y/N: “Baraka, your appearance flusters me, not disturbs.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Kitana 🪭

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★Kitana: “Y/N…you do know my eyes are up here…”

-Y/N: “I-…sorry.” *😳*

★Y/N: “Princess, you always take my breath away”

-Kitana: “And I plan on doing the same thing, during battle, Y/N.”

★Y/N: “Your sparring skills are just as elegant as you are, princess.”

-Kitana: “You flatter me, Y/N.”

★Kitana: “I’ve heard many things about your combat skills, dear Y/N.”

-Y/N: “All good things…I hope?”

★Kitana: “I heard you were flirting with my sister…?”

-Y/N: “Jealous, princess?”

★Y/N: “You look lovely, Kitana.”

-Kitana: *chuckles* “Are all Earthreslmers as flirtatious as you?”

★Kitana: “I enjoy our sparring sessions, Y/N.”

-Y/N: “And here I thought I was the only one, princess”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Rain (Zeffeero)🌧️

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★Rain: “Y/N….”

-Y/N: “Zeffeero….”

★Y/N: “I admire your ambition, water mage.”

-Rain: “Your ambition is quite admirable within itself as well, Y/N…”

★Y/N: “I can respect a man who owns up to his flaws.”

-Rain: “I appreciate your notice of my efforts.”

★Y/N: “I wouldn’t mind getting wet, if it’s by you.”

-Rain: *rolls eyes, lightly chuckling*

★Y/N: “Is it true what you did to Seido’s capital…?”

-Rain: “Unfortunately…and I can never forgive myself.”

★Y/N: “I couldn’t imagine your regret…”

-Rain: “And I hope you never will, sweet Y/N.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Shang Tsung🧪

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

★Shang Tsung: “Imagine if you joined me. How powerful we could be…”

-Y/N: “I’d rather not…”

★Shang Tsung: “What I want isn’t your soul, Y/N…”

-Y/N: “Then what is it?”

-Shang Tsung: “Your heart…my love~”

★Shang Tsung: “I imagine your beauty never differs in previous timelines?”

-Y/N: “Wouldn’t you like to know, soul sucker.”

★Shang Tsung: “You’ll fall for me and everything I have to offer, sooner than later, sweet Y/N.”

-Y/N:*sneers* “I will never fall for you or your pathetic lies, Shang Tsung.”

★Shang Tsung: “Liu Kang misuses you —keeping you from your true destiny.”

-Y/N: “Lord Liu Kang, doesn’t use me, sorcerer.”

★Shang Tsung: “Trust me, you’d be better by my side.”

-Y/N: “How could I possibly trust you, when you can’t even trust yourself?”

★Shang Tsung: “I can show you true love, and make you a goddess (god/powerful being)”

-Y/N: *Laughs* “Love?, Do you mean collaring?”

-Shang Tsung: *smirks* “I take good care of my pets…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#raiden #mileena #Baraka #kitana #rain mk #zeffeero #shang tsung #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat fandom #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat #raiden mk1 #mileena mk1 #baraka mk #kitana mk1 #shang tsung mk1 #rainyworx

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alexissara · 9 months

Text

Recruiting Minthara Without Doing A War Crime - BG3

Opening Disclaimer: I do not know every variable, I am sharing what I did to recruit Minthara in BG3 since basically every guide in the internet is wrong and says you must do a war crime to recruit MInthara. You will lose out on the Minthara post battle sex scene and she remains mutually exclusive with Halsin you either have her or him but she can be obtained as a party member and even has exclusive voiced dialogue for Karlache and Wyll whom many say you are also locked out of to recruit her. Also this is totally intentional and accounted for but in my personal run I am getting some bugs, idk if it's an everyone issue or a me issue the game is still very new.

To Attack The Grove or to Kill Everyone In The Goblin Camp, that is the question, one that needs not an answer. You can do quests in both places, talk to Minthara, and more and still walk away from this fight.

All you need to do is simply progress the plot ignoring these two binary options. You'll need to ensure Minthara does not know the location of The Druid Grove so for me the way I did it was I rescued Sazza then killed her in the goblin camp before she could rat out the location and turn on me right before she would have walked me over to MInthara. It triggered a small fight but I destroyed the drums they played to trigger an alarm and have everyone fight me meaning I only had to kill four Goblins or so. I went to talk to Minthara and told her I had no clue where the druid grove or her item were but i'd totally look into it. I grabbed everything I wanted from the Goblin camp and before that did all of the Tiefling kid side quests except stealing the artifact in The Druid grove, upgraded Karlache's infernal engines, looked around everywhere I could. I did not at any point meet or talk to Halsin.

Then from there I simply went to the Underdark, you may be be able to take the Gith path instead, idk I didn't do it but I personally went to The Underdark by way of Feather Falling in the Phase Spider Monarch's layer down into it. From there I found some slavers, killed them and stole their boat. I sailed away to a forge where more slavers were living, I helped them save a true soul, helped the true soul kill them and then killed The True Soul. With that I was on my marry way and entered act 2. This I believe triggers time to have progressed in the game and everything will have gone into motion. I wanted to be sure though that I had done everything correctly so I headed to Moon Rise towers as fast as I can. I did some fights, got to the tower and found Minathara getting yelled at by her boss and thrown into a prison. In the prison two women are trying to wipe her mind. I killed all the guards before trying to help her out in the prisons area and freed some other prisoners. Stole a bunch of stuff then went to the girl herself. I then killed the people trying to brainwash her after talking to them for a little, walked out with Minthara, the guards at multiple times were like "why the fuck do you have Minthara" I smooth talk my way out of each situation, we leave moonrise and I tell her she can stay in our camp. From there she is a party member.

The game suggests you don't bring Minthara back into Moonrise Towers with you, I have got some light glitches on my own run when going to areas that are before you can normally recruit minthara and going to camp sometimes she spawns over at The Goblin camp where you first meet her. The Goblins seem to be basically fine so what happened with the tiefling and druids. Well the tieflings were forced to leave the druid grove but they were gonna do that anyway and the same quests are triggered as if you didn't do that as far as I undertand. I have met one of the tieflings already in act two and they were not mad at me for not helping the grove. The grove however did do the ritual and is no longer accessible. I will update this when I enter Baulder's Gate if I find out I like idk caused the death of a bunch of characters for not siding with either but I don't think I cased any deaths at all, I think I spared the most lives, the most peaceful bitch.

I want to end of the note that there is more to Minthara than Girlboss, Gaslight, Gatekeep. She for narrative reasons is a fun character to have. She is cold for sure but I think the game does a pretty good job justifying it and you can see right away glimmers of her warming up. In terms of a party member her kit is interesting, she starts with tadepoles already in her head so if you were totally avoiding them like me you'll be able to see a few of the powers in action given you have no option to remove them from her.

#BG3 #bg3 spoilers #baulders gate 3 #minthara #Minthara BG3 #Minthara

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bigdorks · 10 months

Text

closer | hobie brown

A/N: Idk what this is tbh. It's like a mix between a series of hcs and a lil bit of smut. There's like 3 lines of dialogue in the whole fic opps. Warning: smut towards the end so 18+, afab reader, this is kinda cheesy, pls read the tags for more info WC: 1k+

At first, you didn't know what to make of Hobie Brown. He was a tall, formidable presence, so steadfast in his beliefs in a way that wasn't really shared among many of his peers.

Cliche as it is, you'd never met anyone quite like him, despite the many variants of Spidermen that existed across the multiverse that you had come across.

Like the rest, he fought valiantly against the evil within his own Earth, battling fascists and collapsing oppressive corridors of power with his 'Spiderband.' But he did it in his own unique way, true to his punk lifestyle. You remember how hard you'd laughed when he told you about the time he had once rushed a stage at a fashion show in protest.

He never faltered in abiding by what he felt was right. You saw the way he supported those who desperately needed it, even when it diverged from the majority. That Hobie had stood by Miles even when the entire multiverse was against him.

And with that, you couldn't help but to admire Hobie, wanted to be more like him. Be a little more unapologetic and devoted in ways you had not learned of yet.

When Miles got his powers, you resigned yourself to a mere supportive role in the background. But you had always wanted to do so much more. To be more helpful than a quick phone call to the authorities as the computer nerd in the chair. A part of you wanted to prove to yourself that you didn't need superpowers to be a driving, albeit small, force of change. So, you set out to do just that.

Beyond supporting Miles's operations as Spiderman, you found grassroots organizations to involve yourself with. You volunteered at schools as a mentor, supported mutual aid funds in any way you could, and advocated against the local forces that threatened to destroy all of the progress Miles had made as Spiderman.

And maybe you inspired Hobie, too, in your own smaller efforts. Perhaps it was not as great or impactful as the collective heroic actions of the Spider-people, but it was enough to create a small ripple of change within your own community.

There was one time when Hobie had smiled, so proud and excited when you'd told him how you'd teamed up with Miles to raise enough funds to save the local struggling performing arts center.

You could still recall how giddy you felt when his arms pulled you to his chest and held you there, maybe for a beat too long, while his pierced mouth rained you in praise.

As you grew closer to him, talking to him about anything and everything became so easy. Relaxed banter flowed in your conversations with the complement of his dry humor to your sarcastic remarks. You'd become so consumed in each other during your talks that hours would pass by without notice.

Among the lingering touches and steady chatter, the frequent looks of longing that you and Hobie gave to each other were enough to clue the others in on the tangible tension between you. They were gleeful in their sly matchmaking attempts, especially Pavitr, who didn't even try to hide his play at Cupid.

Nonetheless, it wasn't long before you and Hobie fell into a relationship. A relationship that existed beyond labels and social titles. You both just went together. And it was as simple as that. As natural as breathing.

That is not to say it wasn't hard sometimes.

Problems arose from the cosmic distance between you two. Conflicts born out of Hobie's obligations as Spiderman and yours to Miles. And yet it wasn't anything you both couldn't work out. It took a lot of self-humbling and vulnerable communication you hadn't thought yourself capable of, but it was all worth it in the end.

So even though you and Hobie lived on two entirely different Earths, in different planes of reality, you still managed to find a way to be together.

You'd go to his universe and support him when he played packed shows in some underground pub, decked out in a patch-filled leather jacket and spikey accessories you had made with him. You’d drank with his mates and proudly screamed the lyrics of every song until your throat felt raw.

Some days, he'd stop by your apartment, and you'd introduce him to everything that had yet to be made in his own universe, particularly the music.

You watched as he combed through your vinyl collection and picked a new album to listen to, how his wicks moved around when he bobbed his head along to the melodic shouts of Mommy Long Legs, the versatile flows of Bad Brains or even the soothing tones of Sweetback.

And there were days like this when conversations lulled, and desire took over. Days when the history between the two of you felt as ancient as the cosmos, vast and full of eons of memory. Like you'd known Hobie longer than you really had. Every touch was well-practiced and well-placed, brewing ecstasy wherever they landed, as though you both had done this same dance a million times before.

Clothes litter the small space of your living room floor. He lays with you astride his hips and his back to the old cushions of your secondhand couch, which creaks noisily underneath your heavy movements. Kisses are stolen in between pants. Your breaths are shared in the small space that exists before your bodies.

Hobie's hands slide up and down the curves of your body, brushing your thin braids from your face, groping at your chest, guiding your hips to keep a steady pace with him. Your combined moans and the wet sounds from your repeated joining create a heady atmosphere that clouds the expanse of your mind.

You sit up and throw your head back when the pleasure becomes too much. Your braids follow the harsh motion like a whip, but you don't register any pain when they slap against your back, too focused on feeding your ravenous need for release.

Your hands press against his abdomen for leverage, your thighs aching when you bounce on him even faster. As his hard cock continues to bully your insides, your walls start to clench tighter around him, a sign that you're close to crossing the line that separates you from complete delirium.

"You feel so good." His voice strangled in his throat, his hips humping upwards toward yours. "Look at how well you're takin' all of me, love. You're soakin' it."

You look down to see the heat in his gaze as he watches the two of you join again and again. The sticky mess of your fluids wet his dick, spreading further and further across his lower half with each smack of your thighs. It makes you grind down harder, your blood pulse even faster, and your breathing grow heavier as your body reaches a plateau.

But what really pushes you over the edge is when his thumb finds your engorged clit, rubbing a series of smooth circles against the tacky skin. It's exactly enough stimulation to help you fall right into the throes of euphoria.

"S-shit, Hobie!"

Your limbs tense and shake as you groan, a mixture of his name and incoherent praises and begs falling from tender lips. You barely notice Hobie finding his release beneath you, his grunts joining your symphony of noises as his hips stutter to a stop, a warmth blossoming from where he's hilted inside of you.

You take a moment to catch your breath and steady the harsh palpitations of your heart. When Hobie gently pulls out of you, you can feel the slow drip of his cum further wet the damp skin of your thighs and his pelvis.

Like always, he's a master of aftercare, cleaning you both up and then helping you dress in fresh clothes. He carries you to your bed despite you insisting you can walk.

And when he lies down beside you and pulls you to lay on his bare chest, you're content as you think of how deeply he's become a part of your life, a part of you.

"I really love you, y'know." You whisper to him, slowly drifting off to sleep.

He presses smiling lips to your forehead in a kiss and somehow pulls you even closer. "I really love you, too."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #reader is slightly black coded so #hobie brown x black!reader #& theyre Miles's pal in the chair #kinda irrelavant but listened to corinne bailey rae while writing this hence the title #and hobie would def love her too idc idc idc #emlikes2write

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loupy-mongoose · 6 months

Text

*Ahem*

Happy Halloween!! ^w^

Bug Fables.

It's my current favorite video game, and actually, you can thank it for Linden Roots existing~

I'll explain, but in order to do so I have to dive into spoilers for one of my absolute favorite plots for one of my absolute favorite characters, so I need to slap on a;

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

In my opinion, this game is best experienced SPOILER FREE, so if you haven't played it and want to some day, I recommend skipping my info dump below. (This info can be acquired before beating the main game though. :>)

You're okay with spoilers? Yes? Okay, carry on.

So.

Those who are familiar with Leif's story will probably see how Bug Fables influenced the creation of Linden Roots.

A long while ago, I mentioned Randy being inspired by my favorite fictional character.

That's Leif.

Leif is a moth who is ancient.

And dead.

Loooooong before the game takes place (I can't find an exact timeframe; it's like a generation or two), Leif went with a team of bugs to explore a cave, but ended up dying in there. In that same cave, a group of scientists later experimented on cordyceps. Now, as soon as they became relevant to the story I was HOOKED.

I learned about cordyceps as a kid, and they scared the crap out of me. But it also was one of those morbidly fascinating things I'd look into once in a while. (Before anyone tells me, yes, I know that's what's in The Last of Us.)

If you don't know, IRL cordyceps basically turn bugs into zombies.

Anyway, the scientists were trying to find a way to create eternal life (what else is new lol), and did this through cordyceps. Which, as one could guess when dealing with zombie fungus, ended up going badly for the scientists.

One of the "failed" experimental fungi was thrown out, and found its way to the deceased Leif, and brought him back to life. It took on his memories, and Leif woke up without knowing what happened, until you dig into his story during the game. So the "Leif" we know in the game isn't truly Leif, but is the fungus living as him.

Now... I'm sure that sounds a bit familiar...

This idea of a character being dead-but-not struck a chord with me. It fascinated me to no end.

But there's more to it.

As one might expect, Leif has some tragedy surrounding him.

While playing the game, you can stumble upon his decedents.

This here is Muze. With a 'z'

This is Leif's great great however-many-greats grand-daughter, who you meet in the game's present day.

When he was alive, he had a wife.

His wife was Muse. With an 's'.

We never get to see what Muse looked like, but he says in-game that Muze is a spitting image of her. Hence why Akoya is dressed as she is in my pic. She's dressed as Muse.

Now, according to the developers, Muse was pregnant when Leif went into the cave where he died.

And he didn't know.

There are several moments in the game that show Leif's potential as a father, but one in particular stood out to me.

(Note for the images; Leif refers to himself as "We/Us".)

Oops, I forgot one. Vi finishes by shouting "I said it's not happening!"

The text in the last shot bounces/wiggles in-game, indicating playfulness or joking.

If you're familiar with Goombario and Goombella in the Paper Mario games, this dialogue is this game's version of that. You can have the main characters give flavor text on any area and most characters in the game. (And I recommend doing it often, as it adds SOOO much to the game! ^v^)

This bit takes place in the first room after Kabbu and Vi meet Leif. And at the end of the room, an event happens to change what's said for the rest of the game. Meaning, the only time you see it is RIGHT after they meet; He was getting playful with these two bugs he'd met only moments ago.

I'm sure it can just be seen as sarcasm, but having found this dialogue after learning about Leif missing out on raising a child, I saw it as a clue that he would've been a great dad. And it shattered me. ;w;

Randy and Akoya are wish-fulfillment. They're my version of Leif and Muse. They're my way of giving Leif and Muse what I'm sad they missed out on, while also keeping some of the angst, lol. Thankfully, they've evolved into their own separate characters that I feel I can be proud of, but Leif's story and tragedy still has a deep, well-protected place in my heart.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my ramble. I accept no blame for any potential spoiler you might've seen against your will. XD

#Pokemon #Linden Roots #Art #Bug Fables #<3

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slothgiirl · 2 years

Text

an understanding

morpheus x reader. 5k. no use of y/n. yearning. the only thing i know about video game development comes from mythic quest. dont feed ducks bread (its bad for them) morpheus.

“You know feeding ducks bread is bad for them right,” you pointedly tell the stranger in black. The man was wearing 30 layers of black under the midday sun. You had no clue how he could bear wearing a wool coat in this heat. Sweat was already gathering around your forehead and you were in a gauzy shirt.

“Oh.” His voice was deep, an alluring quality that would’ve made him a perfect audiobook narrator. He doesn’t look up, still hunched over his loaf of french bread: the good kind that was made fresh in store at some local bakery.

“Mind if I sit here?” You didn’t want to sit on the grass. Lugging a towel on top of your laptop and bag was bad enough so you were really hoping for a bench, even one with no shade. It was just too nice of a day to spend working indoors.

He doesn’t respond. Tearing another piece of bread, he pops it into his mouth, finally looking up, looking out at the park contemplatively.

You decide that it’s okay. He didn’t say no.

He was obviously incredibly awkward or maybe didn’t get out much judging by his pasty skin. It was rather unfortunate too. Now that you’d gotten a good look at him he was cute in a way that would’ve thrilled you at twelve when you were wearing studded belts and obsessed with Mary Shelley and Trent Reznor. His hair was a hopeless mess: it’s color so black it seemed to destroy any sunlight that shone on him.

Too bad he was about as interesting as a pet rock.

Even the beta testers who were chronically online, still figuring out women at the ripe old age of twenty six (which you understood as your dating life was no better and all your hopes rested on Hinge) were livelier to talk to.

You were probably being too hard on him, you thought as you opened up the company issue computer. It was the fancy type that bent completely backwards. There were so many dialogue trees to work through. So many paths.

Sitting cross legged on the bench, you get back to work and try not to think about the man on the other end of the bench.

He managed to make eating bread an incredibly depressing act; gaunt as he was, with a forlorn expression in his clear blue eyes.

Clearly the guy was going through something.

Refocusing on your work, you turn up the screen brightness and pull up your saved files for Project: Dracul City.

There were notes.

Bottle: get sent to old lady Constancia and gain +1 luck token

Newspaper: uncover school turned shelter LORE

Right.

“Thirsty now, are we dearie,” you utter under your breath. You worked best like this, saying the lines out loud. At the office, no one batted an eye, but you’d gotten plenty of looks at cafes.

No. That was too fairytale-esque. This was more survival horror. The words rich and velvet were also on the moodboard.

“A bottle of wine to soften the blow eh?” You frowned. It sounded too young, too flirty. Old Lady Constancia ran a black market shop in the game.

“Well then, a bit of liquor for the road? Better than anything in the tavern.”

Again, it was wrong. The wrong feel for the setting.

“No need to ask how your night is going then.” There. You grin a little, reading over the dialogue tree that led here, skimming over Lady Constancia’s lines. There’d be no voice actors for this so the diction would have a lot to convey.

“What.”

“Huh,” you look up from your screen. You’d completely forgotten you were sharing the bench, speaking too loudly.

“You were saying.” The man looks over at you for the first time. His gaze is no longer distant as he studies you. It was obvious you held his full attention in spite of how cold his demeanor was.

“Nothing,” you laugh nervously, “I just-it’s something I do while working. Say what I’m writing to see if it makes sense. It’s a really good trick for dialogue. Sometimes what sounds good in my head sounds really awful to my ears. It was advice I got years ago in school. Really fucking helpful though.”

“You are a writer?”

“Ha, I wish,” you scrunch your nose feeling yourself blush. “Well, sometimes. I don’t know. I always wanted to work in video games and thought writing for them would be cool. And yeah, every now and then I think I’ve got a novel in me but I like my job. Sure-I’m not lead in anything yet but it’s fun to flesh out these characters and help build a world where people can escape into. Just look at early fallout, Kentucky Route Zero’s a really good one. . .” Your own sincerity embarrassed you. “I know,” you look down at your screen, the blinking | waiting for your next words, “most people play to blow things up and kill lines of code but, I really do think it means something to people. Give them a world to play in, create, dream. . .yeah.” God you rambling so bad. “I can stop if it bothers you?”

There’s the slightest hint of interest in the subtle relaxation of his expression, “Not at all,” he replies, putting aside the bread he had left, “There is nothing frivolous in striving to inspire people.”

His words catch you off guard. He’d been so distant before, you were expecting a brush off. “Well maybe this line won’t impact someone but you never know what characters players latch onto.” Mariska Lutz’s tapes haunted you for months after playing Bioshock for the first time.

The man does not reply again, watching the ducks hop into the murky water.

You return to your work, making an effort to keep your mumblings quiet.

It’s not until the battery low notification pops up on your screen that you look up again, shutting your laptop and stretching your legs out. Your left foot tingles hellishly, having fallen asleep.

You look over, only to find that the man had left without a word, without making a sound. It was unsurprising. When you worked you got tunnel vision. That was the reason your pot of pinto beans had burned before. No enfrijoladas for you that day.

Well, he had certainly been a character.

*****

You escape a hectic office where you’d spent the past week during crunch time as the demo went live, a short teaser of the gameplay for corporate who would never even play the game but wanted to see evidence that money would be made when the game released in time for October aka when everyone would be over school and the spooky month would fit the game’s design. You’d brought a tote bag with your lunch and snacks from the office. Nothing hit the same as lays with salsa valentina though you would like to know who kept using your bottle. You’d labelled it. As a last resort you’d taken to stashing it in your desk when you knew you’d be working from home.

July.

Kids were chasing the poor ducks back into the pond. A woman in leopard print roller skates took on hills like a pro.

You liked the warmth of sunlight on your skin.

You still wore sunscreen though.

It’s Thursday but the park is packed. You try to look for any spot that has some shade, an open seat so you can enjoy a hard earned lunch. Your fingers have cramped from all the typing you’ve done in the last few days. You haven’t checked in the mirror but you feel like roadkill.

It was about three in the morning when you’d started using eye drops to keep going, but the meeting was happening. You’d done everything you could for your team.

No luck.

The moms were out in full force today, phone in hand as their kids ran wild.

Then-

You spot the same man from your last visit to this particular park. He looks the same, only his coat is longer. It was like he was trying to get heat stroke.

Well, the trick to adulthood was just going for it. Sharing a bench wasn’t the end of the world.

You walk over.

“Hello again,” you wave, “mind if I sit here?” You could always keep looking. There was plenty of time before you had to rush back to work.

“No.”

You plop down, leaving space for not only Jesus but all his homeboys too. “Thanks. I feel like everyone keeps having the same idea as me, but I guess it’s summer and unless you take the ferry west we don’t have the best beaches.” You open the bag of chips and liberally pour salsa on them, “want one?”

You hold out the bag, offering up your snacks to the man. He seemed less morose than last time, but was for sure managing to sulk under clear skies.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead he reaches into a white paper bag and slowly grabs a pinchful of birdseed to toss over to the ducks.

You’re left holding the bag of chips long enough for it to be awkward before you shrug and dig in, sucking the salt and salsa from your fingertips.

This is why you’ll never have a flat stomach. Five minute abs workouts from tiktok were not enough and you sure as hell were not giving up gansitos. There were some in your freezer waiting alongside a pint of ben and jerry’s.

“You got birdseed,” you note, amused. He had been listening to you. A thrill of excitement bubbles up in your chest.

He nods, the motion small.

Your companion was not an expressive man.

“No fat pigeons,” he states neutrally.

You’re puzzled but shrug it off. “I’ve heard you can feed them oatmeal. But I’d probably double check that.”

Finishing your tiny chip back, you fold it up neatly into a square and pop it back into your tote bag until you can toss it into the trash. Your actual lunch was a cold tomato and fresh mozzarella pasta.

Nothing exciting.

You’d been at the office for practically a week, only going home to have a quick shower and pick up food. You were overtired. Food was fuel. You’d treat yourself tomorrow to breakfast at your favorite cafe.

You idly eat as people bike by.

It could use some more sauce.

Your melancolic acquaintance continues to feed the ducks, lost in his own thoughts.

You stab a grape tomato, deciding to make conversation because what was there to lose. “I didn’t catch your name last time.” Last time, ha. You were really going on like there would be a next time. What was the chance you’d see him again? There’d been students in your same major you’d never shared a class with.

The question hangs in the air.

You chew the tomato, the juice spilling out into your mouth. It was tart.

You didn’t think he’d reply and were already considering fleeing. You could finish eating at your desk.

“Morpheus.”

“Morpheus,” you repeat so you don’t forget, “like the Greek god of sleep?” At least, you think he was the Greek god of sleep. It had been a while, he might have been a mythic hero.

“Of dreams,” he pauses, turning to you, his clear eyes peering into yours intensely, “and sleep. Yes.”

It’s only polite to introduce yourself properly now. You wipe the corners of your mouth clean and reply, “Nice to meet you Morpheus,” feeling silly and giddy (flip flopping between the two similar states) as you give him your name.

Blandly he states, “We have met before.” But with his attention on you, you catch the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The corners of his small mouth twitch in the ghost of a smile.

“All the same,” you beam at Morpheus, and finish your long lunch in quiet companionship.

*****

When you’re exhausted, you don’t even dream. Depending on whatever game you are working on, there’s weeks when you’re so mentally drained that you don’t even get under the covers before you’re out like a light.

You’re pretty sure this is a dream. Your mind rested enough to dream.

It’s usually in the middle of the dream, in the middle of the scenery changing from a party in your grandmother’s house where a bird offers you a peach to you sitting on a trampoline that you remember from summer days at your childhood friend’s house before the trampoline broke and sent you both to the ER where you only had scratches only your friend isn’t there but a programer from your internship and hey maybe this was sign from your subconsciousness that you should text her-

You let out a breath.

The sky turns pink.

Yup, this was a dream.

You lean into it, letting it happen around you, letting your mind wander as the trampoline bounces lightly with Nina’s movements. It jolts your body, your brain swings around in your skull pleasantly like being in those massage chairs.

A breeze runs over your cheeks.

You look at the blue of the trampoline border. Blue like the waters in instagram pictures. Blue-

The black trampoline washes away into dark waves and your favorite aunt lays in an innertube sipping on a cocktail, “I’m really glad we came to Hawai’i.”

“Me too. Though I’m still waiting to see a mermaid.”

“It’s great. I’m glad Lady Gaga approved the highway from San Diego to Hawai’i.”

“And we got to see those sea dragons!”

“Exactly!”

You feel something by your leg and stick your head underwater. The water is so clear, you can see everything around you, including the dolphins swimming around you, leading you somewhere. Minecraft dolphins. You grab onto it’s fin, wondering where they want to lead you. Atlantis? Too see a mermaid.

From under the water you tell your aunt, “I’ll be right back!”

“Yeah-”

And your alarm goes off. Your dream rapidly fades as you wipe the sleep from your eyes and blindly grasp around your nightstand for your phone. “Shut up!” The alarm was so annoying. Shrill ringing in your ears when all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

You send Nina a heart emoji on discord, followed by let’s grab some shaved ice.

Then, you flop back on your bed and doom scroll for a few minutes before you have to sign in on Slack.

*****

It becomes a habit.

Even as the weather takes a turn as fall sets in, you try and make it out to the park once a week, and without fail Morpheus is there. He’s not always feeding the ducks. But he’s always there and always leaves without saying a word.

You’re not offended when he barely acknowledges your wave as you sit down next to him. That was just what he was like. Morpheus suffered from perpetual resting bitch face because of his pouty mouth. You’d yet to see him smile.

It didn’t matter. You liked his presence. You enjoyed having company as you got fresh air.

He listened but rarely had much of a reply.

“It’s nice to go into the office and touch base with the other writers,” you muse, sipping at your drink, “make sure everything is coherent and I guess it helps to talk to people who are also living with this whole world in their head. It helps. The entire story’s been fleshed out by James, our lead.” You let the words hang in the air. Working from home was nice too. It lets you wake up at noon and crawl down the rabbit hole of your own imagination until three in the morning.

Morpheus’ tilts towards you as he continues to watch the wind sweep through the trees. A trio of teenage girls had brought an entire charcuterie board and flowers for their park day.

“Not to mention James does have to sign off on my work. I’m still pretty low on the totem pole.” This was your first full time gig out of school. Not an internship with terrible pay and long hours or freelance, but an honest to god full time job with benefits and pay that meant you could finally rent your own studio apartment. “Do you game?”

“No.”

You glance at him in profile. He remained as pale as the first time you’d seen him, but the gauntness in his cheeks had receded. There’s lines under his eyes that led you to believe he was closer to forty than your late twenties, closing in on the big 30. The Cut loved to post how everything changed at thirty.

“It’s fun. I didn’t really get into them until high school but that was only because my parents bought into the whole video games cause violence schtick but like, I wanted to play pokemon not Call of Duty, at least when I was nine.” You smile, thinking back on fond memories, “then I started going over to Michael’s house after school and we’d play Zelda and Fallout. His parents were complete nerds who knew Klingon so they were cool about us playing whatever they were also playing.” Your parents would not have approved of Left 4 Dead.

“I will take your word for it,” Morpheus tells you, sitting back against the bench.

You sip your tea. It’s still warm enough that the ice is melting away, watering down the taro flavor. “Or you could come over sometime and play Stardew Valley?” You pick a tree and stare at it. You were nervous about his reaction. But it had been weeks. At some point you had to make plans and grab a burger or a drink. That’s just what friends did and if you left it up to Morpheus it would probably take a year. That’s all. It had nothing to do with how your heart sped up the moment you spotted his familiar head of hair in the park. It had nothing to do with the anticipation that had you smiling like a fool on Wednesdays when you routinely went to the park.

He doesn’t respond, his expression dour.

After a beat of silence, you find it within yourself to look at him.

Morpheus meets your searching gaze with his own. You could see the emotions playing out in his blue eyes, but you could not read them. Like the eyes of a bird of prey, you could see the intelligence, the life and consciousness within, but lacked the ability to understand them the way you could read other people.

The corners of his mouth lift, his smile a precious thing you couldn’t turn away if you wanted to. “Perhaps,” he allows. “Once the image of an avenging Mina Harker fills the minds of dreamers around the world.”

Smiling softly you reply, “Only if it’s successful.” You could never be sure with indie games.

“It will be,” Morpheus states.

“I try not to focus too hard on what happens after it’s released and out of my hands. What will be will be.”

He nods.

You finish your tea.

It was a lovely day. The August sun was not so harsh after four. There were less people as families planned for a return to school. The tourists stopped visiting the Northwest in droves.

And maybe Morpheus would come over.

That was more than you’d had yesterday.

You could even show him the demo of-

You bite your lip, trying to think if you had let anything slip about Project: Dracul City. Developing games came with a strict gag order. Nothing could leak before it’s time, not the gameplay or plot or any of the concept art. Usually, you were pretty good about keeping quiet.

Surely you hadn’t told him.

And yet he’d known.

You frown.

“Do you wish to feed the ducks as well?”

His words break your line of thought. You hadn’t even noticed the crinkling sound of the paper bag as he opened the birdseed up.

“These ducks must be the most spoiled in all the public parks,” you muse, smiling at Morpheus before grabbing a handful of feed and tossing it lightly into the grass.

It was exciting to see the ducks and birds come over. The shyer animals waited to see if it was safe. They all had their own personalities.

You’re not bothered by his lack of response, the conversation stilling. You’d grown to like his taciturn ways. It gave what he did say more weight. He wore black like a uniform and over the course of the weeks in which you had been meeting up with him (undiscussed by either of you) he had become beautiful in your eyes. You wanted to run your fingers through his unkempt hair. You wanted to steal away his smiles for yourself: to know you could make such a dour man smile because he couldn’t help himself around you.

You reach for more birdseed only to find that Morpheus had left.

Figures.

*****

Unsuccessfully, you try to wipe away the number written on the cup of hot apple cider, otherwise known as the perfect fall drink as the leaves grew into vibrant array of reds and oranges with the change in seasons as the days grew cold.

The cashier had been nice, but you were only interested in one man.

The sharpie doesn’t budge at all.

You give up trying to get the sharpie off when you spot Morpheus. “Hey I got you a drink since it’s starting to get cold out.” It wasn’t coat season for you yet, but you’d started wearing a sweater while running all over town.

You hold out one of the cups, the one without the number scribbled on it.

His eyes widen, pink lips parting in surprise. But he makes no move to reach for the cup you’re offering.

“It’s apple cider,” you tack on, “warm you right up.”

He blinks.

You roll your eyes, “just take it and say thank you.”

It works. Morpheus nods, taking the cup from you, his fingers cool when they brush against your skin. “This was not necessary.”

“I know,” you say, plopping down next to him. “But I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” he inclines his head toward you. The sincerity in his voice is clear as a bell.

Heat blooms on your cheeks. “You're welcome.” Again, you smile at him as you take a sip of your cup, “I can’t wait until the street vendors start having roasted chestnuts.”

“You enjoy winter.”

“Yeah. Some of it,” you laugh, “The snow can get annoying at times but more and more I find myself taking the time to enjoy the little things. It’s not like I’m working towards getting into college, getting a degree or anything anymore. I’m just enjoying life, yeah?” You flush. In your head it sounded wise, but out loud you just sounded naive.

“My sister shares your thoughts.”

You arch a brow, “you have a sister! Older or younger?”

With a slight smile, Morpheus answers, “older.” He must be fond of her.

“Well she’s right. It’s hard at first. I’d pick up flowers for myself and then think about what a waste of money they were but why not. I like having flowers. Or I’d make up excuses not to go out with my coworkers to stay in but if you do that enough times they’ll stop inviting you and you fall into a rut and that’s no way to live. And some people are so different outside of work.” The older you get, the easier being content becomes.

Stop and smell the roses indeed.

Then you ask him, deviating from your unspoken plans, “do you want to walk around?”

“If you wish to.”

“I do, but we don’t have to.”

Morpheus stands, and you take that for the answer that it is.

******

The grass tickles your calves as you wander through the meadow. The sun paints the sky in hues of orange as it sinks below the treeline.

It’s lucky it’s not raining.

On your first trip to this national park, it had rained the entire time. Not surprising. Rain was a constant companion in this city, but it was more than worth it when you got this lovely meadow all to yourself. Wildflowers were sprinkled throughout the grass.

You’d always wanted to come back, splurge on the fancy lodge instead of being in a tent and hoping the rain wouldn’t get through the plastic. Plans to come-

You blink, looking around slowly.

Was this a dream?

You try to string your thoughts together: trying to remember how you got here. It was fall. Not spring. It’s hard, your brain feels like it's sinking into a thick comforter, the way it always feels when you’re on the border of deep sleep.

Taking in the scenery, the solace, you let your train of thought dissolve and you give into the nonsensical logic of dreams, letting yourself fall back into deep sleep.

It’s lovely.

You sit down in the grass as the leaves take flight, butterflies in the air twirling in constellations before settling back down in the branches. These trees were unmatched by anything you’d seen before. It only made you wish to see more, go to more places.

“You are fond of the natural world.”

Turning, you find Morpheus sitting next to you. His long coat is no longer black but a starry night. Stars twinkle in the depth of the fabric as you take him in with wide eyes.

“Morpheus,” you’re delighted to see him.

And because this is a dream, you don’t hesitate to reach out, crossing boundaries without a thought, you brush your fingers over his shoulder, half expecting your hand to go right through and slide into an abyss of night. That doesn’t happen.

Sheepishly, you meet his gaze.

His eyes are black unfathomless pits with a sole pinprick of light for a pupil. At this, you draw back.

Morpheus says nothing, regarding you carefully.

You blink.

And when you can bear to meet his waiting gaze again, his eyes are clear as ever. It must have been a trick of the light.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you note lamely. The national park wasn’t exactly close.

“I have business to contend with,” Morpheus replies, which leaves you with more questions than answers. You didn’t even know what he did for work. “We will not be able to meet in the Waking world for some time.”

“Oh,” you answer, crushed. It was ridiculous to feel so intensely about someone who was the equivalent of a classroom friend. You didn’t even have his number. Lin, your coworker, would call that a red flag.

His words sink in and, “the waking world?” Now you’re just confused.

His brow furrows with concern. “We are in The Dreaming.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morpheus frowns. “This a dream, your dream.” The sky goes periwinkle as snow starts falling. “And I am King of Dreams, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms.”

“Oh,” you go, “should I bow or something?”

Your words elicit a rare smile from the dour man.

It made your smile grow, to know that you had made him smile.

“There is no need,” the small smile stays on his pink lips.

“No off with her head” you joke, accepting dream logic and not questioning it as you quote the Queen of Hearts.

Morpheus frowns. “I would not be so crude.”

“Oh so I should be worried,” you wiggle your brows.

“Not of me.” He utters softly, his eyes become glassy. “Not while you are under my protection.” Morpheus reaches for you. The back of his hand ghosts over your cheek.

You lean into his touch without a thought.

You meet his gaze unabashed.

He blinks slowly, peering at you through dark lashes. There was a sedate romance to him that the Brontë sisters could only dream of.

“I cannot stay,” he confesses with remorse.

“You did say you had stuff to do.”

“I do.”

His hand is soft against your cheek. Neither of you move, resting in the moment, holding the pause for as long as possible.

Morpheus draws away, standing. Snow falls around you but the temperature remains pleasant. Snowflakes fall on your arms and do not melt.

You stand.

It’s the awkward point where you’re waiting for him to leave but don’t want him to leave and he’s dragging it out too. You’ve been through this plenty of times on friends' doorsteps as you chat and say goodbye and wait.

He stuffs his hands in his coat. It touches the ground, melting away the snow around the hem with its soft red flames, more ember than anything.

Morpheus makes no move to leave.

You wait, taking in the sight of him. Snowflakes fall in his unbrushed hair.

“Here,” Morpheus draws something from his pocket.

“Oh.”

He drops it in your outstretched palm without ceremony. Morpheus looks away as you study the object.

It’s a necklace. The chain is simple gold. It’s the pendant that catches your eye.

Encased in glass are grains of sand. They swirl inside the glass on their own.

“Thank you,” you look over at him.

Morpheus nods slightly. “It allows you to enter The Dreaming at will.”

“A standing invitation then,” you wink.

“Yes.” He has a talent for filling words with a weight beyond their common vernacular. Morpheus’ gaze is heavy on you.

You can’t parse out why this is so important, but it obviously is for him.

You unlock the clasp, wrapping the chain around your neck. With your fingertips, you try to lock it. The clasp is impossible when you cannot see it.

The hairs at your nape get in the way.

“Allow me.” Morphues closes the distance between you.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He takes the chain from you, his fingers brushing against the back of your neck. He works swiftly, making quick work of it.

The pendant hangs in the middle of your chest.

Your heartbeat is hummingbird quick.

Morpheus’s breath tickles your nape.

You don’t dare move, fearing this is all a dream that will end if you do anything.

“I shall be expecting you.”

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint. Though it’s about to be crunch time and I’m not looking forward to-”

His actions cut you off.

Morpheus leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck chastely.

You draw in a breath.

The moment is over in the blink of an eye.

Something witty, sure to ruin the moment, is on the tip of your tongue as you turn, looking over your shoulder. But he’s gone.

****

The sand continues to swirl, defying gravity inside the pendant, when you wake.

You play with it as you scroll through files, read through work emails, and desperately try to recall the details of your dream.

You’ve never been more excited to sleep in your life.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #an understanding #lmao i love miscommunication as a trope #to morpheus: he explained what he is perfectly #meanwhile readers like: idk whats going on but im into it #unedited as usual

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somehow-a-human · 1 month

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The ineffables fell in love, and God & Satan decided to make a bet on true love.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay so, this is kind of a crack theory. But if this blog is for anything, it's for divulging my crack theories, and not feeling bad about it. My other blog is where I act like a properly sane person.

I have had a lot of nebulous thoughts that led to this theory but there was one bit of dialogue that tied it all together for me, that we will discuss at the very end. I'm going to start by laying out each of my *Clues* for you below, and we'll tie all my threads together by the end. Shall we begin?

Sanctuary Lights

Warlock, Adam, and most interestingly Maggie all have a single red light displayed on their right hand side of their "rooms". The symbolism of the right hand side implies the sacred, good, right, and stable. It's also where we find Aziraphale in reference to Crowley when they are balance and harmonious, Aziraphale is on Crowley's right.

A sanctuary light, is a light that shines before the altar of sanctuaries in many jewish and christian places of worship. A lit Sanctuary Lamp signifies the presence of God in the tabernacle that contains the Eucharist, and are traditionally red.

It's interesting that these three characters are linked via this specific visual. The assumed anti-christ, the actual anti-christ, and the local record shop owner? All of whom were somewhat under the watchful eyes of Crowley and Aziraphale at some point, but more-so Aziraphale. The right hand sidedness of the lights is initially confusing as you might expect Adam's to be on the left given he is the son of Satan, but we do know at the end of season one that he isn't good or bad, but rather, very human. What is this telling us about Maggie? I am a "Greasy Johnson is Jesus" truther but my mind wanted to go, "Oh maybe Maggie is Jesus!"

Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist

Not Aziraphale and Crowley's Earthly Playlist, no no no, their Angelic Playlist.

These songs definitely tell a story. They are full of heartbreak, and longing, misunderstanding and disagreement, all while flowing with an undertow of deep love. And don't even get me started on The Book of Love. I have loved that song for so long and when I saw that was one of Neil's 3 picks for this playlist I did tear up a bit.

These songs no doubt illustrate the final 15 minutes. Aziraphale wants to leave, he needs to go to heaven to fix things, to protect humanity, and Crowley is hurt, he wants Aziraphale to run away with him. But, could they also mirror something else? Could they mirror Crowley and Aziraphale's disagreement before the Great War and the Fall? I mean it is their Angelic playlist afterall. It could have very easily been their any-other-adjective playlist.

In the Before the beginning scene we are shown, Angel!Crowley wants to stand up for the universe, and protect his creations, and Aziraphale wants to put his head down and hide. Angel!Crowley tried to do what he thought was right, and it resulted in a boiling pool of sulphur. He doesn't think Aziraphale can succeed at what he has already failed to do. This time, Aziraphale is the one who wants to stand up to Heaven and protect creation and humanity, and Crowley knows what that looks like, so he just wants to run and keep Aziraphale safe.

Maybe that's why the final fifteen hurts so much, even if they might not remember it well, because maybe they've been through this before, before the beginning.

Magic shop Ventriloquist Dummies

Do you see the resemblance here? I really wish we could read their name tags clearly, I feel like that would give us a ton of information, and with time, hopefully we'll get that opportunity. And we do have information that each doll is named and they apparently had enough information for each of them and their dress that it warranted a spreadsheet so it must've been detailed and important. You can read that in this tweet from Mickey Ralph's twitter:

From Mickey Ralph, Good Omens graphic designer's twitter: "I need a list of all the dummies and their names with as much information as possible for each of them. I think it would be best to have a photo of each of them and establish some kind of spreadsheet so that we can make sure the dressers put the right names on the right dummies"

It has been vaguely stated the likenesses of the dolls was not purposeful here:

But I'd like to posit a guess that maybe this answer just means they didn't create the dolls to look like A & C, but maybe found ones that looked like them.

Do the dolls mimic the hierarchy of God and heaven? Why are there two Crowley's? Why is Muriel so far up? Was she a high ranking angel before she was possibly demoted and became a 37th order scrivner?

@noneorother has a more in depth analysis of the puppets here, if you'd like to read their take.

"Enough to Make you Believe in True Love?"

This dialogue is what set off the chain reaction that led to my ultimately writing this post. Don't remember this quote? It's easy to miss and seemingly unimportant. Just after Gabriel recovers his memories and Shax accuses Beelzebub of being a traitor we get this:

Beelzebub: "I didn't collaborate with Heaven, anymore than Gabriel collaborated with Hell. I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides" Maggie: "That's really sweet" Nina: "Enough to make you believe in true love?"

Maggie and Nina who are still in the bookshop and watching these events unfold have been silent, but finally share these two lines. And I finally noticed, it's kind of a weird thing for Nina to say to Maggie, no? Why wouldn't Maggie believe in true love? Why does Nina think Maggie wouldn't believe in true love? We've seen Maggie pining over Nina and saying she's in love with her earlier in the season so why might a romantic who's never even talked to the woman she claims to be in love with not believe in true love, and why might her and Nina have discussed that before?

Is this little aside a conversation really being had by Nina and Maggie?

The Job Bet

That's why he's perfect for the bet! This is the final piece to my puzzle before I wrap up my ramblings and try to coherently tell you how they fit together. God and Satan make a bet, to see if Job is really truly righteous, and loves God, even if She takes away everything she's given him. They aren't above making bets about their creations, and taking everything away from them, testing them to destruction.

Conclusion

Let me weave you a web... The Starmaker, and Aziraphale meet in what we see is the first scene of season two. Maybe in the time before the fall they become close, and fall in love. Angels shouldn't have free will so that shouldn't be possible right? God and Lucifer!Satan? (maybe?) take notice and talk about it, maybe how they did with Job? Maybe they disagree about true love. Maybe God insists that in the ineffable plan, Crowley and Aziraphale will always end up together no matter what. Satan disagrees, they can be driven apart. They make a deal, a bet. The fall is inevitable, its ineffable, so they ensure Crowley and Aziraphale end up on either side of the factions, God lets Satan destroy everything they have, and then they'll see...

Fast forward to The Great War, the Starmaker doesn't really want to rebel like the other angels but gets swept up on their side of things, on the losing side, maybe with a bit of divine or demonic intervention. All he ever did was ask questions! He and Aziraphale are separated. Later, the Serpent of Eden slithers up next to the Angel of the Eastern Gate and strikes up a conversation. They don't remember each other, maybe a vague impression of familiarity, but the demon can't help but be drawn to the angel.

God and Satan we now know must chat about the goings on of Earth, making bets about Job and all that. That's at least my possible explanation for why Nina and Maggie have those weird lines during the Ineffable Bureaucracy reveal. Maybe God and Satan popped in to check on their bet and see what was happening with their stupid free wheeling creations?

Despite everything Aziraphale and Crowley are still together after all this time, and they do love each other. But they can always continue to be tested, even to destruction, or so they may believe.

Hey look, I'm not saying any of this is at all accurate but it was fun to come up with hehe.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley x aziraphale #good omens theories #crowley #michael sheen #aziraphale #david tennant #good omens clues #good omens theory #good omens clue #good omens crack theory #you dont have to take this seriously #like at all i wont be disappointed #but it was fun to write

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noneorother · 7 months

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The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2 hangs on - you guessed it - a double meaning (and art). *Part 3*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The End? This is major spoilers for season 3 territory. You have been warned. I'm also going to split this into parts because wow, I have so many ✨Clues✨! My peeps, before I show you the prestige, we need to discuss Maggie. Maggie is SO WEIRD.

Right up top we get her telling us this. Who loves something since they were a baby? Since you were a kid sure, but how can you remember loving something since you were a baby?

This one's fun. The double meaning here is 1) I was a huge uptight nerd so I never went to parties and/or 2) I wasn't a human teenager so I never got to go to your earth parties. But check out when Nina and Maggie *first* meet in her coffee shop. We spend a lot of time in this scene, because it's framed as a meet cute, but it's also full of weird dialogue.

So i'm not a writer, someone feel free to tell me I'm wrong, but Maggie is remembered by Nina AS A COFFEE. She IS a skinny latte. This works on two levels again. 1) You're not important enough to me to remember you as a person, just as an order. 2) You do not fit into my memory of people I know, but subconsciously I remember you as NOT a regular human.

And then again when she leaves the shop, Nina isn't paying attention and just sort of subconsciously replies:

Again, two meanings. Maggie is unimportant to her, Maggie is also a *coffee*.

Which is weird, because as far as I can tell Maggie never drinks a coffee, or anything for that matter. Sure she orders stuff in the shop, and is offered food and alcohol, but we never see her actually drink or eat any of it. She stirs the tea but never takes a sip.

So what IS Maggie then? Many people have pointed out that Maggie and Nina are a coffeeshop AU of our heroes. Their visual presentation seems to be screaming Nina = Crowley! and Maggie = Aziraphale! And they *work* on opposite sides of the street and everything! So is Maggie just a stand-in for Aziraphale then, to make the parable work? Cool, then what's the parable?

Uh oh. What possible AU fiction ends up with the main love interests breaking up with their toxic ex, dancing in a ball and fighting demons together and then... just not ending up together? An AU written by kind of a bad writer who wants to show the two lovebirds he's trying to separate that it will never work. Oh hey look The Metatron is here:

Now, I think the same guy that has been adding bits and pieces in the past would have no problem adding stuff and/or people in the present to make a point. Maggie also seems to be pretty sure about quite a lot of things that I wouldn't be sure about, given the context.

Maggie's knows it's not going to do any good, but she has to tell them anyway? Tell them what, that Nina and Maggie talked it out and never ended up together? Wow, what a great message. Thanks Maggie. Maggie isn't just a downer of an example though, remember she's also A COFFEE! Shoved in Aziraphael's and Crowley's faces, asking them to take it and help her since the beginning.

There's a concept in magic tricks called a force, where it seems like someone has free will ; to put a card anywhere in a deck, or pick a number, or volunteer, but actually the outcome has been chosen for them by the magician for the trick to work. The actual trick is about getting the person to think they've freely chosen to participate in the trick, not the act of revealing the card. The real trick was never making Maggie and Nina try to fall in love, it was getting Aziraphael to think he had freely chosen to help Maggie get this whole thing going. And if we know one thing about Aziraphael, it's that he's actually terrible at magic. Aziraphael has been primed to take the coffee in S2E6, because he's been taking the coffee the whole season. Ready for the prestige reveal after the force? We're going right to The Metatron in Part 4.

#good omens prime #go season 2 #go3 #good omens s3 #good omens meta #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #go meta #ineffable husbands #art director talks good omens #nina and maggie #coffeeshop au #go spoilers

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slickfordain · 1 year

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Heyy! I love your works and I just got into SAGAU. I was planning on making a second acct for genshin and it got me thinking how the charas would react in the second acct where their creator basically speed runs the quest XD, how do you think they will react? Keep up the good work and have a great day ahead <3

Wish to relate,, but I think my twin can relate to you AKDBSKBS - also forgive me for the delay, I had so much work

Yandere-themed, male MC (Aether), Abyss princess (Lumine), platonic children

Consider this as… Creating a second universe, a second world. So everything and everyone would be the exact same, having the same thoughts and same dialogues that would take many minutes to finish. So your first instincts?

It was leveling Aether up to 40 along with the characters that the Mondstadt quest ended so quickly. The battle with Dvalin wasn’t even that badly… And how do these characters react?

Mondstadt arc, Amber felt the light of her God before her speech was being somehow interrupted so quickly. Aether couldn’t quite catch on with what she said, before feeling his body movement speeding up somehow… His eyes were widening every time, and many, MANY characters didn’t understand how and why were their speeches going shorter.

Jean tried finding a solution, she did, really. But while everyone was so confused— this made Aether incredibly happy. Don’t get him wrong, he would like to know more about the world of Teyvat- but just feeling someone guiding him the right path… He couldn’t help but feel so— powerful. The way he defeated Dvalin under just a mere minute.. He was in euphoria. Oh, whoever controlled him, please marry him.

Then there was the Liyue arc. Zhongli has tried stopping the nonsense of the dialogues being skipped, but even his own ability rejected him and now he can’t even speak properly. So many complaints.. So many questions— Liyue and Mondstadt were at this point having a conversation and deals with one another to figure why the hell is Aether getting so strong these past few days.

Until, Xingqiu and a person from Inazuma named “Ayato”, have been doing secret deals with Inazuma, to encounter many characters with a suspicious book shipped from Sumeru. Yes, Kaveh and Alhaitham have visited Mondstadt before the festival— To greet their old witch friend, Lisa. So thanks to Lisa, she has tried giving Diluc and Jean some clues but…

Considering how competitive the blonde and the red haired man is;; you can tell they didn’t really listen to Lisa, so the woman gave up on lending a hand to them and kept talking to Xingqiu about the secret of Sumeru to ship it off to Inazuma. Ayato was the first one to reach it, so now, everyone is ecstatic to hear the theory Xingqiu and Ayato has for now.

You.

It was you all along who controlled the traveler, leveling him and making sure he stayed in shape. The book is scarily detailed about your features and shape, and how you are just a human Godly being speeding everything up. Was everything slow? Why were you speeding up?

Just… Who were you, and why do they feel like they’ve seen you before?

The first account you made, or well, the first “world” of Teyvat— would become anxious. Where have you been? They haven’t seen you since “one week ago”. (Remember, one minute in-game = one second irl) Zhongli was impatiently sitting by his chair, biting his tip of the pen aggressively because he missed you so.

Why did you leave?

Why aren’t you coming back?

Did the Acolytes and him… Scare you?

No. All warmth came back when the sun shone brighter, revealing your name up in the sky again, mentioning you’ve logged back on.

You were back. As you should be.

You got so many mails from the Acolytes. The desperate cries, the gifts of primogems and wishes, the salted tears being soaked into a bottle- To say the least, you were pretty shocked of what just happened. There were detailed apology letters, the “last” confession letters;; thinking it was all over therefore they’re confessing to you.

You could even notice when you went to check on your party, that, Lumine’s skin / arm was completely slightly literally peeled. You were horrified. Was this a new update? Did you miss anything? Was this Lumine’s new skin? Can you change it???

“Man what the fuck I just started another Teyvat story by using Aether this time— is mans gonna have peeled skin too?”

Your voice was very quiet, very soft and gentle;; but the Acolytes heard your voice clear enough because you were near the screen. Their eyes would widen, the Shogun would stop her little “festival” of the visions— and stare at the sky with everyone else. Another story of Teyvat?

The Raiden Ei wouldn’t think it would be possible to go across a dimensional world… But clearly you’ve proven yourself YOU could do that. Only you. The Archons are… Confused…. But so excited… Another story? Did you enjoy them that much, that you’ve created another world? Oh… Oh sweet sweet divine.

Venti’s on his knees, hands clapped together and gazed upon the sky with a massive blush crossing his face. Praying, yelling, being in euphoria. “Your grace! We love you so much! We will try our best to keep you more happy!” Was all that left Venti’s lips, before the Acolytes decided to let you have your fun, and tell them about your story of using another twin that technically was related to the female traveler, Lumine.

Lumine glances at you once in a while in complete awe. You… You can control her other twin too… You knew where he was— and you decided to make a world where he isn’t with the Abyss… But question is, who is in the Abyss then?

Curious Acolytes… They couldn’t help themselves but to also feel jealous. They wanted to keep you for themselves but… Now there’s a different version of them. And it’s not wrong to say the second account felt the same way despite not even knowing who you are and what they were doing… They just felt like they suddenly knew their backstories and knew they just existed.

The Abyss princess Lumine, in your second account, was able to even understand who you were immediately, quicker than the others as her hands were nothing but spilled with cherry red. Her sword drawn with a small glow, blood leaking down, her eyes darting up in the sky with a massive blush;; her pupils being replaced with hearts. And her soul? Corrupted. This was her reason of staying in Teyvat. This was her reason of choosing the Abyss over her brother. It’s because of you.

The second account’s world with the Acolytes soon starts to grow on understanding the situation. Their minds and feelings have gone completely out of hand, and they don’t know why. The story of the God, you, being read about… Just twisted their minds and hearts. Shaky breaths, scratching their skins, it was a mere second they could see you up in the sky too.

Oh good gracious…

You were…

Beautiful / handsome.

And Aether could’ve sworn he feels himself getting distracted over and over again, accidentally killing the Mitachurls and destroying ruin guards out of love.

Yae Miko has insisted herself, from now on, the Inazuma civilians will now only write the story of how the God looks like. Something the other Yae Miko wouldn’t do. Oh, did you think this was over? Haha. I blame you for making a second account, dear.

You see, if the accounts— worlds— knew they were created by you, then it’s obvious they’re trying to show off which world is better.

They will always find a way to outshine the other— which lead them having the same goal. They want to be with you. Gifts, more gifts, and gifts again. You were gifted with primogems. You at this point, didn’t even say anything else as you had to be very grateful of what you were gifted with. For Hoyoverse, clearly has favorites.

Ayaka challenging the other Ayaka by dancing is something you could notice by. The other Ayaka would seem stiff while the other would be more smooth and elegant- not that you gave a shit by… Or, perhaps noticing Venti’s small mistake on a song while the other Venti did it with no mistakes. Not one bit.

Perhaps Diluc and Kaeya getting along more better than the other Diluc and Kaeya. Such immature boys, who would ever want to fight by such little things? Totally not them.

Or, again, maybe you could notice the quality of the two worlds. The high intelligence, Alhaitham suddenly knowing more about the Archons and Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif flooding you and the traveler with so many lore and informations, Nahida dumping you a whole fucking book about the war, the other children damaging more and more.

You were…

Interested, to say the least… But being tired, you never really cared about stuff like these. You still thought this was part of the lore of the characters doing such things, and somehow, you ended up getting Snezhnaya, Fontaine, and even Natlan into your map that had you going: 🗿⁉️

Since when did you even have that much storage?

Now there’s more characters— and the Hydro Archon was there too? Oh… Oh shit. If the Hydro Archon is there, that means clearly the other world of that said account you’re in right now has to do better. Cute, they got Snezhnaya and other nations? Baby shit.

Feast your eyes on Celestia.

“Ayo what why is Celestia here I— Are we really gonna fight it? Hell no—”

You were now just peacefully collecting papers and things to defeat Celestia;; feeding your characters and pampering them. Doesn’t matter which account, because why in the ever loving Archons is Celestia even released? You’re going to die like this without a spoiler alert from Hoyoverse.

You’ve got whatever you needed, didn’t you? If that wasn’t enough, then the Acolytes will do more. Xiao and Hu Tao will erase every ruin guards. You hated them so much didn’t you? It’s only right they eliminate those bastards.

The Fatuis, are no better either in condition. The Tsaritsa has sent many and many workers to kill off innocence, and some people who are never good enough for you.

Say for example the perfume lady and her crafting boyfriend who were making and crafting potions for a way of letting those two into your place, and take you in for the care… Yeah they absolutely died too. They weren’t safe to begin with.

Oh, would you look at that? You logged off.

I should make a second account

#various x reader #various #yandere x reader #yandere sagau genshin impact #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau

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