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bad268 · 2 months

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hey! hope you are well. I was thinking of an idea for a Kimi Antonelli x reader story and as you write for him the best I knew you would write it so well.

maybe reader is toto's daughter, and her and kimi are in a relationship. but y/n can't make it to the last race of the season but she ends up surprising him after the race (she was there the whole time) and he runs to her and its all adorable and everyone is clapping?

just a thought!

love your work!

Couldn't Keep Me Away (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Wolff! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I think I cooked too much with this lol...)

Warnings: sick! reader, mentions cough medicine

POV: Second Person (You/your/She/her)

W.C. 1956

Summary: She's never missed a race…until now?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(@/Kimi’s insta from February 13, 2024)

It all came down to this. Not in the literal sense, more along the lines of it was the last race of the season. The team’s champions and driver’s championship had already been decided, so there was nothing to lose in this race. Well, except his sanity.

You had been at every race this season. Not because of your father, Toto Wolff. Actually, maybe that played a part, but you were always in the Prema garage. He could not remember what it was like to not have you in the garage between practice and qualifying or during pre-race shenanigans.

When you were not on track for media day, he knew something was up. Yes, he knew you hated media day because it was boring, but it was also the day you had the most time together since the F1 teams and drivers were more popular interviewees. He tried texting and calling you only to receive nothing in response. He knew what he was going to have to do.

Speak to your father.

He decided to stop by before the sprint race. Walking into the Mercedes garage, he spotted your father immediately and standing beside him, your mother, Susie, and brother, Jack. He suddenly knew that you should have been here too. The only reason you gave him in the past for why you may need to miss a race was to watch your brother. You never did miss a race, but there was always the possibility.

He swallowed his concern, not needing to worry yet, as he walked up to your family. He waited for them to finish their conversation before he tapped on Toto’s shoulder. Immediately, Toto turned around to meet Kimi’s worried eyes.

“Kimi, is there something wrong?” Toto asked, sensing Kimi’s anxiousness, but chalking it up to the upcoming race. “Is it the race?”

“No…I mean, kind of?” Kimi answered but immediately contradicted himself. It was much more different talking to Toto about you than about racing. Despite knowing that both of your parents are aware of your relationship, he tried his best to only talk to Toto about racing whenever they were on the track. This was a first for Kimi, and he just did not know how he wanted to go about asking. Finally, after receiving multiple uneasy looks from Susie and Toto, Kimi took a deep breath before just deciding to go for it. “Do you know where she is? She’s not answering my texts or calls, and I’m getting worried.”

“Oh, Kimi, she’s sick,” Susie jumped in. She knew exactly who he wanted to know about, so she showed him a text from you that said you took some medicine and would try to sleep it off. “She’s been sick almost all week. I thought she told you.”

“Oh, have she sent any updates recently? Do you know how she’s feeling?” Kimi rushed. Looking back, he realized that every time he texted you, it would have been late back at home, so it made sense that you did not respond. Plus, to add the sickness on top of it? He felt like shit for not catching it earlier.

“That was the last text I received,” Susie said, sadly. Toto stepped away as he got a call, leaving Kimi and Susie to talk while Jack was distracted by Mick. “It was sent a few hours ago, so she might be awake now. You could call her?”

“No need,” Toto said as he walked back over, holding out the phone to Kimi. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

Hesitantly, Kimi took the phone and saw your name as the caller ID. He looked back up at Toto and Susie as they turned their backs to him and walked toward the pit wall to give him a little privacy. Immediately, Kimi raised the phone to his ear, “Amore (love)? How are you feeling? I heard you were sick. Are you staying hydrated?”

He gets cut off hearing you giggle lightly before descending into a light coughing fit. He smiled lightly for a second before growing concerned once again when he heard you cough. “Slow down, liebe (love). I am feeling better, just a few coughs here and there.”

“That didn’t sound like ‘a few coughs here and there,’” He mocked lightheartedly but in all seriousness.

“That’s because you triggered it,” you laughed again. This time, able to hold back the coughs, just needing to clear your throat before you talk again. “I promise, I’m doing better. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“As long as you’re feeling better,” He sighed, knowing you’re alright now. Off to the side, he sees his race engineer looking for him, so he realizes that he needs to wrap up the call with you to race. ��Keep resting, amore. I have to go race now, but I’ll call you after, I promise.”

“I’ll be watching, liebe,” you smiled to yourself, and Kimi could hear it too. “Good luck, Kimi. Give the phone back to my dad, please?”

With that, he walked up to Toto again to hand him the phone before disappearing with his engineer. Toto raised the phone, chuckling lightly at Kimi’s rush as he greeted his daughter.

“Can I be on the first flight out? I feel better.”

Kimi had a horrible sprint race. He was already starting in 10th because he was on pole for the feature race, but he became collateral damage in a fight between a couple of cars further back. It was the last lap too! They were all outside the points, so there really was no point in racing that hard. However, that’s what happened.

He did his best to hide his disappointment as he walked past the engineers to the driver’s room he shared with Ollie, who was already there because of a tire blowout from one of the earlier laps. Kimi started changing out of his race suit and into his normal clothes, just wanting to sleep the race off.

“Your phone went off a few minutes ago,” Ollie said, breaking the silence and catching Kimi’s attention as he threw a Mercedes shirt over his head. “And don’t blame yourself. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Plus, it’s not like this race mattered. You already won the championship, we won the team championship, and you have a seat for next year.”

“Thanks, Ollie, but that’s not the point,” Was he lying? Partly, but there was some truth. He was upset at the race result, but he was also still slightly bummed that you were not there. Thinking of you, he wanted to call you.

Kimi looked through his bag for his phone, finding it with no problems. He noticed the number of notifications, but the only one that mattered to him was the one from you. It was a few minutes prior and it read, “I’m so sorry liebe! That crash was nasty, I hope you’re okay. I just took more medicine, so I might be asleep by the time you finish post-race media. I’ll call you when I wake up. Ich liebe dich (I love you).”

He sent a quick response, telling you he was alright and he loved you. Then, he went about the rest of his day. And the rest of his night. And the next morning. At that point, he started getting nervous again since you were not responding again. What kind of medicine were you taking that knocked you out for 12 hours, he thought.

He wanted to go back to your parents again, but the feature race prep was different compared to the sprint. He did not have the same break he did with the sprint. Ever since he got to the track, he was warming up and prepping for the final race. He was nervous given the result the day before. He did not want to end the season on a double DNF, especially when he was going to get an F1 seat the following season in a Mercedes. He had to score well in the race.

If he had found a way to get to the Mercedes garage, he would have seen you sitting with your brother while your parents had a last-minute meeting. And if Kimi had been in any other starting position, he would have seen you walk into the Prema garage with Jack. Pole position was different though because they needed to do more interviews and promo pictures. If Kimi could have seen around his car from his grid box, he would have seen you sitting on the pit wall.

The race started without a hitch, Kimi was back in his groove, and it was clear to see that he was confident in his moves again. Sure, he was not fighting anyone for position, but there were a couple of times when he had to defend. He did so perfectly, and it made people wonder if the sprint race was just a one-off day for him. It was all worth it when he crossed the finish line first again.

The team immediately ran to Parc Ferme to wait for the cars as they scored a Prema 1-2. Kimi pulled into the first spot, Ollie into the second, and Victor in the third. Ollie and Victor jumped out of their cars immediately, running to their teams, but Kimi took a minute. This win should have felt good, especially after the disaster that was the sprint race, but it didn’t.

It was fun to win, but he was going to have to jump out of the car and celebrate with his team. Just his team. This is the first race you were not going to be there celebrating with him, and he would rather delay the inevitable.

You could feel his hesitance to get out of the car, so you handed Jack over to your parents as you pulled up your mask and pushed through the people to get to the gate. You got there relatively easily considering you went through the Prema team, and they knew you would be the first person he’d want to see.

Kimi finally climbed out and stood on top of his car, posing for the camera momentarily. Then, his attention shifted to his team, and he froze. You were there! He’d recognize those eyes anywhere! Of course, you made it. He jumped off of the car and flung himself over the barrier to wrap you in his arms.

“You made it. I can’t believe you made it,” He whispered over and over, not even bothering to question if you could hear him through his helmet. That’s when he remembered, so he pulled back to take his helmet and balaclava off as well as his gloves. He put the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature, causing you to laugh. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m seeing if you’ve got a fever.”

“I’m all good, my fever broke yesterday,” You consoled as you pulled his hand off of your forehead to hold it as you kissed his cheek through your mask. “I’m all good. The mask is just a precaution.”

“Screw precaution, I wanna kiss you,” Kimi whined as he pulled the mask down to give you a long kiss. Despite not actually hearing it, the team all started clapping and F1 TV definitely got a good shot of you two. When he pulled away, he put the mask back on for you as he leaned his head against yours. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“You couldn’t keep me away even if you tried,” You whispered back, leaning up to bump your nose against his, “I’ll always find a way to be here for you.”

~~~~~

#andrea kimi antonelli x reader #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #kimi x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #f2 #mercedes amg petronas #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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biggameplayertrentaa · 5 months

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Poison Ivy

Word count: 1825k Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem!reader/stripper!y/n/ Warning: smut-ish Summary: What happens when Vini convinces Jude to hit up a strip club during the international break? Author note: I haven’t written a fic in years so please forgive me lol. As I continue to write, it should get better. Also, send requests!

The mirror ball was the first thing Jude noticed upon first stepping foot into the private room. Hidden strategically at the very back of the gentle’s club, the mirror ball contradicted the room’s overall essence. Mirror balls typically indicate light-hearted fun, something the 7 by 10-foot space was not giving at all. Red LED lights decorated the perimeter of the low, popcorn ceiling denoting the ambiance of the room as mystic, seductive, and almost tantalizing. A plush velvet love seat rested along one of its plain walls, the only other piece of furniture accompanying it being a plastic folding chair placed directly below the mirrored facet-covered sphere.

Not knowing what else to do, he sat on the chair.

Palms littered with perspiration and tingling with anticipation, he glided them roughly against the fabric of his dark denim. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had never been to a gentlemen’s club before. The idea also never particularly intrigued him either. He just didn’t get it. Jude was young, rich, and attractive, he did not need to pay for the attention of women.

He also found the entire thing slightly creepy.

Jude thought he was above it, but Vini had insisted. The Brazilian was convinced that a little lap dance and some fat asses would be the very things that would cheer him up after being ruled out of England’s camp due to his bad shoulder.

“It will also get you away from your mother.” His teammate clowned, always finding ways to tease Jude about his living situation.

After persistent urging, Jude was finally coerced into spending his Friday night at Madrid’s most prestige strip club. Prestige is generous, thought Jude, fingers toying with the cracked material on the folding chair. Jude silently prayed that the club’s vibe was the only thing Vini embellished. He had gone on for nearly an hour about the dancer he had specifically recommended, Ivy.

“She’s beyond sexy and she doesn’t make you feel like a creep; like she’s enjoying it just as much as you are.” This was the only thing Jude could recall from Vini’s briefing. He knows he had gone into her physical appearance, but the 20-year-old midfielder allowed his mind to wander as he did so. He didn’t care, this was merely something to check off his non-existent bucket list.

A faint click of the door snatched Jude away from his thoughts. Adorn in nothing but a red-laced thong and strappy heels, Ivy stood before him. She had braids that were thrown up into a high pony that accentuated her high cheekbones and somehow drew attention to her plump, red-colored lips. Vibrant and brown, her skin looked soft and the red light danced along it beautifully. Jude had the urge to reach out and touch her. Her sudden presence had winded him.

Jude was struck by her beauty and the energy that was emanating from her. He couldn’t name this energy, but he knew she exuded a lot more than just sex.

Ivy was hypnotizing.

She was still in the doorways, eyes low and a small smile tugging at her lips as she allowed him to take her in. She shamelessly mirrored his actions.

“Hi.” Her voice was sultry, smooth.

“Hi.” It was breathless and did not flow with the same honey-like cadence of her greeting.

“You only paid for a 15-minute session.”

Her lips had formed into a slight pout, but the glint in her eye did not lose its vibrancy as she walked over to him. Her pace was slow, teasing; it was as if she was a predator and he, the prey. Jude felt small under gaze-vulnerable and exposed too despite being fully clothed- but did not divert his eyes.

He couldn’t.

He did not know if it was mesmerization, anticipation, or a mixture of both coupled with immense intrigue. When she was finally positioned in front of him, directly under the mirrorball with the red of the LEDS adding to her radiance, he decided to finally speak,

“Y-yeah,” He began to stammer.

With clenched eyes, he cleared his throat and shook his head. A poor attempt to shake the nerves. “I’m new to this.” He stated, voice now steady but lacking the bass it typically accompanied.

Jude caught a whiff of her musky vanilla-scented perfume. Ivy was so close and her radiance so sensually warm that he found himself even more nervous than he was as he was waiting for her. He was slowly beginning to understand why Vini had gone on and on about Ms.Ivy.

She was magnetic.

“So you don’t want to overwhelm yourself?” She quips, reaching out to draw a delicate line down his chest with her pointer finger. He dropped his gaze to follow the trace of her finger; the red-manicured nail contrasted beautifully against his fitted white shirt. Before Jude could think of a countering remark, she hitched a leg over his waist and straddled him.

“Well, I am honored to be the person who takes your lap-dance virginity.” Ivy punctuates her statement with a slight roll of her hips.

He feels himself stiffen.

The denim of his jeans suddenly grew restrictive and uncomfortable. Without thought, he reaches for her hip, fingers immediately kneading at the soft flesh.

“My bodyguard will come and save you when your time is up.”

And with that, Ivy throws her arms loosely over his shoulder. Leaning forward so she was able to plant her heeled feet on either side of his legs, she moved her hips in a figure-8 motion. Her lips hovered over the shell of his ear before she gave it a ghosting kiss. Jude then felt the wet, but firm tip of her tongue press delicate to his ear. He shudders, hairs on the back of his neck standing on its ends.

Jude can feel his heart hammering against his chest and hopes that Ivy cannot. His head was buzzing and his thoughts were racing but it was difficult to decipher what all he was thinking about. Ivy had seemingly lowered his defenses, putting him completely at her mercy. She continues her routine, hips now moving in tune with the steady thump thump thump of the bass of the song that was playing in the background. She expertly glides up and down his body, never losing rhythm and never, ever freeing him from the shackles of her dark brown gaze.

Ivy rises from her seated position, now looming over him. She takes a step back while her hands moved to her bare tits. She presses them together, rolling them between her hands, and moans. The bottom of Jude’s lip immediately finds itself tucked between his two front teeth. His hands are limp by his side but his fingertips tingle with the urge to touch them... to touch her.

Jude is lightheaded with excitement.

When Ivy turns around, bending slightly so her bare ass was in his face, with her plump, glistening pussy completely visible, Jude considered officially making Vini his best mate. Her back is arched as she caresses her hands down her backside. Cupping her ass cheeks slightly before giving it a slight jiggle.

Jude lets out a groan that only shocks him.

Ivy repeats the action a few more times before she returns to his lap.

“Did you like that?”

She asks one of her brows slightly arched. Jude gives a slight nod, hands still at his side. Ivy reaches beside them, taking his larger hands in hers before placing them directly on her ass. His palms almost cover its surface. Ivy bites her lip at the realization and suppresses a groan of her own before saying, “Do it again if you like it. Go on, baby play with me like I’m yours.”

With a piercing gaze, Jude followed Ivy’s orders, mimicking her previous actions a couple of times before boldly slapping her ass. Her eyes darkened, the playful glint that had adorned them only seconds prior now completely dissipated.

Her arms were around his neck and her nails were scratching slightly at the hairs on the nape of it. She leaned in, her lips so dangerously close to his own that if either of them moved even a centimeter, they would collide. There was no doubt now that she could feel the beating of his heart against her own chest, but Jude didn’t care. His mind had situated itself in the deepest gutter, yielding full control to the expert seductress on his lap.

She nudges her nose with his. Jude mirrors her actions.

Ivy moves to the side, placing a kiss on his cheek and then the underside of his jaw. Lolling his head back with a slight tug of his neck, she drags her lips from his jaw down to his Adam’s apple.

It moves when she places a firm kiss on it.

She continues to kiss the length of his neck and Jude fears he may have forgotten how to breathe. His hands had not moved from the position on her ass but his attack on it had completely stopped. He was too consumed by the sorcery Ivy was currently conducting. His bulge was pressing uncomfortable against his zipper and he made a mental note to wear loose joggers the next time he came to visit Ms. Ivy.

Ivy was now on her knees in front of her. She was massaging his thighs, peppering the dent in his denim with light, teasing kisses. “I always said I would never do this, but I might have to break the rules,” Ivy mumbles primarily to herself, but Jude catches it and lets out a mental sigh at the implication that no one else had received this treatment before him.

Just as she was for him, he was her only exception.

Just as her fingers began to toy with his belt loop, Jude heard the door click open. A large man who had a striking resemblance to Terry Crews entered. His black t-shirt had the word SECURITY printed boldly in white on the center of it. “Times up, Ivy.” His voice was low and monotonous, completely unfazed by the scene he had walked into.

“Thank you, Jerry.”

Ivy was still on her knees in front of him. Though she was responding to Jerry, her eyes were laser-trained on Jude’s, and her fingers were still caught in his belt buckle. Jerry leaves without another word and when the door clicks behind him, Ivy finally rises. She places her hands firmly on his thighs and leans into him again. Jude’s eyes instinctively close at the proximity, lips slightly puckering with anticipation. He can practically feel her words as she whispers them, “I hope this wasn’t too bad for your first time.” With a final nudge of his nose with her own, she stands straight and makes her way to the door. “I’ll see you next time.” She adds right before she closes it behind her.

Yes, Jude thought, you will.

#jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagines #jude x reader #jude #black y/n #black y/n x jude #jude bellingham x black y/n #jude:)

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r3d-redemptions · 2 months

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Mephistopheles & Raphael parallel

right, bare with me because i just want to discuss their parallel because it’s so fascinating to me. i don’t see it discussed enough. spoilers ahead!

• unsurprisingly, mephistopheles is charming and as cunning, but he can display different façades sometimes. and yet, behind that cold surface, mephisto is a walking contradiction. “Fiendish codex II” (i absolutely recommend getting this if you want to know more about the hells, it has all the essential about them) also describes him as depite for someone who appears cold and reserved all the time, mephistopheles would have an actual temper tantrum. something he does is “destroying everything around him in a thunderous explosion of hellfire and devastating magic.”

•mephistopheles appears as a handsome gentleman! he speaks in an intelligent, calculated manner and of course wit won’t be absent.

•he also doesn’t give up easilly when something gets in his way he would always find ways to get whatever he wants.

•he is always eager to find out new information around him, things thay could make himself even more powerful because he wants to take over asmodeus too

now, doesn’t what i’ve described above remind you of raphael? and isn’t it interesting how raph hates his daddy so much yet he wants to be so much like him? that’s daddy issues at its finest, if you ask me. besides, raphael’s inner conflict seems to be familliar to mephistopheles’, but in his case the conflict is based on the fact that he’s a half devil. the fact that he’s a human too makes him absolutely more vulnerable, unlike how devils are supposed to be. however, in my opinion, it’s his human form that brings him most of his sucess in deals after all.

regarding how raphael appears and expresses himself: he gives the first impression of an intelligent gentleman, but as the plot progresses, he’s a cunning little bastard that has us easily around his fingers. interestingly enough, he seems to display the same façade as his father… beyond having the inherited personality(most likely), i think raphael decided to display a very simillar façade to his fathers’ after he’s seen Mephistopheles becoming this powerful with such a personality.

and my favourite part so far: raphael’s ambition! in a case where you give the crown to gale and he becomes a god in the epilogue raphael is still very determined to take over as he would rise from the gods’ ruins, like he says. also, before fighting him in the house of hope, you can be something like “if you kill me you won’t have the crown” he’s like “yeah whatever i’ll get it because i can😠”.

about the finding information part… isn’t it interesting how around the house of hope you find so much powerul equipment? man seeks ANYTHING that can make him feel powerful. mind you, i’ve always found the amount of equipment he has around the house of hope pretty impressive ngl

(also the fact that he can manage so many portals? i wonder how they appeared in the house of hope in the first place, someone enlighten me pls xd)

anyway yeah, just wanted to ramble about it for now. i hope you enjoyed my yapping and that i made sense lol. thx for the attention and for reachig this point of the post :)

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion

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vampire-exgirlfriend · 1 year

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Hello, hello! First I wanted to say that I absolutely adore your writing. So thank you for sharing it with us common folk! Second regarding your open asks if possible and whenever: Bare and/or copper for Osferth? Pretty please? :) but only if you feel like it! xx

After Dark

I decided to play around with some season five Osferth for this one and really like how it came out. I've started to realize I always make baby monk a lil closet freak lol

Pairing: Osferth x reader (first person)

Rating: E

Warnings: smut, a tiny bit of blood

masterlist

Word that Rumcofa was to have a new Lord spread like wildfire, making its way through the church gossips to the tavern drunks and every home in between.

When he finally arrived, I found Lord Uhtred to be a decent enough sort, though maybe too pretty for his own good. Eyes followed him everywhere, raking over the hair that gave him away as a fellow Dane, to his charming smile and down his lean body. The men he traveled with respected him, and he in turn treated them with great affection. The Irishman, Finan, was quickly entangled with Ingrith, and Sithric Kjartansson brought with him a wife from Wessex. That left Alfred and Edward's bastards for the women of Rumcofa to fight over, one barely out of boyhood and the other an utter contradiction, wearing the cross of his god and the armor of a warrior.

They went for the handsome contradiction in droves.

For months the group would take up residence in the tavern. They were polite enough, rowdy on occasion, and happy to drink like they'd just survived a drought. Osferth, the elder bastard boy, would send shy eyes across the room, darting away when I looked back at him. It was hard not to preen under his sweet attention, even when other women dragged him from his table and out into the dark.

He spoke softly, never really saying much at all, but when he did speak, I found myself listening, hoping to catch the sound of his voice as I wiped down tables and cleaned up the discarded cups.

After enough push and pull, eyes meeting over crowded rooms, Osferth reached out, his fingers wrapping around the bones of my wrist as I attempted to scoot by with hands full of cups.

Shock bled over his face, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually gone through with the action, as opposed to just imagining it. But he recovered quickly, smiling up at me. My own mouth curled up at the corners. "Yes, monk?" I asked with a raised brow. If his friends noticed, they said nothing, keeping their eyes averted.

"Lady, not to insinuate anything or assume," he cleared his throat, "but might I walk you home tonight?"

My other brow rose, the two pinching in confusion. "You want to…walk me home?"

He nodded.

I glanced around the room, at his friends, at the other women I knew would jump at the opportunity. But when I looked back he still had that earnest expression on his face. "You don't seem to hurt for company. Why are you asking me?"

"It is your company I've sought for months now, I've only just worked up the nerve to say so." His hand was warm on my forearm where his fingers grasped. My eyes darted between his hand and his reddening face. It became obvious that any experience the barely-not-a-boy had was recently gained. He released me and I was surprised to find I missed the heat of his skin against mine.

"I suppose you could walk me home." My eyes fell on his friends, loud in a good natured sense and nearing drunk, their laughter carrying through the room. "If your friends decide they're ready to wrap up, that is.

Osferth turned to the Irishman, his blue eyes pleading. "Finen, if I've come to mean anything to you, you and Sihtric will go home."

"What? Now?" Finen's gaze slid between his friend and myself, narrowing and then widening again in realization. He slapped the skinny Dane on the back. "Finish up, Sihtric. Our baby monk has plans of the carnal variety."

Osferth looked as if he prayed the ground would open and swallow him whole, his mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. I just rolled my eyes and set to the task of cleaning the now sticky tables.

Half an hour crawled by and when I made my way to the door, the room was empty. Disappointment settled heavy in my gut when I realized Osferth had left with his friends. But I supposed it was for the best. There wasn't much point in getting tangled up with him anyway, even if it promised to be a good time. I had learned through my time in Rumcofa that Danes and christians were like oil and water.

I stepped out into the drizzle, the moon obscured by heavy clouds, the torches that lit the way sputtering as raindrops hit the flames. Pulling the heavy door closed behind me, I jumped when a throat cleared in the dark.

"Hel take you," I snapped, my heart thundering, my hand coming to rest over my chest as if to keep it from bursting open.

Osferth looked at the ground, biting back a grin before he glanced back up at me. His hands were clasped behind his back and for a moment he looked younger than his years, a little unsure of where we went from here. I took no mercy on him, sidestepping him as I found the path that would lead me home. When he didn't move to follow me, I looked over my shoulder before jerking my chin forward. He smiled again and jogged to meet me, his steps falling in time with mine.

The earth was damp, wet seeping into the hem of my dress as we walked up the gently rolling hill toward my home. After being so insistent on my company, Osferth was quiet, his eyes darting between me and the road ahead, his face pensive.

“You are thinking so hard I can hear it,” I teased, nudging his shoulder with my own. My house loomed before us, our walk coming to an end.

“I was just wondering…,” he trailed off.

“Wondering what?”

“If it would be alright if I came inside.” Even in the dark, with just the pale light of the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, I could see the blush that stained his cheeks.

“Are you sure you would not rather spend your evening with Gudrun?” I asked, not entirely joking. I wasn’t interested in being forgotten as soon as the sun rose, like the rumors said Osferth had a tendency to do. But there was something about this monk, this fighter, that had pulled me in since I first laid eyes on him. “She lives just over there.” I pointed to a house on our right, candlelight flickering through the window. “Or Elfreda? Her husband is still gone to Mercia. She speaks of you fondly.”

“Fond is not necessarily the word I would use, Lady.” His eyes found mine as we stopped outside my door. "I have no idea how she speaks of me. In truth, we’ve had one conversation…about her goats."

Something small and warm lit up in my chest. “You have never…?”

“Not with Gudrun or Elfreda.”

“Well that’s something, I suppose,” I said, a fragile smile curling at the edges of my mouth. “You can come in, but I will hear nothing about my heathen ways, monk.”

He grinned and it went to my head, leaving my fingertips tingling with the desire to touch him, to make him grin again. “Osferth will do, Lady. And after spending so much time with Lord Uhtred, I would never think to say a word about your ‘heathen ways’.”

I smiled back and shouldered open the door, gesturing for him to enter first. It was strange to see Osferth in my space, which was really just a large room I'd done my best to make comfortable. It held a hearth with a pot for cooking, a bed in the corner piled with furs and blankets, and a small table in the center of the room for meals. I made quick work of a fire, the sound of logs crackling filling the silence. For a man who had a tendency to blend in most places, Osferth stood out stark in the doorway. His sharp blue eyes darted around the room, taking in each detail, snagging on Frejya’s rune carved into the doorframe.

“What is this?” He asked, running a long finger over the lines. I was mesmerized by the grace of his hand, large and scarred and still so gentle as he traced over the carving.

“Fehu,” I answered, stepping up behind him, nearly close enough to touch. “Freyja is the goddess of love, but also of death and battle. She instructs us to have strength, to know our own worth. It is a reminder for me.”

He turned and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of him. A shy smile pulled at his lips and suddenly all I could think of was kissing him. I wondered if he would be any good at it or if he was as well practiced as rumors would have me believe. He cleared his throat. "It's good to believe in oneself." He raised a hand, trailing his thumb over my cheek. "What else do you believe in, Lady?" His eyes were dark, like a storm over the sea, and for a moment I forgot how to speak.

"Odin tells us to always seek knowledge."

"And Odin is like God?" He asked, his gaze falling to my mouth.

I grinned. "Yes and no. He is king of the gods, for a time. We make sacrifices to him, but also Frig, to look after our fate, and Freyr to bless our harvests, and Thor for protection. And one day Ragnarok will come and the world will be washed away to start anew."

"Like the great flood," he murmured, stepping closer. "A man was told by God to build a boat, to gather his family and two of every animal and prepare for a long journey. Then he flooded the world to give them a fresh start."

My hands rose to his chest, fingers pressing into the leather armor he wore, embossed with the shape of a cross. "I wonder how lonely it would be to be the last two people on earth. It seems like quite a responsibility."

Osferth made a low noise in the back of his throat, as if he was considering me. He stepped forward, backing me up until my legs met the table. "Lady?"

My gaze danced between his eyes and his lips, parted softly around a breath. "Yes?"

"I would like to kiss you now."

A heat rose up in me, from my fingertips and toes, melting inward, and I thought for a moment I might be glowing with it. "I think you should."

"Oh, thank Christ," he muttered, his large hands coming to cup my jaw, his lips crushing against mine. He wasn't as gentle as I had anticipated, as if he knew I wasn't gentle either and hoped to meet me in the middle.

His hands abandoned my face to grasp at my waist and heave me up onto the table before he stepped between my knees. He tasted sweeter than I imagined as I curled my hands in the blond hair at the nape of his neck, holding him to me. Wrapping me in his arms, wiry and lean, he stepped closer, pressing me back and holding me to him. If he let go I would fall.

I prayed he wouldn’t let go.

Osferth took my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down, his fingers digging into the meat of my waist and pulling himself forward into the cradle of my pelvis. I could feel him beneath the thick fabric of his robes, straining toward me. Without thought, I reached between us and cupped him, flexing my fingers around the outline of his cock, stroking and getting a feel for him. He moaned, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against mine.

“Lady.” His voice was rough in his mouth, his breath warm against my face. “Keep doing that and I won’t be able to help myself from laying you over this table.”

I nuzzled at the cut of his jawline. “Lay me down then, monk.”

His eyes were dark when he pulled back, his lips pulled into a thin line as he regarded me. He nodded, more to himself than to me, before tugging at the laces at the back of my dress. I gasped at his hidden strength, lurching forward and catching myself against his chest. He pulled the laces loose and let the sleeves fall slack, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the skin of my shoulder. I attempted to make quick work of the clasps that held his armor on, rejoicing in the thud as it hit the floor. He tore the robe he wore over his head, dropping it beside the breast plate before helping me to wriggle out of my dress. When I was bare before him, he loomed over me, and my mouth watered at the fine cut of his body. He was tall and lean, all sharp angles and hard planes, and I ached to touch every inch of him.

Osferth tugged me to the edge of the table before falling to his knees. His eyes met mine for a split second before he leaned forward and licked a stripe up the center of me. The flat pass of his tongue left me reeling and I was torn between the desire to drop back and enjoy the sensation and the need to watch him, to memorize the way he looked as he tasted me.

Rough hands spread my thighs farther apart before reaching higher, holding the very center of me open, leaving me vulnerable. Osferth groaned at the sight, a small pained sound, before leaning forward and devouring me. He was messy, spreading the slick that had gathered, moaning when his nose dragged over that tight bundle of nerves and my back bowed off the table. He slid two fingers in easily, and I dropped my head back, my hands finding his hair and tangling in the sandy strands.

"More," I gasped, biting the word out from between clenched teeth. I felt him smile against me, a slow wicked curve of his mouth, as he pressed a third finger inside and stretched me open. His lips latched on to that spot that had me crying out and it took nothing else for me to find my release, my hips bucking against his face for more even as the feeling became too much, too sharp. I twitchted and shuddered as sparks danced over my skin and still he licked and sucked at me.

My stomach tumbled over itself when Osferth rose to stand over me, my slick glistening on his chin, the light from the fire painting him beautifully.

"I think I'd like to take you to bed now, Lady," he said and held out a hand. I accepted and let him pull me to standing, his hands capturing my face as soon as my feet were steady on the floor, his mouth catching mine in a feverish kiss that I could taste myself on. "You taste divine," he murmured against my lips.

I walked backward toward the bed, pulling him with me before turning and pushing him gently back against the furs. He dropped, resting his weight on his elbows. "I think I'd like to return the favor," I mused, my eyes unable to settle, too distracted by each ripple of lean muscle as he unlaced his trousers, lifting his ass to slide them down his thighs. Light hair was dusted over his legs, shining in the glow from the hearth. He was more lovely than any of the paintings the little church in town boasted as he watched me with hooded eyes. The mattress dipped beneath my added weight as I settled between his knees, taking his cock in hand and stroking. Osferth groaned when I tightened my grip.

I took him between my lips and he moaned, his hands finding the back of my head. Our eyes met and he licked his lips, sucking in a sharp breath as I took as much of his length as I could. He tasted like salt and skin, tangy against my tongue as I twisted it around the tip of him. His hips bucked and he slid down my throat. I couldn't stop the gag the motion triggered and he groaned again at the feeling. I let him hold my head still, sliding in and out of my mouth at a languishing pace, as if he were using my body to tease himself, to take himself to that edge only to pull back at the last moment.

"God above, Lady," he grunted, trying to pull back. He caught me under the arms and dragged me up his body, his hands finding the soft flesh of my hips and belly as he kissed me deep and slow. It was an easy kiss to melt into. Osferth laid me back against the furs and settled between my thighs, the hard ridge of his cock sliding through my slit. I angled my hips upward, hoping to catch him, to pull him inside. He pushed forward just an inch, the very tip of him barely breaching me. I thought I would scream. I thought I would break apart and scatter to the winds if he didn't fill me, if he didn't move.

"Don't be cruel," I whined. Reaching up, I grabbed the cross that he wore around his neck, using the cord to pull him closer.

His hand came down on my hip as I tried to shift, to take him deeper. "Hush, Lady," he murmured. "We have all the time in the world." He pulled back, only to tease me again with the barest hitch forward.

"Osferth, please. Please, I'll do whatever you want just - gods, please, fuck me."

I didn't know if it was the whimper of his name or the begging, but without warning, he buried himself in me and I thought I would break open around him. "Christ, you're so tight," he moaned, his breath coming in pants against my temple. "Feels like I'll split you in half."

His words woke something within me, something dark and hungry. "Do it," I whispered. "Break me. Do whatever you want."

Osferth growled, the sound like some great beast, as he bent his body around mine and began to fuck me in earnest. His teeth found my shoulder and he bit down, pain blooming hot and sudden as I felt the skin split beneath his teeth. He rutted into me and I was sure I would feel him for days, sore and aching and needy for more of him.

"Lady." The word was so close to a whimper that I couldn't help the moan it pulled from my chest, the way my nails raked over the freckled skin of his back. He kissed the wound left behind by his teeth before dragging his lips over my collarbone, one large hand clutching at my breast, bringing it to his mouth to pull my nipple between parted lips. This time he bit down more gently, just a scrape of teeth against sensitive flesh.

I was close, too close to warn him, to say anything. My back arched as I clenched around him, attempting to pull him deeper, to lock him within my body and never let him part from me. "Osferth," I panted, color bursting behind my eyelids. "Osferth."

"Christ, Lady, you'll be the end of me." His hips had lost their rhythm, grinding now, searching out his own release. "I want to fill you up, to feel myself spill in you."

The idea was delicious. I twisted my legs around his slim hips, unwilling to let him go. "Yes," I whispered, meeting his darkened gaze, his mouth falling open as his brows bunched in pleasure. I would make a tea in the morning to ensure there were no consequences, but I needed this, needed him. He kissed me, his tongue tangling around mine as he came, throbbing inside me as I clutched at him. "My Lady," he whispered against my mouth and I swallowed the words to keep forever inside me.

For a moment, we just laid there, our eyes meeting, darting away, and meeting again. Osferth dragged himself from the hold of my thighs and walked to the table, grabbing the clay pitcher I'd filled with water earlier in the day. He made his way back to the bed, dribbling some water over a cloth I tossed him and gently cleaning up the mess he'd made of me. After he set the pitcher back down and dropped the ruined rag beside it, he climbed back into bed beside me, dropping a kiss against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry for this." His voice was quiet as he traced a gentle fingertip over the wound in the shape of his mouth. "It's unlike me."

"I am happy to have a reminder of what we did tonight."

His blue eyes were soft, unsure, as they met mine. He swallowed, his hand coming to cradle the curve of my jaw. "Forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, Lady, but I don't want just tonight with you."

"Forgive you?" My heart thundered in my chest, so loud I was sure he could hear it. "The whores of Rumcofa will mourn for weeks if I choose to keep you," I teased, grinning up at him.

"I think my involvement with the 'whore's of Rumcofa' has been greatly overstated," he pouted, rolling his eyes.

"Is that so?"

Osferth nodded, leaning forward to press his lips to mine. "It is."

I sighed. "I suppose you can stay then." He smiled against my mouth and something warm took root in my belly at the feeling.

He rolled on top of me fully, peppering kisses to my cheeks and neck and chest, settling his weight between my thighs as I laughed. "On my honor, Lady, you won't regret it."

#osferth x reader #osferth #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic #my fic

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liquidstar · 9 months

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i think something important we all have to remember about characters is that they are not real. but they are symbolic representations of types of humans. especially when you incorporate fantasy into the mix, where these representations become a bit less literal.

so, like, when you have characters that are immortal/ageless/reincarnations/vampires/whatever, who are, on paper, much older than they actually look... it really just comes down to "if they walk like a duck and talks like a duck, then it's probably a duck."

basically what i mean is if a character is functionally a teenager within a story, emotionally and societally and such, then for all intents and purposes they ARE a teenager. because the thing that they are coded to symbolize is a teenager. regardless of fantasy factors that dont exist in the real world. maybe the closest thing is someone who is an adult but looks young (i still get mistaken for 16, its a struggle) but thats a false equivalence, you are still an adult, you cant be coded as a teenager as if this was a story (though you can certainly be immature lol).

conversely, "1000 year old dragon lolis" are coded as children. they represent children. no matter how many spins you try to put on it, that is a symbolic representation of a child. there's a huge difference between the reality of an adult who just happens to look young, and the fantasy of a child who by some loophole can consent. because thats the intent the character was created with.

obviously im not saying this applies to ALL characters who are immortal children though. it can be used for all types of different effects, like, for example, pride in fullmetal alchemist mangahood uses this to enhance his Creepyness factor, due to the disconnect between his appearance and his demeanor. he walks like a duck but doesnt talk like a duck. there are for sure ways to do this trope that arent creepy in the other sense.

same thing goes for immortal teenagers- once you introduce a power imbalance into the mix that makes them functionally just an adult who looks young, thats when the dynamic can begin to feel creepy. and its a tricky thing to pull off, because you have to balance the immortality with the teenager-ness, and it seems like lots of life experience will often contradict the latter. but its not impossible (at least in writing). a character can be more knowledgeable without having power over the other, and i think it largely comes down to how theyre treated socially too. if they have just as much power as any other teenager in their society, then theres not really an imbalance. how theyre treated by other characters will inform the viewers on how to treat them by extension.

like, weird example, but the vampire girl from hotel transylvania (i forgot her name, i watched it when i was 12) is like 100 years older than her love interest. but shes still a pretty stereotypical teenager who has to listen to adam sandler her father, and has the same amount of power in this situation as any other teenager would. the movie sets up the leads as being on the same level socially so theres no issue (this may have been made extra clear because its a kids movie, which is why its an easy example). contrast this with twlight where edward obviously has power over bella specifically due to his vampire-ness, and thats why their dynamic is one that many people find uncomfortable because the fantasy age gap plays a part in this.

but yeah at the end of the day thats why id never, like, call c.c from code geass a pedophile for kissing lelouch (utilitarian reasons or otherwise), but that's also exactly why i'd call isekai man #208 a pedophile for having a loli love interest. these characters are not real, they are symbols. you cannot take symbols literally (thats oxymoronic) by just looking at the numbers of their ages, you have to look at what they represent of the real world inside the story. what does this fantasy immortal SAY about age and such. what do their actual dynamics reflect in the real world.

fiction isnt reality, but its a mirror that reflects it. sometimes a funhouse mirror, but you can still see whats being reflected if you look closely.

anyway please dont take this as any sort of discourse, i really am just musing about how fiction Works, and how different tropes apply in different ways and such. this isnt a response to anything or anyone im just thinking out loud. peace ✌️

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luckhissoul · 3 months

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𝟑-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒:

green

blue

red

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

some kind of expensive cologne ( like i have the idea of the scent in my head but don't know what its called lol )

faint hint of tabac smoke

a somewhat woodsy/floral-ish soap ( don't tell him it's got floral notes, he'll deny )

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍:

he wears tailored, expensive but wrinkled ( 🙄) embroidered coats. he has a very fancy blue one with a ridiculous amount of gold embroidery on the sleeves. but he's more commonly in his green coat. he can be flamboyant with his clothes. but don't tell him that.

black or gray trousers

partially unlaced ( cover yourself sir ) white shirt with a touch of lace at the collar and his cuffs

leather boots with the tops turned over

silk scarf at his neck to hide that hanging scar, don't ask him about that plz

black wide brimmed hat

and time line depending --- he wears a leather eye patch because he's missing an eye later :( poor bb

like this !!!

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒:

knives. so many knives. he wears knives tucked up his sleeves, in his boots, inside his coat, down the collar of his coat, everywhere. he never runs out of them. he's obsessed and a little paranoid here but yes knives!

his ashandarei ( this !!! )

his dice cup and his dice.

how about i mention the random ass thread that both him and rand had in their pockets at different points in these books. tf guise

various rocks that he picks up along the way. he has a rock collection. he likes their colors. don't judge him. let him live.

his signet ring that looks sorta like ( this !! )

his fox head medallion ( the aes sedai need to stop trying to steal it )

he has the dragon banner with him. he has hung it up at least once to prove a point. he's a secret rand stan but he'll never admit it. lol

his pipe ! !

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄:

relaxed, almost lazily lounging. like when he sits, back, with his boots up on something or his legs stretched out. arms behind his head.

in direction contradiction ( because he's him 🤨) nervous fidgeting, tugging and adjusting at his scarf, pacing

he's a little paranoid or just overly cautious - dependable so - constantly checking his knives under his sleeves before entering a place. always on the defense. he likes feeling that they're all there, a shrug of his shoulders to check the ones at his back.

another tick i guess - a little antsy ? toying with the dice in his pocket.

always assesses the whole room when he enters, the things and people, reading the general vibe of the whole place and the people in it. looking directly at people in the eyes or the face. so he'll know right away how to act in / handle the situation

he walks with a confidant swagger, direct, sure of himself

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒:

war : the sound of explosions, fire, ash, blood, wounded, a stitched wound, battle scars, the dead, guilt, the thrill of being alive, the banner of the band of the red hand

luck : a game of dice, gold coins, always winning, the sound of dice rolling ( plz stop it though he doesn't want to hear it in his head anymore ), crowded common room, pissing off everyone at the table

random : horses, knives, a long expanse of field,foxes, a farm ( don't send him back plz ), kids ( he loves kids sm but he won't admit that lol ), feathers ( he also had a feather collection lol ), inventions, women ( lmao ) ,fireworks, blood on his hands, regret, smoking, knife throwing, quarterstaff, maps, alcohol, a stage, ravens

tagged: @caracarnn & @adversitybloomed tagging: @agoldenlily & @xhideyourfires & @xradiant & @honorhearted & @petitsdieu & @laviexenrose & @lovepurposed & @cannotfly & @bas0rexias & @lunarruled

#;it's time to toss the dice ;; musings #( why did this take me so long tf #long post for ts #i did more than five on some lol

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cuddleyhoney · 9 months

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Hi, I have no idea if there is already something similar. If you have time, would you write something? John meets a supposedly simple woman (Viggo Tarasov's daughter) while shopping, she loses a necklace. John brings her the necklace home.

Kind of like love at first sight. Maybe some fluff😅

lost and found love

john wick x mysterious woman lol au fluff

The bustling city streets were alive with the hum of activity as John walked through the crowd, his keen eyes scanning his surroundings with practiced precision. He had retired from his life as an assassin, seeking a sense of normalcy that had long eluded him. Today, he found himself wandering through a high-end boutique, his attention drawn to an elegant display of jewelry.

Amidst the glinting gems and delicate chains, his gaze inadvertently locked onto a woman who seemed out of place in the opulent surroundings. She was exquisitely beautiful, with an air of innocence that contradicted the sophistication of the boutique. Her chestnut hair cascaded in loose waves, framing a face that held a hint of vulnerability.

As if sensing his gaze, the woman turned and their eyes met. John felt an unexpected jolt of something he hadn't felt in years – a connection, a spark. He quickly averted his gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't used to feeling this way, not since the tragic loss of his beloved wife.

The woman was none other than Meena Tarasova, the daughter of Viggo Tarasov, a powerful figure from his past life. Meena had grown tired of the lavish lifestyle her father's connections provided, seeking solace in the anonymity of the city. She appreciated the simple things, like wandering through shops and buying her own clothes without an entourage.

While browsing the store, Meena realized with a sudden feeling of panic that her cherished necklace was no longer around her neck. Her heart sank as she retraced her steps, growing more anxious with each passing moment. It wasn't just a necklace; it held sentimental value that transcended material worth.

In her frenzied search, Meena collided with someone, almost falling over. She looked up, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw the familiar face – the man from the boutique, the one who had been watching her. "I'm so sorry," she stammered.

John's gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, and without a word, he bent down and picked up a delicate chain from the ground. It was her necklace, the missing piece. Meena's eyes widened in disbelief and gratitude as he handed it to her. "Thank you," she whispered.

Days turned into weeks, and their chance encounter became more profound. They found solace in each other's presence, a refuge from their complicated pasts. Once a backdrop of chaos and violence, the city transformed into a canvas for a different kind of story – one of healing and connection.

With every passing day, John and Meena's bond grew stronger. They discovered common interests, shared laughter, and built a foundation of trust that neither had thought possible. Love, like a fragile bud, began to bloom between them, its presence undeniable yet unspoken.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, John walked Meena back to her apartment. They stood on the threshold, their eyes locking once again. "Thank you for bringing back my necklace," Meena said softly, her gaze filled with a mixture of gratitude and something more.

John reached out, his fingers gently lifting her chin. Their lips met in a tentative kiss, a fusion of two souls who had found solace in each other's presence. In that moment, the weight of their pasts seemed to fade away, replaced by the promise of a new beginning.

my second request lolsies! please let me know if u like this guys :>

#john wick x y/n #john wick x reader #keanu reeves #john wick au #fanfic #john wick imagine #john wick headcanons #john wick #john wick fanfic

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anameistoohard · 2 months

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Can you be a system with only two alters? Also, can you be one if you start having headmates later in your life?

I often write a character who consists of two headmates, let's call them A (he/him or he/they) and B (it/its or zie/hir). The main problem with calling them a system is the fact that they were seperate people and started sharing a body because of magic. So I'm not sure if calling them a system would be ableist or derespectful.

I also write them to switch pretty fast and I'm afraid it's not accurate.

When A is in charge he is doing the talking while B can hear him and talk to him with its thoughts but not talk aloud itself. Same goes for when B is in charge. Also, both B and A have different walking patterns, facial expressions and slightly different accents, to the point in which A's sister can tell them apart.

So, can I call them a system if they got like this with magic later in their life or would that be disrespectful or ableist?

(Disclaimer: We are not an authority, we're just some person on the internet. And we certainly don't speak for all systems)

Maybe gonna give you a little whiplash from that disclaimer, but yes, absolutely, 100% of the time, a system can have only two alters. Anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong and you shouldn't listen to them lol.

As for developing a system later in life. That's a little more tricky because I want to paint you a full picture.

From a medical perspective, the most universally accepted theory is that it forms in early childhood in response to trauma and can't form later in life. However, there is no definitive proof that's how systems form, or that it's the only way they can form for that matter.

From a more anecdotal perspective, many people claim their system formed later in life. Some even say they created theirs on purpose.

In my personal opinion, I think the medical community is missing the forest for the trees. After all, autism used to "only effect young boys". And "only dysphoric people could be trans". I think it's absurd to think all those people contradicting the science are wrong when the fact of the matter is that it's still a developing field of study.

I don't see anything wrong with calling them a system. "System" isn't a medical diagnosis, it's a state of being. If they function as a system... then they're a system lol. The only thing I'd maybe be mindful of is how you share your story with people. If you say "This is a story about a system." It's a bit more like "This is a story about a system*..... *Created through magical means."

Kinda like, the difference between a gender bender and a story about a trans person.

Oh! Also maybe avoid calling them alters since they're literally different people, not alternate identity states.

For us, sometimes switches happen without us noticing, sometimes it literally happens in the blink of an eye, but sometimes it takes a few minuets, or even several hours. Fast switching is fine in your story, but if you want to mix things up, maybe make it relatable to more people, don't have them switch the same way every time. Maybe when they're stressed it's harder to switch on command and they need to calm themself down first, or something happens that triggers one of them to front (It doesn't need to be a bad thing, it could be simple like being given B's favorite food causing it to front. Or A hates a song so much he gets pulled to front so he can turn the music off.)

Again, we also can communicate like that and perceive the world "through each other's eyes" (it's called co-con/co-conscious) but sometimes it's harder than others.

Different gaits, facial expressions, and accents are all stuff we have. To us they feel obvious, but no one's commented on the differences except for some words or phrases specific alters use. Most of us can also mask making it even harder for people to tell us apart. I'd imagine your characters would have a hard time masking at first, but maybe with time they could learn to mimic each other's behavior.

...It took long enough to write this we switched part way through ^_^'

#ask #w-writing advice?#our dyslexic ass giving writing advice???

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skania · 10 months

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ONK Replies #4

If you've sent me an Anonymous message these past two weeks and I haven't replied to it yet, it should be here!

On a related note, unless it's something I've been meaning to talk about, I'm taking a break from replying to anon messages about Aqua/Kana because it's just not what I'm here for 😭 I don't want my blog to focus on the things I dislike about a ship I don't ship, I'd rather it be focused on the things I love about the ship I do ship.

Off we go!

Hi anon! No, I don't think Kana is the only light for Aqua. I agree with you, I think Kana is "light" in general and not Aqua's light specifically, I actually think she's meant to be "Everyone's Heroine" much like Fujiwara was in Kaguya.

Yes anon, it's in Chapter 98.

Hi anon! It's as Kana explains it:

Himekawa wasn't trying to outshine anyone, he was acting the way any lead actor would. Akane deliberately outshone everyone in order to draw Kana out of her shell, but it has the opposite result because Akane stands out so much that Kana automatically falls into her self-appointed role of "coordinator".

The way I saw it, it's because he was thinking of doing something (revealing Ai's secret) for someone else's sake (to save Kana). Since his actions are not (purely) motivated by negative emotions like revenge, his star briefly turns white. One of Ruby's stars goes white in that same chapter for the same reasons.

To be clear, Aqua was going to reveal Ai's secret regardless, it was part of his plan. But the timing of the reveal was for Kana's sake.

I mean, the manga does go out of its way so we'll pity Kana, but it's used for comic relief just like Maki's self-inflicted suffering in Kaguya. The comment you read comes from someone who seems to expect OnK to be written like a shoujo, but it isn't supposed to be one lol

No, I don't think Aka will go down the incest route. He will definitely have fun with it before he shoots it down, though 😂

I think that acknowledging the contradictions would mean acknowledging Akane is more important to Aqua than they'd like to admit and/or believe, so it's easier to just not do it. Ironically, one could try to justify all of this by saying that Aqua just can't help himself: he comes up with excuses to stay near Kana but is perfectly capable of staying away from Akane.

...Except Aqua stayed away from Kana from an entire year, meanwhile with Akane he caved in and went to see her within 3/4 months of claiming he would have nothing to do with her 😂

I'm glad it made sense to you anon! I honestly also felt like something clicked in my brain when I read that take 😂 It explains why Aqua's reaction is so subdued, why there is no focus given to it at all and just as you say, it also explains why Crow Girl just describes Kana as the girl who loves Aqua.

Honestly, I'm always trying to stay as cautious as possible, but by this point I do think it's Akane. I'm just waiting for the upcoming chapters to either confirm or deny it. So, all we can do for now is cross our fingers so that Aka takes this where we think it's going! lol

To be fair, Aqua and Kana are a pretty inoffensive ship all in all, so it's not hard to see why people ship them. I personally don't ship them because I find them boring and underdeveloped, but that's just a matter of taste 😂

I can see why you feel that way! I'm not sure I see Akane as someone who is in the dark, but that may just be me. I think she is someone who can go there if she has to, but it isn't her normal disposition. She was willing to walk with him in the darkness if that's what it took, and now she is ready to do what it takes to pull him out of it.

So if Aqua and Akane are endgame, they'll be endgame because Akane has seen and been there for Aqua at his lowest and she has loved him and offered him solace through all of it.

Hi anon, thank you!! I think it's a bit different. With Ai, he "superimposed" Sarina onto her because Ai was walking the road Sarina wanted to walk, it had little to do with the kind of person Ai was. With Kana, it's the opposite. I feel like Aqua thought 'Yes, she can be the kind of idol Sarina-chan wanted to be.'

Since Kana can be the kind of idol Sarina wanted to be (an honest one), Aqua likely felt that Kana could give Ruby (Sarina) the right example and lead her on the right path to become the (pure, honest) idol she's meant to be.

Aqua didn't really need to project Sarina's dreams onto Ruby because Ruby had the same dreams herself. If anything, I think Aqua was waging a war on himself all along, because he did see Ruby as Sarina and blamed himself for it, thinking that he was only seeing what he wanted to see and that there was no way something that good could happen to him.

So all Aqua really had to do was watch over Ruby (Sarina) so she would fulfill her dream.

"I don't know how you feel, but I'm here to listen" I love that! I think you're both right: Kana's intention was to empathize with Aqua and to offer him comfort, but she missed the mark. I think Kana's aim was to say I've lost people too and I know it hurts, your pain must be so much worse though. Don't downplay it! The problem is that she gets carried away in her own feelings, so the conversation immediately stops revolving around Aqua and his pain to revolve around her.

So while she meant well, this interaction does end up being an example of one of the fundamental problems I have with their dynamic. It's way too Kana-focused. We see Kana's fantasies about Aqua, how she depends on him, that she wants to be his idol, etc. We've seen Aqua saving Kana, but even when she makes the effort to try and comfort him, he ends up comforting her instead lol It's not balanced at all, for me at least.

#onk asks convos #me: aqua and kana #not tagging this as aquakane meta because there isn't enough of that here lol

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melrosing · 6 months

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I really appreciate your insight on Jaime, so I thought I’d might ask something that’s been puzzling me for a while about his endgame.

One of the most common predictions for Jaime is that he ends up at the Night’s Watch, possibly as its 1000th commander. While there’s certainly some foreshadowing for it, I struggle to think of a reason for the Night’s Watch to exist after the Wall falls and the Others die. What do you make of this? Do you think that Jaime could end up at the Wall?

Btw, sorry for the nasty anon messages. You’re super cool and I love your art <3

thank u so much!! and genuine lol @ the anon messages like imagine launching a personal attack because someone said Arya likes adventure you can't make this shit up 😭

I have heard this theory and I'm not a fan bc I just.... don't really enjoy reading about the night's watch/the wall/beyond the wall etc etc so ideally my fave's endgame would not be there of all places but I kind of see where the theory comes from. I don't think it's foreshadowed so it's not something that worries me but these are like my sparknotes on it.

the night's watch may well still exist even when the Wall does not; I think in Jon's story we see both the good and the bad of the NW, and what's contradictory between each. I think the primary contradiction of the NW oath is that they swear to 'guard the realms of men' whilst guarding against those who live beyond the wall. Jon's story highlights the hypocrisy in this, and I think the end of the story will be about Jon and the NW finding a new purpose in embracing the world and peoples beyond the wall as part of Westeros, helping them rebuild, keeping them safe, etc. the good that does exist in the NW can be put to real use, in a way that serves everyone. I can really see the story pointing that way for both Jon and the NW as an institution

Jaime meanwhile.... I guess the only foreshadowing I can think of is that Ned suggested after Jaime killed Aerys that he be sent to the Wall, but Jaime remained in the KG, a supposedly 'perfect institution'. comparably, the NW is famously made up of 'less than perfect' men, who enter it from all walks of life. and there's a consistent, underlying contrast between the KG and the NW - the KG in their gleaming white cloaks and the NW in their blacks, and the truth being that the KG is the corrupt institution whilst the NW (not without problems of its own) is the one with the ultimately selfless objective and that exists for the common good. and the NW is also considered a kind of atonement. so sure, there's some poetry in Jaime shifting from one to the other

there are also many interesting parallels between Jon and Jaime, particularly as lord commanders of their respective institutions - it's a fun exercise in compare and contrast. again probably a whole other post but if AFFC and ADWD were combined in one book I think these points would seem a lot more obvious

however, I don't see Jaime becoming the Lord Commander of the NW - as he has no history in the watch, it would be probably a bit insulting for Jaime to take immediate charge of the whole thing - it should really be someone with that history for it to resonate for both the NW itself and the reader. I think it'll be Jon, i.e. that he'll leave Winterfell to become the LC again OR they just won't have an LC, they'll revise the structure of the whole institution

do I think Jaime will end up at the Wall?? I guess not really?? I think his story is just so far removed from anything beyond the wall and the Night's Watch itself that it just feels too mismatched. all the key plots and characters he's tied up with are and always have been based in the south, so throwing him in the NW would feel to me a bit out of left field. ultimately I wouldn't hate the idea of Jaime rebuilding with the wildlings and kind of committing to a humbler good than worrying about a grander legacy. and it's more of an open ending than death, in that supposedly he wouldn't have to swear the same dehumanising oaths (re. personal freedoms) as the existing NW - you'd hope that when they're rebuilding from scratch they kind of. loosen up on that shit. so the idea that even if Jaime spent the bulk of his time there he's not cut off entirely from Brienne, Tyrion etc (it's not an ending I like for Brienne either but who knows maybe she'd join him). but yeah idk I'm just not a huge fan of Jaime beyond the wall. maybe I could come round to it but you know. eh

#jaime lannister #asoiaf #ask

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ywhiterain · 8 months

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4x08

Elena being Damon’s lapdog just seriously upsets Caroline. Its also interesting Elena digs her nails into Damon’s back but it’s not to get at blood. Visually with Caroline’s words it feels more like the real Elena is fighting to get from beneath Damon.

Elena does argue a bit with Damon, which is nice to see, even if she agrees with Damon’s request to keep it a secret for one day.

Lol I just can’t deny that I like Caroline judging Bonnie and Shane too. Because while I do like that we get to see Bonnie develop at least a little with Shane, he is creepy.

Stefan is a little bitchy about the sire bond, but he walks it back.

How is Stefan ready to see war and death if he can’t even look at little bit of blood? Lexi’s plan seems a little premature, but I suppose it worked.

Alpha Tyler is hot.

Sry Damon, Elena’s factory settings are hers, team Stefan or not. So Stefan’s still right even if his motives aren’t completely selfless.

Lol Tyler did not hate Klaus until Klaus told him to bite Caroline.

Submit or you die is totally a Klaus ultimatum. But I do dig Tyler getting darker. I wish we got more on the pack he built before they were slaughtered.

Stefan having faith in Damon that’s totally undeserving of is.. like them to a T.

Sorry don’t feel bad for Damon. I do feel bad for Elena because she’s so sure, but they never let her unpack what was real and what was the sire bond, so yeah I think Damon should have freed Elena even though it wasn’t what she wanted.

One of TVD’s strengths imo is that they let the characters feel their way around the world building instead of dumping it, but it’s pretty obvious the lore isn’t fixed on the writers floor making retcons and contradictions with the lore.

Which I don’t care about normally, leaves room for lots of interpretations, but when we bring in someone loosing their free will to a serial rapist- it’s not a line tvd is good enough to walk.

#the vampire diaries #elena gilbert #anti delena #anti Damon #rape cw

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ihopesocomic · 1 year

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Tbh I wish Proud was less of an asshole to justify his "It's just what a mane has to do to survive", to show how patriarcal societies, while much more opressive towards females than to males, are still toxic to men.

There is just no nuance. Every male is a sexist (sometimes homophobic because we can't have a story about LGBT+ characters without homophobia🙄) piece of shit who really loves Pride law even though it forces them to leave their homes and family to a world who gets harder to survive thanks to the longer dry season (Which is supposed to be happening but we don't see any evidence of it 🙄🙄🙄) , and gives a higher success rate to those who are monstruous enough to kill Fathers and their children.

I guess his name is a good indicator of how much he is practically the living incarnation of Pride Law (His name is fucking PROUD), which could just be a really bad way to show that he's Lite, but I dunno, I feel like it would be much better if the show made him more of a morally gray character to show how destroying the patriar- I mean Pride Law would be better not just for lionesses, but for manes as well.

I suppose what I want is Proud to be completely transformed into a whole new character because this dude right now is just the walking and talking embodiment of everything wrong in MP's world and I think that's boring.

Ugh you have no idea how much I agree with you on how this show was a completely missed opportunity to show how the patriarchy negatively affects men and it's perpetuation just further hurts the future generation, even if people can sit down and think about it and agree with how it's harmful. But then again it was a missed opportunity for many things, and considering how much this show revels in demonizing its male characters no matter how little sense it makes, I can't say that I would've expected them to handle such a complicated topic with any ounce of sensitivity.

One of Proudmane's biggest problems is he's just Quickmane But Worse™ so Quickmane could've easily just existed on his own as being the talking embodiment of everything wrong in MP's world. And Proud should have been something different, to present the opposite side of Pride Law of someone who isn't Fire, someone who's been out on their own for longer and the consequences of that. But he's not, he's exactly the same as Quickmane, right down to having the same exact purpose to his entire existence lol

Proudmane's other problem is, they literally set him up to be sympathetic right after setting him up to be an asshole, only to make him become an asshole in the end anyway (which begun the 'Quickmane may be ableist but he's better because he's not homophobic' conversation lol)

Even then the whole "Its just what a mane has to do to survive" is not only debunked by what we see with our own eyes in the previous episode, which is that he was in a big group of males and eating well, which even according to Fire was a good ol time. The statement is also directly contradicting what he did... seconds beforehand. Which was... what was it... oh yeah threatening to kill Nothing, who wasn't a hinderance on his survivability lol Pretty sure killing cubs is also not a hinderance to his survivability, since 1) This aspect of Pride Law isn't exactly reinforceable, and 2) This particular pride has no qualms about accepting a mane who doesn't kill babies, case in point, uh...... the first fucking episode.

That whole scene in episode 5 annoys me for a variety of reasons lol like Proud having a literal debate with Nothing about why he should kill her, when he could. I dunno. Just do it.

But let's pretend for a moment that being a no-mane/prideless (is there really a difference here? Do we really need two different words for males and females? lol I hate the word 'no-mane' it's so dumb) in this universe is as bad as everyone says it is. Let's pretend that being prideless is closer to being a death sentence.

We could've had first-hand insight into a typical male lion's life in this world. From learning that their father murdered someone else's father, and children, in order to have a pride (and that the feelings of the pride itself on the matter is irrelevant to one's own survival). The near-constant fear knowing that one day that same thing could happen to you and your siblings and father, and knowing one day he's going to have to do the same. Being raised to believe he's worthless unless he gains control of a pride, taught to treat lionesses like they're inferior. The traumas of being forced to leave his home, and be subjected to starvation and facing other dangers alone, and how being alone can seriously impact a social creature's mental health. But he believes that in order to survive he has to be just as horrible as everyone else, and his justification is Pride Law and survival. In order to live, you have to exploit everyone's weaknesses, because it's for your own good. And then he's going to raise his children the same way. Not only showing the cycle in real time, but that also could've shown that Pride Law doesn't in fact benefit males like everyone is told it does, and that in many instances they're victims of the system as well, just differently.

And that's where you'd bring in Fire or Feather to be his foil, to show no, you don't have to be awful in order to survive, and you should reject everything about Pride Law. (And Nothing could raise Feather that way, and/or Fire could come to his own conclusions since he was allowed to live in the first place, but only because his sister went against Pride Law from the start, and he either didn't think it an option to do so, or felt too scared to do it himself. Him being alive to this day should allow him to have new perspectives on Pride Law. Either way Nothing's sole duty was to end Pride Law, but the writers don't permit her to succeed lol)

But nah, its more dramatic and therefore more entertaining if you just have your villain be a homophobic sexist prick that the show tries gaslighting you into feeling bad for. Instead of having the villain be the patriarchy, it's just men who are the villains lol And if you're a nice guy, you die, sorry.

As a super huge lesbian, man-hating (intentional or otherwise) is not the progressive messaging people think it is. - Cat

#ask

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yandere-daze · 2 years

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Hey again! I was the one who sent that long ask about making a one shot for the self aware!enstars au—

Firstly, don’t worry I understand it takes time to write something! I’d rather prefer quantity over quality and to be frank, not a lot of people consider the fact that writing fanfics can be kinda hard lol…so don’t worry about it, take your time!

Aside from that, while reading your response, and hearing your own thoughts on the entire yandere genre, I had some of my own and to expand on my idea specifically: like you said, realistically if it were to happen, no one would rush to assume “OMG these little pixels are obsessed over me!!!” I think everyone would just assume it’s some crazy cool easter egg and start bragging about it to their friends haha

But…imagine actually thinking that. For real—I had an idea around it, mostly around the reader, but imagine MC knowing it’s bad. Really, terribly, bad.

It’d play out like, “crap…am I being stalked?” You turn around and see a figure just behind you, only to quickly vanish as soon as you turned. “No, I’m seeing things. It’s the stress. It’s getting to me. I’m making myself delusional. I’m crazy.” You keep repeating this to yourself 5x a day. But there’s this feeling in your gut, brewing inside of you, telling you it’s not you.

This IS your reality, you’re being pursed. It’s not safe. It’s dangerous. But its incredibly hard to believe that, mainly because you’re in an entirely different world. I mean, where the hell are you right now? Are you sure this is your body?

It’d be hard to have one rational thought without being bombarded with even more paranoia. And once the cogs start turning, that logical part of you, it’s a complete contradiction! You’d only berate yourself, say it was unintentional. That person you THINK you saw, you remember them being nice to you earlier. They were helping you around school and making sure you were alright. You can’t just accuse them of stalking you…yet the thought of it makes you itchy. It makes your palms sweaty and keeps you up at night.

So what do you believe? What do you do? How do you cope?

Welcome back and thank you for your understanding! There was a time back when I started out with my blog and I tried to do at least 1 request every day, many of them being scenarios, that I very much regret now. I felt that putting so much emphasis on doing something every day, even if I wasn't feeling like doing it, just for the sake of pushing out content was very much unhealthy both for myself and my creativity. So at the moment I try to only write when I actually want to because not only does it prevent me from burning out too much, but I feel like you can also see if the author had fun writing something and coming up with cool ideas or if they forced themselves to just write something

Right now, I'm probably more active than any other time before and that's because I'm just so happy about being able to talk about an au I really enjoy and to also talk to you guys and listen to your own ideas! It's the type of interaction I feel like I have been missing for some time now so it always makes me feel excited when I see a new ask in my inbox😊

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, stalking

To move back to your ask, yes you're absolutely right! You wouldn't think that these game characters are in love with you so there would definitely be a good amount of denial on your end. Surely, this can't actually be real? Maybe you just fell asleep in a train and that's how you now found yourself in a completely foreign environment?

But deep down, you would feel that something is wrong, that there's something you're missing and you just can't help but notice that some of the surroundings suspiciously look similar to the ones you saw as backgrounds ingame.

And then there's the pairs of eyes you can sense looking at you no matter where you go. Several times you have tried to carefully glance over your shoulder, only to find no one there. Sometimes, when you walk home late at night, you could swear you could hear a separate pair of footsteps closely behind you, making you pick up your pace before you're outright sprinting home, immediately slamming the door closed once you're safely inside your house. You pull down the blinds and draw the curtains closed because there's a part of your mind that tells you that they still followed you to your doorstep, that you've been watched in your sleep many times before by them and that they won't stop no matter what.

It's terrifying because you instinctively know that there is someone stalking you, sometimes even catching glimpses of their hair when they went to hide behind a corner a little to late. It drives your crazy because you know that they look familiar, like someone you have met before. And yet, the logical part of your mind tells you that it couldn't possibly be true. How likely is it that a video game character is obsessed with you and stalks you? Are you really sure about this or are you just imagining things?

Maybe the only way to know for sure is to set up secret security cameras outside your house to catch your supposed stalker in the act. But you hesitate. Do you really want to know? Do you want the the undeniable proof that you're in danger because of someone you thought you could trust?

#anon ask #self aware au #ensemble stars self aware au #yandere self aware au #yandere self aware ensemble stars au #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #yandere ensemble stars #yandere enstars #yandere ensemble stars x reader #gn reader #enstars #ensemble stars #yandere #cw yandere #cw stalking #cw obsession #yandere x reader

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volskayadottxt · 1 year

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okay so like this is just my Train Of Thought but im not as shaken up by todays news as i thought id be. for a few reasons, i think:

im a different person than i was in 2019

i have a better understanding of how games are made

story mode is still in tact which is what i wanted

i have my phd to finish lol

as far as seasonal content goes im p happy w the game

i play the game more competitively now and ive noticed it changed my relationship w pve

it mostly just sucks to think abt all the contradictions that lead up to this. i think we all agree ow2 was announced way too early in a confusing and unclear way, and i blame abk corpos for that. but i also cant help but feel jeff kaplans vision was doomed from the start. in hindsight, talent trees for every new hero means 40+ new abilities every 4 months. that scope isnt possible without an army.

hero missions were also rly poorly defined from the start. it seems like they wanted to make 100s of handcrafted non-canon missions to grind out progression, which again, huge scope problem. even under the BEST conditions (which we all know isnt the case at blizzard--again abk corpos) that would be a pipe dream. thats just... a decade worth of work.

then kaplan takes off, and so does a lot of senior leadership w him. new team 4 leadership were given a shitty situation and had to pick up the pieces. if anything, im most upset abt all the stuff being vaulted, years of work gone bc of mismanagement on the directorial and executive level. as dumb as it sounds idk if we would have even had an ow2 with kaplan in the drivers seat.

i suppose there are lessons to be taken from this, but idk if the ppl who theyre most relevant for will take them. kaplans team tried to make titan not once but twice, and if the rumors ive heard are true its possible theyre trying a third time at a secret startup studio. maybe the best thing to do is to just let it go. koticks a ceo hes fucking clueless and should take a long walk off a short pier.

that being said: ill always be a little sad for what we couldve had, but im also excited for what we are getting and im a lot happier w current leadership on team 4. really excited abt the lore codex, shorts, new (peruvian) support, the tank who is probably mauga, dndwatch, hero mastery systems, etc etc. sad that stuff got overshadowed today.

#laurencedottxt

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anthromimicry · 13 days

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alright, but i shall be posting more in-depth information about misao later, but here's a little headcanon about her: misao is indeed licensed as both a psychiatrist AND an art therapist, though she hasn't really gotten the chance to solely practice art therapy — seeing as arkham itself is an institution that is mainly based around talk therapy and... well, pharmacotherapy, though to a degree that it is unfortunately very corrupt and harmful to its patients. but misao herself often implements the things she learned while she was studying to become an art therapist into her psychotherapy, and she will almost always offer art supplies to her patients when she sees them.

this is because misao herself would argue that it could provide her with a visual representation of some feelings that they may have trouble articulating through words, or simply don't want to say aloud, which would more helpful in allowing her to best treat her patients than just talking to them. and i think i mentioned this in my doc, but that seems to make her kind of confusing in a way. because on one hand, it appears as if misao actually DOES care about the people that come into her office, but then she'll turn around and go do something as horrific as eat them so... you know 😬 misao herself comes off as kind of a walking contradiction BUT another thing about her is, she has this subconscious want to be loved by others and thus, i feel as if even if she might not actually care about her patients — misao does try pretty damn hard to look like it and not just to ' blend in, ' but in hopes that she will successfully charm people and have them speak only good things of her.

sooo yeah,, she is kind of a cake inside of a cake whenever it comes to how many layers there is to her LOL however, you absolutely do NOT want to mistake misao's desire to get people to like her as her having a high tolerance for any kind of digs made at her or aggressive behavior done towards her; and perhaps even behavior that could be misunderstood as negative. because trust me when i say that misao turns into a whole nother person whenever she feels as if she has been treated unfairly / insulted and this is when it seems like her quote unquote ' true colors ' most commonly reveal themselves. other than when others try to make an effort to restrict her freedom in any way, as that is very much a sore spot for her because as a child, although i will once again say that it was no one's fault... misao felt like she could never do anything for herself because she always had to put ryuuji's needs above her own and she only got to experience feeling ' liberated ' whenever she went out on her own.

but yeah. this is also something that is VERY rare for misao to do, but with one or two patients through the years... she has trusted them enough to hold the tarantula she keeps in the terrarium in her office as a sort-of abnormal attempt at pet therapy? so there's also that JSJSJ and yes, she does keep a terrarium in her office that's filled with a bunch of different insects (,: there has yet to be a rule in arkham that says a psychiatrist can't so i guess she figured, if she could do it, then why not... am i right? so, as for those who have characters who are patients in arkham that also have arachnophobia, you mayyy not want to make them look too closely at her terrarium ahahhhh. and this seems like a good stopping point so i'm just gonna leave you with that thought ☠️

#ALL POWER DEMANDS PAIN AND SACRIFICE: musings.#SOMETIMES AGAINST ALL LOGIC WE HOPE: headcanons.#NO SLEEP OF THE INNOCENT. NOT FOR YOU: character study.#she is kind of an oddball overall whenever you compare her to the other arkham doctors but... then again #you've got to remember that misao is a LITERAL spider 💀 so she's naturally a bit detached from being human? i guess you could say??#yeah i think that's a good way of putting it ahahahh though it's also a bit sad whenever you think about it #tw: cannibalism.

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