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vinillain · 2 days

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Great wave chapter 2 spoilers// analysis cuz ahahahaha Adamai… when I get you…

Alr, rant because I’m the biggest Yugo & Adamai fan of all time. And I overanalyzed this chapter to death.

And how the way Adamai treats Yugo is one of the main reasons he’s distant from Amalia.

This pattern of behavior isn’t new, in s4 he was quick to come to Yugo’s defense when Nora was chastising him. Using words like “we” and because both of them were still feeling the euphoria of their reconciliation came to each-others defense in a new unfamiliar environment. But after he sees how shady and “heroic” their family is he ops to leave, and does so without explaining himself (about the dofus) to Yugo or trys to convince him to come along. Something he definitely would have done in s1-2. (And this is because they have grown so far apart the bond they once had is distant, albeit still there)

This behavior is similar, and again appears here in their entire conversation.

Yugo who was brooding and trying to be alone after his vision is greeted by Adamai, who IS genuinely worried about Yugo, since Yugo now carries the dofus of their people he and Adamai’s bond is “strengthened tenfold” allowing him to “almost hear his thoughts” and definitely feel his fear and dark feelings. And he immediately calls Yugo out when he tries to hide how upset he was (which tbh he likely does because of Adamai’s next reaction in a bit, meaning this is a common cycle)

Eventually after some talk Yu breaks down and is honest that he isn’t okay. That his visions terrified him, and here Adamai isn’t dismissive right off the bat, he states that he could feel how bad it was because of their bond, and knew it must have been bad if it shook Yugo up this much

And Yugo tells him about the vision and how “I am the cause.” To which Adamai questions as he seems to think internally, and Yugo like in chapter one with Amalia doesn’t question anything, again he only says “It was real.”

(I am roughly paraphrasing their dialogue so it’s not 100% accurate)

At this point Adamai scoffs at him to which Yugo who’s still upset by his vision flips out on him starting an argument. Asking if he “bores” Adamai

And Adamai tells him he needs to think with his head. He possesses the power of a god and can’t afford to think with emotions. Which is true, TOT said that Adamai was the logic to Yugo’s actions. He is the thought and the anchor, but while he isn’t wrong for saying this, the way he went about it is making things worse, but it also it makes sense why he did act this way towards Yugo.

Adamai is not someone who bases his feelings on emotions anymore.

He’s spent his entire childhood training and getting ready to meet Yugo and find their people. After the loss of Grougal he has spent his entire life trying to fill the void with an adult parental figure who holds power and wisdom that can help him achieve his goals the way he knows mortals can’t. Hence the “we needed someone with more guidance” like in s4 to Yugo. We don’t see exactly what happened to him from the OVA’s-s3. But we know it had a drastic change on him physically and especially mentally. And a big part of that is that he essentially became a vessel to their peoples dofus. In order to cope with his own trauma and feelings and taking on that responsibility of all this power he surprised any emotions or feelings that could cause him to act rash or get in the way of his main goals.

And when he did let his emotions take over because of his blind rage, he ended up hurting people he cared about which left him even more apprehensive to show any ever again. (Hence why he left his newly found family in s4) But in doing this to such an exstent the way he does, he never actually solves any personal problems of conflicts. Especially with his loved ones. He can’t rekindle his bond with Yugo or try to fix their relationship because he refuses to show any vulnerability. Which makes sense after he was left behind, betrayed and hurt so many times, and more so when he realized that he hurt others in his own pain. He doesn’t want to get hurt or hurt others again.

And as he states, Yugo has power beyond any mortal comprehension. He now carries the weight and responsibility of their people, and their siblings dofus. Honestly just their peoples future in general. He holds power, power many people want to steal from him or rid him of. Adamai compares Yugo’s situation to how he had to handle the dofus. That he needs to swallow any emotions and think logically. Which he has always done more out of the two of them. Vulnerability is a weakness to him. And Adamai doesn’t want Yugo to get hurt or hurt others like he has in the past.

He is cruel and harsh in his words. Telling Yugo he does “bore” him. And completely downplays his twin’s feelings because he sees them as being weak. But he DOES care about Yugo, in his eyes Yu will end up suffering more if he shows this vulnerability. It’s why he is mean and tells Yugo he can’t be acting like a child when he has all this responsibility and power in his hands. This isn’t the same when they were little kids, the stakes for them and their people are much hire now.

But to Yugo, who’s tried to fix their relationship countless times, is naturally upset at this. He feels unheard, that’s he’s being over dramatic and that his feelings don’t matter. That he isn’t allowed to be upset at his own trauma. Which is something i think paralells Goddess Eliatrope. How people dismiss her feelings and say she’s overreacting. That she needs to “get over herself” because she is a great goddess with all this power. Etc. something I hope we see more with Yugo aswell.

Being a king already isolates him enough, being a demigod with all this power does so even more. To Yugo, Adamai is the only one he can turn too when he’s upset. It’s why he was so desperate to find him in s3. Over growing old and being immortal. The problems that mortals can’t comprehend. (Something that definitely upsets him because the more power and godhood he gains the more distance he has between himself and his loved ones.) But when he opens up to Adamai about his fears and issues he is shut down or ignored. And that’s why he won’t open up to Amalia. If Ad dismisses and scoffs at his feelings then why should he try to open up to her? He adores and loves Amalia and fears the rejection she might give him. It’s why the moment she was slightly dismissive with her “Calm down, it was just a dream” he immediately leaves to be alone. He already has to deal with Adamai, he doesn’t want her to do it to him too.

But by doing this he is hurting her too. Like him Amalia is STRESSED beyond belief. She has a ton of weight and responsibility on her shoulders. And she can’t manage the conflicts of her people (especially with the eliatropes) If Yugo isn’t there to help her, If Yugo won’t be vulnerable to her. If he doesn’t trust her or won’t rely on her with his problems then how can she? How can she be open with him if he runs away from her at the deepest issues when they share so much intimacy and love.

Their is already clear tension among the Sadida’s and the (VERY FEW) Eliatropes who now live among them. Many are unhappy with the changes, some openly voicing how “Armand would never have allowed this” suggesting they don’t like Yugo as their king either. And the old man talking about how he lost his son in the war, that the eliatropes haven’t faced sacrifice. (And this is despite that fact that they don’t know anything about their past or the war they went through, how they lost their own families- claiming they don’t understand Sadidan culture or tradition but never trying to learn the other sides either.)

Communication is the key to relationships. Being open and vulnerable is how we understand eachother. Something reflected in the main three so far and the Sadidans+Eliatropes. Yugo keeps shutting Amalia out because of how Adamai treats him. Creating this endless cycle of distrust among the two and it’s reflected in their own people. Both could be amazing rulers and created a better place if they were both open with each-other. But they won’t, and unless Adamai and in turn Yugo open up and show vulnerability. They don’t have to show all of it, trust is slowly gained. Little by little in a healthy manner. But if Yugo doesn’t then the discourse and tension will continue to grow among all their people. (And if you’ve seen the teaser for a certain upcoming chapter you can see how that’s going 😭😭😭)

Anyway, in conclusion: someone please get them therapy

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sailor-aviator · 2 days

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Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

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ihatealimore · 1 day

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Lover, You Should've Come Over

(word count: 1.432) (angst, comfort)

Sitting alone in the dim room, Kurapika finds himself consumed by a painful wave of regret. His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingernails digging dents into his skin as he thinks about (Y/N). A beautiful woman with sharp eyes that saw right through him.

"I pushed her away," He mutters to himself, the extent of his actions weighing on him heavily, "I was so concerned about dragging her down with me... I didn't consider what it would do to her."

The memories of their past together begin to seep into his mind like venom spreading its poison throughout an unsuspecting body. Their laughter echoing through empty halls, the way she'd playfully tugged on a lock of his blonde hair whenever they sparred together. Each memory brings forth another flood of bitter sorrow that gnaws at the edges of Kurapika's already damaged heart.

"She deserved better," He whispers hoarsely against the icy silence that wraps around him, "And I... I couldn't give it to her."

The taste of regret is sour on his tongue, but nothing stings more than remembering how (Y/N) had looked at him when he walked away, pure understanding reflected in those knowing eyes. A silent acceptance that cut deeper than any blade.

"(Y/N)," Kurapika breathes out, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer.

His gaze focuses on the empty space before him as if he could summon her back with just his longing.

"I'm sorry. I should've stayed," He murmurs quietly into the stillness of the room, shame lacing every word, "I miss you..."

A strained sigh escapes Kurapika's lips, his eyes dull and filled with sorrow, "If only I could see her again..." His voice trails off into a broken whisper, the words hanging stubbornly in the stagnant air surrounding him.

He would give anything to see those bright eyes again, to see her smiling at him so tenderly, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. The pain plaguing him seems unending, spiraling deeper within his chest with every passing second.

His hand instinctively moves towards where he imagines (Y/N) might be sitting if she were here, an empty gesture aimed at filling a void he himself had created. He misses everything about her, her stubbornness, her recklessness...

But most importantly, how understanding she was, even when things didn't make sense.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Kurapika declares quietly as if making a vow to himself, "I just want another chance."

The blonde-haired man's hand hovers over his phone, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He contemplates calling her, the weight of his decision making his heart pound louder in his chest. His fingers itch to dial her number, a series of digits he had memorized by heart.

The screen glows softly in the dim room, casting an eerie light onto Kurapika's face as he scrolls through his contacts until (Y/N)'s name comes into view. Her contact picture is one they'd taken together during happier times, both of them smiling so brightly that their joy seems almost tangible.

His thumb hovers over her name for what feels like an eternity, every second amplifying the heavy silence encompassing him. The fear gripping at him feels strong and suffocating. What if she doesn't answer? Worse yet... What if she does?

"(Y/N)..." He says under his breath, steeling himself before finally pressing down on her contact information.

As he brings the phone up to his ear, Kurapika bites down hard on his lip. He can taste the metallic tang of blood dripping into his mouth but he barely registers it. All he can focus on is the rhythmic beating of a dial tone, a stark contrast to his erratic heartbeat.

His grip tightens around the device as every passing second becomes a harsh reminder of how much time had been wasted, how many words were left unsaid, and how many actions were done out of fear instead of love. His breath hitches when after several agonizing moments, her voicemail greeting plays.

But even just hearing her recorded voice gives him a brief sense of reprieve, grounding him back to reality from where regret and pain drag him deep within its clutches. It isn't enough though. He needs more than just echoes of her voice trapped in a digital recording.

Hearing the beep indicating it's time to leave a message, Kurapika takes in a deep breath before speaking. His voice quivers slightly, but he presses on, "(Y/N)... It's me, Kurapika."

He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now but... I miss you."

The words taste bitter on his tongue, an admission of guilt and longing wrapped together.

There's another tension-filled pause before he finally lets out what had been gnawing at him all night long, "Please come over. I need to see you..."

With that final plea hanging heavily in between them, even if she isn't there physically, he ends the call. His phone drops back onto his lap as he leans back into his chair, letting out a sigh full of uncertainty and vulnerability.

She may not come... But at least now she knows how desperate he is without her.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Kurapika had begun to lose hope. The silence is deafening and doubt claws at his insides with a vengeance. He spends the passing hours aimlessly pacing around his apartment, trying to distract himself from constantly glancing towards his phone.

When he hears a subtle knock echo through the room, the Kurta freezes in place, heart pounding fiercely against his ribcage as he makes way to the door.

Dread and anticipation swirls within him as he gently pulls open the door, revealing (Y/N) standing there under dimly lit hallway lights, her silhouette creating shadows that dance across her features.

For a moment, it seems as if time itself has stopped, everything silent except for their shallow breaths mixing together in sync before he finally releases an audible sigh of relief.

"Kurapika?" Her voice is filled with surprise, and before she can utter another word, he has already thrown his arms around her. His grip is tight, a desperate hold born out of fear that if he lets go even slightly, she'll disappear.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, every inch of him attempting to memorize her, the way she feels against him, the faint scent of her hair mixing with the outside air lingering on her clothes.

A shaky breath escapes him as he tries to gain control over his racing heart, albeit in vain, because now that she's here within his reach again... He doesn't want to let go.

"Kurapika?" She echoes and the sound of her voice, so close and filled with concern, causes something warm to bloom in his chest. As she returns his embrace and begins to rub soothing circles on his back, he feels a few of the knots in his stomach start to unravel.

"You sounded... Unwell in your voicemail. Are you okay?" Her words resound through him, genuine worry laced into each syllable.

"I..." He swallows hard as he draws back just enough to look at her, meeting those beautiful eyes that hold nothing but sincerity, "I've been better," It isn't a lie but it doesn't feel like the whole truth either.

"I can tell," She replies quietly.

He lets out another trembling breath before tightening his hold around her again, not ready yet to fully face what's been haunting him for so long without having her close.

For now, he wants to linger in her arms. Holding onto her as if she's his lifeline, Kurapika allows himself to sink deeper into her embrace, her comforting warmth seeping through the fabric of his clothes and into his cold existence.

He presses his face further into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent deeply, "Just let me hold you for a bit longer," He murmurs against her flesh, hoping she'll understand just how much he needs this right now.

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere," She whispers against his ear, the softness of her voice flowing into him and further calming his anxious thoughts.

Kurapika's heart constricts at her promise, gratitude washing over him in waves. He tightens his hold on her further, as if conveying all the unspoken emotions through this one gesture.

He doesn't know how long they stood there in silence, time seeming to lose its grip on him as he simply allows himself to exist within this comforting bubble with her by his side... And for once, it feels okay to let down the walls around him even if it is just for a little while.

This feels like home to him, something he thought he had lost forever.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #romance #hunter x hunter x reader #writing #kurapika #kurapika x reader #kurapika oneshot #idk if this is any good lol #tried to be poetic

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jqnehr · 19 hours

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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

#i saw somewhere that apparently boothill was mostly illiterate?? oh well if he this then that last part was ooc ig #anyways this was so fun to write OMG #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill #boothill x y/n #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x female reader

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isan0rt · 19 hours

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@lightandfellowship re: your tags on this post (just to kind of bring this out to a different post).

I was thinking about making a separate post to expand on those tags anyway because they were a little off topic to the op, but I was like, you know, it's that Xehanort was worse to the Dandelions than Luxu was, yes. But Luxu was supposed to be that callous to the Dandelions in the first place. He was supposed to think of them as tools and to just let whatever fucked up thing was supposed to happen to them just happen. And with anyone else he can, but he can't put his personal feelings aside enough to 'do what needs to be done' for this set of people alone.

But Xehanort can.

And I think that's really interesting when looking at Xehanort as the 'replacement Luxu.' Xehanort who, as observed by another post I don't have immediately to hand, speaks with MoM twice. Xehanort who is chosen by MoM and manipulated into doing his bidding the same way Luxu was, given the same coat and made the heir to Luxu's keyblade, Xehanort who actually is allowed to take action to bring the Keyblade War about and revive the Lost Masters while Luxu is only allowed to watch.

Actually I started this post with a different thesis ('Xehanort is able to put his personal feelings aside and be ruthless even where Luxu fails to follow his role') but writing that paragraph I've changed my mind actually. Because Luxu has basically no agency in this situation, whereas Xehanort does.

Like, both of them are assigned roles by their mentors but Xehanort isn't really given a road map about how to fulfill his role. He's being manipulated, sure, but he's also making choices himself all along. They're choices that are fucked up but he understands they're fucked up and is choosing them anyway because he strongly feels it's necessary for the greater good.

Luxu has been told these things are necessary for the greater good. He's been told what to do. He's been told to just watch and that he can never take action. He doesn't even have the illusion of agency that Xehanort, who is actively choosing to lean into his feeling that destiny is inevitable, does. What is that like, to live hundreds of years never having any sense of agency? For Luxu, helping the Dandelions is fucking up. It's doing what he knows he's not supposed to, what he's been told is against the Plan, but he has no agency and this is his little way of rebelling, even if this is, to us, the 'right' thing to do. There's a question of what actually is 'right' and 'wrong' here and whether Xehanort is a 'better Luxu' than Luxu for choosing to simply follow The Plan.

Also I'm rambling here but putting things together as I go, sorry to also expand on other tags on posts I reblogged from you lol, but like. Luxu also very clearly has Lucifer stuff going on, the same way Xehanort does, down to the name. Xehanort takes on the Satan imagery over time - but it was Luxu's first. And Luxu is the one who actually tried to rebel against his Creator by deviating from his role (only to watch) and intervening with the Union leaders.

The thing about angels is they are not, in Catholic traditions (I can't speak to other denominations) is that they are not supposed to have free will. Free will is for humans; angels only follow The Plan, with no agency or say in the matter. They're messengers and avatars created only to execute the will of God. The Foretellers seem to play this role, if you will, in relation to Master of Masters. He hands them roles to execute the plan he's already designed. If we're, in this analogy, considering Master of Masters to be in the role of 'god', both Ava and Luxu are ultimately fallen angels - they both question the will of their creator, both rebel - but Luxu rebelling was built into the plan. He is Lucifer, and Lucifer rebels, and so he was still allowed to come back to the fold at the end of kh3, having fulfilled his duty even considering his rebellion. He still had no agency in the end, even having done what he thought was exercising it by saving the Union leaders.

Anyway I'm just rambling on at this point and don't really have a conclusion to this but the whole interplay between Luxu and Xehanort, agency and servitude, angels and devils, light and dark, feels really compelling to me.

#not to be getting theological on main here either but also to do that #I have more than a decade of intense religious education and even though i no longer do organized religion like #it's a topic that kh seems to have a lot of themes kh engages with #Luxu #Xehanort

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butterflylaravaesyrup · 2 days

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yandere (chiropractor) x !fem reader

vernorexia(n.) – a romantic mood inspired by warm weather and early springtime - /vern-oh-rex-eyuh/

it was a glum day today; dewy rain drops and mushy leaves scattered around your neighbourhood. and, to make it even worse, you had an appointment today, a chiropractic consultation with a doctor whom you did not know.

but it was okay, right? it was just a crack of the bones, to make your aching body feel better. 10 23 am

you arrive at the clinic, turning your windshield wipers off and parking your car. the clinic has a mahogany wood outside, and it was easy on the eyes. you realize you are being soaked in rain, and run inside the small building. a gust of lavender and vanilla enters your nostrils, its aromatic smell pleasing all your senses. you walk up to the receptionist. “hello, I’m here for an appointment with erm..” you don’t know his name. “doctor hart? I’ve got your file right here. ms. y/n l/n? he’s the only chiropractor here today, no one works on sundays.” the receptionist smiles, she was a pregnant, red head woman with a rather thin physique, her name plate read ‘kacie barlowe, receptionist’.

“that.. would be me. thank you.” you say, and take a seat in a waiting chair. “he will be with you briefly.” she mutters, clicking away on her keyboard, eyes glued on her computer screen.

the clinic had a birch wood finish, and plenty of plants in the waiting area, which was pleasant. you twiddle with your thumbs, glancing at the receptionist who took a sip of her drink occasionally.

“y/n l/n?” the chiropractor says in a deep, yet calm voice, his body half in the doorway and half in the corridor. you look down, and grab your things as you follow dr. hart into the office. “right this way,” he says. you make it there in a quick 30 seconds, and he closes the door right behind you.

“well hello there,” he says, grabbing a clipboard and gathering his tools. “If you may not already know, I’m Doctor Hart. I’ll be fixing you up today! So, before we get started I’m going to need a little information. Any sore spots? Previous surgeries?” He asks, looking up at you. His voice is soothing, like honey to your ears. And boy, is he cute. His green eyes stares into your e/c ones, his gaze lingering for a little too long. “um, my back has really been bothering me, so has my neck. as for surgeries, none.” You reply. You answer any other questions that he asks you, and he gets you to lay on the bed.

“Alright then, let’s get started, shall we?” He grabs an adjuster, and places it on your shoulder. It makes a slight ‘crack’ sound, and you feel like your shoulder has been put back in a place you didn’t know existed. You grunt softly, but stay still nonetheless. he does this again with your back, and your neck before he uses his hands to relax your muscles. “Let’s get your trigger points active,” he says, and he starts moving his hands all over your back, neck and even your legs. it feels like a new experience, a piece of heaven.

After a half an hour, the treatment is done. He places some sort of a lotion and spreads it out on your neck. It smells, again, like lavender. What is up with this place and lavender? you think.

“and..you’re done.” Dr hart says, grinning softly. he helps you off of the bed. “my body feels like jelly..” you mutter under your breath, struggling to keep your balance. “that’s alright, it’s normal. if you’d like.. you could just stay here for a bit. I need to grab the print out of your body analysis, anyways.” he says, before leaving the room. “oh- okay?” You say, sitting in a chair next to his desk. he was an organized individual, despite all of the neon yellow post-it notes that practically covered his bulletin board. at his desk, is a picture frame of him that looks like he’s at his graduation, holding his doctorate. In another frame, there is a woman he has his arm wrapped around. She’s blonde, like him, with a pink polo and brown eyes. she was outstandingly pretty. well, to be fair, he was a fairly good looking guy himself, so no surprise there. perhaps it’s his wife?

just then, dr hart walks in with the report. He cocks a blonde eyebrow, but hands it to you anyways in a disturbed manner. did he catch you checking out his pictures? you grab your bag. “uh, thank you, dr hart. have a great rest of your day—“ you say. “Sorry, I think you’ve forgotten something.” He says. It’s a hat, but it’s not yours. He grabs your wrist and injects a vein with a syringe filled with a yellow hued liquid inside. You start to feel drowsy. “doctor..?” You mumble, before blacking out completely. All you can hear now is dr hart’s shuffling as he stares into your soul, your heart beating in your chest.

will you continue? find the next part in my account ;)

#Yandere doctor #yandere x reader #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere #doctor

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dariwrites03 · 1 day

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Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said, sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself.

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her.

Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper. You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper. It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship? Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five.

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected. "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood. But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil. "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up. Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore.

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff ''You can meet sophia and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know. But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying''

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue. Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie." His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

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caseys-breanna · 14 hours

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Ok I just finished rewatching The Rundown Job and so far I have -

The most ridiculously peacocking display of competence porn. What do you mean "'sup Eliot." What do you mean "who needs luck". Where is your damn shame? Where is hundred more episodes of just like this? 10/10 worth every watch.

'I've got a hacker *enter bf*, and a thief *enter gf*'

Only Parker noticing 'too many cops'. It's such a cool detail throughout the show how observant she is just offhandedly, unlike Eliot who observes actively.

Parker pretending to promptly fall asleep as soon as they're in the truck, only to have the handcuffs off in seconds.

"What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname." I'll bet all the kudos on my most popular fic that he hacks into his own pentagon file regularly to make up his own nickname.

"Hell your girlfriend's already out of the cuffs" *Parker smiling and sliding them off* AND IT'S DIRECTED NOT TO HARDISON, HER EXPLICITLY STATED BOYFRIEND, BUT AT ELIOT, THEIR BOYFRIEND.

Putting Hardison in those glasses. Those damn glasses. I need a glass of water jfc it's hot in here

'For better or worse, we change together'. Aaaaaand that's on wedding vows.

"I'll drive." "Hold on." "Exactly." "No, I mean hold on. (Our gf is a former gateway car driver)". "Oh. Oh you mean. Yeah."

The hand on the wrist and eye contact and saying 'I'm not afraid. I got the best thief and the smartest guy I know chasing this guy'

HAND ON THE BACK OF THE NECK AND PULLING CLOSER 'HEY LISTEN TO ME YOU'RE THE SMARTEST GUY I'VE EVER KNOWN HARDISON I NEED THAT BRAIN TO GET ME TO HIM. GET ME TO HIM'. Screaming crying frothing at the mouth et cetera et cetera

Figuring out the job TOGETHER

This is Hardison. Hardison likes his personal space. These are Parker and Eliot. Parker and Eliot also like Hardison's personal space.

The eyes on each other's lips during unlocking doors and saying thank you

'Kiss for luck?' the sequel: love boogaloo

HACKING THE MF CAR HORN WITH AN SOS THROUGH A MOBILE PHONE

"BOOM MY BOY THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!" first of all that's his boy so jot that down

Also side note this episode shows the fascinating way Hardison uses his brain and I wish we saw more of it because it's fascinating how he derives what he does from the few bits of data he gathers

"He's on the train!" "Yeah well so am I." "When you pick him out of the crowd-" "No. I'm ON the train! 🙄 Never mind..."

Two good ole boys behind the wheel 🎶 chasing the target and their gf in a million dollar car 🎵 two good ole boys-

*Hanging by her fingertips from a running train roof almost mashed into pulp by signage" WOOOOOO HOOOOO

The way Parker picks him out, not by using thief sense, but mastermind sense that he's immune -> got vaccinated -> pain in the arm. Brilliant way to pick someone out from a crowd while not raising panic

Keeping him talking till she takes the briefcase that he HANDCUFFED to himself right under his nose. How? Well, she's Parker.

"I kept one diamond. Sorry." I love her

Finally "kiss for luck" the trilogy comes to an end

*casually endangers self* "Fire is the only thing that kills it right?"

"Don't do that to me, I can't lose you. Do you understand? I can't lose you. Don't scare me like that. I can't-"

Eliot Spencer: *Barks 'Alright!' at the guy touching him to literally patch up his bullet wound.* Also Eliot Spencer: *ditches crutches so he can lean on his girlfriend and boyfriend*

"I work with them now." Would you like to stay for dinner? "Honor among thieves? Something like that." WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER??!!!

"I don't do hospital." "I told you, he takes getting shot very lightly." Uh huh, you know what I smell? LOVE. In the air! Might be some blood from those bullet wounds too ig.

What a show.

#leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker leverage #jace.txt #leverage ot3 #eliot x parker x hardison #hitter hacker thief #'we change together'#the rundown job

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 3 days

Note

Can you make some sad libby headcanons? I swear all your other sad headcanons made me cry😭

sad libby head canons

YES! libby is literally the fucking best and she's so underrated. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts/attempts, eating disorders, and sexual assault. hope you like them <3.

she used to apologize to her mother after she would hit her (in tig she says her mother used to hit her when she was stressed)

she's been self-harming since she was like 12. she used the blade in her pencil sharpener and cut the tops of her thighs (you can't see them even when she wears shorts)

drake convinced her that him SAing her was out of love, and that he knew she 'wanted' it so she should stop complaining. she'd be the one who ended up apologizing to him after he'd assault her

in high school, because of how tough things were at home, she used to do drugs (she had this really bad group of friends that sort of influenced her) (she didn't get addicted to the drugs though, if was more of a once in a while thing when she couldn't handle her life anymore)

at some point, her mom was doing really badly financially, and they were forced to move into a smaller one bedroom apartment. libby thought her mom deserved the bed bc she worked so hard so she slept on the floor.

she's so used to people hitting her that it doesn't even hurt anymore. when someone does, she sort of dissociates in order to not feel anything.

her mom used to tell her she was overweight (she was literally underweight, her mom was just jealous). libby then developed an eating disorder (bulimia)

the ED was sort of an on and off thing for her. every once in a while, she'd get the idea in her head that she was overweight and ugly and should do smth about it, but, then, avery or one of her friends would help her get better.

the reason she's drawn to men like drake is bc it's the only thing she's familiar with. her mom was a piece of shit too, so for her its what's normal/what she deserves (this is less of a head canon and more psychology but eh)

she'll do anything anyone asks of her. she can't say no even if it makes her uncomfortable/she doesn't have the time/doesn't like that person.

she sometimes gets so mad at the world that she punches walls until her bones almost break.

she hates getting mad at people bc she reminds herself of her mother.

she's terrified of becoming a mother (even though she wants to be one) bc she's convinced herself that she'll be like her mom, if not worse.

her mom used to get mad at her for ricky (her father) leaving. so much so that libby started blaming herself for it

drake used to tell libby that if she didn't let him have his way with her, he'd hurt avery. libby, of course, didn't want that so she would let him do awful things to her.

she hates taking baths bc drake used to waterboard her (if you don't know what that is, search it up)

when libby used to do things her mom didn't approve of/like (mistakes all children make and learn from like spilling a glass of milk), she would deny libby basic needs like food, water, a bed to sleep in etc.

idk if this one will make sense (it makes sense to me but idk), but libby dyes her hair a new color very often bc its a way for her to start anew. like lets say she breaks up with drake again and she hates herself for getting back together with him in the first place, she dyes her hair a new color to signify the beginning of a new era.

she will literally break her back to please people/be the person they want her to be. if they think she talks to much, she'll stop talking, etc (people's opinions of her matter a lot to her)

tw prob one of the darkest hcs i've ever written: libby ended up in the hospital once bc she slit her wrists trying to off herself. this happened right before she took avery in. the doctors didn't think she'd make it.

she'd considered offing herself multiple times before and after the last hc, but she doesn't bc just the thought of it makes her feel guilty. she doesn't want people to cry over her bc she thinks she doesn't deserve their tears, and she doesn't want to leave people she wants to help

she insists everyone get therapy but herself bc, to her, other people matter more

the only thing that brought her comfort as a child was this stuffed bunny. she used to press it to her wounds bc it would dull the pain (this might not make sense but whenever i get hurt (cause im ass clumsy bitch), putting pressure on the wound dulls the pain). she also found comfort in how soft it was.

drake threw that bunny away cause he thought it was worthless. libby told nash about this and he searched the entire fucking country until he found that damn stuffed bunny (idk how he did but he's a hawthorne so...)

when she has panic attacks, she'll either be very silent/still in a corner or she'll be clawing/pulling at anything around her (including herself)

she didn't do well in school not bc she wasn't smart but bc the students and teachers were so creepy towards her (would harass her constantly) that she felt uncomfortable even stepping into the school

absolutely hates it when drunk people interact with her/get too close to her bc whenever drake got drunk, he'd hit her

hannah's death hit her hard too. they were actually much closer than people thought they were. hannah helped her through a lot of shitty things that happened in her life. she would visit her grave every once in a while to tell her she wished she was still here bc her life (and avery's) was absolutely shit without her. she would breakdown in the middle of the graveyard every time

whenever she felt like hurting herself but didn't have a blade nearby, she would dig her fingernails into the already existing wounds to make them bleed again.

drake once beat her up so bad she ended up in the hospital with brain swelling and a fractured arm. the swelling in her brain was so bad they didn't know if she'd make it out alive.

here's a happy libby head canon to (hopefully) make it all better:

she used to be this supervisor at a daycare when she was younger (that's probably not even a thing but lets pretend it is). the kid would make her drawings all of the time with hearts and proposals and stuff. she loved the kids so much, she would hug every single one of them and bake them cupcakes. they were literally her best friends, and some of them still send her messages through their mom/dad (she would befriend their parents and give them her number/email)

not proof read bc i'm a lazy ass bitch. i say this in every post, but pls talk to someone if you need help (if there's no one in your life you can talk to, contact a helpline). sending lots of love to everyone <3.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs

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thegnomelord · 1 day

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I already know what I wanna have tattooed and I'm hoping it doesn't go near any of my scars because I have sensitive skin especially in the scarred areas. It's supposed to be a tattoo dedicated to my father

Yeah I figured, it's just my asks tend to get kinda long because I vomit words where they don't belong (in someone's ask box instead of the many drafts I'm supposed to be posting)

Oh yeah that makes sense. I just remembered you mentioning how Hound was often put in a sort of ring to fight others and if he lost the winners got to do whatever they wanted to him, so I imagined like maybe someone SA'd Hound or whatnot and Makarov saw and thought it was a good idea (sorry if that was too like...unhinged ig?) cuz it would be a power imbalance thing.

Anyways, I'd like to join the cult but I think I'll stay out of the tank, I don't like water

- 🪒

Ooh that's cool! I always love it when ppl have like sentimental tattoos because all of mine will probably end up being bc I felt like it lol.

Lol do I know the feeling about that :D word vomit in my inbox is fine dude!

Nah like, SA definitely did happen to Hound, especially at the start when it was about breaking down his spirit and because he was so weak he couldn't fight back properly. I was just hesitant to say it out right bc I was still trying to figure out if I wanted to explore that topic in my writing and a bit worried if I could write it in a way that didn't sexualize or glorify rape.

After Hound broke was when the sexual aspect of their power dynamic began, before that Makarov didn't touch him mainly because he considered Hound so below him that it was disgusting for him.

Funny enough Hound getting thrown into the fight ring as Hound is worse than when it happened when he was a sergeant, bc Makarov has conditioned him to only crave his touch and anyone else touching him feels like acid on his skin. So atop the ache of displeasing Makarov enough to throw him into the pit, he's (in hound's mind) further disobeying Makarov by being so weak that others can touch him.

Also please don't join the cult, they're trying to awaken Cthulhu my fucking ex and I'd rather not see the fucker again

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #good dog fic #hound-reader #🪒anon

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soldirboy · 2 days

Text

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love

Word Count: 2113

A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*

Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly got serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I dont understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.

As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.

He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.

“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”

Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.

A/N: I'm not built for this.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

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birdsong-warriors · 1 year

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SwiFT, WE CAN SEE YOU.

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Part 1: Friend and Family

See up to thirty pages ahead, with timelapses, on Patreon!

Backgrounds, brushes, and other assets for sale on my Ko-Fi!

#gosh the response to rhe last page set genuinely made me cry #im so blown away by your guys' support #like i try really hard not to directly reference too many specific cultures/histories because i dont feel it would be my place to do so??#tiger's tyranny is inspired by a LOT both real and fictional and its a bit scary to write given his soft spot for his family #i dont want him to seem too relatable hes still awful #gonna stop talking i feel like im probably making no sense #or worse making sense but not saying things right #hhhh okay #swifthawk's chance #blood and bone #implied racism #ask to tag #comic pages #in case its not clear swift is only half joking but tiger assumes its all a joke lol #featherpaw #feathertail #leopardfur #leopardstar #swiftpaw #swifthawk #tigerclaw #tigerstar #tawnypaw #tawnypelt #brick #bloodclan #they just sittin there like 'man this is fun to watch lol'

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autistic-katara · 1 month

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there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

#i know i just posted that other thing but ffs that is NOT how u handle someone in that situation everyone involved made everything 10x worse #yet it’s being treated like the right thing to do (which again ofc they’re cops they don’t understand harm reduction but still) like #seriously everything’s so forceful like u seriously think forcing ur friend to talk to u or forcing a patient to talk to a therapist under #the threat of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital is gonna make her feel comfortable talking to u? or anyone? she’s just gonna trust u #less and get better at hiding it and speaking of which the taking away all sharp objects thing makes sense in theory but like think abt it #for a minute she confirmed she isn’t suicidal and this is her only way of coping so do not just forcibly take away all her coping mechanism #like yes she is hurting herself but it’s a COPING MECHANISM. she’s coping with something. help her with that don’t just take away her penci #sharpers or whatever (which btw since she’s an adult she could easily buy more stuff and yk learn to hide it better) which again has to be #voluntary it isn’t gonna work if u force someone to do smthn they don’t want to like as ur friend u could’ve made it clear u care abt her #and wouldn’t judge her for anything and r here if she wants to talk don’t just say “you have to talk to me” and casually threaten #hospitalisation when she isn’t ready in the moment like seriously if this wasn’t a badly written fanfic she would completely stop trusting #bcz given that this wasn’t even done out of panic i would like ffs u are NOT doing any of this right #oops sorry ranted abt the bad fic in my tags-#it’s not where the author’ll see it and know it’s about them i don’t feel bad abt it #this was my first time even looking at stuff for this fandom so #cw self harm in tags #idk if i need to tag anything else for that 😭#fanfic #ao3 #ryan shut the fuck up

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brittlebutch · 3 months

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Desperately trying to make sense of Alex's motivations in Season Two and you know, I do eventually have to wonder if maybe Alex wasn't actually lying in the majority of those tapes.

Like, we tend to assume that Alex's motivations have been a consistent throughline since the college years, but do we actually know that that's the case? Do we know for sure that Alex was acting in deliberate, calculated ways in 2006; or could it be that he's telling the Truth on those olds tapes when he says he's blacking out and can't remember what's happening to anyone? After all, if we're assuming that Season 2 Alex's motivations are the exact same as his motives in Season 3, then it doesn't make any sense at all that he spend months working with Jay to try to find Amy; Season 3 Alex would have attempted to kill Jay like, on sight just to get things over with as quickly as possible and contain the spread of contamination as best as he could.

But, maybe, if Alex really had been separated from Amy after the events of the 04-04-10 tape, and if he really doesn't know where she is, then maybe that could make things start to make more sense. Maybe he really had been watching Jay's channel, and seeing Jay start going through the same things he went through in college without things devolving into violence and disappearances, and wondered if things maybe could play out differently this time. Maybe he really did send that tape to Jay to ask him for help, maybe he really was just trying to find Amy.

But then, instead of actually being helpful, Jay makes it extremely clear that he's a lot more interested in stalking Alex than he is in finding Amy. Alex asked for help, and instead there's a bunch of masked dudes on Jay's heels that keep attacking him, Jay is breaking into his house, stealing his things, leading the Operator right to him all over again, keeps trying to get other people (namely: Jessica -- if Alex is being honest when he says that his call reassuring her that Amy had been found was an effort to make Sure she stayed away from everything that was happening) involved; and instead of anything getting better, instead of anyone finding Amy, things are just getting worse all over again.

It's not until after the incident at the tunnel that things seem to start rapidly devolving. Rather than a calculated attempt to finally follow through with his need to curb the spread of contamination, this is very clearly an outburst of rage and terror. Alex's "I told you not to follow me" line in conjunction with Jay speculating that Alex didn't know who that guy was, to me, pretty firmly seems to speak to Alex having mistaken that stranger for Jay. From his point of view, Alex knows that Jay and totheark know where he live, have broken in before, he suspects that Jay stole a key to make it easier to get into his house, and he's been followed on the daily for months -- Alex is sitting at the tunnel because he doesn't know where else he can go without being constantly surveilled, hunted, and assaulted. And instead of getting a moment by himself to breathe, Jay followed him out there all over again (it feels like Alex looks directly at the camera in Jay's footage of him from this day; he knew for a fact that Jay was there), and then to make matters worse now 'Jay' won't even keep his distance anymore.

So Alex lashes out. And it's not until afterwards that he looks down and finally recognizes that this wasn't Jay -- it was someone completely innocent. Things have finally reached the low point he was at in college all over again; maybe even worse this time. If Alex doesn't remember attacking anyone in college, but he was at least partially conscious of it this time, then things have reached an entirely new rock bottom, they've reached an absolute point of no return.

He has no idea what happened to Amy, and he's spent months trying to find her with no hint of where she could be; he doesn't know where Jay actually is or what additional trouble he could be causing at this point; he does know that now innocent people are getting caught in the crossfire (in regards to the stranger in the tunnel, and also Jessica now that Jay has her phone number, and the untold number of people Jay got involved when he started posting videos to the Marble Hornets channel); things are spiraling out of control and there's no one left to ask for help. The situation isn't getting better, it's getting worse; things aren't getting easier to handle, they're just getting more out of hand; the negative impact is spreading and who knows how much further it can still go?

So, Alex decides to go scorched earth. He disfigures the body with the rock either to hide evidence or to make sure the guy would actually stay dead and not just get back up to start his own cycle of contamination in a few years. He tries to give Jay one last chance to back off, and Jay instead admits he's been talking to Jessica, acts obstinate and lies about not having Alex's spare key, and then breaks into Alex's house a second time (minimum). If Alex doesn't stop him now, who will? Alex met with Jay planning to kill the others, and then himself, so he could put a stop to this once and for all and keep things from getting any worse than they already were.

Maybe it makes a lot more sense if, rather than being a strangely incomprehensible detour on what should have been a straight path, the events of Season Two were the breaking point that put Alex on that path to begin with.

#N posts stuff #idk!!! I've been thinking a lot lately about the tendency to take Characters at Face Value; when they tell us things we tend to #automatically believe them despite what evidence we might have to the contrary. & like when it comes to deciphering what #went down during the college film project it's mostly totheark that posits that Alex was Definitely Lying and Definitely Acting on Purpose #(even Jay is largely ambivalent - wondering which way it leans and basically saying it could go either way)#but. do we KNOW that they know that? Do we Know that they're Right when they claim that? Or are they just Assuming based off #of their own rage and animosity towards Alex due to what happened? Do we Know for Sure that Alex Was Lying in s1?#i don't know if we do!! And so without Knowing that for sure; how can we speak to Alex's motivations in season one OR season two?#now TO BE CLEAR: I am not saying this in an attempt to claim that Alex is somehow completely innocent of all guilt and that like.#Jay is the 'Real Antagonist' of the series - not at all my intention. this is just More of my usual 'look. Everyone in this series is #all kinds of Morally Grey; no recurring character in this series is free of guilt they ALL have unique fatal flaws & trends towards #antagonism that makes things worse and dooms them all' shtick - a la 'everyone Thinks they're doing the Right Thing but No One Is'#BUT i Am wondering if this Does help to like. clear up some of the ambiguity/uncertainty of Season Two - and even Season One - and #lets the series as a whole read a little bit clearer? idk i know that Jay does Claim to think that Alex was bullshitting him #the whole time & was Actually planning on tying up loose ends the whole time but AGAIN it doesn't make Sense he'd wait so long #idk - Am i making sense? does any of this track? i'm trying to figure it out; i am open to comments on the subject to help #i haven't rewatched season 3 yet today and so maybe there's stuff in there that contradicts this whole theory lmao but i'm taking a break #and just posting this anyway; we'll see what happens lol #marble hornets #mh lb

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