#// me: sees posts about ash winning

[moe-broey]

Alfonse King of Minding His Own Business. Kiran Monarch of I WANNA BE A FURRY I WANNA BE A FURRY I WANNA BE A FURRY SOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING BAAAAAADDDDDD

Kiran drop your fursona NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[radiotorn]

i need to draw o/ff characters again and post hcs abt them to my blog. oogoog

[voltagedoubler]

“Oh, Ash won! Congratulations, Ash!” Clemont exclaimed rather brightly with genuine surprise and happiness, grinning.

[ilovebuckers5]

*•♡never be like you ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I wanna hold the hand inside you. I wanna take the breath that's true"

word count - 3.4k

themes :

-fluff

-comfort

-toxic rls

warnings :

-arguing

-mentions to abuse

-explicit language

-iowa winning

A/N - did I get you guys. y'all really thought I would wait any longer to post this....

"can we please not do this ash."

i practically pleaded for my boyfriend to not argue with me before a big performance.

it was the day I had been waiting for since I was ever even notified that there would be a uconn game against iowa. I couldn't be dealing with relationship issues right before.

i attempted slipping on my skirt in the bathroom while my boyfriends voice was ringing in my ear no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I hate arguments. especially when they are stupid and have no point in even happening.

"no we are doing this now I don't care! you need to tell me the truth before you leave." Asher growled from outside the bathroom door. part of me wanted to swing the door open and break his nose but I knew that I didn't have time for that. so I gently but swiftly opened the door and forced my eyes into his with probably the most 'i'm not fucking around right now' look I'd ever given him. which is shocking with all of the arguments we've gotten into.

"Asher just fucking stop! I wasn't anywhere, I was literally sitting on the bench waiting for katie to pick me up! why is that so hard for you to comprehend." I pull my face away from his and before I could close the door and continue getting ready I whisper under my breath "its like you want me to cheat on you." the door was about to latch onto the door frame when his pale and veiny hand gripped onto the wooden edge. "what the fuck did you just say?" shit.

he then swung the door open with a force I've never seen before and a wave of fear flushed through my head. there were already tears welling up in my eyes from the yelling and now this just made them fall down my face. inside I was screaming incoherently at his face, slamming the door on his fingers and bashing his head around the room.

this has happened too many times. where we argue and I end up bruised or crying and I have to walk to Natalie's place and cry even more but into her arms instead. there's been too many times where Asher gets away with shit that no other man could get away with. and too many fucking times have I stayed.

his hand was peeled away from the edge of the door and I swear there was hot lava falling out from his eyes instead of guilt tripping tears. "why do you do this to me y/n? it hurts." he dramatically let his hand fall into his palms as more tears fell from his clearly angered eyes. most times I would let myself feel guilty and sorry for him as if I was the one that did the hurting. but this time I was done. nothing was officially over but the moment definitely was. he's going to have to find a way to win my attention back this time.

i tightened my pony tail and grabbed my cheer bag before walking out of our apartment, slamming the door behind me. it was so early in the morning that the sun was only rising as I walked out the door. I'm almost positive that everyone else on the team was asleep so I had to walk to practice. I was only a couple steps into my long walk when a car pulled up in front of me. well not in front but beside me. I continued walking until a window was rolled down and I heard a familiar voice call out.

"yo are you good?"

i was not. I had tears streaming down my face and I probably looked like I was just thrown in a pit of piranhas, but I cant say that.

"huh?" I turn my head to the side to see a white BMW pulled over. the voice I had heard earlier had a very memorable accent in it. Nika Muhl. 5'10 point guard. pretty hair. pretty eyes. just pretty.

"are you okay?" another voice reached out from the drivers seat of the car. Paige Bueckers of course. I finally looked down from my own height and saw a the brunette looking up at me with kinda eyes. her head was slightly tilted to the side while she waited for me to answer her question. "oh. uh." I waited a moment.

just before this I was telling myself that I wasn't going to put up with asher's bullshit anymore. that included hiding what was going on. Asher put me through shit. I mean he curb stomped my head on a pile of shit and dragged my face through it with his bare hands and never felt any regret.

"n-no not really." yeah I did that. fuck you Asher. the feeling of just admitting that I wasn't made the rest of my tears started to drain back into my eye sockets. I could see it in Nika's eyes that she felt bad even if she was smiling and laughing. she popped open the car door and tapped her lap. "well c'mon." she swayed her head, gesturing for me to literally crawl over her lap and get into the backseat, as there isn't a back door. I didn't want to be rude so I sighed and crawling over Nika's lap and into the backseat. I was hovering over her long enough to smell the beachy sunscreen smelling perfume she had on. her hands grazed my thigh that was exposed after my skirt had started to hang down from my position. thank God the cheer uniforms had shorts under the skirts because when I was almost in the back seat next to Ice Brady and KK Arnold, my skirt lifted up right in Nika's face. I almost fell face first into the backseat before I felt Nika's hands grip onto my waist to support me until I was sitting down. I let out a sharp and quick sigh while fixing my hair and and un-ruffling my skirt, I looked into the driver seat to see Paige holding back tears of laughter. I could practically see how red Nika was from the back of the head rest she had her hair pressed against.

i didn't expect the car ride to be as comforting as it was. the entire drive was basically just the girls either singing or asking me questions about cheer. it was all fine before Nika decided to speak up about why I was sobbing on the sidewalk.

"so what was going on with you earlier? before we very obviously saved your ass." I couldn't help but laugh at her remark but quickly got more serious when Paige turned down the music so everyone could hear me. I felt like I was put on a stage with a microphone in a pretty pink dress waiting to win Miss America with everyone's eyes on me while they waited for me to answer.

"oh it was nothing just stuff about my boyfriend...." I tried to shake off the question even though a part of me wanted to scream how much I hated him. I trailed off and glanced to the side to find an unconvinced KK staring at me. KK is funny, I always see her jumping around after a win and shes always filled with energy.

I shrugged and threw my head back before actually giving in. "fine. he's like, really shitty honestly. I want to break up but I can't." the car was silent for a couple seconds while I patiently waited for someone to speak. "what way of shitty? like wants to break up constantly but wont or like- another way of shitty" Paige asked without making any eye contact.

another way for sure. every other way that you could think of Paige.

"guilt tripping manipulative way I guess?" I said, my voice slightly cracking. Nika clicked her tongue as she reached around her seat and looked back at you. "you know you don't have to stay. I know its hard to not stay but you aren't obligated to stay." thank you. that the only thing I was needing to hear in the past year I had been with Asher. I know I'm not obligated to stay with him but Jesus it feels like it. "thanks." the car ride was silent for a couple more minutes before Paige pulled into the driveway of my cheer practice building.

I was just about to get out of the car before realizing that ice was in front of the door I should've been getting out of. I had to crawl over Nika's lap again. I tossed my duffel bag into her lap and its like she could read my brain when she opened her door and gently set the bag out side. but this time she put down her car seat so that there was a (mainly) flat surface for me to crawl over. instead of crawling, I lifted my feet over Nika's body first and then slid myself over her. my ass gently bumps against her lap, almost sending a loud gasp from my lips. there her hands were again. I thought everything was going by quickly but she still had enough time to wrap her fingers around my waist and lifted me from the back seat out the door.

it was honestly hard for me to speak after having to be that close to a practical stranger in the span of 20 minutes but I tried my best.

"thank you guys for the ride. good luck on your game!" as I was waving goodbye while walking down the sidewalk towards the door of the building, Nika yelled out.

"y/n? I'll see you there right?"

oh my fuck she wants to see me at the game. she actually WANTS me to be there.

all I could manage to do without folding over and passing out of the concrete was throw a thumbs up from behind me and continue walking. the moment I stepped or slid out of that car, all the thoughts came back, rushing through my head. how the fuck was I supposed to focus on cheer when my relationship was on the brink of ending. I felt tears well up in my eyes just thinking about it. obviously I wanted things to end but its been a year and a couple months. I don't know how I was going to just break up and be fine. when I swung open the doors to my cheer studio I saw coach and couple other girls sitting down, tying their shoes and fixing each other's hair. coach waved at me once I got through the door. I made my way over to the other girls and gave them each a hug with a very fake warm smile plastered on my face.

"hiii, are you okay you look like you've been crying?" Taylor spoke in a soft, caring mom kind of tone. why is everybody so worried about if I was crying or not. its not that big of a deal just let me cry. I nodded aggressively "mhm. yeah I'm good." the two girls, Taylor and Caydence, looked at each other and they obviously could see through me. I held back even more tears when they shrugged their shoulder continued talking, I knew they didn't believe me but they didn't push an answer out of me like Nika and Paige.

a part of me has always been interested in basketball but the other part kept telling me that I was talented enough or masculine enough. Nika was always an inspiration to me even before I started cheering for UConn. sometimes after practice, as long as there is no performances and I'm not being held back by my coach, I like to go to the public gym and practice basketball by myself. every time I do, I always wish that there was someone there to practice with me. that is part of the reason I went on to cheer for UConn basketball.

i was still stretching when some more girls off the team walked through the door. makeup done, lashes curled ready to go. I still sat in the corner with a couple mascara streaks running down my face. sadly, there weren't any wipes anywhere in the studio so I had to sit with dried cracky mascara on my face instead of my lashes. I stood up after stretching and actually set my bag and water bottle down at some benches before going up to my best friend, Farah, and squeezing her tightly. she had just walked through the door holding a bag with her cheer supplies and another that had a bow tied around it. it wasn't too big but definitely noticeable. my eyes were immediately drawn to it but I waited for her to bring it up after we finished hugging.

"don't act like you aren't wondering what's in here." she shook the yellow back in front of me, letting me take it out of her hands. I scrimmaged through it and found a piece of paper in the bottom. it looked blank until I flipped it over.

mother fucking Farah.

"YOU GOT ME TICKETS TO OLIVIA RODRIGO? WHAT THE FUCK?" I squealed loud enough for the entire team and coach to hear. all eyes were on me but I didn't care. there was literally no reason for Farah to do this at all. shes just a really fucking nice person. she bent over, holding her stomach with laughter pouring out of her mouth. I felt all sorts of feelings rushing through me. confusion, happiness, more confusion, a little bit of sadness because there was only one ticket at the bottom of the bag.

that when everything died down. I realized that she only got one? no way.

"wait did you-" I began to question but Farah stopped me by shoving her finger over my lips.

"nope." she pulled out her hand from her bag and there were two other tickets. why two? why two. two. fuck.

"for Asher!" she held onto my wrists more excited than she was walking inside of the studio. that giddy smile on her face fell quickly. there is no way I'm bringing Asher with to a concert that he wouldn't even give a shit about. all he'd care about is getting in my pants afterwards because my feet will hurt too much to walk away and say no. I pulled myself towards Farah's ear and whispered softly "Asher cannot come with. I'm planning on breaking up with him."

Farah's eyes widened once I pulled my mouth away from her ear. all she did was nod and dropped my hands back to my side. we walked over to the bench and continued waiting for the rest of the team to show up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

practice went smooth. now its about to start. UConn and Iowa. fuck I'm nervous. I've been a UConn fan for years and this game is one of the things I've always wanted to see in person. they start introducing players while the cheer squad was doing our main routine to the rhythm of a random Taylor swift song. I think it's I knew you were trouble. ironic. the one thing I was not allowed myself to think of was Asher. if I wanted to think about him I would just trick myself into thinking about Nika. wait that came out wrong. anyways. I was just let down on the floor after doing a thigh stand and the team continued dancing until it was finally tip off. I scurried off the court with the rest of my team and sat to the side while a couple girls above me kept moving around with pom poms. we got the ball first and stayed in the lead for a while.

as much as I was pretending to focus on the shots all the players were making, I couldn't peel my eyes away from Nika. she was on Caitlin Clark's ass. not even letting her shoot a three pointer. shes doing so good. she had her hands surrounding the ball, barely letting Clark shoot at all. I admire her for her defensive skills. I believe her aggression really helps with that. shes passionate. she obviously wants to win but on court it looks like shes playing with her life on the line. but she does it with ease. the one thing I kept forgetting was that this could be her last college game. ever. no one knows where shell go after UConn. lots of people are saying overseas and I think that would be the death of me. I watched every move she made. not in a stalker way but in an invested in her game way. the way her hair swayed back and forth while she shuffled around Caitlin. the way she already had a couple balls of sweat falling off of her forehead. I would be lying to myself if I didn't think she looked really hot right now.

and I'm up again. Caydence was holding onto my hips before she tossed me in the air, I landed on her and angels palms before flipping off and landing feet flat on the floor. still holding a pretty fake smile on my lips. once it was someone else's turn to do a crazy flip, I took the chance and looked back at the bench, watching as Nika took multiple sips out of a Gatorade water bottle. her hand rested on Paige shoulder while she shot something that probably motivational and worded beautiful to Paige's ear.

the game was going smooth until the 4th quarter. I could feel my blood boiling while watching the timer tick lower and lower without our score going higher. this cant be happening. 3.9 seconds on the clock. I could practically feel the vibrations of every UConn fan tapping their feet waiting for someone to shoot a three pointer and give us the win. but no. a foul was called on Aaliyah. I don't think it was a foul but what do I know.

as much as I was desperate for us to win, I knew we wouldn't be taking home the win this time. 4.6 seconds. now Paige. what is it with these bullshit calls.

i never liked Iowa. in my opinion, Clark is good at basketball but can be conceited and over hyped. of course I didn't want anyone to come at me with that when Iowa "wins the natty" so i'll have to keep that in my head for now.

i started calming down, trying to accept the fact that there wasn't a point going on but they from the far side of the court I saw Caitlin Clark. the basketball player dubbed as the goat and a women's basketball savior, bounce a basketball off of her so called friend? fuck that shit. I almost stood up and sprinted across the court. me and Paige may not be close but I cant take shit like that. Farah rested her hand on my thigh, telling me to not do anything. because its "out of my control"

it could be in mine. just saying.

and just like that, number 20 gets the ball, throws it in the air, and declares the win for Iowa. I could physically feel my face getting hotter with each tear I saw fall from Nika's eyes. Iowa doesn't deserve this. they have everything. and UConn gave up everything. I couldn't stop myself from crying too. I shoved my face in my hands trying to dry the tears that were slowly ruining my eye makeup/ I feel fucking terrible. how could UConn give so much for this and barely get anything back. just the noise of all the Iowa fans cheering and laughing and the sight of them smiling made me sick. I wont even hide it. I was jealous. jealous that they had such dick riding refs.

who said that.

i wanted, so badly, to stand up and wrap my arms around Nika and Paige and Aaliyah and all the others to just give them some sort of recognition but we had to go. coach led us through the tunnel and that was it. I sat on a bench in our locker room, debating what to do.

and I figured out what to do. right then and there.

even with my hands on my forehead, crying and stressing, the inside of me was happy because I knew that someone wouldn't be feeling so bad on April 22nd.

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Game Informer reporter Wesley LeBlanc has mentioned that he will not be at the DA@SDCC stuff [source]

Saira: "i won’t lie, my very first council note for lucanis was “can’t wait to fuck puss in boots”" [source]

Jay: "And you killed it!" [on Alex Jordan's - one of the actors of Rook - post announcing his role in the game] [source]

Ashe: "say it with your chest HELL YEAH HE DOES" (context: Council members sharing that Lucanis' voice in-game does indeed sound like the actor's Spanish reel video) [source]

Erika Ishii might sneak into the actor panel at SDCC [source]

A user asked "when are the announcements of the different languages voices?" An EA Community Manager replied "We’re not ready to reveal everyone quite yet, but stay tuned!". [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, the ask-bioware channel is for questions folks may have for BioWare. they can't guarantee that all questions put there will be answered, but if you have one it's still worth popping it in there as the channel helps them "for future Q&A sessions and the like" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about pre-orders. An EA CM replied "Not yet announced!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about the release date. An EA CM replied "I wish I could. Gotta keep it under wraps until it's ready though!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

EA CM Violet: "always stirring in the bioware lighthouse. hard working team full of passion ❤️" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user said regarding the talent lineup for Rook's actors, "This entire lineup is INCREDIBLE." Corinne: "So glad you like it! 😊" [source]

Ghil Dirthalen shared that she thinks Bellara "rocks- so excited for people to meet her ❤️" [source]. She also mentioned that Bellara isn't really like Peebee from Mass Effect: Andromeda [source]

Ghil also shared non-DA voice clips of the companion actors that she thinks sound most like their voices as-used for the companions in DA:TV. This is the clip shared for Taash, although it's not super-close as Caitie had trouble finding a clip of this actor. "but their voice in DAV is a lot more dead pan? In a good way though- Taash is fun!" [source]

This is the clip shared for Emmrich. "this is closer to the Emmrich voice than the other clip ive seen floating about. I would say less cartoony than this performance, but with the same voice??" [source]

Malcolm on Emmrich: "you might have to buy him dinner or something first. He's a classy guy." [source]

Bryce: "someone on Tumblr who follows me for dragon age content called this the Veilbus and I'm-" [source]

John Epler is heading to SDCC [source]

John on the recent Game Informer video: "not shown - the piece of wood digging into my spine for 45 minutes as i filmed this. me after: 'yeah i had a piece of wood digging in between two of my vertebrae' them: 'why didn't you say something?' me: 'i was on a roll and i didn't want to lose it'" [source, two]

Trick: "I thought I knew who I was romancing in DAI until the first time I heard Sera giggle. I suggest pinballing wildly between whoever strikes your fancy as you learn more about the characters until the game comes out and then seeing who wins your heart!" [source]

User: "I was wondering about tavern songs in DAI. There’s a song for Samson, but not for Calpernia. I was wondering if there was an in-universe reason for that, or if it was due to real world limitations?" Trick: "I think the tavern songs were about what the lyricist found interesting, so they weren't a sign that Samson or Sera or Harding was more important than anyone else." [source]

[drvscarlett]

Sweet Nothings (3)

Carlos Sainz x Pageant Queen!Reader

Summary: All that they ever wanted was sweet nothings but everything changed like midnight rain.

Sweet Nothings 1 2 3 4

A/N: this the second to the last chapter. The last chapter would be in story format and a lil bit of smau. Let me know what you folks think about this one.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo

ChiliUpdates Media day duties for Carlos in Vegas today!

User5 Goodluck on Vegas,get that WDC carlos

User6 VAMOS CARLOSSSSS

User7 look at him being so smiley

User16 im so happy to see Carlos smiling so much, he deserves happiness.

ChiliUpdates posted a reel

//We are ready to extend our lead for the championship. I have a very good feeling that with my skills, car, and some luck then we might be able to surpass Max before we race in Abu Dhabi. I'm really excited to drive this weekend.//

liked by YNjpeg and 600,552 others

User6 Never imagined we will be fighting for the WDC this year

User7 Im gonna go and pray for a Ferrari 1-2

User8 Carlos is really a driven man, respect!

User10 Carlos are you getting excited to drive this weekend because someone is also here in vegas 👀

QueenYNUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by CarlosSainz55 and 2,982 others.

QueenYNUpdates Her gown for the prelims and the swimsuit competition

User7 DUDE THE GOWN!!!

User8 THE SLO MO TURN, MISS MAAM???

User65 ate and left no crumbs, all the other contestants can go home

YNjpeg posted a photo.

Liked by CarlosSainz55, McLaren, and 987,562 others

YNjpeg this is what we called the Ibong Adarna dress. It is inspired by a Filipino mythological bird that has the ability to enchant anyone who hears it sing. Furthermore, the Ibong Adarna is also a phoenix that regenerates and rises from the ashes. The dress is a symbol of resilience, rising and rebirth 🧡

Thank you for the team for making this amazing craftmanship.

User8 The lore behind her dress??? NO ONE CAN TOP HER ATTENTION TO DETAILS

User9 everyone should do it like her

User10 she is SERVINGGG,MY MISS UNIVERSE 2024

McLaren our 🧡👑

User5 admin so real for this one User6 anyone wanna bet with me that this is Lando's doing? User20 the fact that she is still the papaya queen for mclaren is like how carlos is still an unofficial family of mclaren

CarlosY/NUpdates posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates Carlos Sainz' face when someone showed him a photo of Y/N in her prelim gown.

User5 wtf,why did they have to show him that???

User1 right??? stop bringing her up. User3 Hi im the one that showed him that. I was watching miss universe while waiting for carlos to sign a cap. Carlos saw my screen and asked me if I could show him when Y/N is on the screen. He was in the middle of the interview when Y/N came up so I kind of screamed to show him. Im sorry if I made any trouble. User9 me reading this made me cry

User6 look at the man and tell me that he is not in love with her

User7 he never stopped loving her, thats my theory.

User8 Im gonna play Gracie Abrams all over again

User10 Carlos you might trick everyone but those eyes dont lie.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by YNjpeg and 3,234 others

ChiliUpdates Carlos Sainz wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix. He is now 4 points ahead of Max Verstappen and is currently P1 in the WDC.

User1 WOW CARLOS!! WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

User2 THE NEXT FERRARI CHAMPION IS CARLOS. IM CALLING IT.

User3 Look at the pure glee on his face when he won. He deserves this so much

User4 Thats our smooothhh operatorrrrrr

User10 MISS MAAM YNjpeg what are you doing lurking here???

User11 isnt the miss universe starting in a few minutes??? User17 Y/N never beating the they are not yet over each other allegations

CarlosY/NUpdates just posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates someone just saw Carlos outside the place for the Miss Universe!!!! They also reported Lando, Lewis, and Charles at the venue as well

User1 he is going to see Y/N! ITS HAPPENING!!!

User2 I love a supportive ex

User3 Y/N bringing out the whole grid to support her, its just so wholesome to think about

User7 They really went from racing suits to formal wear in an hour, Y/N's power over the grid User8 they really love her User9 especially Carlos. The man didn't celebrate and went to her right away User10 why did they ever break up?? they are so good with each other

User11 ugly crying

User12 I want a supportive ex boyfriend and a supportive friend group.

QueenY/NUpdates

liked by CarlosSainz55, LandoNorris, and 872,983 others

QueenY/NUpdates Take a look at the girl on fire! This is Y/N's evening gown, she is simply gorgeous in red!

User7 ugly crying, she is so beautiful

User55 WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE DRESS BEING IN RED???

User9 its literally screaming carlos sainz User10 Y/N and Carlos's color is definitely red

User8 SHE DESERVES THE CROWN, GIVE IT TO HER ALREADY!!

User12 and the explanation how she paid homage to her mother's hometown??? SHE IS OUR QUEEN

User13 i love how her dresses has a certain piece of history

User14 i dont usually watch pageants and I got curious because an ex wag is here but MYGOD SHE IS STUNNING!!

User22 send everyone home, Y/N is taking the crown

LandoNorris posted a story

YNjpeg replied: im so so grateful for your love and support LandoNorris replied: so proud of you!!! You deserve the best YNjpeg replied: stop making me cry LandoNorris replied: Carlos cried a lot when they started crowning you. LandoNorris replied: he has to share his universe to the universe lol

CarlosSainz55 just posted a photo.

CarlosSainz55 When I tell you that you are beautiful, I am not simply talking about your looks. I talk about your eyes that shows compassion, your heart that is so generous, and your voice that speaks for those who cannot speak for themselves.

I am extremely proud of you YNjpeg. Everything was worth it.

YNjpeg I'm always grateful for your support.

CarlosSainz55 always here for you.

CarlosSainz55 limited comments to this post.

[annisassintchaska]

AUDACITY: Toto Wolff x Wife!Black!Reader

TW: CURSING, YELLING

The hectic race here in Monza had finally come to an end and it is now time for the post-race interviews. One by one, the drivers were asked questions about what happened during their drive and what they think could've been done differently; however, a specific question a young driver had pissed off the wife the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team, Y/n Wolff as she march her way in front of the man, blocking the journalist's sight of him.

"Could you please repeat that question you asked?" Y/n asked to make sure she heard the man right. "I asked if he felt that since he hadn't been winning any races for Christian, if he thought that maybe his time here in Formula 1 is running out?" the man asked once again, this time with a bit of fear for what the shorter yet feisty woman had to say. "So, I wasn't hallucinating, I heard you correctly! Now let me educate you on something here since you seem to lack the knowledge! A driver's career doesn't just end because they've been constantly not making it to the podium, sure he hasn't been winning yet he did a damn good job at keeping himself in the top six and THAT should be praised considering the state of favouritism going on in his team. Next is to address the fact that yes, we all know that Christian Horner is an impatient man when it comes to certain things, however he would never be that foolish to let Sergio go and if he was, he would pay for it dearly at my hands as I would personally burn his headquarters and garages to ashes, not leaving a pinch of paper for him to start over from. Mark my words, as whatever it is that you call yourself, the post-race interviews are for questions about the race and shouldn't go to the extent of you putting doubts into any driver's mind. BE WARNED THAT THIS IS YOUR FIRST AND LAST WARNING AS YOU ARE WALKING ON THIN ICE SEEMING THAT I COULD'VE HAD YOUR CAREER ENDED ON THE SPOT. Now apologize!" She shouted in anger that someone who should've been able to be trusted to ask sensible questions was actually a complete idiot out for nothing but starting chaos.

"I'm very sorry Sergio, I didn't think my words would have been taken that seriously" said the man as he was on the verge of tears, out of fear that he almost lost his job due to a foolish question. "It's ok, no hard feelings. Just try not to make this mistake again or best believe she'll be back for you" Sergio said as he went over to hug the man, being in shock himself.

Toto had been doing an interview with his drivers, when George noticed what was about to happen and tapped Lewis on the shoulder. They both called for Toto's attention, where the trio along with their journalist, watched on as Y/n gave the visibly shaking man a piece of her mind. After that was done, the lady interviewing them decided to ask "So Toto, you've obviously seen what your wife had just done. What would your reaction be to her for this?" the journalist smiled as she awaited an answer from Toto who as himself looks genuinely scared. "My question is What the fuck do you all want me to do?! I'm not getting involve in that! The last time you all had me interfere, I was unable to sleep on my pillows for a month!" He replied in a panicked tone as Lewis and George were the only two who knew what his "pillows" meant. "Dude, you've got to be kidding me. You still call her breasts pillows? How comfortable could they be?" George asked in amusement that his boss was still obsessed with his wife's boobs. "Trust me Russ, they are very comfy, I've also added and new pair. The ass" Toto said making everyone, including the journalist laugh. "Alright, so I see you're unable to help the guy out, that's all the questions I have for you three. Have a nice rest of your day" the woman said as they replied, "Same to you."

Unbeknownst to them the cameras had still been filming LIVE and they manged to capture the response which sent the world into a spiral at the fact that such a giant of man's weakness was being able to sleep on his wife as it now became the biggest thing to tease him of whenever he did something he wasn't supposed to.

[dira333]

Bakugo x Reader, 6 parts, Timeskip AU

Not everyone is born with a Soulmark. But even if you are, it doesn't make things easier.

Warnings: None, Angst to Fluff.

Chapters are going to be posted daily.

Part 1

Deku’s Soulmark is on his shoulder, barely noticeable in the mess of freckles. He’s got it just shortly after Katsuki, of course because Katsuki always gets things first. Like his teeth, or his Quirk. Katsuki thinks his Soulmark is a lot cooler, something like a tribal pattern, but it looks even better. The only annoying thing about it is the placement. It’s a fat, blueish-black mass on his left ass cheek and his mother has told him not to show it around.

Not that he would. He only showed it to Deku to prove that he got his mark first. 

-

The dream is always the same.

Flakes of Ash are flowing through the air like snowflakes. Upturned tables and chairs make it hard to navigate the room, but he’s on it, moving through the Chaos.

Katsuki spots a leg first, lifts the desk you must have tried to hide under.

Your face is covered in soot, your features barely recognizable. He sinks to his knees at your side, cradles your head in his hands.

“Wake up,” he begs you, his heart hammering in his throat. “Wake up.”

You never open your eyes. Instead, he’s the one who wakes up, stares at the ceiling above him, and curses. 

It’s known to happen. Just another symptom of his bond. The longer it takes you to find your Soulmate, the more of this you get to experience. And it’s not like he’s not looking. But it’s a different kind of looking, now that he’s the Number 2 Hero in Japan.

Katsuki hits his pillow a few times, settles again. If he falls asleep now, he can get another hour of much-needed rest. 

But rest won’t come.

Instead, he thinks about Deku, who’s already found his Soulmate. Just another win over him. Though, he doubts Deku’s counting them like he is.

When he closes his eyes, your face is the only thing he sees. So still, covered in dirt. If only he could brush away the dirt, maybe he’d be able to find you.

If only he could dream a little longer.

-

“Soulmate Mark finally spotted? Read more about Dynamight Secret.” Katsuki snorts as he clicks on the link. As usual, it’s nothing but speculation and a blurry photograph of him. This time, they claim a new bruise on his biceps as a possible Soulmark. If only they knew. Hah!

His mother had been right, all these years ago, to tell him to keep it covered.

Not that he’d have been running around, presenting his buttocks to strangers, otherwise. But he’s seen the crazy. Still remembers all those fake Soulmarks, the exasperation in Shoto’s voice when he’d been the first - and worst - victim to fall to it. 

He’s not going to let that happen to him. He’ll find you. But on his own terms.

-

“Hey, Man, you’re up?” Kirishima knocks on his door. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Let me do it,” he insists, stepping out of his room. “I want it to be edible.”

Kirishima grins. “You could just admit that you’re going to miss me.”

“As if,” Katsuki grunts, pushing him out of the way. Kirishima laughs, the sound familiar and warm. Yes. Katsuki is going to miss him.

But he has no time for that now. The weather is nice today, granting them a blue sky and no clouds. Katsuki’s sweating his ass off, leaving handprints on cardboard box after cardboard box. Mina’s running circles around them, Kaminari as usual not lifting a finger. He claims he’s responsible for the music, the food delivery, or the navigation, never mind the fact that Kirishima could drive to Mina’s place blindfolded by now. 

And then they’re done, crashing on Kirishima’s dark red Couch that eerily fits into Mina’s vibrantly colored living room. Kaminari’s handing out beer from the fridge, phone awkwardly tucked between shoulder and ear as he talks to his girlfriend.

She’s nice, Katsuki knows. A little uptight at first, but with a good head on her shoulders. Able to deal with the crazy Kaminari’s dishing out. Speaking of crazy. “I want to crawl into your skin and wear it,” Kaminari sings into the phone at this moment, grinning like a madman. 

Katsuki rips the beer from his hand. “Please don’t,” he grunts, listening to Mina and Kirishima laughing.

He’s the only single guy among his friends. 

It’s a thought that seldomly plagues him but when it does, it does.

His phone rings and he considers not picking up, seeing the unknown number. But he’s hung up a few flyers about looking for a roommate so he accepts the call anyway, getting up to talk in the tiny bathroom to get some privacy.

“Bakugo?” 

“Ah, yes, hi.” The voice is distinctively female, soft enough to send a shiver down his back. Or maybe he’s just lonely.

“Hi.” God, is he trying to sound nice?

“Hi.” There’s a rushed giggle, then a deep breath. “I saw your ad. For the apartment. I- I work for Manic!Design.”

His parent's firm. He’d asked his father to hang it up, to not make a big fuss about it. No one in the agency had looked twice at the little hangout after all.

“When are you free?” He asks, rubbing his pointer finger over a stain on the mirror. “To look at the apartment?”

“I’m free today. Next week is a little tight, but I can push some things around? Maybe on Tuesday?”

“We can do it today. My roommate moved out today so it’s a little messy still, but that way you can see it right away.”

“Oh, yes, okay.” He can hear the hesitation in your voice, can feel the unease in his own heart.

“Or Tuesday, if that works better for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you… does half an hour work for you?”

He calculates quickly. If he leaves right now, he will make it on time.

“Yeah, no problem.”

-

He regrets not showering. 

His shirt sticks to his body in awkward places and he can see the imprint of his right hand on his pants. His right hand. Katsuki lifts it, like he often does, to inspect it. Despite having lived with an intact limb far longer than he had to live with a messed up one, he still can’t help but marvel at it, and feel unease at the change. Does it sweat more now than it used to before the war? Why is that scar still there but the other one isn’t?

“Hey!” Your face pulls him out of his reverie and he lets his hand sink to muster you.

You look familiar in a way that has his heart speed up uncomfortably, his skin prickling. He really should have showered beforehand, pushed that meeting a little further back. 

“I like your shirt,” you point out, your own hands pushed into the pockets of your jacket. Oversized, black leather. He likes it immediately. It looks like one he owns too. 

“Thanks,” he rumbles, opening the door for you. “Come in.”

-

“Just so you know.” You lift your left leg to rub your feet over your right knuckle, a nervous habit if he’s ever seen one. “I work for your parents.”

“Figured.”

Your eyes flicker up to his and back down again. “I don’t… I don’t want them to think weird of me. I mean, they haven’t really noticed me, yet. But they will, for sure. I just-”

“Spit it out.”

You grin, a sharp, yet sweet thing that has him hold his breath.

“I don’t want them to know we live together.” You say it like it’s already a done deal. Like you’ve already moved in when he’s not yet decided if he wants you on the lease or not. He likes that. You’re decisive.

“They wouldn’t.”

“Oh?” You cock your head to the side and his tongue turns dry at the sight. “Don’t they visit?”

“Not really. I want- I want my privacy. I usually go over to their place if I want to see them.”

“Okay.” You nod. “I’d take it then. If you’re okay with it.”

He offers you his hand to shake, not quite thinking about what he’s doing until you shake it. His palm is slick with sweat and he cringes at the feeling but your face does not show what you think. His bones, mended back together yet not really, feel like pudding in your grip. 

What is going on?

- x -

You’ve perfected your morning routine.

You snooze your alarm once for a blissful ten minutes of more sleep before you roll out of bed, check the weather with a toothbrush in your mouth, and choose what to wear. That’s always the hardest and best part of each day.

A heavy knock on your door alerts you. “Bathroom’s free.” 

Yeah, that’s the first change in your morning routine.

Bakugo’s done most of the heavy lifting yesterday, making the heaviest of your boxes look like they weigh nothing. 

Toothbrush still in your mouth you grab your clothes for the day and rush through the hallway. It’s not that you don’t want him to see you right now, messy hair and crinkled pajamas, but you don’t really want him to see you right now.

Not when he’s probably looking like a young God, blond hair the perfect amount of messy, blood-red eyes never missing a thing. He’s way too good-looking to be your roommate, but you don’t doubt he’s looking for anything more. Not with you, at least. He’s a Hero, after all. Number 2 if you’re not mistaken. And your bosses son.

You wipe the mascara from under your eye and open the bathroom door. If you leave in five minutes you’ve got just enough time to catch the bus. That’s a record.

“Here,” a plate with Omurice appears under your nose. “Breakfast.”

“Oh,” you blink. “I don’t… I don’t eat breakfast.”

“Hah?” Bakugo looks like you’ve personally offended him. “Who doesn’t eat breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“I don’t have time for that. I’m just getting a coffee to go for the bus ride.”

“I’ll take you then.”

“What? No. My bus is coming in five minutes.”

“Sit.” Bakugo pulls out a chair with his other hand. “Eat. I’ll take you. It’s on my way anyway.”

“What about your parents finding out I’m living with you?”

Something like a blush works its way up his neck. Or he’s getting angry. Who knows?

“I’ll let you out at the corner.”

“Still-”

“Eat.” He thunders and you take a seat, eyeing him. “What if I’m allergic to Omurice?”

“Who’s allergic to Omurice? It’s Omurice.”

“There’s egg in it.”

He groans. “What do you want to eat then?”

“Omurice is fine.” You pull the plate toward you, digging in. It tastes heavenly and you bite back a groan of delight. Who knew you were this hungry?

-

“Hey, I’m going to the store.” You push your head through the door, trying not to look too closely at where he’s currently doing push-ups. “Do you need anything?”

“What?!” Katsuki drops, rolls, and glares at you. “It’s ten pm.”

“Yeah, so? The store is still open.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“I’m grown up, I can walk by myself.”

“Not this late.”

“Okay, Dad.” You roll your eyes. “I’m fine. Do you want something from the store or not?”

“I’m coming along.”

A heartbeat long you’re left speechless, watching him as he gets up and slips a shirt on. But then, your fight awakens.

“Not if I’m already gone,” you rush out, slamming the door shut behind you.

You’re out of the apartment before him, heart hammering in your chest as you race down the stairs. You forgot your shoes in the apartment, but it’s a little too late now to turn back around, especially when you can hear the door closing, Bakugo calling your name through the staircase.

Is it childish to run away from him like that? Yeah. But it’s also incredibly fun.

He catches up to you halfway down the street, a murderous look on his face. 

“What the fuck?!” He yells, trying to grab your arm. The illusion vanishes in front of him and you cackle, just a few steps ahead, hiding behind a sign for Thai Massages.

He’s at your side in a heartbeat, but he does not grab you this time.

“I can look after myself,” you tell him, still trying to catch your breath. “I’m not your kid.”

“No,” he starts, teeth grit, but he doesn’t end the sentence. If there was ever a sentence to begin with.

“Now that you’re already out and about, you can tag along, I suppose,” you offer, leading the way. “But if you need to accompany me at all times things are going to get real awkward real son. I like to go dancing sometimes too, you know. Or Karaoke. Do you do Karaoke?”

“Yes,” he grumbles. “Who doesn’t?”

“What’s your go-to song?” 

He grumbles something. 

“Sorry, didn’t hear you there.”

“The Allmight theme song,” he repeats, a little louder this time.

“Catchy, Good choice.” You nod.

-

Snooze your alarm, brush your teeth, pick your outfit, race to the bathroom.

Today’s breakfast is Miso Soup, rice, and grilled fish, the table already set for two. You take a deep breath, steel yourself for the conversation ahead.

“You need to stop this.” You say, both feet planted on the ground. “You can’t cook for me every morning.”

“I cook anyway,” Katsuki’s not looking at you, glaring holes into the coffee maker instead. “It’s not much work.”

“Still. It disrupts my routine, I’m sure it disrupts yours as well-”

“It is my routine.” He disagrees and your mouth falls open.

“You always cook for your roommate?”

“Yeah!” You don’t imagine the blush that’s now rising up and up, lighting up his cheeks. “What about it?”

“Did she break up with you?”

“What the hell?!” He bursts out. “No one broke up with me! Kirishima moved in with his Soulmate.”

“Ah. So…”

“Nothing. Sit down and eat.” 

“Only if you promise to stop cooking for me. And following me around.”

“I needed to protect you.”

“You don’t need to do shit for me.”

His head swivels around at the swear word. “Surprised?” You grit out. “I’m a grown-ass woman, I can take care of myself. If I’d wanted a boyfriend, I would have gotten that.”

“I’m not your boyfriend.” He disagrees hotly.

“You act like it, though.”

Silence falls. “Fine,” he eventually huffs. “Sit down, we can talk about it.”

You send him one last glare before you slide onto the chair.

“You need to stop-”

“Breakfast or dinner.” Katsukis's voice is harsh, cutting through your sentence. “You can pick. Either or, I’m cooking for two.”

“I don’t know when I’m home.”

“Breakfast it is then.”

“No, wait-”

“Breakfast or Dinner. You decide.”

“What about neither?”

“Breakfast or Dinner.” He stabs his chopsticks into the grilled fish like it personally hurt him. “Make it quick.”

“Sheesh,” you grunt. “Fine. But if I pick breakfast you have to take me to work or I won’t make it in time.”

He nods. “I take you to work in the morning and don’t follow you in the evenings.”

“Wow. Such a huge sacrifice on your part.”

“Oh, because it’s so hard to play passenger princess?”

“Maybe it is!” You bite back. His brows furrow. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it hard to be a passenger princess?”

You snort. “It’s not that hard,” you admit. “I mean, sure, I can listen to my own music on the bus, but-”

“Send me your playlist then,” he orders. “And eat. We’re going to be late.”

“Sheesh, I’m eating, I’m eating.”

-

You’re home alone that evening. Katsuki didn’t leave a message when he’s going to be back, so you’re not sure what to do with yourself, sending out a tentative invite to some of your friends. Nothing much, just if they want to check out your new apartment…

A key turns in the door and you fumble your phone, trying to delete the text. You’re not ready for them to meet your new roommate just yet.

“Oh-” That’s not Katsuki in the door though. Broad shoulders, wide smile, bright red hair. “Are you the new roommate?”

“Ye-Yes, yes. I’m… are you?”

“Kirishima.” He offers his hand. “I think I left something behind. At least I can’t find it anywhere. Did you possibly see…” He blushes a pretty shade of pink. “Pink boxers? They’re my lucky ones.”

“I’ll go check if you-”

“No, no, I’ll do it myself. Bakugo is pretty intense about the laundry.”

“That too?” You ask. He halts in the doorway. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he… he insists on making breakfast.”

“Ah,” Kirishima smiles. “Yeah. He’s not… He’s not good with words. He likes to show he cares through actions, you know. If I can give you any advice, look at his actions and not at his words. That will always steer you right.”

“Th-Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

[bobfloydsbabe]

ash and smoke | aegon ii targaryen x oc | chapter one

SUMMARY: Lady Elowen Blackwood is a traitor by association. Brought to King’s Landing as a potential bride for Prince Aemond, the death of King Viserys I pushed that plan aside. The family has more pressing matters to focus on and a potential wedding is the last thing on their minds. Then House Blackwood declares loyalty to Rhaenyra, making Lady Elowen’s position at court precarious. Capturing the new king’s attention, and then standing up to him, only makes matters worse. Now, her life hangs in the balance and she only has herself to blame.

WARNINGS: forbidden love, aegon secretly likes being bullied, aegon is not a rapist. strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

MASTERLIST (coming soon)

SPECIAL THANKS to @blue-aconite and @mothdruid for letting me rant about this fic and wanting to talk HOTD and GOT with me. I appreciate you. This fic wouldn't exist without your encouragement and expertise.

CROSS POSTED ON AO3 | IN CHAPTER DIVIDERS BY @strangergraphics

Elowen moves through the halls of the Red Keep as silently as she can. Once the servants would stop and bow as she passed, smile at her even, but now they avert their gazes and whisper to each other when they think she’s out of earshot.

Brought to King’s Landing as a potential bride for Prince Aemond, the death of King Viserys I pushed that plan aside. The family has more pressing matters to focus on and a potential wedding is the last thing on their minds at present. Then her family declared their loyalty to Rhaenyra, and while the Targaryens more or less ignore her now, she knows her position at court is precarious.

She is the daughter and sister of traitors, now effectively a prisoner at the Red Keep. She’s under constant supervision by guards and maids loyal to the new king and his household. She doesn’t blame them. Not really. She’s a traitor to the crown by association, even if she hasn’t spoken to or seen any of them in months. Ravens don’t bring letters to her anymore and replies to her own stopped coming weeks ago.

So, she moves through the halls as silently as possible, hoping to go unnoticed by her captors. Praying that everyone’s forgotten she was supposed to marry Aemond, though he’s shown no interest in her or the match. She’s not interested either, but it’s an honor to be considered and if the Dowager Queen finds her acceptable, she will do her duty.

Only the sound of her shoes echoing across the stone floor fills the corridor. They let her stay in the same apartments as before the old king’s death, in the same wing as the royal family, but as far from them as possible. Keep your enemies close, as they say.

As she’s passing the Dowager Queen’s apartments, a heavy door opens up ahead. A kingsguard exits first, followed by the king himself. His silver white hair stands out against the dark stonework of the Keep’s inner walls. Even from a distance, she can see dark circles under his eyes.

The king’s exploits and proclivities are an open secret. Everyone knows he has at least half a dozen bastards roaming the city. The guardsman lets the king walk first, but follows close behind him. Elowen steps aside, hoping she blends in with the wall enough to avoid being seen. Her eyes remain trained on the ground, but curiosity wins out and she steals a glance at the new king.

Except he’s already looking at her. His steely blue eyes, so pale they appear almost lilac, hold her gaze as he strides down the hall, sucking all the air from her lungs. As he’s about to pass, she drops into a low curtsy in a show of respect, but his footsteps come to a halt. The clattering of armor tells her the guardsman didn’t expect to stop.

With her eyes on the ground, she can only see his boots as he turns toward her and takes a step forward. “Rise,” he says, voice deeper and more commanding than expected.

She stands, squaring her shoulders, and meets his intense eyes with as much strength as she can muster. “Your Grace.”

His eyes narrow, assessing her. She fights every instinct in her body not to look away, and when he steps closer, she catches a whiff of wine coming off him.

“What is your name?”

Her mouth drops open slightly. She’s not dumb enough to think he would remember her name, but he doesn’t even seem to recognize her. Though, if she’s being fair, on the occasions she’s dined with him and his family, he’s usually too far gone to pay attention to anything other than his next drink.

“Lady Elowen Blackwood, Your Grace.”

His full mouth curves up into a wicked grin. “Ah, the traitor,” he says, clicking his tongue. He waves his finger in her direction as the pieces fall into place.

“My family has indeed sided with Rhaenyra, Your Grace.”

“And you, Lady Elowen? Who have you sided with?”

The clench in his jaw tells her the question has a right answer, and giving the wrong one will not end well for her. She takes him in with his choppy silver hair that needs a comb through and the wrinkled doublet. Underneath the unkempt appearance is a handsome young man who’s been thrust into a situation beyond him.

He quirks a brow, waiting for her reply. She offers her most sincere smile. “I am loyal to you, Your Grace.”

His grin widens, turning wolfish, and his eyes take on a boyish gleam. “Good,” he mutters and takes another step closer, invading her space. The smell of wine is stronger now that he’s right in front of her.

He leans down close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She doesn’t flinch, but the tension grows and she senses the guardsman watching her. Her maid is watching too. This act of impropriety will get back to the Dowager Queen and the Lord Hand, of that she has little doubt.

“Good,” he whispers again. “Because traitors lose their heads. Even ones as pretty as you.”

He backs away with a self-satisfied smirk and the air comes rushing back into her lungs. Her heart pounds in her chest as she watches him walk away.

If her position at court was precarious before, it is certainly perilous now.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His mother, the Dowager Queen, stands at the foot of his bed, a furious look in her eyes. He doesn’t know the hour, doesn’t even care if he’s honest, but he sits up regardless.

“Well, I was sleeping, Mother.”

“No, with that Blackwood girl.”

Groaning, he falls back against the pillows and sheets. “Nothing, Mother.” Truthfully, he should have known his run-in with the lady would get back to his mother, but irritation still courses through him. Nothing is private in this godforsaken cage he calls home.

“You were seen talking to her, Aegon.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he rolls onto his stomach and reaches for the wine cup on his side table. It’s warm, going down like molten iron, but it helps with the grating sound of his mother’s voice.

“Aegon, do you hear me?” She asks, voice tainted with an edge of annoyance. “She is the enemy. The Blackwoods sided with Rhaenyra, and they are as loyal as they are stubborn.”

He hums, though it sounds more like a groan, so she knows he’s listening even if it’s only with one ear.

Her footsteps echo across the floor, and then there’s a chill on his bare ass. He peers over his shoulder, finding his mother standing with his bed linen in her hands. If this was the first time it happened, he might have felt embarrassed, but since it’s happened before, he doesn’t.

“This is serious, Aegon,” his mother insists, dropping the sheet on the ground. “That girl may well be our way to secure support from the Blackwoods.”

“Didn’t you just say they are as loyal and they are stubborn?” He saw the stubbornness in her eyes when they spoke, the way she never stopped looking at him. Respectful, intimidated, but not scared of him. It made her hard to forget.

“Your brother is taking tea with her today, so we can determine if they are suited.”

That gets his attention. “Aemond is taking tea with her?” He flips onto his back again, still not bothered by his mother seeing him like this. She gave birth to him, after all.

The question earns him an eye roll from Alicent, who turns and walks toward the large windowpanes at the far end of his apartments. The light is colder in his father’s old bedchamber, and the model of Old Valyria stands like a constant reminder of what he’s not.

“We brought her here to wed Aemond,” she says, massaging her temples. “He doesn’t care.”

Not surprising, Aegon thinks to himself. Aemond cares about Vhagar, sword fighting, and the dusty old history books from the library. He’s never been interested in girls. Or boys. Or anyone.

“I thought he was betrothed to one of the Baratheon girls.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he reaches for his clothes on the floor. If his mother’s attire is anything to go by, the day has already begun.

“The Blackwoods don’t need to know that and neither does Lady Elowen,” his mother explains and adjusts her headdress. “She may not be at fault, but she is still the enemy.”

As she leaves, Aegon’s stomach churns, thinking about the lies everyone’s telling her. The things they’re keeping from her. She’s a pawn, and Aegon doesn’t believe for a second she doesn’t know that, but she does not know exactly what her pawn role entails.

“And don’t be late for the small council meeting,” Alicent calls over her shoulder as the doors close behind her.

This was her own personal torture. Aemond was nice enough, but holding a conversation with him was akin to pulling one’s own teeth out. Painful.

“I’ve always wanted to see a dragon up close,” she says, hoping the topic will make him come alive. It doesn’t. He’s as stony-faced as ever and barely looks at her.

“Vhagar doesn’t like people.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “It wouldn’t have to be Vhagar,” she counters, keeping her tone as even as she can. “Just a dragon. They’re fascinating creatures.”

He cocks his head to the side, prominent jaw jutting out as his eye scans her face. His mouth opens, but before any words come out, the clanging of armor draws his attention to something over her shoulder.

“Brother!”

Elowen’s blood runs cold. She knows that voice. It’s the one she hasn’t been able to rid from her mind for the past day and night since she heard it whispered in her ear.

Aemond doesn’t move except to place a hand on the dagger at his waist. By the looks of it, he’s not pleased by the king’s presence either. Unlike him, Elowen doesn’t have a choice, so she stands and turns around to face the king, dropping into a curtsy. “Your Grace.”

Straightening her back once more, she meets his eyes. She’s faced off plenty of Brackens at her home in the Riverlands, most with far scarier dispositions than the person in front of her. A Targaryen king is still just a man.

“Lady Elowen.”

Behind her, Aemond finally rises. “Brother.” Aegon doesn’t pick up on the strain in his voice, but Elowen does. Something’s amiss.

“Taking tea with the lady? How sweet. Did she get on her knees for you yet? I bet that pretty mouth can—”

“That’s quite enough, Your Grace.” Elowen may not like Aemond, but she can’t stand for this, even from the most powerful man in the realm. Her moral code does not care that he could have her executed just because he feels like it. Traitor by association or not, she doesn’t like bullies.

Silence falls over the garden. No one moves. The taunting smile fades from Aegon’s face as he watches her, but Elowen doesn’t waver.

Aegon steps forward and, when his guards move to follow, he holds a hand up, halting them. He saunters up to her, not as tall as he’s trying to make himself seem. Their eyes never stray from each other. “You dare interrupt your king?”

There’s a challenge in the words. A wild, unnerving gleam in his eyes, and something else she’s not quite able to place.

“Only when he’s being a royal ass, Your Grace.” The words are so low that only she and Aegon can hear, possibly Aemond if he’s close enough. She can’t tell. All she sees is Aegon.

“My brother knows I jest.”

“Perhaps,” she says, stepping closer so their chests almost touch. His gaze narrows, but he doesn’t flinch. “But you also spoke vile things of me and that I will not tolerate.”

Stepping back, she dips into a shallow curtsy. “Your Grace.” She turns back to Aemond, who has the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Excuse me, my prince.”

Elowen picks up her skirts and leaves the garden, her maid following close behind. The realization of what she’s done dawns on her, gut-wrenching terror churning in her stomach like the bitter brew the Raventree maester made her drink when she was ill as a child. She passes the Lord Hand, Ser Otto Hightower, on the way back to her apartments, but she doesn’t stop. Not like she normally would. She’s made a fool of herself, and would much rather swallow her shame in private than in front of the prying eyes of the second most powerful man at court.

She throws the doors to her apartments open and goes straight to her dressing table. “Give the Queen Dowager my regrets that I cannot dine with her this evening. I am unwell,” she tells her maid, who watches her in the looking glass.

“Of course, my lady. Would you like a tray brought up?”

“Yes, thank you.” She dismisses the girl for the afternoon, and as the heavy doors close once more, Elowen drops her head in her hands. She silently curses her pride and sharp tongue. There is little doubt in her mind that the king will take her insolence as a personal slight.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there without moving, but eventually, she gets up. She works on her embroidery for a spell and pens yet another letter to Raventree she knows will go unanswered, as they have for weeks. She contemplates going for a ride, but knows she can’t when she’s feigning illness.

Elowen is not usually one for foul language, but when her maid returns in the early evening with a tray and a summons from the king, she mutters a curse.

“Tell the king I am unwell,” she instructs the maid, popping a piece of sliced mushroom into her mouth. As she chews, the girl looks unsure. Nervous even.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she begins, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s not a request and His Grace said you are not to refuse. Ser Arryk waits outside to escort you.”

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath, the second curse to pass her lips in as many minutes. If the maid heard, it does not show on her face.

Elowen smooths out her skirts, pushes her shoulders back, and takes a deep breath.

“Very well, then.”

likes are nice, reblogs and comments are golden

[justmystyles]

Family Portrait

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: Harry has a couple of heartfelt surprises for you while you're visiting him on tour.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: this is what happens when @allthelovehes and i are left unsupervised. i say 'that should be a fic' about pretty much anything, and she enables me. it's is pure, unadulterated cheesy stupid fluff. read at your own risk. it's also another excuse to post that annoyingly sexy sunglasses gif.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You stood in the empty stadium, marveling at the size of the space that would soon be packed to the gills with people there to see your boyfriend. No matter how many times you visited Harry on tour, you would never get used to the amount of people who shared your love for the wonderful man that you get to call yours. 

You were pulled from your thoughts by a light squeak, followed by the feel of something tapping your foot. You look down with a smile to see your dog, Polly, staring up at you panting with her signature smile, her eyes flitting back and forth between you and her pink ball, as her tail wagged uncontrollably. 

The two of you had been inseparable since the day you adopted her four years ago. When you started dating Harry, you made sure he knew that the two of you were a package deal. Luckily, he was happy to accept that and fell in love with the little chiweenie himself, quickly becoming her doggie dad, and insisting that she join you when you visit him on tour. 

“Alright one more, then we’ve gotta go find your dad.” You picked up the ball, throwing it across what would, in a couple of hours, be the pit. After every soundcheck, while Harry reviewed notes with the band and technical staff, you and Polly would play fetch in the venue, getting her good and tuckered out so that she would sleep soundly backstage during the show, allowing you to go out and watch Harry perform. 

This time, when Polly returned, you tapped your thigh lightly and walked toward the backstage area. She trotted along beside you, proudly carrying her ball. As you walked the halls, everyone would stop to greet Polly, who would immediately drop to her back, demanding belly rubs. She had become the unofficial tour mascot winning the hearts of everyone on the crew. 

When you reached Harry’s dressing room, you knocked softly on the door waiting for him to respond. When he called for you to come in, you opened the door and Polly bounded over the threshold and moving straight to the couch where Harry was sitting, she jumped up on top of him, frantically licking his face. He chuckled at the display, allowing her a few kisses before pulling her away and flipping her so he could rub her belly. 

“I wish your mother would get that excited to see me.” He said, making eye contact with you as you entered the room. 

You stick out your tongue and throw your middle finger in his direction. When you hear a clicking sound, you look to your left and see Lloyd taking pictures of the interaction. “Oh sorry, did I interrupt?” You asked, leaning down to give Harry a kiss, Polly jumping between the two of you to prevent being left out. 

“No, you’re good. I have a surprise for you actually, and I asked Lloyd to document it.” He said as you took a seat beside him. He lifted Polly off of him and handed her to you before standing up and retrieving a bag from the other side of the room. You crane your neck, trying to look into the bag. “Uh, uh, uh,” Harry chided. “Patience, my love.” 

He places the bag on a nearby coffee table, and reaches in pulling out a black track jacket holding it up on display. You immediately notice the Love on Tour logo on one side, and your name monogrammed on the other. “You got me a tour jacket?” Your eyes went wide. 

“I know you’ve been wanting one.” He was right, you’d been jealous of the jackets since he’d shown you the original mock ups. But you didn’t want to ask for one, since you didn’t actually work on the tour. “Plus, now you can stop stealing mine.” 

You shoved him gently as you approached him, taking the jacket in your hands before wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. “You like when I wear your jackets.”

“That I do,” he hummed, kissing you once more before pulling away. “Wait, I have more.”

Your brow furrows as you watch him reach back into the bag, pulling out a significantly smaller jacket. “Shut the fuck up.” You say in awe when you see the tiny jacket, the back of it embellished with the tour logo, as well as Polly’s name. 

Harry chuckled at your reaction. “I got jealous that the two of you already had matching tracksuits without me. Now we have a full family set.” He notices your eyes start to water and he pulls you against his chest and kisses the top of your head. “Princess, you’re crying over a dog jacket.” 

He feels you shake your head against him before he hears your muffled words. “You called us a family.” You pull back, looking in his eyes. “You’ve never said that before.” 

“I thought, at this point, it was implied.” He joked. “If you cried at that, you’re going to positively lose it at the next part.” You look at him curiously. “Once you two put them on, Lloyd is going to take family photos for us.” 

“Ugh!” You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Great plan, make me cry, get my eyes nice and puffy and then take a bunch of pictures of me.”

“I’ve got nothing but time until the show, if you want to take some time to freshen up.” Lloyd suggested. 

“Yes, please.” You sing-songed. “I just need like five to splash my face with water and toss on a little makeup.”

A few minutes later, you had fixed your face and stepped out in your new jacket with a fresh face of makeup to find Harry on the couch, Polly in his lap. Both of them were wearing their jackets. You observed the two of them, your heart feeling full and your mind willing away the tears that threatened to fall at the sight. 

“It fits her okay?” You ask, getting Harry’s attention.

“Like a glove,” He held the small dog up, showing her off. He stood from the couch stepping up to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Ready?”

“Yeah, you want to go grab Lloyd?” 

“We’re meeting him on location.” You give him a questioning look and he takes your hand, leading out of the dressing room and down the hall, carrying Polly with his free hand. 

You keep walking until you find yourself back in the stadium, Lloyd waiting on the stage for you. You look up at Harry who’s already looking at you. “On the stage?” 

“They’re tour jackets, it makes sense.” He shrugged. 

The photo shoot began the second Lloyd saw you approaching the stage. You take a variety of pictures, there’s a good mix of candids and posed shots, serious and silly. All in all, you spent about fifteen minutes taking photos, a crowd gathering once word got out what you were up to.

When you were finished, you took a look around and realized how right Harry truly was when he called you a family. But it wasn’t just the three of you, it was so much more. Harry had built this incredible family of people from different walks of life, all over the world. In that moment, you felt overwhelmed with love for your boyfriend, you leaned in closer to his side and let out a content sigh. 

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at you with a slight expression of worry. 

You nodded your head with a smile. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that right?”

“I do,” he said with an obnoxious grin. “But it's nice to hear every now and then.” He leaned down pressing his lips to yours in a lingering kiss. 

You were startled apart by Polly’s bark. You both looked down and laughed at her attempts to reach you from the floor. You leaned down, pulling her into your arms. “God, she’s even needier than you are.” You groaned.

“Heeeeyyyy.” He whined. “Apology kiss.” He closed his eyes and puckered his lips. You held Polly up to his face and she immediately started licking him. He opened his eyes with a grumpy expression. “That’s going to cost you much more than just an apology kiss.” 

“Oh, I know.” You smirked. “That’s why I did it.” You winked and gave him a playful tap on his rear before making your way back to his dressing room. 

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Never Hijacked!Peeta Fics Masterlist (3)

Part 1 / Part 2 /

Created: April 25th, 2024

Checked:---

all the world's a stage-Abagail_Snow (ao3)

Summary: They'll never live down the stunt with the berries. They should probably just accept that. Peeta is rescued from the arena along with Katniss (post-Catching Fire/Mockingjay divergence)

Any Other Way-cozycoffee (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta are both rescued from the Quarter Quell arena. Written for This Would Have Happened Anyway Summer 2023 prompt. ash and memory-songbirdheart (ao3) Summary: No. The very idea makes me want to cry. I could never have killed him. Never. I would sooner have died for him, with him. I still would. That’s what I wanted, that day. Not a rebellion. Just one man’s life. Katniss and Peeta walk the desolate remains of 12; a both rescued by 13 AU. I, and Love, and You-oh_so_loverly (ao3) Summary: Four snippets following Katniss and Peeta both having been rescued from the Arena and brought to District Thirteen. Peeta's Proposal-sillymarigolds (ao3) Summary: After being rescued from the 75th Hunger Games, the Victors find themselves yet again pawns, this time in the hands of the Rebels. Ever the Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee looks for ways to win an advantage in this new arena. A proposed solution by Peeta may just help in bringing about a happily ever after. roses love sunshine, violets love dew-adsofraser (ao3) Summary: Peeta is rescued along with Katniss from the Quarter Quell arena. They are able to grow together miles underground in District 13 as war in the districts rages on. "This Would Have Happened Anyway" Challenge for Summer 2023. Swan Upon Leda-FyreFlys (ao3) Summary: Katniss regrets that night 4 months ago during the victory tour, even if she doesn’t entirely wish it never happened. This part, however- the one where she’s being forced back into a death arena while four months pregnant- would be so much easier if it had never happened. Peeta isn’t supposed to know. So why is he telling Caesar, and all of Panem, on national television? OR: the fic where Everlark aren’t together yet, Katniss is pregnant during the Quarter Quell, Peeta isn’t supposed to know but then figures it out, Peeta never gets taken by the Capital and hijacked, and they try to live their “happily ever after”. The Brightest Timeline-Brown_Eyed_Devil (ao3) Summary: Peeta is rescued from the Capitol and brought to District 13 without having been hijacked. Katniss and Peeta reunite. You know the drill. The Things We Love Most Complete Us-geekymoviemom (ao3) Summary: “You love him,” Finnick told Katniss down in that bunker.  “Anyone paying attention could see it.” Anyone, apparently, except Katniss. Until it was too late.

This doesn’t hurt, does it?-endlessnightlock (tumblr)

Summary: Everlark in Thirteen featuring kidnapped but not hijacked Peeta.

[zukotheartist]

LONG tbosas (book, mostly) post ahead, about Reaper Ash specifically

A lot of people, rightfully, point out when Reaper cuts Panem's flag and throws it on the dead kids but something that gets to me as well (that I think is a really nice touch and should be talked about more) is his other uses of the flag (in the book, anyway).

The first time he cuts the flag, it's to bargain with Lamina.

Yes, he's doing it for himself because his mentor* won't send him food (or water) unless he puts on a good show (aka killing or at least attacking another tribute), which he isn't doing, and it's been days so he needs to eat (if I remember correctly, he had been able to get a few of Lucy Gray/Jessup's extra/leftover water bottles). But he was strong and big enough to hunt down another tribute and then steal their food. Not Lamina, probably, I don't think a big guy would be able to climb a pole that well? (I feel like that'd be easier for a smaller-skinnier person like Coral but idk, i dont climb lol). Regardless, he couldve hunted any of the tributes that were on the ground.

Instead, he notices that Lamina is heavily sunburned (enough for the skin on her nose to be chipping away) and tells her that he'll get her a blanket (piece of flag) to cover herself with, in exchange for some food.

Then he cuts another piece of the flag to cover his dead peers (and ofc that's the main use of it and the most important one).

But then he also cuts a piece of the flag... for HIMSELF. Not to use as a shield from the sun or to wrap a wound or any other "logical" or "useful" reason.

He drapes the cloth on his back and wraps it around his neck.

He makes a CAPE.

And what does he do, right after?

He twirls around and tries to look back at the cape as he's twirling. Then he runs up and down a bit, with his arms out-stretched, letting the cape fly behind him.

And the next time we see him? He's still wearing the cape.

That moment speaks VOLUMES imo.

A lot of people have pointed out that Suzanne Collins does the complete opposite of the usual tropes placed upon black characters: the girls aren't the caretakers, they're the ones being taken care of by other characters (Katniss and Rue + Tresh and Rue + Reaper and Dill) and the boys aren't treated as agressive fully grown men ready to attack, they're depicted as kind and righteous boys who don't wanna cause harm > the way they show it with Reaper (tho we also see it with Tresh) is soo so... idk, I don't have the words for it.

Not only does he apologise, before the game starts, to all the tributes for having to kill them and also promises them that he'll fight the Capitol and avenge them, to then refusing to murder them during the game.

Not only does he respect his peer's dead bodies when he absolutely had no necessity to and would even get repercussions for doing it (cutting the flag = defying the Capitol = no chance of him winning aka surviving).

He's also shown to be just a kid himself.

He's in an awful situation and trying to stay kind and safe and what's a little something that he does for Himself (the ONE thing he does for himself, basically his entire time in the arena he's doing things for others, even when the thing is just refusing to murder) to cheer up? He makes himself a makeshift cape and runs and twirls around a bit.

i have... so many feelings and thoughts on his character... Suzanne Collins' pen is definition of on fire. That's all.

*btw, something that also makes me incredibly sad is how he's taking care of everyone/not harming anyone but his own mentor still won't send him food or water :( and it's especially sad when you remember that Clemensia was one of the only mentors and Capitol people shown to be Actually against the Hunger Games, at first.

She wasn't bored by them (like it can be said for Festus or Arachne) and she wasn't simply disgusted from a gore/imagery perspective (like Snow and Livia too, if I remember well).

She was actually disgusted at them from a human perspective (not nearly as much as Sejanus but still) and even asked if "the Districts hadn't suffered enough" and "why couldn't they stop now that the war was over". Meaning, she was probably gonna be a good mentor (or as good as a mentor can be) before the snakes bit her and messed her up... it's all one big tragedy🥲

EDIT: wait, she Does send food by the end! But the point stands because she sends it after she's healed more and her brain's clearer.

[intrepid-fictioneer-7]

Recent chapters of the underrated Fate spinoff Fate/type Redline got me in my feelings so I had to talk about it at lengths, even moreso now that it hasn't updated in months (the mangaka, Ryouji Hirano, has health problems I believe). Spoilers obviously.

Now, when I call type Redline, "underrated", it's more of a subjective than objective assessment. Despite being a manga and thus far more accessible than the untranslated visual novels or light novel series of TYPE-MOON, I see it discussed fairly rarely. At the very least, as far as I know, there hasn't been much big posts analyzing it, so I believe this should be one of the first.

Just don't expect something really deep, these are mostly my musing, rambling observations.

In fact, for a long time, I didn't really have a well-articulated thought about Redline's themes. The contrast of a Holy Grail War taking place in the middle of a world war simply had me chalk it up to the tried and true "war is hell" and not think any deeper (which was a bit intellectually lazy of me). And there is certainly that, but it's a bit more elaborate than that, or else I wouldn't find Redline as interesting. And it all reached a thematic "climax" of sorts in the recent chapter as of the time of writingé

In reality, the story signaled its central theme from the very start, I just wasn't paying attention. One of the first chapters ends with this page:

At first, I thought this was just about Nobunaga. But it turns out this specific page and its text will become the precursor of how the manga is going to present Servants, and how this presentation fits into its larger representation of what war is.

Something you hear somewhat frequently when people mention Redline is "it made Servants scary again". It is only half true, Servants have usually only been "scary" in specific circumstances (Bluebeard in FZ, True Assassin in FSN, and Jackie in Apo come to mind). What they actually mean is that Redline shows Servants as above human again, and it does so by showing them brutally go through lots and lots of human bodies, when Fate is usually about Servants fighting each other. You see Servants vs. humans sometimes, but it's usually 1v1 deals. The only notable exception I can think of is Clan Calatin against Alcides in strange Fake.

There is also Apocrypha, but they are up against armies of homunculi, golems, and animated skeletons, so the dynamic is a bit different than with modern armies. It does however say this.

Indeed, Lancer of Red could burn to ash and crush the stakes with his flames and divine spear. But the Red camp's odds of successfully opposing the Black camp's overwhelming amount of material resources were fifty-fifty. Fighting a force of twenty thousand was beyond the capacities of even a mighty Heroic Spirit. Even then, there would have been no problems if they were alive, but right now they were Servants. The more they consumed prana in great quantities, the closer they approached death. (Apocrypha volume 2 ch.2)

Which is interesting in light of Redline's story, but I digress.

But here, in Redline, because it's during the Second World War, and members of the military are using Servants to do their bidding as well as planning to use them to win the war, there are a lot of interactions between Servants and modern human armies, usually violent ones, to catastrophic results, as Servants go through lots of human meat like cheese. The picture above is after Oda Nobunaga shoots down an entire fleet of American planes heading to Japan.

It's a type of interactions we only ever really saw when Berserker Lancelot in Zero overtook a JSDF fighter jet to fight Gilgamesh on Vimana, while the other plane got eaten by the Lovecraftian horror Caster summoned. The militarized forces of Faldeus in FsF mostly only go after human mages and steer clear of Servants.

And that makes for an interesting contrast that Redline is all too happy to highlight time and time again. When they say "Servants are scary", they mean "Servants are above human", in every sense of terms. No normal human can harm them or even pose a challenge to them, for they are above human strength and capabilities: they are superhuman, they are inhuman.

And that does not just mean inhuman power, but also inhuman thinking.

One of the main conflict throughline of the manga is the relationship between Kanata Akagi, our main protagonist, and his Servant Okita. They don't clash as such, it's not like Fate route Shirou hindering Saber from doing her job, nor is it like Kiritsugu disregarding Saber. It's more low-key, like a misunderstanding that can never be solved. Okita was a warrior in life, and this Holy Grail War in war-torn Japan is just another battlefield to her. Kanata however was born and raised in a Japan long after the war ended, in more peaceful times where he never had to kill. And it's this fundamental difference in lived experiences and mindset that stops them from ever reaching an understanding about how to approach the war:

Even later, as the war goes on, after Okita almost killed potential allies (more on that later), and Kanata reveals to her he comes from the future and what his goals are (ensure his grandma doesn't die and he can come back), and they decide to have a more honest partnership with each other, it's still not enough.

Because when Okita kills a human soldier again, this time a soldier wounded by Berserker who charged Kanata because he was a Master and he blamed magi for how pear-shaped the whole situation has become, this time she does a 180 and instead of convincing Kanata to become ready to kill, she instead wants him to think of her as his tool to kill in his place and take the burden upon herself:

Kanata can only ask her if she's really fine being a sword to be used by someone else and nothing more, to which she replies that's all she needs.

Do note how completely obscured, borderline blank (save for a small, thin-lipped smile), Okita's face is as she says this. As if Kanata and us readers really can't tell how she actually feels about her own words.

This is not the first time the manga does this with Okita.

Coming back to the almost aborted alliance I mentioned earlier, what happened is that, a few chapter before this, the Rider of this war, Sakamoto Ryouma and Oryou, met with Okita to ask her and her Master for an alliance to stop the war from spiraling further and kill more innocents. It would be normal to be suspicious of their intentions, especially since Ryouma initially hides from her that he is a Servant.

But that's not the reasoning Okita uses to reject the alliance and subsequently attack them:

"There is only one path for me (war)." And here it is again: "She's not human."

And it happened even earlier too. When Servant Assassin (Okada Izou) fights Okita, he grows more and more disturbed as he doesn't feel fear, anger, or exaltation as he fights and cuts her, feeling nothing at all from her aside from the scent of blood. Okada's thoughts are interspersed with Kanata's own thoughts about visiting his dying comatose grandmother in the hospital as a kid. And when Kanata touched his grandmother's hand, just like when Okada faces Okita, all it felt like was that:

As you can see, a lot of emphasis, both textually and visually, that Okita does not feel human, and her way of thinking is so alien people can't comprehend her.

And it's not just her, Servants in general are portrayed this way throughout. You saw the pilot's words about Nobunaga at the start of this post, but it occurs later as well. When she was first summoned in the previous war a few years ago by the Imperial Army, her summoner was an arrogant dude who tried to get her to submit and she casually beheaded him. Following that is this page:

Nothing showing on this blood soaked face except for elongated eyes like those of a monster. And after that, everyone in the room prostrate themselves before her like she is a god they worship.

She picks her Master from the crowd, the half-Japanese girl Kaname Asama, and she treats her surprisingly decently from what we see throughout the manga, giving the shrinking violet of a girl respect like she is her attendant, unlike Kaname's boss Magatsu (more on him later) who threatens her and even hits her.

So you would think they have a cordial relationship? Well, maybe they did, but that was until the recent chapter, which has Magatsu's Berserker fight Lancer, and instead of helping their ally, Nobunaga wants to leave, which leads to this exchange:

The same face and eyes again. Kaname doesn't understand her Servant, nor can she tell what she's thinking, just as Nobunaga's face loses all expression, making it impossible for us to tell as well.

(This is not exactly new in regard to Nobu: Keikenchi, the original author of Koha-Ace and the mind behind Redline, already made a Koha-Ace oneshot previously focusing on her, and in it it was shown that, when she was alive, Nobunaga could not "hear" the voices of other people, other humans, and it's her being unable to understand other people that contributed to both her rise and fall)

Another Servant serving as a good example of this is Berserker, which obviously makes sense when it's the Class that from the very start of the Fate franchise in Fate/stay night was there to be impossible to communicate with. But interestingly, everything that surrounds Berserker, not just the Servant itself, reinforces this theme, as if the story employs irony in making the maddest of them all in a war full of mad people the more in-depth examination of the idea instead of being the most obvious.

But I need to scale back a bit to explain.

The Master of Berserker is Major Magatsu, the head of the Imperial Army's magecraft division and one of the main human antagonist. He is kind of interesting in how it's not just his Servant, but his own actions that act as a fulcrum to demonstrate the point. See, in these last stages where it is clear Japan is going to lose, Magatsu wants to keep the war going. His main goal is that he sees the war as not just for the glory of Japan, but as an opportunity to create a world where mages stand at the top, even planning to orchestrate a secret coup within the Japanese military. He is able to amass a great number of men under him, all fanatically loyal to him due to a mixture of his own charisma and appeal to nationalism as well as cigarettes laced with suggestive tobacco making the soldiers smoking it pliable. His followers are so loyal in fact, that when a team of them comes back defeated after facing a Servant trying to deal with Team Kanata, they beat the only survivor up and torture him for his failure and for failing Magatsu, without Magatsu's knowledge or consent (in fact, he is slightly disturbed by this and thinks to reduce the dosage of the tobacco).

But that doesn't deter him from his tactics. Even when he has to hasten his coup after being forced to when pro-war proponents in the war ministry are assassinated, leading to his enraged troops to blame the proponents of suing for peace within the ministry, he still keeps with the easily pliable and fanatical troops even though it is clear he can barely control them. "When the madman runs, any man not mad starts running" is written on a banner hanging on the wall of the magecraft division's headquarters, and Magatsu, who doesn't know who wrote it, finds it a good quote, not knowing how prophetic the words would become. Regardless, Magatsu has made the entire magecraft division and then some fold under his command by making them believe he will be the hero to save Japan. He makes many speeches about saving the nation and how the preservation of the Empire is vital to the preservation of the soul of the nation, and can easily drive crowds into nationalistic frenzy with talks of using Archer and Berserker to fight on mainland Manchuria, and clearly invoking the spirit of complete sacrifice to the nation like in banzai charges and kamikaze, even if not explicitly:

Sometimes, an ordinary and unrefined person will defeat their fear of death and become a noble person with the resolve to throw away their own lives. This phenomenon, which one could call a miracle, is occuring at this very moment, in various places within Japan. War allows all sorts of miracles to exist.

For these reasons, the Colonel, the so far unnamed high-ranked Nazi who is Magatsu's main ally, praises him for "having a knack for understanding human nature", which is why he gives him Berserker, as he believes that, if he experiences the war from the same position as Servants, Magatsu may be able to come to understand them...especially, as he notes, Magatsu completely failed to have Nobunaga pay him any attention:

Magatsu, for all his charisma and servile attitude, completely fails to have Nobunaga pay him any attention even once since her summoning years ago. When summoned, she ignored him in favor of going to Kasame. She doesn't follow his orders nor does she even acknowledge him as a faithful follower: he might as well be air in her eyes. Not only that, she only talks to his subordinate Kaname Asama, whom he disdains for having foreign blood due to being half-Japanese. And the Colonel rightly realizes that Nobunaga's lack of interest makes him seethe. Magatsu seethes so much in fact that he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't need to understand Servants, especially to win when they don't seem to care what he's they're fighting for, so he would rather settle for Berserker than the unruly Archer, believing he can control him thanks to the Heroic Spirit Restraining Device provided by the Nazis. Very predictably, it goes pretty poorly.

As soon as he's summoned and out of the tank he was put in, Berserker immediately begins to indiscriminately kill soldiers of the magecraft division for no reason, and when Magatsu attempts to use his Command Spells on him, he cuts off his arm and crushes it, making the Command Spells disappear. Berserker then engages in a rampage throughout the magecraft division base, gleefully killing every soldier in his way, yet does not kill his Master despite his failed attempt to restrain him:

Magatsu is unwittingly along for the ride as Berserker carries him in his arms as he goes about his "fun".

Naturally, Magatsu's men try to slow down and stop Berserker using "anti-Servant" weapons (lol) that obviously do jack shit. But they use too much firepower and seemingly ignore Magatsu's cries for help, which leads him to believe that they are trying to kill them both. Berserker agrees in his twisted logic, and enacts more violence as he believes his Master is in danger.

The reality is actually different: when Kaname Asama try to get to exercise more caution so they do not accidentally hit and hurt the Major, when he is clearly an hostage, one soldier slaps her and rebukes her, madly stating that there is no way the savior of Japan would ever get hurt by these weapons.

They keep throwing weapons and men at Berserker, which eventually confuses Magatsu, because weren't they trying to kill him? Why then are they wasting their lives against a Servant?

Which is when the point is made.

As this massacre rages on, Magatsu is telepathically contacted by the Colonel, who congratulates him on summoning Berserker and says that the Restraining Device is working wonderfully saying as the major's mana and life are still intact. Magatsu, enraged, accuses the Colonel of having done something to his men, maybe brainwashing them to kill themselves, which is a fair accusation considering it is the Nazis who did assassinate the war hawks and forced Magatsu to accelerate his coup plans.

Except the Colonel says he had nothing to do with it and the reason for the soldiers' actions is far simpler: they admire Magatsu, they truly, genuinely do. The Colonel explains that his accomplishments, from taking control of the war to making a Servant protect the capital from air raids, made him look like a true messiah in the eyes of his men, and Magatsu was too blind to see it. Of course he denies it and calls the Colonel a liar, until he sees one of his men approach and try to reach him, only to be pierced by Berserker's spear for his troubles, and as he lays dying, Magatsu hears his last words on his bloody lips: "Glory to the Major."

As the one-sided battle against the human waves of martyrs continue, the Colonel throws Magatsu's earlier words about the war "allowing miracles" back to his face, bringing the whole arc to its logical conclusion, and I will transcribe the speech in its entirety since it intersperses scenes of the battle and that's too much images to for this post:

How about you open your eyes to reality for once? The only sane person in that battlefield is you. War is cruel. It burdens its victims with a detestable fate. But look at them. They do it for their country, for you. Their madness calls forth even more madness. All these men rush forward, knowing well only death awaits them. War takes these ordinary men, and turn them into martyrs. War allows all sorts of miracles. I thank you. You've allowed me to witness something beautiful. Did seeing people die finally get to you? Feeling remorse? I suppose you didn't have what it takes to be a soldier. This is no time to be losing your mind, Major. It's not everyday you get to experience war from such a safe position. Revel in it a little more. You are at the center of a miracle. That which creates miracles, and gathers people's faith. What do you call that, Major? Do you know? A God. Congratulations, Messiah. In this exact moment and place, you are the one closest to a God.

Just as the voice of God can't reach mortals, your voice can't reach these men. For alas, there are none who can hear it. Raise your head, Major. The curtain has fallen at last. And you should now be able to understand her a little more.

Archer arrives, looking down at Berserker and Magatsu standing on the mountain of corpses of all the men of the magecraft division, and Magatsu tries one last time to get her to look at him by calling for her help, as all he ever wanted was to prove he was worthy to stand at her side...and she laughs in his face. She mocks him for thinking he could ever control a Servant and finds his tear-stained and snotty face hilarious.

And Magatsu, at this last straw after everything, breaks.

As he begins to laugh maniacally, his Servant joins in, and as Archer, Berserker, and him laugh, it's as if the corpses of his men, their mouth frozen in bloody leering rictus by rigor mortis, are laughing with them. Magatsu finally realizes it was wrong to think to use Servants in a war, because they could never be measured by human standards.

It's not that Servants can't be understood, not solely. This sequence of chapters shows it goes deeper than that: it's war that turns everyone mad, and thus makes understanding impossible among humans. And Servants are humanity writ large, the highest of the high and the lowest of the low, because you need to be larger than life to be remembered for eternity in the Throne of Heroes. Which means that, where war turns humans into mad monsters, it makes the Heroic Spirits standing above humans into the embodiments, the apotheosis, the personified concepts of madness.

They are mad gods.

The World War and the Holy Grail War are both founts of insanity, because that's what war does. The average soldier's brain briefly brushes with the eternal sublime, the mysterium tremendum et fascinans that turns humans into figures of worship recorded and enthroned for eternity beyond space and time. And this brief contact with the Absolute gives them the divine language that makes them unintelligible to other men. Their visages, like Moses' after descending the mountain, can no longer be looked upon. They are completely obscured to us who don't live and breathe for war, for violence is their domain now.

War makes Berserkers of us all.

Is it any wonder that the Classes of the Holy Grail War by design favor warriors and warmongers? This war is rife with adepts of violence: a warlord (Nobunaga), a warrior (Mori), a secret police assassin (Okita), a plain assassin (Okada), and a martial artist (Li Shuwen). All of which mad in their own way and choosing the path of violence over any other options.

And I don't think it's a coincidence that the sanest and most "normal" Servants we have seen in Redline not only belong to the Classes less obviously about violence or weaponry, Rider and Caster, but their identities are also not famous for violence: the Rider was a politician and diplomat, while the Caster is a scientific thought experiment about the laws of physics.

I don't know how this will conclude or shake out, but I have my suspicions. Our protagonist Kanata comes from the peaceful post-war Japan and has so far always been repulsed by violence, despite attempts by his Servant and his grandmother to get him to get used to it to be more effective in the war. In fact, he reaffirms that he wants to win the war without becoming a remorseless bloodthirsty killer.

I can see potential routes the story can take depending on whether he slowly succumbs to war's madness or he heroically resists its call. Especially if he is pitted against what seems to be one of the main antagonists, the Nazi Colonel, clearly war's most fervent prophet, whose face is always obscured.

We'll see. The latest chapter as of the time of writing is the fight between Lancer and Berserker. Even the pair that seems to get along the best, Team Lancer, has the Master threatened by her Servant for almost "interrupting" his fight by trying to heal his wounds. And her (current) last words are a perfect encapsulation of the manga and my whole thesis:

[pokemon-ash-aus]

I LOVE this! It's SO GOOD!! I'm excited to see where you take it and how you plan to have Ash react. But it does really feel like Alpha is clawing to some kind of semblance to just survive rather than specifically trick Ash. Perhaps with the plan to fuckin book it instead of win the fight, cause I'd imagine he knows he can't win this fight. Make him hesitate long enough to run. But the tears especially don't seem fake to me, at least currently. And I'd assume Ash finds it incredibly conflicting no matter what he does, perhaps even just realizing that yes, this really is a child. And it is King but from another world. And that has to fuck with a person, to be confronted with something so certainly wrong, to know that things could've gone so different, that someone you love as your own child could've ended up in such a dark place for reasons you don't even know with answers you can't find. I fucking love it, steller performance. Muah, love it.

It's so interesting to see all of your takes!!! And im SO happy yall are excited about this as i am XD

I've planned this since last october (long ass time lol!) And it's finally reaching the point i have been *craving* for. Once this whole thing reaches the place i had planned for, i'll DEFO post the sketches that inspired it all XD

[kisses4lao]

HII I WANTED TO SAY I ABSOLUTELY LOVE UR WORK ITS JUST TOO GOOD, i also wanted to ask if u write for shang tsung? if u do could u do any thing for him, like whatever u feel like, i just need more shang tsung content barely anyone post about him😞😞

Idk how to write shang tsung so it's just gonna be random ass hcs sorry anon

Tw/cw: practically nothing

Not proofread

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Has a thing for your hands. He definitely thinks they're cute and likes to touch them. Sometimes he just stares at them for minutes on end until you snap him out of it

He probably has a really good understanding of herbs and what they taste like. Because of this, he's a really good cook. I actually went to his house on Thanksgiving last year he makes one mean turkey

He also bakes a lot. He probably bakes a shit ton of cupcakes and gives them all to you.

He smells like coconuts and ash

LOVES SLOW DANCING

He adores it so much. He finds it oh so romantic to slow dance with you, he just stares into your eyes the entire time and UGGGHHHH

He probably squishes your cheeks a lot. No warning. He's like a grandma he just finds your cheeks squishable and thinks it's cute

He loves cooking and baking with you. He's the type of guy to stand behind you and guide your hands. But he'd do this no matter what you're doing, he doesn't care if you know how to whisk something properly he's going to stand behind you and guide you

Kisses are very sensual with him. Soft and slow, no tongue unless it's in the heat of the moment, which is rare

He also likes to go on walks with you and points out all the bugs. He just likes bugs

I feel like he'd collect butterflies. He'd have a butterfly sanctuary and whenever one of them dies he puts them in a frame and hangs them up

He does this because he thinks they're pretty, and he finds the circle of life for animals to be beautiful, and he hates to see that beauty go to waste

He does this with moths too

Stargazing dates are a common occurrence. At least three times a month. He loves laying next to you and pointing out all the constellations

Speaking of constellations, he's very in touch with his star sign

He's also really good at poker for some reason. Like you can never win a game against him. Is he cheating? Mayhaps

He trusts you enough to let you go out without him, hes very much secure in your relationship

He uses a lot of different hair products so it stays nice and healthy

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A/n: writing this has made me realize that maybe I'm a shang tsung kinnie