#granted that they haven't done that much in the past if ever

[reginrokkr]

» @maquiscursed asked: a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort (you know from who 😔)

Every eventide fall brings the most terrifying darkness to those who don't stand entirely under light's shade or luminosity brilliance, whispers of the Abyss grow louder and all demons concealed within roused with invigorated drive to crawl from the skin of the cursed outside or scream in pain byproduct of conflicting celestial light within that, like moonlight will never be silenced by night's black mantle, neither will the abandoned seraph's.

With it comes excruciating pain that never goes away nor it ever ameliorates with continuous building of pain tolerance and, despite Dáinsleif's best effort at concealing it, fair eyebrows knit in a frown within the composure he insists to uphold until he returns to his own chambers. For even if he knows it is safe to present himself however he is to Neuvillette —either out of courtesy of reciprocating the rex's confidence to do so with him, as an expression of shared trust or both—, he loathes to show the worst of him to the Iudex. The most immediate justification for that being his sorrowful gaze at the earliest notice of pain, of concern and lament as if all of this were his own.

Albescent lashes flutter close to take deep breaths, having proved in the past effective to calm his alarmed senses back intro tolerant tranquility just for a little longer until both of them part to sleep each on their room. Amidst his exercise to calm down he feels softness of plush lips pressing a kiss betwixt his brows, prompting Twilight to open them sufficiently to note his beloved's merciful attempt to make him feel better. Stellar pupils quiver within sapphire depths, half-lidded as they are, roseate lips part to heave a sigh of newfound relief he didn't know he would feel when pain flourishes in all its inclemency. ◜Forgive me.◞

It is far from the first time Neuvillette saw this within centuries of blooming relationship the two of them had and even yet, regardless of how much he learned about his own pain spikes, hardly ever it was from his own mouth as much as it must've been from observation alone. Opposite to him, ever the honest one who never once hesitates to communicate how he feels in all his confusion and disorientation as new humane sentiments weigh on his heart, no matter how indecent it may be of him as the maximum exponent of this nation or embarrassing to him, if he ever felt that way. Perhaps... perhaps he would do better in practising the same as Leviathan does, if only to give him more concrete information of what he feels like instead of the sorrowful thought of a mind drifting within a whirlpool's eye with naught specific and thousands of painful beliefs, right or otherwise.

◜I must admit...◞ Strong chest rises and falls in a deep breath, albescent lashes open further to reveal glimmering crystalline blues as his hand reaches for the other to bring it to his face. ◜...you make it feel better.◞ It is not a white lie or a half truth to make Neuvillette feel better, no— but earnest truth to at least give him a spark of hope that not everything is futile and, however little the gestures, they contribute to his betterment. Dáinsleif nuzzles lovingly the palm of the dragon's hand before his own lips plant a soft kiss on the same spot where an intriguing mark is displayed on his gloves, he noticed.

◜The pain tends to grow bigger at night, when the demonic darkness of this world is at its more influential.◞ Hesitant as he is, his refusal to let Neuvillette in the dark despite the knowledge he already counts with is bigger. ◜Strangely enough, it would seem that my nervous system is less prone to confound your touch with a magnified version as per the corruption's distortion. Almost as if... it has grown accustomed to it.◞ There is naught Dáinsleif has to validate this nor he knows if it makes sense altogether, but there is no denial that one way or another, he feels soothed. Either because it has been long enough since he acquainted himself with a merciful, soft touch of another or perhaps because he learned to trust his eyes more, to ground himself more on the dragon's good heart despite the lingering pain.

Long fingers tighten their hold on Leviathan's hand a touch more, glacial sapphires bore into iridescent lavenders, a vulnerable gaze even he would scold himself for presenting himself in such degree of weakness if were he see himself. ◜...Sleep with me, Neuvillette.◞ What would be otherwise a hesitant question born from the belief of being too emboldened is nothing but a plea, in truth— a result of growing confidence in himself that, despite the fact that his broken mind may think otherwise, he, too, matters.

#apocryphis #◟༺✦༻◞ may your sorrow be washed away with tides deliverance; o' mighty dragon ┊neuvillette → maquiscursed.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ let luminous feathers dance under sapphire rain of justice┊dáinsleif × neuvillette.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ what use has the veil of falsehood? ┊ask.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ sapphire flames in their wake ┊ic.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ τόμος θ: Λυκόφως οι θεοί που πέφτουν┊advent of ragnarök.┊ #◟༺✦༻◞ when reason to be shines through. ┊aria of the celestials┊ #he's doing his best to be more vocal like Neuvi is 😔 #also— he's asking him to sleep with him #granted that they haven't done that much in the past if ever #it's really taking the most out of him to be emboldened like this #but it's... a nice change #and it would do wonders to him to sleep together #and wake up warm and emotional because for once #it does feel better to sleep #and not so scary anymore #for the nightmares he tends to have #or the whispers of the Abyss #◟༺✦༻◞ May your sorrow be washed away with tides deliverance; o' mighty dragon ┊Neuvillette → apocryphis.┊

[saja-star]

I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.

When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"

When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...

"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.

"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"

Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."

People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?

#spinning #historical reenactment #fiber arts #history

[heartlyrins]

OUTLUCK THE UNLUCKY !

˚₊‧desc— Kakavasha and his little sister has always been the polar opposite, they say he was born lucky and you were lucky to even be born.

˚₊‧TW— dark content, incest, angst, noncon, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, mental abuse, past child abuse, human trafficking mentions, past trauma, PTSD, porn with plot, baby fever, non-consensual breeding, mentions of lactation, sister wife!reader, yandere!Aventurine, 2.0 and 2.1 lore did not happen here, spoilers for Aventurine's backstory, both of them gone through some tuff stuff

˚₊‧A/N—I made a few changes to Aventurine's backstory and 2.0 w/ 2.1 lore didn't happen here. I changed up my writing style!! Do you like it? Don't read if it's not ur cup of tea hun

Ever since you were born just a couple of years after Kakavasha—your big brother. You were disgraced, labeled as an unlucky being said by the Sigonians.

Whereas Kakavasha was born on a rainy day which was perhaps meant to be a blessing. Meanwhile, you were born on an unlucky day and just moments after your birth, your mother died.

Though as you grew up, you became attached to your big brother. A contrast to your unluckiness, his blessing outpowers your curse therefore you two were bound to be attached to the hip.

A curse you were called, but never by your siblings. They loved you dearly which includes you sister who promised you and Kakavasha the dawn one day.

But the promise were never fulfilled because your sister had died as soon as your birthday arrived. You ran away with Kakavasha.

Soon the both of you were caught and sentenced to death by the IPC— but your brother got the both of you out of that punishment, you never knew how he did it and the only thing he told you was 'not to worry.'

You fit into the lifestyle pretty quickly, everything was done by your brother. You just had to sit still and be pretty, as he said.

Soon he became the very thing that ruined yours and his life—an IPC staff, but still you couldn't shake the very feeling that you both were still just a slave, no matter how much credits you were buried in.

You were granted a house, a luxurious one, probably afforded from the IPC's money. He was doing everything for you, even though you wanted to help him at least a little bit.

You wanted to alleviate his burden. But seeing the very thing that burdens yourself—you don't think that you could help.

So you did the only thing that you could manage, become a housewife for him. At mornings he would wrap his arms around your waist and sometimes you felt like a real marriage couple.

He gives you kisses on your cheek as he stares at the wound you received from chopping up the vegetables— again.

Sometimes he would bring your fingers up to his lips just to lick them clean just to see your embarrassed expression.

Which brings you to the present situation.

"Kakavasha—I.." you were cut off with a groan from him as he hides his face in your neck.

"Don't call me that, I go by Aventurine now with other people, remember?" his breath hits your soft skin before he snakes his hands under your blouse.

"We're not in front of other people now.. And it's not like I get to meet anyone else.." you mumble—far too late to take back your words.

He gives you an 'mm' before gripping your sides harder that it was sure to leave a bruise. From his reaction, you were sure he wasn't pleased with your words.

"You don't need anyone else but me, you know that right?" he mutters before helping you to put down the knife you were holding to chop the vegetables.

"I know that.. But I haven't gone out ever since we've gotten this house.. And that was a few years back."

"But I do let you out. To buy groceries."

"Kakavasha—you know that's not what I meant. I want to go out freely, without you sending those IPC guards after me or tracking me.. Or even—!"

"[name]." the tone in his voice makes you stop, you know that's when he's fed up with your words. He pulls his hands out of your blouse before staring at you.

He grabs the sharp and brandished knife before gripping your chin with his free hand to make you face the knife, you could see your reflection.

"Look at yourself." he grips your chin tighter, "Do you see your face? It's full with scars that results in whenever I'm not there—remember, you're the unlucky child who needs me as a lucky charm to protect yourself."

"You need me." he drops the knife on the cutting board before kissing your lips and biting your lips until it bled.

He sighs as his demeanor starts appearing right back and he smiles on again with the same, sly smile.

"Don't speak of this again." he warns you before kissing your cheek and walks away like nothing happened at all.

He waits by the door as he tries to fix his tie, horribly messing it up once again before you came to the rescue and does it for him.

"I'm going now," he says as he puts on his shoes, "I'm going to be late today, don't wait for me." he merely says before placing a kiss right on your forehead.

Once he leaves the house, everything seems dark. Sometimes it seems like that you were the epitome of darkness—and he was the light that shines on your life.

Whenever he isn't there, parts of you disappear.

"Big brother, we can't leave our sister behind!" the small you sobbed when he pulled on your wrist to drag you forcefully from the chaos.

"Sister sacrificed her life for us, we have to run,[name]. I promised sister I won't let anything happen to you." he stops for a moment as he looks right into your teary eyes.

You stared back at the chaos happening behind you, that day—everything was red like the clothes you wore on that exact day.

You were dragged once again to keep moving forward by Kakavasha, but once you stared right ahead—the little hand dragging you were gone.

The only light within your life was gone, where did he go? What are you gonna do? What would you do without the light that guides you—you thought as you broke down in sobs until your body felt a warmth wrapping around you.

You can hear your name from the distance being called once again, it's Kakavasha. You were sure it was as you open your eyes to come back to the real world.

"[name], wake up. You had a dream." your brother— the grown up version of him was her once again and you sigh in relief.

You hate that dream—it was the same dream with different endings. One that would have a happy outcome.

"Did you have that dream again?" he asks and wraps his arm around you, it was the same warmth in that dream.

You hum as he sighs once again, in a pitiful way or somehow a sympathetic one. Eitherway, his hand snakes just above your waistband and sticks his hand in your panties.

"Mmn—" you groaned and look at the time, "Stop it, I'm not in the mood.." you retaliate, sometimes he would back off at times like this—especially during your vulnerable moment.

"I saw a baby today at my workplace, one of my co-worker's no doubt. They looked so happy, can't we have one too?"

"I—you know we can't have that. We're siblings, what would the world says?" you push his arm off that's groping one of your boobs.

"I don't care what people says about us, I don't even care how the Aeons view us." he moans as he humps your ass.

"Stop it, 'm not in the mood right now.." You whimper and attempts to get away from his obvious dick imprint humping you.

He stayed silent and kept a tight grip on your hips, sliding your shorts and panties off with his other hand.

"We're not supposed to be doing this.." you mutter and almost retch as he forces his fingers in your mouth.

"Just be good for me, little sister. Haven't I done enough for you? I need this." he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he's already pulling his fingers out of your mouth and already sneaking between your thighs.

"You say things as if you aren't wet right now.." he spreads your lips apart to admire your pussy before giving a testing lick and moans at the taste.

He wraps his lips around your little nub as he sucks on it, thrusting his fingers inside whilst licking your slit up and down.

Your first reflex was trying to push his head off—moaning and struggling to push him off so you laid off the fight and just accepted it after awhile.

"Pussy's so wet, stop lying and just tell me that you wanted this." he pills away and sighs as he finishes his meal, your juices slipping down his chin.

He licks his lips and pushes his cock inside you, not even giving you a warning or time to wait. He groans as he pushes in all at once.

"So good, mhm. You're so good to me, lil sis. Gonna make you a fucking mommy! yeah, you want that?" he slaps your face almost gently to wake you up from your trance before groping your tits.

He leans down and sucks on it, appreciating the size of it while he sloppily thrusts his big cock inside of you.

"Fuck, fuck.. Can't wait to see these tits swell with milk." he moans and looks at your face, you seemed so out of it.

He can't miss the way that your lips scream the words trailing along, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" in an almost high pitched tone.

When you clench around him, he doesn't even stop for a moment. Just going at a faster pace which makes you even more out of it as you hold onto whatever you can.

And when he cums— he pulls out and shoves it back in all at once making you squeal and raise your hips as you came once again.

"We're gonna do this for at least another three times, I need to make sure you're knocked up." he groans as he felt you clench.

As he thrusts deeply once more, you can feel a part of yourself disappears. The warmth you felt from him was no more, instead what you felt was pleasure—accompanied by a sense of sadness.

You can feel tears hitting your cheek and you look up to see your big brother crying, while also trying to maintain a stable composure.

"I don't want to lose you." he sobs out as you reach for his cheek to caress the soft flesh. He leans into your soft touch with reluctance, so hesitant to show a moment of vulnerablity to everyone except for you.

"I can't lose you, please don't leave me as everyone did. You're not— you're not the source of anyone's misery, I didn't believe it when you were called unlucky. Because to me— you're the very thing that made me so happy, I want to be with you forever. I don't care if everyone else leave me."

You smile—not because you find this situation comforting, because it was so incredibly hysterical that he depended on you as much as you depended on him.

Once he's faced with your smile, he loses his composure and spills his seed in your womb while hiding his face in your neck again.

"I don't care how many nightmares I have from that night, I don't care if everyone blames you for our parent's death. All I want to be is with you."

That's when you realize, he is stuck with you just as you were stuck with him.

#tw.noncon #tw.dark content #tw.dubcon #tw.incest #aventurine noncon #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #yandere aventurine #star rail aventurine #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine angst #angst #hsr angst #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail noncon

[natashasnoodle]

I'm Tired | Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Your roommate is one annoying individual and you haven't managed to sleep in months. After reaching the end of your tether you have been reduced to taking the next resort, bunking with a stranger. College AU.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Most nights you had been getting a severe lack of sleep, which wasn't great when you had to wake up for your 8 am lectures. Your roommate Wanda was an absolute sweetheart, the only issue was her new boyfriend, Vision. Before Vision entered the scene, the two of you would study together, watch a movie, and fall asleep at midnight or before. Like the responsible students that you were.

Though ever since Vision, they're up until the early hours of the morning cuddling and chatting whilst watching TV shows. Granted, the main light was always off as a common courtesy to you, but their voices and blaring light from the laptop kept you awake until they got tired and turned it off. Much to your dismay, this rarely occurred before 2 am.

You just weren't confrontational and she seemed so happy, so you didn't have the heart to tell them that they were being the most annoying people in your life currently, and the bar was low. You knew a lot of annoying people.

Another thing that annoyed you is that even without makeup, Wanda would still look stunning waking up every morning after 4 hours of sleep every day. You had to slap on some concealer so that you didn't look like the demon panda from hell. Oh, how you envied people who won the genetic lottery in terms of eye bags and dark circles.

The current night was a particularly bad one. They had started binge-watching "Sweet Tooth" on Netflix, and instead of doing a couple of episodes a night like they normally would do to finish up 'early', they kept watching and watching until they had finished the whole thing. You had been drifting in and out of sleep for hours, but when a new noise blasted from the laptop, your eyes would fly open.

When it was time to wake up and get ready after only getting an hour of uninterrupted sleep you felt all kinds of nauseous and lightheaded, but you were determined to get to class. You rushed into your shared bathroom before Wanda could get a chance to use the shower, and quickly scrubbed at your teeth and tried to style your hair, though your blurry eyes meant that your hands were not cooperating.

After giving up with just throwing it up with a hair tie, you tried your hardest to hide the dark circles that were painfully obvious under your eyes, though no amount of makeup was enough to hide the damage that was done to your skin last night. Once you deemed yourself somewhat respectable, you moved out of the bathroom to throw on whatever clothes appeared in your wardrobe first and left with a granola bar in hand.

You let your feet carry you on autopilot and somehow ended up on the right part of campus. Without even spotting your friends, you were about to walk straight past them, but luckily they noticed you in your zombie-like trance and grabbed ahold of you, pushing you onto your normal space on the bench that you had claimed. Shuri and Kate gave each other concerned glances as they looked at your out-of-it state, before Kate waved a hand in front of your face, snapping you back into reality.

"Hm?", you spoke before yawning and stretching. "How long were you out last night, and why didn't you invite us?", Shuri gave you a playful shove, which you just groaned at, the rattling movement of your head sending a sharp pain through your skull.

"Jeez, seriously what happened to you?", Kate tried, taking the more cautious approach than Shuri, treating you like a deer in headlights as her eyes flashed with worry. "Wanda", you spoke again between a yawn, and the pair beside you rolled their eyes. They knew all about how you had rarely been getting any sleep and kept trying to convince you to tell her to have a 'no sounds past midnight' rule, but you always ignored them. Again, you didn't have a single confrontational bone in your body.

There wasn't much time for them to be able to lecture you though, as you all had to go to your actual lecture, so they linked arms with you and led you over to your first class of the day, which you promptly fell asleep in. Kate had to keep pinching your thigh to keep you awake so that you didn't feel the wrath of Agatha, your ancient culture studies professor.

This was a continuous theme throughout the day, though towards the end of it Shuri had to resort to stomping on your foot with all of her might with the shoes she made that makes no sound. Unfortunately, you were capable of making sound, so you had to hold in your yelps of pain as your foot thumped angrily with the constant disturbance to its peace.

Luckily, you made it through the day and the two walked you back to your dorm, and tucked you in, making sure that you stayed in bed as you had spent the entire walk home babbling about the work you had to catch up on. Though that was important, your two friends knew that you were in desperate need of sleep first. At least a nap.

They left your room content with you getting some well-needed rest, hoping to see you in better spirits tomorrow. You instantly drifted off into a deep slumber, your body basically shutting down from exhaustion. But you only got three hours of sleep before the couple from the depths of Tartarus came bounding through the door. Wanda winced as she spotted your sleepy form stretching under the covers, then sitting up as you rubbed your eyes.

You squinted at them from across the room, your eyes still blurry from the gorgeous sleep that you were rudely ripped away from. "Sorry", she grimaced before chuckling playfully, "It's 5 though! Wake up lazy guts", she walked over and patted where your knees were under the cover before moving over to her bed, Vision following as they got out some of their class resources to start working from.

Immediately you wanted to scream into a pillow, though you didn't want the embarrassment that would come with that, so you begrudgingly reached for your laptop and began completing some worksheets that had been assigned to your class. Your eyes were comically wide as you tried to stare at the screen, urging your brain cells to do something.

They came through after an hour of working on a sheet that should have taken ten minutes, but you counted it as an absolute win and got up to make yourself some noodles. Having only eaten a granola bar and a packet of crisps that day, you practically inhaled the bowl too before settling back down into bed again, curled up into a ball.

Grateful for Vision and Wanda doing some studying, you tried to fall back asleep with the quiet atmosphere, but just as your eyes started drooping, you heard the dreaded theme tune of one of her sitcoms, and the chuckles that came alongside it. Sleep was not going to be a luxury that you could afford any time soon.

Hours passed and you felt like crying. Your body was screaming at you to get some sleep, but the laptop speakers across the room from you were shutting that idea down. Your head was pounding, your mouth was dry and your hands were tingling. Months of minimal sleep were fully starting to catch up to you, and it was not healthy.

At some point during the night, at about 3 am, your mind snapped. You needed to get out of that room, you would sleep in the hallway if you had to. So, you grabbed your comfortable, fluffy blanket from the bottom of your bed and wrapped it around your shoulders, clinging onto it for dear life at the front. "I'm just gonna get some air", you announced to a confused Wanda who frowned but nodded in acceptance. She had thought that you were asleep.

You stepped foot outside of your room, and immediately a draft from the air vents hit you, making you very aware that you were just in your pyjamas. Looking around the dark hallway a little helplessly, you were preparing to sit on the floor and sleep against the wall. It was better than having to sleep in there.

But just before you were about to sit you spotted some light streaming out from underneath the cracks of a door at the other end of the long hallway. So, you started your journey towards it. Like a moth drawn to a flame.

When you reached the door you hesitated with your fist in the air, ready to knock. But when another cold draft hit you, your hand instinctually knocked lightly, conscious of others nearby who were most likely sleeping. You heard some shuffling from behind the door, and you immediately felt nervous. It had only just dawned on you that you had knocked on some stranger's door at three in the morning. They may have even been sleeping but accidentally left the light on, the light was not a valid indicator that this person was awake, though you were proved wrong when the person opened the door fully clothed. Unless they are some weirdo who sleeps in jeans.

When you made eye contact with the woman behind the door you were immediately taken away by her stunning green eyes and her red hair. But you swallowed thickly and stumbled out your next line of words as she looked at you expectedly, confused at why you were at her door at this ungodly hour. "Sorry for disturbing you so late- or early I guess. My roommate always has her partner over and they always watch shit until like 4 am and I haven't slept in months", you sighed.

The harsh stare of the redhead soon turned soft as she took note of how your eyes didn't seem to be able to focus on one thing and how bloodshot they were. It looked painful. "You knocked on the right door", she spoke without smiling but her tone was kind, which confused your sleep-deprived self very much, "I live alone, my roommate lives with her girlfriend now, so you can take the spare bed for the night if you want", she offered with a shrug.

Your eyes lit up which made the corner of her lips twitch up ever so slightly, not that it was noticed by you, you were too busy practically drooling over the fact that there was an empty bed in the vicinity with your name on it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you", you rushed out and she moved out of the way to let you in, gesturing over to the bed in the corner of the room.

Her laptop was open on a PowerPoint presentation and her notebook was open in front of it, so you guessed that she had been doing some late-night studying, but she quickly shut her laptop and packed her notebook away whilst you clambered into bed and wrapped the duvet around yourself. She could see how much you needed the sleep, and she could finish off the final part of her notes on her lunch break tomorrow.

Even with the light on, you had immediately fallen asleep. The fact that it was a quiet room was enough for your brain to drift off, and now that you couldn't see her, she smiled softly at your now relaxed features and quickly went into her bathroom to get into her own pyjamas, before turning the light off and slipping into her own bed.

You slept like a baby for the remainder of that night and woke up feeling ever so slightly more refreshed than you had done for a while. Due to having none of your things in her room, you had to bid her farewell fairly early in the morning so that the two of you could get ready for your respective classes. Though you found out that her name was Natasha, and she insisted that it was no problem that you stayed over when you started apologising as soon as you were both awake.

The newfound energy that you had did not go unnoticed by your friends who were happy to see that you weren't on the verge of collapsing. Though the energy did not last long at all. The next month was worse than the last, and you truly did not know how Wanda and Vision were not dead. You felt like a walking corpse every day, and you had been tempted many times to go to Natasha again and again, but you didn't want to disturb her too much, so only settled for when you were truly desperate.

She had insisted that you hadn't been bothering her, but you didn't know if she was just being polite, so you still kept the visits to a minimum. She was a nice person and you felt like you had connected with her on your last few visits, indulging in some conversation before going to sleep. She had been a very closed-off person when you first met her, but now she would freely talk to you and would look very happy to see you.

You had promised yourself not to visit Natasha at 3 am again for a few more days as your last visit had been rather recent, but you had reached a breaking point and you needed her. Tears pooled in your eyes as Wanda and Vision started watching "Kimmy Schmidt" at 2 am. You were so tired.

You felt sick constantly these days, and you knew that you couldn't go on much longer with the amount of disturbed sleep that you were getting. So, again you stood up with your blanket and announced that you were going to get some air. You shuffled over to Natasha's room and saw that the light was still on, causing a smile to break out on your face for a second, but then the exhaustion overpowered you again as some of those tears started rolling down your cheeks.

She answered quickly after you had knocked, and this time she answered in her pyjamas, almost as if she was expecting you at some point over the next few days. She went to give you a hello and a smile, but when her eyes took in your appearance she was shocked.

The last time you had seen her you had looked tired sure, but this time you really did look unwell. She took notice of the tears streaming down your face, how puffy your under eye was, how dry your lips were, and you were shivering under your blanket. "I'm sorry", you whimpered as a sob escaped your lips, "I'm just so tired".

"Oh, honey", she said soothingly and tugged you into her room, shutting the door and wrapping her arms around you after. You clung on for dear life as you cried into her shoulder, though she didn't mind. She rocked you from side to side and rubbed your back reassuringly. Whilst you were standing by the door she took the opportunity to turn the light off, the darkness immediately soothing your sore eyes.

Your cries subsided after a few minutes of standing in the darkness, which Natasha was happy about. She hated seeing you upset. Though you had come into her life in an unusual way, she couldn't imagine hers without you now, and it was rare for Natasha to feel a connection to someone so soon. She had even planned on asking you out the next night that she saw you, but now her main focus was on calming you down for the night. Luckily, it was a Friday night so she didn't have to wake you up in the morning for class.

You were basically already falling asleep in her arms, which she could tell as you had started getting heavier in her hold. Swiftly and with ease, she looped an arm under one of your legs and lifted you up, your other leg wrapping around her waist without a single thought going into it. Being in Natasha's arms felt natural and safe.

Her heart melted at how much you trusted her whilst you were in such a vulnerable state, and with help of muscle memory, she navigated over to her bed in the dark and laid down with you still clinging to her, placing the duvet over the top of the both of you for warmth.

When she placed a kiss on the crown of your head and started to run her fingers through your hair, you hummed in contentment and pushed your head further into the crook of her neck. Only when she felt your breath even out did she fall asleep, knowing that you were okay. She would make sure that you were okay. Always. 

-4 months later-

"Nat?", you shouted from your en suite bathroom out into your dorm room, though you got no response. With a sigh you yelled her name again, and yet again not a peep could be heard from your girlfriend. With a huff and narrowed eyes, you swivelled on the balls of your feet and looked towards the bathroom door expectedly, maybe Natasha had heard you and was about to walk into the room. However, your hopes did not come true.

Dramatically you ran a hand through your hair, "Tasha!", you yelled from your place, and immediately she popped her head around the corner with a disgruntled look. "Baby you know I hate that nickname", she pouted slightly with an amused glint in her eyes, causing you to laugh. In front of everyone else, Natasha was a closed book, she never wanted anyone to know what she was feeling. 'Showing emotions shows people you're vulnerable', she would always say whenever you brought it up. But with you, she never hid how she felt away.

The fact that she felt safe enough to be herself around you always made a warm feeling spread through your chest whenever you were reminded of it, such as now. The pet names and funny faces were a quick reminder that this was your Natasha. Or, 'your Tasha' as you liked to tease her. "I know but you weren't responding to your normal name!", you exasperated, it wasn't your fault that you had to resort to other measures to get her attention.

"Oh... sorry", Nat frowned, "I was just closing up one of your boxes and got distracted I guess", she shrugged, though the sudden change in demeanour jolted you. Due to you getting zero hours of sleep with Wanda and Vision continuing their usual antics, when you started dating Nat you basically spent all of your time in her room thanks to the spare bed. After four months of dating, she started to get sick of you having to leave and spend your time in between both rooms, so she suggested that you officially transfer dorms and move into her room.

It was a big step, but since you had basically been living there anyway it made sense for you to have all of your things in one place. Plus, you and Natasha were excited to be able to spend even more time with each other, if that was possible. The two have you had been very excited in the leadup to the transfer, so her sudden change worried you. "Hey, are you okay?", you took a few steps forward to reach where she was leaning on the doorframe and ran a soft hand down her arm, leading to interlock your fingers.

Nat seemed to hesitate, but the way that your eyes shone with adoration and seemingly stared into her soul made her feel like she could say what was wrong. It was you. She was safe. "I know I'm not easy to love, I don't show my feelings the same way that others do- I don't know I guess I'm just worried that you're going to get sick of me".

Your heart broke at her insecurities shining through, and anger bubbled up aimed at whoever had made her feel like that. "Woah, who told you that you're hard to love?", you said with wide eyes, genuinely shocked. You received an answer in the form of her jaw tightening and swallowing harshly. She didn't want to talk about it.

Sending a soft smile her way, you shook your head, "You're so easy to love sweetheart, so easy, I love everything about you. I could never get sick of you, you're my person".

"You're my person too", she whispered as unshed tears lined her eyes, and she dipped her head down slightly, brushing her lips against yours before you took the next step and leaned in further, capturing hers. It was slow and intimate as your hands travelled up her back and hers resided on your waist, proving in totality how you feel for each other. How you get butterflies every time she walks into a room, how all air escaped her lungs the first time she heard your morning voice, how her touch made fireworks explode in your heart, and how your smile made her feel at home.

When a creaking noise could be heard in the main room, you two pulled away with soft smiles before she guided you out hand in hand, finding Wanda and Vision standing looking around the room, your half now empty aside from the cardboard boxes that were scattered about the space. Even after everything you and Wanda were still good friends, you just couldn't share a space with her. She had always made sure that you were eating well, she invited you on impromptu trips out to coffee shops or ice cream parlours, and you would help each other with essay reviews. You couldn't ask for a better friend, she was just a shoddy roommate. Though the fact that you were moving out of the room made you feel nostalgic for time passed, and apparently she felt the same.

As she looked at your side of the room you spotted her bottom lip wobbling slightly and you felt your heart drop, "Oh, Wands", you cooed and engulfed her in a big bear hug. She chuckled tearily and squeezed you back, "Promise you'll still come and hang out?", she pleaded against your shoulder, and you nodded with an "Of course". When you pulled away from the hug you gave each other a small nod with a thousand hidden meanings. But the time had finally come for you to say goodbye to her. Just for now. After all, she was only a few doors down.

Whilst you and Wanda said your final goodbyes, Natasha and Vision worked together on moving the boxes over to your now shared room. You felt guilty for not helping with the heavy work, but Natasha kept reassuring you that it was okay and that it was more important for you to be able to say goodbye. You grinned at her being so understanding as you made your way over to your new room. The afternoon and evening was spent unpacking all of your things, eating pizza, and listening to the 'Do Revenge' Spotify playlist. The last one was self-explanatory, it's a great soundtrack.

When everything was unpacked and the two of you looked at your handiwork, you felt a great sense of joy overcome you. You were sharing a home, albeit a small college dorm, but still a home, with the person that made you feel the safest in the world. You were beyond ecstatic. Though this feeling soon plummeted when you saw Nat frowning at your side and tutting. "This won't do", she sighed and released her grip that was around your waist.

At first, you had thought that maybe she had suddenly changed her mind, which would be shitty considering you had just unpacked all of your stuff, but when she began awkwardly shuffling your bed across the room, a grin spread across your face again.

Her chest heaved when she had accomplished her task, and she joined you at your side again, snaking her hand back around your waist. She had pushed the beds together, making your heart swell for the hundredth time that day. "We will need new bedsheets to fit as it's now a double, but whaddya think?", she questioned and nervously chewed on her lip.

"It's perfect", you breathed out and looked at Natasha with heart eyes before jumping on the bed in a starfish position with a giggle, an amused Nat rolling her eyes behind you. You lay in peace for a few seconds, before a grunt escaped your lips as a certain redhead landed on top of you, your face now smushed into the pillows.

Before you could complain, she wrapped her arms around you and rolled over, her back on the mattress and yours on her front. "Are we just gonna lie like this?", you spoke with a blank face, it was a rather awkward position. But when Nat replied with a chirpy "Yep!", and squeezed you tighter, her face nuzzling into the back of your neck, you couldn't help but smile. You never wanted her to let you go. 

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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Natasha Romanoff Taglist:@diaryoflife @unlady-like-12-25-36

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff college au #black widow

[lets-just-daydream]

I Loved You First - Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Warning: smut

Chapter 7: The Main Course

You laid back in your bed, staring up at Astarion who had crawled onto your bed and over you. “The night is still so young and there's still so much I want to do with you.” 

You gulped. “Like what?” 

Astarion chuckled and pulled his shirt off, exposing his toned torso. “I can show you far better than I can tell you.” 

Your brain short-circuited and you felt your jaw drop slightly. His skin was smooth and muscular, his muscles rippling as he moved. Heat shot straight to your core and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slipping past your lips and tangling with yours. You let out a surprised groan but allowed him in, your body arching for his touch. He held himself up with one hand and caressed the side of your breast with his other, his thumb rubbing against the material of your dress. 

“Do allow me to take this off, won't you?” Astarion asked, tugging at the fabric. 

You so desperately wanted to say yes and grant him everything he ever asked for. But the thought of Astarion undressing you instilled a bit of fear in you. 

“Um…” You hesitated. 

At your hesitation, Astarion instantly pulled back and moved his hands away. “I've made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry.” 

“No!” You rushed out. “You haven't done anything, I'm just… You're so beautiful,” you said, gesturing to him. “I don't think I could compare.”

Astarion's expression softened as he looked down at you with admiration. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love all of what I see.” 

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. 

“Good girl,” Astarion breathed as you sat up and he turned you around to free you from your dress. 

You shivered as his cold fingers brushed against your skin, slipping the dress down past your shoulders. He pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades and a moan slipped from your lips. 

Astarion smiled against your skin and continued to slide the dress off you, kissing each new inch of exposed flesh until he finally made it down to the base of your back. You held in the groan that threatened to slip as he mouthed at the skin he found, finally slipping your dress all the way off. 

You looked behind you to see Astarion with a look of pure lust on his face and you nearly shrank away before he wrapped his arm around your waist. He brushed his nose against your ear and pressed a kiss to the skin just under it, causing you to shudder and lean into him. 

You weren't sure how much longer you could last with Astarion's featherlight teases and touches on your skin. Your body was screaming for him and you could swear he could sense your body was hungry for him. 

He took the dress and held it to his body, deeply inhaling the scent that lingered from your skin. His eyes turned hungry and your core throbbed as he leveled you with his hungry gaze. He tossed the dress to the ground and pulled you around to face him, his eyes taking from your bruised neck and down your pretty body. 

You moved to shield your body with your arms but he grabbed them and softly pinned them by your sides. 

“I don't think so,” Astarion breathed. “I want to worship every inch of you.”

You let out a whimper as he pushed you onto your back and crawled over you once again. You couldn't help but rake your eyes down his body and pausing when you saw that he had a sizable bulge in his pants. 

You reached for his waistband and he smirked before he leaned back and untied the laces holding his length. He let out a soft groan as he pulled his pants and underwear down and off of himself, his erection springing free. 

You felt your mouth begin to water at the sight of the pink head shining with precum. You dropped your mouth open and stuck out your tongue slightly, wordlessly begging for him to slip himself inside. 

Astarion raised a brow in surprise. “You precious thing,” Astarion breathed, wrapping his fingers around himself and pumping slowly. “You want to suck my cock?” 

You nodded, looking up at him with your mouth still open and waiting. 

“Beg for it, and I might consider it,” Astarion said, continuing to pump himself, his eyes hooded over as he reached his free hand out and pressed his thumb down on your tongue. 

You wrapped your lips around his thumb even though it wasn't his cock which you so desperately craved. You flicked your tongue along the pad of his thumb and he let out a deep exhale, his fingers wrapping around your chin. You pulled away from his thumb and looked down at his cock. 

“Please, Astarion,” you breathed. “Let me please you.”

He smiled down at you, leaning his length over your face. “You beg so nicely, my sweet.” 

You didn't waste a moment before taking his head into your mouth and licking at his slick slit. He let out a muffled grunt and you took him further into your mouth, flattening your tongue and hollowing your cheeks as you began to bob your head back and forth. One of his hands snaked into your hair and he tangled his fingers into it. 

“Darling,” he breathed, looking down at you. 

You looked up at him and made a loud slurping sound as you took him to the back of your throat, trying with every bit of your concentration not to gag. You swallowed around him and he threw his head back with a cry before quickly removing himself from your mouth. He came down and kissed your swollen lips with a heated fever, his fingers beginning to slowly inch lower and lower down your body. 

He moaned your name into your lips and inserted the tip of his finger inside you, teasing your folds before another finger joined and he slipped them inside. 

You let out a soft cry and he leaned back so he could watch your face. 

“Gods, you're beautiful,” he murmured as he took in your flushed skin and panting chest. 

He pumped his fingers in and out of you and moved his thumb to your clit and rubbed soft circles into it, causing you to clap a hand over your mouth before you let out what would have been a loud moan. 

Astarion gripped your wrist and pulled your hand away from your face. “We're the only ones here, darling, and I want to hear every delicious noise you make.

Your brows furrowed as you let out a whimper, your hips now rolling to meet Astarion's fingers with each pump. He slowly pulled his fingers out and you sat up on your elbows to watch as he laid one your legs down and leaned down to press a kiss to your other knee. 

He positioned himself between your legs and leaned over you, taking his cock in hand and giving it a couple of pumps before pressing it to your entrance. He rubbed the tip between your folds and you let out a ragged gasp, his eyes trained on every micro expression you made. He wanted to know what you liked and what you loved. He wanted to make sure that you would only crave him for the rest of your days. 

He began to slide in slowly and you bit your lip, turning your face away. You couldn't keep still as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his generous size. Astarion's hand came between the pillow and your cheek and pulled you back to look at him. 

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” 

You nodded with a pathetic whimper and he continued to slide inside of you until his hips met your pelvis. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, his eyes boring into yours and you could swear you might melt into nothingness right then and there. 

He pulled out and then thrusted back into you, his face scrunching into a look of debauched pleasure. You could come from the sight of him alone if you tried hard enough. You throbbed around his length and he let out a grunt as he pumped in and out of you at a slow pace, his hips rolling against you like a trance. 

“This feels amazing,” Astarion groaned into your ear. “Having sex with someone of my own volition is… addictive.” 

You flushed at the compliment, and wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him close. Astarion let out a choked moan, burying his face in your neck as he picked up the pace, pistoning into you at a steady rhythm. You rubbed a hand down his back and froze when you felt various bumps and marks where you expected smooth skin. You felt Astarion stiffen under your fingers and over your body but only for a fleeting moment before he gave you a sharp thrust that knocked the air from you and you were brought into a state of bliss once again as he mouthed at your neck sloppily. 

His ear was within reach of your mouth and you gave yourself a sly smile before taking the tip of his pointed ear into your mouth and nibbling it. Astarion let out an unexpected cry and buried himself deep inside you, his movements stopping for a moment. 

He leaned up and you were met with his red flushed face, neck and chest. 

“This will be over far too soon if you play with me like that,” Astarion huffed out with a laugh. 

“It's a good thing we have until dawn, then,” you replied. 

Astarion chuckled as he resumed his thrusts, his fingers coming down to stroke your clit as he hammered into you now. 

“I want to see your face as you come undone around me,” Astarion said gruffly. “I want to hear my name cried from your lips.” 

You dared not look away from Astarion's piercing gaze as you felt yourself begin to come undone. Your chest heaved as you let out a string of moans and expletives, Astarion groaning in unison with you, his eyes trained on your face. 

He pressed against your clit and your body froze in a moment of ecstasy as you gripped onto Astarion's arm like a vice. His name fell from your lips as he flooded your every sense. He let out a moan and cried your name as he buried himself deep inside you, emptying himself in you with a final, weak thrust. 

He pulled himself out of you and you watched as he moved away and off the bed. You caught sight of what looked like raised scars on his back. You winced before realising he was picking up his clothes. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, raising a brow. 

Astarion had his shirt in hand when he paused at your question. He looked at your ravaged body and then around the room before furrowing his brows. 

“I…” 

“Stay with me,” you said, extending your hand out to him. 

Astarion looked slightly uncomfortable, but climbed back into the bed with you, slightly unsure what to do. You patted a hand on your chest and he leaned down, gently placing his head on your chest and wrapping an arm and leg around you. 

“You… want me to stay?” Astarion asked with caution. 

“Of course. Sex is great of course, and this was… Well I don't need to tell you how good you are. But this bit afterward is one of the best parts,” you said with a yawn. “Wouldn't you agree?” 

Astarion's jaw stiffened. “I couldn't say,” he said sadly. 

You paused. You realised he's probably had sex more times than he could ever recall but what happened when he was done? You didn't think he or his victims were ever around long enough for a cuddle now that you really pondered it. 

You said nothing and draped one arm over his arm and snaked your fingers into his hair and rubbed his head. A soft whimper slipped from the back of his throat but you didn't say anything about it and he was grateful. He nuzzled closer into your chest and you both knew that he'd never felt such a moment of peace like this. You wanted this moment to stretch on forever, even if it was just for him. 

“I know you're going to ask,” Astarion mumbled against your skin. “Cazador did that to me, to all of us.” 

You looked down at him wordlessly. He tilted his head up and your heart broke at the sad look on his face.

“Cazador took great pleasure in inflicting those wounds on me,” Astarion began. “One night, after he'd been away for a few days he came back and dragged me from my bed to his little office. He had… I don't know some sort of scroll in hand as he carved this poem into me. It was excruciating and any cry, any movement or twitch I made, he'd start again. He was at it from dusk until dawn from what I can remember.” 

“Oh, my…” 

“After he was finished with all of us,” Astarion said, tracing his fingers on your cold, sweaty skin. “He looked at all of us and said that I was his favourite to work on. That my screams… sounded sweetest.” 

Your heart shattered and you felt like you were going to throw up but this wasn't about you. And you tried to push from your mind that you were about to be married to this monster. Suddenly you didn't care that Astarion held your heart and had control over your body. You might kill Cazador with your bare hands if you could pull it off. 

“I'm so sorry, Astarion,” you whispered, curling your body around him, as if you could protect him from further horrors. 

“Sorry for what? You didn't do this to me.”

“Well, no. But my heart still hurts for you.” 

Astarion sat up slightly and gave you a soft look, his eyes round and vulnerable. “Your heart hurts for a monster like me?”

“You're not a monster, Astarion.”

His hand came up and caressed the tender skin where he'd bitten you twice now. 

“That doesn't count,” you said. “Everything that's happened to you, isn't your fault.”

Astarion leaned up and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. “It's comforting to me that you think that, my love.” 

You gave Astarion a smile and gave him another kiss before leaning back into your pillows and feeling your eyes slip shut. 

You felt Astarion shift and he came up to nuzzle his face into your neck, his limbs still wrapped around your body. “I know you said we had all night, but I think this is all I want to do for the rest of the night,” Astarion said with a chuckle, his breath tickling your neck.  

“Anything you like,” you said with a yawn before exhaustion took over your body. 

As you slept, Astarion gazed at your sleeping face, his fingers skimming your body. He could never get enough of you. He could never give you up to Cazador. He would sooner perish in the sun before giving you up.

Part 8

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic

[gopher-jade]

What endlessly frustrates me about the writing in the moon arc is that it is so focused on technobabble and philosophical arguments that it completely neglects what even made honkai such a good story in the first place - the masterful portrayal of the characters' emotions, struggles and growth.

We love Kiana because we saw and heard how she was a bratty kid, and then became depressed, and then slowly climbed out of that hellhole. Props to the translaters, the scriptwriters, the voice actors, the staff behind the CGs. Mei's arc was heart-rending also because we saw how crushed she was by Kiana's struggles. Seele in CG slamming her fist on the ground and crying to herself, "Move, you coward!" will always haunt me. Veliona seeming like a psychopath and being pit against Saule and then eventually reconciling was the best thing ever, because the team really did such a good job of making it really seem like Veliona might harm Seele, and then later of conveying just how much Veliona actually loved her.

What do we get of that kind of character-building in this arc? Basically nothing. The characters are so busy talking about the technicalities of Project Stigma that we don't really know how they feel about the whole thing apart from (stock action movie hero voice) "that is so despicable and we will stop you!"

Senti is thankfully an exception, because she doesn't bother engaging with conversation unless it directly affects her. And she's got the right idea!

imo, when it comes to storytelling, the worldbuilding only needs to be as coherent as is necessary for the emotional stakes to make sense. The writers have spent so much time trying to explain the tech to us that they completely forgot about establishing the emotional stakes. Anyone who's stuck around with Honkai this long knows that the worldbuilding doesn't really make sense. Things gets retconned all the time. Anything that doesn't make sense gets blamed on Fenghuang Down. The writers really don't need to spend so much time convincing us that the worldbuilding make sense. We already know, it doesn't, and we loved you anyway. Why did you stop doing what you were good at?

Another thing that takes time away from actually establishing the emotional stakes is the philosophising. Okay, so most of the world is going to die and be reborn as a new entity that isn't really them. But the characters we love are mostly spared from that fate, so why should we care? I know this might make me sound heartless, but I only care about these fictional nameless people because the characters I love care about them. These nameless masses are fictional. I don't care. I can't even tell if the protags even care about these masses outside of an abstract "killing people bad" ideology. I don't know if it's because I haven't cleared the chapter yet (the writing is just that boring; the trio just met Kevin). But after hours of gameplay, the trio have never displayed any emotion outside of mere disapproval. The kind I might have when I go "wow that person has such a shit take on things, but I'll just live and let live". What are they even fighting for?

Granted, I do think the philosophical arguments are interesting and I'm not saying that there shouldn't be any in Honkai at all. But I can only enjoy it to a certain point, and it's not even done well here. We don't get to see any of the protagonists actually engaging with the philosophical argument. From what I can tell, it's just "Project Stigma is the only way some semblance of humanity can live past Finality" "Okay but CE isn't as driven into the corner as PE, can you let us try our things first before you effectively kill all of us?"

That's not a conversation. There's literally no emotional grappling with the fear that maybe, maybe Kevin is right and they will really fail, and that if they miss this chance then all of humanity really will be doomed.

Not to mention that we already covered this philosophical argument with the Kolosten arc. "Do a small group of elite, powerful people have the right to decide the fates of the masses, even when they've arguably already made it a good deal for them?" The answer is no, not when the timeline and form in which they existed would no longer exist, and when they didn't even consent to it. We got it! We had to go through that long arc to reach the moon arc! We got it! Can we move on to the character arcs now?

#honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #rant #moon arc #theres literally!!! no emotional connection in this damned arc at all! #the VAs are doing their best but theyve got nothing to work with! #mimin talks

[inkblot-inc]

RCD: NYFW, FOMO

Summary: Knowing the sour history between Skitch and Natasha, we'll just have to see how they decide to interact with each other going forward, if at all; Fear Of Missing Out AKA Forget Our Missed Opportunities

Pairing: Jeweler!Wanda Maximoff x Metalworker!Reader

[Everything Else From the RCD Universe] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] this is part 4

Warning(s): Oh there's definitely language in this one, I remember. There's also mention of past toxic relationships/friendships, but that's about it

Note(s): Here we are at the last part of The Fashion Week Incident, so let's cap it off baby, LET'S GO!

Word Count: a bit under 1k

ALSO: *squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Again, Wanda and Natasha weren't the bestest of friends before that night. They were friendly acquaintances within the same circle of the fashion industry, so when Skitch tells Wanda about their history with Nat, she's rightfully standoffish toward the fashion designer on the last day of fashion week.

Skitch is kind of just over it and wants to enjoy the rest of fashion week with Wanda and just ignore that Natasha is there. They haven't let Natasha affect their life for so long that they just want to move on with everything.

Natasha, however, since seeing Skitch after all these years is definitely more remorseful and wants to bridge the gap between them and apologize for how she treated Skitch and how they cut ties so abruptly.

The actual runway presentation on the last day goes off without a hitch. After the show, Wanda and Skitch are both mingling again as per usual when Natasha eventually comes up to Skitch and asks to talk to them privately. Skitch brings Wanda along because anything that Natasha has to say can be said in front of Wanda as well seeing as Wanda knows about their past. The three of them do go outside of the venue for privacy, though.

Natasha releases a shaky breath before starting. "I was hoping that we can start fresh, and just put what happened behind us. I know things got ugly, and I'm not proud of how I dealt with things and how much of a bitch I was to you. I wish I reached out to you sooner,"

Wanda could feel her own eye twitch a little bit, "I'm ashamed of the person I was and how I treated you... if I could go back in time-"

That was where you were done just listening, "But you can't go back in time, Natasha- Fuck, NO part of that was an apology! That's what I want, Natasha. An apology. I can't help but think that that is outside of your reach to give me, seeing as I was never just ENOUGH! I was somehow not doing enough as a kid with 'nothing to offer', or I was overbearing enough to let me get arrested for protecting you!" At some point you stopped seeing the older woman dressed in finer fabrics and instead saw the ambitious college sophomore who never wore any outfit without one of your borrowed leather jackets. "Maybe if I'm MAD ENOUGH I'll be worthy of an earnest 'sorry' from you! I just!-...All I wanted was to finally be enough..."

Natasha's eyes continued to water as tears flowed down her cheeks. Her hand helplessly tried to reach out to you, her voice weak and strangled by overflowing emotion. "You were always enough, Y/n. I- fuck... I'm so sorry that I ever treated you like you were beneath me, that you were a nuisance, that I told you that you were 'wasting your time' while with working for Logan. Hell! I'm sorry that I resented you for putting your future on hold for my benefit! I'm sorry for acting like I was better than anyone and taking you and Logan and Annie and Kurt for granted... but you are enough, Y/n. You always have been. And I'm sorry that I made you feel any less than."

Your face is still stoic, but you can't help but let a few tears of your own fall at Natasha's words. "I know that now, but I didn't need you to tell me that anymore." You tightened your grip on yours and Wanda's clasped hands. "I've had the better half a decade to think and make my piece with your shit, Nat... And in time, I think-... I think I could forgive you. But I can't speak on behalf of the others at home you hurt, like Annie and Kurt, and I damn sure can't speak for my dad. You'll have to talk to them yourself to try to make amends... but consider this the olive branch. Don't snap it."

Wanda, who just found out about Skitch and Natasha's past together the night before, however, is a lot more hesitant to be as cordial with Natasha. She was there to hold Skitch while they cried recalling just how fucked their dynamic used to be, how small they felt after they got bailed out of jail. It was rare for Wanda to see Skitch's rays of sunshine so dim, but she could also feel that tiny shred of hope Skitch had in Natasha to show how much she's changed. Not reverting back to the way things were when they were young and the best of friends. But to have a new friendship built on mutual respect.

Wanda had yet to move as she simply stared at Natasha. "What I can't wrap my head around, is that Y/n went to jail for you, and you just let them ride that out?"

Natasha turned to Wanda, briefly wiping her face, "I couldn't even try to understand my own thought process with what happened that night and leading up to it. There was something about not wanting feeling 'smothered' by the affection of the people that cared about me and craving to be in the 'in' crowd. Wanting the space to make my own choices even though I was the most homesick I had ever been at that time. And pride, there was a lot of pride... too much of it where it wasn't justified, seeing as I cut off the people I wanted to be proud of me the most. I've never forgiven myself for how self-centered I was, nor will I try to justify it. I just hope that I'll be given the opportunity to prove myself to be a real friend to Y/n this time."

Wanda couldn't help but hope for the same, for the both of their sakes, but she would be right beside Skitch to make sure they weren't hurt again.

'I'm sure they are proud of you.'

#marvel #marvel ficlet #rough cut diamonds #rcd nyfw incident #jeweler!wanda #skitch #fashiondesigner!natasha #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #black widow #natasha romanoff #metalworker!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #rcd.ficlets #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ink.nat #ib-jc.

[jerzwriter]

A Different Fate... Part 3 - It's been a long time.

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (past) feat. Tobias Carrick

Rating: Teen

Words: 2.2 k

Category: Short-Series/AU/Lost Love

Summary: Kaycee is both excited and anxious as she prepares for dinner, not sure of what it will uncover.

A/N: This was supposed to be a one-and-done, y'all. lol Instead, it's a little AU series of its own. It will be a total of four parts, so one more to go after this. I hope you enjoy it! @choiceschallenge-may2023 | Seeing an old friend/love @choicesflashfics Prompt in bold

Series Masterlist Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist Full Masterlist

There is something special about springtime in New York. Kaycee insists everyone should experience it at least once. She was now living through her eighth and found it every bit as magical as her first. Perhaps that's why her eyes were fixed on the window as she patiently waited, perched anxiously on the edge of her chair. There was so much to keep her mind occupied. Children in fancy prep-school uniforms skipped beside their harried nannies, who scolded them not to run ahead. Tourists, with perpetually lost expressions, had their cameras at the ready, and who could blame them? There wasn't a thing surrounding them that anyone would want to forget. Then there were the young lovers, strolling hand in hand, so enraptured with each other that they never even stopped to marvel at the blooming fields that turned Central Park into a masterpiece that no artist could ever replicate. Yes, New York in the spring delivered pure magic, and she never took that for granted.

She was relieved when she received his text earlier that day. Work was more chaotic than usual. Knowing he was running even later than her brought her a little relief. Just a little. 

I called Gabriel's they're still holding our reservation. When you get there, order a bottle of wine. You always had exquisite taste, so I trust you. And it's on me, don't spare me any expense.  

She watched closely as the well-bedecked waiter poured her glass of Vérité La Muse Merlot, a crafty smile tugging at her lips. He hadn't arrived yet, but she could already hear him….

I said spare no expense, but I didn't think you'd bleed me dry!

She'd tease that their next bottle would be the Château Lafite Rothschild Pauillac Bordeaux, three times the price. But maybe not... knowing him? He'd order it on the spot.  

She mindlessly swirled the garnet liquor in its decadent crystal chalice, enjoying its fragrant aroma before eagerly welcoming the glass to her lips. The tension left her shoulders as the smile on her face grew.

"I take it meets your approval," the waiter beamed.

"More than," Kaycee replied, suddenly grateful he had picked the venue. It seemed like overkill when he mentioned it. After all, she was more of a burger and beer at The Perfect Pint woman herself, but right now… she hadn't a single complaint.

She heard his voice before she saw him, and she downed her remaining wine in a most unladylike manner. Her stomach was in knots, though she couldn't say why, especially after she turned and saw that once-familiar smile light up the room. It was funny how time and distance could melt away with one glance.

"MacClennan!" Tobias gushed. "Get the hell over here and give me a hug!"

"Oh my God, look at you!" She beamed, clenching him in a warm embrace. "I swear you haven't changed a bit!"

"Well, you have!" He insisted, dramatically walking around her for effect. "How is it you get younger with every passing year?"

"You know, those pathetic lines may work on most women, Tobias…."

"But you've never been most women," he laughed.

The two old friends took to their seats and began chatting away like old times. It had been a good six years since they exchanged more than a brief greeting on their birthdays and a card at Christmastime, and though there was much to catch up on, it was as if they didn't miss a beat.

"I hear you were seeing someone!"

"Yes, was… past tense."

"I heard you got married?"

"And divorced… but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!"

"I read your research on genetically engineering cells… it was brilliant!"

"I’d love to say I was surprised with how you’ve made your team world-renowned, but that would be a lie.”

The conversation flowed so freely, so pleasantly... it felt like home, and Kaycee wondered why she was ever apprehensive about the evening. She questioned her choice to keep Tobias at arms-length some six years before. But as the evening moved on and the topics of conversation dwindled, the reason was clear. The eight-thousand-pound elephant in the room that the two had eloquently managed to sidestep was suddenly standing before them, demanding to be seen. It was Kaycee who relented first.

“So, how is Ethan?” She asked softly, a tone so low Tobias may have missed it if he hadn't been waiting for her to ask all night.

“He’s good,” Tobias assured, preparing to recite the canned reply he planned just for this occasion. “He’s doing just….”

But the evening had been too pleasant, his joy at seeing his old friend too genuine to mar the night with a lie.

“He’s Ethan… Kaycee. He’s Ethan.”

Her lip twitched, and she quickly grabbed her wine, a quick reflex that would provide a cover until she could think of more to say.

“I… I was hoping maybe he’d join you. Is he in town as well?”

“No, no… I’m the only one representing the team. He decided to sit this one out.”

“Oh,” she replied sadly. “Well, I’m not surprised. Pediatrics isn’t his field. In fact, I was surprised you were attending.”

“Well, unfortunately, we’re seeing more and more young patients, and we need to expand our knowledge. We hope to add two pediatric specialists to the team by year's end, but it never hurts to learn more.”

“Oh, I might know someone by the name of Dr. Trinh who would make a marvelous addition to the team, not that I’m trying to influence you!”

“Trust me, I’ve already floated her name. We all know she’d be perfect, except….”

He tried to stop that last word, but it came a second too late.

“Except?” Kaycee arched her brow, already knowing the answer she'd receive.

Tobias leaned back with a sigh and ran a hand down his face.

“It’s still hard for him to be around… people or things… that he associates with you. I know it may sound ridiculous, but....”

“No,” Kaycee said, pouring the remaining wine into her glass. “It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all. Of course, some of us had to learn to live with it because… everything reminds me of him….” she trailed. “But that’s unimportant. I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to let the best doctor for the position go or to deny her the opportunity… just because of... me.”

Tobias studied Kaycee carefully, and while she did a better job hiding it than his best friend back in Boston, he could still see that familiar pain in her eyes.

“No. When push comes to shove, he will always do what’s best for the team. But, it won’t be easy.”

For the first time that night, an uncomfortable silence fell between them, and he gave her the time she needed. Her eyes were fixed on the silverware she was fidgeting with, and Tobias was already composing the tongue-lashing he intended to give Ethan in his mind.

“You know… I owe you an apology,” she finally spoke.

“Me?” He marveled. “What for?”

“For blowing you off,” she faltered. “You know, not in the way most women blow you off,” she teased, desperate for any form of levity. “But… seriously… how can I criticize Ethan for doing the very things I’ve done. I limited our friendship to the occasional nicety because… it was just too hard to be around you. It reminded me of a different time, a wonderful time, but… whoever said ‘time heals’ is a liar."

“Kaycee,” whispered. “I’ll never understand how the two of you have allowed so much time to linger... so much pain… when it’s unnecessary.”

“Is it, though?” She asked defensively. “Is it? When I think back to when my residency was ending… Tobias, there was nothing I wouldn’t have given for him. I loved him… I loved him so much… I would have done anything to stay together, but he, he wasn't willing to give anything at all. What choice did I have? And I’ve tried… I’ve tried to move on. I’ve built a phenomenal career, and I have a good life here. I love New York, and I’m happy. But when it comes to love… everyone is still second to him. They’re second to a ghost, so in time we both end up hurt, and it’s not fair. When my last relationship ended, I decided not to even try anymore. It was three years, Tobias… three intoxicating, extraordinary, tumultuous years. We've lived almost three times that amount since I left Boston, and still… I can’t let go. I’ve just accepted that this is how it will always be.”

Tobias tossed his napkin on the table with a sigh. “Ah, Kaycee… You know… you deserve more. You really do.”

“We both do,” she smiled sadly.

“Have you ever tried reaching out to him? At all?”

“I ran into him at a convention or two. We exchanged polite greetings after we failed at doing our best to avoid each other, but nothing more than that.”

“Why don’t you try?”

“Tobias. Did you ask him to come to this conference with you? And don’t lie to me. I can tell when you lie.”

“No, you can’t,” he smirked.

“Try me.”

“Yes. I asked him.”

“And he declined... he declined because he didn’t want to risk seeing me. In a city of eight million people, the risk of running into me was too great… so he declined. Am I right?”

“You are,” he whispered with a sad smile.

“Trust me, Tobias. Any man who goes to those lengths to avoid me doesn’t want my call.”

Tobias reached over and gave her hand a supportive squeeze as they tried to move the conversation along. Despite the melancholy mood the evening had taken on, they were still happy to have spent time together. Tobias walked Kaycee to her door and shared a long hug before bidding her good night.

“I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d love it if we didn’t let another six years slip by before doing this again.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she grinned. “So, you’ll just have to come to New York…”

“… or you can come o Boston….”

"Oh, Tobias," Kaycee said, gently touching his cheek. "You know damn well that Boston only has around 650,000 people... and it's the scene of the crime."

"Then I’ll just have to make a point of coming to New York more often,” he grinned. “It was great seeing you.”

“It was great seeing you, too.”

Without any place to go, Tobias lingered in front of Kaycee’s building, his eyes trailing her until she stepped through the elevator doors. Then he started on the five-block walk to his hotel. He wasn’t one to believe in love… not often anyway… but when it was real... when it was true... he couldn't understand how two people could let it go. He had watched his best friend live half a life for nearly a decade, and now that he knew Kaycee had been doing the same, he was filled with a sadness he didn't quite understand.

The lobby of his hotel was warm and inviting... mahogany walls, soft jazz, small groups of people engaged in convivial conversations and laughter. Given his state of mind, this was definitely more appealing than the solitary room waiting for him. He flopped back into one of the plush settees and ordered a stiff drink. He knew it was just another night for Ethan, but he felt the need to check on his friend. With a few sips of brandy under his belt, he reached into his pocket for his phone.

“Hey, Boss! How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” Ethan replied. “I should be asking you that.... how was the first day of the conference.”

“Good, it was good,” Tobias enthused. “Lots of information, and it left me confident of one thing.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“We need to bring on the pros. Sure, we should broaden our own knowledge, but I say we move ahead and hire some peds for our team. We’re getting too many kids lately, Ethan… and neither of us enjoys it when we fail them. I think it would improve our outcomes.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ethan replied.

“Good! I say we put the search into high swing.”

“I’m a step ahead of you," Ethan countered. "I spent the night speaking with… with Dr. Trinh.”

“Oh,” Tobias’s eyes widened. “Did you? You know I’ve made no secret about it… she’d be the best person for the job.”

“You're right,” Ethan sighed. “And she can be quite persuasive, too.”

“That’s an understatement,” Tobias laughed. “So, did she convince you to let her be our new team member?”

“She did. I told her the job is hers if she wants it… and I think she wants it.”

“Excellent!” Tobias grinned, grateful that something left him feeling a little better. “If I had known she could be this persuasive, I would have utilized her sooner!”

“Yeah,” Ethan laughed. “You have no idea how persuasive she could be.”

“Oh, is there more?”

“There is.”

“OK, stop being so cryptic, buddy. You going to fill me in or what?”

“I could,” Ethan swallowed. “But it's not a conversation to have on the phone. Why don’t you come join me at the bar, and I’ll tell you the rest.”

“That would be great, Ethan… but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m an hour and a half plane ride away.”

“Tobias... turn around.”

Stupified, Tobias stood up and glanced around the room, his phone still at his ear when a goofy grin lit up his face. 

“So, you’re in New York?” He spoke into the mouthpiece. “Is it for the conference?”

Ethan shook his head with a smirk.

"Why don't you hang up and join me.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @differenttyphoonwerewolf @fayeswiftie @gryffindordaughterofathena @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @sophxwithers @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartforeverinmyheart

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart

[mirror-imaged]

idont think anybody understands sheffbrien the way I do (insane) I'm sorry they're literally so bad for each other (affectionate) I could go on and on forever. I will actually. sheffbrien post be upon ye. thanks to ashe for talking about this w me on discord. this is a kinda obrien centric post bc of that loll but I'm obvi getting into sheffields whole deal too

having reread tc22 again and done some literary analysis a few days ago on a plane at 2 in the morning (I'm out of the country rn helloo ^_^) I picked up on a lot of thematics for them I find very interesting. long post ahead!

1 - the dynamics in their relationship are so wildly interesting. I think their characterization in tc22 does wonders for them. firstly, there are a lot of false differences id say? they seem so different, but when you boil it down they have a lot in common. sheffield is affluent and intelligent but has a spiteful and hotheaded side, obrien is seen as angry or rude but is taken for granted with his intelligence quite often by others. he got into an ivy league school at 17. there's also how sheffield seems so charismatic while obrien is abrasive and lonely, but they both really have no other friends when you get down to it? and last example for now, sheffield sees himself as divine while obrien seems to have renounced religion, but he really hasn't done the work of removing his mindset from a catholic(?) framework. expanding on that,

2 - obrien has religious trauma and this is heavily established. he doesn't actually ever move past religion as a concept though, he just moves on from God. he replaces his concept of God with his concept of his sister. more on this later. sheffield also has a relationship with religion, but more in the sense that he inherently sees himself as something unlike humanity, something greater and to be revered. he refers to himself as an angel in a way that doesn't strike me as being ingenuine the way he does in other places. I need to draw art about this it makes me abnormal

3 - for obrien specifically, there are some insanely interesting threads left about his trauma creating a savior complex within him. obviously shown at the start of the story with professor harris, but there are also the times he mentions going into genetics due to his guilt and wanting to entirely eliminate the disease that disabled his sister and when he says he feels an involuntary sympathy for stella when he found out she didn't mean to kill harris. it also makes me wonder if that plays into his protectiveness of sera later on.

4 - obrien has some severe internalized ableism going on that I wish more people actually picked apart. I know tc22 is a small scale story and a lot of people haven't read it, but it's fascinating stuff. he obviously grew up with the mindset that his sister was somehow contagious and describes how he felt he would somehow fall ill because of this, and that sort of mindset does a lot to dehumanize somebody in a person's mind. after eventually passing on an illness to her that results in her death, he is driven entirely by guilt as a character. he becomes certain that if God were fair and true, he would have died instead of her. but, like I mentioned before, he never really renounces religion in any specific way aside from this. he even mentions how he now prays to his sister instead of God, which I think is so fascinating. he never saw his sister as a person, and by elevating her to this status of somebody he needs to grovel to or even just uses as a holy figure in his life, he continues to see her as inhuman. he recognizes his past ableism, but he never does anything to deconstruct and rebuild from it. much like with his relationship with religion!

5 - obrien is treated by dds2 as the morally virtuous character, but he's really not (if you get the context from tc22). my boyfriend put it as him being just on the right side of history, which I absolutely agree with. I know tc22 was probably written after dds2 and doesn't necessarily inform the writing decisions for the games, but it definitely adds juicy layers to me. obrien is seemingly not motivated by any true desire to help sera or the nameless sufferers of CATCH22, he is motivated by the guilt from his sisters death hanging over him like a shadow. not to say he doesn't care at all, but it seems more like a quest to make up for his sins in the eyes of his sister than a desire to do good, which seems awfully catholic to me. this is absolutely the most interesting part of his character presented by the narrative. God I wish they did this better in the games.

6 - moving on to sheffield, sheffield is actually one of the most interesting and real depictions of a character with NPD traits I've ever seen, hands down. I know I talk about this frequently, but it's especially strongly done in tc22 and one of my favorite parts of his character. to start, he's mostly presented with extremely minor and often-masked aspects of the disorder a lot of people don't really pick up on. vouching personally. he quickly becomes passive aggressive and seemingly personally offended when challenged, like by inspector Harvey for instance. he is a practiced and seemingly compulsive liar, able to make things up on the spot that nobody but obrien questions due to his confidence. he seems to get along swimmingly with people he doesn't know well, charismatic and understanding. he pays exceptionally close attention to other people's emotions, expressions, and demeanors to adjust and match theirs. he also is debatably depicted with real delusions of grandeur. he only seems to be able to let his guard down around obrien, actually. and my absolute favorite moment of his, really relatable for me, is that when he stops masking he does not become dangerous. he does not go into a rage, he just goes blank. entirely and visibly unable to express emotion "normally", and obrien is initially scared, but realizes he just doesn't understand sheffield as well as he thinks he does. this is incredibly accurate to real life for me. it's actually insanely well depicted. and what I really appreciate is that sheffield is never presented as truly malicious [IN THIS STORY]. with dds2 context, he can be seen that way for sure, but he isn't actually shown being morally reprehensible. he's dubious and seems to have trouble understanding where he crosses a line, but that's also very true to real life for me. he isn't necessarily trying to be evil, he's just nosy and invasive of boundaries on occasion. they also never actually label him as or call him a narcissist, which is so good?? props to tadashi for once?? I think he is one because I have the disorder and can more accurately assess this sort of thing, but labeling every character who's like Abusive as a narcissist is so tacky and distasteful to me. it diminishes the harm they inflict on other people as being something born of mental illness, which isn't necessarily true. he is definitely abusive to sera, but that is not related to his narcissism.

7 - sheffield is just such a good character in this. I raved already about his npd stuff but I want to get into other things a little too. firstly, he does seem to genuinely view himself as inhuman, which is something I also believe contrasts obrien a little. obrien has this deep internalized self hatred, while sheffield has this genuine belief he is on a different level from other people. despite this, he sees obrien as being his Equal in some way. as being worthy of his presence, his assistance, his friendship. the pizza scene really really drives this home for me. (that's another subtle npd ass trait but I've said enough). in addition, sheffield tries so desperately to present himself as worthy of something more, maybe backed by doubt, or maybe even just true belief. he tries to appear intimidating, has knowledge of how to get into people's heads, etc. maybe this is because he's young and people see him differently for being so ahead of his grade, but I also see it as a display of insecurity in an implicit way. his delusions of grandeur also play into this characterization, because delusions of grandeur are often born from extreme and severe self doubt (at least in those with mental health disorders, which I've already mentioned I believe he strongly aligns with). him coming from a wealthy background in Portland of all places would not help any of that kind of thing.

8 - i don't even know what else I could say about them. they make me so abnormal. not even a toxic romantic relationship between them (which I do like think about but obviously post tc22 I don't like their age gap) but simply their dynamic as two characters. sera is a figurehead for their conflict, really. all the things we learn about both of these characters really makes me question how much BOTH of them care for sera, not just sheffield's two-faced lies. she is representative of their ideological dispute. she is a small child who has the potential to save the world, but obrien is too scared of letting another child die as a result of his inaction and sheffield is too focused on his end goal of getting what he believes he deserves, divinity and becoming a revered savior of the world, no matter who falls along the way. they are built to contrast each other. you even see this through heat and serph to a degree, with how sera mixed them up. heat declares he is on the same level as God during the jp text of the vritra fight, while serph inevitably sacrifices his own life for the sake of sera.

9 - what happened between tc22 and the dds2 flashbacks? I actually need to know what caused their relationship to split so heavily. I'm fucking obsessed with them. post over please join my sheffbrien Island there's like 2 other people here

#digital devil saga #shin megami tensei #digital devil saga 2 #ddsat #sheffbrien #analysis #thats catch 22 #ok sorry i actually really worked hard on this post i hope you guys like and or read it. thx #i think about them so much

[effervescentdragon]

Mean prompt: Max/Daniel & you shouldn’t have come back

@sebsrainbowbicycle 🙃💖

It's good, being back in the paddock. Granted, Daniel isn't doing that much driving this time, but it's still good to be here, feel the pulse of the crowd. It feels good when they chant his name, too. The smile he wears isn't even the fake one, so it's all good.

Christian accosts him just as he's done with filming another interview with Sky. Daniel is in a great mood, despite the fact that Nico is a cunt, he always was, and now that he's back to commenting, Daniel isn't sure if he' glad about it or not. Nico knows how to ask the most inappropriate questions and play it off as if he didn't mean anything bad, as if he was just joking, and everyone lets it slide because it's Nico. Everyone knows he's weird, just like everyone knows Daniel is a ball of sunshine, and happy to be back in F1. "No matter the limited capacity," Nico had said and smiled for the cameras, and Daniel had smiled ever wider.

"We need you in the briefing," Christian says, dragging him by the shoulder. "Max needs you to clarify something about the downforce." He lowers his voice since they're passing by the McLaren mechanics.

"And whatever Maximus needs, Maximus gets," he says with a smile. Christian doesn't react, except to squeeze his shoulder. It feels like a warning.

The briefing is full, and Daniel sees some people he would like to say hello to, but Christian doesn't let him chat, or even stop. He drags him over to where Max is buried in data. He looks in deep concentration, a small frown on his face. When Christian taps him on the shoulder, the frown deepens, but he takes off his headphones and nods. Christian nods back, and leaves with a final pat to Danny's shoulder.

"Daniel, good. I need to know, wait, where's the data," he says, shuffling through the printed data sheets in front of him. "I need to know how you got the three tenths here in the curve, I can't make sense of it."

Daniel sits down in the chair next to him. "Hello, Maxy. How are you? I'm well, thank you for asking."

Max doesn't roll his eyes. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge the joking reprimand. He searches through the paper, and Daniel knows how to read the strain in his neck, and the little pout-frown in the corner of his lips. He shouldn't push when Max is like this, but what was it that he'd said to Nico not half an hour ago? 'Full send, as always'? He thinks of how Max's lips used to taste underneath his, and how much he's bulked up in the past couple of years, and how good it would be to be pressed into the bed by Max this time, for a change.

He leans forward in the chair. "Come on, Max. Lighten up, it's not like you haven't driven here before." He drums his fingers on the table. "You should relax, enjoy the sun a little instead of being coped up in here. Take a break, and we can go get coffee right now, now that I'm back, you don't need to -"

"Well maybe you shouldn't have come back, if you will act like this," Max interrupts him, snaps at him really. "Maybe you shouldn't have come back, if you will not take this seriously." He doesn't sound angry when he speaks, that's the thing. He just sounds sure. "I am here to work, and to win, Daniel."

The unsaid implications don't escape Daniel's notice. He feels a lump in his throat, and he wants to reply. He wants to tell Max that he's here to win too, that he won too, that Max isn't the only one who has ever won.

Except, there's only one World Champion in the room, and it's not Daniel.

"Yeah, Max, I, yeah, okay," he fumbles, not looking away from Max's calm gaze. "I - show me the data. I'll tell you what I did in the ca - in the simulator."

His own voice grates on his nerves. Max doesn't reply, only nods, like that was exactly what he expected, and pulls out a sheet with numbers on it.

Daniel leans over to look at it, and doesn't thibk about how attractive Max was just then, or how fast his heart is beating, or how hopeless his daydreams are, or how some things won't ever happen again.

"Okay, so..."

#effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #maxiel #f1 rpf #mean prompt thing #i like being mean to danny

[wuxianxkexing]

GIVE ME 5 REASONS I NEED TO WATCH/READ MDZS

I can only speak on the live action version The Untamed. I haven't been able to find anywhere to watch the donghua for free and while I have the books I haven't gotten around to reading them yet. 😅 I'm currently stuck in the Heaven Official's Blessing rabbit hole. Don't send help, I'll probably get out eventually.

1. If you have any siblings you will probably really relate to either the Yunmeng siblings story or the Twin Jades sibling story. The dynamics between them are all very realistic and you even get representation for those who have been adopted into a family (which is pretty rare in media, but as someone who was also adopted I know that the dynamics are more complex than "Yay! Family! Happily ever after!" or the typical horror story tropes of adopted children.)

2. The story has various different villains. Some of them have a good point, but not all of them. A lot of the media I consume tries to always give the villains a "good" or "understandable" reason for being like that, so it's nice to have a story where I can take a villain, spin them around in my head, and be like "Nope, no matter how I look at it I just don't get it. A lot of villains get called "crazy" but you? You actually take the cake."

3. I love the fact that side characters are actually important in this story. Granted I have had a life long love of random side characters that I think are cooler than the main character but some people have been annoyed by how unexpectedly important the side characters are. They forget that this is a story about /society/. Wei Wuxian's story is nothing without them. Or at the very least it would be a very different story without them. They can't be removed or replaced without changing the entire narrative and that is good writing. No one is just there without a reason.

4. This is also a story about the very real human experience of change. I have heard that The Untamed does a better portrayal of this than the book (in regards to Wei Wuxian) but things change, for better and for worse. It's bitter and remorseful but it doesn't matter because life will go on regardless. Even if you try to hold onto the past with a death grip things around you will change and you yourself will change even if you try to resist it. I personally haven't seen any other media, aside from the Legend of Korra, that actually tackles this subject well. Most other media seems to resist change, or will only accept the "good" changes. That ain't life. You don't get to pick and choose.

5. Along with studying society as a whole it also does a good job of studying individual characters. Because you know what? It's easy to just make society "like that", but to examine the characters that actually make up that society and see in which ways they contribute to that society, for better or for worse, through mere thought or actual actions, is really interesting! And it's not even just the big things, the little things can and do end up changing the entire course of the story.

As for watching The Untamed my only "tip" is that the first couple of episodes are set in the present and then the story goes into a long flashback. However it never tells us that this is a flashback so if you watch it completely blind like I did you'll be pretty confused until you figure it out. I'm a kind of go with the flow person so I was just like "I guess this is just the story now" but other people might get frustrated and drop it because they don't know what is going on. So that's my heads up. I guess they chose to start the story like that because the book starts like that as well and it does have some artistic merit in making the viewer feel pretty much as confused as Wei Wuxian but when it comes to making television for a wider audience they probably either shouldn't have done that or at least put something on the screen telling viewers about the flashback. But maybe I just know too many people who don't have the patience to watch a story long enough to figure things out for themselves. 😅 If you do decide to watch it I just don't want you to drop it because of that confusion.

As for my "silly" reasons to watch The Untamed.

1. Wei Wuxian is pretty.

2. Jiang Cheng is scary and sexy.

3. The music is beautiful. I loved it so much that I actually bought a working replica of Wei Wuxian's flute so I could learn to play the music, I just haven't gotten around to actually playing it. 😂☠️

4. Jin Guangyao's dimples.

5. Zidian is so pretty. Like if I ever have enough money to spend on a piece of jewelry like that I would 100% get an exact replica from the show made in my size.

#the untamed #mdzs

[riddleredcoats]

tell me about celene and mythal. TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!

tell me about celene and mythal. please.

please.

I- well, I assume this is about that fantastic Morrigan post that @ammoniteflesh did that I butted in with my ceaseless love about Orlais? I can do that. Settle in, it's a long boi.

Spoilers for The Masked Empire, if you haven't read it (and you should) then this probably won't make much sense. And spoilers for pretty much everything else in DA, tbh.

More under the cut.

The Andraste parallels.

Basically, just copy-paste everything that links Mythal and Andraste in this section. This is a great post/example, though I don't think they are the same, rather just the same story repeating. But TLDR: Betrayal, Heartache, Justice, etc etc etc. I think this is a popular theory I am not going to go much deeper into it.

Celene is compared to Andraste multiple times throughout The Masked Empire. In the play (End-ish of Chapter 5), by Briala (early-ish Chapter 5), and the whole Empress of Fire (both song and the Burning of Halamshiral) debacle. Not only that, but Celene has some genuine thoughts, intentions, and actions about reforming Orlais that are close to what Andraste was doing; they are both trying to reform an imperialist power, granted in different ways (of course) but the parallels aren't meant to be exact.

Fun add-on: Hilarious that Celene basically destroys herself/her image by (in the Fandom, at least, while in Universe is intact for the most part) setting a fire. Because being set on fire was what finally elevated Andraste. It’s still a point for the parallel, just a contrasting parallel rather than a direct one.

Fun add-on, #2: Andraste is described as being a redhead, even in DAI by Cass I think, but is depicted as a white blonde (like Celene in The Masked Empire’s cover or Flemythal's white hair) in multiple paintings throughout Dragon Age. I don’t know what this means, but it’s a fun detail, nonetheless. 

Justice! (But not really)

Both Celene and Mythal are arbiters of Justice, technically.

Celene as empress doles out justice as she wishes (more or less, see Halamshiral), but more specifically she wants to create a more just society for all Orlesians. Yes, of course, there is still that delightful imperialism there, but it just do be like that sometimes. Mythal is described several times as someone who doles out justice, throughout the games by Codex and Solas. She passes judgement, solves conflicts and was ‘the good one’.

Like the story of Elgar’nan and Falon’Din, where she solved it by each having champions and stopping the start of a devastating war. Sorta like Celene solved the Gaspard/Teagan conflict at the beginning of The Masked Empire (end of Chapter 1).

They can both be fair and reasonable but are also known for taking more harsh paths (i.e.; the slums of Halamshiral and the sinner who took divine form and went to Elgar’nan). They both promised to help the elves, yet they both seem to have ditched that idea; Mythal has done arguably very little for centuries, and Celene, while helping, without Briala is less than radical about it.

The Vengeance thing is here too. Celene is, after all, no saint and actively cannot forgive Gaspard for anything he does. Ever. And is definitely on a ‘war path’ by the end of TME. Mythal, similarly seems to be on a warpath forever for ‘a reckoning that will shake the very heavens’, whatever the hell that means. Also, everything Flemythal says in Origins just screams bitterness and vengeance.

Betrayal

Both of these women have been betrayed by those closest to them.

Celene by her court, her champion (The Masked Empire), her nobles (The Masked Empire and Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts), and both of her cousins (Gaspard and Florianne). Also, arguably, Mantillon betrayed her by ‘manipulating’ her into killing her own servants, but that is a whole 'nother bag to untangle. Oh, and Briala of course, by using Celene’s feelings for her and stealing the ruby during a kiss at the end of The Masked Empire.

FleMythal by her daughter (Morrigan), her husband (Elgar’nan, though if you want to include Flemeth’s here it is also applicable, I guess), her sons (if that’s what Dirthamen and Falon’Din really were?), her fellow ‘Gods’. Oh, and Fen’Harel at the end of DAI, too.

Funny is that both Celene and Mythal when it comes to Briala and Solas’ betrayals are fine with it. Celene completely understands Briala by the end of The Masked Empire, as does Mythal at the end of DAI. And they are both betrayed by Solas and Briala in front of Eluvians Which… yeah.

Another parallel; both Briala and Solas say they must do it for ‘The People’, aka, the elves.

The Rebels

Solas and Briala parallel a lot on their own, but their relationships with Mythal and Celene are fascinating too, as is seeing how Solas/Briala view Mythal/Celene.

Obviously, both of these pairs parallel Shartan/Andraste. Actual mention of this is in the play in The Masked Empire for Celene/Briala (Chapter 5 of TME).

Each pair is obviously fond of one another, likely in different ways - but perhaps not.

Interestingly enough if Solas really was in service to Mythal first (like Cole seems to imply in Trespasser) before he rose to ‘Godhood’ then, like Celene/Briala, the relationship likely started privately and then grew into the public like once Briala became Marquise and Solas became Fen’Harel.

If we take what Cole said, ‘He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face’, as it really being about Solas/Mythal then we have another interesting parallel between Briala/Solas and Celene/Mythal.

Celene, arguably, makes Briala into what she is by sending her away after having her parents killed. Felassan helped and, of course, Briala herself is the way she is because she is herself, but Celene is the catalyst for her more abrupt change. Briala does not get a scar when she separates herself from Celene; at least not a physical one. Mythal makes Solas into what he is by asking him to come to her.

Interestingly, it is a contrasting parallel – because Celene lets Briala go while Mythal beacons Solas into her service. Which is super interesting, but that is more about the relationship between Briala/Celene than anything else.

The way both Solas/Briala describe Mythal/Celene in-game;

Briala, if you ask about Celene during the peace, but before you go to the servants' quarters, says: ‘Celene is the voice of reason in the empire…’

Solas, in that final Trespasser cutscene: ‘She [Mythal] was a voice of reason, the best of them, and in their lust for power they killed her.”

Granted, Solas is fonder while Briala is a bit harsher in her assessment, but Solas did ‘kill’ Mythal, and whatever wounds Mythal may have caused (which we will get there) have long passed while Celene and Briala’s breakup is more recent. This means very little but i suspect that much like Celene, Mythal also betrayed Solas twice. Once in the times of Arlathan - like Celene killing Briala's parents. And another in recent times - with the burning of Halamshiral. We don't know about it yet, but that's my bet.

Morrigan

Both Mythal (or Flemythal) and Celene have a protective relationship with Morrigan.

Celene is more of a patron and offers financial support and protection. And the protection seems to be mutual (or supposed to be, if Morrigan didn’t bail in WEWH, lmao). Mythal/Flemythal is well, her mother, who is supposed to protect her but who is trying to possess her.

Both of these relationships seem to range from a little contentious (Celene/Morrigan, if you believe the rumours of a palace servant) to very contentious (Flemythal/Morrigan).

Celene seems to not be as intense as Mythal. Morrigan speaks well of her, and Celene does not try to control her like Mythal did, Celene even ‘lets’ her go out into the world – something baby!Morrigan wanted – with her blessing and her protection. I legit find the relationship between them interesting, despite the arguments that apparently took place, lmao. (I also sorta lowkey ship it, but that’s another conversation).

To give the benefit of the doubt; we don’t know how much Mythal was ‘in charge’ of Flemeth (or if they can even act separately) so Morrigan’s abuse might not be Mythal’s fault. But there is no denying that she was abused and that whatever aspect of Mythal, The Mother there was, it absolutely did not act in Morrigan’s favour.

But that is yet another that has nothing to do with Celene/Mythal and all to do with Morrigan.

Symbols matter (or not)

Mythal fought with the Evanuris and the Valmonts fought the Drakons. A bit more *tinfoil* and a lot more thin, but if the Dragon is the divine form like we suspect from Codex Entry in the Temple of Mythal, then the Valmonts having gone to war with the Drakon line could be another interesting parallel. After all, the Drakons are represented by dragons. There is also, technically, the 'full' title of the quest where Celene appears in:

The Old Gods will call to you, From their Ancient Prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night. - Canticle of Silence 3:6

Finally, and this is really silly and not really a parallel and most likely it’s just a fun coincidence, but the name Celene, which comes from the root word ‘Selene’, means ‘Moon’, which, of course, Mythal is the Goddess of.

Unimportant sidenote: I am pettily annoyed that most characters pronounce it ce-LI-ne when it should be ce-LE-ne. Because Celine is a legit different name and Celine-Celene have different meanings and root words, but okay I’ll allow it because I do like the pronunciation ‘Celine’ better, lmao.

#celene valmont #mythal #flemythal #dragon age ... meta? #the masked empire #dragon age #several other characters here but yeah #solas briala morrigan etc etc etc #I am not entirely sure this makes sense #hopefully it does #this is unedited and mostly made from memory pretty sure i am forgetting some things #as an aside this is one of my favourite aspects of the series the way that cycles keep repeating and you can help break them #i know people don't like putting Celene and Briala back together but it does make me happy to do it #because i am breaking a cycle that has been going on for thousands of years #Mythal/Solas Andraste/Shartan Celene/Briala #should WEWH have been done in a better way? aye #but it isn't the worst option #..... it's the Truce imo if you're curious. I can't believe i am saying this but even Gaspard is fucking better than the truce.

[bettsfic]

Congratulations on finishing your novel!! Is there anything you can tell us about it at this point, or is it too early for that to be shared? No worries if that's the case. I hope we all get the chance to read it one day :)

i haven't talked about it a lot so i don't have a solid pitch or anything, but the main character is henry, an autistic underwriter with a deeply fucked up past. and he's in love with his coworker layla but trying very hard not to be.

he's also a recovering sex addict who uses bdsm for self-harm, and he has a daddy dom named thrash whose main kink is giving him everything he wants.

layla seems very sweet and normal, but she's even more obsessed with henry than he is with her. i wanted to make a character who believes they're a sociopath but who is actually not at all a sociopath.

but her older sister lacey is definitely a sociopath.

when layla finds out the horrific things that happened to henry in childhood, she plots to murder henry's father.

and she teams up with thrash to get it done.

henry's POV: hopeful coming of age story about a 30 year old whose growth was stymied by trauma but who comes to realize his life's purpose is art. layla's POV: true crime novel.

excerpt under the cut!

thrash's intro, cw for suicidal ideation, drug use, and questionable bdsm practices.

On his porch there are prayer flags and paper lanterns. Adirondack chairs flanking a glass table with a bronze ashtray, so clean it looks as though it has never been used. Mariachi music floods out from behind the door. I can walk away. I should walk away.

I knock. The music volume lowers and a moment later, he is opening the door, wearing a pair of board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt covered in Birds of Paradise, even though there is snow on the ground. 

He grins and opens his arms wide and welcoming. “King!” 

He gives the best hugs. Too long, too tight, but it’s a single moment during which you cannot fall apart, because Thrash is holding you together.

He pulls away, holds me by the shoulders, looks me up and down. “How long has it been? A year?”

“Nine months.”

He knocks my chin lightly with a knuckle. “Really, man. I’m glad to see you. I missed you.” 

I follow him inside. The house is enormous, intended to be one of those rich-people hideous stock houses, identical to all those around it and everything in shades of beige, but he has made it his own, art hung all over in a never-ending rotation as he buys new pieces. Ugliest shit anyone’s ever seen. Once, high, I told him he had bad taste. He laughed and said, “You don’t know fuck about art, man. Good art to you is probably the shit you’d hang in a dentist’s office.”

Maybe if he hadn’t said that, the tattoos wouldn’t be a thing. Maybe I only wanted to be beautiful for him. Something worth hanging.

The pieces have all rotated out since I’ve been here last, aside from the six-by-six abstract piece across from the front door, the first sight when you walk in. He’s always happy to talk about every piece he owns—where he got it and for how much, what he knows about the artist—but he never talks about that one. 

Over the past eight years I’ve known Thrash, I’ve spent a long time looking at it, no title or signature, an enormous canvas flecked with pastel oil paint, all thirty-six square feet of it, so covered you couldn’t see the canvas beneath. Pale pink, robin’s egg blue, butter yellow, mint green—colors that remind us of infants, of safety and smallness. Yet it's enormous, overwhelming, bigger than me.

Thrash is a generous man. He buys lavish gifts, throws insane parties, donates probably over six figures a year to arts organizations and scholarships. He once mentioned a wing of a university library dedicated to him. He never charges me for drugs. When I ask him for things, he says, “Your wish is my command.”

There is an allure, I think, in having the power to grant anyone their wildest, darkest wish.

He is cooking something and the house smells very good. I have not eaten since the Bavarian sandwich with spicy mustard and no cheese, sweet potato fries, and brownie sundae with no whipped cream (Layla ate two bites and I demolished the rest). I have also not had anything to drink since Layla shoved a Glacier Cherry Gatorade in my hand and told me to chug. 

In the kitchen, he stirs a huge pot of something on the stove and says, “I hope you’re hungry. I don’t want to have to freeze these leftovers.” He opens the fridge. “What’re you drinking? IPA? Lager? Wait, right, you’re a pilsner guy.”

He pulls out a bottle of pilsner and pops it open with the churchkey welded to his counter top. When he hands it over, he asks, “You feeling okay?” 

“Rough day.”

He slaps my shoulder. “Let me take all your troubles away, huh?”

*

I eat arroz con pollo on Thrash’s couch. He tells me about his trip to Mexico. When his bowl is empty, he sets it aside and takes two bumps of coke off the back of his hand, one for each nostril. I prefer him a little coked up. He is too nice to me when he’s not.

Thrash is fifty-three. His hair is still dark brown which makes me think he gets it dyed. Usually he has only a mustache but to fit with what seems to be his whole post-vacation vibe, his chin is covered in stubble. He is very tan.

I am attracted to him not just because he’s good at what he does, but because he’s totally free. Untethered from anything or anyone.

“Alright,” he says, lounging back on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table. “What are you looking for tonight?”

“The usual.”

“You haven’t been here in nine months. There’s no more usual.” 

“I want to go back to what we did in the beginning.”

His shapely eyebrows rise up his forehead. “Getting into dangerous territory, baby boy.”

When he calls me “baby boy,” I know I have said something he likes.

He reaches over and takes me by the chin, forces me to look at him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I mean I do but I don’t, you feel me?”

“You barely knew me back then.”

“I know, babe. But I’m older, I’m wiser, and I don’t have a liability form.”

“I trust you.”

Something flickers across his face, and for a moment he is not Thrash, but whoever he is on the outside, the actor of our ongoing scene. Then it fades and he grins, once more my personal Dionysus.

*

In the basement, I undress. I fold my clothes neatly and place them on the lid of a vinyl record player. Thrash is taking off his ridiculous shirt. He is really very tan.

“You been working out, man?” he asks. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” I say, wishing he would gag me already. Small talk is hard enough in real life; I don’t want to have to attempt it in a sex dungeon. I climb onto my favorite spanking bench, the one that is not too comfortable that I start to feel good, but not so uncomfortable it distracts me. I am irritated that Thrash has made me choose between being gagged or restrained—one, I can safeword but not move; the other, I can tap out but not speak. I fear he is conforming to the tyrannical writ of Safe, Sane, and Consensual, over my much-preferred Risk-Aware Consensual Kink.

I have opted for gagging. 

“How about this one?” he asks, grinning stupidly and holding up a leather paddle that says SLUT on it, backwards.

“No.”

“Yeesh. Such a traditionalist.” He paws through the drawer. “Come on, babe, help me narrow it down.”

I make a frustrated sound through my teeth. Around Thrash, I do not have to worry about my rotely memorized conversational schemas or the intricate performance of social mores. Under the mask, I am irritable, cruel, inconsiderate. I insult thoughtlessly. I express plainly my disinterest. My honesty is brutal. I am a mean person.

“Flogger it is, then. Old reliable.” Thrash points the handle of the flogger at me. “You’re lucky I accommodate your aversion to decision-making. You find a worse guy than me, you’ll be in real trouble.”

“Is there anyone worse than you?”

He whistles through his teeth and says, “So bratty today. But I love it when you flirt with me.” 

He circles the bench, assessing whatever it is he assesses. His hand is on my lower back. “You’re feeling some kind of way right now, huh?”

I close my eyes. The leather warms beneath my cheek. “You could say that.”

“I’ll be real hard on you, okay? Get you out of your head for a while.”

“Thank you.”

His hand is soft, the hand of a man who has never had to do manual labor besides hurting people for fun. He slides it up to my shoulder. I wish he would scratch it, but if he starts, I won’t want him to stop. “You get new ink? This looks fresh.”

“Yesterday. Don’t tell me what it is.”

“You don’t know what it is?”

“I never know. I just let the artist do her thing.”

“You’re saying—hold on. You’re telling me you didn’t choose a single one of these eight hundred tattoos you got?”

“Right.”

“You know I love you, baby boy, but you’re a real freak.” He takes the ball gag and says, “Alright, open up.”

*

When I first met Thrash, he didn’t know the meaning of aftercare. He did his thing, fucked me, and said, “See you next time.” Now it is non-negotiable. I get the full treatment: massage, praise, a glass of water and a snack. Nowadays I think Thrash likes aftercare more than the scene itself. It sickens me. He didn’t go as hard on me as I had hoped, didn’t fuck me or get me off, and as he guides me upstairs, heavy hand on the back of my neck, I can’t help but sense his concern at conflict with his distance. I hate when people step carefully around me. 

I am drunk on pain. I am swimming through an abyss. I am an animal, a body wandering.

He puts together a bunch of leftovers in an environmentally friendly Whole Foods tote bag. He has included coupons to a Mexican restaurant he insists is authentic, and a twenty-five dollar gas card he just had lying around. He is talking the whole time, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

The blunt force cold upon stepping outside snaps me out of it. Thrash has followed me out in only his gaudy shirt and board shorts. He folds into a chair. Tugs a pack of Marlboro Golds out of his shirt pocket. Slips one out, lights it. 

I stop on the top step of his porch and turn back to him. The paper lanterns are lit up, along with white fairy lights around the trim. 

“If I asked you to, would you kill me?”

He leans back and exhales a cloud of both smoke and condensation. I am grateful he has neither laughed at me nor dismissed it as outlandish. Now that I think about it, he has never laughed at me.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Why you want to die.”

“Because I’m too hard to love.”

He gives me a long look while he takes a long drag. “Be hard to love, baby,” he says, tapping ash into the immaculate tray. “Make them fight for it.”

#skinless

[happy-emmdings]

Pirate-Son Bonding

on AO3

Category: one shot, fluff, Captain Cobra

Summary: While Emma enjoys a girl's night out, Killian and Henry have a boy's night of their own. Homework, movies and 'sword'fights included. Henry comes to an important realisation.

Word count: 1 695

Henry glanced into the living room where Killian was sitting, buried in a book ever since Emma left for her girl's night out with Mary Margaret, Mulan and Ruby and Dorothy, who were visiting from Oz.

Henry started working on his homework when Emma left and Hook gave him his space, but still remained in his proximity on the other end of the open space of their ground floor. Somehow it felt nice to have company even though they were each doing their own thing. But when Henry started to lose his focus as the homework dragged on, his gaze started darting distractedly around the room and he noticed that every once in a while, Killian lifted his eyes from the pages he was reading to glance in his direction as if he was waiting for him to finish.

Henry took one of his earbuds out and tapped his pencil on the table. He smiled to himself and cleared his throat.

"Um, Hook?"

"Aye, Henry?" came his rather prompt response.

"I'm almost done with the homework. I was wondering if you could help me with it, maybe?"

Hook was already out of his armchair and ready to stride over to him, doing a poor job at hiding his excitement at being asked to help. At being asked to help him specifically, Henry realized with a sudden warm feeling.

"So," the pirate said, sitting down beside him at the kitchen table, "what sort of task do we have to resolve?"

"It's Geography," Henry said, pointing to the atlas. Hook's eyes lit up at the sight of it until he realized he was unfamiliar with most of the map, since he was not native to this world.

"Well, I suppose it's past time I learn more about this world's land and seas. What exactly do we have to do?"

"I have to fill in answers to these questions," Henry said, showing him the work sheet. "And memorize them for the test."

Killian examined the sheet with a concentrated look.

"Oh, we have to visit these places one day," he said quietly with a hint of old wanderlust.

"You wanna sail to the Caribbean?" Henry joked, doubtful that he would fully get the reference.

Killian searched the map with his eyes, until they landed on the mentioned sea.

"Sure. What's in the Caribbean?"

"I can't believe you haven't watched those movies yet. We have to fix that."

"If it's anything like that cursed drawing version of Peter Pan..."

"No," Henry laughed. "It’s life action. It's about pirates, has awesome music, great actors, iconic humor. You'll love it."

"If you say so," Killian shrugged. "But let’s get this done first, aye?"

"Ok. So... what is the highest peak of South America... that's this continent, by the way."

"Yeah, south of North America, I figured out that much, thank you," Hook responded defensively, a little offended.

"Right, sorry."

"I don't understand your technology, maps I get," he reminded him.

"Sorry," Henry smiled.

"Acon... Aconcagua? I think that's the one," Hook said pointing a finger to the tiny mountain symbol.

"Yeah, that's it," Henry nodded, trying to save its exact position in his memory. "Great. Now..."

Through their joint effort they finished the homework rather quickly. Finding specific places on the map turned out to be really fun when they turned it into a competition of who would find them quicker. Granted, Henry had an unfair advantage for already being familiar with most of it but Killian had a royal navy education and a long lifetime of experience up his own sleeve. Even when they were done with the assignment, Killian kept examining the map and they started talking about all the places they could visit in the summer. Henry realized that although he's been to Neverland, an alternate reality of the Enchanted Forest, Camelot and the Underworld, he has never been further than to New York when it came to his own world. The prospect of sailing to the Caribbean started to sound really appealing.

"We so have to watch the Pirates of the Caribbean!" Henry insisted. "You know what, I'll go find out which streaming service has it."

Killian, who was glad he knew what a streaming service was by now, just smiled and shrugged. "Alright then."

Henry collected his atlas and notes and rushed to the stairs before turning around. "Um, can you make some popcorn? It's not a proper movie night without snacks, you know."

"That's a rule in this household, I noticed."

"Yes. An important rule," Henry smirked.

"I'm on it," Hook nodded.

Henry ran up the stairs to get his mom's laptop, the password to which he has been granted access to. He was able to quickly find the first movie and signed up for a free trial he was sure to forget to cancel. When he descended the stairs to check on Hook, he found him chasing a grapefruit across the kitchen counter as it slipped from under his hook when he attempted to cut it.

"Um... Didn't I say popcorn?" he titled his head to a side.

"It's right there," Killian pointed to a steaming bowl of freshly microwaved popcorn. Next to it was another bowl full of curiously cut pieces of fruit.

"But I figured we could have some real food with it."

"Popcorn is real food," Henry protested. "It's made of corn. Corn is a vegetable. Conclusion: popcorn is a vegetable."

"I suppose you have a point," Killian laughed. "Popcorn gets a pass."

"But not pop tarts?" Henry crossed his arms.

"That awful prison food?" Killian frowned, completely serious.

"Why on Earth did I leave you in charge of snacks?" Henry wondered.

"Hey!"

"Anyway," he rolled his eyes and grabbed the bowl of the fragrant cheesy snack, "movie's ready."

Killian grabbed his unevenly chopped up fruit bowl and followed him.

"You know I'm not gonna get scurvy, right? It's not a common illness in this place and age," Henry nudged him with an elbow when they settled on the couch, the laptop positioned in front of them with the movie ready to play.

"I know, lad... I just, I've seen it. It's ugly," the pirate captain admitted solemnly.

Henry examined his face for a moment, while Hook just looked down with an apologetic smile. Henry couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen someone from his own crew succumb to the illness on the merciless seas. As annoying as it was, Hook's concern for his healthy diet came from a place of care. Didn't make it less annoying, though.

He cleared his throat and pressed play. "Okay. Movie time."

Killian was finally introduced to the character of Captain Jack Sparrow and as Henry expected, he found him quite likeable and amusing, even though he noted that if he had met him in real life, they might have ended up dueling each other. Now that was something Henry would pay to see.

When the movie was finished, they let the credits roll as Killian started recounting some of his own adventures from his early pirate days, long before he even set out on his quest for revenge on the Dark One.

At one point the story resulted in a duel against a captain of the royal navy, naturally. Killian was eager to show him exactly how it went down and decided a demonstration was necessary. He picked up some fireplace tools and got Henry to play the other guy.

"And then what?" Henry asked when his 'sword' was pointed at Hook's chest.

"Well, that's the twist. Then a giant kraken's tentacle rose up from the sea and snatched the unfortunate man right in front of me," he revealed.

"No way!" Henry shook his head incredulously.

"It's true! You should have seen the way the color drained from everyone's faces. The navy men started fleeing back to their ship, swinging over on ropes like frightened monkeys. We knew we had to run like hell. This creature could crush us into splinters. Luckily, the Jolly Roger is the fastest beauty on the seas."

"Oh, so you ran?"

"Excuse me, lad. I'd like to see you take your stand against a kraken! A captain knows when not to risk his crew's lives in vain. If I wanted to fight the infernal creature I could."

Henry laughed, lifting his free hand in surrender. A mischievous spark flashed in Hook's eyes and he struck out with his 'sword' at Henry in a way that allowed him to easily parry. The next blow was a bit more challenging, but Henry wasn't going to hold back either.

***

Emma didn't exactly have an expectation of what she would come home to at half past one in the morning, but her son battling Captain Hook in a ferocious duel with fireplace tools, jumping over the couch and nearly knocking everything over... was a surprise.

"I see you two are having a boy’s night of your own?" she chuckled, leaning against the door frame, crossing her arms.

When she spoke both of their heads turned to her with startled expressions that soon lit up.

"Mom!"

"You seem quite relaxed yourself, love," Killian smiled.

Henry sensed an opportunity and attempted to disarm his distracted opponent. But Hook never truly dropped his concentration and wasn't as overwhelmed as Henry needed him to be. With a skillful move and a grace of two hundred years of practice, Henry's weapon clattered to the floor instead.

"Now I could use a kraken," he sighed.

"Okay..." Emma furrowed her brow in amused confusion, "I'm going to bed. And you should too. You have school tomorrow, Henry."

"Yeah, I know," Henry sighed.

"Goodnight, mom," he said as he hugged her. He hesitated for a second before gathering the courage to turn to the pirate and reward him with a quick, sincere embrace too. "Goodnight, Killian."

The loving look in Hook's eyes, when he let him go and the corner of his mouth shot up in a tight half-smile, was something he knew he would treasure forever. He ran up the stairs before they finished bidding him goodnight too.

Yeah, he thought to himself, I guess I have a dad now.

#ouat one shot #ouat fanfic #captain cobra #captain cobra fanfic #killian jones #henry mills #domestic fluff #emma’s boys #nya writes

[epickiya722]

I idk how to put it but everytime that anyone says smth like "well someone should have called Katsuki out/done something for bullying Izuku" in regard to any person on class 1A or any UA teacher, i have to roll my eyes bc like,,,,,

it's none of their business??????? And it's not their place to try and put Izuku against Katsuki, or antagonize him when they didn't actually know what happened, and specially not now that they have known for a while how extremely important Katsuki is to Izuku.

And Izuku has never said or done anything that would ever even imply that he wanted someone to do anything of that nature for him. Correct me if i'm wrong.

What's also funny is that they act as if Bakugou's behavior continued and it really continued in high school.

"Bakugou is a bully."

Who is he bullying now? 1A was not with it. Midoriya even told him he wasn't gonna be his punching bag anymore.

I recently watched this short on this guy reacting to out of the four anime characters who got off the easiest. On that list is Bakugou, Orochimaru, Vegeta and some guy from One Piece... I don't remember his name, I am so sorry to my OP moots, I have yet to even start OP... (Bon Clay, his name is Bon Clay)

Anyways, he went through with each character and he explained how Bakugou did not get off easy. He kept it short but he didn't skip past the fact that Bakugou was indeed a bully. But he does include that Bakugou gave a heartfelt apology (who you know apologizes in the rain, head down and in front of other people) and he has development to his character that got him to that point.

And guess what?

That development didn't come easy! It wasn't like Bakugou acted out and someone didn't say something because multiple times someone in 1A or anyone else told him to pipe it down. It wasn't like Bakugou haven't had his pride hit either.

Hell, the thing I think a lot of people missed was that 1A and other characters only knew that Bakugou and Midoriya knew each other. They didn’t know Midoriya was bullied by Bakugou because neither said anything. Could see the hostility? Yes. But then Bakugou acted like that towards EVERYONE.

When he did, again, he always had someone reply back with a snarky reply or scowl him and anything else that humbled him in some way.

UA was just a turning point for Midoriya, but for Bakugou, too.

What else is funny to me is that the same people who say "Bakugou is a bully", never seem to call out the others who also mistreated Midoriya. Just Bakugou this and Bakugou that.

Are we sure they really hate Bakugou because as much as antis be wanting "Bakugou out the picture" or whatever, they make it about him more than the rest of us.

Like, granted, he is a major character to the story so of course, people will talk about him.

But come on. There were GROWN ASS ADULTS shunning Midoriya WHEN HE WAS BUT A TODDLER. Bakugou, when you really think about it, was just following that behavior.

Not excusing his behavior. But again, he was not the only one being an ass and not like he hasn't been called out either.

#kiya answers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku

[dreams-of-alpha-anatta]

God the new Dungeon lore is so good. I haven't been super enthusiastic about Destiny lore for the past few seasons (some stuff like Inspiral is fantastic, but I find most of it to lack the magic of stuff like Ecdysis or Constellations), but the new Xivu lore is fantastic. Finally getting to see Xivu's perspective, the VA's delivery, the new tidbits on their relationship... I haven't had brainworms like this for a lore drop in a while. I think my favourite thing about it is how it really gives a new perspective on the Books of Sorrow. You can sort of see it if you're looking for it, but I never realized just how much Xivu is motivated by love for her siblings. Like, her first piece of lore features her resentment about her siblings getting eaten. While Aurash navigates and Sathona listens to the worm, Xi Ro comforts them and tells stories. When bringing Auryx out of his catatonia, the worms never try to convince Xivu to kill him, instead directing her towards fighting the Ammonites. Later on, she volunteers to be killed in order to grant Auryx power to defeat the Ecumene. The examples go on and on, and it's such a compelling way to humanize a god of war. It feeds wonderfully into the whole tragedy of the BoS. She's not a ardent believer like Oryx or a schemer like Savathun. She just loved her siblings. But ever since Taox betrayed them, Xivu was doomed to lose them in a tragic way, either to combat or the Light, and nothing she's done in billions of years of conquest has changed that.

#destiny 2 #destiny lore #destiny 2 spoilers #destiny spoilers