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solelifauna · 5 months ago

Note

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

#batfamily #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #john constantine #yandere john constantine (kinda)#batfamily x neglected reader #batman #batfam #batfamily x reader #justice leauge dark

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critterbitter · 1 year ago

Note

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 9 months ago

Note

I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally 🤭🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural.

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no' just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it.

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror.

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively.

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave.

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!”

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling.

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time.

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror.

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

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ghouljams · 4 months ago

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Just saw your post about gaz spearing a seal and ending up with a selkie on his door.

But what if Gaz is the selkie and reader/oc is the sailor who helps a injured seal. They come home only to find a beautiful fur on their porch. They being pure of heart and dumb of ass think well must be my lucky day! Never realizing they just accepted selkie!Gaz's marriage proposal. They just find him in the kitchen making breakfast (which is just uncooked fish he caught) like "hi I'm your new husband."

Reader is very confused and kinda scared cause a strange NAKED man is in their house who might be delulu. (No seriously all hes wearing is that nice fur coat reader found yesterday) So of course they go to the only person in town they can trust the light house keeper Price.

But Price is just like well you accepted his proposal so now your stuck with him unless he decides to leave. Reader begs him to talk to selkie!Gaz cause they're way to scared and plus Price always had a thing for reader. Price ends up meeting selkie!Gaz and being like welp guess I gotta wife him and reader up. Selkie!Gaz is on board and reader is now trapped with 2 husband's. Mission failed successfully!

Anyway it's just fluff and domestic stuff along with teaching selkie!Gaz how to be human. (And maybe a bit of obsession sprinkled in) All the while reader is trying to figure out how to get outta this poly relationship they ended up in.

Ok but Fisherman!Gaz who feels so bad about spearing that seal, he knows it's against code and he's usually so careful, but accidents happen. He looks everywhere trying to find the thing, trying to make sure he didn't accidentally kill it, but he can't even find a whisker. So he goes home, assumes it swam away, and hopes the poor thing doesn't wash up on the beach in the morning.

Except instead of a seal washing up on the beach he opens his door to a beautiful, very naked, you on his front porch, glaring at him and grasping your shoulder as blood pours from it.

Honestly he's more shocked by the nudity than the wound, and even more surprised when you open that pretty mouth to start swearing at him. Suddenly he understands why Soap goes on and on about their mean birds, about the women that just fucking despise him, why Ghost keeps going back to his situationship despite their bad attitude. There is something purring in his chest that warns "keep yelling pet, you'll get yours" with a delight he hasn't felt before.

But Gaz knows the game, he's a charmer, so instead of pinning you to his front porch and making you scream for a different reason, he hustles you inside and sits your (bare) ass on his kitchen table to go grab his first aid kit.

You keep insisting that this is the absolutely LEAST he can do for you, and he thoroughly agrees. Why don't you stay for dinner, spend the night, here take his clothes, let him hand up that lovely fur coat you keep clutching to your chest every time he looks at you. No? That's fine love, it's getting cold out, may as well be warm, yeah?

He's just going to snap a quick photo of you, just so he has a reference for your wound as it heals. Oh, no, you'll absolutely have to stay here while it heals. Swimming? Better not, just stay in the house and rest until Gaz gets back.

Never mind that he locks you inside.

You still have your seal skin, right? So don't worry that pretty head of yours over anything else. Wandering hands, sharing a bed, spreading your legs for dessert, Gaz is just doing exactly what you told him to, paying you back for whatever he did to you.

#cod x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick cod #gaz garrick x reader #f!reader

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corazondebeskar-reads · 1 year ago

Text

of rage and ruin - chapter one

of rage and ruin series

chapter one

series masterlist | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, gore, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

This is a werewolf omegaverse fic that uses traditional and non-traditional elements of the genres. It largely ignores TLOU canon.

DISCLAIMER: A plotline of this story involves unethical medical care and human experimentation re: vaccines. It may give anti-vax vibes. This is NOT an anti-vax story and I do not want any related discourse please and thank you. This is about FEDRA being the absolute worst, not about the real world in any way.

In a rare moment of lucidity, he thinks he used to be human, once.

He’s partially transformed more often than not. Almost never fully, unless he’s under the sway of the moon. His real keeper.

These raiders may think they own him, but he knows the truth.

But lucidity is rare, and most of the time, Joel Miller is more beast than man.

Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s Joel Miller.

No matter what, though, he’s a nearly uncontrollable force of nature.

That’s why they keep a shock collar around his neck and tasers at their waists. That’s why they never turn their backs or leave him unrestrained. He fought like hell for a long time until he broke.

No shame in it, he knows. Everyone breaks eventually.

As the years have gone on, though, he’s been getting restless and snippy, less cooperative. And the pain doesn’t really matter anymore.

Nothin’ really does when you’ve given up.

On the last new moon, when the wolf was quiet and the man was loud, he’d tried to refuse. He sat, buck-ass naked, on the gritty wood floor of the house they were raiding.

He did not sniff out treasure like some fucking metal detector. He did not tear the humans limb from limb. He did not feast.

He paid for that night and had the receipts to prove it, laid into his back from the silver-tipped whip.

He should have tried harder to die at the start.

He hadn’t understood right away, when they took him. It, frankly, didn’t even cross his mind that they’d know. Laura, the woman in the woods, had been so sure it was secret.

He got it when they shot him in the leg with a BB gun, though, and the silver shrapnel burned. They were prepared. Silver-coated chains and cuffs, silver-tipped batons and whips and knives. Cattle prods and electric collars.

They’d been hunting him.

They tried to break him easy, first. They were looking for a wolf; didn’t know they’d find Joel Miller. They left him chained in an abandoned suburb, giving him just the minimum food and water to keep him alive.

It worked to weaken him, but they didn’t want him weak forever. Not a very good guard dog or weapon if he can’t lift his head. So when that didn’t work, when he didn’t beg and plead or bend the knee, they gave up and bulked him back up slowly.

So they tried pain next.

He came to know the healing as a curse. They avoided the silver, at least at first, since it’d leave damage. But when they found out they could break his bones over and over and over?

That’s when he started to wish he was dead. What was the point, anyway? He couldn’t go back to Boston. Couldn’t risk himself around Tommy and Tess.

Couldn’t kill himself if he tried, but they could, with their arsenal.

Didn’t matter what he wanted in the end; his brain wouldn’t give in. It overrode his silent pleas, and it fought and fought and fought.

So they took him on a raid. Starving, chained under the full moon, and they waited. He couldn’t go far, but he didn’t have to.

They brought the food to him.

“You’ve no control over it, huh?” Cheryl said after, leering into his “room.” They send her to play nice, but he knows she’s the worst of them all. They just think he’ll smell pussy and roll over. “We didn’t need you to kill them. You just need to scare them and help us find what we’re lookin’ for.”

They had him. He knows, he knows, he knows. He’d have done anything to stop it from happening again. From devouring tied-up families who dared to say “no” to Jim and his crew. From throwing up blood and bones and bows.

He can’t kill himself. They won’t kill him. He had no choice.

He broke.

This new moon, they don’t take him out to scavenge. No, instead, they drag him outside and spray him down with the hose. This, in itself, is not unusual. But when they force the muzzle over his snapping teeth to scrub at his skin with precious lye soap and a rag, he starts to get concerned.

His suspicions are confirmed when they take him back inside.

The only time he’s left unbound is here, in his room. Well. It meets the vague requirements for a room, but it’s also reinforced with silver-plated steel and concrete. Cheaply so, but enough to mute his senses and hopes.

Usually, they wait until the grate is shut to unclip the lead. They wait until he kneels and offers his hands to unlock the shackles. When he’s been good, of course.

But not today. Today, they chain him tight to the wall at the far end of the room.

They’ve had this theory that he hates to admit is not without merit. Looking for another way to control him, they’ve tried to find him an omega.

The first few times, they just forced him on them out wherever they’ve raided. Usually, he’s too out of control, and they don’t survive the encounter.

The most recent time, they dumped one in his cell. But the poor thing still smelled of his alpha, having only lost them hours earlier.

Joel didn’t react well.

They’re trying something new, now.

That he’s here while they clean his room is deliberate. He knows this. They’re purging all his scent from it, and they want him to watch, want him unsettled.

He growls when they remove his mattress completely. It’s a pathetically small, thin, hole-ridden thing, but it’s his.

Before they drag in a new one, a flat pack of grated metal is tossed in the corner. Two of his captors go to work on assembling the contraption, and another leaves for a while, only to return with a sawed-off portion of his mattress.

It fits neatly inside the cage. For that’s what they’ve constructed. It’s silver-coated, of course, but pathetically weak otherwise. If he truly desired, he could snap the bars as easily as bone.

He’s not keen on having burnt hands, though.

Just inside the front of the cage, they clip up a bit of cloth. He doesn’t need to be told what it is, knowing immediately after it’s extracted from the airtight glass Tupperware.

They tell him anyway. “Got a new toy for you to try, if you’re good. For now, this is all you get.”

The heady scent of omega soaked into the panties permeates his room.

He’s salivating a little by the time they finally release him, but he waits until the heavy footfalls echo from down the hall to give in.

They smell divine. He can’t resist tasting, lapping at the tiniest hint of musk and omega under his elongated tongue.

“Told ya he would have shredded her,” Jim says to Cheryl when they come in the morning with his breakfast. Joel’s in his mind enough to feel a little shame, back of his neck burning, when they see the tattered fabric.

It’s clear they anticipated it because, along with his tray, he’s given a new pair.

They’re not so appealing this time. The sweet scent is cut by acidic fear like vinegar through molasses. He ignores them in favor of his meal.

He eats better here than he ever did out there. He’s worth more rations to the raiders than to FEDRA. Robust meals full of meat and eggs and potatoes.

They need him strong, after all.

It’s not until a few hours later that he’s drawn back in by the underwear. It’s not so acrid anymore. Or maybe it is, and he’s just in the mood. Either way, he buries his face in them while he strokes his cock and uses them to catch his cum when he finishes.

There. That’s better. The mix of him with… whoever you are.

When they bring him lunch, they make him put the panties on his old tray before pushing it out to them. He doesn’t burn with shame this time; no, he almost feels proud. Like a peacock fluffing out its feathers. They know now. They must.

Whoever you are, you’re his.

The next day, they bring back the same pair. He wolfs out a little at the fresh layer of you over his cum. It’s all fear and tears and disgust, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all, not to him, not to the wolf.

All that matters is how his head fills with static when he licks across the gusset and howls.

Cheryl’s looking pretty smug on the other side of the door, but for all that she’s pleased with the results; they still threaten to turn on the collar if he doesn’t eat quickly.

He’s nearly fully wolf, gobbling down the food and returning to his treasure. He snarls as he strokes his cock, the head angry and purple as he tugs. He doesn’t spill onto the panties this time, not wanting to cover up the perfect combination of your scents. In the end, they’re shredded anyway, as his fingers stretch and break into claws.

In his full glory, his senses are even sharper. Sharp enough that he can hear a faint sobbing across the building and Cheryl’s sharp laughter.

“I don’t know,” she’s drawling when he tunes in. “He sounds pretty excited to meet you.”

The soft sobbing turns raw and cracked. He can smell the salt and phlegm, can practically taste it in the air. He’s aware of Cheryl, but nothing is louder than the way your heart is tripping over itself.

When Cheryl’s words sink in, when he realizes he might actually get to have whatever delicious creature they’ve gotten him, he howls again, a long, aching sound that creeps down your bones like frost.

Later, when he’s a little more present, he realizes they didn’t shock him either time he howled. It’s usually a guarantee.

Whatever game they’re playing, it doesn’t bode well for you.

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He wasn’t even worried when it happened. They’d been heading back to the QZ, him and Tommy and Tess, when a wild dog attacked them.

Or, well. A wolf.

Tommy had gotten a bullet in its head, but it had Joel’s arm in its jaw at the time. Its teeth had rent through his jacket like a spoon in a banana split.

FEDRA would shoot him without a second thought, so they doubled back to the little cabin and hunkered down. Figured they’d lay low long enough for it to be hideable before sneaking back in.

Tommy went out at daybreak for the carcass—it’d be leagues better than what they had in their bags. When he came back, he was faint and empty-handed.

“...don’t make any sense,” he kept muttering, pacing the tiny kitchenette.

Joel and Tess exchanged a glance.

“Probably a bear took it,” she suggested.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, shook his head, and did it again. When he looked up at them, it was through wild, unpredictable eyes. “Wasn’t a wolf. It was a man.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joel said.

“C’mon.”

They followed him through the thicket, and sure as shit, in the same place the wolf’s corpse had lain was a man with a bullet through his skull. He was completely nude.

“Gotta be a coincidence,” Joel muttered.

Tommy turned to him, eyes wide and hands shaking. “What kind of fucking coincidence is this?”

There was a rustle, and they all turned, guns raised, as a woman peeked from behind a tree.

She put her hands up and waited. Tess jerked her head to one side, and they lowered but did not stow their weapons.

The woman was in a ratty cotton dress with no shoes; autumn leaves crunching underfoot.

“That’s, um. That’s my husband,” she said softly.

“Apologies, ma’am,” Tommy said, his face soft and sad. “But—I think he attacked us.”

Her green eyes grew wide, pupils dilating and breath catching in her chest. “Did you get bit?”

Tommy and Tess instinctually looked at Joel.

“What’s it to ya?” he said.

“Did you get bit?” she repeated.

“Was he Infected?”

“Not with cordyceps, no,” she says. She avoids looking at the body but flinches when she brushes a foot against a blood-soaked leaf.

“What does that mean?” Tommy said.

“I think it’s best we go someplace and talk.”

Against better judgment, they follow her through the words to her home. She claims to have two kids alone there, four years and six months.

It turns out to be true. She gets them both down for a nap and serves hot stew. They try to refuse, but she insists.

Tommy feels a little sick eating the food of a man he killed. They all listen, rapt, as she begins to speak.

“It happened a year ago. But it wasn’t an accident.”

When the full moon is two days away, Joel is nearing the furthest from himself. Same shit, different month, but his reactions to your scent are getting, well, feral.

They’re bringing him strips of cloth, now. He gets a new one with each meal. He doesn’t destroy them anymore. Oh, no. When he’s clearer, he wishes he did.

But no. He smells and licks and then jerks off with them. If only that were the worst of it. He’ll come to be mortified during the waning, but he starts to add them to the cage. It’s fairly saturated with the smell of him from his old mattress, but it pleases the beast within to line it with the sweet mixture soaked into the torn sheets.

You’ll understand, then, the wolf thinks. You’ll know it’s safe for you. Somewhere he’s made, a den all your own where he can keep you.

But you won’t know, because what you know is very little.

When FEDRA started asking for volunteers to test vaccines, you didn’t hesitate. You knew the risks. And the rewards—room and rations for the length of the observation period, anywhere up to a year in length. You knew there would be a catch—probably many, but given that you rarely had a room or rations, it wasn’t a hard choice.

But this was the end of the world, and “informed consent” was not something that survived the outbreak.

They worked in batches. A truckload of live bodies at a time. Sterilizing showers with the barest trace of privacy, dressed in stiff starchy scrubs, and led into little cubicles where nurses with needles sat in wait.

A quick jab to the upper arm, and then you were off. The hospital was an old correctional facility, but again, for someone who hadn’t had a bed on a reliable basis, you felt only relief.

Until the deaths started.

They didn’t even try to hide it. Within 24 hours of arrival, a fourth of your group was gone. Carted out in black bags marked with β and nothing more said. You watched through your window like everyone else.

Someone came around the next day and drew blood from every remaining subject, and the tagging began after that. You could see the symbols on other’s doors, but not your own. α or Ω. What they meant, you couldn’t begin to guess.

It started not long after.

The changes.

At first it was so subtle, you may not have noticed, but a nurse came by each day to ask you a series of increasingly embarrassing questions.

What do you smell? What do I smell like? What does your sweat smell like? How sensitive are your breasts? Describe your vaginal discharge. How aroused are you on a scale of 1-10?

They began weekly tests. Blood draws once a week and daily urine samples, of course, but also hearing and vision. They made you run on a treadmill hooked up to wires.

And then, one day, after six months of intensive observation, they moved you.

Or. They tried to.

You were exhibiting a specific set of side effects, they said. You were to be transferred to another facility for subjects with the same side effects for further observation.

Raiders took out the truck halfway through the ten-hour journey. It was… it was a bloodbath, actually. For the FEDRA officers, anyway.

When they had you all lined up, grippy socks soaking in the ankle-deep mud, well, that was when you all learned which symbol was on your door. They couldn’t keep the word out of their mouths. Omega.

Not that it fucking explained anything.

One by one, a short blonde with a bob went down the line of you and shoved something up to each omega’s face. That’s it. It seemed to have no greater purpose.

But for some reason, when she pressed the cloth against your nose and mouth, she smiled. And they separated you.

Whatever that was had a deep, oaky musk, like the illicit brewery operating out of the warehouse you often slept in before the trials.

They tell you nothing.

They make you sleep on strips of cloth, so you roll around in the pile as you toss and turn, rubbing your sweat and slick and pheromones all over.

They don’t bring you anything of his, but you catch faint whiffs of him (him, always him, they never call him by a name), of those aged, liquor-soaked barrels, but all it does is make you nauseous. You don’t understand how you know it’s him; you still don’t understand any of it.

You learn very quickly not to ask questions.

They take him out on the night the moon is full and bloated, hanging over him like a searchlight. See, it whispers, I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. If it didn’t, the wolf would find it anyway.

He is not himself.

He is his truest self.

He is two or one; neither yet both. A monster movie mashup of fur and teeth and roughshod science experiments conducted by a doctor who wasn’t a doctor at all. He’s the monster’s victim. He’s the monsters’ monster.

He’s the wolf and the wolf is him.

He’s The Wolf and he’s swallowed Joel down.

He’s the man, the weak link, buried so deep he can’t see the light of his celestial mistress

He’s Joel Miller. Sometimes, sometimes.

Tonight, he is gone. There is only the Wolf.

And the Wolf knows. As soon as they cross the threshold, he knows.

Dawn is rising, the hunt is over, but he’ll be the wolf for a while longer. And he knows that fuckin’ smell.

It’s the saccharine sour mix of you. Heavy on your sweet apple undertones, and oh, he knows.

You’re in the cage.

next chapter

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

😬 I've been working on this baby for a long, long time, so I will be drinking your likes and comments desperately. thank you for reading and i love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #dead dove fic #a/b/o verse #fic: of rage and ruin #a/b/o au

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burningembers91 · 20 days ago

Text

Money Makes the World Go Round - Suh Seok-Woo x Fem!Reader

tagging: @shittyprofilebutfuckit

Synopsis: Consumed by his role as a Fund Manager, Suh Seok-Woo hires you to care for his daughter and mother. But when you seem to know more about his own family than he does, will Seok-Woo be willing to change? Or will he discard you, his beautiful house keeper, just like he discarded everyone else he's ever cared for.

A/N: Every time i watch this film, I go through a rollercoaster of emotions with this character. He's such a selfish shit in the beginning, but so selfless at the end, and that's the vibe i'm going for.

Suh Seok-Woo was a selfish bastard, unashamedly so. He’d been that way his whole life, for reasons his own mother couldn’t quite fathom. Everything he did, he did with himself at the forefront of his mind. It was why he was so good at his job, why he didn’t flinch when he had to tell people that their life savings had disappeared, simply because the market had changed. “You knew the risks when you chose to invest,” he’d explain, not bothering to keep the bored tone from his voice as he listened to his clients sob down the phone, begging him for help. If people didn’t understand the risks, they shouldn’t invest; it wasn’t rocket science.

It wasn’t that Seok-Woo didn’t care about people; he was just very selective about those he chose to give his time to. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter, sparing no expense for her happiness, buying her all the latest toys and tech, making sure all her clothes were designer and bang on trend. He opened his home to his ailing mother, giving her a life of luxury when she’d spent most of hers looking after him. His daughter and his mother were Seok-Woo’s world, and he simply didn’t have time for anyone else. It was why his marriage hadn’t lasted, why his ex-wife had upped and left, demanding half of everything even though he was the one who had worked hard to provide her with the lifestyle she’d become so accustomed to. She’d spent 8 years leeching off him, and he refused to entertain her any longer. That was why Seok-Woo was selfish; he’d learned at an early age that there were people who gave, and people who took. People who gave were fools, taken advantage of and bled dry due to their misguided attempts to be good people. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and he wasn’t sharing anything with those who didn’t deserve it.

Funding the lifestyle he wanted came at a price though. He barely saw his daughter, out of the house before she woke up, and returning home long after she’d gone to bed. It was a small price to pay though, and he was sure Soo-An was grateful for the gifts he often left her. His mother tried to tell him that his daughter needed her father, but Seok-Woo had explained many times that he worked hard to provide his little girl with everything she could possibly want. He even hired the best housekeeper, someone who took care of things day to day, provided only the best care for his daughter and mother, and someone who could help Soo-Ann with her schoolwork and extra-curricular activities.

You’d come highly recommended by the agency, your qualifications exemplary. You kept Seok-Woo’s home in working order, making sure he wanted for nothing. You cared for him family, providing Soo-An with the love and stability that her father didn’t realise was lacking. You loved his little girl, and his mother too, but you couldn’t stand the man who paid you to take care of his home. It astounded you that Seok-Woo couldn’t see his daughter didn’t want the latest gaming console, or the newest pair of sneakers that she’d outgrow in a few months anyway. All she wanted was for her dad to be there for her, to ask her about her day and attend her school performances. He couldn’t see that his mother’s arthritis was getting worse, that some days even the most basic of tasks were near impossible for her. You’d thought a few times about leaving, but if you didn’t look after them, who would?

Seok-Woo was rude, and conceited, so wrapped up in his own world that he didn’t have time for anyone else. Your daily conversations took place each morning and night, where he would tell you what he needed doing, and you’d debrief him on daily events. Sometimes you wondered whether you were his housekeeper, or his personal assistant. He was so cold, so aloof, and yet so strikingly handsome that it floored you every time you looked at him. You couldn’t understand how a many with the sweetest, warmest eyes could be the coldest person.

You often assumed Seok-Woo didn’t notice you, that you were nothing more than a faceless presence that kept his home and family in order; but that wasn’t true. You were beautiful, and whenever he spoke to his mother and daughter, they consistently sang your praises. Seok-Woo often added little bonuses on to your paychecks, to let you know he thought you were doing an excellent job. The extra money never went unnoticed, but it annoyed you that your boss couldn’t just outright tell people that he was grateful for them.

“Thank you for the extra money,” you said to him one night. “No problem.” He was already engrossed in his phone, responding to emails despite fact it was 11pm. “I may be speaking out of line here, but you don’t always need to give people something to show how you feel. Sometimes it’s just nice to hear that you think we’re doing a good job.” Seok-Woo looked at you, confusion plastered to his face. Gifts, money, that’s what people wanted. No one ever got anywhere by hearing something nice said about them. You could see he didn’t understand, so you tried a different approach. “Soo-An would really like you to go to her next recital. She’d rather you were there to watch her sing. She doesn’t want another Nintendo Switch, or a new dress.”

The two of you stood staring at each other, the ticking of the kitchen clock the only sound in the room. You’d overstepped the mark, you could tell, but you’d never met anyone as emotionally unavailable as Seok-Woo. “Sorry,” you mumbled, “I was out of line. Goodnight, Mr Suh.” You headed off into your room, leaving Seok-Woo staring at the space where you’d just stood. No one had ever told him they didn’t want something, especially when it was money. He thought back to all the gifts he’d given Soo-An, all the new Nintendo games, and clothes, and new dolls. She’d always said thank you, but her smile had never reached her eyes. His mother had always been grateful for the jewellery that he given her, but had she really wanted it? When he’d fought with his ex, he’d made it up to her with gifts, but never once said sorry.

Maybe you were right. Maybe it was only him who needed material goods to be happy. But when he’d spent his whole life focused on nothing but riches, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to change.

#train to busan x reader #train to busan #suh seok woo #suh seok woo x you #suh seok woo x reader #gong yoo

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shurup-overt · 2 months ago

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don't ever let go of what's beloved

these bastards made me cry! THRICE!!

@mari-lair I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart, also this will be LONG. I'm sorry skdjkls

SPOILERS UP TO CH27 BELOW

(not super detailed but still can ruin the experience)

I'VE FINALLY read ycit after half a year of putting it off it just because I "didn't like the idea of akane being dead&doomed" skslsks I was wayy too superstitious. anyway I'm glad I stopped being stubborn

IT WAS HELL OF A RIDE (positive) and I finished it (27 chapters at that moment) looking like nene in ch107

I'm not even joking

where do I even begin.

the amount of research and thought and love poured into the fic is INSANE. it's always so nice to feel the author's passion through the work and this one overflows with it.

am I being too sappy? I dunno, I speak what's on my mind lol!!

as I said, it's noticeable that it's written with so so much love to the characters and this love is INFECTIOUS!! I didn't know I'd get attached to aka, so fast too. it's like my thought process was almost the same as teru's all the way through chapters 0-20 lmaoo

a small digression from the main topic - the thing is, what I wait for the most in tbhk is a flashback about terukane's first meeting & how the glasses were made. ofc there's always a possibility they were made by teru just for fun and as a way to make akane owe him (although this might be ooc) but the possibility of it is thankfully really really small because teru looks at them and handles the topic very gently. too gently for it to be just a forced prank. also akane has been keeping them with him on his bead near his head while sleeping (not even the bedside table or smth! who the hell keeps their glasses with them on the bed at night?? <- comes from a glasses person)

so, especially because of teru's wording ("he said he wanted to live his life like he used to"), I've been STRESSING over the possibility of akane BEGGING teru for help there, like what if he was struggling with switching forms at first and hence wasn't seen by students? what if the clock keepers didn't explain him almost anything about the supernatural world and so he was scared and confused? what if teru cornered him there and he had to prove he's human? (by the warmth of a touch?) what if he cried? what if teru comforted him? (or tried to lol) what if there were more struggles??

and so I was soo glad to see this topic being expanded!! I know it's an au and all (and the contract's gone worse here) but what I mean is, I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks about it!! reading akane's backstory was Painful As Heck but really Good.

my godd I wish the boy had some comfort. I can't look at ycit akane because I start tearing up immediately.

"I hope akane managed to use the bill" "I hope the seals helped at least a bit" I HOPE SO TOO. JESUS. THE POOR BOY WAS LEFT ALL ALONE WITH A TERRIFYING KNOWLEDGE AND THE TWO DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE TO EACH OTHER PROPERLY

and his backstory hasn't even been fully revealed yet. I feel like I'll die when that time comes. shaking

alright I don't wanna whine here too much now moving on-

this idiot. /affectionate

the attention to the smallest details!!!!

the amount of canon things implemented?? HELLO? I mean it's natural to expect a canon character act according to canon but it's the first time (I think??) I've noticed SO MUCH small facts THOUGHT THROUGH and carefully weaven into the fic to fit the narrative perfectly. sometimes they're really small and almost insignificant but it's like finding easter eggs!!! it fills me with so much joy to feel the love to the kids through the writing (I repeat it again ahahaha). teru's complicated (VERY MUCH SO) feelings towards his father, akane liking raspberry sweets, akane (and aka) liking when pride of a certain someone ( ^^ ) shatters in front of them and their facade falls, teru itching to jump headfirst into research as soon as there's a reason to mess with exorcist tools and invent something (oh I so adore this in canon I can probably ramble about this a lot), teru being eager to play in the snow, teru covering his face when he cries!!!! and that's just the things I remember right now THERE WAS A LOT MORE

it all makes me point at the screen with an "AH!!" expression and think "YES THAT'S MY BOY/GIRL!!"

YAKO AND TSUCHIGOMORI TOO!! I was so glad to see yako being involved so much and her character handled perfectly with all her traits and quirks and sillyness /affectionate hehe I love her so much and although tsuchigomori hasn't showed up as much, reading the scenes with him was a delight as well

also when I said about the passion, I meant not only the love to the fic's main cast, but also the passion to analyze the og medium itself as a whole. (am I making sense? I don't want to sound too creepy) explaining myself: take aka: his character, his quirks, his abilities, his drama, worries and experiences - for it all to be as deep and believable ( = excellent) as it is, it was necessary to take all the smallest bits about ghosts' and supernaturals' mindset we have in canon, be it hanako or sousuke or mitsuba etc, analyze it, and make aka one of their kind but still very much unique and closer to akane than to them, even though he doesn't remember being him. even if you didn't do what I said entirely on purpose, I'm just amazed by how aka is written. it's awesome

squeezes him.

thank you for being the extremely stubborn "leech" you are. mwah

aidairo sadly have given us very little info about exorcism and supernaturals in general (I'm biting the table as we speak) and the way you still took the crumbs, thought them through, added bits here and there, and made it all work perfectly is just amazing. I was overjoyed to read about mimics, other kinds of supernaturals, how spiritual energy feels, how touching a ghost feels in detail, weakening seals, blood pacts, boundaries, etc etc. it's like it's all canon, it doesn't make the reader question it whatsoever, so well-made. I'm clapping.

the description says you've never written a teru pov before and I'd say you nailed it from the very beginning!! you understand his mindset so deeply, reading your works is the best experience. the picky bitch in my ear never goes "he would not say that" and instead is just as amazed as I am

the first chapters before the bonding are HEAVY as heck. they're extremely hard to binge read but I mean this as a good thing. they're extremely painful by just how realistically they are written, so good you can't help but sync with teru and feel the same emotions as he does. And his life is SHIT at that moment so I was SUFFERING with him both the first and the second going through the chapters :'D again though, it's not bad, it's the opposite - it makes the happy moments thrice as good and the overall bonding brings A LOT of warmth. I feel like it healed me in a way after punching me in the stomach 10 chapters in a row

also I love it so much just how much the fic focuses on teru's everyday life before the manga's main plot. I mean, well yeah, it's a 14-15yo teru pov, but still. so detailed, filled me with warmth.

*slaps roof of ycit* this bad boy can fit SO MANY fun ideas and good concepts in it

seriously, the range is insane. a questionnaire, a quarrel (multiple), siblings talk, beach episode, dancing, hugging, both crying, possession?? hello?? BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! summer festival, sleeping on the other, fighting for the other, fighting together, even working in food service together (aka the thing I'd expect out of a trkn fic the least lol). the list goes on. and despite how bizarre and random it sounds out of context, nothing from it feels like a filler, everything fits into the plot perfectly. I have no words mari how are you doing that

ever since I've read the bloodpact chapter, I was worried about how encounters with mimics will go from now on because now aka can go anywhere and, how it was stated before, aka's and a mimic's energy feel the same… the boys will need to come up with a strategy of some sort (which is tricky if mimics learn from the memories) ourghh makes my head hurt! but in a good way. or will mimics struggle picking a target between aka and teru now? what if they're weaker when faced by multiple opponents because of that? that would be fortunate. anyway! mimics leap at the target eventually, so that eases the task. and whether the boys encounter them or not, they will have each other's backs, and it warms my heart.

I've wanderend off the main topic again, oops. as you see, the fic made me think of all sorts of things lol and it's an incredibly good sign.

what if teru did take a picture of the swing set in ch13…..... ourghh I don't even know if it'd be better or worse...... it's over now though, so I'm glad either way

and ch27 has destroyed and rebuilt me several times I think .

I drew this before ch28 but then it came out and oh boy. I don't even know what to say. Good for them. so proud of them

I HAD SEVERAL SONGS FOR THIS but I don't want to make this too overwhelming so I've tried to pick the faves among faves (still kind of failed so . no pressure)

Bullet by Saint Motel (lyrics) for teruaka

The Song with Five Names a.k.a. Soapbox Tao a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government (A.K.A. You Can Never Know) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms (lyrics) for aka - this one may be too extreme. it kinda clicked for me but I might be delusional

quiet room by ewe (has eng subtitles) for teruaka - makes me feel things similar to the ones 'therefore you and me' does

Yakusoku no Overture by Toki Shunichi (akane's VA hehe) - I haven't found a full version of this arrangement on youtube but it should be on spotify? or other streaming platforms I'm pretty sure? sadly, I've only found a russian translation (as unusual as it is lol) so I've tried to adapt it in english here, hope it looks right!

I might be delusional here sdslkds but what's certain is that I enjoyed the fic all the way from the start. thank you for creating this, truly

p.s.: please let me know if I made you in any way uncomfortable. I myself didn't expect to write so much; I only wanted to express my gratitude but this might be overwhelming. (I'm a very anxious person so I felt like I needed to say this sdskldj) you aren't obliged to respond in any way and this isn't me asking you to continue working on the fic. just saying thank you for the things you've made

that's it! wishing you a great day :)

#THIS DECEMBER I'LL REMEMBER WANT YOU TO SEE IT WHEN I DO UUUOURGHRHR #ok I'm normal #consider this an ao3 comment but uhh with pictures #jshk #tbhk #terukane #minamoto teru #aoi akane #go read ycit if you haven't #shurup scribbles

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kissitbttr · 11 months ago

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Can we see some jealous and protective frat!miguel 🙏🏻🙏🏻

miguel is cocky. and he never admits himself of being jealous. why would he when he knows that no one is able to one up to him in any way?

but you beg to differ. always seeming to point out his expression when a guy gets too close to you, burning holes in the back of the stranger’s head. somehow plotting the most gruesome and murderous plot he has in mind.

“shit, shit, o’hara! lay off the grip man! you’re going to break the damn glass!”

miguel hears one of his teammates, groans. snatching the cup from miguel’s hand and not even bothering to hear his protests.

“what—oh, my bad” he lamely responds, gaze returning back to watch you. his girlfriend, laughing at some lame joke being told by a guy in front of you.

he feels betrayed. how could you do this to him?!

“the healthiest way to cope with jealousy is to communicate with your girlfriend, o’hara—healthiest” carlos rolls his eyes at the chocolate haired man who seems to not be listening to a word he says. “but shit, knowing you? chances of a hot giant meteor hitting us right now is far bigger”

“mind your shit, man” miguel frowns deepening at the sight of that fucker checking you out in your outfit,

you’re sexy. there’s no doubt about that. especially in that cheerleading uniform you’re wearing when you just got off the practice.

there is a reason why guys are lining up to be your boyfriend before you and miguel started dating. other than because being extremely beautiful and sickeningly sweet, you have a way of staring into people’s eyes like you’re about to pluck a soul out of them and them not having a problem with it.

i mean, jesus, you got him hooked didn’t you?

“so let’s say he did try to take her home or—“

“didn’t i tell you to mind your shit?!” miguel cuts carlos off with a grumble, not even wanting to imagine if you were getting taken home by another man. not that you’d let them anyway. you’re too crazy about miguel and vice versa,

the buzzcut kid raises his hands up in defense, as if to prove his innocence. “don’t get mad at me for speaking up facts!” with that, he bolts out of the way before miguel could get to him,

it’s not like miguel is one crazy and possessive boyfriend who prefers having his girl all to himself (despite him wanting her to), he still gives access to whomever you want to speak with.

but he just despises the fact that everyone is crushing on his girl. she’s his and his only. so seeing another man getting far too comfortable in invading your space, making you laugh and shit just stirs something within him.

miguel slowly makes his way towards you and the punk, fists clenching by the side. he hears your beautiful laugh one more time and holy hell, he feels like he’s going insane knowing you’re not laughing because of him.

“so was that the one professor who had his—oh!—what the—? baby! you found my tickle spot!” you giggle as you jump a little out of surprise, head craning over your shoulder to see your big and tall boyfriend wrapping his arms around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. “did you had the drinks yet?”

“mhm, a few” he kisses the corner of your mouth, eyes looking straight to the boy in front of you as if showing him off that you’re taken. “missed you, muñeca”

“you saw me like two hours ago, you big baby” a giggle escapes your mouth when you see him pout, kissing it. “oh! this aaron, by the way. i don’t think the two of you have met!”

aaron shoots miguel a toothy grin and a wave, in which miguel doesn’t mirror both actions. only simply glaring at him. “nice party you got going on here, man”

“thanks” miguel nods in acknowledgement, simply not entertaining the man with more than two words. because that’s what you get for hitting on his girl!

“it’s so crowded here though, thankfully she saw me looking scared and shit. saved me from getting swarmed” aaron laughs making you laugh as well and miguel’s grip tighten around you. “she’s definitely a keeper”

that comment somehow irks him a bit. “yeah, that’s why she’s my girlfriend. and i’m the boyfriend, y’know—in case you’re wondering” miguel’s hands wander lower to your hips, settling it there,

the response seems weird to you, making you shoot him a look with your eyebrow raising in which miguel ignores,

“i can definitely see that, big guy” aaron chuckles, not seemingly bothered by it. “if i had a girl like her, i think i’d be keeping her to myself far too much”

miguel’s jaw clenches at that, and it seems to pisses him even more when you decide to just laugh and not tell this aaron man off for saying that,

“you’re just saying thaaat” a blush creeps into your cheeks, holding onto miguel’s arms before your eyes widen. “oh! i forgot to mention! i brought fruit punch earlier! aaron you must have a taste, i’ll bring a cup for you. and you too” your turn around and smile at miguel, kissing his lips before muttering ‘be right back’

‘ah perfect, time to grill this motherfucker’ miguel smirks before watching you walk away,

his arms crossed, eyes looking down at the shorter guy who seems oblivious of what’s happening,

“so uh, you and—“

“look man, i don’t know what your deal is—but y/n is fucking mine” miguel cuts to the chase, eyes deepening into a frown. “and i don’t appreciate you’re hitting on my girl, looking at her legs and touching her skirt. just because she doesn’t tell you off that doesn’t mean it’s appropriate! you know she’s taken right?”

aaron raises both brows, eyes glancing left and right in confusion. “uhm, yes?”

“so back off then will you?! i worked my ass off trying to get her be my girlfriend, had to compete with other guys from soccer team and faculties, memorized her schedules and—shit, i promise her that i’ll tone down with this jealousy shit because she doesn’t like it when i get into a fist fight over her. so do me a favor, if you don’t like getting punched right now, leave me and my girl alone or i fucking swear—“

“jesus, man—i’m gay!”

and miguel immediately clamps up at that, eyes widening at the sudden burst from aaron but only enough for the two of them to hear,

“wait, what?!”

“i’m gay, dude” aaron laughs, amused by the expression miguel is putting on right now. “100% not into girls”

“oh..” miguel gets a bit quiet after, not knowing what to say next. shit. this is awkward. “i didn’t know that—you don’t look like one..”

“jeez, sorry if I don’t fit into the stereotype. i’ll put on my knitted rainbow scarf next time i stop by. want me to pierce my right ear too?”

“oh shit, that’s not what i meant! fuck—sorry man, i—“ miguel stutters. the last thing he wants to do is to make a gay person offended. he doesn’t know what to do in this situation. “i mean—why didn’t you start with that?!”

aaron laughs, shaking his head. “don’t sweat it—and uh, was just cute how you get all protective and shit over your girl. i can definitely see why you’re like that” he shrugs, looking over at you who’s laughing with couple of miguel’s frat brothers,

miguel smiles, looking over to see you by the drinks. heart swelling at the sight of his girlfriend being comfortable with glen and carlos. almost laughing to himself when you spill a bit of your drink onto carlos’s shirt making him pout.

“no offense, but i’d tap your girlfriend if i was into girls” aaron says, nudging him with his elbow.

miguel’s head turns around to look back at him in quick motion, one eyebrow raising at the comment.

“no offense back, but you sure you’re 100% gay?!”

#frat!miguel

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m1ssunderstanding · 1 year ago

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #yoko ono #linda eastman #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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gyaru-tau · 2 months ago

Text

Just a Little Longer

Not posting this to ao3 or anything since this fic is so itty bitty pocket sized and I don't have the energy rn. might do all that later but for now its NBD. This is just a short and kinda messy thing about TR!Phil post losing his wings after having them for 5 minutes. lol. Enjoy or dont

“...There has to be some reason.” Phil wonders aloud as he props a large log onto a stone wet from the fresh rain, readying Woodsbane on its surface in preparation to swing. With the amount of trees he chopped, it became inevitable that he’d eventually have to organize the mess. Treecapitator was nice, but it could only do so much in the way of organization.

Sneeg hums as he sits off to the side, handing off the occasional item for Crinkle to munch on– from his own inventory this time, Phil hoped. “Them having someone go rogue is pretty possible, I mean– I’ve seen it before, y’know?” Phil then adds. “There’s always some bigger force, and– and then there’s someone who wants to go against that force by getting help from outside, but…” Phil cuts himself off as he raises the axe high above his head and throws it down onto the log, splitting it cleanly in two. He immediately reaches for another log, swiping the other pieces away as if they weighed nothing and putting the new log in their place. If there was one thing he’d become from woodcutting, it was fast. Being maxed out and all– fast was the one thing he had left to be.

“...What if it wasn’t?? What if… They really only wanted you and Foolish to have them? And– And if not for an Elytra, then for what? Why wouldn’t they take it away the second you made it?” Sneeg simply shrugs. “I dunno. It doesn’t make a lotta sense to me either.” Phil sighs, zoning in on the log as he chops it cleanly once more, and then he chops another. And another. And another again.

…What had the keepers of the realm meant when they said it “wasn’t time”?

He wondered if it was something to do with the factions like Sneeg had suggested earlier; Both him and Foolish were a part of the Kingdom, after all… Maybe that was it...?

Or perhaps, it was due to Phil not being in a faction altogether..?

Placing another log on the stone, his eyes glance over to Sneeg. “...The fuck do you have that I don’t, mate?” He asks. He means it as a joke– he thinks that he means it as a joke. But Sneeg stands with a huff. “Look, Phil. I don’t know why this shit happened. We’re all kinda in the same boat right now.” He says defensively. “You’re gonna get your elytra eventually– this shit wasn’t fair. It’s just…”

He stares off into the distance. Something else was clearly on his mind, but Phil either didn’t particularly care right now. “...You’re just gonna have to wait a little longer, I guess.”

Phil’s grip on Woodsbane’s handle tightens despite the rain. He stares down to the last log he struck before silently flipping one of the halves on its flat end, kicking the other to the wayside. Sneeg sighs. “...I’ll leave you be for now. I gotta explain what happened to Foolish anyways, so… I dunno. Maybe he’ll have an idea of what happened.” Likely not; Phil wanted to say, but he kept silent.

Sneeg silently walks off– the only noise coming from his boots as they squelch in the wet mycelium, and his trident when he takes off into the now stormy sky. He didn’t have to look at Sneeg to know the look he was probably giving him as he left. Across what felt like a thousand different timelines, he’d seen it before about a million times over.

The apologies for his sake, the endless droves of sympathy. The sad look in people’s eyes when they said: “Oh well! There’s nothing to be done about that!”

Pity.

Every time without fail, it bore into Phil’s soul. It dug around deep in his chest until he was all but crying out in anguish, begging for it to cease, and he hated it. He hated it so, so very much.

Phil raised Woodsbane high above his head, straining as if the blade itself had hitched the loop of a halo that wasn’t there. “An angel lost his wings today.”

But they’d been lost for a long time now, hadn’t they?

“It is not yet time.”

And when would it be time?

“You’re just gonna have to wait a little longer.”

Phil’s breath hitches as he stares down at the halved log; not quite registering how his arms shook from both strain and rage as he held the axe in a crushing grip. He gritted his teeth together until his head began to pound–

–and to nobody in particular, he screamed as he swung the axe down onto the log with remarkable speed. “HOW MUCH LONGER?!” He asks, raising the axe again and barrelling down on the log once more. “HOW MUCH LONGER DO I HAVE TO WAIT?!”

And then repeatedly, Woodsbane fell upon the same log, each cut sloppier than the last as Phil hollered obscenities at the top of his lungs until his throat went hoarse. His blinding rage fizzled out into pathetic cries as he swung tiredly at nothing in particular; the log now too scattered and in pieces by then to even be truly called a log.

The cries turn hushed as he coughs and unceremoniously drops Woodsbane to the ground as he too, falls to his knees.

“...How much longer?” He rhetorically asks again, now tired and muffled as he stares to the ground, uncaring of the rain as it soaks into his clothing and frazzled hair. He thinks about what Pili had said earlier once more. Perhaps he was truly serious when he said it, but…

…An angel without wings.

It was a joke so ironic that Phil could almost laugh.

#syd spiels mcyt #the realm smp #syd's fics #mcyt #philza #tr!philza #trsmp #tr!sneegsnag #sneegsnag #malewifeduo #yassburger.#not tagging Pili or Foolish but both of them are mentioned like once

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tonyboneysblog · 11 months ago

Text

ACCIDENTAL NAB P2

paring: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: profanity

Notes: part two! I really love this series sm😭 hawks his mean also

Summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far from your home! On accident…

Part one: ACCIDENTAL NAB P1

You feel warm. you’re soundly sleeping after you dosed off, still not trusting the three men who took you away from your home.. (obviously)

your dreams have never been nice ones but for once they feel warm, you can vividly see all of your sisters crammed together trying to guess all the words in your fathers books.

you can hear them laughing while you walk into the room, they see you and their eyes brighten.

They practically beg you to read the book aloud to the three of them, you walk over and cuddle into their warmth. They whisper soft comments about the story while slowing falling under sleeps spell.

It’s so warm in this dream, you want to be here for- flick!

you open your eyes to see yellow ones staring right into your very soul.

“Morning!” He loudly chirps.

“…mph” your mouth is still gagged by the cloth, of course it is.

“Well I’m assuming that’s a good response instead of an insult…”

You look around the carriage, it’s not terrible but it��s not as good as yours back at home…obviously.

Dabi speaks up, “listen here and listen good, princess, we don’t need you causing a..ruckus while we’re in this god forsaken place.”

“Hey I quite like this trading post” the blonde responds.

“Shut the hell up hawks.” Dabi says curtly.

Hawks raises his hands in the air as a surrender motion, while Tokoyami hustles towards you. Guiding you out of the carriage .

“Just follow close to us.” Tokoyami says in a whisper.

You glance around the bigger town, many are staring, many scoff…for some reason.

Your used to the stares, mostly because your the princess, but still your surprised no one has recognized you yet? Don’t you people love you, shouldn’t they immediately recognize someone they worship?!

You wish you could just run away but, these three men are huddled around you like your some…Someone to be bought! And you are in fact priceless.

The four of you pass by many shops, some more worn down than others…god you miss your kingdom.

“There’s the bar…” Dabi says.

Hawks scoffs, “please Dabi, we’re with royalty at the moment, maybe don’t think about getting wasted?”

Dabi sighs, slouching down slightly in defeat…”her damn fault for hiding in a box.”

Tokoyami snickers softly, until you send him a glare that could envy your fathers.

He clears his throat, “don’t question the future queens decisions…”

Dabi laughs, “if she’s the future queen then we’re all doomed, thank the gods we took-“

“Could you two maybe not speak so loudly of us having the princess..?” Hawks angrily whispers towards the two.

They all finally shut their traps. You’d rather listen to your sister rant about how ‘gorgeous the gardener is!’.

you just want to be with your family honestly.

Your father always bossed you around anyways, you should be glad for this small bit of freedom! But, he only did it because he loved you…or maybe because you looked so much like your mother.

No, no, no thinking about the past…these men don’t even deserve to see your tears roll down your face! They’d probably collect them and sell it to the night market anyway…

You finally reached the shop you were supposed to be at, you watch as some of your most luxurious items go towards the shop keeper, as his eyes widen with glee.

“Sorry about your stuff…” Tokoyami whispers softly into your ear, “we do what we have to.”

“Mmphph”

The four of you leave after making a deals, the men stashing the shined golden coins into their pouches. How has no one recognized you still? Can’t they see your their next Queen?!

no matter how many eyes you stare dead into, no one even makes a move to help. Maybe they’re just scared to butt in!

or maybe…they don’t even know who you are.

you shake your head, I mean you weren’t as popular as your sisters, with all their beauty and charm…but! You were the oldest. Maybe that’s why no prince asked for your hand in marriage.

No, y/n stop that, you are just as great as all your sisters! Someone will have to recognize you, right?

“Should we rest here for the night sir?” Tokoyami says to hawks.

Hawks looks glances at you, then towards Tokoyami, “you tired ‘Yami?”

Tokoyami nods, “only slightly, I’m just worried for the…our friend here.”

Three kidnappers worried about your sleep schedule is absolutely perplexing to you.

“Yknow my favorite thing about SableStome has always been their amazing inns.” Dabi says with dullness.

Hawks laughs, “Can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

Dabi sighs, “Their beds are nice.”

Hawks then confidently starts to stride to the inn, “I suppose we have to stay then, right?”

confident men are always your least favorite, I mean no man has actually spoken more than 10 words to you but still.

Honesty you feel a twinge of excitement that you’ll be sleeping in a nice soft bed instead of a small, stuffy carriage…or box.

Hawks swings open the door to the inn and walks over towards the front desk, “two beds please~” he coos out.

The woman at the front desk smiles softly, “it’s nice to see you again hawks, new friend coming with you?” She ushers towards you.

no, your not their new “traveling buddy”, your the very popular and very kidnapped princess!

“Yep! She’s not the talker though…” says hawks.

Of course you’re not a talker, you’re being gagged by some nasty hanker cheif.

“Alrighty, here’s your key!” She slides the key over towards hawks.

“Thank you sweetie..” he says.

The sun has almost finished setting, you can tell from the window you’re looking out of, it’s gorgeous…reminds you of when your mother would take you to the shoreline and spill wise words from her mouth.

it’s truly terrible that you no longer remember a single thing she’s said.

“Hey, snap out of it” Hawks comes into your peripherals, “we got a nice room for ya, princess, cmon…”

He walks away. It’d be nice to get some rest..at least you couldn’t think about the past in your sleep, or atleast not too in depth.

You walk up the stairs, following behind hawks closely, opening the door then looking around the room.

It’s about the size of your closet, not terrible, the beds are kinda big at-least, only two…wait two?

Who in gods name is trying to cuddle up to you in the middle of the night? No princess should be…even sleeping near someone of their status!

Hawks looks towards your distressed expression, “What?”

“Mphpmph!” You muffle out.

“Do you want the gag off..?”

Well it would be nice, but that wasn’t what you were trying to say!

“Mrmphphpm”

“I mean…promise you won’t yell?” He says softly.

Well there’s really no point in yelling, what’s the clerk gonna do against three men….

You nod eagerly, hawks shakes his head letting out a small chuckle, “fine, fine.”

He pulls down your hood, undoes your scarf, then unties your gag, pocketing it. Slightly gross but at least it’s off now.

“You must be out of your damned, trivial, insignificant mind if you think I’m even sharing a bed with you, you big boned avian.”

Hawks sighs, “I didn’t take it off so you could just be mean…”

“you heard me.” You say.

Hawks looks at you, “what do you want me to do, sleep on the floor?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! glad your meager brain could think the same as me.”

“Alright the gag is going back on-“ “w-wait hold on!”

Hawks stops, raising his eyebrow.

“I-I uhm…it is improper for someone of my status to sleep with...you.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “look, you may think your reallll important but your sisters are way more admired than you are. We barely even recognized you as royalty.”

well ouch…

He continues, “Not to mention that not one single person has even tried to help you, so stop complaining about who you sleep next to.”

Tokoyami steps in, “no need to be so harsh to her, Hawks, I doubt you would want to sleep near people who accidentally kidnapped you..?”

“Well she wanted to be all sassy!” Hawks says agitated.

Dabi speaks from the bed, “I say she needed the wake-up call.”

“You’re not helping.” Tokoyami says.

You stomp over towards the vacant bed, slamming yourself down into it.

“Hm, guess she’s over it!” Hawks says cheerfully.

Tokoyami and Dabi sigh, hawks looks at both of them, “what?”

Their voices slowing fade as you push yourself farther and farther into your own head. You’re already having a terrible time, being kidnapped and all, but they just rub the salt deeper into the wound!

How would mother respond? never mind actually, she would have never fussed in the first place. Father most likely would have beat their head into a plup. Mother made him soft, made you soft, then she was gone.

Your sisters barely remember her, but you remember her smile, your father says she looks exactly like you.

You can feel the a second weight be put onto the bed, you don’t care who it is, hopefully it’s the nice bird headed one.

do your sisters miss you as much as you miss them? Who’ll read to them, who’ll will be there to check their dress or if they look presentable enough to see the man who wants their hand in marriage?

You open your eyes slightly, looking towards a window. It’s dark out, how long have you been stuck in your own head?

You rise from the bed quietly, you look at the door, it’s locked tight so you can run out. You make your way towards the windowsill, sitting down.

Your tired but not tired enough to fall asleep just yet, your heads to full of thoughts anyway, when have you ever been this sentimental?

The moon is beautiful tonight, bright and fully lit. You’re glad your father taught you how to read because then you’d never know how the moon changes.

You didn’t know which one you liked more, the sun or the moon? Then again the sun could shine by itself while the moon needed the sun to shine even half as bright.

“What’re you doing..?” Says a soft, sleepy voice.

You look over to where the voice could’ve been, locking eyes with yellow ones.

“Nothing.” You says curtly.

Hawks rubs his eyes, “your one weird princess, huh?”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re rude.”

There’s silence after hawks speaks.

“Well-“

He cuts you off, “Come back to bed.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I just don’t want a grumpy princess in the morning…”

You huff, “fine.” Then plop yourself onto the bed, “don’t suffocate me with your wings, I’m important.”

“Sure you are…” he says tiredly.

“I am.”

“I’m not disagreeing.”

“good.”

You close your eyes, the warmth he emits isn’t…terrible. In fact, it’s quite comforting.

“Hey” hawks whispers.

“what.” Your reply quietly.

“Why were you in that box, no judgement it’s just…weird?”

You sigh, “I was…playing hide and seek.”

He starts laughing, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others, “stupid…”

He flips around, facing you. “sorry that we took you…”

“yes, you should be..”

“You are so hard to be nice to..”

“My father-“

“I don’t wanna hear about your father, I already see his face in every town we go to.”

Well isn’t that insulting, your father is wonderful!…wait, do the people see your face too?

“Hmph.”

“What?”

“Do you see my face too?…in public?”

Hawks looks towards the ceiling, then back at you, “I see your sisters more.”

“Hm…”

That’s why no one recognized you, your barely even publicized.

“Don’t know why though, I personally think you’re prettier than your sisters” he says faintly.

“Really?”

“no.”

“Asshole.”

He starts giggles, his wings puffing up slightly.

“Such a way with words eh? I’ll leave you alone now”

“good, your terrible company.”

He snickers and turns to his side, facing away from you.

“Night, princess”

You only hum in agreement.

It’s not terrible here, but you oh so badly want out from this small freedom.

#anime #fanfics #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #takami keigo #keigo x you #mha takami keigo #hawks x y/n #mha #spotify #fantasy #mha au #takami keigo x reader

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writing-blog-iguess · 1 year ago

Text

Online Matchup 6

Summery: Y/N gets texts from someone the last person they thought of. In doing so, learns a few things about their sister and who gave out their number.

Warning: swearing, fluff

Words: 3.4K

A/n: Feed back is always welcome, hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @xoxoyourdoll

ao3

Series master list

————

October 23

Y/n (6:30 am) I thought you said you weren’t going to give Conner my number?

Jason I did not

Y/N Then why is he yelling at me for dissing his writing It has been two weeks And he’s still upset about it It’s been three hours since he started texting me And he’s still not done Why is the sunshine boy up at three in the morning anyways? I haven’t answered yet

Jason What the fuck No I didn’t give him your number And he begged me for it Should have known something was up when he stopped asking

Y/N Who the fuck gave him my number?

Jason I don’t know

Y/N Whoever it is, they are dead.

Jason I’ll help But Conner isn’t that bad

Y/N No But he hasn’t stopped being mad at me for what I said He won’t even let me get a word in

Jason He’ll stop, just wait

—

Y/n (7:30 am) Are you done?

Conner Nothing to say I see

Y/N It’s been a few years I’m not going to talk about that It’s stupid So why are you even talking about it?

Conner I’m offended

Y/N Then stop

Conner Why are you so mean?

Y/N Because we’re talking about something that happened in the past A past that I do not care for

Conner You were never this mean in high school What happened?

Y/N I moved away and became a different person Gotham has harden my soul Why do you care? We were never friends

Conner Yeah, but you’re my girlfriend’s sister I gotta at least try

Y/N … What?

Conner Ah shit She didn’t tell you?

Y/N W h a t

Conner Pretend I didn’t say that

Y/N NO I CAN’T PRETEND WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M YOUR GIRLFRIENDS SISTER?

Conner Your sister is going to kill me

Y/N CONNER KENT

Conner Has anyone ever told you how scary you can be?

Y/N Yes now answer the question

Conner I mean That’s pretty straight forward

Y/N HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN DATING? AND AREN’T YOU LIKE ANCIENT

Conner I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I’M A FEW MONTHS OLDER THAN HER AND WE’RE BOTH LIKE TWO YEARS YOUNGER THEN YOU And like, almost a year

Y/N WHY DIDN’T SHE TELL ME?

Conner Something to do with her waiting for the right time

Y/N I’m offended

Conner Gonna have to take it up with her

Y/N I can’t, she’s in school Shouldn’t you be in class?

Conner Sick

Y/N That’s bullshit You don’t get sick

Conner I don’t have to explain myself to you You’re not my keeper

Y/N Nah, that’s my sister apparently

Conner Not gonna let that go, are you?

Y/N Nope

Conner Shouldn't you be in class?

Y/N Not until three

Conner Be annoying somewhere else

Y/N Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you How’d you get my number anyways?

Conner Oh would you look at that! I gotta go

Y/N Bitch

—

Y/N (8:10 am) HE’S DATING MY SISTER?

Jason You didn’t know?

Y/N NO YOU KNEW?

Jason I feel like this is a trap

Y/N It’s not, and I’m not mad if you did How long did you know?

Jason Um, couple of months I think They’ve been dating longer though

Y/N Almost a year apparently I’m so mad And I can’t even call her because she’s in school Son of a bitch

Jason Let me know how that conversation goes

—

Y/N (11:02 am) Cannot believe you’re dating Conner Kent

Ellie How the fuck do you know that?

Y/N I’m offended

Ellie Hey, you didn’t tell me you were talking to Jason

Y/N That’s different Whatever I have going on with Jason is new And I didn’t want to jinx it You’re dating Conner for close to a year I think that warrants telling your sister

Ellie It never came up?

Y/N Bull. Shit

Ellie You never liked Conner, I was afraid you wouldn’t approve

Y/N I have never said I disliked Conner I may have said he’s annoying sometimes and he’s too bright Hence why I call him sunshine boy

Ellie Do you approve though?

Y/N Does he make you happy?

Ellie Yes

Y/N Then I approve How’d that happen anyways?

Ellie Newspaper

Y/N I still can’t believe you joined the school paper

Ellie I love writing You did it

Y/N That’s because Kate made me I wasn’t there by choice

Ellie Right So, how’d you know?

Y/N Your boyfriend let it slip

Ellie What?

Y/N Which reminds me, did you give him my number

Ellie You know I’d never do that

Y/N Someone did, and he’s not telling me

Ellie Hold on a sec I’ll find out for you

Y/N Someone’s going to die I just don’t know who

Ellie (12:15 pm) Try not to kill Conner, I really like him Also, some guy named Tim I think that’s his friend or something

Y/N That son of a bitch

Ellie Do you know him?

Y/N Not personally, but yeah

Ellie Have mercy on his soul

Y/N Don’t you know him?

Ellie Why would I know Tim?

Y/N Isn’t Conner friends with the Waynes?

Ellie I think so…?

Y/N Eleanor You have been dating Sunshine Boy for almost a year And you don’t know?

Ellie Don’t call me that It makes me feel like I’m in trouble

Y/N Eleanor Stop deflecting

Ellie Okay, yes he’s friends with the Waynes I just never personally met them yet They kind of scare me

Y/N I’m ashamed to call you my sister

Ellie EXCUSE ME HAVE YOU SEEN THEM?

Y/N YES I’m talking to one of them, remember?

Ellie JASON’S A WAYNE?

Y/N Did I not mention that?

Ellie NO YOU BURIED THE LEAD ON THAT ONE

Y/N Oopsie

Ellie DON’T OOPSIE ME Y/N

Y/N Welp, gotta go

Ellie BITCH GET BACK HERE WE’RE NOT DONE Y/N

—

Y/N (12:20 pm) Your brother is dead to me

Jason I have like four You need to be more specific

Y/N Tim

Jason Ah, yeah okay that tracks

Y/N Tell him to count his days I’m coming for him

Jason All this over a phone number

Y/N He doesn’t even know me Why would he do this?

Jason I don’t know I personally think he likes the drama

Y/N I hope he knows the consequences

Jason He’ll find out once he meets you Conner finally confessed?

Y/N Not to me

Jason Had a conversation with your sister I take it

Y/N Apparently, I had this ‘I don’t like him’ vibe going on And that’s why she didn’t want to tell me Which fair, I didn’t like anyone in high school much But Conner was okay

Jason And now they’re dating

Y/N Which I find bizarre but if she’s happy then it’s whatever

Jason Did you threaten Conner if he ever broke her heart

Y/N … No Excuse me please

Jason I am so glad he’s not my friend

–

Y/N You break Ellie’s heart I’m coming for you

Conner I would like to see you try

Y/N I will try And I will win

Conner Don’t know how, you know jack shit about me

Y/N I’ll ask Ellie once her broken heart is mended And then I will be coming for you

Conner Well, that won’t happen I don’t plan to hurt her

Y/N I hope so Cuz you’ll be dealing with me And I can be your worst nightmare

Conner Don’t you have a boyfriend to kiss?

Y/N Don’t you have girlfriend to kiss?

Conner I do and I’m about to go see her

Y/NNo Nope I don’t want to hear about your relationship Especially not you

ConnerAwe come Y/N Afraid of a little pda?

Y/NThat’s my sister you’re talking about Be careful Oh, before I forget Pass a message to Tim for me? Tell him he better watch his back

Conner SHE RATTED ME OUT

Y/N Sir, she is my sister She is my best friend And we’ll tell each other things you wish you could hear

Y/N I think I scared him

Jason He probably deserved it

Y/N Hey, what do you mean Conner’s not really your friend? Didn’t you hang out last weekend?

Jason Conners more Tim’s friend then he is mine And yes but only because I was doing something for Tim

Y/N He couldn’t have done it?

Jason Probably But I was coming out there anyways so I volunteered

Y/N You know what I think?

Jason No and I don’t think I want to know But you’re going to tell me anyway

Y/N Even though you claim you don’t like your family very much I think you secretly like your family You just hide it well Jason? Oh no I said something you didn’t like I’m sorry

Jason (4:20 pm) It’s okay So Wanna do something tonight?

Y/N: Ah, he speaks

Jason Okay, yeah that was kind of deserved I’m sorry for just disappearing on you earlier

Y/N It’s okay There will probably be times where I will do the same thing I just need some patience from you And I’ll be patient with you

Jason At least your honest

Y/N I just really don’t want to fuck this up

Jason I second that So, do you want to?

Y/N Do I want to what?

Jason Seriously? I asked like two seconds ago

Y/N Okay, but in my defense I am ~distracted~

Jason With another boy? How could you

Y/N Okay, first of all fuck you And second of all I’m trying to find the books I need

Jason Only if you’re going to help

Y/N I have some regrets right now

Jason Did you forget your library card again?

Y/N No, this time I actually remembered

Jason I’m proud of you for that

Y/N Mm, can’t tell if your being sarcastic or not

Jason 100% serious

Y/N Well damn Now I’m flustered

Jason Oh? Information to store away

Y/N I feel like I made a mistake

Jason Only time will tell

Y/N So, what was the question again?

Jason Scroll up?

Y/N Respectfully, no

Jason Lol okay Would you like to do something tonight?

Y/N Really trying to get to the fifth date I see

Jason Nah, I can wait for that I just wanted to hang out

Y/N Your brothers don’t need help tonight?

Jason Surprisingly no, they don’t. Are you trying to get out of hanging out with me?

Y/N Uh, no I’ve got a project I’m working on I don’t want to bore you

Jason Nonsense I can bring something to read It’d be nice to sit around and relax

Y/N If you're sure

Jason I’m sure I’ll bring food

Y/N You know where I live

Jason All I had to do is say food and you're in? Very easy to please huh?

Y/N I wouldn’t say that But yes, I’m very easy to persuade when foods involved

Jason Any food allergies?

Y/N Not that I’m aware of

Jason Alright I’ll text you when I’m on my way

Y/N Okay But don’t get to offended if I don’t respond There will be a chance I’ll turn off my phone once I get home I don’t want to get distracted Especially if Conner wants to yell at me some more

Jason Thanks for the warning

–

True to your word, you hadn’t answered when Jason messaged you. But he wasn’t too worried, earlier while he was busy at home, you had sent a message saying you got home fine and that you’ll be shutting off your phone soon.

Jason had been too busy to answer, but his heart swelled at the care you seemed to have for him. That you knew he’d worry about you without having to say something. Sure, his family cared about him but there was something different when you cared.

He shot a text back saying he’d be coming soon before going about cleaning his guns.

An hour later, he was finished and left his apartment with food on his mind.

The sound of knocking at your door broke your concentration. You blinked back to awareness just as another round of knocks sounded.

“Come in!” you called, leaning back from the coffee table to stretch. You let out a noise of satisfaction when your bones cracked.

“You should have your doors locked when you're home alone,” Jason called, closing the door behind him. “You never know what creep might come in.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were coming and I tend to hyper focus on my work,” you answered, turning around to watch Jason walk into the living room, carrying a couple of boxes of pizza. “Saves me the trip of opening the door.”

“There was a chance that it wasn’t me behind the door,” he said, setting the boxes down after you made some room for them.

“No, but I don’t have people come over.”

“What about your friends?”

“They have a key, and come unannounced. Aside from my neighbours, you're the only one who knocks.”

“Still, gotta be more cautious,” Jason warned, grunting as he sat on the floor beside you. “Hungry?”

“Starved.”

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate, only making idle conversation. The conversations ranged from what your favourite things are to embarrassed stories growing up, to darkest secrets.

Jason had kept his lips sealed with his secrets, but you weren’t mad about it. They were his, and his alone. If he didn’t want to share, he didn’t have to. And you made sure he knew you understood.

When there were only a few slices of pizza, and your stomach was full did you turn back to your homework. Reluctantly, you rather talk to Jason then do homework. But it wasn’t going to finish by itself and you needed the grade.

“Do you always work in silence?” Jason asked as he stood to stretch.

“Usually I have music playing, but the neighbours kept complaining about the noise level. And I don’t like blasting music in my ears,” you answered, and gestured towards your collection of CDs. “Help yourself if you find anything you like.”

Jason wandered over and whistled. “That’s quite the collection.”

“What can I say? Started it when I was, I don’t know, ten? And just kept collecting,” you said absentmindedly, “same goes with my books.”

“Let’s see what we have here,” Jason mumbled as he looked through them. “Classical, pop, rock, metal, jazz? Man you have a little bit of everything huh?”

“Yup.”

“Oh ho ho, what’s this?” Jason sang, catching your attention. You looked up just in time to watch Jason pull out a familiar CD. “A mixed CD? I didn’t know you were the type.”

You jumped up and tripped over the couch when you launched yourself over it. Picking yourself up from the floor, you ran and jumped onto Jason’s back, reaching for the CD he held above his head.

“Holy shit,” he grunted at the impact, stumbling forward, trying to regain his balance. “You’re a lot heavier than you look.”

“That is not something you tell a person,” you muttered, making a noise as you tried to reach for the CD. “Give it back.”

“What’s on there? Porn?”

“No,” you said, flustered, “why would I do that?”

“No you're right, you’re not that type of person,” he mused, moving the CD further from you. He glanced up and laughed. “I didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic.”

“Shut up,” you squealed and shouted in victory when you succeeded in grabbing the CD from him. “Ha!” you said and jumped off him, you left the room to hide the mixed tape elsewhere.

“You know, there isn’t a hiding place here that I couldn’t find,” Jason said dryly when you walked into the living room.

“That I have no doubt,” you replied, sitting back on the floor. “But that cd is not one I would like to listen to right now.”

“Is it embarrassing?”

“Yes. I rather not cringe at all the memories those songs will bring.”

“That’s a juicy story I can tell,”he said, turning back to back your collection.

“Only if you tell me your death story,” you shot back. When Jason said nothing, you nodded. “I thought so.”

“Okay, so we both have stories we don't want to talk about,” he confessed, “doesn’t mean they’re great.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Silence settled between the two of you as you continued with your paper and Jason kept looking through your CDs. A few minutes later, the room was filled with Tchaikovsky.

“Never thought you’d be a Nutcracker fan,” you commented as the first song started.

“Sometimes you just want to listen to the classics,” he said, moving towards your bookshelf. “Do you mind?”

You looked up to see him gesturing towards your books. You shook your head and went back to your paper. “I thought you were gonna bring a book.”

“I forgot it at home.”

“Too excited to come see me?” you teased.

“No, I had food on my mind,” he teased back and laughed at the look you gave him. “And you, I was also thinking about you too.”

You hummed, watching as he finally picked a book and made his way to the couch. He plopped down, he moved around a bit until he was comfortable before opening the book. You tilted your head trying to read the title and smiled.

“You’re full of surprises, Jason,” you said before turning back towards the coffee table again.

“So are you,” he shot back, and that was the end of the conversation. For a while, the only sounds were the music, the occasional page flipping and a pencil scratching against paper.

There was a peace that settled with the two of you as you did your own things. A peace that both of you haven’t felt in awhile, so much that you kind of forgot the presence of the other person.

You stayed on the floor most of the time, only getting up to use the bathroom and to switch out the CDs once they finished. A couple of hours later, your homework was finally done, you sat back and stretched.

“Hey, I just remembered I have som-” you cut yourself short when you looked up to see Jason fast alseep on the couch. You weren’t sure at what point he had fallen asleep, but it looked like he needed it.

So, instead of waking him up, you let him sleep. Standing up, you reached down to grab the Jane Austen book he was in the middle of reading. You made sure to bookmark it in case he wanted to finish it the next time he was over.

Setting it on the coffee table, you made your way over to turn down the music until it was just softly playing before grabbing a blanket to cover Jason with.

“Rest well,” you whispered as you tucked in him slightly. “I think you need it.”

You turned back to your bookshelf and grabbed a book for yourself before going to sit back on the floor where you were doing your homework and started reading.

Jason woke up to his phone vibrating against his leg. He blinked, confused about where he was. The ceiling he was looking at didn’t look like his, and the last thing he remembered was reading on the couch. At your house.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, as the puzzle pieces fell together. “I fell asleep.”

“Turn it off,” came a mumble from beside him. He turned his head to find you leaning against the couch, head tilting up fast asleep. “Five more minutes, Mom. I’m tired.”

Smiling, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and glared at the name that flashed across his screen. “What do you want, Tim?”

“Where are you?” Tim asked instead of answering. “You were supposed to be here like, two hours ago.”

“I told you I wasn’t going out tonight. Bruce knows this, so does Dick and they said they were okay with it.”

“Yeah, but you promised.”

“You and I both know, I didn’t promise shit,” he whispered, “whatever it is, you’ll have to deal without me.”

“Its not the same,” Tim whined. “And why are we whispering?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re with Y/N aren’t you?” Tim asked, and Jason could tell he was smiling.

“You know, I hope that whatever Y/N does to you, you’ll suffer,” Jason snapped and tried to keep his laugh in at the ��hey!” Tim yelled.

“What did I ever do to them? We haven’t even met!”

“Enough that they’re out for blood,” Jason said, not wanting to elaborate. “I have to go.” He hung up before Tim could question him further, and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Turning his head to look at you again, he thought about what to do next.

Sleeping on the floor like that couldn’t be comfortable and he knew should wake up and leave, but it was late and he wanted to let you sleep. Instead, he slowly got off the couch without waking you. He went to the bathroom before going around the apartment to lock the windows and doors, and turned off the lights that were on.

He made his way back to the living room, and gently picked you up before setting you back down on the couch. He tucked you in with the blanket you had given him.

Satisfied that you were safe in your own apartment, he turned to leave. But before he could, something grabbed his arm, stopping him. He stalled and turned around slowly, and raised an eyebrow when he noticed you staring at him.

“It’s late, Jason,” you mumbled, “I’m not going to let you go home this late.”

“How are you going to stop me?” Jason challenged. Instead of answering, you tugged his arm hard enough to make him stumble towards you. He braced himself against the back of the couch, preventing him from falling completely onto you. “You’re very bold when your half asleep,” he joked. You stuck your tongue out at him and tugged on his arm again.

“Shut up and lay down,” you mumbled, trying to get up from the couch. Jason moved to sit down beside you. “I’m too tired to move to my bed. So, you can take my bed or share the couch.”

He watched as you curled up on the one side of the couch and moved the blanket so he could have some too. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you mumbled, eyes already closing. “I don’t make the people I care about leave in the middle of the night. You never know what could happen on the way home.”

Touched, and not wanting to make you worry, Jason took the corner of the blanket you weren’t using and settled down on the couch. He didn’t fall asleep right away. Opting instead to read more of his book. Within minutes of reading, however, sleep claimed him.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd gn!reader #batman imagine #jason todd #online match up #my writing #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you

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that-basic-simp · 7 months ago

Text

Found You

Karlach x Fem! Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.0k+ Summary: Hide and Seek with the companions.

"This is the most serious game of hide and go seek I will ever play," Karlach said as she was pushing around bushes and other leaf like nature. "It also doesn't help that I don't particularly have a knack for this sort of thing."

"Wonder why we made you the seeker," Shadowheart's voice came from nowhere.

"You would think Halsin would make for an easy target."

"At least Halsin can use his powers," Lae'zel said.

"Which is cheating! Sort of," Karlach said.

"Just focus on the game, Karlach," Wyll said.

"Easy for you to say," Karlach jutted her chin at him. "I found you within seconds."

"Actually, that was me," Gale raised his hand.

"Ah, yes. How could I forget ticking time bomb 2.0 over there? That glowing thing in your chest and your heaving can give you away for at least 20 miles."

"At least you don't have to eat the group's magical items," Gale tried to argue.

"No, but if mine goes off, I disintegrate."

"Neither of us are in a good position with these things in our chests."

"Shadowheart I see you."

"Do you really?"

"Yes. Your thing on the top of your head is poking out from the bush."

"You have to come and make sure it's me."

Karlach walked over to the bush and grabbed the item, only to find no Shadowheart.

"Clever," Karlach said and put it on her broken horn. "It's mine now."

"No! That's not how it works."

"Finders keepers."

"You're giving that back."

"Or what, Shart? You'll try to fight me like you tried to fight Lae'zel and Y/N had to step in?"

"I could have taken her down easily."

"Chk. Like it would be so easy to take me down."

"I may have more brute strength than you, Shart, but I wouldn't even dare try to fight Lae'zel."

"Whatever. You're giving that back to me once this is over. And stop calling me Shart! It sounds obscene."

"Just like you," Karlach said and pushed aside some branches, revealing Shadowheart.

"There. You found me," Shadowheart said and grabbed the thing from Karlach's horn.

"Ow. Ow! Hey, watch it before you just go yanking something off of me."

"Please. It's not like your horns are so easy to pull off," Shadowheart grabbed the other horn and yanked it, pulling Karlach's head towards her.

"Besides, how did the other horn become broken?"

"What do you expect? I was a soldier in a war."

"I was expecting you to say you ran face first into a tree because of a dare."

"Look," Karlach shoved Shadowheart away. "I may be a barbarian, but that doesn't mean I think like one all the time."

"Sure," Shadowheart said.

"Anyway, three down, four to go."

"I'd like for you to get it done by sun down. It's Y/N's turn for making dinner."

"Speaking of Y/N, I haven't heard anything from her, Astarion, or Halsin."

"They're better at playing hide and seek. I'm surprised Astarion agreed to do this," Shadowheart said.

"Maybe it was because we all kind of bullied him into it," Karlach snickered. "That man has to have some fun."

"His idea of fun is sucking the blood out of everything," Shadowheart sighed.

"I beg your pardon!" Astarion's head poked out from behind his tent.

"You were hiding there the entire time?!" Karlach laughed.

"Yes, I have. Seems like you need some glasses."

"I honestly wasn't looking that hard," she admitted.

"Seems like you're the one who needs to have more fun," Astarion walked out from behind his tent and he sat down on his bedroll.

"Now it's just Lae'zel, Halsin, and Y/N," Karlach muttered to herself.

"You're not finding Y/N," Astarion said.

"Why's that?"

"If you can't find me, in the most obvious places, you're not finding Y/N."

"Why? Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," everyone said, even Halsin.

"What makes you say that?"

"It's very obvious," Shadowheart looked in my direction.

Karlach followed her gaze, but it appeared she couldn't see me. Or she didn't recognize it was me. Unlike Halsin, who could have easily changed into an animal, I did. I was sitting right next to Scratch. And she still couldn't see me. Instead of searching the area for me, she went on to find Halsin and Lae'zel.

"You look like a frog in there," Karlach titled her head to the side, finding Lae'zel's head above water.

"And yet you didn't even bother looking over here when I spoke."

"Well, I found you. Which means I need to find Y/N and Halsin. More like Halsin."

She found Halsin within minutes after Lae'zel, as he was hiding behind some rocks with a family of ducks. The others were settling back into their tents while Karlach was still looking for me. Guess it was time to let the cat out of the bag. Literally. I walked out from behind Scratch and towards Karlach. I let out a loud meow before rubbing up in between her legs.

"Well aren't you a darling thing?" she smiled, picking me up. She cradled me in her arms and pet my head, a low purr coming from me.

"Maybe you've seen Y/N. Tell me where she went."

I hissed slightly before going to claw at her hand. She pulled it back and lightly batted me on the forehead.

"Hey! No!"

I hissed once more before I changed back. Karlach almost dropped me because of the sudden change. Her eyes widened and her head jerked backwards.

"Y-Y/N? You were the cat?"

"Yes! I made it very obvious I was the cat."

"You were next to Scratch."

"Yes."

"I thought you had gotten His Majesty to follow you back to the camp."

"He's hairless!"

Karlach gave me a nervous smile, "I-I'm really sorry, Y/N."

I jumped from her arms and walked towards my tent.

"Y/N, can we talk about this?" she rushed towards me, but I lowered the flap on my tent, only for her to fly through it.

"Y/N, please. I-I didn't mean for you to get upset."

I let out a sigh, shaking my head. A small smile formed as I turned to face her. How could I stay mad at her? Especially when her pout was the cutest of them all. I reached up and placed my hands on her cheeks, pulling her towards me. Our foreheads met one another's and I caressed the skin of her cheek with my thumb.

"I could never stay mad at you for long. Unless you really fucked up."

"Did I, darling?"

I giggled. I loved it when she used that pet name.

"No, Karlach. I just got too serious with this silly little game."

She snickered, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

"Since you won hide and seek, you should get rewarded."

"Oh? And how will the great Karlach reward me?"

"You'll know soon enough," she said, pressing her lips against mine firmly.

#karlach x reader #karlach bg3 #karlach #karlach cliffgate #bg3

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mythalsknickers · 4 months ago

Note

the religious prompts and solavellan tho....

❝ i begged for a miracle. instead, i got you. ❞

screaming. anyway, happy friday!

Title: A Faded Crestwood Pairing: Solas x Fen'aslan Lavellan Rating: T Word Count: 1146 Author Note: Thank you so much for your prompt, I hope you enjoy this, I have been toying around with my own variation of Crestwood for awhile now. @dadrunkwriting

Adamant Fortress laid in ruins, yet the fade was a comforting embrace on days that took too much from her. Something deep inside her had turned her blood to ice and twisted like a knife between her ribs. Yet, in the fade she was under trees older than the world, and darker than the night sky. Wolves howled in the distance begging for her to hunt. As she focused on the deeper currents of the fade, she could feel him, a certain elven apostate.

The fade rippled but she did not take the plunge to join him, her little corner was warm, it reminded her of something but she could not fully recall it. Vhenan the fade around her shuddered as the word reached her dreams. Opening her eyes she came face to face with the pale blue eyes of Solas. "Vhenan?" she murmured, the fade had changed around them. It had grown colder, a mist had covered the ground and a pair of great harts overlooked the glade, the water she laid in was unnaturally blue. Taking his hand, she rose from the water slowly. "Ma serannas, I did not mean to intrude." A finger found her lips briefly replaced with a slow and tender kiss.

"You are welcome here, Vhenan." His eyes held a tenderness to them she had not seen from him yet, their fingers lacing together as he lead her to the banks. "I called you here to tell you the truth..." Her eyes met his again and her brows knitted as he seemed to be stumbling over the words. "T-the Vallaslin, in ancient times they were used to mark the slaves of nobles and the gods." His lips pursed and she felt his hands tighten, but he was no longer looking at her. Her eyes narrowed for a moment and the temperature around them dipped, ice starting to form on the grass.

"What aren't you telling me Solas, aside from another thing the dalish got wrong?" His grip on her hands tightened and there was a subtle shift in his eyes to the purple that happened when she challenged him. "The dalish did get one thing right, they made you Vhenan..." Her lips thinned as she took a breath, creators or ancestors she needed some strength to deal with this man.

Creators, Sileal was so stubborn. He could never tell her the plans. Her eyes widened as the memory drifted forward, gauze-like curtains and a warm breeze, someone playing a lute in the background as she and Solas stared down eachother. But that couldn't be possible, she born in the Tirashan and Solas was from the north, sure he was older than her but he could not be that old.

"I know a spell that can remove them, Vhenan if you wish." Her eyes focused back on Solas, the gauze-like curtains were gone, and they were back in the misty glade, had he not seen it? Her shoulders dropping. He was not going to tell her, but perhaps..if she agreed to what he wanted he would relent and tell her what he truly had wanted to. "I--" he breath caught as she took a breath. The Eyes of Fen'harel, that was what her Keeper's mentor had called them. They had been responsible for her isolation from her clan, and ultimately sending her to the conclave where she met her Vhenan.

You should not have left Las, we are in the middle of a war. Smoke filled her nose, but hope it burned bright in her chest, shining in her eyes. Her hand reached up to touch a soot and ash covered cheek, trailing into blood matted hair. "You are my Vhenan, Sileal. Just as Sulevin is your second. I go were you both go. I will not let you not feel my light because you fear what will happen!"

"I--I will agree, if you tell me what is really going on Solas." His eyes too had seemed distant for a moment before they refocused on her. For a moment they were knitted in confusion as if he was puzzling out what he just saw, was it something about her or had he like her witnessed a memory of the fade. Something was untangling deep in her. "Very well Vhenan." He sighed reluctantly taking her down to the ground pulling her into a slow and deliberate kiss.

His hands glowed a dim blue, coolness washed over her face, for a moment he looked as if tears where forming. "Ar lasa mala revas..." As the magic faded her head began to pound. Her face bare as her eyes wanted.

Three wolf pelts, blood spilling across a golden dais, chaos cutting celebration short, a pair of hands pulling her from the two she needed to be with. Las! he had screamed for her. Da'len you must sacrifice for the good of the people. The voice she had heard in her mind thousands of times as she was put into an uthenera chamber, fighting and struggling, tears streaming from her eyes. You will be bound to the wolf, and when the time is right you will know all.

"Vh--Fen'aslan!" Her eyes focused on him, raw and full of tears as she cradled her head. "Vhenan?" His voice softer as he gently removed her hands. "You must harden yourself--"

"NO SILEAL!" The words left her lips and Solas stumbled back, his eyes widening, tears forming in his eyes as they shifted more towards the true blue. "The Evanuris asked for a miracle!" The temperature plummeted as the lake began to freeze her screams turning to howls. "Instead they got us! They tortured us!" Sobs wracked her body, tears freezing to her cheeks.

"Vhenan..." there was a pause as he stood slowly creeping into the field of ice around her. "Las... Vhenan is it truly?" his voice sounded like a prayer, another sob tore through the clearing. His chest tightened as he reached out to touch her face. What had they done to her. Despair had long sank claws into her during the war but for it to have twisted. The wind and ice stilled as his fingers brushed away icy tears. "Las..." he murmured again. He pulled on the memory, hope filling scared and tired voices, the burning hope of seeing a fortress in the middle of the mountains. "You are hope, Vhenan."

The ice began to melt from the grass, the sobs continued, her body collapsing into the damp grass. "Sileal why?" His throat tightened as he pulled her into his arms, a millennia of her being gone that faithful night the best of them was taken. True names left their lips, the binding to say the names given to them by their friend gone. "They killed her Las...and I b--broke the world." Her head buried into his shoulder as the both cried.

#dragon age #Dragon age Inquisition #solas x levallan #solas x female lavellan #Solas x Fen'aslan Lavellan #Sollavellan #My Take on Crestwood...oops #Prompt Fill #DADWC #fen'aslan lavellan

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