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#i was fascinated through this whole thing
chronicowboy · 3 days
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Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.
Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.
It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.
It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.
"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.
"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.
"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.
"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.
"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"
"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.
"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"
"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.
"You just thought..."
"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."
"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.
"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."
"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.
It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.
Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.
Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.
"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."
"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.
And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.
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senualothbrok · 3 days
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Helloooo!
Quick question: do you think Gale has always been a sex god (just as he’s innately good at magic) or do you think he acquired his legendary skills over time?
Hello friend! <3 I have thought about this a fair bit (in fact there is a scene in Promise where Aurora asks Gale the exact same thing). It's a great question because when it comes to romance/sex, Gale presents as a fascinating combination of a flustered bashful dork, who awkwardly withdraws the first time you express interest in him, and an absolute rizzard who is not coy about his desires, seduces you with the Faerunite version of the kama sutra, and takes you on an astral gang bang on your first date (if you choose to go astral rather than 'old ways' in Act 2). Gale may have a predisposition to being a beast in bed - in the sense that he is a thoughtful, generous person, who throws himself wholeheartedly into everything he does, and gives his whole self to the people he loves. Physical attributes aside (length/girth/stamina, and all the rest), those qualities are what makes someone a good lover - the sensitivity to what gives your lover pleasure, the drive to learn and improve in skill and attunement. Putting someone else's needs above your own. Gale definitely has a tendency towards these things within his character (sometimes to his own detriment). You've made a comparison with Gale's innate mastery of the Weave, which I think is apt here. I agree with the theory that Gale was born a sorcerer (able to channel the Weave a babe/child without training), but he is a wizard - it is in his nature to want to study and learn and perfect his skills. He is ever curious and enthusiastic about accumulating new knowledge. I think of Gale's sexual prowess in the same way. Gale tells the player character that he had mortal lovers before Mystra. We know that Mystra took Gale as a lover at a relatively young age, though we don't quite how young (I'm going to assume that he was old enough to consent, because I can't quite bear the alternative at the moment). I believe that as a young man, Gale accumulated sexual experiences, and came to understand his own sexual preferences as well. I'm sure, like most youths, there was a fair amount of trial and error. He is 35 when the player character meets him, and he is not green behind the ears in this area. He is not coy, he knows himself and what he wants. That requires experience, mistakes, learning. He studied and practised the skills of love and sex. He is able to make you feel sensations beyond imagining. He has a "practised tongue". So on and so forth. I don't think Gale was a blushing virgin when Mystra took him into her bed. Mystra isn't the sum of his experiences of sex and romance, although I do believe that, before the player character, she casts a dominating shadow over them. Mystra, obviously, would have been a demanding lover, and he would have learned how to please her. I think the more incorporeal, Weave-inspired modes of pleasure that Gale is able to channel were probably refined through his time with Mystra. (As an aside, I have no doubt that whatever scraps of affection and pleasure Mystra gave him were ultimately unsatisfying, because he was never her equal, and she never really cared about his needs and wants. Gale is obviously still coming to terms with the nature of their relationship and has limited insight when he speaks about his time with Mystra.) So, all in all, I think Gale probably started off with the fundamental traits of a good lover, and refined his legendary skills over time. <3
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shapard · 10 hours
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hihii! I was wondering if I could request a Lucifer x fem!reader, where the reader was a nun in her life and still is kinda one in hell but dedicates herself to lucifer yk what I mean? :3 I’m sorry if this isn’t really in detail!
Demons
Lucifer x Sinner!Nun!femreader
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A/n: Heyy! I hope this meets your expectations!
Soft Lucifer, Social awkward Lucifer, Nun reader
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Part 1 < Part 2
You hate it here. 
Hell was full of sinners and Demons. The ground is covered in crimson blood. The blood bleeds into your clothes, leaving the white in pure red.
Violence was the only way Sinners communicate. 
You were mad at the Lord themself. You prayed each day and night. Always followed the rules and gave up every rich thing in your life. All to serve the father.
Many people thought you were too young to pursue this path but to you it was a blessing itself. 
One day, the worst and best thing that ever happened to you. You saved a life and you died instead. 
You waited and waited for the light of Jesus and God. So that they can take you in their hands and lift you to paradise. Yet after all you've done, you were falling.
The void of pure darkness ate you and threw you down to the most feared place. Hell.
The compact on thee ground hurt as if you died again. The force knocked you completely out. Luck was on your side and gifted you a home. At home two demons were leaving and let you stay in their old house.
You'll never forget them.
One day you took a walk in a different area, trying to find a loophole anywhere. Just one sign to get to those purely gates. To your dismay, nothing.
Instead of worrying too much you went to a hell’s Library. Reading through every book to get Information about this place. 
The Lore of Lucifer is very Interesting.
The father’s Favorite banished from heaven because of the Forbidden Apple. As you kept reading the more it Fascinated you. 
Why did Lucifer give Eve the Apple? 
How is Heaven? 
The more you found out about the king of hell the more obsessed you got.
Who exactly is Lucifer Morningstar? The Lord you served so long for let you down so easily, but would Lucifer? Too many questions spiraled in your head, it started to pound in pain.
The library was closing soon, so you stuffed the books into your rucksack and left the place in a fast pace. 
The book may not give you the answers you need but Lucifer could. Without wasting any seconds, you wander around the so-called pride ring in Hell. 
It seems there are 7 rings like the 7 sins. One of them being Lucifer. The fun part you learned is that the appearance in hell has something to do with the way you die.
Your appearance resembled a black cat hybrid, you mainly looked humane just with some extras. A pair of cat ears, claws and a tail that swayed behind you.
Finally, after headaches, Mental Breakdowns, and research you got an idea how to get Lucifers attention.
Praying. A very simple yet tiring process. After weeks of preparation you got everything that you needed. Your body shook under fear as you lit up the candles.
You don't feel that confident anymore. Praying to God is something different. They were pure and was the creator of everything. But Lucifer was the pure evil. The complete opposite.
You were in the center of a pentagram that was drawn with your and a goat’s blood. The flames around you were so hot you thought you were in the middle of a fire. 
With a shaky breath you closed your eyes and sat down on your calves. Another deep breath and you began your prayer. 
When you were finished the candles were burned out but nothing besides the wax that coated the floor.
With a sigh you rubbed your hands on your face. The whole procedure was for nothing.
Exhausted you took the candles and threw it in the dustbin. “Was worth a shot.” You said disappointed as you sat on a very old bed. A loud crash sends you out of your little sweet daydream about kittens. You jumped up and grabbed the next object, a Fan.
Curse words echoed through your Livingroom. “Who’s there?” You shouted as you switched the lights on. A short figure with a huge hat came in the view.
“Fuck! eh... Sorry for the mess.” Confused at his words you looked around seeing your Livingroom really a complete mess. Nothing was at its usual place.
The guy watched as your jaw dropped a bit. “What in the name of Jesus did you do?!” He smirked up to you and you raised the fan above your head. “Why do you have a fan in your hand?” He asked pointing with his clawed finger at your fan. “Because of people that break into private homes, like you!” With a snap of his fingers the fan in your hand vanished into small sparkles. 
“Technically I didn’t break into your house.” The stranger said as he swung his cane around. You raised your eyebrow at him, “You obviously did.” What the hell is with those sinners.
He sighs in frustration and leans onto his cane, “Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Lucifer Morningstar. The devil you summoned.” His sharp red eyes focused on your e/c ones and his Pupils dilated a bit. The more you two looked in the eyes the hotter and thicker the tension got. 
“You’re Lucifer.” You fast to break the thick ice. You don’t want to focus about the growing desire for the Archangel in front of you. Lucifer smirk grew only more. You didn’t think this was even possible. “Yes, the one and only.” He winked and a shiver went down your spine.
“of course.” As the sin of pride, he’s doing a great job so far. 
“For what do you need me, darling?” Lucifer asked and you immediately asked him the question that is burning your mind. “I have Question my Lord.” Pink hue glazed Lucifer's face as you said my lord. “Ehm,” He grabbed his collar and pulled it with his claw, “Of course darling… We- I mean I have too much… No, fuck- I have a lot of time reserved for you! Hehehe.” Lucifers sudden overtalking caught you surprised. 
The King of hell, Lucifer Morningstar gets nervous when you call him My Lord. 
“Okay first my most Important question. How do I get in heaven? I don’t know what I have done in my life to end up here.” Lucifer raised sassy his eyebrow giving you a side eye. “Darling. You’re in hell and there is no ticket up. Believe me.” He tapped with his cane on the floor, “There’s no way.��� He pressed again. 
But you don’t give up. 
“Then give me a meeting. I can prove that I’m innocent. I was a nun almost my whole life and I died saving someone’s life.” Lucifer’s laugh was ego scratching and you glared at him. “I could get you the meeting sweetheart, yet it wouldn’t change anything. But in exchange you have to do something for me."
“What?” You asked as Lucifer stepped in front of you, his face so close that it’s brushing your face. He breathed in and you smelled so divine. “only time will tell.” And just like that he disappeared. Confused you looked around. 
“That was weird…” 
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A/n: I'm ALIVE!! Anyways Part 2 will be out soon<3
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axelsagewrites · 3 days
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Hello,
Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.
Ivar the Boneless*Shy
Pairing: Ivar x f!reader
Word count: 2081
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Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff
Masterlist here
As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.
It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.
Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.
You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.
“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.
Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”
Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.
“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.
“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”
Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.
“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.
“What are you doing?”
“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.
“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”
“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.
For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.
“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.
“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.
“Shut up,” he grumbled.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Are you gonna marry her?”
“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”
“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.
“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”
“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.
“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”
“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.
 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.
-
The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.
“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”
-
Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.
He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.
Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.
Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”
With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.
-
You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.
“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.
He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”
“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.
None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.
“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”
“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”
“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.
-
While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.
“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.
Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.
“How have you been- “
“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”
A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.
“And now?”
You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.
“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”
Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”
“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.
“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”
He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”
“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.
-
For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.
You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.
“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”
“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.
“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,”
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ratgrinders · 16 hours
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hello tumblr user ratgrinders... appreciate the work you do even in these trying times (post onscreen homicide). i think the fact that kipperlilly is like, annoying and reminds people of girls they didnt like in high school ppl miss out on a lot of interesting stuff going on w her!
like, the "power hungry teen girl who is just evil and tbk kill her" thing has already been done in fhfy with penelope, & its much more interesting to think about how & why the ratgrinders are doing all this suspicious stuff tbk are noticing-- like the fact that they have been very cagey about showing their combat abilities, the weird stuff going on with various deities, and even kipperlilly's stolen therapy files (lol) are very intriguing!! and imo writing that off as assuming they'll be straightforward, incompetent villians (popular assumption due to their lack of friendship, even though it's famously the weakest magic) is far less interesting. like... they got into this situation for a reason and got involved w all this stuff somehow, & i don't think all of this would happen if they were a normal adv party, even a shitty one. how did they get here! why!! thx
thank you so much, its getting hard out here but nothing can stop the rat grinders stan grind!!!!! (<- is coping. im coping)
yeah but fr, kipperlily is FASCINATING to me. i truly believe that she thinks everything she does is justified in service of her larger goal, whatever that may be. yeah, stone cold murder really isn't the fairest thing you can do to your academic rivals, but writing all of that off as "oh she's just always been a jealous hypocrite who never believed in what she was spouting" i think is an inaccurate interpretation of her own motivations. she clearly believes in something.
cuz the thing is, we're still not really sure was kipperlily wants? ("egg on my face for wanting something"). sure, she's trying to run for student body president, but what exact rules is she hoping to implement, and how does that relate to trying to resurrect a rage god? plus, grix attacked ruben because he/his ritual were a direct threat to the existence of the school, which seems counter productive if you're trying to become president of it.
and what cause would kipperlily specifically have to be tied up with a rage god anyway? there's nothing that clearly on the surface ties a little type A halfling rogue to a fiendish god of rage and conquest, hell some of the other members in her party seem like on the surface they would have a closer tie to it (like both of their now dead clerics, mary ann who literally harnesses rage, ruben who is full of teen angst). kipperlily's apparently been filled with rage since freshman year, but why? (is she like riz, who spent his whole life infected with an aspect of the nightmare king and literally grew up with this seed of doubt inside him? did something similar happen to kipperlily?)
ankarna is the goddess of justice and the conviction to act when they see something unfair. no matter what, i think kipperlily truly believes that she's witnessed something unfair. and it feels significant to mention that this last murder is an escalation on the rat grinders' part. the other people who have ended up dead around them (lucy, yolanda, the original hosts of frosty faire) all seemed to have died indirectly as a result of the rage crystals and the uncontrollable rage it inspires. this is the first time we're seen stone cold premeditated murder, done with simply a blade and betrayal.
honestly, this transition seems to mirror what ankarna herself went through, starting off as the goddess of conviction and justice but slowly transitioning to one of conquest and war. brennan said something about ankarna, "yeah its nice to have someone like that on your side who will stand up for you, but you better hope that person is always right". i think what we're seeing now is someone with that same conviction, but with a misguided cause.
kipperlily's crossed a line now and i wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't end up redeemed by the end of the season, but i'm still interested in how she and her party were motivated to do this in the first place, because like you said i don't think a normal adventuring party would've ended up here. it takes a lot to transition to multiple murders!
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t-art-c · 15 hours
Text
"This is not love, Scaramouche..."
CW: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Human Trafficking, Manhandling, Self-deprecation, Toxic Cycle, Implied Stalking, and Gaslighting
A/N: GUYS!! Just to remind that I do not condone the actions I write for my yandere oneshots. This is only explorations of how abuse or toxicity affects a person. There may be inaccuracies, but I always try to make it as accurate as possible and always give respect, especially towards victims.
-----
The words you uttered did nothing but make your husband rage. His eyes turned sharper, and his scowl even deeper. He tightened his grip over the whip he has been using to punish you yet again over something menial.
He would always say that it may be menial to you but it is detrimental to him. As the spouse of the Balladeer, Scaramouche, every action you make will be reflected to him. So, every action you do that is not to his taste meant that he married a slob, a whore and every insult under the Sun.
There was this one time when the Jester visited Scaramouche's manor. Your husband was not home at that moment so you decided to be proper host and offer tea to the harbinger.
The Jester had an overwhelming presence that made you shake. So when you were pouring him tea, you have accidentally spilled some over his white coat. With terrified eyes, you bowed your head to the ground and begged for your life.
Fortunately, he spared you and told you that he will have it washed when he leaves. Unfortunately, your husband witnessed the whole thing. He pulled you into an empty room and berated you over how you embarrassed him with your actions.
For the second time of that day, you apologized with your head down and just took all the insults he threw at you.
After taking all the abuse for years, you have finally had enough. You do not even care what would happen to you when you confront him.
Death?
Yes, you had nothing to lose anymore when all he ever did was take everything from you.
"What would you even know about love?"
He went there. In all honestly, you should not have been this surprised, but you can always count on your husband to know how to hurt you.
"More than you ever will..."
Saying it felt freeing. There is not an ounce of fear in your body, not even anger. You felt happy. Without raising your head, you know that he shaking in anger, maybe even grinding his teeth.
A few seconds pass, but nothing happened. There was only an uncomfortable silence surrounding the both of you.
"You do, don't you?"
He walked closer and made you look at him in the eyes.
"But that's what I love about you."
He slapped you hard to the point you fell to your side. The wounds you have gotten prior from his previous punishment throbbed and started bleeding again.
Tears started to form from the corner of your eyes. You held the cheek he slapped and smiled bitterly.
"As I said again, this putrid thing you force on me will never be love."
You stood up from the ground and stared at your husband.
"Every single day, I have to tell myself that what we have is just something other couples go through. But I know deep down, it's wrong, and abnormal."
You walked closer to him and softly held his hands.
"What did I do to deserve this?"
Scaramouche's face softened. He tenderly held your bruised cheek and placed a kiss on it.
"You deserve everything. My love, my wrath, my loneliness, my happiness, every single one of it."
-----
Love truly is a fascinating thing.
How cruel of your husband to choose you to be the receiver of his putrid love. A man who will forever stay young while you grow older and inevitably leave him all alone again.
Maybe, that is why he shows you all of himself. He knows that one day you will not be there by his side to give him comfort. Even if the comfort he feels from you might be just like warmth from an already extinguished bonfire.
You did love this awful husband of yours once upon a time. But now, you do not know what to feel for him. Anger? Sadness? Regret for even meeting him one faithful day?
In a rare occasion where he will allow you to explore the outside world again with him by your side, you have always thought of running away. It will be futile as he is much more stronger and faster than you could ever be. But if you do hypothetically escape, where will you go?
You were a nobody, prior your life with Scaramouche. Not even one person ever knew of your existence. Just some orphan who was able to survive the unforgiving world by stealing from other people. That is until you messed with the wrong person and was taken to a human trafficking ring.
Other orphans like you from the ring had their names taken away. Nobodies who did not bother to care for each other, because caring for someone in a dangerous place meant weakness that can be taken advantage of.
When The Balladeer suddenly visited the ring, you were ecstatic.
Finally, there might be a chance for freedom for you from this wretched place. Finally, a place far better than this one.
You did everything you could to make him notice you. Made yourself look pitiful in hopes that he would glance and choose you.
But, he never did. Instead he chose a young boy from beside you.
"I'll take this one. And make it quick."
"Certainly, my Lord!"
It did not work. Of course, it would not work. Who in their right mind would choose someone as weak as you. The Balladeer probably already have a specific person in his mind.
You were not able to stop the tears from coming out your eyes.
It was probably the most pathetic you have ever felt. Not even once have you cried when you were beaten and starved by your captors. But you just know yourself that you will never be able to escape this place.
This place will be your resting place.
"Hm... I'll take this one too."
In your self-wallowing, you did not even notice that the Balladeer is standing right in front of your cage. Only then you noticed when you were roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged away by his men.
The boy he picked was nowhere to be seen.
In your shock, you can not even verbalize how thankful you are of him. So, you just cried again.
"Again with the crying. I order you to stop that or I'll be sending you back in that hellhole."
You dried your eyes quickly from his threat, in fear that he will make true of his promise. However, the dirt from the shirt you have been wearing since you were taken stung your eyes, which caused you to tear up more.
"Tch. You can't even follow orders properly."
You started to tremble from the glare he sent your way.
"I apologize, my Lord! T-the dirt from my shirt just stung my eyes that's all. I hope you can forgive my mistake!"
Just before he says something, you have arrived at a wooden carriage. Inside, you can see the boy from before curled at the furthest corner. The man gripping your arm let go of it and ordered you to get in.
After that initial interaction with the Balladeer, you have seen him until a year later.
-----
You loved Scaramouche with all your heart. He is probably the only person your heart will ever know to love. Even after everything, your husband will always be the one you adore.
The pathetic, worthless you who will always crawl back to him after every punishment. Seeking his love and forgiveness.
After all, who else would be able to withstand his overbearing, opressive love?
"I will always love you..."
The way you said it was bitter, but accepting.
Your husband only stared as he pulled your head to lay on his shoulder. The scent of his sakura cologne filling your senses. He held you tight as if he was afraid to lose you.
"You know I will never leave you..."
You hugged him as you contemplate about the life you have lived.
"Hm... I will not let you even if you tried."
A laugh went out of your mouth at his response towards you. Your shoulders were shaking as you cried.
-----
It has been a long time since you last saw the Balladeer. It took you some time to fully adapt to your new environment. As a new orphan recruit of the Fatui, you were given a new name by your coworkers.
Pavel.
They told you it meant "small". Which you guess is understandable since you are the shortest of all the recruits. It does not mean you are happy with it.
Work in the Fatui can sometimes be very boring or hectic. It is currently in its hectic stage since you have received news of the Balladeer visiting to check on how things are going.
"Pavel! Can you help me with auditing?"
Lev.
He was the boy you were with when the two of you were bought by the Balladeer. Just like how you were given a nonsensical name, Lev was also a victim of it. Your coworkers said that Lev meant "lion", as they are always reminded of a lion when they see the boy.
Over the course of a year, the two of you have grown closer to the point of seeing each other as family. Although, you two are close, not once have the two of you ever shared about your lives prior the Fatui.
"Alright, which part should I help you with?"
The boy gave you a thankful look. He then handed you another notepad to write into and pointed over a pile of papers on a table not far from him.
"Just those. Don't worry, I already finished most of it. I just want to take a quick break. My head is killing me."
You gave him a pat in the head and let out a sigh.
"Remember to visit the clinic."
He let out a laugh and exited the room.
You proceeded to audit the pile of papers. It was quite peaceful, even if there a bustle of people just outside of the room. Everyone is working hard to await the arrival of their Habinger.
It has been a while since you last saw the Balladeer. No other interactions happened between the two of you after being forced in the carriage.
He probably got his hands full the moment we arrived at Snezhnaya. Even with his youthful face, he is still a cutthroat harbinger.
"To think there's someone lurking in this room"
You jumped from your spot as you heard a voice just behind you. You turned around and saw the person everyone has been preparing for to arrive.
"L-lord Scaramouche!"
You kneeled one leg on the ground as you greeted the Balladeer with respect.
"Rise."
You stood up and maintained yourself to not anger him. Knowing his temperament from what your coworkers have told you, he is not to be messed with.
"What are you currently doing?"
You showed him your notepad.
"I am currently auditing some papers right now, my Lord."
He let out a sound of acknowledgement as he waved his hand.
"Follow me."
Without wasting a second, you walked in front of him and opened the door, then went behind him to follow.
The two of you walked in silence as the people around you stopped what they were doing and kneeled towards their Lord.
"We welcome you, Lord Scaramouche!"
The Balladeer waved his hand and everyone piped down. He spoke of an event that every single Fatui member must attend to. A festival that let those with family to go back home and spend time with them.
Everyone was excited and have started talking amongst themselves after the Balladeer has explained the situation.
The two of you walked back to the room where the two of you met and saw Lev already working on the audit.
"Lord Scaramouche!"
He kneeled and bowed his head.
"Are you the one who was supposed to be auditing?"
The boy gulped from the inquiry.
"Yes, my Lord. I have asked Pavel to cover for me for a while as a I go visit the clinic to get some medications."
The Balladeer glared down at him.
"I order you to never do that again. Do the job given to you, even if you're sick. I don't care what excuses you have."
"A-affirmative, my Lord..."
After all of that, you have never seen Lev again. You were taken by the Balladeer and have started working directly under him.
Your old coworkers who you thought you were close with never interacted with you again. Every time you try to talk to them, they will make an excuse to run away from you.
It made you feel disappointed as you feel alone once again.
-----
"Do you really think my love for you is disgusting?"
Scaramouche's hug constricted you body against him. It is getting more difficult to breathe.
"Yes. It's so disgusting that it makes me want to puke."
Perhaps you have a death wish, but you know yourself that your husband would never let you die until he has his fill of you.
"How brave of you to be truthful to me. But I guess that's what I love about you. Only you will I ever allow to insult me like this."
His grip on you became even more tighter as he place his head on the junction of your neck and shoulder.
A disgusted part of you tells you to push him away, but then there is that lovesick part of you that feels comforted in the pain of his hug. The dichotomy between your emotions leaves you breathless.
He knows how to play with your heart. Maybe he already knew how much he has wrapped you around his finger. He might as well have actually tied invisible strings around your joints like a puppet.
It sometimes makes you feel confused of what you should be even doing. Since everything you have ever done seems to have only inconvenienced him.
"Love is supposed to make me feel safe in your company, Scaramouche. Not once have you ever tried to make me feel safe."
You started to comb his hair with your fingers.
"But for some reason, I feel even more safe knowing that you hurt me. All the insults and the pain you have forsaken me with, I openly accepted"
Scaramouche rubbed your back as he kept his silence.
"We are so different from each other. Yet, we are unfortunately perfect together."
-----
It has been a month since you started working for the Balladeer. He never called you by the name that was given to you by your former coworkers. For some odd reason, he asked for your real name.
"My real name is (Name), my Lord."
It was the name left to you by your mother before abandoning you in the streets as a child. You never had much use of it as nobody would ask a dirty rat like yourself for it.
"(Name)..."
The way the Balladeer whispered your name sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks started to have a rosy hue from how he kept repeating it under his breath.
It made you feel strange as this is not a befitting behavior from a subordinate.
"If you do not mind me asking, my Lord?"
He stared at you
"Speak."
You clasped your hands together as you finally asked your question.
"May I visit a friend of mine for my day off this coming Saturday?"
The air around suddenly became heavy.
"No, you can not. After all, there's nobody waiting for you anymore."
Even in such an icy environment, sweat started to fall from your forehead.
"Pardon?"
The Balladeer let out a chuckle as he placed his cheek in his hand."
"I have eyes everywhere. What do you think happened to him?"
Without even answering him, you bolted out of his office and ran through the cold weather. You were determined to see the answer for yourself and hope to whichever archon is listening to you to this one time to grant you goodwill.
Your lungs started burning from how much you are inhaling the cold air. But it never even made you stop running as you finally reached the apartment complex specifically built for Fatui agents.
Since the you and Lev came together, they made it so to make the two of you roommates. It was a fairly average room for two, but since you two are always at work, it is kept quite boring. Only Lev's action figures are strewn over the place.
You opened the door with the key you have kept in your person.
"LEV?!"
There was no reply to your call. Only silence and an equally empty room with no warmth. Lev's action figures were nowhere to be seen.
"I guess no one's home."
Is there truly no archon who will ever listen to you? Is this why back in the human trafficking ring, nobody formed friendships with each other?
"Since you've already seen your answer, let's head back."
With nothing else to do in an empty room, you followed the Balladeer back to his office.
The silence in the office was deafening as he signed the papers you have handed to him. Only the noise of his pen scratching the paper surrounds the both of you.
"What if I tell you that I'm meant to be a god? Would you worship me?"
You stared at him.
"If that is what you want from me, my Lord. Then yes, I will worship you."
He blinked at you.
"What a fascinating answer. However, it's not what I'm looking for. And here you wonder why the gods don't listen to the likes of you."
What else does he want from you then?
-----
"I finally have what is rightfully mine. That annoying fox and that dumb traveler made it all too easy."
Scaramouche is currently bandaging the wounds he has inflicted on you while recounting the story of obtaining the electro gnosis. To be frank, you could care less of what he thinks as you do not like gods.
"What's your plan now?"
He glared at you as if you have just asked the stupidest of quesitons.
"Become a god, what else?"
You laughed.
"How boring."
Your husband dropped your arm and stood up from the bed. He carried with him the first-aid kit back to the bathroom. You laid down your bed and await his return.
When he went back, he made you pull the blanket over the two of you.
"I'll not be back for a few weeks. Even if I don't want to, I have to since only that bastard the Doctor can do something about it."
You frowned at him.
"The Doctor is dubious at best. Are you really sure?"
Scaramouche pulled the blanket over the two of you to shut you up.
He may be hundreds of years old, he can never stop being a brat. But you guess, that is one of the few things you find endearing about him. Even if there are more bad things than good things you can see about him, your heart will always beat for him and him only.
You hope this endeavor of his is finally the thing the ends him.
"Even to the end, I will never be apart from you. For you are the only one I have left to lose."
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shalotttower · 15 hours
Text
A Natural Benefit
Title: A Natural Benefit
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)
Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.
Word count: 2100+
Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House
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"Would you indulge me?"
Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.
His habits are strange but harmless.
"No," you say, just to be contrary.
L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.
"I want to kiss you."
"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"
"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.
"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."
"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.
"Because I don't want to."
A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.
L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.
He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"
Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.
"No."
He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.
"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."
Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.
"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."
He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."
Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.
He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.
L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.
______________________________________________________
You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.
He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.
"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.
"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.
"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."
"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.
You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.
L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.
"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.
"No, he won't."
"Yes, he will."
L hums. "Want a bet?"
Your eyes narrow.
"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I leave you alone for two days."
There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.
You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.
A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.
It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.
"The speakers?"
"Switched off."
"The cameras?"
"Those will stay."
Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.
L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.
Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.
Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.
"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.
______________________________________________________
Twelve minutes.
Three more and he's dead.
You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.
_______________________________________________________
The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.
When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.
"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.
That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.
You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.
L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.
Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.
It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.
You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.
There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.
You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.
Anticipation.
"Fine," you say finally.
His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.
He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.
You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.
Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.
"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.
He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.
Band-aids and ripping them off.
You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.
He tastes like caramel popcorn.
Mint tea.
Indulgence.
The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.
It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.
"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."
Technicalities and loopholes.
L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.
"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."
You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.
"I told you it would benefit us both."
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lunicho · 1 day
Note
Good lordddd I need to suck Kei’s dick so baddddd
He loves being watched I 100% agree if there’s one thing Kei loves it’s performing…
I’d like to believe that sometimes he’ll masturbate just to get you to watch behind the door
Like imagine he knows you’re coming home from work or college so he will start making himself feel good and he’ll “pretend” that he didn’t hear you come in so you end up looking at him through the small crack in the door he intentionally left. he’s so pretty and making such delicious noises that you don’t have the heart to disrupt him and your mind is so busy watching him you don’t even think about walking in and joining.
He loves getting off on the fact that you’re completely unaware he knows you’re there. The way you just stand there and watch makes him fuck his fist faster.
If you stand there for too long he’ll finally make eye contact and call you out saying shit like “do you like the show, baby?” Or “if you wanted to watch all you had to do was ask” maybe even an “I know you’re there baby, you think I wouldn’t know when my pretty lover is watching me?”
Omfg just imagine his hair all messy and he has that signature piece of his bang that lays in the middle of his forehead 🤯
Our Keikei 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Keikei who loves to corner you even if he’s not even touching you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Keikei who moans and cums into his hand while keeping eye contact with you 😵‍💫😵‍💫 Keikei who smirks and tells you to come closer 😵‍💫 Keikei who’s grin widens as you slowly walk towards him, knowing that you’ll follow his every command 😵‍💫
-😵‍💫 anon who is now plagued with Kei AND Harua thoughts…
Don’t write any Euijoo thoughts or else that’ll be my whole bias line and I don’t think I can take all three of them without exploding 😔 /j
oh my eyes are watering i can't believe you
u must genuinely want me dead like WHAT. imagining him getting fully undressed in bed, his clothes thrown near the door for extra effect. his hand would stroke up his length so smoothly because of the lubricant he's using,, he loves when his hand is able to glide easily, the sound of his hand on his cock filling the room. it'd make him even harder, the sound being reminiscent of your pussy. it'd take everything in him not to gaze over at the door, not to give into the fact that you're already there. he'd throw his head back and still his hand, thrusting up into his fist. a bud would grow in his stomach so fast but he doesn't wanna cum without you. i feel like after so long he'll just sigh out like, "watching me is that fun? come in baby.." his hair would def be so so messy cuz i feel like he pulls his own hair/touches his hair a lot when he jerks off like it's just a habit of his.
him knowing the affect he has on u is deadly, the way he knows you comply with him so easily. he can see in your stature and the way you walk that he'll be able to mold you and play with you however he pleases. he doesn't even need to speak for you to listen, he could just pat the bed or motion over to you for you to come over and join him ooh i'm sick
this is making me think of like.. what if one of the other members is a bit of a loser, super lame but super pervy and he always watches u and kei have sex, he has a fascination with u, one that kei is aware of. kei knows he's there, he knows he gets off to the way you moan and cry but kei pretends he's not aware until it's time to expose him..
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agirlwithglam · 1 day
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Motivation: things to like about these subjects
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Math:
Isn’t math kinda magical in a way? See, the thing about math is that it’s the same in every country! Every equation, no matter how hard or complex or long, can easily be broken down into much easier ones, (like simple adding, multiplying, dividing, or subtracting) Once you know what’s going on, it’s not really that hard. (+ take cute notes!!)
Science:
Ookay, honestly? Science is genuinely so interesting! How your body works, how plants create their own food, how the whole solar system was made/ operates, whether there’s other life out there, chemical reactions & experiments? If you actually tried to be fascinated by it, you’ll be surprised how incredible it all is! (+ take cute notes!!)
English:
Me personally, I loveee English. You can too by trying to romanticise it!
If you’re doing poetry, like what’s there not to like? Poetry is such a beautiful language, it’s a way of expression through gentleness.
Writing short stories? This is my favourite. You can write it about anything, the possibilities are endless! Doesn’t it excite you?
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History
Don’t try to remember facts and dates of events, try to learn the story behind it. You’ll find that it actually becomes so much more interesting if you remember the story, the emotions, the plots of the event.
Romanticising: hot chocolate or some hot coffee, studying at home, hair in a messy bun, playing some classical music in the background.
(+ also in class when you’re taking notes, you can doodle pictures of the people (stick figures for me lol), how they’d feel like or events on the side to add a bit of fun to it)
And honestly, history is such ‘romance subject’ (like arts, music, literature, languages)
Geography
Become good at it. If you don’t already have an interest in geography, then what helped me was becoming good at it. Paying attention during lessons, taking cute notes, etc. becoming good at it made it so much easier and less scary
Languages
This is also what I’d call a “Romance language”. Also dont you want to learn new languages? So many people decide to learn languages later in their lives because they find out it helps you in one way or another, but in school they’re already teaching it to you in the BEST WAY! Also knowing and being able to speak more than 1 languages fluently makes you SO powerful bc then you can speak in more countries. And also imagine how impressed people would be?!
Music
Have fun with it! It mostly depends on what you are doing in your music lessons, but what you would normally be doing is learning/ practicing an instrument. Don’t be immature and play it at random times when the teacher is talking, but just have fun with it! Again, like i said earlier, so many people start to learn music so much later in their lives and here it is being handed to you on a silver platter. TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT!
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Art / art&design
Personally, I LOVE art!! It’s another “romance subject”. It’s a beautiful form of expression. Even though you may not be doing what you want to be doing, still have fun with it!! Be creative! And importantly: loosen up! Art, like beauty, is very very subjective. One person’s scribble can be another’s MASTERPIECE! So stop bring so worried with it being “correct”. Just have appreciation.
P.E (physical education/ sport)
I just don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t like PE. Like you don’t even have to learn anything, you just run around playing fun games. And as a bonus u get fit!
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xoxo, vanilla
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"Nonetheless, ease and peace had left this people still curiously tough. They were, if it came to it, difficult to daunt or to kill; and they were, perhaps, so unwearyingly fond of good things not least because they could, when put to it, do without them, and could survive rough handling by grief, foe, or weather in a way that astonished those who did not know them well and looked no further than their bellies and their well-fed faces. Though slow to quarrel, and for sport killing nothing that lived, they were doughty at bay, and at need could still handle arms. They shot well with the bow, for they were keen-eyed and sure at the mark. Not only with bows and arrows. If any Hobbit stooped for a stone, it was well to get quickly under cover, as all trespassing beasts knew well."
-J.R.R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, Prologue 1. Concerning Hobbits pgs. 5-6
This paragraph fascinates me for a few reasons. Often in fiction, a long period of peace is often used for explaining why people are so slow to react to a rising threat. That prolonged prosperity dulled the senses and breeds complacency. Indeed, Frodo himself does express some exasperation and almost wishes for a dragon or some evil force to invade the Shire to shake the Hobbits out of their complacency.
Which to some level is true here. It's a known fact that Hobbits like to keep out of the affairs of the "big people". Yet at the same time, even if they want to keep themselves isolated, it doesn't mean the world won't march into the Farthings regardless of what they want. After all, there wasn't a whole lot stopping the Nazgul or Saruman from entering their borders.
Yet at the same time, the paragraph does illustrate that just because Hobbits have grown accustomed to peace, doesn't mean they're pushovers. Consider Bandobras "Bullroarer" Took and the Battle of the Green Fields. When a goblin warband led by Golfimbel descended from the Misty Mountains and broke through the Dunedain's encirclement to invade the Shire, Bullroarer charged straight at the goblin ranks. He then proceeded to knock Golfimbel's head off and shatter the morale of the warband.
The story was repeated in the Battle of Bywater when Saruman decided to set up a criminal ring in the Shire after his defeat at the hands of the Ents. Long story short, once Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin returned, the Hobbits proceeded to raise up a sizeable force and effectively kicked Saruman out of the Shire. Mind you, Saruman used to be the greatest wizard in Middle-Earth, and the Hobbits led to his final defeat. That's two accounts of invasions of the Shire going badly for the invaders.
And that's not even getting into the adventures that Bilbo, Frodo, and his friends got into during the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings respectively. Bilbo was able to save the asses of Thorin's Company multiple times, discovered Smaug's weakpoint and indirectly relayed that to Bard via the Thrush, and risked life and limb to forestall a battle between the Dwarves, Men, and Elves till Bolg showed up. Frodo and Sam were ultimately able to destroy the One Ring, while Merry and Pippin were able to rouse the Ents into attacking Isengard. That's not even counting Merry being partially responsible for the death of the infamous Witch King.
So even though the Hobbits were accustomed to peace, they weren't complacent enough to be pushovers when presented with a threat. Personally, I think part of the reason this is so is because the Hobbits never forgot the basic necessities of a good life: a comfortable home, friends, family, and basically everything needed to live simply. They never indulged too much in luxury to become lax like Smaug, nor constantly scheming to take more power like Sauron or Saruman. They were happy with living simple on the farm.
It turns out, that's what gave them their edge. They were down to earth, so they had a good sense of morality thanks to living humble lives. Safeguarding their farms from wild animals meant that some Hobbits could recognize a threat when they realized it. And their sense of community and friendship got them through some of their hardest trials, like when Frodo almost succumbed to the Ring and Sam never gave up on him. Their sense of community and toughing it out through the hardest times such as during the Long Winter when Gandalf began to really warm up to the Hobbits, seeing the value and courage in them.
So while they're not the flashiest or most "badass" of Middle-Earth's free peoples, the Hobbits are some of the hardiest and "purest" races. And how ironically, peace never dulled their senses but served to toughen them up for the dark times ahead.
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fluffyhare · 3 days
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I know I gush a lot about lee!Avery, but, the thing is... I think about ler!Avery a lot, too.
Gosh, the way he thinks tickling is so fascinating, and also so much fun...
The way he gets excited and a bit mischievous at the prospect of tickling someone, and then that eagerness turns quickly into sly teasing, because he is so playful... And there's nothing he loves more than making his friends happy and giggly, in any way he can...
He's practically made for tickling, too... with his scientific attitude and skillful, soft fingers. Since tickling doesn't exist in Cirropa (Cirropians have a unique way of touching each other, which I'll expand on later), it's a relatively new concept for him, which makes it all the more intriguing. Plus, he's especially fascinated by humans who enjoy it... it's so endearing for him that the delicate, warm, soft humans he delights to observe would take pleasure in being made to laugh that way... That they enjoy laughing just like he does, despite being so physiologically different, and they have such a special and unique way to experience it...
It's not just a flash in the pan for him, either. Tickling -- human play -- is a game, and one that he wants to not just learn, but be good at. It intrigues him that humans are not all ticklish in the same places, and though he's interested in finding your most ticklish spots, he's also interested in finding the spots you enjoy the most. Your enjoyment and comfort with being tickled by him is his utmost priority, so he's very invested in making the session as fun for you as possible. He holds a certain reverence for humans... he feels honored to be allowed to tickle you, that a human would trust him enough to be so vulnerable... to allow him to exploit that vulnerability through tickling. Though he does want to learn and understand all he can about tickling, teasing, and how it affects different people, that scientific curiosity never comes at your expense. He also knows that you are weaker and much more fragile than he is, and he will handle you with tender, expert care.
Playing right into his curiosity, is his fascination with humans in general, particularly how they are unique and different from each other... which means he genuinely gets excited to tickle people with all different body types and dispositions, and delights in learning how different personalities and bodies react to his tickling. Particularly interesting to him is shyness; he finds it adorable that it's often the shyest, most bashful humans who enjoy tickling the most... generally, they are also outrageously ticklish, and particularly enjoy his gentle brand of teasing.
If Avery cares about you, he will be particularly tender. If he loves you or considers you a friend -- which, frankly, is an incredibly low bar, since he already loves humans as a whole, he has a huge heart, and loves to make friends -- he will all but dote on you as he tickles you. He will respect anyone he is tickling no matter what, but if you're his friend, he will be particularly invested in gently pushing your buttons, making you blush, and trying to heighten your enjoyment as much as he can. He considers every chance at tickling you an opportunity for him to learn something new, whether it's a new spot, a particularly effective technique, or a certain combination of words that makes you uncontrollably flustered. The better he can make the session for you, the better it is for him.
The sweetest, most charming part of all this, is... though Avery would naturally be curious about tickling, anyway... It holds so much significance to him because of how important it is to Casper. He wants to understand tickling and teasing on the deepest level possible, not just for scientific reasons, but because he wants to share it with his partner and their friends.
God, I could go on and on...
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glitchyk · 2 days
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Got bored so I figured I’d write a bit of an overview of that one dream I had that was basically like cult of the lamb, but like, it was mainly @unfunnyaceartist and @rabid-mercenary16 as huge cult leaders/goddesses, meanwhile I/Kay was the conduit (meaning carrier in this case— holding someone else’s power) of a weakened god, which… was not normal.
Ps u think their ‘followings’ kinda represented actual following in tumblr since they were both large and I was small
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It was odd, I was human, yet not… became something else almost suddenly. I was a conduit, Inanis’ conduit. Something to show their power, but I was human… there were many others. Others I’d heard of. My only instructions from them was to gather a following on their name.. that I’d gain power, and it’s my only chance of survival. So… I attempted. I didn’t really mind the whole thing.. surprisingly, I gained followers, minions who had become part of my cult, though it was small, yet one day, when recruiting… I saw someone fairly different.
She was a jester, she seemed taller, and parts of her clothing that seemed to drape too far from her body, looked as if they were dissipating at the edges like smoke. She saw me and seemed confused.. I could tell she was a god, by her power she have off, by the voice in my head, and by how she presented herself.. hey oddly.. she didn’t seem to mind me. She looked at me as of if I was a fascinating specimen.. maybe it was just obvious, due to how I was. She seemed amused with me, and actually.. invited me to visit, she said that she ‘always likes to check on the little guys’… I guess that’s what I am, in all honesty, I didn’t expect to even get to ten followers in my cult, yet I had by that time reached at least forty, if I remember correctly, and not too soon later, I met Ace.
They seemed like the mix of some kind of Angel and some kind of demon, that was just the energy they gave off though.. parts of their face shielded by tiny feathery wings, now they clearly could be seen as a god.. I wasn’t afraid, yet again, but I was more puzzled.. why had these beings found me amusing? In fact Ace even… followed me. They said they liked my ideals, and that perhaps our cults could coexist.. it’s odd, everyone portrays it like you can only have one belief, but through this, I found out that it’s not all bloody war.. in fact the gods can have respect for one another.. they can even have respect for me. A human. Just a vessel for a higher power.
Ace and rabid seemed close, from what I’d heard Ace say. None the less, I was a part of Ace and Rabid’s following.. I didn’t know that was a thing before, but it seems like it is. I felt a bit embarrassed though, when Ace first visited my little village.. it was small and had many less than her large following, yet.. she seemed to enjoy it. I seemed to have gained the goddesses’ trust.. and than even more surprisingly, Rabid. I felt like a child compared to the two, maybe because they were both taller, due to being eternal beings, and the fact that I was so small, yet they found me interesting. I even got comfortable enough to flirt playfully with them, even if I didn’t notice I was doing it.
I feel like they just found me intriguing since I was a human with these abilities.. but now it dawns on me that they might just.. enjoy my presence.. I enjoy theirs as well.. their lucky to have one another
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katabay · 2 months
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original thief series basso & garrett :)
ngl, it's about quality over quantity for me. an npc can have a total of three minutes of screen time, but if they have a cool name, they can live rent free in my head and I'll spend several hours trying to decipher drawable features from a blurry screenshot of pixels
there is a vague hint of a story here, and that's because every time I try to play thi4f, I get incredibly frustrated with how Not Fun the game play is. like, is the story good? well. but it has a PLAGUE. that should've given it instant 'I'll replay this once a year' status in my heart, but the game play sucks so bad that I've never finished it. I can't believe Not Fun gameplay beat out my obsession with narrative plagues.
anyway, the idea is basically if the original era had a game with a plague centric narrative and some other stuff I liked out of thi4f thrown into a narrative blender, with a heavy dash of horror thrown in because some parts of the thief games were scarier to me than entire dedicated horror genre games.
⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
#if i had a laptop and the skillset i would attempt a story mod because the thief modders who create whole mission stories#are GENIUS and also somewhat terrifying. love them! xoxox#anyway im actually kind of obsessed with parts of thi4f but its also like. not at that sweet spot of almost good enough to be fun#to talk about. which. for the record. has not stopped me from talking about it at length to people#the city itself actually fucking fascinates me. its almost alive and im SO mad that not a single part of that game is actually terrifying#it should be gnarlier and instead it feels a bit like it doesn't quite want to be trapped in the story it has to tell?#but between the level that has the bodies on the meathooks#and the scene with the bodies hanging from the rafters or whatever that was and garrett living in a clock tower#because the game is very much ALMOST about changing times and authoritarian violence and capitalism#(like. by virtue of how the story sort of spins out i think it misses it's mark on a lot of stuff here#in the sense that i dont feel like it actually wants to tell that story. it wants to. go in a different direction. or at least walk on top#of those themes instead of through it)#ANYWAY between all of those things. it does kind of live in my head rent free. they did create a compelling setting#SHAME THEY DIDNT WANT TO ACTUALLY EAT ANY OF IT#unrelated but i would've given thi4f a 10/10 if they kept garrett's fucking nail polish from the concept art. cowards. unforgivable#thief the dark project#i still have no idea how to tag the game series as a whole RIP#sorry for the dedicated dark project fans. if you know what the general series tag is. please let me know#garrett thief#basso thief
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couldneverhurtusnow · 3 months
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[chemistry] it's not a word that actors [use]. but you must endeavor a little bit to try and fall in love, in whatever that capacity is. and andrew is a very easy person to fall in love with. he's kind, generous, talented. we shot the film at the perfect junction in our friendship where there was a lot we didn't know about each other, but there was mutual admiration and respect. and a similar sense of humor. (...) yeah, it felt fizzy when we were acting. especially with that first scene at the door -- it's so well-written. you feel like you're dancing through the scene, you can go in loads of different ways, and if i went one way, andrew would go another. if that's what chemistry is, i was aware it was happening.
-- paul on chemistry and whether ‘they (andrew & paul) knew instantly that their onscreen relationship was working’ in all of us strangers, screendaily.com (1/31/24)
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 10 months
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it does something incomprehensible to my little writer’s soul whenever alex articulates a phenomenon of the writing process i’ve always picked up on and then goes on to describe it in exactly the same way
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arcadianico · 10 months
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rotating this scene in my head
I just think it’s so fascinating the difference between elq’s dynamic with cucurucho here and the dynamic between qq and cucurucho the last time we saw them together.
like functionally both qs are doing a similar thing (asking questions and talking on when cucurucho doesn’t answer them) but the power dynamic is clearly different. cucurucho’s silence with qq felt like amusement, here it feels like shyness almost? and elq’s reaction when he sees that the others are coming to the station feels somewhere between a boss and your parent saying “i told you so”. idk it feels clear to me that elq is the one with the power between the two of them
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