#This was the set I made when fading in and out of unconsciousness btw

[blighted-elf]

Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines scenery - Downtown 2/?

#Vampire the Masquerade #VTMB #Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines #VtM #Vamily #vgscnery #gamingscenery #vgedit #dailyvideogames #dailygaming #Blighted Gifs #Throws a set of 4 barely moving gifs at u all #This was the set I made when fading in and out of unconsciousness btw

[farewell-superiors]

I’m having so many thoughts about @ammstify’s persona 6 idea for it being about nature and being based on Arthurian legend but as more of a spin-off but I’m in the “pacing while brainstorming” phase which means that I have too much energy to sit down and actually write down my ideas so I may as well start a post that’s like… just a bunch of ramblings about ideas. Have so at least it’s WRITTEN DOWN and I won’t forget anything. If I think enough I might even make a fanfic in the style of steal the truth (which you should absolutely read btw it’s genuinely one of the best video game adaptations with how well it integrates persona’s calendar mechanic and social links into its story structure) but that would require a lot of foresight and planning (hence why u want to WRITE SHIT DOWN)

Anyway here goes. Spoilers for something that I just made up but might make into an actual thing in the future I guess lol

The themes are about growth (there's LOTS of plant imagery), moving on, and how it gets better (the sun will always rise, darkest before dawn, etc. (there's a lot of day/night imagery as well)), and it looks at the relationship between humans and the environment.

The setting will probably be Kyoto, or at least some city, but I'm undecided about whether the characters are high school or uni students. Both have their pros and cons and I just have to figure them out. I'm leaning towards Uni?

The actual persona elements take place in the sea of souls, although it's more accurate to say the field of souls, as it's an undending field of grass, flowers, and the odd tree/hill, with every bit of flora representing a life. Select people will travel to the sea of souls in their sleep, but sleeping in the sea of souls won't get you out, so if someone is there without a way out, it looks like they're in a coma. If they happen to die in there (haven't completely figured out shadow mechanics yet, don't know if day/night cycles in the sos would be over a few weeks (to represent the collective unconscious) or over a characters journey (because it's cool imagery)) the body will start growing vines and leaves as their pulse slowly fades.

One way to get out is through the velvet room: In the sea of souls there is a battlefield, with velvet blue warbanners rising amongst the bloodstained foliage, and in the centre is a familiar long nosed man sitting on a particularly comfy looking rock, with a warrior clad in a deep blue leather armour brandishing a spear and shield. As neither protagonist is a wild card (whoops spoiler) Igor doesn't act as the guy who fuses your personas, he's like a guide both through your journey and on your way back to the real world. Maybe belladonna and nameless are also there, who knows.

Persona users have a body part wrapped in foliage, vines, flowers, and the like (the location can be thematic, it’s as if wrapped in chains), and when summoned the foliage chains break and rapidly grow into the summoned persona.

Protag A (who I shall refer to as Sun because that’s their arcana) is a kind young man who was diagnosed with cancer. This diagnosis comes shortly after moving to a new city to start university, so he rightly is in a lot of turmoil and feeling alone. One of the way he copes is by having a fairly dark cynical sense of humour, contrasting with his kind and caring personality. I’m not set on a subject he does, I’m thinking natural sciences, it’s got a wide range of topics and, most importantly, MATHS (this isn’t a joke). His starting persona is Arthur, his second awakening is Arturus Rex, both of the sun arcana, and his ultimate persona is Excalibur, of the world arcana.

Protag B (who I shall refer to as Moon) is a standoffish young woman in the year above sun. An abuse survivor, her father (her only living relative) recently was jailed for what he did, but she still holds a deep contempt for humanity who she thinks has failed her. Initially forced to interact with sun because of a scheme where second years help first years, she stays with him because of a shared goal once they enter the sea of souls. Her story arc is about growing to care for others, learning to see the good in people, and stopping seeking revenge. Her starting persona is Lancelot, who evolves into white knight, both of the moon arcana, and her ultimate persona is Galahad of the world arcana (I’m intentionally hiding some things but oh well lol. The personas are thought out, I’ll tell you that).

I’ve not settled on social links or party members, I’ve got a few ideas, like Sun’s maths professor (who would either be magician or hierophant) and the Lovers arcana, but nothing concrete.

Getting into real endgame spoilers now, the premise is that two gods, Pendragon and Morgan le Fay, are arguing over whether humanity should suffer or not. Pendragon thinks they're a stain on the world and should be wiped out, while Morgan le Fay thinks they should live in eternal bliss. Given that the themes are about moving on and growing, neither is very good, or rather, life is a combination of the two. They're represented by the moon and the sun in the sea of souls, when Pendragon is "winning" it's night, when Morgan is "winning" it's day. towards the end of the story the party beats Pendragon without realising that now Morgan le Fay is able to act unchecked and so the regular course of life grinds to a halt. During the course of the story each protagonist holds one in themself, Moon with her contempt for humanity holds pendragon, and Sun with his wish to live with his friends forever holds Morgan, but once Moon starts to see the good in humanity her mind boots out pendragon (hence why they fight him), and once Sun accepts that a life in stagnation isn't a life living at all, his mind boots out Morgan (hence why they fight her). Basically, I really really really like the ideas of third semester and am doing something similar lol.

At the start Sun and Moon are visited by a Doctor informing him of his cancer diagnosis and a chief prosecutor "congratulating" her about her father's loss in court respectively. Both talk about their fascination with/contempt of humanity, and end with "do you agree?", a cloaked agreement to a contract that makes them their champion, for these are Morgan le Fay and Pendragon in human forms. A side effect of tricking them into agreeing to a contract, however, is letting them into the velvet room, a mistake that would lead to both of the gods' downfall.

Ah shit I haven't even tackled how dungeons and stuff work. I know at least the last one is gonna be called Avalon.

I think I'm just gonna go ahead and post this for now, I might edit it later so uhhh stay tuned I guess

#Don't know what I'd call it though #Persona Green???? #lmao #Actually remember “the green man” as that's an actual thing from folklore that'd work really well #Persona #Now I just need to think of names for everyone lmao #persona au #ocs #Oh also I don't know if this is obvious but #uhhhh #pendragon is a literal dragon LMAO #I know that's just arthur's last name but I really want a dragon final-ish boss soooooooo #fuck off

[stickyy]

could i get a reader x ururaka where the reader kidnaps her and forcibly 'protects' her by coddling her and keeping her in a soft room with everything she could need and not letting her leave, even if it means restraining, or even injuring her? tysm! i'm really looking forward to seeing your blog grow! (btw if you cant/dont want to write ururaka, midoriya or shinso are also good!) ♡

thank you so much for your kind words!! :D i hope you enjoy, i kind of went for a more somber tone bc i like Angst, so this was moody and fun to write!

warnings: yandere!gn!reader, kidnapping, very mildly graphic mutilation (hands and ankle), drugging mention, very vague vomit mention, angst, best friends to lovers (gone wrong) /s

word count: 1.5 k

note: the scene describing mutilation is sandwiched by two dashes (-), incase u dont want to read it :D

AFTERMATH

The pattering of rain against the kitchen window is loud, accompanied by the sizzle of food on the stove and the distant chatter of news anchors coming from your TV in a domestic cacophony of sounds. It’s a Saturday morning, and it would be a pretty relaxed one if not for the deep pit of dread in your stomach. You had a rough night, to say the least. Trying to keep yourself present, you rub the dark bags under your eyes as you tend your routine of making breakfast every morning. Maybe a meal between the two of you will fix things. You hope so, at least. You tune into the television in an attempt to distract yourself.

“... are still in search for missing Hero, Urav-”

You’re suddenly uninterested, shutting the cable off with haste. Breakfast is as good as finished, anyways. 

The house is quiet, save for the rain, and the silence settles as a sickly chill under your skin. Taking your time to ensure your footsteps are quiet, you head towards the door at the end of the hallway. The normally innocuous door frame looms over you and you want to shrink away, go back to a time where things were okay. You place the tray on the small table outside of the room, fishing for the keys in your pocket. There are 3 locks; two require keys, while the other is an opposite facing deadbolt. You make quick work of opening them, daily practice rendering you nimble. With the door open and the keys back in your pocket, you grab the tray and push the door in with your hip, your stomach dropping and your heart fluttering simultaneously at the sight of Uraraka, still sleeping peacefully.

You place the tray on her bedside table gingerly, opening the curtains to her window afterwards. The dim, muddy light wakes her, her form stretching under the plush covers.

“Good morning!” you chirp, over enthusiastic as you sit on the edge of her bed. Her hair is messy, skin splotchy from laying in one place all night (you give her sleeping pills at night, and they tend to keep her in one place). She rubs sleep from her eyes cutely, sighing before speaking to you.

She hums in response. Even when she’s angry, she’s always so polite, sweet enough to offer you any response after what you did to her. Her gentle voice, no matter if she’s laughing or talking or screaming or crying, is music to you. The noise does more to set you at ease than you’d like to admit, her voice like stitches to your wounded heart. You can’t help but smile, warmth spreading over your skin. You love her so much, it’s why you do what you must to keep her safe.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask, as you do everyday, setting up her breakfast in front of her. She’s silent. You expect as much, yet it still stings, and you spare a glance at her to see an expression you can’t quite read and don’t quite like. That’s all it takes for the pit to return, guilt and remorse stirring through your veins. You can only muster offer a soft noise in response, sitting back with your own plate of food. You start first, choosing to focus on the flavor of the food, the softness of the duvet, the rain- anything but the silence. 

But it’s so difficult; you want nothing more than to be able to ignore her, to not feel so attached and needy and sorry. She burns so brightly, even when she’s upset, and you’re a moth to the flame, unable to look away for long. You don’t even realize that you’ve scarfed down half of your food, but it’s glaringly apparent when you look to Uraraka’s food to see it untouched, cooling rapidly. You glance at her face yet again, and her forlorn expression prompts you to break the thick silence.

“Does it still hurt?”

She flinches but doesn’t respond, hugging her arms to her chest and turning away from you. The rain is deafening against the window, and you notice you’re not hungry anymore.

“I told you I was sorry,” you say softly, eyes unconsciously darting to the bandages on her hands, trailing down to her legs, obscured by the covers. She continues to ignore you. You can’t take it, you need to hear her say something, anything.

 “You know I hate hurting you. I hate it, but you tried to run again. Why? We’ve been doing so good, I thought you were happy! I thought you finally understood! You have everything you need here, and even if you don’t, I can get it for you. I’m not even mad, not anymore, so please just-”

“Just let me leave,” her voice is hoarse, and you can see stray tears trailing down her flushed cheeks, pained eyes trained on your face. You swallow, using all of your willpower to turn away from her gaze. You stand suddenly, taking a deep breath before heading into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid materials you left in there. You make the executive decision that it would be better if that conversation never happened, so you pretend as such when you return to the room, replacing your somber expression with a warm smile.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” you peel back the covers and take a look at her ankle. 

-

Her shin is twisted slightly straightened yet still awkward in angle, absurdly swollen, skin littered with large splotches of wine purple, faded blue, and putrid yellow bruises. It looks like it hurts, and you feel yourself deflate, guilt chewing at your insides yet again. You’d never meant to do this to her, but you had no choice. Last night, while you were cooking dinner, you figured you’d let Uraraka keep you company as you chopped vegetables, seeing as she had been extraordinarily compliant recently. That was a mistake, as you had to act quickly when you heard the screech of the chair pushed back suddenly and the loud stomp of feet against hardwoods. You caught her before she could reach the front door, threw her to the floor, and in your irrational fit of panic you stomped hard, once, twice, three times, over and over until the sickening, dull crunch of bone snapped you out of your frenzy. In all of your time with Uraraka, both pre and post living together, you’d never seen her cry quite like this. Her loud, pained, fearful sobs made your stomach turn, and no matter how hard you tried to console her, she wouldn’t stop, thrashing to get your arms off of her. She couldn’t move far, and so you had to wait and watch her writhe in agony until she tired herself out, chest heaving, face covered in tears and snot and drool. You helped her to her room and quickly wrapped the wound, leaving her alone for the rest of the night. You were unable to sleep, hunched over the toilet for the majority of the early hours due to waves of nausea, crying spells ebbing and flowing.

(The bandages on her hands are different. Ridding her of her quirk was the only way to ensure she’d stay put. You’d had a few drinks, taken the largest kitchen knife you owned, and did what you had to. The wounds were cauterized and healed, but you kept the bandages on so she wouldn’t have to look at the scar tissue where the last ligament of her pinky fingers were missing.)

You clean her ankle, gently caressing the distorted flesh with rubbing alcohol. She returned to her reticence, save for small (cute) pained noises when you pass over a particularly tender spot. You take solace in the moment, cherishing the chance to take care of her. 

(When you rewrap the wound, you’re deliberate in doing it incorrectly. It will heal, but it will heal wrong, and then she’ll have to rely on you to get anywhere. The idea is tantalizing, and you suppress a shiver.)

-

“There, all done,” you grin up at her, surprised to find her looking back, expression exhausted but aware, awake. You pack the materials up quickly, climbing back onto the bed. You take note of her breakfast, undoubtedly cold now.

“I can heat that up for you.”

“‘M not hungry.”

That’s that, then. You decide not to push, instead opening your arms in a gesture of peace, knowing how much she loves (tolerates) your cuddles. She gives you a scrutinizing look, before nodding once, the only invitation you get. You move the tray to her bedside table, quickly scooting next to her and wrapping your arms around her gently. She doesn’t quite reciprocate, settling for just leaning against you, but you’ll take anything you can get. Your nerves are set alight, and you vow to yourself that you’ll never hurt her again. You know you did the right thing, keeping her fed and pampered and safe. You’d make up for it, devote yourself to seeing her smile again, even if only once.

“You’re not mad at me, right?” you can’t help but ask, always seeking her approval. 

She’s silent. The rain doesn’t stop. 

#YOINK i enjoyed writing this thank u anon! #yandere!reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #uraraka x reader #mha uraraka #bnha uraraka #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #uraraka x y/n #tw: kidnapping #tw: abuse #tw: body horror #akuma.fics

[duker42]

How about vampire Levi falling in love with a human reader where their love gets to the point she lets him suck her blood, but Levi's mad about it. Angst & smut please!! 😍 I love your writing. I know my request is kinda clichè btw 😅

***No sparkly Vamps here!!! *****WARNING*****NSFW

💜Blood Lust💜

He had taken her for his own selfish desires. Not wanted to be alone, needing someone who could venture out into the sunlight, plus he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. There was just something about her smell.

Y/N had lived with Levi for 6 months before they had ever become intimate. Well, she had lived, Levi had just...existed. She had originally been terrified when he had brought her here. He had found her, in the middle of being robbed and beaten. Levi had killed her attacker before it could turn into something worse. She had lost consciousness after seeing her pale savior sink his teeth into her assaults neck, draining his blood until the light in his eyes faded.

She had been surprised to find that vampires weren’t the myths she thought they were. Even more surprised to find one that was so damn...clean. His dwelling wasn’t the drab and dreary cobweb infested nightmare that was portrayed in the movies. Yes it was old, but it was light and bright during the day, and spotless.

The motorized window coverings blacked out any rooms he wanted to be in during the daylight hours, protecting him from the very deadly, in his case, UV rays. She had found herself at ease in his presence over time, despite his blunt and rude manner, he was a man that cared about others.

She found it odd that Levi was so keen on preserving human life, considering they were his food. The man he had killed the night he had saved her was the first life he had taken in five years. He relied on donors or blood banks for his meals, resisting urge to haunt the shadows and prey on the unsuspecting.

The first time they had slept together, Y/N knew that she was totally in love with the vampire that had changed her life. She had practically seduced him, with the man being so resistant to letting someone into his non beating heart.

~~~~~

“Levi.” She ventures as she kissed down his porcelain, chilly throat. “I want you to feed from me.”

His hands stop as they were stroking her stomach and gripping her ass.

He pulled his head away from where he had been nuzzling her throat. “No.” His voice was hard and flat.

“But why?” Curiosity burned in her eyes as she looked into his silvery orbs. She had been fascinated by their color when she had first woken up in his house. They were like liquid metal, the flecks of blue and silver constantly swirling as his stormy eyes contained the emotions he refused to let his face express.

“Reasons, brat.” He huffed, annoyed with her pressing the issue.

She wiggles on his lap. They were currently on his bed, now their bed. He always woke from the little sleep he got either horny or hungry, tonight was the former.

She nipped his ear as her warm breath washed over him. His heart may have no longer beat, but his nerves certainly worked as his body reacted to her touch. He had to remind himself to be gentle, temper his touch. She didn’t regenerate like he could. One slip, one moment where he lost himself and he could destroy the person he loved.

It scared him how hard he had fallen for the girl. The human he had found that night, struggling to fend off the degenerate that wanted her money, her body and maybe her life. He had no qualms about killing that one, as a calm rage fell over him as he caught the scent of her fear. He thought that was the moment he had started falling in love with her.

Y/N didn’t understand what she was asking. Fresh blood always caused a momentary frenzy, a split second where the monster he truly was is released. If he, in that moment, killed Y/N, he knew that he would walk out into the sunshine the very next day.

She whimpered a bit in his arms. The hands on her body relaxed as he loosened the grip he hadn’t know had tightened. Looking back at her, her cheeks flush and rosy, her eyes sparkling, he needed to remember that this human of his needed to be protected, even if it was from himself.

“Please, Levi? I want you to.” Shit, she wasn’t goin to let this go.

Levi peeled Y/N off of him and set her to the side. “I need to go clean.” And left her sitting on their bed without a backwards glance.

~~~~~

For a week he wouldn’t talk to Y/N. Wouldn’t acknowledge her presence. He didn’t sleep. All he did was obsessively clean the already immaculate house.

She watched him from the door frame. He was kneeling on the floor, scrubbing at invisible stains on the marble floors that didn’t exist. Or perhaps it had, years past. Their house was old, it was the same house where Levi had lived when he was still human. Meticulously cared for and upgraded as the centuries had past.

Levi’s mind was running as fast as his hands worked, scouring the smooth stone. Never in his 235 years, had Levi felt the connection that he had with Y/N. She accepted him for who and what he was, without reservation. Something he had never found as a human. Her only fear that night was that she was in a place she hadn’t known, after awakening from her attack. She had thought she had been kidnapped. After telling her she hadn’t, Levi had initially been willing to let her go, until she did the one thing he hadn’t expected.

She touched him. He knew that she had seen him kill that man. His ashen eyes had locked onto hers as he drank. Levi had watched her eyes roll back and Y/N slump to the ground unconscious. Knowing all of this, she had still walked up to him, with no hint of fear in her eyes and touched his cold cheek. “Thank you” She had whispered in a low clear voice.

In that moment, Y/N became his.

~~~~~

“Are you ever going to speak to me again?” Levi paused in his scrubbing for a moment before starting the rhythmic circles of the brush again.

“Are you done asking about that shit?” She knew that she had frustrated him, but damned if she was going to let this go.

“No, I’m not going to unless you explain why you are so against this.” He threw the brush down. Y/N watched it slide across the floor.

She looked up to find Levi right in front of her. His cleaning handkerchief pulled away from his face and his eyes hot and angry as they stared at her intimidatingly. In a flash, she was pushed up against he wall, his hands firmly around her arms, squeezing lightly in warning.

“Don’t fuck with me Y/N. You won’t like the consequences.” He growled out.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the powerful vampire. “You don’t scare me Levi. I know you won’t hurt me. Just tell me why?”

“Why the fuck do you want this?” He pushed off of her to pace. “You want to be my food? You want to feel like a pig set to slaughter?”

“I’m.....jealous.” He stopped and looked at her incredulously. She continued on, explaining. “I hate the thought of you touching those donors. Of them feeling any part of you, even your fangs. I had thought.....”

“You thought what?” He had stopped pacing to stand before her.

She lifted her eyes to his. “I had thought that when you told me that I was yours, it had also meant that you were mine.”

His glare softened. “Explain.”

Her face pouted slightly. “I don’t share. Period. If you set you lips on someone’s neck, it should be mine. If you feed from someone, it should be me.”

“Y/N.....I......” Words failed him. He could feel his resistance fading as he watched the hurt and insecurity cross the face he loved staring at.

“Just tell me what the problem is.” She begged, grabbing his hand.

“I could kill you, Y/N. I could lose control and squeeze you too hard or drain too much blood. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk losing you.” His eyes closed with his admission, ashamed of his shortcomings. He felt a warm hand on his cheek just like he had so many months before. Opening his eyes, he saw the love and trust she held for him in her gaze.

“You would never do that. I trust you, Levi.”

~~~~~

He had stripped them down to their underwear. Not caring for the mess blood usually made, he had prepared their bedroom. A waterproof protector covered the bed as they lay there.

“You always do it this way?” At his nod, Y/N gave a fierce scowl. “Yep, definitely not fucking sharing anymore.”

He gave a low laugh. “It’s always just a business transaction, Y/N. I drink, they get paid, we part ways.”

He leaned over body, lips hovering near her pulse. The warm beat of her blood was intoxicating, and he felt his fangs lower in anticipation. “Ready, Y/N?”

“Yes, Levi.”

With her consent, he plunged his fangs into the soft skin of her neck. Her tiny gasp filled his senses as he tasted her. Her blood filled his mouth. The sweet, thick liquid on his tongue caused a reaction he had never expected. His cock began to swell, hardening as he drank.

A fever invaded his mind. All he could think about was fucking her while he fed. Painfully overwhelming, the desire was coursing through him, clouding his mind. He didn’t want to hurt her, he wanted her screaming his name in ecstasy.

His hands tore the thin panties she wore. Her own hands were roaming on his body, but he was focused solely on her. Lowering his own underwear, he shifted, covering her body with his own. He yanked her legs open, his mouth still attacked to her neck as he filled her with a single thrust, pushing his cock into her tight center.

She cried out, pain and pleasure combined. He was large and stretched her opening as he began moving. It was fast and hard, a kinetic joining of their bodies. He pounded into her as she felt his tongue lave her neck, licking at the blood seeping from her wounds.

Once she was surrounding him, he felt a little bit calmer, but no less entranced by the woman in his arms. He moved a hand to her breast, palming it as he continued to slam his hips into hers. He heard her cries, but they seemed to be in pleasure, her hands tugging at his hair, and nails scraping down his back like in encounters past.

He rolled them over and sat up, Y/N now sitting on his cock. He sank his teeth into her again as she arched against him. He growled as she began moving against him. Her hips rocking back and forth as she rode him. Her tight walls milking him towards release as he continued to feed from her. He managed to finally pull away from her neck, running a bloodstained mouth down to her breast to capture a stiff peak.

Her blood trickled down her neck, running down to the breast as he tugged on the nipple. She moaned and moved faster against him, enjoying his mouth on her as much as his cock inside her. When the trail of blood reached his mouth, he began licking up her chest, cleaning her as much as savoring the rich nectar.

He moved them again. This time, setting her on her knees. Sliding in easily, he snapped his hips forward and began to drive himself into her wet cavern. He sped up, confident the eager woman would love the pace that no human could set. Her erotic gasp and high pitched keening let him know he was right. As he felt her begin to tighten around him, he knew that he was close, pulling her back flush against his chest, he pushed deeper as he closed his lips around her neck again.

Screaming his name, she shattered in his arms. Her body shook and he felt the warm rush of her release as her body gripped him. He felt his own body tighten and he came with an inhuman snarl, his bloody teeth exposed as he filled her with his cum.

They slumped down together in the bed, Y/N gasping for breath. Levi was in a daze, he had never felt a need that strong, experienced an orgasm that all consuming. As he came down off his post coitus high, he began to look Y/N over, checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

She gave him a sleepy smile. That had been absolutely amazing. All she could do was lay there bonelessly as she felt him tut and run his hands over her flesh. She giggled as he lifted her into his arms, intent on showering to clean up.

“What, brat?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow down at his love.

“I really love your blood lust, Levi.”

#captain levi #levi ackerman #snk levi #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman modern au #levi modern au #vampire levi #vampire au

[tibbinswrites]

Hi x could you do #327 for canon destiel please? Btw I love your work, you wright so eloquently x

You’re so sweet! Thank you! Sorry it’s taken me so long. I wasn’t sure what to do for this one, but then I was re-organising my fanfic folder and came across a wip that I’d started ages ago but never got around to making something out of it. And with a little tweaking, seemed to fit the prompt pretty well :D I hope you like it.

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), #327 and #502 and I’ve got a possible part 3 of #170 pending. I’m not accepting any more prompts at the moment.

Also, just in case you hadn’t heard already, I’m part of an incredible destiel anthology. Our indegogo page is live here and there are tiers ranging from simply gorgeous PDF copies and all the podfics to beautiful print books and a bunch of other merch like bookmarks and art prints. We’re at an amazing 78% funded already! Check it out.

Warning for mentions of torture (hell flashback)

Enjoy ^_^

Prompt 327: “I could hear you… breathing.”

Dean woke gasping, sweat-soaked and tangled in his sheets. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, a few more for his eyes to adjust to the near-black, and almost a full minute after that for the thumping of his heart to slow and his breathing to calm.

Just a nightmare.

He was used to waking up like this, but the Déjà vu didn’t make it any easier. Sure, he could joke about it in the daylight, be cavalier or even talk seriously about the fact that his nightmares were a regular occurrence if there was a need, but in the dark, with his dream still blurring the edges of his vision, it was impossible to be anything other than afraid.

When the fear faded as the familiar shapes of his room began to emerge from the gloom, he was left with an even more familiar frustration. He hated that Alastair still had sway over him. The demon had been dead for over ten years but his skin still rippled with cold dread whenever his mind wandered in that particular downwards direction. In some ways Dean had never left Hell, in some ways, Alastair had won and even after all these years, that rankled on him in a way that few things did.

He tried to kick off the sheets but on discovering that they’d wrapped around his ankle had to reach down and yank them from him with his hands, grumbling at the extra inconvenience. He stripped the bed without needing to turn on the light, this was a common enough occurrence that he had the process down. Bare duvet and pillows in one pile, gross bottom sheet, pillow cases and duvet cover in another. According to his blinking alarm clock it was almost five am anyway, he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight. He braced himself and then switched on his bedside lamp, sucking in a breath through his teeth as the too-bright, too-sudden light stabbed into his retinas, ruining his night vision. He squinted for a few moments until he could blink without it feeling like the beginnings of a headache and then set about re-making the bed with fresh sheets, tucking in the corners military-tight, fluffing the pillows before placing them perfectly. When he was done, his bed looked like it had never been slept in.

He dropped the soiled sheets into his hamper and then headed to shower; his skin was oily with drying sweat and as it cooled it only made him shiver, the kind of shaky that travelled through muscles and up into the head, that wouldn’t go away unless he scrubbed off all evidence that anything was wrong.

Once in the bathroom he yanked off his clothes, left them in a damp pile by the door and twisted the shower knob on.

The spray was icy when it when hit him but warmed quickly and soon it was at that perfect temperature just over the line of scalding. He stopped shivering and let the water relax him, making sure to jerk his brain back if it threatened to wander to the reason he was taking a shower at five in the morning, to the clammy hands he still felt the imprints of, the nasal voice, those cold eyes alight with malice, delight at his pain, that face he will never forget.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, his stomach twisting unpleasantly, and almost choked on water.

“Are you thirsty, Dean?” Alastair taunted, holding his head under a spray of liquid. And Dean was, he was parched, he hadn’t had anything to drink in more than twenty years and Hell never let him forget it. So he opened his mouth, because that was the game, and the water burned like acid.

Dean yanked his head back from the spray, spluttering, choking, burning. And it didn’t matter that he knew he was safe, that the water was only not, not actually painful, that he was in the bunker and Sam was just down the hall, he stumbled from the shower, naked and dripping and definitely not clean yet, to hunch over the toilet bowl and retch until his stomach was empty. Of course the acid in his throat didn’t help that particular memory to face but once he was done he felt better. The remainder of his shower was embarrassingly rushed and tepid and he stepped out, rubbed himself with a towel and tried not to think. He brushed his teeth with a little more force than necessary and gargled some mouthwash, all the while avoiding his reflection in the mirror. When he left the bathroom he dressed quickly. There was no point hanging around his room. Staring blankly at a wall wouldn’t exactly help the shadows retreat.

He opened the door to find Cas leaning against the wall opposite. He straightened when he saw Dean, and Dean was tempted to just close the door again. Instead he sighed and stepped out into the chilly hallway.

“Let me guess,” Dean said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. “Just passing by?”

“No.” Cas said, as blunt as ever. “I felt your distress.”

Well that was embarrassing. He rubbed at the back of his neck before folding his arms. It had been a long time since he’d had a nightmare that bad.

“So you thought you’d just… hang out here?”

“I could hear you… breathing,” Cas said with a slight cough that translated ‘breathing’ into ‘violently throwing up’. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“You wouldn’t’ve been,” was Dean’s immediate response, though some of the unease in his gut had lessened. Seeing Cas there calmed him, and Alastair’s voice retreated back to the box it usually lived in.

Cas nodded like he expected as much. “I figured you were still in my radius nonetheless.”

“Your… what?”

Cas’ lips jumped up at the edges a little, the way they did when Dean showed his ignorance about angels, despite living with one. Dean was still too raw from his nightmare to get pissy about it. It was nice just to see Cas smile.

“My radius. All angels have a—I suppose you could say—calming presence.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, mouth curling into a smirk of his own. “Bullshit.”

Cas shrugged. “It’s mostly only effective on the unconscious,” he paused, fighting another smile, “or the weak-willed.”

“Hey!”

Cas’ laugh was soft, only barely hitting the tiles so it wrapped around the two of them but went no further. Suddenly, Dean felt a little less cold. “Humans tend not to have room for it when they’re awake. Your minds are always so busy that an outside influence is easily disregarded.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have much goin’ on upstairs?” Dean asked, trying to sound offended but knew that the smile on his face was giving him away. God, how could he feel anything other than fond with Cas standing there all straight lines and strong shoulders, his eyes gentle as sunrise? Maybe Cas was right, with Cas taking up more than half his senses, there was just no room left for the fear stuck to him. He felt it slide off and for once, didn’t worry about it coming back.

“No. I’m saying that if it works—if it’s working now—it’s because you’re letting it, because trust me.”

Dean stepped forward, and didn’t think about it too much when he stepped in close and let his hands curve around Cas’ waist to rest at the base of his spine. He dropped his head to rest it in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathed deeply.

“Well that’s true enough,” he murmured.

If Cas was surprised, he didn’t show it. His own arms came up to hold Dean tight and they just stood there. There was no expectation in the embrace, though perhaps there should have been. Nor were there nerves, though there definitely should have been. It was just… easy, in the way that things between them never were. It was comfort and accepting comfort and Dean felt that this moment, while it might not change anything between them, was important. That maybe it wasn’t anything between them that needed to change, but something inside Dean that just had.

And while he wasn’t quite ready to delve head first into it yet, with his bare feet on the icy tile, Cas’ warmth and scent and feeling of home surrounding the rest of him, the remnants of a nightmare trickling from his bloodstream, Dean was pretty sure that Cas wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

#fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #Destiel fanfic #cw torture mention #prompt #writing #TibbinsWrites #desitel fluff

[sailawaysweetsis]

The Great Mercury

John Deacon x Reader

Part Two

A/N: Well, here’s part two! Btw, this more of a John’s POV

Word Count: 1.7k

Hope you enjoy!

• • • •

All the band had one mission, help John find (Y/N). So they arranged everything they could in less than 24 hours to make a party and spread the word. Freddie made sure that the whole city knew of the splendid reunion he would be doing that day, at his house.

Freddie played a crucial part on calming John’s nerves down, the poor boy was a mess, and those nerves only grew when the party was starting. He encouraged John to head downstairs and greet people. Everyone looked fancy and eloquent, which made John feel underdressed in his white shirt and trousers. He made small talk with few people before hiding in a more secluded area. It had been a couple of hours since the party started, you should be here soon, right?

John started to grow impatient and lose hope that you would come. Of course you would go, why would you? It wasn’t exactly your environment, and it wasn’t his as well. Against the rest of his friends arguments to stay a little longer, John headed home, broken hearted.

The next day on the studio, the band tried to cheer him up, telling him that the party wasn’t a success mainly because it was made on such a short notice. If they did an even bigger party, and started planning it within days, that should definitely work. John reluctantly agreed, and so the cycle was repeated, and his heart was broken once more.

“C’mon John! Don’t give up! Maybe if we get an ice sculpture and fireworks she would come.” Tried to explain Freddie the day after the party had failed. The band was reunited on the studio, concerned for their bass player.

“Just forget it Fred. She’s not coming. I lost her again.” John sighed.

“I’ll tell you what. Let us do one more. Just one more. I’ve got this thing planned, and trust me, it has to work.”

John gave Freddie an annoyed look, but he saw that his friend’s intentions were true.

“What do you think Bri? Rog?” Asked John looking for more opinions.

“Well,” urged Brian, “Freddie explained to us his big idea and we believe it could work. Let us do this John. If it doesn’t work, we’ll let you be. Promise.”

John gave a weak smile. “Alright.”

“You won’t regret this.”

• • • •

“Alright, listen up everyone. We’ve got a special party to do for my great friend John and little time to do so, so no one can waste time on silly things. Understood?”

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. Freddie had done multiple parties before, but none of them were as important as this one. The love life of his best friend has at stake! He had been bossing everybody around since the sun had risen. Ordering immense amounts of appetizers and gallons of champagne. This one had to be perfect, he couldn’t let John down one more time.

He had called Paul and asked him for help, despite the band’s whining against it. He may not be the best human being, but he certainly knew how to organize a party.

Brian was in charge of the decoration, which was under Freddie’s orders to be “classy and retro”. Brian knowing his friend had the perfect theme on mind, which also gave him a perfect excuse to bring one of his favorite books to live.

Paul had to invite every single living soul to the party and make sure that the whole wide world knew about it. While Roger had to supervise that all the food was edible and delicious.

And Freddie? Oh he had the most arduous job of them all. Fix John up.

“What’s wrong with the way I look, Fred? I don’t need help with my outfit, a white shirt and trousers should do the trick.” Muttered John while he and Freddie entered Freddie’s gigantic wardrobe.

“You see dear John, that’s the problem. If we were under different circumstances I would allow it. But you are about to encounter (Y/N) for the first time in years! A simple shirt and pants won’t do. Don’t you want to cause an impression?”

“Then what do you suggest?” John replied a tad skeptical, crossing his arms. He didn’t liked where this was heading.

“I’m glad you asked” Freddie open the closet’s door to reveal all kinds of shapes and colors of clothing. “We are going to turn you into a prince, my dear! Not that you aren’t but you do need a little help with the clothes.”

“Alright, but I’m not wearing anything to flamboyant.”

“Don’t worry, that job’s taken. There’s only one person in this world that can be flamboyant, and that’s Freddie Mercury.”

Freddie sat John down in his settee and start throwing clothes here and there. He kept muttering to himself about God knows what while John sat wondering why in all heavens he agreed to this. Yes, Freddie was his best friend but he could be a little over the top at times. He pulled a white tuxedo.

“Aha! This is perfect. It’s classy, modern, stands out - but not in a look-at-that-clown stand out. Try it.”

John went into the bathroom and put on the expensive suit. He admired his reflection, he really looked good. The tuxedo brought out his best features.

“Come out darling! I want to see you.” Shouted Freddie outside the bathroom.

John opened the door and gave a little turn for his friend.

“What do you think Freddie?”

Freddie applauded John. “Lovely, I feel like a proud parent. Now the only thing missing is your hair.” He directed him to his dressing table and pushed John to the chair.

“No, no, no. My hair is perfectly fine as it is, thank you Freddie.”

“Oh c’mon! Don’t be like Brian. Besides, your hair only needs a little grooming. Is fine just as it is.” Freddie explain a terrified John, “Now, sit back, relax, close your eyes, and let me do my magic.”

John did exactly that. After some accidental hair pulling and breaking a comb, John was finally ready. He was excited to see the final result, even if Freddie had a unique taste, he trusted his best friend capable hands to make him look amazing.

When he fluttered his eyes open, he instantly knew that he was going to catch your attention.

By the time the sun was going down, everything was all set and the first guests started to arrive. Freddie’s house looked straight out of the 20’s.

John didn’t wanted to go through this hell again. So he had a couple of drinks, to arm himself with bravery. He danced with everyone around him, not knowing if you were already there, but he didn’t cared. He just wanted to go through the night as fast as he could so he could tell them I told you so.

You heard about “The Great Mercury’s Party” through your friend. She insisted that the both of you should attend the party, since the theme was the roaring 20’, a decade you loved, and it was also a dress up party, you loved to do so.

Although you were reluctant, you had no idea if John would be there., but you really wanted to see him one more time. So you agreed to go, under the condition that your friend wouldn’t get too wasted.

You two spend the rest of the evening looking for the perfect flapper dress, which you found after a while. It was a silver one, which you adorned with pearls and a white flower on your curly hair. You were both good to go so you went to Freddie’s house. How did your friend knew his address? No idea. Apparently everyone but you did because when you arrived it was a full house.

You walked through those marble floors and straight out of a movie, everyone left a trail for you to follow towards John. You two locked eyes and gave each other a smile. You trotted to him and trotted to you, meeting him halfway.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” John whispered with a smile plastered on his face, “You look gorgeous in that dress, I mean is not like you never looks gorgeous but that dress makes it better.”

“Thank you.”

“Want to take a seat?”

Both of you sat on Freddie’s white settee. God, how much you had missed John.You forgot how when John smiled little wrinkles formed in the corner of his eyes, and how big his smile was. The way his chocolate eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved and the way his voice went up and and down when he got excited.

God, how much John had missed you. He forgot how when you laughed it was the sweetest sound he ever heard and you did it like no one was around. The way you unconsciously reached out for his hand when you talked about doing something with him.

You two caught up with all that you had missed on each others lives after you parted your ways. The room was filled with joyful laughter coming from both parties, thankful to finally be reunited with the other. None of you realized that that many of the guests had already left.

“So, um… guess we’re one of the few left.” John chuckled, making your belly twist.

“Yeah… I should head home”

“Of course.” John shyly looked at you. “Would you- no forget it”

“Would I what?”

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

“John, tell me”

“I was wondering if… if you would… if we would…” he sighed, “ If I would see me again sometime? Here in Freddie’s house because his house is way better than mine. He has better taste.”

“Of course. Don’t doubt it.” You said as you approached him and gave John a kiss on the cheek, “See you later John”

“See- see you” John watched your figure fade away with an enamoured smile.

“Well, well, I think we accomplished our mission didn’t we?” Freddie starled John. “Did you asked for her number?”

“Yeah, I did”

“And? You’re gonna call her?”

“Definitely. By the way, I’m gonna need to borrow your house.”

“Of course darling! But may I ask why?”

“Because I want to show (Y/N) around here.”

“Aww, little Deaky is happy again.”

#john deacon x you #john deacon x reader #john deacon x y/n #joe mazzello #john deacon #queen #brian may #freddie mercury #roger taylor #johm deacon imagine #john deacon fluff #john deacon blurb #queen fic #queen fanfic

[honeyjxsung]

Unsensible Pt. 3

Part 1 Part 2

Member: Bts V x Reader (Ft. JK and JM)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: can u pls make a scenario with taehyung where the s/o tries to help jin and taes fight at the wings concert but tae just ends up getting mad at her so she leaves and tae regrets it. tysm i love your works!

A/N: Yep! I’m back with another one! Hope you enjoy! btw, i didn’t edit this so if there are errors im sorry! 

~Earlier~

“Y/N!” Jungkook called out to you. Jimin scrambled to his feet and studied you. You just passed out. “We need to take her home now” Jimin cried. Jungkook lifted you up bridal style with ease and began to walk back to your apartment. “Call Tae Hyung right now and tell him we have noona” Jungkook ordered.

-

Tae was getting ready for bed when he checked the clock. It read 10:30. It was getting late and Jimin disappeared without saying anything, Taehyung figured that he just went home. His mind went back to you. Where were you? Were you warm? Were you safe? Taehyung cursed at himself. How could he be so stupid? He said those words to you and it hurt. He knew it hurt. All he wanted to do was hug you again. He turned back at the other side of the bed. It was empty. Normally you would’ve been laying there, cuddling with him or reading a book, but now he thinks he will never relive those memories ever again-

The phone suddenly rang causing Taehyung to jump from the sudden noise but he answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Tae we found Y/n.”

When V heard your name his eyes were wide open and his body was awake.

“W-what? Is she ok? Where was she?”

“I’ll give you the details later but she’s really hurt. She passed out too..just leave the door unlocked and we’ll see you soon”

By the time Jimin hung up the phone Tae was already scrambling out of bed to unlock the door. His hands were shaking as he did so. You were hurt. Hell, you were unconscious and it was all because of him and his dumb actions. He had to get back to his senses and be aware that he can’t just take his anger out on you. You weren’t some toy that he can play around with. You were his girlfriend. A tear slipped down tae’s face, maybe for the hundredth time today. He’s never cried this much before, probably because he’s never been this hurt before. What if Taehyung lost you forever? What if what he said about you was unforgivable? He can’t even forgive himself, so how will you do the same? Negative thoughts flooded his mind and it was too much to bear.

The boy trudged to the kitchen to get a sip of water and he almost choked on the drink when the door burst open and a messy looking Jimin followed by a jungkook entered. The youngest had you in his arms, full of bruises on you cheek, thighs, and stomach.

-

~Present~

Your eyes slowly opened and you were blinded by the sun’s rays.It was morning; your head throbbed a bit and your ribs hurt like hell, but other than that you were fine. You glanced around the room and you saw the sweaters on the bed, the towels on the door, the gucci in the closet. Then you remembered.

You were back home.

Relief crept through your chest, washing away the stress you had earlier. As you were about to get up, you felt something weighing you down; it was slightly heavy.

Kim Taehyung.

You eyeballed him and studied his features. You outlined his relaxed eyes, his kissable lips, his sharp jawline, and his soft nose that seemed to balance everything out. You had to be honest, you really missed him, and you wished that fight you had with him the other say would disappear into thin air. How could you leave him like that? You were about to throw away everything you cherished with him all because of some silly fight?

“I was dumb to leave you taetae. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean what you said. You were just stressed, and I get that. I love you so much, and I would never leave you for anything or anyone.” You leaned forward and planted a sincere and heartwarming kiss on his forehead, and smiled. When Taehyung opened his eyes, you were left shocked.

“T-tae, I’m sorry did I wake you?”

He shook his head and remained silent, smiling softly.

The boy listened to everything you just said.

“I love you too Y/n”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, you played with his hair and he hummed a small tune that relaxed the both of you. Taehyung missed this. He missed laying on your lap while you fidgeted with his hair as you watched a movie. He missed the frequent cuddles you had every night before going to bed. You would normally snuggle in between his arms and fall asleep feeling safe and protected and tae loved the feeling of you nestled close. Most of all, he missed you.

-

“Mornin’ hyung! You want pancakes or waffles?” Jungkook smiles brightly as tae walked in, surprised.

“How the hell did you get in my apartment!?” He shrieked.

“We have our ways..” Jimin said smirking. Taehyung rolled his eyes and set the table.

“So how's y/n? Did she forgive you?” Jungkook asked while he set the breakfast in middle of the stand.

“She’s doing ok, and yes she forgave me. I’m really glad she gave me a second chance. I don't know what I’d do if-” “Good morning guys! Woah jungkook you made that? I didn't know you could cook, well done maknae.”

You startled the three boys and they all looked up at you in worry and shock. You knew what was coming next: the babying.

“Yah! Y/n why are you up? I told you to stay in bed you’ll get hurt again!”

“How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Do you want me to get your medicine?”

The maknaes were all talking at once that you had to yell at them to shut up. Although they’re very caring boys, they can go a bit too overboard. You were already better anyway, you could walk fine and your headache went away. Despite the bruise on your rib, all your wounds were healing.

“GUYS! I’m fine now alright? You don’t have to pamper me anymore.”

The 3 sighed in defeat and Taehyung got up and pecked your forehead

“Ok, we’ll stop. Now, breakfast is ready so let’s eat yeah?” You nodded and joined them in the table.

As you were eating, the door once again burst open and in came 4 loud boys whooping and cheering.

“Seriously, you guys need to stop barging in my house!” Tae complained. Everyone just snickered, including you, and went back to eating.

-

The apartment was lively again; Jin and Hobi were washing the dishes, Jungkook was playing overwatch, Namjoon was reading a book, and Yoongi and Jimin were watching TV. Tae looked around and grinned, however his smile faded when you were nowhere to be seen. He cocked his head and entered your bedroom thinking that you were there, and you were.

“Hey Tae, I was just making the bed, but I’ll be out in a minute”

“Let me help.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes tugging the blankets, fixing the mattress, throwing pillows and giggling hysterically. You plopped in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling and Taehyung joined you.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day, Y/n. I didn’t  mean to take it out on you.” He said suddenly.

“I know Tae, and its ok. I forgive you.”

“Just please promise me you won’t get hurt anymore. When I saw you unconscious I thought i really lost you for good.” “I promise. And I also promise to never leave you.”

The two of you faced each other smiling sincerely. You loved this boy so much, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Because he was your world.

And you were his sunshine.

AND DONE! 

#bts #bts v #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts angst #bts fluff #kpop #kpop angst #kpop v #kpop bts #kpop fluff #k

[adlegend21]

Dalish Sera and how awesome it would’ve been.

Disclaimer: I love Sera, she’s one of the sweetest romances in DAI and I bring her everywhere on every Inquisitor. 

That said, I think it would’ve been a great thing if Sera had been a Dalish elf, with the intention of showing a POSITIVE light on the Dalish for a change. So here’s my meta for the concept of Sera Lavellan.

For starters, she’s brown like her concept art, and maybe she’s got a Mythal design for her face tattoos, maybe in a shade of green. She’s a hunter from Clan Lavellan who, like in the Lavellan origin, sent her to spy on the conclave.

Sera’s there even if Inquisitor Lavellan is chosen by the player in which there’s some unique dialogue of her staying there to make sure the shem didn’t do anything funny to Lavellan while they were unconscious. For non-lavellan Inquisitors, she’s fighting with Solas and Varric and Varric stays behind after his intro and you meet him back at Haven.

Sera provides the exposition for Clan Lavellan, they were near Kirkwall after Anders blew the chantry and they fought bandits, rogue Templars searching for mages, and eventually made their way to the conclave because of how important it was and that’s why Sera (and Inquisitor Lavellan) are there.

Also Sera’s still a lesbian only love interest, not changing that, don’t need to, but she’s still good friends with male Lavellan’s, even more so if they’re a rogue because they were a team of hunters.

She and Cassandra don’t get along because she feels Cassandra is too keen to make The Herald of Andraste a thing (even more hostile if Lavellan) and pushes for Lavellan to be called The Herald of Mythal (hue hue hue for later in the game) in banter.

She and Solas don’t really get along either because it shows how he feels pity for the Dalish due to his “studies of the fade” but eventually with some input from the Inquisitor in banter and conversations with Solas they can become amicable.

Her beef with Vivienne is mostly due to her being a court member of Orlais and how she doesn’t use her power to help as many people as she can despite being a mage and she counters Vivienne’s dismissive opinions on anti-circle rhetoric, openly chastising her for saying Dalish ship off mages into the wild if they have too many, DOUBLEY SO for Mage Lavellan’s saying how revered and respected mages are in Dalish culture and how she should really broaden her horizons when it comes to magic instead of being so defensive of the chantry rhetoric.

Sera is a big proponent of Clan Lavellan’s actions of helping people. They helped people in the free marches, they helped people in Northern Ferelden, and she’s staying with the Inquisition to help people (even if Lavellan isn’t there) and that leads into the mission IN WYCOME that's set up on the war table where (stop the purging of Wycome's elves) becomes the playable mission.

In the Fade the Nightmare preys on her fear of losing her clan saying something along the lines of “Your clan is weak without you Sera (and Inquisitor Lavellan) how do you know they will be there when you return for them?” and her tombstone is “losing her culture to humans”

For Wicked Eyes and Wicked hearts, if she’s brought she’s announced as “Sera Lavellan, Master Hunter of The Dalish Clan Lavellan” if you complete the Wycome mission before she’s announced as “Sera Lavellan, Master Hunter of Dalish Clan Lavellan of Wycome” and the Nobles comment on her status in ambient dialogue. She also mentions Leliana personally giving her pointers on the game so she doesn’t let her hatred of the Nobles get in the way of the mission. She GREATLY APPROVES of having Briala control Gaspard and mentions to Briala that she has the support of Clan Lavellan for non-Lavellan Inquisitors and for Lavellan’s she has a war table quest to forge an alliance with Briala’s people and Clan Lavellan.

And of course, What Pride had Wrought, she and Morrigan clash because, even as a Hunter, Sera has incredible knowledge of Mythal and her practices, often talking over Morrigan to explain things to non-Lavellan inquisitors, and shifting the conversation to Lavellan saying the exposition.

When it comes down to the well decision (she approves of sparing Calpernia by telling her of Corypheus’ plot btw and killing Samson) she actually is a choice if she’s in the party. Her vallaslin is for Mythal and she feels that the well belongs to the Dalish. She greatly disapproves if a Trevelyan takes it but the post-mission conversation can be used to get some approval back and she just disapproves of Morrigan takes it. She Greatly approves of Lavellan taking it and is neutral on Cadash and Adaar.

If Sera takes it then she’s the one who mentions Morrigan and Keiran going into the Eluvian so she’s present at that Mythal reveal, if Morrigan is alone she’s a require companion on going to the reveal and naturally she is over the moon to meet FleMythal who says she (and Inquisitor Lavellan) “Do the People proud and have come far” making her the happiest Elf this side of Thedas to have the approval of one of the creators.

For Trevelyan’s they can explain to Sera why they chose to take the well and regain some approval, mages have an easier time because they can say that the Well’s knowledge will be used to help mages throughout Thedas and Sera will be okay with it.

Sera’s cutscene conversations show her kinder side and her ambient dialogue shows that she gets along with the elven members of the Inquisition really well, some were even rescued by her in the chaos.

Her romance is flipped and it’s easiest to romance her with Lavellan’s as they’ve got history together as opposed to it being the hardest. The Hardest romance path is Trevelyan because of Sera’s grudges against human nobles, less so for Mage Trevelyan’s because she’s aware of the plight of circle mages. Adaar’s are still easy because she saw a few female qunari in the free marches and still goes “woof” for them. Trevelyan gets a special conversation where Sera wants to know if they really love her or if she’s just an elf they want to have sex with and Trevelyan can soothe her fears on that in the conversation as well.

She is also the ONLY person with a quest post-Corypheus defeat where, with high approval, or a Lavellan, you get to meet the Clan in a social space like Val Royeux when Wycome is saved as opposed to the earlier quest to save it.

If Sera is not romanced by The Inquisitor she has a few things that happen. She flirts with Cassandra in banter after Haven but gets shot down. In Ambient dialogue from Leliana, her agents let on about Sera having a crush on her to which Leliana shoots her down if romanced in DAO and if not then she’s on the fence about it before Sera gives up. Dagna mentions getting a gift from Sera to welcome her to the Inquisition. Josephine even visits Sera while the two have tea together in the tavern and go on a date if neither is romanced but nothing comes of it. Ultimately if unromanced Sera and Charter become an item in Trespasser.

Speaking of DLC’s Sera is amazed at Ameridan being an Elven Mage and she has dialogue where she asks him questions to get his exposition. The post story convo with The Professor auto selects revealing that Ameridan was an Elven mage if Sera is present because she won’t allow you to lie about him being a human noble (why would you anyway???)

She also talks about dealing with Darkspawn during The Descent in her travels with Clan Lavellan, even having a funny story about doing so with Inquisitor Lavellan.

Also, Tempest Specialization is revealed to be Elven in origin, something she learned from the Keeper and the NPC for the specialization is another Elf from her Clan Lavellan (that makes THREE) and Sera approves of Cadash, Adaar, and Lavellan’s taking it, but is neutral on Trevelyan’s depending on her approval with them.

Sera is IMPOSSIBLE to remove from the Inquisition. She will not leave because the Dalish need her as a voice for change in the world and you cannot tell her to leave. Her disapproval scene is her chastising you (gotta screw over the dalish clan in the exalted plains, get clan lavellan destroyed, take the well and tell her off as Trevelyan, conscript the mages, and banish Briala and keep Celene on the throne or something along those lines) and saying that after you defeat Corypheus that she hopes the dread wolf takes you. speaking of the dread wolf.

Sera has a crisis during Tresspaser. When it's found out about the Evanuris being mages that held slaves and warred upon each other and that Fen’Harel punished them, she doesn’t know what to do about it. It calls into question everything the Keeper taught her, but after the initial shock, she wants to know more. She’s furious after going to the library because of the last words of the Elves you hear when the world falls apart because the fade is beyond the veil, and she wants all the answers behind everything that happened and Lavellan can agree with her on that.

This changes Trespasser just a bit because Solas welcomes the entire party you bring with you to the final conversation with various pieces of input. He reveals that he is Fen’harel, the Dread Wolf, and Sera is stunned. The Dread Wolf was around her the entire time and she didn’t know, but Solas says it’s by design. He feared her wrath and wanted to help, and after meeting mythal he commends both Inquisitor Lavellan and Sera because they changed his opinion of the dalish from when he woke up. He still has the goal of returning the world to its previous state and to everyone’s surprise Sera agrees with him and takes the option from the Inquisitors response to agree with him, though he denies her because he sees the anger in her desire to join him and he takes no pleasure in what must be done whereas she might. He takes the Anchor from the Inquisitor and tells the party not to follow (he also give you back your gear) and you return to make your decision of the Inquisition’s fate.

Sera’s epilogue slides have her return to clan Lavellan with the news of fen’Harel’s return and the truth about the elven gods and it leads to the first major meeting of Dalish Clans across Thedas so that they as The People can decide what to do going forward.

So that was a long piece of writing and I may make some addendums down the line, but so far, that’s how I would have done Dalish Sera

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #Sera #meta #Dragon Age Critical

[theartfulmegalodon]

Some Thoughts on Coco...

First of all, the movie was fantastic, and beautiful, and moving, and everything all the reviewers have said. Go see it, it’s amazing.

But I’m me, so I can’t help but have a few nitpicks. I wouldn’t dream of putting spoilers out in the open here, so if you’ve seen the film already and want to read my comments, they’re past the cut.  (And, um, they’re long.  Sorry.)

So... okay, I think most everybody who’s seen the film and given it some actual thought afterward has realized that there are some seriously troubling rules in place about the Mexican afterlife.  It’s all fluffy and fairy tale-like at first glance, you know, older family telling the sweet story to the kids about how a picture on an altar keeps the memory of their departed family members alive... except of course in this case, it means keeping them LITERALLY alive, in the afterlife.

We’re shown that you NEED a picture of the person. Actually they only say “photo” throughout the entire film, making me wonder what happens if you don’t have any photos, or you were too poor to commission a painted portrait back in the day. Why wouldn’t, say, written letters count? Or family heirlooms, like jewelry or a comb? What if the family simply lost the photos in a fire or something? What if they didn’t manage to make an altar? Say someone’s the last of their line, keeping all their (photographed) ancestors alive, but right around DdlM they get hit by a car and are in traction for a week or more, unable to light a stupid candle next to some photos? The dead relatives are just SOL? Are poor people’s relatives also SOL, when the living simply doesn’t have the resources to do this ritual? And heck, if you’re an orphan with no family when you die, that means what? NO AFTERLIFE FOR YOU? Does it HAVE to be family that remembers you for it to count?

And then there’s the rule that you can only keep existing in the afterlife so long as your memory is maintained by someone who knew you in life.  Hector confirmed this when Miguel tried to insist he could go back and remember these new dead folks now that he’s met them in the afterlife, so they wouldn’t fade away.  But nope, “It doesn’t work like that.”

Except...

That can’t be true, because at the end of the movie, we see grandma Coco has died, and all of the extended dead family is still there, safe and sound. But Coco was the only one who’d remembered her parents, and especially Hector. So we see that Hector, and presumably anyone, can totally live on even after everyone who knew them in life is dead as well.

So... that’s a bit of a contradiction there.  And then there’s the whole De La Cruz storyline about fame.  Whether he chose to be famous at all costs just because he wanted the spotlight, or even on the off chance that he was trying to secure his immortality in the afterlife, it’s sort of implied that simply by being famous, he’ll never be forgotten, and as long as he has fans who put his picture on their altars (or his? not sure how that goes) he’s set.

So really, I have no idea how one stays alive in the afterlife, for sure. But Hector did say about fading away: “It happens to everyone eventually”, which... yeah, okay, makes sense. Which means, basically, that your afterlife is a whole new life, but you spend it knowing that your very existence depends on others to remember you and prove it with a ritual.  If you’re not one of the very lucky ones (and the movie made it seem like there are relatively few unlucky ones, because kids movie) you’d spend your borrowed existence wracked with anxiety that any moment your luck will run out. Not to mention, your eventual second death (their “FINAL death”, as they call it) will likely be way worse than your first one. When they’re dying their final death, they do it with the knowledge that there really is nothing left for them AND that they’ve been entirely forgotten by the living world. The entirety of their existence is over, and there’s not even some comforting Grim Reaper type to send them off.

Sigh.

This isn’t really what I wanted to pick at, believe it or not. I’ve got more real issues with the actually family dynamics. Because family, as was made super clear, is basically the most important thing in life AND death, and without family, life is meaningless (or possibly OVER FOREVER). And that’s... kinda problematic for me.  I know it’s culturally accurate, from what I know of Latin cultures and many others.  But I really dislike the whole notion that your BLOOD relatives are always a good thing to keep in your life.

Miguel’s family was cartoonishly restrictive when it came to music, his one passion.

(And can we mention for a moment the absurdity of shielding an entire family line from ALL MUSIC? How exactly does that work? We don’t know for sure what time period this is. From the look of De La Cruz’s movies, and counting the generations hence, we could assume this is modern day.  (In a really underdeveloped part of Mexico.) But trying to eliminate all music from someone’s life is only slightly possible if they’re a child, and you can control exactly what they do and where they go.  But did Miguel never go to school?  People sing songs and play music in schools.  And did the adults in the family never go anywhere outside of their shoe shop and the cemetery? People in the world MAKE MUSIC. All over. All the time. It’s a deeply ingrained facet of human nature.  Yet this family can’t even hum to themselves?  It’s just... too absurd.)

ANYWAY.

Miguel’s family is ridiculous, and based on one (deceased) matriarch’s marching orders, this kid is forced to hide away his one joy in life and feel like a criminal among his own relatives for loving something that the rest of the world loves.  The moment where they present him with his shoe-making apron and cheer about promoting him to official Shoe Maker, I swear in my head I just heard, “Oh! You finally had the noodle dream!”  And when the grandma discovered his stash of music-related treasures and smashes them all in the street in front of him, I just saw Triton destroying Ariel’s human treasures, leaving the poor child in tears, of course.

In this case, the family was MOST DEFINITELY in the wrong. And yet Miguel is punished the second he tries to rebel. He gets cursed into the afterlife (a curse that was NEVER explained, btw) and then the family matirarch who started the whole mess basically holds his life hostage until he agrees to never pursue music again.  The family blessing was paramount.  They looked this little boy in the eyes and forced him to choose between a life without the thing he loves most or NO LIFE AT ALL. 

Yes, yes, I know that the point was that they were in the wrong and that it all worked out in the end because past crimes came to light, and some hearts were melted, and the family came around.  But the fact that Miguel and Hector had to beat the odds, escape capture, expose a murder plot, and tear down the reputation of the biggest celeb in the afterlife just so this old bitch (sorry, I really did like this movie!) would let her great grandson go back to being alive... That’s beyond unreasonable.  Miguel was fantastically lucky, and running into Hector was the most unlikely coincidence in the movie.

EDIT: I’ve been reminded that Dante the spirit dog was involved in leading Miguel to meeting Hector, but that... doesn’t really solve my issue there. That’s writing in a band-aid for a plot hole.  Can’t think up a reason your two long lost relatives would have a one-in-a-billion meeting? Spirits did it.  And honestly for me (maybe because I’m not a little kid any more) the slapstick antics of the dog weren’t especially entertaining or amusing, nor was he written as an actual character instead of a plot device. So I’m not surprised in retrospect that I forgot most of his contributions to the story.

OKAY. Let me make the only real point I wanted to make here:

I was genuinely surprised by the reveal that Hector was Miguel’s real ancestor and that De La Cruz had murdered him.  I think I was surprised because I was unconsciously expecting/hoping for De La Cruz to actually be his ancestor, but that he was simply a shallow, fame-loving, selfish dipshit, and that the Riveras were right to erase his memory from their family tree.  Miguel would have learned that not all family is worth treating like family. And there would be Hector, someone who protected him, guided him, and mentored him, someone who was worthy of including on their family altar. He’d learn that sometimes family can be the people you choose to be your family.

I mean, I get it, the story that they actually set up and carried out.  I liked the twist, really, and the touching backstory with Coco was, of course, very moving. There were tears.

But in the end, I guess I don’t like the convenience of the good guy he just happened to meet being part of his family after all, and the bad guy just being a bad guy, no grey area, no need to feel conflicted over anything.  Also, he never bonded with anyone in the afterlife outside of his personal family, which is, again, kind of a shame.  The entire crux of the movie, the matriarch’s elimination of music from the Rivera line, was based entirely on a misunderstanding, and only by luck (and spirit animals!) did it happen to resolve itself in the end. It still made a boy go through some ten years of cringing and hiding and emotional abuse over nothing he could control, all while framing it with the insistence that “your family loves you!”  They love you... but you have to be unhappy, son. The end. No arguments.

Oops! Sorry, we guess that grudge we were holding over a guy we never met for a great-grammy who’s long gone was our mistake. You go play your guitar. We love you!

Oh, and if this is the modern era, they should really think about making some photocopies of that picture...

#movies #movie critique #long post #coco #pixar coco

[forevans]

can you please do wild love by Elle king with chris evans , btw and oh, the cliché was one of my Favorites of all time , love your work .

😲 thank you!

title: takes love to know lovelength: 1.4k wordslink: wild love - elle king

A soft riff reverberates across Billboard’s bare-bones studio loft; with strategically placed bass traps and acoustic foam over the the hardwood floor, high ceilings and brick walls make for great acoustics. The notes sound out a raw, languid version of the band’s first single.

The lyrics filter through your mind: … ten feet tall standing on a skyscraper—

Someone drops onto the ratty looking sofa beside you and blows into your ear.

Without tearing your eyes from the couple speaking a few feet away, you plant your hand against the side of Jeremy’s face and push him away. Fiona, the journalist who’d introduced herself to the band fifteen minutes ago, and your publicist Cobie look to be in a serious conversation.

“You look like shit,” Jeremy comments.

You take a sip of water and glare at Jeremy down the length of the bottle. “Well, I would’ve slept better if someone”—you glance across from you—“didn’t keep kicking the back of my seat last night.”

“Hey,” Hemsworth grumbles, “they put the seats way too fucking close on that plane. My legs started cramping.” He reaches forward and massages his thighs.

A buzzing string reverberates through the speakers and screeches with feedback, jarring everyone into silence.

“Fuck, Evans,” Mark says, coming in from the bathroom across the loft. “Quit messing around and chill for a sec.”

You wince and look over by the floor-to-ceiling windows where Evans is warming up on his guitar. He’s not usually wound up as tight before a performance, but then again, this will be the first time you’ll be performing the single acoustically, and you’d only made the arrangements yesterday before hopping on a flight here.

Jeremy twists around. “Yeah man, we sounded great during the run through. Take a load off.”

Mark approaches and holds out a hand to you. Raising your brows, you grab it, only to be yanked to your feet and have your seat stolen. He grins, arching a brow in challenge.

You don’t take it however, and simply mutter, “Ass,” and drop your water bottle in his lap. It’s unfortunate that he catches it before it hits anything valuable.

A discordant guitar chord steals your attention, and then you’re lurched forward and almost trip on the rug from a foot on your ass. At the sound of the three dickheads laughing behind you, you throw up your middle finger over your head.

You make your way over to where Evans is sitting against the wooden acoustic diffuser panel on the wall opposite where the band equipment is set up. “Hey.”

His hands stop, the last note left hanging in the air like a question cut off mid-sentence, and he looks up at you with heavy eyes. “Hey.”

You plop down beside him.

“So I was thinking, when Hems plays the little chord progression after the—”

“Shh.”

His brows jump and lips part.

“It’s okay to take a break, you know.”

He exhales through his nose and settles his guitar on the floor with great care. A hand comes up to rub over his strained face. “I’m worried I’m gonna fuck it up. We haven’t practiced nearly enough.”

“Nobody knows this song better than you—You wrote it, after all.” You reach up and fiddle with the red trinket on your necklace. As if unconsciously, his own hand slowly lifts to his own chest where the matching plastic shoe is hidden under his shirt. “‘Heroes Don’t Sleep’.”

It’s the name of the first song you ever wrote together and it’s become something so much more to the both of you. A homing beacon of sorts.

His fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, and he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Thanks.”

This band is everything to you both, but you think it means more to Chris. White Nights started out with the both of you when you were barely out of school and had only your passion driving you.

“Listen up,” Cobie calls out as she herds the rest of the band over to the set up. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Evans pulls himself to his feet then gives you a hand up. He grabs his guitar and you both head over.

“I talked to Fiona, and there was a screw up with their schedule so the interview will be tonight. Dinner’s on them.”

“Fine with me,” Hemsworth says.

Jeremy shrugs. “No problem.”

Mark raises a hand, but before he can voice his concern, Cobie answers, “You’ll have time to visit your family.”

“All right, now that’s settled.” Cobie claps once and rubs her hands together. “Make me look good out there.”

They have the band set up on four stools in a crescent-shaped line and Jeremy on his cajón on one end; you take a seat sandwiched between Hemsworth on your right, Evans on your left, and Mark bringing up the other end on Evans’ other side.

The camera crew dash around as the guys double-check their instruments and you grab your microphone from the stand and test it. Somewhere in the humbug, someone says ‘rolling’, which prompts Jeremy to break into song. His smooth tenor voice sings, “Left a good job in the ci-taaye, workin’ for the man ev’ry night and day.”

Mark comes in on a bass using his mouth and Hemsworth clicks his fingers in time, and soon after the five of you are belting the chorus of the ’60s hit.

Big wheel keep on turnin’Proud Mary keep on burnin’Rollin’—

You break off with a laugh as Evans echoes in a deep baritone. From the corner of your eye, you catch the two cameras trained on the band. “Oh wait, are we actually rolling?”

This derails the impromptu a capella.

Jeremy coughs.

You laugh into your microphone and wave at the camera directly in front of you. “Hi, we’re White Nights, and you’re watching a Billboards special acoustic performance of our single ‘Brave’ from our new record ‘By the Ears’ out next month.”

Hemsworth counts Evans in for the intro riff before following with a subdued tempo of the track’s lively rhythm.

You cross your legs and bounce your foot to keep time. “I’m a balloon and high on helium, you’re the stone tied to the bottom of my string.”

The camera men pace around for different angles, sometimes getting up close for shots of the boys’ instruments. You close your eyes and focus on the music.

The past few months have been stressful as you and the band have been adjusting to the switch to Downey Records. There’s been tension between members and the label, and even within the band itself, about whoever wants a greater role in whatever and the direction White Nights is taking, respectively.

This moment with your boys, each in their element and a complementing piece to a beautiful puzzle, it doesn’t just make the shit you’ve gone through worth it, but it all washes away. Nothing else matters.

“… The heavy words in my mind all fade away…”

The tight groove of Jeremy’s beat and Mark’s bass courses through your body. Hemsworth’s rhythmic strums shine through and harmonises with Evans’ soulful riffs.

It feels like the early days, before your band made it big and your dreams were larger than the money in your pockets.

You open your eyes and turn to find Evans watching you. You reach out and your fingers barely graze his elbow, resting on the body of his guitar. He drops his head and hides his smile as you croon, “You’re the light against the weight of eyes on me.”

Each member has equal say and part in every track. You and Evans share the lyric-writing responsibility. There may be a song or two in each record where the other members contributed lyrically—such as ‘Rosebud’ from their third record that Jeremy wrote for his daughter or ‘Stardust’ from your previous record you all dedicated to your fans—but for this song, Evans poured every part of himself into ‘Brave’.

“… Stormy nights feel like summer rain.” Mark and Hemsworth’s voices mix in with your own, providing the backing vocals. You smile as their contrasting tones blend together with yours so smoothly.

The song carries on to the climactic bridge; your impassioned voice fills up the loft before you break off abruptly for Evan’s heart-pounding guitar solo.

You can feel every note pricking your skin as goosebumps erupt throughout your body. Somewhere during the solo, your eyes drift shut as you fall victim of just how incredible Chris Evans is.

As the song reaches its ending chorus and the notes drift off, you open your eyes again and lock eyes with a camera. You cock your head to the side and stare dead centre as you deliver the final lyric in the deafening silence: “Baby, you make me brave.”

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#music series #chris evans x reader #feedback #otc replies