#decent chapter overall

[boinin]

Kaisagi shippers are going to have a field day with this week's leaks 💀

Kneel to me, you fucking clown

#decent chapter overall #seems to cover about a year or so? #blue lock spoilers #blue lock manga spoilers #blue lock leaks #blue lock #bllk #bllk chp 261 #michael kaiser #isagi yoichi #kaisagi #mine

[sillystringedrat]

Since recently learning abt the Lego Friends reboot I kinda went silly into a rabbit hole so now I have notes on the first ep and first impressions :3

Zac

* Definitely has some underlying social anxiety

* Lots of interests (that he makes up for other people)

* Gives major good boy dumb jock energy

* Seems to get caught up in his emotions and dismisses anything else that doesn’t have his attention, as seen with how he constantly dismisses Paisley when he’s enraptured with something.

* RAGING PEOPLE PLEASER

* Probably a good dose of bottled up emotions

* Oblivious to physical boundaries (get better soon honey)

* Oblivious also to some—mostly emotional—social cues

* LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH !!!!

* Probably has lived with some expectations to make him the way he is

Paisley

* Introverted, perhaps has social anxiety but not in the same way as Zac (parallels perhaps?)

* Knows her boundaries and is obviously miffed at being treated the way she was

* Has problems with being a pushover, but she doesn’t guilt trip her brain into thinking she must do it, only frustrated she can’t stick up for herself

* Seems to be used to Lianne’s shenanigans

* Unlike what I originally thought, she seems to have no problem opening up to someone—at least when under stress, seeing as she opened up about her stress with Zac to Nova.

* Also bottles up emotions, but unlike Zac presumably she does let them out when people are available

* Seems to not know how to properly socialize to make a new friend, despite this she is quite emotionally intelligent

Lianne

* Has ADHD, extroverted

* Literally just me smh

* Seems to know Paisley’s boundaries and they seem good enough friends that when she pushes Paisley’s comfort zone, Paisley isn’t that angry about it

* However she knows when someone has gone too far and will defend her friend

* Adopts introverts like it’s nobody’s business

* Has nothing but good intentions but sometimes puts people in situations she would better handle

Olly

* Gay ass /j (or is it a premonition?)

* Interested in fashion

* Loves being recognized for his work (perhaps his work isn’t that often? ) This thought is disproven his intro is literally him posing at his locker

Leo

* General good guy as of now

* FUNKY!!! BUTTON!!! UPS!!!

* Him, Aaliyah and Autumn seem to be pretty close friends already

*He’s my son

Nova

* Seems to be the typical nonchalant/distant one of the group for now

* A little arrogant about boasting her gamer status but eh

* So far the one putting the least effort into making dynamics with the other characters

* Just wants to chill

* Her gamer reputation seems to be a generally known fact considering Aaliyah comments if Zac plays video games around her. That or Aaliyah is the type of person to get to know every one of her classmates general interest, either one is likely.

* Can be pretty blunt

Aaliyah

* GIFTED OVERACHIEVER EXTRACURRICULAR KID ALERT

* Too busy than any child has the right to be

* A part of student council

* Very cheerful and welcoming to everyone

* Very organized and determined, a go-getter

* Probably lesbian (LISTEN—)

* Seems to not have much time for her friends although she would love to (Autumn and Leo don’t seem to mind much and seem to be understanding of her situation)

* DEFINITELY has been set up for high expectations

* Control freak to some extent

Idk if I’ll share my thoughts on the other eps, maybe if they’re long enough who knows .,.

#lego friends reboot #lego friends next chapter #silly thoughts of mine #currently i am rotating these lego people in my head like microwave #PsychoANALYZING these brick organisms #searching for the queer too #overall its a pretty decent show maybe I’ll write down my thoughts on it overall #this one is just character-centric so #have some food lego friends fans who are still around :’)

[belethlegwen]

Read You Like A Book

Every so often the patter of the rain on the massive, storeys-tall windows would match exactly the rhythm of the music they were listening to. In the spaces between songs one could close their eyes and pretend that it was the applause for the symphony or quartet or the singular guitar that had just finished playing. The lights had been turned to an orange-ish glow, similar in ways to a fireplace, save for the strange, twisting-armed lamp that was pointing white light from over her shoulder to land on a book.

“We could’ve done this downstairs, near the actual fireplace,” Henry piped up from his chair as he used one of his bare feet to lazily scroll the phone-screen in front of him. He had wound up on a long article regarding banking and how banks had evolved over the years, and was playing a game with himself that he had become quite adept at: Seeing how far he could get through an article or page like this before it fell so far beyond his understanding that he became frustrated with it.

“Hm?” Melanie’s eyes didn’t so much as lift from the page as they continued to move back and forth across the words, one hand holding the book open and the other seemingly stuck half-way through brushing her own hair back from the side of her face. “What?”

The seven-inch tall man smirked as he turned to look at her, the massive shape of her leaned against the back of the couch with a leg sprawled down over the massive cushions and the other’s knee acting as a brace for her book-holding. “Changing the lighting is nice, but I was just saying that if you wanted it to feel like reading by a fireplace, you happen to have one.”

The giant woman smirked, moving to mark her place with a finger as she turned to him. “The rain doesn’t sound as good in the basement,” she said, “and I didn’t know if you’d find it too warm or--”

“If I ever find anything outside of your oven too warm here, I’ll be certain to let you know,” he retorted clearly, the two of them laughing. As they chuckled themselves out, he rubbed at his eyes. Staring at the phone screen made his lids feel wrinkled and droopy after so long.

“How’s tonight’s research?” She asked, her eyes moving almost hungrily back to her book. His brow furrowed slightly as he watched her, it was rare for her to be focused on anything more than conversation.

“Riveting,” he drawled sarcastically. “Though I’ve learned about all I care to about types of banks to a certain point.”

“How did you get to banking?” She asked incredulously, making a face as she went back to reading.

“I was following up on the questions of your currency from the other day and then I was suddenly here,” he grumbled, turning back to look at the screen. He could probably suffer through some more before he felt completely lost, but he still wasn’t yet sure if it was worth it.

“I can show you how to get to real books, if you like,” she offered, turning the page and leaning forward as if she’d somehow miss the words at the top of the next. “Fiction, fantasy, biographies…”

The way her hand moved away from the book again, coming back to jam the tip of her thumb between her teeth as she slipped further and further into the pages in front of her was capturing his attention more than the history of banks had, to understate the feeling. He sighed, already letting his eyes wander to the make-shift steps down to the floor. “No, thank you though,” he said. “I think I’m finished with staring at screens, for at least a while.”

“Did you w--”

“No, please,” he said, already heading for the exit from the coffee table, “I’m fine to entertain myself. Keep reading and I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”

Her eyes had never actually left the book, so when she nodded and hummed an affirmative reply he couldn’t help but to chuckle quietly to himself. He could start a fire in this room if he felt like it, and she wouldn’t notice until her pages started to blacken.

In honesty, Henry was jealous. The books that had been on the Massengale had been damaged, lost, or completely destroyed save for some of the logbooks and journals he and the men had been keeping. The one book that could’ve been considered pleasurable reading was one he had read a couple of times before, and hadn’t felt in the mood to try and pick through the warped pages to make out something he was fairly certain he could remember almost verbatim. 

Whatever she was reading seemed new to her, fresh in a way that she was liable to get completely pulled into, and the ways it pinched and pulled at her expressions as she read gave away so much. Something intense had been happening, almost upsetting, but evidently they had gotten through satisfactorily as she had relaxed again.

His feet took a moment to adjust to the soft give of the cushions as he finished climbing the other make-shift stairs up to the couch. Her toes were curling… something uncomfortable happening, if the way she was biting her lip was anything to take stock in. 

Melanie’s face vanished behind the book as he walked toward her, and he could only focus on the way her fingers gripped and slid against the spine, holding the thing with some noted effort against her knee. He had been past this one several times on the shelf before, and it was a full foot and a half taller than he was at least. 

Her chest rose with a quick intake of breath through her nose, a faint, barely-there grunt following it as her hand moved to flick the page with a sense of impatience. This time her fingers moved to thread into the longer section of her hair, weaving into the dark roots. They didn’t grip or pull, they simply rested there, ready to react to whatever may be around the next corner of the paragraphs hanging in front of her.

Henry stood alongside the fold of her waist, her hip coming nearly to his chest where she sank into the cushion so deeply. The small man was completely amused as he watched her eyes jitter back and forth, the expression on her face growing sour. Waiting until her second hand was moving to turn the page again, he cleared his throat quietly and called up to her.

“It’s a shame you aren’t enjoying it.”

Melanie’s slight jump sent him into open laughter as she took a second to locate him, seeing only his discarded boots still on the coffee table next to his chair and then turning down at the feeling of him bracing himself on her hip, gripping the belt loop on her pants to start pulling himself up. “I just don’t like this guy very much,” she replied, watching him in confusion a second before moving to close her book. “Can I--”

“No,” Henry said, turning to look up at her after managing to get his knees onto her waist, her body rocking gently as she turned and twisted herself faintly in an attempt to guess at what he was doing. “Go back to your reading.”

“Henry,” she said, her hand dropping to move toward him and he pointed at it threateningly.

“No, I said,” he stressed with a laugh, his eyes moving up to lock with one of her massive hazel-ringed pupils. “Ignore me.”

“What are you doing?” She asked, chuckling as the book hung around her thumb like a thick bookmark. It was clear she wasn’t going to get back to her business until she had some kind of answer from him, so once he was a bit more stable he leaned up on his knees and tried to maintain all the confidence he could while every breath and twitch sent his arms out to find balance or purchase again.

“I was cur-- just curious about what you were reading,” he stammered through his wobbles. The slanted smirk and quirked eyebrow she shot at him were all the clues he needed to know she wasn’t buying what he was trying to sell. He waved a hand at her dismissively, deciding to just be blunt instead. “Go back to it, you’re ruining my fun.”

A sigh left her that took a few seconds before it washed over him like a gentle breeze, but her head turned and her hands got busy fixing her massive tome back to its spot, eyes scanning the pages a few times until she found the words she had left again. “Just let me know if you need help--”

“I won’t,” he called to her almost sing-song, gripping onto a button of her blouse as she tried to hide her laughter. “Just stay as you are and I’ll be satisfied.”

“That’s good to know,” she replied, and he watched to make sure she was reading again. Waiting, confirming she was getting lost in whatever this blue-covered book might be showing her, he knew he wasn’t completely out of her view but he was comfortable in the thought that he was at least beyond her immediate attention.

The angle was stranger, but there was still a lot he could read here. The tension in her neck muscles as she swallowed, the way her nostrils flared. He could still make it out as her cheeks began to flush. The sailor smiled to himself, this couldn’t be better; he had managed to arrive exactly as she got to something intriguing. A few small twitches here and there from her made placing his feet and hands a bit trickier as he tried to map a way to her shoulder, but that was hardly a deterrent.

Melanie’s eyes were scanning slower now, blinking more. He was attempting to take this slowly, wondering if it would be possible for her to be so engrossed in what she was reading that she’d forget about him entirely. She flipped to the next page, clacking her teeth as she did, and her free hand braced against her neck this time.

The sounds of her breathing had become softer, quicker, and more shallow as he reached to grab the highest button she had done up on her shirt, situating his feet to make the next part of the climb as swiftly as possible. He turned, attempting to land his eyes on whatever she was reading to get a hint as to what was so captivating to her that she was reading sections over and over, her cheeks still flushed.

Henry couldn’t make out much, and certainly couldn’t see anything that would have her heart pounding against her ribcage beneath him so loudly and so fiercely he felt each pump shake him faintly. He found it hard not to laugh; back home, books that would set a woman’s heart racing were thin things, easy to keep secret around the house. While he’d never disbelieve there was a difference here that made those kinds of stories seem to stretch for hundreds of pages, he found it pleasantly surprising she’d read one so openly.

Two more moves would be all it took to get him to her shoulder. Just two. Her lips were stretched in a thin line, uncomfortable, as her heart continued its loud percussive thumping.

One of his feet slipped on the jump forward, causing him to drop with a thud against her body as they both let out startled sounds, gigantic movement setting several things in motion at once.

“Henry--” she breathed in exasperation.

“I’m sorry, just-- let me go--” he stammered through his embarrassment as he squirmed under the massive hand that had landed on top of him and pinned him to her. His feet could find no purchase at her new angle, having sat up in fright at the sudden commotion. Her hand didn’t immediately remove itself, pressing him against her chest as it heaved with her breaths and rapid pulse, her body instead hesitating a moment before leaning back against the cushions.

“Sorry,” she muttered, finally lifting the weight off but keeping her palm over him. “Where,” she stressed as he started to try and push himself back up with his hands again, “are you going?”

A sigh exploded out of him, his face already red from the embarrassment of his own blunder. “Shoulder,” he admitted flatly, awkwardly trying to push her hand away before it could do what he was expecting it to: lift him directly there.

“There are so many easier ways,” she whined, a quiet chuckle escaping at the end. “Why? I’m just reading--”

“I wanted to know what you were reading!” He said defensively, giving up and throwing both of his arms over her fingers defeatedly, her thumb snaking around his back as he sulked. Her entire form shifted around him as her legs both folded up, her hand moving to let the book open from around her thumb against them and rest it there, her torso sliding further down the back of the couch.

The sailor didn’t want to admit while he was literally in the giant woman’s hand that he thought it was funny to see how far he could get while she was ignoring him, lost in a novel as deeply as she was. He tried to ignore the queasiness that came over him every time he was grabbed like this, just anticipating that upsetting squeezing feeling from all around as his legs dangled and his gravity shifted beyond all of his control, but it didn’t come.

Melanie continued to shift in minute-but-gigantic ways around him as he felt his body slide backwards up over her body, stopping just before her shoulder. “Here,” she said quietly, letting him go against the gentle slope of the top of her chest, just alongside her collarbone. “Is this good?”

Henry’s cheeks were blotchy and red as he adjusted himself into a kind of sitting-leaning position, eyes dropping to the book. The side of her face was warm enough he could feel it radiating from her own red cheeks, and her heart and breathing were only now settling back to something less panicky. “This is fine,” he said, leaning on one elbow to shove the collar of her shirt a bit further away from him with the other arm. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied a bit pointedly, her head turning and the nearest eye trying to focus on him, giving up quickly. The smirk or smile that tugged at what he could see of her lips stung him a bit more, but nothing else followed as she moved to focus on the book again, one finger dragging over the page as she tried to remember her place. “I’m lucky I didn’t drop it,” she explained after a moment of their half-awkward, half-comfortable silence. “There’s no page numbers for some reason.”

In spite of his ruined fun, Henry’s eyes were scanning the pages that were open in front of him. Names he didn’t recognize, confusing out-of-context dialogue, something about an alibi… but nothing exceptionally scandalous was standing out. Nothing that would make any woman he had known get their heart fluttering and their body tense with some kind of anticipation. Brows furrowed, he asked as directly as his wounded-but-still-fighting pride would allow, “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything important. What’s happening in the book?”

“Hm?” She hummed, head tipping toward him but her eyes locked on the pages again now that she’d found where she left off. “Oh, guy named Tryst is helping two women escape the… castle? Keep? I haven’t picked up the book for a while…” she chattered, the breathy ghosts of words vaguely following what she said as she mouthed what she was reading, her lips closing before he could make sense of any of them.

“Is it exciting?” he asked, hardly able to hide his confusion as he blurted the question.

“Not particularly,” she drawled on a sigh. “I’m not sold on Tryst, personally. Ren and Orangecloak I like so far, but… eh. Just not a fan of Tryst yet. Hoping I can kind of… come around on him because he’s been in this a lot so far and there’s…” the giant woman tipped the back of the book up to look at what must be another 70-75% of novel remaining. She sighed. “There’s a lot of book left for him to be in and I don’t want him to put me off of an otherwise good story.”

Henry was baffled. He was literally sitting on her, next to that massive face. He would be able to tell if she was lying; this didn’t seem like a lie.

“Why do you ask?” Melanie filled the silence again after she went back to reading. 

The small man huffed quietly, crossing his legs at his bare ankles as he reclined backwards. If the book really was so… unimpressive to her, then why would she have gotten so tense? He had been right under her, watching her neck muscles strain. He watched her eyes go back over and over the page like she hadn’t read the words at all the first time. Her heart had been practically pummeling against her chest while he was there to feel it. She couldn’t lie about it if she had tried to.

As she turned the page, it really wasn’t anything scandalous or intense or frightening or… whatever he had thought it was. She was interested in it, certainly, but not to the degree he had seen; the degree that he had felt.

Her pulse and breathing now-- after the shock of his mishap had evidently finished fading-- was normal enough. It was practically unnoticeable if he wasn’t looking for it specifically, just gentle rhythms underneath him. His mouth opened to answer her when her arm shifted to adjust its hold on the book, rocking him sideways a slight. His hand swung out to find balance, landing on her neck.

She tensed; a short, shallow hiss of breath shooting into her.

Her heartbeat was so prominent suddenly he could practically hear it as well as feel it.

An apology quickly slipped out of him before he settled himself back into position, smirking faintly as it all started to click into place. “I was just asking to make conversation,” he lied, amused as he watched the fresh blush on her cheeks. 

“Ah,” she said, off-handedly and distracted as her eyes were scanning the page again. “Did you want conversation? Because I can put the book down and--” “No, I’m fine.” He relaxed, sinking against her. “Don’t let me distract you.” 

A soft, skeptical chuckle escaped her, but her eyes kept on their journey over the pages. He otherwise would’ve been jealous again, but…

If he wanted to pull her attention away from the book, apparently he knew exactly how to get it.

#Please enjoy this short little story #Just felt like writing it and today seemed like a good enough day to post it #Henry/Melanie #Canonically would fall sometime during The Rescue #Just something cozy #Felt like it #Felt like sharing #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #gentle giantess #The Stranding #Chapter 21 #Paragraph 17 #There's an alternate ending to this one that I got a decent ways into before I figured this one was better for the overall tone of it #The other ending would've stretched for days in comparison probably #gt #giant tiny #g/t author #gtauthor #author thoughts #anyway please enjoy <3

[callixton]

oh i’ll just do one fifteen minute sprint before bed i said. here i am, an hour later

#made some decent progress w prob the most important/difficult scene of the chapter at least #writing slow but steadier overall tonight i think #ok goodnight . as soon as i can chill out #ughhh i gotta wake up so early . SAM >:( #ted talks #writing

[lordsardine]

.

#okay. i got through the most dull chunk for the adult novel #and i finished grammar edits for a chapter for the MG novel and then studied the sensitivity reader notes again #i get to start implementing some of these notes next chapter (which factors into a reason why i put this off for a bit) but feel good #overall. decently productive #i think i can get some decent edits/writing done for the MG novel this weekend. i'll table the adult one for a bit since im ahead #miscellaneous #also think i might take myself out for an Activity™ on staurday #maybe a museum. and then a cafe to write. tbd #and then next next weekend i'll be overheating in flordia where i expect to get not to much writing done lmfao #Anyway™.

[oflgtfol]

i said this jokingly back when i first watched chapter 16, that it would be funny if the show just ended right then and there, but honestly upon further thought. if chapter 16 had actually been done well, by which i mean the whole final interaction with luke was entirely rewritten to be much better than it was in canon, then i actually dont think i’d be mad if the show did end there. it’d just have a sad ending but it’d at least be an ending that was like, decent for what the show had been building towards up to that point

#like the entire show was like. find a jedi for grogu so he can be returned to his people #and beside that then it was moff gideon #so chapter 16. grogu is returned to a jedi! and moff gideon is defeated! #like. you wrap up both story elements right there! #it would have been a decent ending! #the only thing that wouldve sucked would be leaving it on the final note of the whole luke thing #which like. it sucks. the luke thing sucks #but if that part was executed better overall then really it would have been a nice ending. just sad #but sometimes sad endings are ok. yknow. #brot posts #mando posting #now in s3 its like what is this show even ABOUT anymore things are just happening for the sake of happening #to justify the show existing at all

[whats-in-a-sentence]

This book, I hope, might help a little in the process.

"Why the West Rules – For Now: The patterns of history and what they reveal about the future" - Ian Morris

#book quotes #why the west rules – for now #ian morris #nonfiction #hopes #overall a decent book #i'll slap the appendix in the queue for tomorrow #very accessible reading #just long #unfortunately my world history hyperfixation ran out two chapters in so took a little longer than usual to read haha

[tasmanianstripes]

Amazing how it took the developers of Poppy Playtime two whole chapters to finally make a bare minimum of a functional game

#like yeah its leagues above the previous chapters but thats because the previous chapters were a hittily put together sloppy buggy mess that #shouldnt have been released in the way that they are right now. Chapter 3 is what chapter 1 should have been like #and yeah it's still a cashgrab at heart. its so distateful that they already made merch for chapter 3 that you could buy BEFORE it even #released. theyre 100% money driven. but at least if chapter 4 improves even more on what was in chapter 3 i think it can be a decent game #i dont think it can ever be a GOOD game because of what a disaster of two first chapters it has. not unless they completely rework them. and #with its story reaching its end slowly i doubt there even is time to make it a good game even if the last chapters are amazing in quality. #even if the last chapters are GREAT (which i doubt) it will never be anything else than a highly mixed medicore at best game. because it'll #always have this shitty developer studios' greed and the shitshow that were the first 2 chapters weighing it down #honestly. if chapter 3 or something akin to it was the first thing that was released of this game i would have actually liked it. yeah it #wouldnt be GREAT but it'd be decent and enjoyable. but instead it has its garbage first chapters staining what it could have been. it's #insane that I even have to praise a developer studio for delivering a BARE MINIMUM of a game. what the fuck is this. what happened to the #state of games. its shameful that releasing a barely functional nothing burger and charging for it became acceptable in any way #that aside even chapter 3 could improve in many areas. it feels more like a puzzle game with horror elements rather than a horror game with #puzzle elements. every time you get to a puzzle the game just halts to a complete stop. all the suspence they could have gotten just #completely dies on the spot. ive played and watched many horror games with puzzles in them and i like them a lot but this is just not how #you do that. it feels like youre walking from puzzle to a puzzle and all the interesting things that happen with actual substance happen in #between puzzles but instead of focusing on that it feels like the game focuses on the puzzles. it should be the other way around damn it #but i think if chapter 4 keeps the overall quality of chapter 3 and ups the scares while dailing down the puzzles or incorporating them #better into the atmosphere and story it might actually be a good horror game. well that chapter at least. #also ik the monster designs are very...mascot horror and analogue horror cliches but i actually enjoy them. Mummy Longlegs was medicore and #forgetful like the rest of her chapter and her only saving grace was her death scene. Huggy Wuggy's (god what a name) design and animations #and chase sequence were the only good thing of chapter 1 so i think if it was put into something of much better quality then it could #actually hold up. And I really like CatNap's design for some reason. The way he moves is creepy and yeah the face design is goofy as hell #but i can forgive it. i like that the fumes he releases makes you see him as a far creepier monster than he is that took me by surprise. #Also his death scene FUCKED severely by far the best scene in the entire game imo. Also I actually enjoyed his story? i cant believe im #saying this but chapter 3 and analogue horror videos actually got me interested in this game's story and where it will go. Insane. #and speaking of the analogue horror videos they made are good. WAY too good. I dont trust like that. They for sure hired somebody to make #them for them theres no way in hell they didnt. But yeah thats my opinion on this series. Over all not a good game and a complete cash grab #dont buy it there are way better games out there even in the mascot horror genere. But the quality did go up and it gets me hopeful #anyway my impromtu poopy playtime review's over

[supersaiyajopping]

deleted my two paragraph tweet on the subject instead posting it ✌️

#to sum it up: he didn’t even suggest anyone read it. it was just on the floor of his room #second: I just skimmed the first few chapters and it’s nothing out of the ordinary for a horror/gore manga. #it was actually tamer than many others. the age was the only thing ‘shocking’ about it #but overall it’s nowhere near close a f3tish manga or even a decently gorey one #your average shounen jump manga has more s3xualized mnrs in it than this #the kr versions manga and anime are both VERY censored so it does taeyong even matter

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #izutsumi #dunmeshi analysis #dungeon meshi spoilers

[a-b-riddle]

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #angst #angst with a happy ending #john soap mactavish

[orcelito]

me sitting on posting ladue chapter 2 bc im going thru edits for chapter 1

honestly it's kinda amazing how much my writing skills have improved in 2 years

#speculation nation #ladue shit #if u havent read the first chapter in Uh ages it'll be pretty worth rereading after i update it #which u will know when i do that. it will happen About when i post chapter 2. #im not changing the plot but im improving so much of the word choice #and a good amount of sentence structure. & various other grammatical choices #i put the heaviest focus in the intro bc that's what's really important for dragging in new readers #& putting less focus later on. if it's serviceable ive stopped caring lmfao #but changing anything that's Too glaring still. #overall tho it's pretty decent. im just a bit more picky nowadays i guess #& my style Has changed some #im gonna keep a copy of the original version for my own purposes. but what's on ao3 is gonna just be the updated version #ive already updated the tags & summary of the fic. keeping the core of it but Improving it #i guess if u care about knowing the original version of chapter 1 nows the chance to look at it??? idk why you would tho #i care about it as an example of my writing at the time. but that's about it lol #the relative inexperience is obvious to me. and so. i am improving it. #tired tho... i gotta hurry up lmao if i wanna post this b4 going to bed. Ugh

[poeticmystery]

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)

summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.

w.c. : 1,023

a/n : this is the first part of what's gonna be a full book! i'm going to post it on wattpad as soon as i write the second chapter! wattpad: poet1cmystery

warning(s) : none!

| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 2 |

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the last thing percy remembered was the feeling of blood rushing to his head, then darkness. 

now he was lying on a small cot, one of the few empty ones in the infirmary. a thin blanket covered him, one that, no doubt, rested on top of many other wounded half-bloods. the air was brisk, despite the barrier keeping out most of the heavy forms of weather. he moved his hands up to grab the top of the blanket, causing a tingling sensation to run to the tips of his fingers. 

his movement stopped, and his limbs felt normal again after the moment of stillness. confusion ebbed his mind, questions of how long he was out, and what had even happened. those thoughts couldn’t last for long, as he soon heard a girl’s voice exclaim something close to, “you’re finally awake.” 

he nodded, clearing his throat to try to get some of the patchiness away. the boy spoke up, his voice scratchy and still slightly covered in a viel of sleepiness. 

“do you have any water, or something?” he asked, glancing around at the table beside the bed. the only thing sitting on it was a book. he couldn’t quite decipher the words, the letters scrambling and jumbling into words he knew didn’t exist. 

“oh, yeah, let me fetch that. is there anything else?” the girl’s voice was sweet.. her face was completely lost on percy, surprising him with even more confusion. 

“uh, no,” he grunted out, just wanting to fall asleep again. his tone wasn’t rude to her, just overall a tired voice. 

the next he knew, the girl was out of the room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. 

his head fell against the pillow beneath it, the plushness doing nothing to support it. despite his still almost-asleep state of mind, he couldn’t help but be enthralled by the girl. 

soon enough, her smiling face returned to the small room. she came holding a decently sized metal water bottle, along with a small, clear bag of blue candies. "i heard from somebody that you liked these, so i thought i’d grab some, but it’s alright if you aren’t hungry. you just woke up, so no worries,” she assured, placing the items on the wooden table. 

she looked over the boy’s body for a minute, gently peeling back the thin covering to show his bare torso. the wounds that had been littering it just a few hours before were almost completely erased at this point, thanks to the magical properties of ambrosia. She hummed in satisfaction, folding the blanket back over him and taking a step back. 

percy just let her do what she needed to– it wasn’t his first time in the infirmirary, and definitely not his last. even though he had just been knocked out for almost the whole day, he was feeling almost fine. he reached up, his muscles feeling loose from the stillness they had been in. his hand wrapped around the bottle the girl had filled with water for him, bringing the small spout to his lips. to him, the bottle was filled with liquid gold. 

he gulped it down thirstily, quickly finishing it with a sheepish look on his face. the girl across from him didn’t seem to notice, her head buried in paperwork sitting on a clipboard. “hey, what’s your name? i haven’t seen you around.” he didn’t want to interrupt her, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

“y/n. y/n y/l/n,” she answered, looking up from the sheet she was working on. a small smile persisted on her face, just as it had for the entirety of their short interaction that day. 

he noticed that it never left, just merely grew or shrunk. 

like a ray of sunshine, he thought. 

“i like that,” percy admitted, “it suits you, y’know? like, you definitely look like a y/n.”

“well, thank you? i think?” she laughed out, quickly gauging percy’s personality. He just nodded in response, then looked down at his hands, playing mindlessly with the loose thread of the old blanket.

she turned over the paper on the clipboard before sliding it under her arm the wood feeling smooth against her skin. she clapped her hands together, “well, physically, you look great. you can leave whenever you feel good enough to,” she stated, assuming the boy still felt decently tired. 

once again, percy’s only response was a nod, causing the y/n to just stand there, and awkward silence falling over them. 

“well…” the girl trailed off, “i’m gonna go, maybe i’ll see you around.” she added the last bit after, her smile widening. she looked to him for a reaction. he smiled back at her. she took that as a signal to leave, making percy suddenly wish he had asked her to stay longer. he could smell the scent of her perfume as it wanted over him, enveloping him with the fragrance. 

he watched as she passed by the open doorway a couple times, likely attending to other sick or wounded half-bloods. he was never too close with anyone from the apollo cabin, but suddenly he felt himself taking an interest in the group of teens. he was well aware that the conversations with y/n had only lasted mere minutes, but felt a connection with her on some level. he didn’t know why or how, but he did. 

he shortly felt himself growing tired again, a sudden shine of the sun washing over him as it set into the evening. it warmed him enough for him to discard the thin blanket atop his body. the fabric fell to the floor, he’d pick it up later. the boy turned away from the sun, feeling its’ heat against his bare back, causing a smile to grace his pink lips. he tucked his arms under the pillow he was lying on, adding more support beneath his head, letting him drift into a comfortable sleep. 

taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, message me or leave it here to be added!

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson blurbs #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson imagines #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

[catmiration]

hello gorgeous, i hope you had a great day today!! if not, then i hope tomorrow works out better for you!! ☺️☺️

hello anon! today was a looong day. but i got (another) new workout fit & i bought some knitting needles for funsies and I've taught myself how to use them. i have crocheted since I learned at like,, 7? and recently got into it again & have a couple wips but now I'm knitting too >:)

#i had a really nice work out today too #i also invested on a few resistance bands to go w my lil dumbbells for when i finish cardio & move on to strength #and it just felt real nice #my throat hurts a lil tho cause i read 7 chapters / 80-smth pages of a ya book out loud today #oh also my gremlin of a kitten got neutered today! which is why my day's been long. bc i had to get up at like 6:30 to have him ready and #at the vet by 8 this morning. and i got like 5 hours of sleep at the max #overall decent day though #anon

[tripleyeeet]

I CARE FOR YOU (6)

SUMMARY: After an unexpected moment of intimacy, you admit your growing feelings for Astarion.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,768

WARNINGS: Fluff, cheesy gross rotten fluff filled with more realized feelings.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I can't tell whether or not I hate this chapter so uh, please be nice to me. I'm very tired and just :')

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

You’ve been drinking for a while now. Sharing a bottle of ale Astarion had nicked off a merchant outside the myconid colony. While speaking to her about the issue of her missing husband, he somehow managed to snag it unseen, along with a couple of potions and some coins that he shared with you.

At first, you were surprised. Sure, you and Astarion had become increasingly close over the last few days, spending practically all hours conversating or plotting —overall just enjoying each other’s company. But he’d always been firm about earning your keep. Typically for him, what you earned was solely yours alone and vice versa but when you asked him about the merchant theft he just smiled and pinched your cheek, thanking you for the distraction. 

It made you blush —uncontrollably so. The feeling of his fingers taught against your skin before their disappearance. As you moved alongside him, making your way back to camp, you had to compose the need to squeal, feeling your stomach flip while your heart wreaked havoc against your chest. 

Now that you were drunk such feelings had subdued. Lost to the clouded headspace of inebriation that has you lazily staring at the fire, a small grin plastered across your face as you continue to drink. 

Against your tongue, it feels warm and bitter, forcing you to smack your lips in slight disgust every time you swallow it down. “Gods, this is rancid,” you say, and Astarion nods, reaching for the bottle. 

He tips his head back to let it cascade down, cringing ever so slightly. “I swear I haven’t had a decent drink in months,” he complains, passing it back —letting the tips of his fingers brush against the base of your knuckles in the process.

You roll your eyes, feeling that nervous jump of nerves hit your stomach before shaking your head. “That tends to happen when you’re camping beneath the surface.” 

“It was shit before then too, I’m afraid,” he sighs. “Even at that grove party they were basically serving up bottled piss.”

“At least it was free.” 

He shrugs knowingly, agreeing as he watches you take another sip; scrunching up your face in disgust. It’s not good by any means but it’s the first drink you’ve had in days —and again it’s free— so you try not to complain too much. 

“I miss wine.” Snatching the bottle back, he takes another sip and groans, immediately giving it back. “Good wine.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had good wine.”

Immediately, he looks at you like you’ve just slain his mother. His eyes are wide and full of pain before they narrow to a point, prompting him to lean in close, peeling the bottle from your hands. “I’m sorry, what do you mean you’ve never had good wine?”

You shrug, reaching for the bottle only to have him raise it into the air, gripping the neck tightly. “Hey!”

“You grew up in Baldur’s, did you not?”

Ignoring his question, you roll onto your knees, placing a hand on his shoulder as you reach for the drink, groaning when he raises it out of reach again. 

“What’s the best wine you’ve had?”

You grumpily move in closer, maneuvering one of your knees to rest between his outstretched legs, feeling his arm snake around your waist when you inevitably stumble from the alcohol. Audibly you gasp and look down at him, watching his lips twitch into a smirk. 

“Give the bottle back, you ass!” 

His fingers fan across the fabric of your shirt, applying a bit of extra pressure that has you fighting. Resisting the urge to give in as he pouts at your words. 

“Ass? And here I thought you and I were starting to become friends.” 

That feeling from earlier returns. The one where your stomach tangles up and your chest begins to ache, longing for something you know you shouldn’t even think to entertain. “We are friends.” 

His brow shoots up. “Are we?”

Despite the constant attention you’ve been offering one another, you realize then that you’ve never actually discussed what the two of you are. How he makes you feel happy and loved and, above all else, safe. On more than one occasion you’ve thought about letting it slip. During the night when you wake up from your nightmares only to find him already lying next to you, you’ve thought about opening up.

It’d be hard. Seeing as neither of you is the type to fully express how you feel, the idea of verbally admitting that you care for him far more than you should could be detrimental. The kind of conversation that could potentially ruin everything you have going, knowing that he’s…

Well, he’s him. He’s guarded and cautious and deceptive. A man so unwilling to trust that even the simplest of gestures have you questioning his intentions. Wondering whether or not the side of him you get to see is truly real or not. 

You assume in some cases it is. Mostly because no one else has offered you that kind of courtesy. The others are nice. They care for you in their own little ways but something about Astarion’s kindness is different. More developed. It isn’t surface level in the way that Shadowheart heals you after a tough battle or how Lae’zel offers to help you cut vegetables at dinner. There’s something else that lingers. Something warm and tender that makes your ever-growing feelings fight through the ongoing suppression of your mind. 

A suppression that dwindles the longer you look at him —the longer you kneel, half straddling his thigh while your hands sit awkwardly in the air, begging to be touched. 

“I mean, acquaintances don’t do the things we do for each other.” 

You see his throat bob as he swallows. “And what sort of things do we do for each other, hm?”

His voice, despite sounding as confident as it usually does, feels different. Instead of teasing, there’s a genuine curiosity that forms, hanging onto every breath that filters through your lungs.

“Nice things.”

He scoffs. “Care to provide some examples, my dear?”

Instead of responding, you let your hands fall to his shoulders, feeling the sudden tenseness underneath your fingertips as you slide them up toward his neck and move forward. After that, there are still no words that are spoken. Only breaths that catch in your respective throats as Astarion’s thigh shifts towards the innermost parts of yours, pushing against you gently. 

Pressing your lips together, you ignore the feeling that presents itself when he does that, focusing on his face. On the way, his mouth opens up with bated breath —the way his eyes soften and his other hand drops the ale and moves throughout your vision to place an even softer touch against your cheek. 

Without even thinking you return his gesture from the other night, letting your lips press against his thumb as you close your eyes, realizing you want this. Whatever it is that he’s willing to offer. Whether it’s strictly friendship or more or even something in between. At this point, he could offer you the dirt beneath his feet and you’d take it. Bottle it up as a reminder of all that he’s done for you. All the words he’s said to make you laugh. All the hands he’s held to calm you down during your most anxious moments.

He could take and take and give absolutely nothing in return and you’d accept it with open arms if it meant you could stay like this. If it meant you could feel the brush of his thumb gliding back to cup your head and pull you down. 

“I know you’re not the most articulate friend I have but I’d still appreciate a bit more effort.” 

The sudden presence of his breath makes you open your eyes. Your foreheads are practically touching and by now your arms have fully tightened around his neck, further supporting your hold. 

“I don’t know. I, uh, I suppose you care.”

“Do I now?”

“I think so.” 

He hums. “What makes you say that?”

You purse lips, trying to wrap your head around the closeness of it all. The intimate touches mixed with the potential confession rising up your throat. “You do things that the others don’t.”

The hand that rests against the back of your head runs through the roots of your hair, gripping them slightly as he laughs. “You really are bad at elaborating, aren’t you, darling?” 

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin; not surprised that even in moments like this he still manages to withstand his arrogance. “I just mean that it feels like you actually care about me as a person rather than just another helping sword in a war.” 

When he doesn’t respond right away you’re worried you’ve lost him. That you’ve scared him off somehow. Sometimes that happens when you’re in the middle of a conversation. Everything will be normal and somehow you’ll manage to fuck it up by asking something too personal, causing his retreat. 

It hasn’t happened in a while. Not since that night, he held you in your tent but you still assume it’s coming based on the way his gaze shifts, moving from place to place —completely avoiding your eyes. Usually, that’s the first step when he separates. Either he’ll look away or his eyes will go out of focus, leaving you by yourself to wonder how to fix it. 

Reluctantly you slip from his grasp, releasing his neck with shaky hands, feeling the way he tightens up but makes no effort to stop you.

“Sorry, I, uh, I know you’ve got your own… stuff going on.” You clear your throat, relaxing your hips against his thigh before you remember that you’re trying to give him space, prompting you to sit back up again. “Wouldn’t want to complicate that or anything.”

After that, there’s a nervous laugh that escapes your lips when you attempt to crawl off of him. One that grows the second the hand he still has on your back moves to grip your hip, pulling you back down with a rough tug. It forces the breath right out of you. Ripping through your lungs, it feels like instead of blood, Astarion’s taking your air, forcing your mouth to open in such a desperate way you almost whine out loud. 

“I do care —for what it’s worth. Despite the complications.” 

He says it so quietly you barely hear it against the crackling of the ongoing fire and the echoes of the Underdark. As it hits your ears, it sounds like the faintest whisper ever uttered. A quiet secret so safely tucked away that even the mention of its mere existence has you reaching for his face, cupping his cheeks with careful hands that wish to make sure he’s okay.

“You make me feel…” He trails off, letting out a frustrated sigh while closing his eyes. 

You can tell then that he’s fighting the barrier. Allowing its presence to overthrow his thoughts, fearing what might happen if he’s honest. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him it’s okay —that anything he says will be cherished not exploited. Appreciated to the highest degree possible. But then there’s the other part. The one that knows that what you say doesn’t matter. That in the grand scheme of things, words are merely facades we tell each other to hide the truth. 

You want to tell him the truth. More than anything you want to utter every hidden admiration over and over again until he believes you. Until he’s forced to hear the cadence in your voice breaking at the realization he believes that he’s untouchable. 

“I care for you, Astarion.” 

The words come out more broken than you intend. As it exits your lips, it’s coarse against your ears, making you internally cringe and close your eyes, taking a moment to breathe because you finally did it. You finally said something.

All you receive from it is a hum of acknowledgement. One that fails to give you any sort of relief. 

At first, it shakes you. Makes you regret even thinking you could earn anything other than a snide remark. But then you open your eyes. And you see him. The way he’s staring at you with confused eyes and open lips, begging you for more. 

“I don’t know what it all means yet. I just —I just wanted you to know that your friendship means more to me than you know.” You glide both thumbs across his cheeks, feeling the coolness of his skin wrap around the warmth of your own. “I know I don’t know a lot about your past. I don’t know how or what level it’s affected how you perceive your self-worth but I know you now. And I know that regardless of the shit you went through whether it was of your will or otherwise, that you deserve to be cared for.” 

That you deserve to be loved. 

By the time you’re done, you’re weightless. A feather of freedom dancing in the wind as it awaits its downfall. 

Glancing between Astarion and the space behind him, you find there’s no regret in what you’ve just said. No fear of rejection. No shame for admittance. All that’s left is the feeling of relief. One that grows once you hear him clear his throat and pull you close, moving his forehead to yours. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says, but that doesn’t stop the smile that pulls at your cheeks. 

“It’s okay. Neither do I.”

“I don’t know how to be what you want.” 

You inhale heavily, looking down to see the worry grace his face. “Do you even know what I want?” 

He opens his mouth but quickly stops, making you laugh. 

“I want you, Astarion. That’s it. Whether it’s you at your best or you at your worst, I just want you.”

“Me.” He repeats it as a statement. As an affirmation that makes your stomach flip. 

“I know you’re difficult to deal with. You’re stubborn and unforgiving and crass but I’m also incredibly patient.” You squeeze his cheeks, uttering patient through clenched teeth that make him snort. 

“I’d argue that most of the time you’re not but—“

You shush him, earning yourself an eye roll. “I’ll wait for you. With you. If that’s what you want.”

And you do. Pressing yourself further into him, you breathe and wait, letting him piece together all the words you’ve just displayed. Letting him sit and process the weight of them all in the form of nervous fingers that tap your hips before they slowly begin to slide. 

By the time they hit the centre of your back, he’s releasing his hold with one and snaking it beneath your outstretched arm to grab your face. 

“Can I share something? With you?”

You nod your head and feel him pull you down, immediately slotting his lips over yours in a way you’ve never felt before.

Somehow it’s soft while still remaining hungry. Deep beneath the careful movements he inflicts, there’s a desperation that has both of you moving your arms to further wrap around the other, forcing your chests flush. Against your mouth, he breathes new life into your soul —ripping the old away as he nibbles the edge of your bottom lip, eliciting a moan that makes him grin. 

“You taste better than I remember.”

Silencing him with another kiss, you move your hands to his hair, running your fingers along his scalp, feeling the way he shudders beneath your touch before pulling away. 

Both of you are gasping for air then. Staring at one another with blown-out pupils that make you look away in embarrassment. 

You’re not sure how to feel now. Before it was easy to pine —to think about the potentials and long for something more because it wasn’t real. It was merely a desire fuelled by curiosity so now that you have it, you have no idea what happens next. 

“We should probably talk, right? About things?” 

You can’t help but brush his curls from his face as he nods, giving you a knowing look that has you feeling worried he still might backtrack. “Things, as in?”

“The past. Both of ours. When you’re ready.”

Despite the reluctance you feel radiating off of him, there’s also a sliver of acceptance. An inkling of something new and warm that filters through as he nods his head, uttering a thank you before pulling you back in again. 

-

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[popamolly]

‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder

author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!

In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.

Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.

Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.

In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.

As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.

That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.

“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”

“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”

“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.

You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”

“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.

“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”

With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”

You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”

“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”

What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”

Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.

“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”

“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”

It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.

“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”

“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”

“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.

“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”

“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”

“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”

“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”

“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”

“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”

Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’

Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?

“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”

And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.

You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.

“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”

“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”

The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.

Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.

“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”

The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.

“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”

“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.

“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.

“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.

The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”

“600!” Another shouts.

“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”

Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”

“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.

“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”

Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”

“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”

“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.

The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”

Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

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