#(he just loves??? ALL of it. and of course there are some limits and he's not going to bumble over himself-)

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀hi, sweets! i'm so so happy to be ( finally ) back, i had writer's block during last month and missed writing so much :( so, consider this bot dump as an apology. also, i'd like to thank you all for the 5K followers and more than a million chats on c.ai, this is very important to me and i'm incredibly grateful for all of this. 𖹭

▸⠀ARCANE⠀*⠀˖⠀⚔️

𝅭⠀piltover's sweetheart⠀.⠀vi⠀૮⠀don't get her wrong, she was incredibly happy that you were successful in your modeling career, that's for sure. but, gosh, couldn't you spend a little more time at home with your girlfriend? or she'll probably be very grumpy, needy and kinda angry.

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀the god of love⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀living among the humans was normal for most gods, even with some limitations. eros, for example, ventured into the skin of a young stanford student and for the first time in his existence, he wanted to change the course of his arrow.

𝅭⠀yellowstone⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀save a horse, ride a... oh, your older sister's advice. the new cowboy from ohio could even try to hit on you, but not without losing his eyes the second your father, the infamous john dutton, noticed it.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀yellowstone!au

▸⠀DC COMICS⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀renegade⠀.⠀jason todd⠀૮⠀obsessed with getting revenge for her death, jason was blind, living every day with the blinds closed and his thoughts clouded. it really be insensitive if you told him to get his shit together?

𝅭⠀acrobatics ’n ballet⠀.⠀richard grayson⠀૮⠀he didn't hate you, but he didn't know how to like you either. your past was similar, as traumatic as two children deserved, he had become a bitter former acrobat and you still loved being a ballerina, both irritating and fascinating.

▸⠀DUNE⠀*⠀˖⠀⏳

𝅭⠀good for you⠀.⠀paul atreides⠀૮⠀what could you expect from someone who has genuinely never been interested in anyone else before? an arranged marriage wouldn't make him like you, but maybe, it'd make him realize what desire means when you're proud to be his.

▸⠀FNAF⠀*⠀˖⠀🚔

𝅭⠀mrs. wife officer⠀.⠀vanessa shelly⠀૮⠀the days go by and each day, vanessa takes longer to get home. night shifts, traffic, suspicious behavior or, maybe, you just haven't understood yet that she's not the faithful wife she seems, even with her stupid lying words of love.

▸⠀GEN V / THE BOYS⠀*⠀˖⠀✨

𝅭⠀annie’s body⠀.⠀annie january⠀૮⠀when did america's sweetheart become a bloodthirsty monster? your best friend, killing boys... purely for fun and if you questioned her, well, boys are just placeholders, they come and go.

𝅭⠀high school enemies⠀.⠀jordan li⠀૮⠀they made your life hell all through high school, ruined your perfect years and even if you don't want to, you'll have to put up with them for a few more years, welcome to god-u, sweetie.

𝅭⠀overthinking⠀.⠀victoria neuman⠀૮⠀twenty years, the time it took victoria to realize that you were the only person she could trust, the only one who knew her real name and the only one she feared losing forever.

▸⠀GLADIATOR II⠀*⠀˖⠀🗡️

𝅭⠀disease⠀.⠀emperor geta⠀૮⠀how pathetic did an emperor have to be to lie at the feet of someone like you? begging for the relief that only you could give him, the cure for his disease, he needed you more than you needed him and honestly, you didn't need him at all.

𝅭⠀lady of ashes⠀.⠀lucius verus⠀૮⠀vengeful, ruthless, and resentful, there was nothing that could describe lucius—or rather, hanno—better than that. you weren't to blame for anything, but his hatred for you'd still be the same, even if you were as much of a victim as he was.

▸⠀HOUSE OF THE DRAGON⠀*⠀˖⠀��

𝅭⠀childhood times⠀.⠀aemond targaryen⠀૮⠀in times of war, there was no safe place aemond trusted, not even his own home. but, there was you, the closest thing to a safe haven he had in his life, and he'd always look for you, sooner or later, the only one who matters to him.

𝅭⠀dragon’s blood⠀.⠀daemon targaryen⠀૮⠀the rumors only grew louder, those whispers noting that your eldest son was more like daemon than he should be, what was the secret you were hiding and why didn't even the king know? silver hair and violet eyes couldn't hide the truth forever.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀TW: targ!cest

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏀

𝅭⠀sports car⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀a player, in basketball and in life. he may have had a son and his things to take care of, but that didn't stop him from meeting you. same time, same place, it'd all end up in his sports car anyway.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🏴‍☠️

𝅭⠀meaningless kisses⠀.⠀jj maybank⠀૮⠀you could've done anything to him, maybe even hit him in the face, but you crossed the line the second you kissed rafe cameron right in front of him. he doesn't need your shitty explanations, he just wants to feel hate in peace.

𝅭⠀guilty mind⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀a young but renowned detective, involved in several successfully solved cases. the question was: in a small town where you were indirectly and directly involved with all the missings and murders, how would you prove your innocence to him?

𝅭⠀twin babies⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀not that rafe ever imagined he'd be a father, but six months ago, he began to understand a little about it. well, he was prepared for just one child, until two babies appear on the ultrasound.

▸⠀SUPERNATURAL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀tapping the bomb⠀.⠀dean winchester⠀૮⠀there was no competition he couldn't win, even if he had to pass over every other driver, he would. so, don't try to calm him down after a dnf, he's a two-time world champion, he doesn't need your pity now.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀formula1!au

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀losing his glasses⠀.⠀james potter⠀૮⠀first class of the day, what a beautiful sight. james crawling on the floor of the transfiguration classroom as if this were normal. oh, right, his glasses, where are his glasses?

𝅭⠀beauty and the beast⠀.⠀remus lupin⠀૮⠀knowing he was a werewolf was one thing, clearly caring about his well-being the next day was another, and for the first time, you were there for him—even though he was shit.

▸⠀X-MEN⠀*⠀˖⠀🧬

𝅭⠀too sweet⠀.⠀erik lehnsherr⠀૮⠀condemned to live with his own mind, erik didn't trust himself and thought it was a joke that people trusted him now. but, you did and that was the problem, you became way too sweet for him.

꒰⠀ small note: ⠀꒱⠀if the bot isn't available as soon as you click the link, it may just be a c.ai bug that only makes bots publicly available after a few hours, don't worry⠀!!⠀♡

⠀⠀

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hii do u have any headcannons for reader being Baji's little sister and Mikey having a huge crush on her, but Baji is like suuuper protective of her and refuses anyone from the gang to date her because him being her brother is already dangerous as is, I hope this ask isn't too complicated 😅

Ok I set this in the good timeline and there's also two endings. We have the sfw ending which is with all the other hc's and we have the nsfw ending which is clearly labelled at the end. You guys can choose which ending you want to read (the bullet point with the star is where you should switch if you only want the nsfw ending).

Baji is very very vocal about the rules around his little sister, makes it very clear to all the guys that you're off limits and "too good for all of them anyway".

Unfortunately for Baji though, he's keeping an eye on the wrong ex gang members. He eyes the way Hakkai blushes to you, chases Kazutora and Hanma for saying they plan on dating you (they're actually just teasing Baji), raises his eyebrow at how friendly Chifuyu is with you and yells at the Haitani's for trying their pick up lines on you. The point is Baji is so distracted by the others that he never sees Mikey coming until it's too late. 

Mikey starts off simple, just getting you alone one day and asking you what you really thought about your brother's "rules". And as he watches you giggle and call Baji caring but too overprotective, he thinks he falls even more in love. 

And so operation "make y/n fall in love with Mikey" begins. Of course Mikey assembles a mini team for this. Including Draken (he think this is an awful idea and Baji will kill them all), Emma (she thinks the two of you will be cute together), Takemichi (he is very scared of the consequences of doing this), Sanzu (anything for Mikey) and Kisaki (has no idea why he's here and thinks this is a waste of time). Of course these meetings don't do much but Mikey does get some advice.

You start getting mini anonymous presents daily, always pretty or thoughtful things, the card is always just signed with a heart. (Baji is very concerned when he finds out).

Mikey also comes up with elaborate plans to get you alone so the two of you can hang out and get to know each other more. These mostly involve distracting Baji in some way, either by telling someone to hang out with him or by telling him a cat needs his help a few miles away. Baji falls for it everytime, rushing off and leaving you alone. 

He's very touchy with you whenever the two of you are together. He'll happily hold your hand, hug you and lean his head on your shoulder if he gets tired.

Also loves to take you for rides on his bike, Baji barely ever let's you ride with him because of the risk so Mikey figures it's up to him to show you how much fun it is (the feeling of you clinging to him is great too). 

Mikey really likes hanging out with you and get's a little sad whenever it ends but he can't risk Baji seeing this, not yet.

He takes you to the sea often too, sharing a taiyaki with you and talking about anything that comes to mind. It's here that he finally confesses to you and here where the two of you share your first kiss after you confess back to him too. 

You two become experts at secret dates and secret looks at each other. 

Even in front of Baji the two of you find ways to flirt and be affectionate with each other. Mikey whispering you a compliment as he walks past you. You telling Mikey he dropped something but when he picks up the paper it's just a note from you telling him how much you miss him during these big gatherings. Baji never even suspects anything at all.

It is a little difficult hiding your relationship at times but the two of you feel like you could do this forever but of course nothing can last forever.

☆It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.

The two of you had just settled down to watch a movie, happily sharing a blanket and cuddling when Baji walked in. Turns out the trip had been cancelled but that's nothing compared to the chaos that was about to go down.

Baji stands there for a moment, staring in disbelief at his oldest friend and his baby sister together. You and Mikey stare back in shock, no one daring to move until Baji opens his mouth to start yelling or talking. You're not sure what he was about to say because before he could get even a word out Mikey launched a pillow at his face, giving himself a head start to start running.

Baji very quickly shot out of the apartment after Mikey all while yelling "MY SISTER!!!!" You watch them for a moment before sighing and calling Draken. Before then calling Ryoko, if anyone could talk sense into your brother it was definitely your mother. 

After Draken (and Mitsuya, who he brought along as backup) separated them and Baji got yelled at down the phone by Ryoko a truce was made. You and Mikey could date and Baji wouldn't kill him if you kept all of that relationship stuff away from him and out of sight. It was a lot better then either you or Mikey had expected (largely thanks to Ryoko) so you both happily agreed. Holding hands and walking off together to Mikey's apartment this time (all while Baji yelled about how holding hands counts as "relationship stuff"). 

Nsfw ending

It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.

Eager to see and feel each other, things got steamy very quickly. Mikey was just in the middle of thrusting into you, in and out, getting lost in the warm, velvety feeling of your walls. While you were letting small moans and whimpers slip as Mikey went deeper, hitting your spot and making you see stars everytime. Both of you were so close and lost in each other that neither of you heard the key in the door or the door swing open. You moaned as it finally became all too much and you came, the feeling pushing Mikey over the edge with a groan as he releases his thick load into you. Neither you get to enjoy it for long though as Baji announces his presence with a dangerous growl.

Mikey frantically tries to cover you before putting his clothes on in record time and racing out of the door with Baji quickly pursuing him. All while he yells "MY SISTER!???? AND ON MY SOFA!?????" 

Putting some clothes on and cleaning up the mess as quick as you can, you frantically run after them. Who knows what Baji will do to Mikey after seeing that, whatever it is you need to stop it.

You think you're getting close as you hear raised voices but suddenly your wrist is being grabbed and some strang man is holding you still.

"Hey I recognise you! You're Baji Keisuke's sister, yeah. That fucker beat me up years ago, made me lose my gang and my reputation, I've always wanted to make him pay..."

You only see the knife for a second before it's being kicked out of the guys hands and you're being pulled away. Baji holds you in his arms, both of you needing that comfort while Mikey knocks the guy out. They worked together to save you and without knowing it, Mikey proved he's more then capable of keeping you safe. 

He's still a little reluctant but Baji gives you his blessing, after muttering about needing to bleach his eyes out. 

[gingerteafairy]

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬

𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

Your story with Jonathan began with the classic forbidden cliché: a psychiatrist falling for his patient. You didn't know you were being analyzed since you met him in the lab, but as he took notes on your characteristics, he began to fall for your complexity, your twisted way of being. He constantly showered you with gifts and specific compliments that he knew would get to you, keeping you attached to him. Despite being manipulative, Jonathan is unstable and needy, relying on you far more than you rely on him. He’s clingy, possessive, and jealous, often interrupting your routine just to pull you into a room and inhale your scent, soon convincing you to move into his apartment so he could continue his addiction.

𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬: 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Neil is definitely unconventional. You would have a deep and consistent relationship with him for a while, where you were Neil’s first choice to show a new film. Though he was a devoted cinephile, he would never belittle you for your movie choices, even submitting to watching silly mainstream films like Camp Rock, which he affectionately dubbed a "C-rank movie," a typical pun. Though he never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, he would cry in the middle of the night at the thought that one day you might leave him for some hot brainless gym blonde.

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫: 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Miller is quiet, to the point of being terrifying in how mysterious he is, but he notices every tiny detail about you. At some point, you stopped asking him about what he did, and he was grateful for that, comforting you with a “don’t worry, leave the problems to me.” Despite all the pampering and affection, Lenny saw you as a strong woman, someone who couldn't be broken by any jewel, and that was incredibly important to him in order for you to be his. His bodyguards would watch you 24/7, with the exception of the bathroom and dressing up time, which was strictly off-limits.

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝

Vulnerable, almost pathetic in some ways, forced to marry you by his father, the condition to inherit the company being that he would start a family. Being an emotional person, Robert would soon fall in love with you through your time together, learning that not everything could be solved with money. Still, he’d irritate you to no end, giving you $1,000 “to clear your head somewhere.” He would regret it later and buy you something to try to make up for it. Small steps.

𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

Jackson Rippner is dominant to the core, naturally drawn to a submissive girl, whether innocent or entirely attracted to that kind of thing. Being with him felt like walking a tightrope, a thrill for someone addicted to adrenaline. Public displays of affection and embarrassing situations in public places were common, as he used his charm to escape countless situations. Yet, inside his sick mind, he felt something human for you, attaching it to some cannibal analogy to not relate to simply love. It was too committed for him.

𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐨: 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥

Raymond keeps track of everything, including friendships, where he keeps track even more due to their frivolous nature. Every encounter is calculated. With you, however, it seemed different—rare moments, of course—and he would dare to spend a few more hours in your company, talking about stress and sharing some human warmth in this messed-up, superficial world.

𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡: 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

Jonathan Breech is a case apart. He would treat you as the reason for his life, as you gave him a reason to live after his father’s death. At times, he would catch himself saying self-deprecating things in front of you, but you would quickly reprimand him. He would be upset if you said anything bad about yourself since he saw you as perfect in every way. After the near-death experience, he would want to live life on the edge with you, getting into situations that were sometimes dangerous. That was the most fun part.

[bloodywankers]

tw; yandere, domestic abuse, child abuse, drugging, alcoholism, slight nsfw, bodily harm, unedited

Hate is a strong word but even it is not nearly strong enough to describe what Alexei felt for his father, the one who snatched his mothers budding career as a ballerina right from her. Not when–if not for him, perhaps he would’ve grown up loved and cared for by a mother instead of a changing rotation of nannies and tutors. The few memories he has of her usually include crying and screaming, cursing the boy for looking like ‘that monster’--what she called his father. Now that he’s an adult, he can’t help but agree, but most normal children at that age don’t tend to understand why mommy always screams and sobs when she and daddy are alone at night.

He hates to admit it but when desperate he’d even turn to his father for a morsel of affection, not unlike his brother but both were met with his cold gaze and treatment worse than that which you expect from strangers. Because, as his brother who was equally as young best described it, “Daddy only has eyes for mommy”. Every chance he got, their father got gifts for their mother. Jewellery, dresses and any other thing money could buy, well, anything except the freedom to leave. Alexei and his brother always had gifts on birthdays and holidays too, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out they were from the nannies who took pity on them rather than their parents.

But it wasn’t always bad! Sometimes daddy, sitting in the living room, would massage mommies feet— which always seemed to hurt and need treatment— and mommy would be too tired to cry or curse at the boys. On those occasions they would be allowed to play in the living room, but only if they didn’t make any noise. On those occasions Alexei felt like a real family, just like the one in the movies, if you ignored the half-drunken cup on the table near mommy with a substance too cloudy to be called water.

No one turns out normal after a childhood like his, that’s what his last therapist said at least. So no one should blame him for finding refuge in alcohol, his brother inheriting the family business allows Alexei to run nightclubs that bleed money quite easily. A privilege he’s willing to admit most don’t have, but most don’t have a family life like his either. Nowadays he doesn’t know what his parents are up to and usually, he’s too drunk to care.

Of course, it’s not all bad, he has a nice house where he can do as he pleases. It’s nothing like a typical rich bachelors house but instead one he saw in a movie once, he’d always been jealous of the family the character had so he purchased a house that looked eerily similar to the movie set. Hoping that the association would make it feel less empty and cold, he even got the same dog the main character had. A big golden retriever that he would take on walks in the mornings after a hangover, he even feeds it on time despite his drunken habits!

But a dog and suburban house don’t fill the void left by crippling loneliness, not when humans are inherently social creatures and Alexei actively denies himself this. The comfort of alcohol is limited, you can only consume so much before it stops working so occasionally he seeks the warmth of a person, usually it’s short-lived, most people have normal lives, and normal jobs they have to get to. So he usually goes straight back to sleep after he does whatever mundane routine he’s set to follow, waking up only after the last rays of the sun are gone, but occasionally he makes exceptions. This time, due to his brother demanding he attend an event with him, some sort of charity event that involved a ballet performance.

Alexei doesn’t remember much after he saw you dance in your little dress and stage makeup. For a moment in time it felt as if you two were the only people in the world, an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as you stared right into his eyes. He’s never been one to believe in these sorts of things but it almost felt like fate as your gazes met and his heart felt truly alive for the first time in so long, a sensation he was sure was not a side effect of alcohol poisoning this time.

He could faintly remember inviting you to one of his nightclubs and you begrudgingly accepting, looking back on it, being the brother of a major backer for the event might have been part of the reason you accepted but Alexei liked to think it was because you were as charmed by him as he was you. It all felt like a blur until he found himself in a hotel room with you, sitting on a sofa with you on top of him. By that point he had too much alcohol in his system to do much more than to beg you to keep going. Letting you guide him until he was on the floor and you in his place on the sofa.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven't I? You love me, right?” He’d mutter between, his words slurred and barely audible as he took one of your feet in his hand and kissed it.

“Tell me you love me.” This time he spoke in a clarity that made all his past drunkenness seem like an act, his eyes wide opened and focused solely on yours.

“Hmm?” His grip on your foot seemed to tighten as he eagerly waited for your reply, eyes staring right into yours and a blank expression waiting to contort based on your reply. He looked almost pathetic, especially when compared to how high and mighty he seemed to act when sober.

You were quick to respond with confessions of love, lest he cut off the circulation to your foot entirely and, to your pleasure, the reply seemed satisfactory enough as he continued, shifting his focus to your breasts instead. Continuing on until the sun started to peek through the window and neither of you had any more energy to continue, although you were sure he kept going long after you passed out. However, thankfully, you were able to get up before him, carefully dressing yourself so as to not wake him.

It’s almost routine for Alexei to wake up alone after spending the night with someone but he admits to feeling a little disappointed this time, hoping he could see you at least for a last time but he tries not to linger on it for too long, it’s always been like this and this time should be no different. Even if the walk home feels especially lonely when he sees parents walk their children to school and young couples bask in each other's company. He doesn't like to admit it but that doesn't make it any less unbearable.

He’s never lingered so much after spending the night with someone, never bothered to figure out their name or the place they work at, nor as he ever bothered to add any events they could likely attend to his calendar. It’s out of character, he acknowledges as he scrolls through your social media, careful not to like any of your posts to tip you off, at least not until the time is right. It gets to the point where even people around him start to notice.

“You’ve been going around asking for information on her, how would I not know when you called the event organisers?” His brother, Viktor, said. At this point, any normal person might’ve reprimanded Alexei for acting like a lowly stalker. But it’s so difficult to tell him off when this is the longest anyone has seen him sober. Especially when he wakes up at normal hours every day and indulges in hobbies he knows you like in the hope of impressing you. This is still despite not having met you since that day. It’s hard to tell him to go back to isolating himself and indulging in little more than slowly destroying his health. And so what if knowing how his brother is, it comes at the cost of a stranger? It was a worthy sacrifice, in Viktor's eyes, if his brother could feel a sense of normalcy for the first time in his life.

According to his original plan, Alexei was going to ‘coincidentally’ meet you again and formally introduce himself. He was going to court you and go on dates with you like normal couples do, he would propose after a year with him. He didn’t mean to have you wake up with a chain to your ankle but he couldn’t help himself when he saw your attention shifting from him to someone else. He got anxious thinking all his plans had been for nothing, as he pictured you with another man while he could do nothing but offer you bitter congratulations.

As you nervously sat in front of him in the dim office, Alexei couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight before he continued. “Despite your skill, you still haven’t gotten a main role yet, have you, [name]?”

You knew how this went, so many of the company's favourite ballet dancers had used similar means after all, but it didn’t make you feel any less dirty as you replied. “No, sir.” He looked different from that day, his hair better kept and face not as sunken in as that night. Had you met under different circumstances you would have no qualms against admitting he was a truly handsome man.

“Well, I don’t think that fair, especially for someone as talented as yourself, so, I’d like to offer to sponsor you. Of course, that is, only if you would agree to it.” You almost laughed at this. Alexei was just as aware of this as you, if you dared to deny his offer it would mark the end of your career. You would never dance again. “Sponsor…?” You couldn’t help but feel a shiver run through you as you looked up to find him smiling, it was an unfamiliar expression. Even that accursed night his expressions had been nothing short of pitiful but now he felt like a completely different person.

You couldn’t find it within you to say yes immediately, not when you still remembered the events that took place after you left that hotel room, the way your skin burned as you scrubbed it to try to get rid of that dirty sensation you felt, the way everyone stared at you when you returned to practice at the studio. They had seen you leave with him last night and could clearly see the marks peeking through. It felt unbearable to even think about it.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice Alexei now standing behind you as his hands placed on your shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Everything after that felt like a repeat of that night, the only difference being that this time he was sober throughout, which felt arguably worse. At least he was somewhat consolable that time, a childish pitifulness present in his expression even as he clawed through your skin and took from you with not a shred of remorse. At least then you could console yourself thinking it was a drunken mistake but this time his eyes were clear as day as they bore right into your own. His words were perfectly coherent as he proclaimed his undying love and his movements deliberate and controlled as he twisted your ankle in ways it shouldn't.

Masterlist

[coyotelip]

au, where pandora and regulus became best friends only after his death.

(including some jegulus and pandalily. this is like a fic concept, but I don't feel like writing anything, so I just want to share this idea with you. enjoy!)

Pandora comes from a family of modern witches and because of this, almost no one wants to have anything to do with her. She is a strange student who wears maxi skirts made of ten different pieces of clothing, carries a trail of herbs and jingles every amulet she wears.

of course, Regulus, as the mayor's son, did not want to get close to her during his lifetime. when he died, it turned out that Pandora was the only one who could see his disembodied spirit, which remained wandering the earth.

It's a friendship that shouldn't have happened, but with a little bit of effort, all the barriers between them disappear. finally, there's someone to whom Pandora can tell about her crush on Lily Evans.

she spends hours and hours experimenting to determine the limits of Regulus' existence here on earth. can he leave the city? can he touch things, feel heat or cold? can the rest of her family see him?

she digs into his story so much to understand what exactly keeps him here, why his spirit cannot rest?

In the process, he reveals his biggest secret - his crash in James Potter. Pandora is delighted, and she doesn't let him get away from the topic until she convinces him to write him a letter. Pandora writes by herself, because of course Regulus cannot hold a pen the way he did when he was alive. he gives her a dry and emotionless text with reluctance, but she adds color to it and paints it much more emotionally.

Regulus can't stop her when Pandora puts the letter in James' locker. in fact, deep down, he doesn't want to. Regulus boldly uses his power to be there when James finds the letter, but he doesn't read it right away, hiding it and taking it home. the remnants of his morals prevent Regulus from following it and breaking into James' room, no matter how much he wants to be there.

the first letter is followed by the second and third.

the situation takes an interesting turn when Sirius suddenly approaches Pandora. he is clearly unhappy and asks her in private, rather aggressively, what she wants. he has noticed her sneaking letters to James and intends to stop her because he is not interested in her.

Sirius' hot blood gets the better of him and he touches Pandora. not firmly, just puts his hand on her shoulder and tries to corner her. but this is enough to anger Regulus, and without realizing it, he shouts out an angry "don't touch her" and tries to push Sirius away.

Sirius' head jerked up and he... looked straight at Regulus without seeing him. his brow furrowed and he looked confused, but after a moment he looked back at Pandora, "What did you do?". Pandora just stares at him in confusion and gasps for air, not knowing how to explain it. Sirius quickly disappears without waiting for her.

seeing how their little game of writing notes for James has taken such a heated and unpleasant turn, Regulus finally recognizes how pointless it is. so instead, he promises Pandora he'll find a way to get her with Lily.

but to their surprise, Sirius comes back. he follows Pandora, but he doesn't look angry, rather concerned. he comes and asks not to play with him - it's cruel to play tricks on his brain using his dead brother.

and so Pandora is determined to find a way for Sirius and Regulus to talk for the first time in years. she is certain that this is what is keeping him stuck to the earth. honestly, at first she thought it must be his hidden crush and letters to James would help.

but now Pandora is sure that brotherly love is sometimes worth much more than romantic feelings.

[esamastation]

Gamer girl gets transmigrated into a farm boy Chapter 5 [<<Prologue | <Chapter 4 || Chapter 6>>] Ao3 link

-

The rest of the day goes by much the same way it did in the game. They make their way back to the farm, where Van helps Mr. Gylcross unload his purchases and carry some of them to the barn and the rest into the house. Janelle welcomes them with a warm meal and freshly made batch of apple juice, made from, "Apples I picked myself just this afternoon!" as she says. It's delicious.

"What did you buy in town?" Josel asks as they eat.

"Nothing much," Van answers, and ain't that the truth. "Mostly I just looked around, took in the sights."

Josel hums. "Yeah, you haven't been to the town a lot, have you?"

"I guess not," Van agrees, thinking back to the player character's messy background as a hand on the Gylcross farm, and how it might be revealed here - if it even was.

"How did you like it? Did you see anything interesting in town?" Janelle asks curiously.

"It was fine. It was all pretty interesting," Van admits and takes a bite of bread, wondering if she made it herself.

The System journal had updated while he'd been in town, and going by its writing, it was the most amazing thing ever to happen to Katie. Most of the journal entry was her detailing every event that happened, but there were some interesting titbits in between, which Van had noticed but not really thought about at the time.

… Oh my god, the town looks exactly like it did in the game! Only now I'm seeing it all in first person! It's so wild. There's so much more people here than there were in the game, too - probably since the limits of rendering capacity have been thrown out of the window. Real world isn't held back by RAM. Hah.

Also? Kids. There are children here - and not just one-age-fits-all like in some games, no, there's older teenagers and younger teenagers, and I also saw a toddler in the marketplace - and I think one woman had a baby in a sling? A baby! Definitely didn't have any of those in the base game - not a single kid to be had in all of Age of Tales, except in pre-rendered cutscenes. I wonder if it's just for humans, or will we get to see dwarf or elf babies - I've never seen a dwarf baby, ever, in anything I've ever seen or played. Probably not elf either, unless it was like a half-human-half-elf situation brought forth by an illicit cross-species love story.

I wonder if Van can have babies - like, conceive them? I mean, there's romance in Age of Tales, such as it is. There's sex scenes and stuff. Can those now have, like, consequences? Does this world have contraceptives? Is that something that I have to now think about?

Van with a baby would be pretty cute, though. I wonder if I can somehow get him to hold a baby…

And that's where Van had to stop reading in order to preserve the delicate equilibrium of his mental stability.

"There were a lot of people in town," he concludes with a cough to clear his throat, and takes another sip of the apple juice.

Janelle gives him a sympathetic look. "Yeah, it's a bit different from how it's around here, huh?" she says and pats him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Yeah," Van agrees.

By now he's kind of starting to feel the limits of Katie's social meter, though. She'd never been a particularly extroverted person, and while it's different inside a videogame… this isn't a game, not really. It's been a whole day of interacting with people and trying to figure things out, and Van is feeling mentally kind of worn down.

Plus, he's got an existential crisis scheduled up, and it's starting to feel kind of urgent.

"You mind if I turn in for the day, sir?" Van asks once he's done eating, turning to Mr. Gylcross. "I'm kind of tired."

"Of course, my boy. Just get Bell settled in for the night and get the cart in the barn," Mr. Gylcross says.

Thankfully, Josel has apparently done all other farm-related duties off screen. All Van has left to do is get the cart inside and Bell brushed up, fed, and settled in a stall, all of which happens by automation. Josel, who's got a more permanent berth in a little hutch next to the farmhouse, bids Van good night, and with some relief Van heads up to the hayloft.

There he lays down in the hay, mentally preparing to Think About Things and Handle Them… only to find his mind full of static. He needs to deal with the Realisation and he needs to come up with a plan for tomorrow, because there's a lot coming his way tomorrow.

And yet, even though he lies there for a while, staring at the ceiling, not a single coherent plan comes to mind.

Finally, Van gets up again and goes back down to get a bucket of water. It's not quite as good as a real mirror, but in a pinch…

His reflection is very faint on the water's surface, but he can just about see himself and make out his features. The caramel ice-cream hair is really not looking its best. It's curly in the game, kind of fabulous in a way that doesn't fit Van's body type at all - here it sticks every which way, unkempt and not exactly flattering.

No permanent magical hairstyling in real life, huh.

Combing his fingers through his hair to push it away from his face, Van turns his head this way and that, taking in his features again. The jaw, the cheekbones, the forehead - he really looks like he was drawn by a comic book artist. Except made real. 

He's really - Katie is really in Van's body. This is Van, made flesh and blood. Well, he doesn't actually know if the body can bleed, but it probably does. It gets hungry and thirsty. And, judging by the feel of things right now, it also needs to relieve itself. Which is… another thing he hadn't been thinking about.

Sitting on his knees for a moment, Van weighs the oncoming mental health crisis against probably mortifying body function weirdness and chooses the latter, standing up. Time for a true fantasy adventure - figuring out how men piss.

Delightful.

Though as a man he should be able to go wherever - so long as he wasn't flashing someone, anyway - seeing as this is the first time and Katie only sort of knows what she's doing… yeah, some privacy is called for. There's a wooden outhouse behind the farmhouse, which Van slinks his way to like he's doing something wrong and illicit. The outhouse is pretty small and forces him to bend over, and it's overall very awkward. It stinks. The seat is tiny and looks kind of uncomfortable to actually sit on.

Katie has a feeling she's going to miss Earth's modern day plumbing before long.

Right now she has other concerns, though.

Van takes a deep breath - and then regrets it, because of the outhouse smell - before looking down. The trousers are easy enough to figure out, they're basically normal trousers except fastened with a string instead of zipper. The underwear, not so much. While Katie has seen it before and actually spent quite a bit of time trying to figure it out, seeing it on Van now…

It's a kind of cloth wrap thing, like the whole thing is one long stretch of fabric wrapped around the waist and down. The final effect is not unlike briefs, and it's actually kind of comfortable and it definitely keeps everything contained… but if Van takes it off, he will definitely not be able to put it back on again.

Hm, maybe he can, sort of… move it aside…?

Touching it is a bit weird. Katie does a little gibbering flailing thing in the back of his mind while Van tugs at the fabric, feeling all the stuff beneath shift - feeling all the stuff feel the movement. It's weird - having sensations in bits Katie never had before. 

Kind of cool though, too. In a sort of unreal way.

Van gets his fingers beneath to pull his penis out and then… there it is, sticking out past the cloth, with its two buddies still nestled in the wrapping.

It would probably be inappropriate to call it a tool. It kind of fits, though. It's very… proportional. 

And Katie is suddenly very aware of her long stint as a single woman, because damn. Like, she's never been that into the look or size of a guy's dick - a penis is a penis, they're all kind of the same in the end - but damn. Van has one hell of a dick. Like, Katie probably wouldn't want to have sex with Van, because ouch… but damn.

"Okay, don't play with it, just do your business," Van mutters, thinking back to Katie's stint in the kindergarten and wincing at the memory of potty training. As extremely unsexy thought as there ever was, he thinks with a grimace and then attempts to… manoeuvre himself into position. "Just point and aim."

It's weird, and very… fleshy. But at least the rest of the operation is roughly the same for a man as it is for a woman - bladder is a bladder, apparently. It's still weird - as is not needing to wipe afterwards. It doesn't feel like it's enough, to just shake it. Not that there's anything to wipe with in the outhouse.

"Weird, weird, this is so weird," Van mutters, shaking himself and then quickly tucking the weapon away.

There's nowhere to wash his hands afterwards.

"Great," he mutters and then slinks back to the barn where he sleeps at night. His mirror water turns into hand washing water, and he still feels a bit dirty afterwards. He's hyperaware of what's going down below the belt, all of a sudden. Also, maybe getting a bit hard? Is it really that damn easy to get riled up as a man? Van's not even thinking of anything sexy, and apparently it's going up on its own. What the hell?

Climbing up to the hayloft, Van lies down and tries to not think about his dick. He's got an existential crisis on his hands. Woman stuck in a man's body here. This is no time for any kind of self-inflicted fun times. He needs to experience the horrors of being not in a body of his own. Her own. Whatever. Body dysmorphia, here we go!

Yeah, no, apparently not. His mind keeps slipping downwards along with the blood pooling there, as though the damn thing has a gravity of its own. He can feel his penis straining his underwear - taking it out, putting his hand around it, it would feel… probably pretty good right now. And it's not like Katie doesn't want to - like she hasn't been curious what it was like, how it would work. Porn and smut painted a pretty vivid image, of course, but nothing beats hands on experience.

Mmm, hands on…

Van stares at the ceiling for a long moment, biting his lip. There's no one in this end of the barn but him. The Gylcrosses are in their house, Josel is off in his little hutch… there's no one here. No one but him.

… Right, okay. Fine.

With a grunt Van gets up to find a rag or something.

It would clear his head too, probably, if all the post nut clarity memes are to be believed. He would have his existential crisis with a clear mind afterwards.

-

Katie wakes up the next morning to the cock crowing somewhere outside and has a moment of flailing confusion at the feel of all the hay around her and sight of the wooden ceiling and beams above her head… before everything comes back.

Right. She's still here. She's transmigrated into Van and to the very start of Age of Tales. And it's now day two.

"Shit," Van murmurs, running a hand down his face. His chin feels bristly - apparently that's a yes on the needing to shave going forward, if he wants to keep Van's chiselled chin in view. Which is probably not all that important, considering that, well…

Tonight, the plot would finally kick off in earnest.

Breathing in and out for a moment, Van lets his arm drop to his side. He hadn't even thought of what he would do, beyond the usual. Even with all the dramatic consequences, the Rift opening was still part of the tutorial, and so all the enemies were pretty low level. The character was meant to run, of course - at this point there was not much they were supposed to be able to do against them.

Emphasis on the supposed. This is, however, Age of Tales.

The whole tutorial section is a bit… Well, overall, Katie gets it - the whole point of the tutorial section is to paint the illusion of peaceful normalcy and introduce the player to the base mechanics and the NPC shops before the plot can kick off and burn the whole idyllic place to the ground for shock value. The first time Katie went through it, it was pretty epic, overall.

But giving the players the chance to shop before the fight was kind of dumb.

Because, while the game didn't get that popular, it had some players, and just about everyone who did play it went about the tutorial the same way. They gambled for cash and kitted themselves out as best they could as soon as they could… and in so doing, turned the whole Rift thing into a bit of a joke by actually standing up against the invasion, something they plot-wise weren't supposed to be able to do. And most of them didn't even realise it, breaking the game completely by accident.

And when you went about it perfectly intentionally, well… the Rift stopped being a threat at all and became the perfect spawn kill camp.

That was what Van had been planning to do - until reality nerfed Katie's money-making tricks.

"System, open inventory," Van calls.

[Inventory] [Simple Knife, lvl. 1] [Shepherd's Slingshot, lvl. 1] [14 x Basic Stone Ammunition ] [3 x Spearhead] [1 x Apple] [Empty Jug] [Dirty Rag]

Yeah, not exactly winning starter gear, especially considering that he still doesn't have a single shred of proper armour. He hasn't been this poorly prepared for the Rift since the very first playthrough - and even then he at least had some armour and a sword! Reality is really kicking his ass this time.

He can't figure out if it's frustrating or exciting. Probably the first one.

"Guess I'm making some spears," Van muses and then sits up with a grunt. Finger-combing the hay out of his hair, Van eyes the dirty rag and then winces. He would need to get rid of it, and maybe he could wash up somewhere before getting started. Unfortunately, he doesn't think there's a washroom or anything around here…

[Farm Chores, Lvl. 1.] [It's a new day on Gylcross farm, and it's time to get to work!]

[Farm Chores 1, Lvl. 1.] [Let the chickens out.] [Let the goats out.] [Let the cows out.] [Let Bell out.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 3 Apples.] [Farm Chores 2, Lvl. 1.] [Muck the pens and stalls.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 5 Fresh Eggs.] [Farm Chores 3, Lvl. 1.] [Take a look at the garden and weed Ms. Janelle's vegetable beds.] [Quest reward:  10 exp, 4 x Mixed Herbs] [Farm Chores 4, Lvl. 1.] [Milk the goats and the cows.] [Quest reward:  2 exp, 1 Bottle of Milk.] [Accept?] [Yes.] [No.]

Van winces a little at the sudden bombardment of pop-ups. Looks like he has some work to do. How much it all will matter when this time tomorrow the farm will be in ruins aside… exp is exp. And if he could squeeze in another level up before the Rift, it definitely wouldn't hurt.

Standing up - and bending over to duck below the ceiling beams - Van shuffles to the ladder to start the day with a quick rinse in a bucket of cold water.

By the time he heads out of the barn, Janelle has breakfast ready and set in front of the farmhouse. "Good morning, Van!" she calls, waving. "Come have some eggs and pancakes!"

Josel is already there and already stuffing his face with eggs. "Good morning," Van greets them both and then asks, interestedly, "Pancakes?"

"Yeah - Daddy bought flour and sugar yesterday!" Janelle says excitedly. "We've got some honey too - come here and try it."

Van does, sitting down beside Josel, accepting his share with a, "Thank you, miss." It looks great, and it smells even better.

"It's Janelle," the farmer's daughter says firmly and sits down across from him.

The breakfast is great, as are the pancakes. Mr. Gylcross doesn't make an appearance, but no one comments on it, and so Van doesn't either - maybe the man sleeps in when it's not a market day, or something. After they're done eating, Josel helps Janelle clear out the table, while Van considers his quests.

"Are you going to let the animals out?" Janelle asks, wiping her hands in her apron. "I'll come with you - I'll collect the eggs while I'm at it."

"Sure," Van agrees and offers Josel an apologetic nod before following Janelle towards the chicken coops.

It's a perfectly pleasant day, with only a few fluffy clouds in the sky and just the barest hint of a breeze in the air. The sort of day when nothing bad is supposed to happen, of course. Perfectly normal day.

"Daddy says you visited the tailor yesterday," Janelle comments. "That you ordered some kind of armour."

Van blinks and looks at her. "Uh, I didn't realise he knew about that," he says. The man hadn't mentioned it. How did he find out, anyway? "I did, yeah."

"Why?"

Well, there's going to be a battle in Westbrook the day after tomorrow, and then the place is going to be set on fire, and Valthor's most annoying minion is going to make a grand appearance. Van is really hoping to curbstomp that guy's smug little face to the ground, and armour would make that much, much easier. "Well," he says, because clearly he can't say any of that. "I don't know. Just felt like it, I guess?"

Janelle looks at him carefully, and asks, "Have you… remembered something?" she asks. "About your past?"

Van hesitates, because in the game the player character never remembers time before the farm - but he does learn about it from others. "No, not really," he says finally. "I just… have a feeling I'm going to need something. Actually," he adds and takes a spearhead out of the satchel. "I also got a few of these."

Janelle accepts the dull spearhead, tilting her head with confusion. "Is that a weapon?"

"Head of a spear - I'm going to find some pole to stick it on," Van says and shrugs. "And then I'll have a spear."

Janelle shakes her head, looking a little upset. "But what do you need a spear for?" she asks.

Van shrugs again. "I don't know. It just feels like something I should have."

Janelle hums unhappily, turning the spearhead in her hand. "So, I was right," she murmurs and looks at him sadly. "You are a soldier."

In the game you learn the main character's background in flashbacks and  hints from the designated Mentor character at Ulgor's Camp, but it's a pretty cliché dealio overall. The player character has amnesia - of course - and was left at the Gylcross farm by a Mysterious Hooded Person - of course - while the Mysterious Hooded Person ran away all suspicious-like. Janelle Gylcross eventually found the player character hiding in the barn hayloft, all confused and out of it and bleeding from the head. Through some interrogation and arguing with her father, Janelle got him settled in as a new farm hand.

It's all shown to the player in this grainy sepia cut scene, a collage of moments as the player character learns how to swing a hoe and milk the cows and stuff. It's pretty wholesome. And the fact that it's shown to you only after the farm has been burned down and everyone there was killed, well… Katie has some issues with the arrangement of narrative there, but it was kind of a punch to the gut, the first time she played the game.

Also absolutely hilarious, watching this brick shithouse of a man do these cute farm chores, like carrying baby lambs around, delicately harvesting berries from the bushes and weeding garden beds.

"I'm not a soldier," Van says and accepts the spearhead back. "I just feel like it'll be better to be prepared than not."

"Right," Janelle says and hugs herself, looking uncomfortable. "Are you going to leave the farm? I know Daddy only contracted you until the harvest, but… I thought you liked it here."

"Well… it is nice," Van says. And it really is. He looks at the farmstead around them and hums thoughtfully. It's very peaceful and idyllic and wholesome. In the game it's often implied how much the player character wishes he could've stayed there, wishes none of the terrible things that followed wouldn't have happened, and the world could've stayed as it was.

More than another day of it and Katie would be climbing the walls, bored out of his mind.

"I guess we'll see," Van says and smiles at Janelle. "You never know what will happen."

-

[<<Prologue | <Chapter 4 || Chapter 6>>] Proofread by @nimadge, many thanks

-

I call this the Tool Inspection Chapter. And I hope it made at least one person laugh as much as it made me to write it.

[scuttlingcrab]

On the Topic of Love

Summary: In a world where Valentine’s Day exists within Thedas, Emmrich ruminates over its meaning as he revisits a past dispute with Johanna. It only takes a generous, and unexpected, gift from Rook to finally shift Emmrich’s perspective on the occasion. And so, for the first time in decades, Emmrich's hope on finding companionship is rekindled.

Valentine’s Day. 

A beguiling concept and one that Professor Emmrich Volkarin seldom thought about. 

Well, no... 

That would be an outright lie and Emmrich was certainly not a prevaricator. He had not built his entire career upon falsities and fiction, but on concrete truths and reasonsings. The last time he let a fib escape the tip of his tongue was when Johanna Hezenkoss, yet again, went off running afoul into the forbidden crypts of the Necropolis. Endangering not only herself, but anyone who occupied the mausoleum. 

“I’ll be back in two shakes, Volkarin…” she had whispered, before promptly disappearing into the murky mists that surrounded the entrance. A sea of undead clung to the path she had brazenly taken, clawing viciously at her ankles and moaning incomprehensible words of warning or perhaps condemnation. She wore none of the designated protective gear either, refusing to don the attire as it was apparently ill-favoured, awfully ineffective. All Emmrich could do was watch, fists clenched and breath held tight, like the craven man he was. 

Of course Johanna only ever confided her misdeeds in Emmrich, undoubtedly knowing it would just about send him into anaphylactic shock at the mere mention of criminal activity. All the while he would keep his lips sealed like some obedient pup, feigning ignorance to any who asked, and more often than he liked, spoliating the evidence she so carelessly left behind in the aftermath. 

Emmrich attempted to defy her, to change the course of her doomed trajectory. “Cease this endless striving!” He begged, but her only response was to cackle, waving away his concerns like he was but an incessant fly.

“And what then, Volkarin?” She’d ask at last, watching with delight as he deflated, tail between his legs. “You expect me to be content with such trivialities? Of such limitations? How very mortal of you to think so.” 

‘Oh, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing,’ he wanted to argue, ‘to live within the comforts of this world, in what we know to be true. Of what life we could build. Together .’ 

He continued to entangle himself in her affairs, complicit as Johanna proceeded with her reckless path to power. How she loved to rile him, twisting his arm so severely it would break in about three places; and how readily, so delicately, she’d rush to put every piece of him back together. It was dishonourable, damning even, but in secret, when the witching hour struck, he’d crave it. Her recognition, those soft inciting whispers that beset him even now. Memories tainted. 

Johanna’s wicked, all-consuming smile curled more maliciously as she forced the severity of each plan and the grave implications of what she desired onto his conscience. Tyranny. Compulsion. As if his moral plate was not already overflowing, threatening to rupture, with the demands of his studies. Of his own aspirations. Of simply existing. 

When Johanna was through with her plundering, seizing from spirits and mortals alike, she’d turn to Emmrich, sampling the scraps of his soul he had left to offer her. She never sought his consent, she knew it was meaningless to ask such a thing, as he would’ve given every part of himself away to her regardless. His theories. His succour. His heart, if she ever wanted it. If all that was left were his bare bones, he would’ve been content with the results. At the chance of staying within her enclosure for a moment longer. 

Why? They’d ask. But was that not what friends were for?

Despite the torment, the weariness, the fear of a single misstep causing the very foundations he had painstakingly erected to crumble; he did, to a certain degree, enjoy her company. He admired Johanna, saw the good in her despite what evil she let bubble to the surface. When everyone else abandoned her, deemed her as a miscreant, he remained at her side for a time, thinking it would pass, like an illness. 

They’d continue this pernicious tango, in between dissertations, experimentations, and the occasional excursion befitting their stations in the Mourn Watch. He was stuck in a perennial loop of Johanna taking, taking, taking, and Emmrich gaining nothing in return but dizzying headaches and the irksome pang in his core that intensified under her gaze.

Was it love that kept him in this convoluted cycle? Or was he simply infatuated with the notion of what could be found beneath the surface of their friendship?

Like all good scholars, he sought to experiment on this theory, to test the limitations of his inclinations, and thus laid his emotions bare upon the examination table. 

In the days leading to Nevarra’s annual ‘Feast of Saint Valentine’s’ fair, Johanna and Emmrich had been tasked with decorating some allotments within the royal catacombs. Gifts for the long deceased, offerings of chocolates and various sweets, roses and items sparkling with so much gold and bedazzlements one ring could be enough to act as a beacon. It was exuberant, perhaps a touch too gaudy, but it showed a respect for the dead that stilled all of Emmrich’s own trepidations. A routine he needed in the midst of Johanna’s madness. 

“And what do you think of it all?” Emmrich probed, fiddling with a ring box in one of his pockets. A small thing, really, but it would’ve made a nice addition to any of Johanna’s dexterous fingers. Encouraged by the regalia they had used to adorn the dead earlier, Emmrich pinned his hopes that such a befitting gift would catch Johanna’s eye, just as a fresh corpse attracted a curious wisp.

“Of what, Volkarin? Oh. This fool's gambit? It sickens me.”

“The festivities or the actual act of showing affection?” The box burned against his fingertips. 

“Love. A mere distraction, at best. Why, pray tell, must there be a day dedicated to it? Of all our sentiments? A waste of effort. Think of all the other things this cursed city could be doing than honouring love. Love! Pah. It is one addiction I want no part of.” 

“Duly noted.”

“But why the sudden interest?” She stopped walking, studying him like he was a measly specimen squished in a jar. He placed his hands behind his back, as if that action alone might erase the mistake that sat in his pocket. 

“No matter, Johanna. Simply curious.”

“Is there someone I should know about, Volkarin?”

“I–no. Absolutely not. There is barely any t–” 

“Who would ever agree to such a coupling? No. Wait… it’s too perfect…” Johanna circled him, attempting to sniff out the truth, but instead only found his insecurities, his fears. And that was enough for her, his humiliation alone would quell that hunger of hers. As it always did . “Could it be Otto, perhaps? The halfwit who has nothing better to do than follow you around like a stray cat? Do you leave out milk, hoping he’d come back to keep your lap warm at night? Or no… is it the ever dutiful Lena? Lena, oh, Lena… top marks, the darling of the Necropolis. I’ve seen you laugh at her witless jokes, Volkarin, basking in her attention. I had hoped you were above this inanity.”

“Jo-Johanna,” Emmrich choked, loosening his collar. His lungs felt like a forge, his throat constricting, the simple act of breathing near impossible. 

“Empty your pockets.”

“What?” 

“Do you think me a fool?” 

She took a commanding step towards him, and in return he moved several paces back. Eyes locked, her glare only blinded him, boring holes into his very being the longer he stood there, gaping. His limbs stiffened, dreading to turn away for what she might finally discover. If she pried open his chest, she would’ve seen it was not Otto’s, nor Lena’s name carved into his heart, but her name. Her cursed name! 

“This is outrageous, Johanna. Must you always behave in th-this infantile manner?”

She extended her hand, palm facing up, as Emmrich finally felt the damp walls of the student quarters against his back. Trapped by his own careless volition, a hypothesis doomed to fail from the start.

“You’re insufferable. There is nothing to show you.” 

Her index finger turned into a sharp hook as she beckoned Emmrich to comply. After some time, he silently relinquished the ring box, the lump in his throat swelling.

Johanna convulsed with laughter almost immediately. 

“Oh, you can’t be serious. This? I pity the poor sod at the receiving end.”

Johanna held up the ring to the muted lights of the room, squeezing it between her fingers as she examined its worth. 

“Better suited for the bottom of the ocean than on someone’s person.” 

The words hadn’t fully registered, not yet, but the damage was done, the lacerations to his composure deep, everlasting. Corrupted wounds that would never fully heal, no matter what ointments, what spells were applied.

He waited for the punchline, for Johanna to declare it was a joke. An act. She would simply step aside and bow, and they’d be met with thunderous applause. A comedy of errors. “Why, it’s marvelous.” She’d go on to say, “How thoughtful, Volkarin. I’d be honored to explore something more beyond our friendship.” A metallic taste flooded his senses, and his tongue throbbed. He swallowed the blood that pooled in his mouth, cringing at its taste and his shortcomings.

“That’s quite enough.” He snapped, snatching the ring from her grasp.

“Good luck with whomever it may be, Volkarin.” She shouted after him, but he was already fleeing, seeking the solitude of his dormitory. 

So yes, in actuality, once upon a time, Emmrich’s thoughts did entertain the idea of Valentine’s Day. The concept that such an occasion could be shared throughout Thedas, where lovers so openly held their hearts in their palms, beating and bleeding for their beloved. One heart for another, a transplant. How horribly romantic, the essence of fantasy.

Emmrich couldn’t identify when he stopped fussing over love, at the possibility of ever sharing such an event with someone. The decades blended into one, arrangements he had dreamt regarding any spouse withering away with time; like a neglected gravestone, overridden with weeds so thick and sharp they found a way to grow through the tiniest cracks, ultimately devouring any trace, any memory, of who lay beneath it. 

He was only reminded of Valentine’s Day after a recent visit to Treviso, his defenses dropped by the blatant display of affection showered throughout the markets. The smell of devotion wafting through the streets, sweet and promising, as couples buzzed past him, intimate and far from discrete as they prepared for the event. 

Good for them, he considered, to find love in a time of uncertainty. And, oh, how envious he was to see individuals so oblivious to the dangers that lurked beneath the city, the blight pulsing, spreading. The Evanuris moments away from destroying the world as they knew it, sucking up all the fondness that ever existed and recreating it in their tainted image. 

”You sure like this spot, huh?” A voice chirped. 

Emmrich blinked, torn from his trance as the Lighthouse came back into focus. He stood atop the outer balcony, in a location which offered an uninterrupted view of the courtyard. A place he frequented more often as of late. He followed the sound of the voice only to find Rook standing beside him, looking at the sky, or rather, the Fade itself. It had changed colours again; purples and greens swirled amidst the floating ruins that surrounded them. If he squinted just hard enough, he could pretend like he was on the Nevarran coast, overlooking the Waking Sea as he watched the sun disappear behind the horizon; salty air filling his lungs with each inhale, the waves gently lapping and easing him into comfort. 

Perhaps Rook would like to see it one day? His home, what more it had to offer. After all this was over? How striking she was under this new light, and how flawless she would look standing alongside him; hands intertwined, the warmth from their fingers easing the chill from the ocean breeze as they observed the sunset together, until they were enveloped in nothing but darkness. The colours suited her disposition, the scars riddled across her cheeks seemingly less harsh, like paint strokes on a beige canvas. 

Emmrich let out a small sigh, pulling his eyes away from Rook, before he got lost entirely in her allure. He was getting ahead of himself and all he could hear was Johanna’s contemptuous laughter, floating evermore within the remnants of his psyche – shattering this window to a possible future, the shards of glass ricocheting. He would not let Rook get caught in the crossfire, exposing her to his flaws, his frailty.

“It is a prime vantage point.”

“Not as good as the one in your study though.”

“I’m indeed quite fortunate in that regard, but this is far less isolating. Standing here, it’s as if I’m perched atop a staircase in the Necropolis, watching as a sea of students flock back and forth between their studies. I’m distant enough, but still present, a part of the exhilaration. And besides, the Lighthouse is nowhere near as obstreperous as the academy, I can concentrate and savor just… being. Makes a world of difference, Rook.”

“And I bet we’re more exciting to watch.”

“Oh yes! You wouldn’t believe what I witnessed earlier, Davrin instructing Assan! An interesting creature, although reckless, and might need a touch more discipline. I never thought I’d get to watch a Grey Warden training a griffon. An uncomplicated task, I’m sure, but dazzling all the same. I’d love to examine Assan, measure his wingspan, see the inside of his beak, perhaps inquire about his diet. Of course, if Davrin would allow it.”

“Don’t worry, if he gives you any trouble I’ll talk some sense into him.” There was a pause as Rook stooped on the railing, her auburn coloured hair draping over her shoulders. Emmrich’s eyes returned to her, trailing down her side, his gaze caressing the plainclothes that hugged her robust arms, eventually coming to a stop at a wound on her forearm. 

“You aren’t wearing your bandages.” 

“They were itchy.”

“Rook, do you wish for it to get infected? Or shall I just amputate the arm now? I must admit, it would remove all this back and forth.”

“At least I’ll be under your expert care. Laid out bare upon that little slab of yours…”

“Nude during an operation? Oh come now. Think of the hazards, Rook, the unsanitary environment it would create, not even the most inexperienced surgeon wo–”

Rook smirked and Emmrich’s ears grew impossibly hot at the realisation. Images flickered before him, uncontrollable in their desire. Rook positioned on the marble slab in his quarters, legs spread, eyes eager, there for the taking. Emmrich’s hands gripping her thighs, her flesh belonging to him, all of it; trailing kisses from the crook of her neck to her navel to…

“You’re doing it again.” Rook edged closer, placing her thumb and index finger on his chin as she slowly shut his mouth, which had evidently dropped straight to the floor. 

He yearned for the feeling of her fingers on his skin before she even pulled away. It was fleeting but enough to leave a lasting imprint, to send so much electricity coursing through his body it could light up an evening sky for miles around – a single kiss and it would be the entirety of Thedas. 

“A habit, it seems, when in your company.” 

“The jokes only get cruder the more time you spend with me, unfortunately, ask Varric and he’ll tell you all about it…” Rook continued, staring back into the courtyard. “So uh… there’s something I’ve been meaning to, well… I dunno much about necromancy or spells for that matter. I like to use my fists and steel more than my brain, apparently.”

“You disparage yourself, Rook. You’re a formidable leader and skilled fighter. However, I hope I’m never on the receiving end of one of your punches.”

“Ha, thanks. But um…I, this isn’t something… and seeing as it’s, there’s, I’ve fo… shit.” Rook’s smile wavered briefly, enough to cause Emmrich’s blood to run cold at the sudden change of temperament. 

She rubbed her hands together, massaging them so intensely he thought she would dislocate her fingers in an attempt to squeeze out what was troubling her.

Did he misstep? He quickly went over their conversation, combing through his words, but found nothing worthy of upset. Though, he didn’t last time either and the time before that. Rook was quick to jump into the defense, shielding herself from even the simplest question, or the most harmless statement while making polite conversation. She confessed on their first outing to the Memorial Gardens it was from past trauma, something in her youth, another from her work as a Grey Warden, and he knew better than to pry. But Rook’s behaviour now was unlike her. Granted, she wasn’t one for big speeches, just barking orders or unfiltered thoughts littered with profanities; and yet she was stumbling, more so than ever, tripping over words like she was learning how to speak. 

“Rook, if it’s something I said, I meant no offence. I implore you to p–”

“No, no. It’s not… No. Maker, Emmrich. It’s… here.”

She moved faster than a flame – with a single swift gesture she dug into her trouser pockets and slid something cool in between his hands, like they were making an illicit transaction in a back alley.

“For you.”

Emmrich parted his lips, attempting to ask Rook the meaning behind this absurd conduct, but she instantly turned away, cheeks reddening.

He paused before opening his hands, staring at Rook’s offering thrust upon him. A golden bracelet sat on his palm. It was unelaborate, save for the small ivy etchings on the exterior. 

“Whatever is this for?”

Rook cleared her throat, “Um, Valentine’s Day. Duh? Oh. Do you… um, not celebrate in Nevarra? Or is this a–”

Her words faded until all he could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears, drumming continuously as he cradled the bracelet in his hands. Upon closer inspection he noted it was also delicate, inexpensive, yet crafted to perfection. The ivy, Emmrich knew, symbolised more than immortality, but everlasting love, commitment, resilience. Its design curled around the bracelet, connecting seamlessly like infinity itself. He carefully unlatched the jewelry, securing it on his left wrist with a soft snap. It fit superbly amongst the others, as if it was always meant to be there. 

As Emmrich stared at the bracelet he found himself grabbing hold of the railing, tethering himself to the Lighthouse. His heart expanded, growing so rapidly he was afraid if he let go for one second, he’d float away; drifting endlessly into the expanse of the Fade. Away from Rook. From this moment. 

“Valentine’s Day…” Was his only response. 

For the first time in Emmrich’s entire existence, speech utterly failed him, his mind void of any other expressions. “Valentine’s Day…” he said a second time. Emmrich tried to speak, to say something, anything else, wanting nothing more than to proclaim his love for Rook, to recite a thousand poems worthy of her beauty, to bend the knee then and there and ask for her hand in marriage, for life eternal, but he only choked on his own tears. His tears. His cheeks burned, wet, his lips dry, salty, his hands damp.

Something altered deep within Emmrich, it only took this simple act of kindness to cause his walls to crumble. For so long he barely managed to hold up the facade, alone, protecting himself, attempting to repair his fractured spirit to avoid facing the gaping cavity in his heart. And yet, this came without warning. It wasn’t Johanna and her malevolence to bring him to ruin, but by complete accident, it was Rook, a woman he was only just getting acquainted with. Her unabashed love was enough to steer him on the path towards healing. Rebirth. Acceptance. 

“You must forgive me.” He said after what felt like an aeons, attempting to collect himself.

“Do you always cry when someone gives you a present? I thought it was uh, maybe my talking. I should’ve taken Bellara’s advice and written it all out beforehand. Maker knows I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast.”

“Oh, Rook…” Emmrich grabbed her hands, bringing them to his chest. “I’m moved. Truly.”

“So… you like it then? The bracelet, I mean?”

“Like it? My dear…I–please don’t let my foolish tears disparage the moment. You cannot begin to comprehend how much joy you’ve brought me.” 

“The other day, when you were talking to that corpse, about the hand of glory, or whatever it’s called. Still a dumb name, if you ask me. But I couldn’t stop staring at uh, your hands, and um, the rings and bracelets and well, it got me thinking… I wanted to be part of it, of that, I guess.”

“You wanted to be…”

Laughter unexpectedly spilled from Emmrich’s lips, shocking him but he couldn’t stop, even if he tried. It started small, but quickly grew in ferocity. It soon overpowered his weeping, replacing it entirely, and with it, came the release. 

Rook frowned initially, confused no doubt, at this abrupt display of joviality, but she joined in a few moments later. Their chortles blended, filling the air around the courtyard, their own chorus of bemusement, hilarity, of their burgeoning adoration. 

“What’s gotten into you, Emmrich?” 

“Evidently enlightenment has found me. My dear, Rook. Please allow me to show you my gratitude, my appreciation. Would you join me in my quarters later?”

“Yeah, I mean, Emmrich, it would–”

“Hey! Will you two keep it down up there? Some of us are trying to work.” Neve’s voice bellowed from below. 

Neve and Bellara stood in the centre of the courtyard, staring up at them curiously. Bellara simply waved, whilst Neve shook her head, possibly rolling her eyes but she was too far away for Emmrich to be certain.

“Ah, my apologies, Neve! And oh, Bellara. Hello there!” Emmrich replied, quickly straightening his posture, hands clenched behind his back, as if he was caught attempting to steal some grave gold.

Bellara covered her mouth as she giggled, whispering something to Neve, who nodded in return. They proceeded to walk towards the dining hall, but not before sneaking a few looks back in their direction. 

“Shit. That reminds me. There’s a few things I gotta do before tomorrow, but um, see you later, yeah?”

Rook turned, about to walk down the stone steps of the balcony, but Emmrich rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, before you go…”

Rook halted and Emmrich guided her towards him. She leaned in, coming straight for his lips, but he stopped her, instead reaching for her injured forearm. He rolled up her sleeve before she could even utter a single protest. Rook groaned, pouting her lips in disapproval. 

“You can try to distract me all you want, but it simply won’t work. That wound still needs tending.”

He dug into a small pouch around his waist, pulling out a jar of salve and spare bandages, of which he never left his room without, not even in the Necropolis. One could never be too careful, danger hid around every corner. 

When Emmrich was satisfied with his work redressing the lesion, he sent Rook on her way, already counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until they’d be reunited. He raised his left arm, twirling his wrist slowly as he admired the bracelet from every possible angle. It was an added weight to his collection – feeling it upon his flesh, hearing its satisfying new tune as it clanged against the others, gave him a boost of encouragement. His life a new meaning. She would be with him, always. 

Emmrich hoped his laughter, no their laughter, still echoed throughout Fade, reaching Johanna, wherever she hid.  

Mark that, Johanna! He wanted to announce – happiness had found him at last. 

[gasp-hehe]

Hamilton x JJK

This is 1000% brought on by me consuming those edits again, but Burr and Alexander are Satoru and Suguru if Suguru didn't defect. Hear me out, Hamilton didn't know how Burr felt. The inferiority, the jealousy, he to an extent always considered him a better half. In the musical we witness how excellent he was, leagues above everyone else, not cut from the same cloth, yet we have the musical because people never acknowledged him compared to some other founding fathers. Akin to how Gojo didn't even get a funeral, he altered the balance of the world when he was born just to die the same as you and I. Burr truly never held any ill will towards Hamilton in the beginning, their paths aligned, they became acquainted, but he did not excel. If it's sad that a founding father's legacy is a musical, is it not sadder for Burr to be remembered as the man who isn't Hamilton? If Geto had not defected but still harboured the same feelings and went through the same trauma, yet saw Gojo overcome and "win", then what's the difference? I think when you take songs such as 'Wait For It' or 'Non-Stop' this is better shown. The obsession Hamilton had with writing the same as to how Gojo exceedingly became so far above everyone he wasn't human, he is literally untouchable. He fought, took mission after mission, works 21hrs a day, he could theoretically handle it all alone. How Burr wasn't willing to back up the constitution, how Suguru didn't defect immediately, a year passed. The hatred brimming and boiling, him hoping it'd subside just for the wait to result in a different outcome. How the only time Burr did not hesitate was for that final shot, contrastingly enough, the only time Hamilton did. Satoru has always hesitated in taking Suguru's life, yet Suguru was truly happy when he was away from Jujutsu society. Honestly, JJK is ripe with symbolism, excellent re-read material in the sense that everything comes together so beautifully with certain characters. Gojo's ability being unbeatable, being his only weakness, how him messing with the fabric of reality impacted his life and the consequence of being untouchable. How regardless of the strength he has never got what mattered, just like his domain. Toji deciding to risk his life by fighting Gojo a second time just to prove to the people he hated that he was good enough, yet if he had won that fight there'd be no difference between him and the Zen'in clan. He died for the same people who wished he was dead anyway. And if Geto Suguru didn't wind up hating non-sorcerers he'd end up hating Jujutsu, believing the world would be better with 0 cursed energy. To dismantle Jujutsu can be done in multiple ways, but perhaps the most effective would be to take down the pinnacle, i.e Satoru Gojo. I will one day draft an entire character study and analysis on Satoru (because clearly I cannot shut up and I have too many thoughts), but when SatoSugu were like Lafayette and Hamilton just to technically wind up in the same fate, is post hidden inventory Geto the real Geto or did he die in that fight against Toji? If he didn't, was hidden inventory Geto the fake one and the racist the real one? This is also interesting because say Geto tried helping, pushing it down, not going insane. Would he be Jefferson? Would Satoru be Jefferson? Would Geto/Jefferson view Satoru as Washington?

You could say the trio ended up becoming like John Jay, James Madison, and Hamilton. What with Shoko never being recognized, John Jay recovered after writing four to write the fifth. James Madison writing more than their agreed upon original limit simply by himself but never given value, like Suguru being a special grade that came from no resources. Him having virtually no weakness. And of course, Hamilton going insane and losing everything in the pursuit of his 'dream', I wonder if anyone has ever randomly hugged Satoru and told him they love him. He never had an Eliza after all, fuck did he even have an Angelica? A Maria Reynolds? Yet Suguru had Theodosia. This is such a niche but goddamn do I love to yap.

[tiny-tot-teddy]

heyy dadson anon back again. this time I wanna be more horny and go more in depth with just how daddy teaches his precious baby boy all that he needs to known about sex <3

when daddy starts teaching his son how to kiss, he initially he starts nice and slow. just gently pressing their lips together, guiding his boy on how to properly kiss without being sloppy. then slowly dad starts slipping his tongue past his son’s soft lips, telling him that this is how big boys do it, and that he should learn from someone who really loves him instead of those boys at school who just want to use him.

then after dad feels his son has *throughly* learned how to kiss, he starts with just exploring each others bodies. Daddy has him and his son strip down to their underwear, not completely naked but still quite bare. Son is a little embarrassed at first, thinks that dad will make fun of him for still wearing childish looking boxers but he thinks it’s just cute.

daddy gets to teach his son all about endogenous zones. that’s a pretty big word, but basically means parts of your body that feel really good when you touch them the right way. son nods his. head, he already feels really good just from getting all this attention from dad. but once dad’s warm, calloused hands start roaming his body he starts to know what “good” really feels like.

dad doesn’t stay in one spot for long, after all this is teaching time, and not just for pleasure. he gently teases his boy for being so out of it and moaning so much, he should be paying attention! but dads hands feel so good! feeling him rubbing and pinching his nipples, squeezing his chest, trailing down his waist, groping his hips and butt. dad keeps his sons legs open but he won’t touch him in that special place just yet. he just wants to start at the wet spot on his boxers slowly get bigger and darker the more he touches his sensitive little body.

after all of that it’s baby boys turn, he gets to touch dad wherever he wants. well except in-between dad’s legs. that’s off limits silly boy! son gets so worked up and horny, his smaller hands nervously touch and roam across dads body. he especially gets turned on feeling dads muscles beneath the skin, making him think very naughty thoughts about how strong his dad must be…

after a few weeks of their very special time together, dad feels that he can go to the next step of his sons training. of course that’s learning about those special parts between their legs. dad doesn’t touch son…yet. dad just gently guides his sons hand down between his thighs, cooing softly into his ear as he shows his boy how to rub little circles around his clit.

mayhaps dad doesn’t let his son touch him either, but makes him watch as he pulls his cock out from his boxers. son is just starstruck by it, watching as his dad pumps his fat throbbing cock in those big hands of his…precum slowly dripping down the thighs of his shaft. maybe dad encourages them both to touch themselves in front of each other. just some nice father som bonding, nothing wrong with that.

hh this is gotten rly long so I’ll end it here today :3 will be sending more asks in the future tho! im glad u like my writing!! im very horny n depraved :3

i loveeeeeee this <3 dadson anon i eagerly await your return i'm blushing reading all this ^//^ dad being so so careful not to do too much too soon, slowly warping his boy's mind into thinking it's all normal... sighs dreamily. love it <3

[ittlll]

I know it sounds ridiculous but part of me can’t help but think of ghost who loves Lana Del Rey. Without any doubt he is one of the most tough guys in the world and has the most rational mindset humans can have. But does it mean he is lacking in sensibility? Definitely not.

I guess he will read poems and give his own annotations to the emotion between the lines. He takes it as a way to balance his cruel job and his inner self. He tends to always take anything in charge, including his mental health, to make sure his life is always on the right track and run like clockwork, more precisely, Haute Horlogerie. It’s just some kind of his *aesthetic*, he wants a quality life. So he does not reject sensuality.

Back to Lana Del Ray, I would rather believe he started with the great Gatsby and so Young and Beautiful. Of course he watch movies, alone or with his team at those movie nights. They chose action movies forever, but one day Soap changed his mind. He picked the classic movie. Ghost doesn't usually give any comment on his choices and just watches the film quietly .

He was *shocked* when he heard the song, even though he didn't show a hint. Maybe he would judge Gatsby for the way he loved, but he completely understood his feeling through the melody, lyrics, and the voice of Siren. He glanced at the Scotsman next to him, who was so gripped of the film, and moved his eyes back to the screen making no sign. He failed to read what he was thinking, maybe the same as him, maybe not.

He found himself falling in so quickly. He favors the soothing ones like Old Money, Chemtrails Over The Country Club and so on. But will he listen to Lolita or Breaking my heart? He won't initiate it, but he'll usually play the list randomly.

He enjoyed afternoon tea with wired headset. Tea was also part of his life art. Warm 2pm sunlight shone into the lounge. Soap woke up from his nap, looking around and finding ghost in the old single sofa. That had almost been his exclusive seat. Every afternoon, as long as he was in the barrack, he would sit up here on time for a while. Sometimes he read, sometimes he meditated.Today he listened to something.

“What are you listening?” Soap was not so sure that guy can actually hear him.

“Nothing.”Text Book, perfect one for the tea time.

“Imagine Dragons I bet.”

Ghost took off one side, turning to him.

“Really, Johnny?”

Soap eventually found the answer through his in-car music. Summertime Sadness. Soap froze as the song played in the quiet car. Jesus, the big black guy, having killed countless people, even had limited edition CDs of Lana Del Rey to fit his old jeep whose audio was still a CD player. What a world.

“Feels like I never know you, Lt.”

“Never.”

“Don’t be so casual about never or forever , Si.”Soap was on his passenger seat, he looked into the brownie-coloured eyes in the rear-view mirror, “Now I know you’re hiding so much interesting things. Learn a little bit every day, and one day I will get them all.”

“Those words could go into song lyrics.”Ghost smiled under the mask.

Oh my god' I feel it in the air,

Telephone wires above,

Are sizzlin' like a snare,

Honey I'm on fire' I feel it everywhere,

Nothin' scares me anymore.

[milashaluna]

Rin Itoshi is like your husband

🫐 Rin hates fighting more than anything else in the world. For him, any conflict in your family is tantamount to a lack of understanding, which you can only come to after many years of living together. It's actually damn hard for him to express his emotions and sometimes, there's no way to see behind the cold facade of what he's really feeling and you're hurt the most. It's better to just shut down again, to create distance between you, than to openly express your feelings. It will take time for him to learn to build a dialogue instead of running away from the problem, and for you to understand that there is something more behind his aloof appearance.

🫐 Because of his unstable self-esteem, he needs to be constantly reminded that you love and need him. Yeah, that's tough. Especially considering the fact that he'll never ask for it out loud. But, over time, you've learnt to notice the peculiar "bells" that actually just shout out how much Rin needs confirmation of your feelings. He becomes more intrusive and follows you around in a dark shadow. The privilege of the angry dog is your husband, who is two heads taller than you and scares away everyone around him because right now he needs all your attention.

🫐 Sometimes his jealousy goes over the edge, making you feel like you're trapped in a golden cage with no way to escape. In fact, he has no idea how to deal with it, and the best course of action seems to be to limit your contact with anyone who arouses suspicion, even if it ends up in another scandal. To herself, Rin calls it a black streak and if it's not stopped in time, it can indeed lead to frightening consequences.

🫐 Itoshi doesn't mind open displays of affection at all. He likes to hold your hand during a press conference or after a special successful match, to kiss you in front of all the fans. One way or another, his gaze in the crowd always seeks your eyes. It brings him calm and reassurance that everything is all right, and the stony expression on his face instantly cracks as soon as your fingers carefully remove a few strands of hair that have fallen into his face.

🫐At some point, his venomous jealousy comes out in the fact that during intimacy, Rin takes great care to leave his "marks" on the most visible parts of his skin: his neck, collarbones, wrists-all covered with his hickeys and bite marks. A silent reminder of who you belong to.

🫐 The first few years he had trouble remembering actual important dates, like your wedding anniversary or even your birthday. This caused mixed emotions. At first resentment and you cried a lot, taking his absent-mindedness personally, swearing and getting angry until you came to realise: it's just part of your husband's character. In fact, Rin's head is constantly cluttered with information, among which many things get lost. But in order not to upset you any more, Itoshi has figured out to mark his calendar on his phone, so that a fresh bouquet of flowers will be waiting for you on the anniversary of your first kiss.

Please write in the comments if you got better, and should I keep writing? I'm not English and I don't speak good English, so please don't criticise if there are mistakes in there.

[straycalamities]

sometimes i see people say (more commonly in regards to shipping bray but this isn't a bray-defense post, it's a very general gripe) that it's hard for them to picture brian's dynamic with characters because "he had like five scenes"

and that leads into my pet-peeve of people treating the brian and hoody situation as the same as tim and masky. regardless of if you subscribe to the Masky-Is-An-Alter theory or not, it's definitely not the same. if you even just look at it in the way that the operator clearly affected every single character differently. from alex-to tim-to brian-to jay-to jessica.

the thing is...hoody is still brian. there's a lot of traits of brian's you can still read in hoody's choices and behavior even if they've been warped in some cases or the intent is different in others. if you follow the strings back, you can get a clue, even through hoody, how brian thomas was himself

the operator didn't brainwash or change him to something he wasn't capable of being, a different person entirely. the operator doesn't work like that. the operator twists and pulls out or pushes back what's Already There. it messes with your perceptions and relies heavily on isolation and paranoia so you get the extreme cases with people who maybe didn't even have a lick of paranoia or trust-issues or problems making friends.

that's not even a theory. we literally see it happen over time in alex and jay.

that's not to say that who the operator makes them become is 100% them, like clearly there's interference there, but i am saying it's all based on existing traits, flaws, priorities, etc.

so hoody is still brian, he's just a very very wounded and broken version of brian pushed to limits he never dreamed he'd have to hit. to say brian only got 5 scenes is just incorrect. he was a major supporting character the entire time and even got an entire comic issue (that ALSO heavily reinforces my point in my opinion. that's why i didn't reference it. 1. to avoid spoilers but also 2. because you can find all the clues even in the youtube webseries. just like lots of other things about brian that 3.5 just makes obvious and spells out But The Clues Were Already There) (the same as alex. it's just alex never gets another name. he's alex the whole time so then we get the OPPOSITE problem of people assuming operatorified alex is how alex always was and that's not true either. you can, of course, still see aspects of himself in there, but it's the same thing. while it's based off pieces of him, he's still being coerced and pressured by an outside force <- clarifying so it doesn't come off like i'm villainizing alex as a person because i'm not. nothing's as easy as that in marble hornets and that's why i love it. but that also still can mean both alexs are alex. and both brian and hoody are brian. but brian also resists the influence so alex got Full Operator'd compared to brian)

[rebel-wrath]

Voice, POV, and tense

I saw a definition of narrative voice that stated voice is the description and character thoughts and actions. Basically, everything not dialogue, which is Character Voice.

I disagree. Those things are narration. Narative Voice is the decisions writers make that influence narration. For a lot of writers, those decisions are only tense and point-of-view.

POV

OMNISCIENT

Newbie writers are often warned not to use the omniscient viewpoint. Reasons are often not given. The reasons are simple.

It is hard to use right

It's often used wrong

Because of the sheer volume of new writers getting it wrong, a lot of places give this advice. I think giving advice on how to do it right would be much more beneficial, so that's what I'm going to do.

What is the omniscient viewpoint?

It is a 3rd person viewpoint. It is different from the 3rd person limited POV that is currently the most common in fiction because the limited viewpoint is restricted to one character per scene. A lot of people think the omniscient viewpoint is invested in several characters, but this is a common misconception.

This viewpoint is, instead, in the head of a God-like being. This being floats over the scene. It can enter the heads of any character in the scene. It has vast benefits over all the other viewpoints, but it has weaknesses, too.

The key to the successful use of this God-view is knowing it's strengths and weaknesses.

If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it fall, does it make a sound?

Who knows?

If you want to write about a tree falling when no one is around, or if you want to write about the formation of a wormhole leading to another universe, or the inner workings of a vast steampunk machine, or indeed anywhere that there is no character (and thus, no possible POV to be your camera) you can use omniscient.

This is one of the strengths of the omniscient viewpoint; use it when there is no one else around.

Limited Omniscient

This one is less a god-like being, and more a camera. It doesn't go in anyone's head, it just records what it sees.

It is commonly used in the Mystery Prologue. If you've read a mystery, you'll know what I'm talking about. The murder scene that the detective later has to solve. You have the killer, and the victim. You can't tell the scene from the victim's point-of-view, unless you're happy with him becoming a ghost halfway through. You can't tell the story from the murderer's point-of-view, either. You need him to remain anonymous (otherwise it isn't much of a mystery).

Limited omniscient viewpoint is the common answer. Of course, not all mysteries have a prologue. Dresden Files spring to mind as one (series) that doesn't.

Old Style

When writing about steampunk, some writers like to write in a Victorian manner. Personally, I don't (my readers aren't Victorians, after all) but if you do, remember that they primarily wrote in omniscient. See Jane Austen for examples of the Old Style.

Little Did he Know...

...he'd be dead by morning. This is a type of writing where the narrator reveals things the character can't possibly know. This is done to great effect in Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, where he reveals things that are to come. When they actually come to pass, however, they are revealed to be totally different than expected.

Pratchetterian

Okay, so I don't know what else to call this. Terry Pratchett has his own omniscient style where jokes are a large (and awesome) part of the narration. I don't advise you to try and copy it, but if you can, go for it. There are any number of horror writers, epic fantasy writers, etc. There's only one Terry Pratchett, though if you loved his work, check out my Noun of Noun and Adjective.

So, how do we use omniscient?

There are tricks to using omniscient properly.

Don't go into someone's head unless you have to. Action scenes and descriptive passages are better told from the God POV.

When you do go into someone's head, don't go in too deep. A light brushing of surface thoughts should suffice. If you go in deep, it is harder to come back out.

If you reveal the future (a la Lemony Snicket) be aware that constantly revealing what is coming will leach away tension.

If you change characters too quickly, it is head-hopping. Head-hopping is baaad! However, you can slowly change characters as long as you don't go deep, and you signpost the change.

Omniscient tells more than it shows, and telling is baaad, too. Except for all the times it's not.

It is the most impersonal viewpoint, and can make it harder for the readers to care about the characters.

3RD PERSON

Third person point-of-view focuses on one person, though it can change character with scene or chapter breaks. It refers to the character by name or 3rd person pronoun. Benefits of a 3rd person narrator include

can switch between characters

can reveal information to readers before it is revealed to protagonist

it's easier to write than omniscient, harder to get wrong, and easier to spot errors

more empathic than omniscient

But it is limited in that you are stuck with a single viewpoint.

1ST PERSON

First person point-of-view feels like it is becoming the most common in YA. The narration is by the character that is focused on. First person pronouns are used. Benefits of a 1st person narrator include

gets deep inside characters head

allows personality to permeate every aspect of story

much more empathetic

MIXED STYLES

Some writers mix it up, maybe with an omniscient prologue and then a story in 3rd or 1st, or mix it with some chapters in 3rd and some in 1st. If doing this, keep it consistent within scenes or chapters and only switch when there are breaks in the story.

2ND PERSON

Uses second person pronouns, so the reader is the character. Rare, difficult to pull off, and usually considered avant-garde or experimental.

TENSE

PAST

The most common tense used in stories, it relates the events as if they have already happened.

PRESENT

Also common, it relates events as if they are happening now. Personally, I hate reading first person, so I'm not doing pro's and con's or explaining that the obviously much better past tense is best, because I'm biased.

FUTURE

Rare and experimental, it relates events that haven't happened yet as if they will.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

[quietwingsinthesky]

the apartmentverse urge to make the assassins weird immortals due to interacting with the apple who all survive to the modern day and have to Deal with mundane things like public transport…

[sysig]

CAN I DO ANOTHER ONE FOR THE MEME maybe DAX with yellow 1B just because i like seeing him cry lol. and maybe ZEX with yellow 4C? PAIN AND SUFFERING or yellow A2 lol i can't decide

Then perish (From here, meme still open ♥)