#Basically no one knows about that game series and it pains me so...

[yippieitsarvensart]

YIPPEE!!!! YOURE SO REAL AND SO VALID I LOVE TALKING HCS WITH PEOPLE AND HEARING THEIR PERSPECTIVES!!

Bring it back to Floyd because I love yo project on him SO MUCH, I like to think that even though he likes clothes and fashion now way more than he did when he first got on land (sensory overload anyone?), he still has certain fabrics/materials he avoids like the plague. Jade and Azul avoid said fabrics as well so he can run up and tackle them at any time without worry of touching the Gross Fabric. Tablecloths and cushions in the lounge were made with this in mind as well.

So sorry Scarabia lovers but I haven't studied Kalim or Jamil under a microscope long enough yet to come to any detailed conclusions, but neither of them are neurotypical that's for sure!!

Also skipping Pomefiore bc they scare me (/j I just don't pay much attention to them personally sjheiddjbdjffb)

I mean Idia is the obvious one, right? He's the most universally agreed on, he literally goes nonverbal regularly and has aids he made with his engineering/programming special interest to accommodate that, like it's just. It's RIGHT THERE ya know? He almost leaves nothing to discuss XDD Him and Riddle are clashing autistics and it's a shame, you hate to see 2 pretty people fight but especially when they're on the same team 😔

And then there's Diasomnia. HOOO BOY is there Diasomnia. Lilia and his gaggle of autistic kids. Starting with Malleus, he also almost leaves nothing to the imagination when it comes to how he is, like?? Idk it's so Right There!!! His special interest is gargoyles obviously, he also has heavy preference/safe foods, he never seems to be on the same page as his peers, leaving Jim to feel isolated and Different, not only does he not fluctuate his tone so people can't tell when he's joking, he can't hear tone to tell when other people are joking so it's just miscommunication after miscommunication. He enjoys learning now things but prefers the company of his most trusted people, that or either quite isolation in a dim/dark area to decompress!! He's the type of guy who doesn't realize he's been overstimulated for like 6 hours until he gets to his room and lays down and it hits him all at once and he's like OH! Oh THAT'S why I felt like shit and wanted to smite everything and everyone. Okay, cool.

Idk if this will make sense to anyone else but like, Silver is Disney princess coded, right? And Disney princesses are autistic coded in small ways, right? Yeah. Yeah that's really the only way I can explain it SKSBAIKSDHHD but like!! I know I'm right okay!!!! As a very very sleepy autistic person I just KNOW, I see him and I know. Also animals love him which like, understanding animals better than you understand if someone is trying to deceive/take advantage of you? Idk dude, that's pretty autistic /silly

Sebek is tough because I havent fixated on him at ALL and have like none of his cards, but the BIG STRONG INTENSE EMOTIONS and lack of volume control and how he's apparently actually very emotional/sensitive, and how he likes to stick to his routine and his people and anything that interferes will be YELLED AT ACCORDINGLY!!!! Idk, I don't really know this man (yet) so I also can't fully explain my vision here XD

Also, everything is platonic unless specified otherwise btw!! Yuri Jeizu is so canon, but to me the octotrio is like, SO queer platonic coded so I almost always just default to that akshsksndhf

It's nearly 4 in the morning and I'm going INSANE, like there's 8+ rambles I could send you about queer/identity headcanons and ships!!! I haven't even STARTED on the side characters yet, I have so much fuel in this hyperfixation fire!!! Also if you literally ever want me to stop for whatever reason let me know and I will, no hard feelings akdvejskfh, I know answering a lot of asks can be A Lot

PLEAS ENEVER STOP unless you run out of things to talk on !!!!!!!!!! this is so in-depth I'm reading and nodding like yes yes I get this I GET YOU... Also literally same with Scarabia LOLLL I skipped most of the story... sorry Scarabia stans... I literally only paid attention when the octatrio was around.. skull emoji!!

And actually answering tons of asks ain't that hard for me right now, I'm full of writing energy because I've been working on an AU between twst and another franchise I'm #insane about >_< (I've been trying so keep it at a not insane level of detail because I know I'll focus too hard on certain characters but I also desperately need feedback on it... NOT THAT I'M ASKING RIGHT NOE THOUH I'm just complaining aha) (unless.... unless..........)

Floyd finding an interest in fashion (especially shoes) is something I forget often for some reason, I think it's because I also hc that Floyd hate hate HATESS the feeling of clothes (just fuckin' all kinds of clothes, he especially hates having multiple layers of all different kinds of clothing items on at once) against his skin, so that's why his uniform is never on properly...

I can't talk a ton about lots of other dorms bc I'm so not deeply invested in at least half the entire cast HSAHHAJKFDJ but you are so incredibly real and right I'm shaking /pos

If it's 4am bestie boo you should probably sleep and save the ranting for tmr!!!! or don't, and just keep slaying here LMAOO I'm in a discord server SPECIFICALLY for twst hcs and I'm THIS close to c+psting a bunch of this into there (or just sharing the post I DONT KNOW) cuz it's SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!

[dilemmars]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ DIE WITH A SMILE. ”⠀⠀───⠀⠀arcane.

⠀⠀𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾.⠀( the base violence necessary for change , 9.3k words. )⠀by dilemmars.

1.⠀⠀ PAIRING⠀⠀:⠀⠀violet x f!reader.

2.⠀⠀GENRES⠀⠀:⠀⠀based on the storyline and universe of arcane ( league of legends tv show )⠀; first love trope, started dating recently, stablished relationship, exes to lovers. basically you and vi were dating before the start of the story, then got separated.

3.⠀⠀WARNINGS⠀⠀:⠀⠀i will add the warnings that the tv show has: slight presence of sex and nudity, foul language, alcohol, drugs and tobacco. moderate scenes of fear and terror. high content of violence and gore. in this third chapter, there's a lot going on. mentions of death, injuries, prostitution, blood, fights, and a brief suicidal thought at the end. please do not read if you're uncomfortable with it.

4.⠀⠀AUTHOR 'S NOTE⠀⠀:⠀⠀third chapter out! i'm so sorry thta it took me another full day to post a new chapter. i haven't even watched act 3 yet because i lit have no time, but i managed to finish this. it is very sad. i'm sorry about that too. but next chapter will be slightly more relaxed, with less drama, i promise. happy sunday 🤍

5.⠀⠀IMPORTANT⠀⠀:⠀⠀this is a work of fiction. i do not own arcane or any content produced or owned bychristian linke, alex yee, riot games or netflix. all rights belong to netflix and the writers of arcane. all plot events and character developments that are not related to the main character's story belong to the writers and creators of the series.

It's hard to know what your last breath will be, but sometimes you can feel the moment lurking, like a shadow looming over you, icy and heavy. Crouched on that rooftop, the air had a strange edge to it, as if each breath cut inside. The mist rising from the streets scratched at your throat, but it wasn't just mist. It was the weight of the inevitable.

You paused, frowning, as the usual swaying of the wooden sign of Benzo's caused your gaze to wander towards the entrance of the shop. And before you could comprehend what was happening, the scream came as a jolt, tearing through the silence of the night. It was as if the sound pierced your skin, sinking into your flesh, clinging to your bones. The kind of scream you can't help but hear, a gasp ripped from a throat. A hopeless, desperate voice that forces you to imagine the pain behind it. One last breath, and a body slumped to the ground.

And then, you caught a glimpse of him. A blurred figure, moving with a ferocity that seemed unnatural, unloading a punch on another uniformed officer, the glare of his gaze utterly animalistic. You cowered over the edge of the building, struggling not to look away, and flinched at the brutality of the pounding. The Enforcers all looked the same, with the metal mask and the blue cap, but the creature that had attacked them was familiar. It seemed less human with every movement, a mass of disfigured flesh and purplish meandering veins, but the curve of its chin, the soft wave of its hair... you had been so close to its face that you had come to memorise it.

Deckard. You recognised the sharp turn of his movements, accentuated in that state. You had felt his violence in your own skin, you knew it. Altered into a violent beast, he still retained some of that cruel strength, no doubt hindered by the way his body had grown and deformed. You saw him ignore the authoritative warning of a third Enforcer, and approach her at superhuman speed. In the blink of an eye, the police collapsed at his feet, like a drunk by a tavern door. Her blood spilled down the wall of the tent, sloshing everywhere, and you followed it with your eyes as it slid between the stones, thick, after Deckard had torn her flesh to the bone.

The force of his attack hit you like a shot in your chest, and you clutched at the concrete beneath your hands as if you could somehow anchor yourself to the past. There was silence in the weathered street. You could only hear your ragged breathing, quickening under your skin, and Deckard's silent footsteps as he disappeared. Night had fallen on Zaun like a blanket on your bed, and you felt it on your shoulders, suffocating you. You looked down again, where the rickety bodies of the agents lay like broken dolls on the pavement, their stiff fingers still gripping their pistols, and you could faintly distinguish the movement of someone approaching them in the shadows.

Measuring his pace, as if calculating every step he took, a fourth Enforcer approached the bodies of the fallen agents, his service gun in his hand, and he hesitated. For a moment you wanted to say something to him, to warn him perhaps, that there was a beast loose in the darkness, tell him to run away while he could, but a movement in the dusk stopped you. He was not alone. Behind him, shoulder to shoulder at the entrance to the shop, two frozen figures watched the scene. You felt a knot in your chest as you recognised them: Vander and Benzo. Their stances looked sharp, like a taut bow about to shoot an arrow, ready to defend themselves if necessary.

You leaned forward, caught between the urge to descend and the helplessness of knowing you could do nothing from up there, but something stopped you. You saw something dancing in the fog, the soft walk of a distorted silhouette slowly approaching from the other side of the street. You tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine, a shiver that was not only cold, but that also contained more than just that, the fear locked in your ribcage, rising up to feel it pulsing in your throat.

And then, the glow of embers in the night: a kaleidoscope of shadows and flames, pierced by a scar, so different from its twin that they looked like the eyes of two different people. The face, sharp, pale, and an imperturbable pace, so sure of himself that the ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet.

‘Silco?’ Benzo, hesitant, confused at first, turned rabid as he brandished the old silver candlestick in the direction of the unknown man. ‘You animal,’ he said, coming closer, stumbling, ’go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.’

You couldn't see the venomous smile that tugged at Silco's thin lips, but you did hear the desperate tone torn from Vander's throat as he raised his hands towards his friend, cuffed, useless, trying to prevent the inevitable, ‘Benzo, stay back!’

‘You never did know when to walk away,’ Silco's voice, velvety, echoed down the street, emptying the silence, and your heart stopped inside your chest as Benzo tried to pounce on him.

The motion was too fast for the human eye. One instant, Benzo had raged forward, steadfast, defying the impassive man of mist. The next, Deckard's raw strength had brought Benzo down in a bundle of violet swirls, the body of the one who had cared for you since you were a child lying lifeless on the ground. The creaking of his bones echoed wet and dry at the same time, like tree branches snapping under too much weight, the blood surging beneath his shoulders, as if fleeing from the veins it was ceasing to flow through.

From the rooftop, it all seemed painfully distant. You brought a trembling hand to your mouth, a scream dying in your throat, watching Deckard keep his hand on Benzo's neck. His crooked fingers seemed to tingle from feeling the violence of death again, waiting, hovering over Benzo to check that he was gone, and you heard Vander's torn whimper, his legs buckling under his weight, under the weight of loss.

‘Stubborn to the end,’ muttered Silco, relishing each word with reverence.

But then the Enforcer left standing dropped his arms, defeated, betrayed, half-face covered by the mask they wore so as not to breathe Zaun's toxic air, and questioned Silco angrily, ‘What the hell have you done? This wasn't the deal!’

The echo of his words expanded, vibrating inside your head as if searching for a place to linger, and you stood still, watching from the shadows as that chilling scene unfolded, kneeling on the edge of the building, utterly overwhelmed.

‘Deal's changed.’

Silco's words reverberated on the cobblestone floor of the poorly lit street, ringing in your ears, as you tried to clear your mind. You took a breath of air, which cut, cold, down your throat, and looked down. You could still hear his voice, ominously calm and low, and the clink of coins clattering on the floor. A deal. Between the topside and the underground. You frowned, realising that there were no fire stairs on that front, and accentuated your frown as you tried to understand why someone from Zaun would want to ally himself with an Enforcer, of all people.

Before you could even try to slide down the wall, however, leaping from window to window as you had done in the past, you heard Deckard's heavy footsteps on the cobblestone floor, and you raised your head. He was slowly approaching Vander, with no sign of a reaction from the owner of The Last Drop, letting out a low growl as the beast finally took up a position in front of him. His arm swung once like the pendulum of an old clock, and the punch blew against Vander's face with a low, muffled thud, causing him to stagger under its weight.

Your throat closed as you watched him anchor his legs to the ground to keep from falling. You saw him drop his shoulders, defeated, as if he had forgotten his own strength, and he stood just as still as you did whilst Deckard shoved his hand through Vander's hair, grabbing him violently and pulling him to the ground. You watched him, because you were unable to do anything else, as if fear had slid liquid across your skin until it solidified around your ankles, the monstrous creature dragging Vander across the ground. 

It was the certainty. Vander, who had picked you up off the street at your weakest moment, who had taught you how to defend yourself, who had shown you the resilience that characterised him like a class while learning how to make Powder's favourite juice, had been reduced to a shadow of his former self by a punch. What could you have done to stop it? To stand between Vander and the one who had abused you as much as he had wanted? To face Deckard's vicious eyes once more, risking losing him all the same?

It wouldn't have helped.

You watched them walk, Silco's figure turning away from the chaos of shadows and death he left behind him, while Deckard followed close behind, gripping Vander's hair with a bruising strength. Your fingers itched. You had braided that hair many times, elaborate and funny designs as you grew up, but those hands were treating it cruelly, a monster freed of any kind of sentience. And it hurt. Watching them disappear into the fog, the Enforcer staggering down the street to the other side, it stung like an open wound. You bit your cheek, holding back the tears that threatened to slide down your skin, and felt the blood on your tongue like a foul aftertaste.

And then you heard it. The cry, choked and broken, that pierced your chest like a sharp knife. You stood up, waking the legs that had felt numb against the concrete edge of the rooftop, and moved on instinct, ignoring the insignificant discomfort of your ankle every time you leaned on it.

It was Vi. You slid across the roof, your feet seeking support on the nearest window ledge, hanging on to it to climb down to the next, and continued descending. You followed the heartbreaking sound of Vi's voice, drowning out her own sobs, and swallowed all the emotions you didn't want to feel, focused on finding your girlfriend. The polish of your nails peeled as you buried your fingers in joints between bricks, clinging to them to keep from falling to the ground, and you closed your eyes tightly before you took the last leap, placing most of your weight on your good foot as you landed on the ground.

You rose to your feet, a shiver running through your skin, as you heard the piercing cry of frustration, and turned to face it with a jolt. It had come from Benzo's shop. Had she been there all that time? You frowned, restless, and turned towards the massacre, clenching your jaw and staring straight ahead. You had to get Vi out of there. That was your priority. You couldn't afford to look at the ground, to collapse. Every breath you took, the air sounded slightly ragged, as if you were about to scream but held back, and you clenched your hands into fists as you dodged the bodies sprawled on the floor.

Your first step into Benzo's shop was hesitant, like an unconfident fawn's. You didn't want to think that it was the first time you would enter the place knowing that its owner would never come back to wait for you behind the counter, but the certainty came back to you again and again, as if brought by the tide. There was almost no light, the little oil lamps that were scattered around the shelves were off, as if they held a mourning you had not yet faced, and the darkness brought with it a feeling of coldness that dug into your bones.

‘Vi,’ you whispered, your choked voice faintly spilling across the room. ‘Vi!’ you repeated, louder.

You heard your name, low, dazed, almost vanishing into thin air, and tried to follow it. It was the storage room. She had been locked in the storeroom.

‘Wait!’ you said, rushing to the counter, ‘I'll get you out!’

You tried to piece together what had happened, your hand searching in the gloom for the spare key Benzo always kept in the wooden drawers. It was in Vi's nature to have tried to fix everything herself. It was inherent in her, to carry as much of the burden as possible so that her siblings —and even you, if you got into trouble— wouldn't have to suffer the consequences. You didn't know how she could have warned the Enforcers, but you knew they had come to Benzo's shop for her. You knew it as clearly as you knew you would have done the same for her if it had happened.

But if Vander had shown up, it was also because he had discovered her. And if he had been wearing the handcuffs, it had been him who had locked her in the storeroom. To stop her from doing another stupid thing. Maybe Vander wasn't her biological father, but a strained smile tugged at your lips at the thought that they were more alike than they allowed themselves to think they were.

When your fingertips brushed against the metal frame of the key, you grabbed onto it, running the few meters between the countertop and the door behind which Vi stood. Your hands trembled as you slid it into its lock, holding your breath as you tried a second time, and you turned it on its axis twice, as you had done so many times in the past, pulling the heavy door off its hinges so that you could wrap your arms around Vi's body.

She clung to you tightly, choking her sobs in the crook of your neck, and the silence grew heavy around you, empty of hope. You felt Vi's hands squeeze your shirt, squeezing your body against hers, her warm tears sliding down your skin. You looked up at the ceiling, letting out a shaky sigh between your lips, and ran your hand up her back until it was tangled in her hair. Her shoulders shook under your touch to the rhythm of her own sobs, and you stayed still beside her for as long as she needed, allowing her to collapse.

‘Did you see what happened?’ you finally murmured against her hair, as her breathing slowly regulated.

‘Not much,’ she replied, her voice broken by tears, pulling away from you to rub her hands across her face. ‘Did you?’

‘It was Benzo...’ you began, and you hated the way you faltered before continuing. ‘They killed Benzo. And the Enforcers, some of them...’

‘And Vander?’

‘He's alive,’ you said, sliding your hand down his arm. ‘They took him.’

And your breath hitched as you realised.

He was alive. They had taken him, but he was still alive. Your mind was scrambling, trying to plan an impulse that came to you like a tug at your heart, watching the tears glisten on Vi's freckled cheeks. You couldn't let her lose someone else. Piltover had taken enough from her. Vander was still alive, you told yourself. He was still breathing, his chest was rising and falling, even if he hadn't had the strength to rise and confront them. He was alive, and you still had a chance to fight for him.

Your face took on a more worried tinge, ‘We need to find out where they've taken him.’

Vi looked up at you, her unfocused eyes darting across your face, but she nodded.

‘I know where,’ muttered a voice behind you. You turned abruptly, brow furrowed in distrust, and felt the pain wither against your ribcage. Ekko.

Little Ekko, never as small as he looked at that moment, his shoulders slumped forward and his crystallised gaze fixed on you. You took a step forward, ready to take him in your arms, but it was he who crossed the distance between you, taking refuge in your embrace. The pained expression on his face melted into tears as you snaked your hands around his back, and your own lump in your throat threatened to unravel as you felt him cry against your chest.

‘They killed him,’ he murmured, over and over against your skin, choking back his own tears.

‘I know, kid,’ you replied, unable to understand what you were supposed to do at that moment. You felt the warmth of unshed drops in your own eyes, and fought against them, burying your face in his hair as you felt one slide down your cheek. ‘I'm sorry, I'm sorry.’

‘We'll get them, Ekko,’ Vi promised, resting one hand on your back, stroking you comfortingly, and another on the boy's shoulder.

He parted slowly, rubbing his hand over his cheeks as Vi had done a few minutes before, and looked at the two of you, trying to gather the energy to speak. You couldn't stop to think what it must have felt like, watching Benzo die like that and still finding the strength to follow the perpetrators, the murderers, just so you could have a glimmer of hope of getting Vander back. He had been very brave.

‘It should be quick,’ you said, cradling his face in your hand, the pain shining in your gaze. ‘An hour and a half, maybe, tops two hours.’ You slid your gaze slightly to Vi, who was watching you with her brows furrowed in a helpless gesture, and added, ‘If we're not back then, please, go to my Mom's, yeah?’

Your mother would know what to do. She always did. She would take care of Ekko.

‘But...,’ he stammered, and you decided to ignore the way his chin began to tremble again, new tears gathering in his almond-shaped dark eyes.

‘No buts, Ekko,’ you replied, interrupting him gently. You took a breath of air, tangling your fingers in his short pale hair, pulling him to your body, and held him tightly in your arms. ‘I need you to be safe, please,’ you implored.

‘I don't want to lose you,’ he murmured against the fabric of your shirt, and you felt every movement of his lips, your own face struggling not to cry. 

You looked up, blinking back tears, sighing the lump in your throat, ‘You won't,’ you told him, stroking his white curls, ‘you have my word. I'll come back in one piece.’

You forced yourself to pull away from him, your hands on his shoulders, and slid your thumb over his cheeks to wipe away the strands of tears that had leaked from his eyes, trying to muster the courage to flash a crooked smile. It wasn't easy, but you couldn't afford to look weak. Not in front of him, not when he needed you more than ever.

‘Besides,’ you whispered, unbuttoning your waistcoat, holding the pocket watch between your fingers, resting it against his chest in a graceful motion, ‘who's going to look after my watch while I'm gone?’

‘Are you going to let me keep it?’ he asked, cupping it in his two hands as if it were a treasure. He slid his fingertips over the silver curve of its circumference, over the twelve chipped numbers you had drawn above it - all Roman numerals - and looked up at you.

‘Forever,’ you promised, nodding solemnly.

He pounced on you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and you melted into his embrace with closed eyes, memorising every detail. Vi joined in a sigh, wrapping her strong arms around you, and for a moment you remained buried under your own skin, wishing that it was all a nightmare and that when you opened your eyes, the rapid breathing, tears and screams were just part of yet another of your childish games.

Reality was far crueler than a kid's imagination.

You felt Vi's hand intertwined with yours like a shackle pulling you back to consciousness, the faint discomfort of your ankle keeping you sane as she led you to The Last Drop. You hadn't exchanged a word since you had left Ekko in the same room of broken glass you had fled from that morning, hidden in the rafters of the ceiling, and both of remained trapped in your minds, thoughts running at too much speed.

It was difficult to face such a situation. As inhabitants of Zaun, loss was part of your DNA. You came into the world crying for the loss of your future, a future that had been taken from you at the founding of the city, and you mourned the violence that you would inevitably encounter, ever-present in the streets of the underground. Vi had endured the death of her biological parents, as had Powder and the rest of the Vander children, and you had been born without knowing who your father was, growing up surrounded by brutality.

You didn't know what your girlfriend was thinking, but you tried to remember if you'd ever spent enough time in the docks to have been able to investigate the large building that loomed over the water, as if it were floating. Ekko had claimed to see the man of mist and Deckard disappear within its tall brick walls, but had refused to come any closer. You had left a soft kiss on his forehead as a farewell, and in a glance you and Vi had known what to do.

Vander had trained you for such a moment. He had spent years teaching you how to defend yourselves, practising boxing with you, training you to take care of your own. You had always assumed it would be complicated, any fight was. But as much as Vander had been a proponent of using violence, in his past, you had also learned peace. It was clear that Silco would not accept a dialogue, a bargain of any kind. He had negotiated with that Enforcer for Vander. Vander had been his target.

The importance of acting was to do it right. And if you sneaked in and out, as you'd done so many times before to get some food, you'd all sleep on the top floor of The Last Drop that night, listening to Vander's snoring, the sheets moving every time Powder rolled over in her bed, and Vi's body warm against yours.

The bar was dead silent when you slipped in through the back door, and you assumed Vander would have closed up before he went to find Vi. You waited a few moments for her as she went inside to fetch the gauntlets Vander always kept hanging over the counter, and slipped down the stairs to the small room in the basement of the building when she returned with a shake of her head. Someone had taken them.

‘Vi?’ uttered Claggor, turning to you as she opened the door. He added your name, avoiding the hint of a question. You tried to force a smile as you realised that they had always assumed that if one of you was there, the other would appear shortly after.

Vi came down the stairs two at a time, ignoring the two boys, and slid her eyes around the room, searching for the gauntlets, ‘Where are the...?’

You sat on one of the steps, listening to the soft thump of Powder's body as she pounced on her older sister, and pulled your trousers up to your knee, untying your laces at full speed. Whenever Vi was set on something, she acted on instinct and with great speed. You didn't know if she would look for something more —except perhaps other weapons— but you delegated finding them to her. You had little time to slow down the way your ankle was going to worsen its condition irremediably in the remainder of the night.

Nor did you have much more strength than she did to explain what had happened.

You pulled off the bandages you carried in your pocket, resting them on the old wood of the stairs, as you heard Vi's quickened breathing echo through the room, pulling your injured foot up a step to remove your boot. You looked up when you heard Mylo protest, ‘Hey, those are Vander's,’ he said, grabbing Vi by the wrist. ‘Slow down. What is going on?’

‘Benzo's dead,’ she muttered, and you closed your eyes for a moment, before continuing to untie the tight knot in your shoes. 

‘Dead?’ Claggor repeated, and you wondered if you were better off waiting outside. You removed your sock, shook your head, took a breath of air, and picked up the bandages, placing your foot on the knee of your other leg.

‘They took Vander.’

‘Who took Vander?’ added Claggor, as you began to wrap the bandage around your ankle, taut, inflexible on your skin, tense enough so that when you came back your joints wouldn't resent it. You did it angrily, trying to bury all the emotions you had managed to control so far.

‘I don't know,’ you heard Vi reply, and her voice sounded slightly closer as she turned to include you in the conversation, ’we're gonna help him.’

‘We're going with you,’ Mylo replied, almost as if he was hurt that it hadn't occurred to you earlier.

You put your sock back on when the bandages felt like a second skin over your foot, and tied your boots tightly. A bloody sprain wasn't going to stop you from rescuing Vander. It wasn't going to stop you from bringing him back, safely, home. You weren't going to let it. You looked up, sighing, and tried to intervene.

‘Whatever killed Benzo...’ you said, and your breath caught in your throat.

‘It was nothing like I've ever seen,’ Vi continued, and her voice trembled as much as yours. ‘It tore him apart.’

You saw the way her shoulders tensed before even the first sob slipped from her mouth, but you didn't have a chance to approach her before her brothers, who embraced her warmly, all united by stubbornness and impotence. Vi put her hands to her face, covering the obstinate tears she did not want to let fall down her cheeks, and you knew she had come to the same conclusion as you. They were both going to want to go with you, and you were going to need their help, no matter how much Vi wanted to keep them safe.

‘You're not doing this alone,’ Claggor stated, determined.

‘He's our father too,’ Mylo added, his hand tracing circles on Vi's back. ’Do we know where they took him?’

‘Ekko followed them,’ you interjected, clearing your throat as Vi stowed what her brothers had left on the table in one of the backpacks you always left lying around. ‘The old cannery next to the docks. He said...’

You looked up from the backpack, calming yourself once you realised it had been the boys who had taken the gauntlets, but the muscles in your back tensed again as you noticed Powder standing in front of you, a look of determination on her face, and a suitcase in her hands. Of course she wanted to go with you too.

Vi turned to you as she heard you hesitate, and exhaled an exhausted sigh at the sight of her sister.

‘I need you to sit this one out, Powder,’ she asked, approaching her.

‘What?’ her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and your heart crumpled in your chest. Ekko had been easier to convince because he had seen what had happened. He was shocked, willing to wait for you to return. But Powder had always followed his sister's example, longing for a chance to show her worth and to stop being treated like a child.

‘You're not coming,’ and Powder's expression was worse than if she'd received a slap in the face.

‘I'm not afraid,’ she replied, desperate within the quietness of her response.

You couldn't intervene on this occasion. Nor were Mylo and Claggor going to. It went beyond their sense of responsibility, this was a blood sister fight to see which of the two would get their way. And the older one always had the upper hand.

‘It's too dangerous,’ Vi added, and you didn't have to see the gleam in her eye to know that she needed Powder to listen to her, to understand why she was asking so much of her.

‘But families stick together,’ Powder continued, accentuating his frown, ’you said it yourself.’

‘I know what I said...’

‘I want to fight,’ she announced, and the freckles creased on her cheeks as she looked up, raging, at Vi. ‘I can help.’

‘You're not ready,’ Vi replied, and her sharp tone cut over Powder's determination, shattering what hope remained. You saw how Vi held her breath for a moment, regretting her choice of words, and tried to correct them in a whisper. ‘You're all I have left,’ she said, resting the palm of her hand against Powder's cheek. ‘I can't lose you.’

‘Here,’ you uttered, in a soft, conciliatory tone, approaching them with one of the flares you had in a box under the stairs. It was a blue smoke one, a symbol you had talked about more than once with Powder, making jokes about the colour of her hair.

Vi took it gently from your hands, handing it to her little sister, ‘If they come for you, take this and run,’ she whispered, her gaze locked on Powder's pale pink eyes. ‘Wherever you are, light it up and I'll find you.’

Eyes shining, you almost couldn't hear the last words, a gentle ‘I promise’ murmured against Powder's face as she leaned down to rest her forehead against her sister's, memorising the warmth of her body before parting. You turned, beckoning Mylo and Claggor up the stairs, and you followed, leaving the sisters a few more seconds together.

The mood seemed somewhat subdued, Mylo's mouth closed in an altogether uncharacteristic muteness, and you peeled back your lips to make some comment to cheer them. The words died in your throat when you reached the landing, suddenly surrounded by Claggor's arms, and you held your breath in surprise.

‘I'm sorry,’ he said, and Mylo repeated it, both of them hugging you.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of weakness, and let out a choked sob against Claggor's shoulder, still feeling the lump in your throat.

‘It's not your fault,’ you murmured back, ’it's not.’

‘It's not yours either,’ Vi uttered, and you turned your face towards her, who had just appeared through the door.

You tried to curl your lips into a grateful smile, your eyelids quivering to keep from shedding a tear, ‘I know.’

But it wasn't true, because you could never find out what would have happened if you had come down from that rooftop before Silco appeared, if you had warned the Enforcers of Deckard's presence. It was already in the past, you had lost your opportunity. Maybe, if you had confronted them while Vander and Benzo were still conscious, everything would be fine. Maybe your presence would had led them to fight back. And that was something Vi didn't know either.

You trailed behind, but kept pace as Vi led you through the crooked streets of Zaun, turning corners and ignoring drunken men, towards the city borders. The docks were not a highly desirable place, though one to which Madam sent many prostitutes on the days of disembarkation. Most traders transacted goods with the topside, and its bright and shiny harbours, but those who dealt in coal and alcohol had to make a stop at the Lanes, and the black market in its streets.

That building, however, looked even darker in the moonlight, the mist rising from the water creating a cloak of eerie mystery around it. You walked around its perimeter in a couple of minutes, trying to figure out which entrance was the most secluded but best accessible, and it was your keen eye that located an open window on the first floor. You climbed onto Claggor's shoulders, a rope at your shoulder, and clung tightly to one of the pipes, checking with a smirk that it would be able to support your weight.

Of the four of you, you were the best at climbing. You were elusive, small and slender for your age, even more so than the children of Zaun, no doubt a consequence of the fact that on many days your mother had been unable to offer you food to put in your mouth. The need to hide had made you learn to duck between the rooftops of the city, and though Vi was better at leaping from building to building, you were certainly the sneakiest of the bunch.

You even seemed to glide along the facades, you'd been told, clawing at bricks and picking out which spots on the wall were best to rest your limbs on, as you were doing at the moment. You panted as you managed to get your arm over the window sill, sliding your leg over so that you could slide into the building, and held your breath as you glanced down the dark corridor. No one seemed to be there. You grabbed the coiled rope you had slung over your shoulder and began to drag it down the window, waiting for Vi's two tugs before you crouched on the floor and braced your feet against the wall.

You held on, with the rope wrapped around your waist and tugging at it while the others climbed, and left it hidden under the window once everyone had climbed up. In case any guards found it, they wouldn't know where to start looking, and you doubted you would need it to escape. Vander was too heavy and too weakened to get out the way you had come in.

You scanned the corridors of the warehouse, rusty platforms stacked in a narrow space, and hurried to take up position behind Claggor, the four of you forming a line with Vi in front and Mylo last, slouching forward under the riveted iron pipe railings. Vi signalled to you when she realised that there was a poorly lit room on the upper floor, and you all hurried up the stairs, still crouching. 

When you reached the other side of the corridor, Vi leaned forward, peering quickly, and turned to you with a triumphant smile, voicelessly pronouncing that Vander was there. You rested a hand on Claggor's shoulder as you felt Mylo's on your waist, and you advanced at a rapid pace until you reached the room, where Vander sat, defeated, in a big iron chair, all his limbs imprisoned by metal straps, fastened by padlocks.

You saw him spit blood, his broad chest straining to breathe out a hoarse cough, and he whispered a soft ‘Vi,’ his unfocused eyes closing as he felt his eldest daughter's arms slipping around his shoulders in a hug. His tone became more urgent as he realised you were really there, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We're breaking you out,’ Vi explained, as you picked up the backpack she had left on the ground.

You opened it, kneeling on the ground, and pulled out the lock-picking device you had built for Mylo. It didn't always work, but it was the best you had. ‘Mylo,’ you called, and tossed the gadget to him.

‘On it!’

You turned towards the door, rising to your feet to check that no one was coming in, your fingers tingling to check the time on a watch you no longer had, but you froze when you heard Vander's husky voice.

‘How... how did you get in?’ he said, stuttering hurriedly over the words that were building up in his mouth. ‘There's guards everywhere.’

Oh God. Of course it had been a trap. 

‘It was easy,’ you heard Vi reply, her tone losing its strength as the realisation dawned on her. ‘We found an open window and...’

You rushed over to the backpack, hastily pulling out the weapons that Claggor and Mylo had gathered, as you saw Claggor's figure hurrying to grab his favourite dagger, trying to release one of Vander's wrists from its prison. The man made eye contact with you, Vi stepping behind you to watch the door, and you held back a sob as you heard Vander again, ‘You have to get out. Now.’

No. You weren't going to leave him again. You weren't going to fail at the same task twice. There had to be time, you could do it. Silco's men probably hadn't even realised you were in yet, you had a chance, you could....

But you heard a clap reverberate through the warehouse, soft and dangerous, and your breath caught in your throat.

Silco.

‘Welcome,’ he murmured, his voice flowing like a river down its course, the sound of his rhythmic clapping coming hopelessly closer to you, ‘you have my congratulations,’ you tried to ignore it, to keep the memory of his tone from bringing back the vision of Benzo's body falling to the ground, but it came to you with the force of a storm, leaving you breathless, ‘but i'm afraid this will be a very short reunion.’

You refused to turn toward him, your hands instinctively gripping Vander's gauntlets, and Vi positioned herself at your side, shooting a defiant glare at the man of mist as she held out her arms for you to place Vander's weapons on her.

‘Have you heard the rumours?’ he added, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, ‘Vander the coward fled town with his children. And they were never seen again.’

You finished knotting the second gauntlet to your girlfriend's wrist, the straps stiff but comfortable on her pale skin, and exchanged a glance with her. You were going to make it. You rested your hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly, and she gave you a fragile but sincere smile, real, just for you. Vi was the best at boxing. You took a quick glance back, your gaze hardening as you saw that Silco was surrounded by his followers, a bunch of buff men and women, all of them ready to fight. You sighed, determined. If there was anyone who could take on a man two heads taller, and visibly stronger, it was her.

You moved your hand up to the nape of her neck, stroking the lower part of her hair, and closed your eyes as you rested your forehead on his. It was a good-luck caress, a wish to go home, a temporary goodbye. She took a breath of air, parting from you reluctantly, as she always did, and positioned herself at your back. You saw the way Claggor's dagger broke from too much pressure, and heard Vi's first step toward the door.

‘Claggor, see if you can find another way out of here,’ you ordered him, rotating your shoulders. You saw him nod, watching out of the corner of your eye as Mylo wrestled with the device in the lock on Vander's right leg. Claggor nodded. Vander looked at you, concerned.

‘You don't have to do this,’ he said, but you knew he was talking to Vi.

‘Yes I do,’ she replied, determined, resolved.

Your priority was to get Vander out of there, to get everyone home safely. You ignored Vander's strangled gasp as Vi's quickened footsteps echoed over the metal lattice floor of the corridor, and you brought your hands to your head, grabbing the two long metal bobby pins you wore in your hair, both sharp and U-shaped. You crouched down next to Vander's other leg, and picked up the padlock. Inventions were your thing, you had to figure out how to open it.

You looked over your shoulder when you heard a thud behind you, momentarily startled, but smiled as you saw Vi, exultant in the middle of the bridge, and in the floor the body of the giant tattooed man you had seen when you turned around. That was your girl. You inserted one of the hairpins into the lock hole, noticing how Vander relaxed minimally against the seat as he saw that his daughter was perfectly capable, and then turned the other, recreating the teeth of a key. You imagined the mechanism under the padlock's metal cover, turning its gears to loosen.

Everything was going to be all right.

‘Mylo,’ you heard Vander, and saw out of the corner of your eye that Mylo had slipped the device to the floor. ‘You can do this.’

You looked over at Claggor, your fingers struggling against the lock, and saw that he had found a crack in the wall. There were enough tools in the backpack for him to open a hole. Perfect. You took a breath of air, forcing your wrist to turn the downward facing bobby pin all the way around, and the locking bow opened with a soft snap. You removed the hairpins, withdrawing the lock, and Vander rested his leg on the ground.

‘We're gonna get you out,’ you murmured, crouching down next to Mylo. ‘Hey, Myls,’ you said, laying your hands on top of his, helping him move them nimbly, ‘big breath.’

You felt him inhaling briefly, closing his eyes to feel the gears of the device against his palm, and you exchanged a glance as the smooth sound was repeated, releasing Vander's other leg.

‘We got this,’ he whispered, more encouraged.

‘Of course we do,’ you replied, placing a hand on Vander's knee to pull yourself to your feet.

Vi's soft panting continued to echo off the walls of the warehouse, to the rhythm of the punches of her gauntlet-covered fists as they impacted against the bodies of Silco's minions, and you looked back once more. Vi was rising against a bare-chested man, her shoulders tense, turned so that she could deliver another blow.

You focused on the lock on Vander's wrist as Mylo did the same on the other side of the chair, holding your hairpins tightly, moving your hands as fast as you could. You listened to your heart pounding in your ears, for a moment drowning out all sound from outside, like every time you secluded yourself in your studio, until you heard the first howl.

It reverberated in your mind, emptying it of all thought, like a shadow stretching over you. Deckard. You turned, eyes widening in horror, the mass of flesh that was the boy who had once abused you looming over Vi, and for a moment your heart stopped in your chest. In the darkness, you were only able to make out the fluorescent violet color of his veins, Vi's light pink hair, facing each other. You had seen what Deckard was capable of. You weren't going to let Vi end up like Benzo and those Enforcers.

‘Mylo, hurry,’ Vander pleaded, as you twisted the hairpins urgently, releasing the lock as soon as it gave way.

You turned toward the backpack, watching in horror as Vi leapt toward Deckard, and grabbed the first thing you saw. A piece of pipe, thin and hard against your hand, long enough that you could strike without getting too close. It wasn't a sword, but it would have to do. You looked up, checking that Claggor had already begun removing bricks from the wall, and advanced toward the deck, ignoring the way Deckard had grabbed Vi by the neck.

‘Silco, let her go!’ shouted Vander, slamming his free hand on the armrest of his chair. ‘This is between you and me!’

‘You had your chance,’ Silco replied, not even flinching.

Vi coughed, a choked, desperate sound, followed by a scraped gasp in her throat, seeking oxygen, and you slid onto the metal walkway. Deckard was barely aware that you had moved behind him, too focused on snatching every last breath of air from your girlfriend's lungs, and he dropped her against the ground as you jumped, unloading the pipe against his skull with all the force you had.

Deckard grumbled, an anguished scream spilling from his mouth, and you let go of the pipe, running to Vi. You slung one of her arms over your shoulders, one of yours around her waist, and carried her back to the room where Vander was, panting, the pain in your ankle beginning to awaken. You gritted your teeth, leaving Vi on the floor, leaning against the wall, and charged over to the sliding iron door, doing your best to close it. When you felt the door slam as it hit the wall, blocking Deckard's access, you pushed past the latch, collapsing against the floor, your shoulder pressed up to the door, just in case.

��You did good,” Vander whispered, looking at you, at Vi, his gaze clouded with admiration.

You merely nodded, exhausted, as Claggor continued to throw bricks, opening a large hole in the wall. You felt light, despite your tiredness, and leaned your head against the door. Mylo was struggling with the last lock, but you knew he was going to make it. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a heartbeat, sighing, a moment of quiet before the first bang came. It echoed through the room, metallic and dry, and you felt it coursing through your body. Deckard was trying to reach you all.

You watched as Vi sat up, the one fist that still retained a gauntlet resting on the ground to stand, and tried to crawl to sit beside you, her chest rising and falling at full speed. There was only waiting, you knew. A slow, agonizing wait, until the boys were done with their part of the mission. You felt Vi lean her head on your shoulder, your bodies moving in time to Deckard's pounding, straining against the door to try and hold on as long as it took, and you clenched your jaw.

You were going to make it. A knock, a furtive glance at Mylo, and you heard the soft sound of the lock being released. You were going to make it. One punch, your shoulders tensed, and Vander was finally free. You. Were. Going. To. Make. It. One punch. A gentle squeeze on Vi's free hand. And Claggor finished tore a hole in the wall. You stood up, advancing forward, and then, just silence.

Suddenly, an explosion. You stopped, alert, your eyes wide, and turned to Vi. She had the same terrified expression on her face, one hand resting on the door to pull herself to her feet. You listened carefully over your ragged breathing, your ankle throbbing, your throat dry. Another explosion, closer this time. You turned to Vander, frowning, looking at him as if he could have some kind of answer. He extended his hand toward you, gesturing for Vi to hurry towards them.

A third explosion, and the world around you ceased to exist.

The crackling of the fire, soft and malleable in your ears, was what greeted you when you woke up. Your mouth felt dry, ragged, as if you had swallowed dust, but you opened it anyway, taking in a big breath of air. The oxygen burned your tongue, your eyes still closed, and you tried to move your hands, but you were unable to. You were caught.

The weight of certainty hovered over your ribcage, imprisoning it against the ground, and you moved your head on the cement beneath you, the ground warm against your forehead. You breathed in a second time, your respiration becoming more erratic, and then it hit you. Ashes. There were ashes everywhere, flames eating up the space in the room as if to make you disappear.

You opened your eyes, hearing a faint cough somewhere, and tried to focus your gaze on some point, but you saw only shadows and fire, dancing over you, coming closer, taunting you, and then going away again. You turned your head, looking for some familiar figure, Vander's comforting gaze in the darkness, Vi's soothing touch on your skin, but you were alone. You clenched your jaw, trying to fight against the stone that held you prisoner on the ground, but you found it impossible.

And then, a cry. In a déjà vu, you stirred again under your stone prison, turning toward the desperate sound of Vi's voice. You couldn't see her, but you knew she was there. Your chest was beginning to ache under the weight of the stone, each time managing to breathe less and less air, but you gritted your teeth, struggling, and managed to get a hand out. You mumbled your girlfriend's name, calling her name amidst the chaos, and sobbed when you got no response.

It seemed like the end. You felt dirty, drenched in sweat, stiff under the night of Zaun, and you were unable to perceive your legs, dumb under the stone. They were bricks, probably. Or the roof, perhaps. Snippets of the explosion came back to your memory, the dull sound against your ears, the brutality of the shockwave, and you looked straight ahead again. Vi was there, somewhere, and you had to get to her.

You fought against the cement block above you, trying to move it with your hips, with your arms, doing everything you could to get out of there, until you heard your name. In a wail, low and desperate, to your right. You turned, ignoring the laceration from the edge of the stone on your torso, and saw her. Her clear, frightened gaze, calling for you, the desperate gesture of her body. She was trapped under the metal door.

A growl, a large, dark silhouette in the smoke, and pounding. But you ignored them. You tried to turn a little more, struggling to reach Vi, your fingernails clawing at the ground and the ashes under your hand, dragging you towards her. Then the floor began to shake under your fingers, the ringing in your ears intensifying. The door imprisoning Vi flew off, and she crawled over to you, her hand outstretched in search of yours.

You stretched out your arm to reach for her, flinching as you heard a pained shout from Vander, extending your fingers, reaching out as far as you could for her, but before you could finally touch her fingers, a monstrous figure loomed over both of you, snarling, and grabbed Vi's body, leaping out of the building.

Your hand fell to the ground, defeated, and the walls that were left standing shook with the force of another explosion. You closed your eyes, stubborn, and shook yourself. You had to get to Vi. You had to find her, and Vander, and together you would search for Mylo and Claggor. You would return home. Nothing would have been in vain.

The flames crackled louder around you, almost warning you that getting up was a bad idea, but you ignored them. You weren't going to listen to them. You rested one hand on the ground, the other pulling the stone above you. You weren't strong enough to be able to lift it, but maybe you could wriggle out from under it. You were good at crawling, you could do it. You heard a cry of pain, distant but sharp against your chest, wholly yours. Your shoulder began to burn.

The first drop landed on your cheek. For a moment you thought it was blood, thick and dark against your skin, but then another fell on your chest, light and cool, and a next, and a next. Rain. It was raining. Water, cold and clear, that made the fire sizzle around you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you rested your shoulder on the ground, the dust and rain soothing the burns that threatened to sear your flesh, and leaned forward again. One arm in front of the other, ignoring the pain, pulling yourself back up as you fell to the ground, slowly and achingly moving forward.

Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand up. The bandages on your ankle were soaked in blood, which slid down from your thigh, staining everything in its path. Your torso was bruised, throbbing against your hand, and your ears were ringing. You leaned against the stone that had been above you, towering over it, and blinked, sliding your gaze around the room.

And then you saw them, Mylo and Claggor. Buried under the pieces of ceiling that had collapsed on top of you, motionless, drained of blood. Your breath caught in your throat, and you took a step toward them, a sob piercing your throat. There was nothing to be done, you knew. Still you knelt beside them, stroking Claggor's face, running your mangled fingers through Mylo's hair. You couldn't leave them. They were your family, you had to take care of them.

Powder's desperate scream echoed across the starry sky of Zaun, and your heart pulled forward in your ribs, your head turning toward the giant gap in the wall. Powder. She was supposed to be safe, in The Last Drop. She wasn't supposed to see any of this. She was supposed to wait for you to come back, in a couple of hours, and hold each other, perhaps commenting on it all as a successful anecdote. Mourning Benzo, honoring his memory.

Powder wasn't supposed to be there.

You rose to your feet once more, brow furrowed in concentration, gritting your teeth as you braced your injured leg on the floor, crawling, leaning against the walls to get out of there. You walked the metal corridors of the deserted building, of the cemetery of concrete and fire, descending the stairs one at a time, holding back the screams of pain that threatened to spill out of your mouth. You had to get to her, protect her, look for Vi, find Vander. Together you'd be okay. You always had been. You could make it through, with Ekko, with your mother's help. You would make it. You could fix it.

The night air greeted you like a slap in the face, the empty street echoing your footsteps. No one was there. You had heard Powder, you were sure. But she wasn't there. In a haze of light and shadow, you saw a body on the ground. Everything was gone, but there was another corpse right in front of you. You approached slowly, limping, gasping for breath, until you were able to recognize his face.

It was not Deckard, as you had wished. It was Vander's bruised and deformed face, turned into a monstrous beast, the violet blood spilled under his body. You put a hand to your mouth, falling to your knees beside him, collapsing. And the lump in your throat finally burst, a scream leaving your mouth, resting your forehead on his chest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

You looked up, the loneliness caressing an uneasy shiver across your skin, and stared before you, seeing nothing.

Sometimes your last breath doesn't belong to you. It is stolen, ripped away by others with firm and merciless hands. One second, one heartbeat, one desperate look. One second, one heartbeat, and life leaves your eyes. Other times you hold your breath, the emptiness opening in your chest, deepening as you try to contain it. You tell yourself it's the end, that you need it to be. But it isn't. You end up breathing. You let the oxygen invade you again, even though it feels like a weight on your chest. You keep breathing, even though you wish you weren't.

⠀⠀𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.⠀( send an ask or comment under the series to be part of it , just if you're going to interact with it ━reblogging with feedback. )⠀@im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @celestialzdiviner , @corpsebridenightamare , @louissst28 , @astr1dblogs , @notsolarry , @starlostastronaut , @yoonkinii , @padsfirewhisky , @luvrluvrr , @ssqra , @darkmoonchic , @urlocalsabito , @spicetouched , @astrxwitch , @deadlynightshadebylana , @bachirastoe , @pickmmeup , @your-scarlett-world

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[zegrasdrysdale]

Hey! Could you write a John Marino x Reader fluff where he has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and he brings her to family skate and they being super cute and everyone has no idea who she is and he basically hard launches the relationship to everyone? Thank you!!

[ since when ] j. marino

pairing : John Marino x fem!reader

summary : John brings his girlfriend of several months to family skate before the Stadium Series game, surprising everyone

warning(s) : none ! just some tooth rotting fluff

author’s note : i am all over the place w requests so pls bear w me while i try to get them out for y'all. this is on the shorter end and prob not my best work but i hope you all like it <33

༺═──────────────═༻

"Are you sure?" she questions as John runs around like a crazy man to grab this things so they can leave. "I don't want to ruin family skate for you."

John stops and looks at her from the front door of the apartment. An equipment bag slung over his shoulder.

“I would love to have you there,” he replies. He drops the bag on the ground by the door and walks over to her where she stands in the hallway that leads to their room. “I love you and want you there.”

She’s still very hesitant despite his reassurance. “What if your teammates don’t like me?” she asks. “I’ve never met them. Or their wives and girlfriends.”

“They’ll love you,” he tells her. “I promise. I might throw them off by bringing you and showing you off but they’ll love you.”

Showing you off.

The one thing that John hasn’t been afraid of doing is showing her off. She’s been introduced to his non-hockey friends and his parents. All John did was brag about about beautiful and smart she was.

Today was the day she’s been excited for and dreading at the same time. She’s finally going to get introduced to his teammates. That group of guys are like John’s found family. She’s extremely nervous. There's a reason why he's waited, and she's completely understood why he's been waiting to introduce her to his teammates. They are the most important people in his life, and he wanted to make sure they were both ready for that.

“You’re sure they won’t mind if you bring me?” she asks as John pulls the beanie he had made for her. It has his number on it. “I don’t want to pull you away from your teammates.”

John smiles as soon as the beanie is secured. “I think they will be more in shock that I’m bringing my girlfriend that they didn’t know about to family skate,” he admits. “Some of them are definitely going to swarm and ask a lot of questions. They’ll be more of a pain in our asses.”

A small smile forms on her lips. “Okay,” she sighs. “I’m ready, I guess.”

“You look cute all bundled up,” John comments as he leans down and presses a kiss to her nose. “Just so you’re aware.”

Her cheeks get hot but she isn’t sure if that’s because of his compliment or because of how hot she is standing in the apartment in a puffer jacket and sweater underneath.

She opens the door so he can walk out of the apartment. John waddles down the hallway with his gear bag so they can get to the rink in time for the Devils to practice before family skate starts.

The closer they get to MetLife stadium, the more nervous she gets.

She's terrified to be introduced to a huge group of people that have no idea who she is. John hasn't told anyone about her. She's really a nobody dating an NHL player. All of the wives and girlfriends have things they do, and she feels like she does nothing even though she's attending graduate classes at NYU to get a master's in literature.

Sometimes she has no business having this kind of life.

John parks the car in the back with the rest of the players' and staffs' cars. He finds a spot that's somewhat close to the door.

An excited John looks over at her, and she's pretty sure she has a look of pure fear in her eyes with the way his face falls. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.

"I don't belong here," she blurts out. A weight has been lifted off her shoulders as she finally admits what's really been bothering her. "I don't ... I'm a nobody compared to everyone I'm about to meet. I'm a grad student. I don't have some cool job like everyone else does."

Her boyfriend turns in his seat and grabs her hand. "Listen to me," he tells her. "You are a smart, badass, sometimes smartass, woman that is studying for her master's." She tries to hide the smile that forms on her face at his comment. "You do belong here. You're going to be a New York Times bestseller one day and you're going to have the coolest job that anyone has ever seen. Right now though, you are the most beautiful person to walk into that building. You look good. You should feel good."

She pouts at John trying to hype her up. She swears she could cry. "I love you," she says to him after a minute. "Please don't ever leave my side though until I actually talk to someone."

John smiles at her. "Deal."

They get out of the car. She grabs her ID badge that lets her get into the building and anywhere she really wants to go tonight. John grabs her hand and they walk into MetLife together.

At first, no one notices her. John says hi to some of the staff that works with the Devils. His teammates are probably getting ready for practice.

She follows John as he turns down a hallway. There is music coming from one of the rooms and John peeks his head in. "Oh, good," he says. "No one has started getting ready yet. Families are still in the locker room." John turns his attention to his girlfriend. "You ready?"

With a heavy sigh, she nods. "Ready."

John smiles and pushes the door completely open with his shoulder. Every single head turns in their direction as soon as she's standing at his side again. Conversation dies down as the Devils realize what's happening.

"Dude," Brendan Smith says to break the silence. "Since when?"

"A few months," John admits. "Um, I'd like everyone to meet my girlfriend. Baby, this is everyone."

She gives them a little wave before she takes a small step closer to John before a couple of the wives and girlfriends whisk her away to get to know her.

When she looks back at John, several of his teammates have gathered around him to probably ask him so many questions.

She takes a liking to Erik's wife almost immediately, but also likes talking to Lazar and Toffoli's wives as well. They seem to be pros at this whole thing so she sticks with them until families can join the players on the ice. She watches practice with them and enjoys being able to see what goes on at a Devils practice that has John exhausted when he gets home.

John immediately finds her as soon as she hits the ice in her new skates that he got for her for Christmas. That was the day he asked her to come to family skate with him. She said yes, and right now, she's happy that she did.

Despite being very nervous, she feels like she's made some new friends.

He takes her hands and guides her on the ice. "Feeling any better?" he asks as they glide around, avoiding running into other people.

"A lot better," she admits. "How many questions were you asked when I was kidnapped by the wives and girlfriends?"

John laughs and laces their fingers together. "I never want to get asked again how long we've been dating," he tells her. "They all asked me probably twenty times how long we've been together and why it took me so long to introduce you to them. Jack said we 'hard launched' our relationship, whatever that means."

She smiles and wraps her arms around his torso. He looks so much taller on skates, even when she's on skates too. She still has to look up at him. "It basically means that we dropped our relationship on everyone without any hints," she explains. "You really didn't tell them that you had a girlfriend?"

"No, I did," he says. "Yesterday. Some of them didn't get that text." She laughs as John's back hits the glass. He lifts his hands and cups her face. His fingers are cold against the warm skin on her cheeks. "They all already love you. I might have hyped you up when you were taken away from me."

Her cheeks heat up even more, probably warming John's fingers at the same time. "You didn't," she sighs.

John smiles and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. "I did," he replies. "It's because I love you and you deserved to be hyped up. You were so worried, but they're all excited about the book that you're writing and can't wait to read it."

"John Marino!" she gasps as she playfully hits his gear covered chest. "No one was supposed to know about that yet. I'm still drafting it."

"I'm proud of you, baby," John softly tells her as he leans down. "You should be proud of your work too."

She smiles and wraps her arms back around his torso. "I am."

He tilts her head up and captures her lips in the softest kiss she's ever experience. Both of them smile into the kiss that follows.

They don't get too into it though because somewhere behind them is a shouting Dawson Mercer. "Get it Johnny!" His teammates join in soon after.

John groans and pulls back from the kiss. "They can't ever mind their own business," he sighs.

"They're happy for you," she giggles. "It's cute that you have a whole team that's happy for you."

He smiles and looks down at her. "Thank you for coming, by the way," he says as he pulls her along behind the net.

"That's what she said."

"I cannot stand you."

"You love me."

"I do."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[pucksandpower]

okay but all i can think of is grid kids: where y/n and sebastians’ daughter gets her period while being with the guys and they freak out while she is completely calm😭😭😭

Grid Kids: It’s Just a Little Blood

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids have always been their little sister’s role models and teachers but it turns out that they have some things left to learn themselves

Series Masterlist

“She’s bleeding out!”

Lando’s panicked face fills your screen as the FaceTime call connects.

You immediately sit upright, heart racing. “What? Where? What happened?”

“We found her in the bathroom,” Charles adds, holding up a suspicious-looking red spot on the bathroom rug.

George, on the brink of hyperventilation, rushes in, “We need to call an ambulance! It’s a lot of blood. So much blood.”

Max is basically begging, “Just tell us what to do.”

From the background, you hear your daughter’s exasperated voice, “Guys! It’s just my period! Calm down!”

There’s a collective pause. Mick, with wide eyes, slowly asks, “Period? As in ... the monthly thing?”

Your daughter rolls her eyes but is clearly amused, “Yes. Welcome to female biology.”

You laugh, trying to calm the situation. “Okay, first of all, she’s not bleeding out. It’s totally natural. Didn’t any of you take a basic health class?”

Lance raises an awkward hand, “I might’ve skipped that day ... or week.”

Sebastian is trying not to laugh next to you, “Did any of you ever have a girlfriend? Or a sister?”

Lando sheepishly responds, “It just ... never came up in conversation, I guess?”

Your daughter holds a pad up like it’s a game show prize, “Alright, class is in session. First lesson: how to attach this to underwear.“

The line goes silent for a second before George finally speaks up, “You know, I have a newfound appreciation for what women go through.”

You giggle, “As you should. Time for lesson one of many. Pay attention, boys.”

***

The phone buzzes with an incoming call, Lando picking it up instantly. “Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Can you come pick me up?” Her voice, cracking with frustration as she tries to keep her tears at bay, comes through the phone. “I’m in a lot of pain but the physical education teacher won’t let me sit out despite my cramps being really bad.”

George, overhearing the conversation, frowns. “Seriously? She can’t be that heartless.”

Max grabs the phone, his protective instincts kicking in. “We’re on our way. Just hang tight.”

Within minutes, the grid kids arrive at the school, walking determinedly towards the gym. As they enter, they spot the physical education teacher, a stern woman with a whistle around her neck.

“Can we help you?” She asks, eyeing them suspiciously.

“We’re here to pick up our sister,” Charles says, stepping forward. “We heard she’s not feeling well.”

The teacher scoffs. “She’s been trying to get out of class because of some little cramps. It’s just an excuse for her to be lazy.”

Mick tries to keep his cool, “Cramps can be debilitating. It’s not just an excuse like you claim. It’s a real physical pain.”

Lance jumps in, “You wouldn’t make someone with a sprained ankle run, would you? It’s the same thing. Why make her suffer?”

The teacher is about to argue but Lando interjects before she has a chance, “Look, we get that you have a job to do but she’s genuinely in pain. All we ask is for a little compassion and understanding.”

“And maybe,” George adds, “in the future, a crash course on menstrual health and how not everyone has the same experience might be beneficial.”

The teacher nods, sufficiently cowed. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Thank you,” Max says and the group makes their way to where their sister is curled up in a corner. As she stands up, looking a little pale but relieved to see them, they envelop her in a group hug.

“Feeling okay, kiddo?” George asks with concern, carefully brushing a stray hair from her face.

She offers a weak smile, “Better now that you guys are here.”

Lance winks, “How about we go get some milkshakes? Ice cream cures everything.”

She chuckles, “I could go for that.”

***

The media room is buzzing, cameras being set up and reporters getting ready to fire questions. The grid kids are seated next to each other, patiently listening to their weekly dose of Maxplaining while waiting for the interview to start.

A reporter from a tabloid magazine, aiming for a provocative soundbite, smirks and directs a question at Charles, “Rough race today? Are you on your time of the month or something?”

The room goes silent for a moment, a few gasps and whispers are heard. Charles looks taken aback, his cheeks reddening slightly, but before he can answer, Max steps in, voice firm.

“That’s really inappropriate. Jokes like that are not only disrespectful to the drivers sitting up here but also to female racers and women in general.”

Lando nods, “Our little sister wants to be in Formula 1 one day and she should never have to face comments from people who think that they can demean her because of her gender.”

George throws his hands up, “Come on, it’s 2034 for crying out loud! You should know better than this. We should all do better than this. ”

The reporter attempts to defend his statement, “It was just a joke. No need to get so sensitive.”

Lance counters, “We’re not being sensitive. We just want you to show some basic respect. A natural process shouldn’t be turned into a sexist joke because you have nothing of substance to ask. Women deserve to be treated with dignity.”

The reporter mumbles an apology, clearly caught off guard by the unified response.

Charles finds his voice and glares at the reporter, “Let’s keep the questions related to racing.”

“And,” Mick looks towards a group of FIA officials sitting off to the side, “Someone better make sure to take away his media pass.”

***

After the press conference, back in the drivers’ lounge, your daughter squeezes between the grid kids on the oversized couch and looks up at them with earnest eyes. “Thank you for standing up for girls like me today.”

Max ruffles her hair gently, “We’ve always got your back, kiddo.”

George nods, “We haven’t always been perfect but we’re trying to learn and grow.”

Lando adds, “And we hope, by the time you get here, motorsport will be a much better place for you and all other women aspiring to be drivers.”

Charles bends down to her level, “We want you to race in an environment where you’re only judged by your talent and not anything else.”

“You’ve got the same passion and determination any of us ever had,” Mick chimes in. “Don’t let anyone ever dim that light.”

“We’ll be cheering the loudest when you make it to F1. No one should underestimate you,” Lance adds with a wink.

She beams, wrapping her arms around them in a tight group hug. “Thanks, brothers.”

[zolass]

ᅠᅠᅠTHE GOLD AND THE BLUE

ᅠ···─THE GOLD AND THE BLUE with AETHER

Summary: You were simply a traveler living in Teyvat, one day news spread about two stars falling from the sky. Before the news of a new hero rising in Mondstadt came around, Aether.

This one is simply thought of as a series, where I slowly just try to write about Male Reader with each male character of Genshin Impact, this one is all about Aether. Other's will follow probably (hopefully) soon, none of them have a connection there will be a definitely a story or multiple w Male Reader x All M Genshin Characters, just because it seems fun and we all know we have more house husbands in Genshin (and probably other games) than only one.

But the series will probably have more story errors as I'm mostly just a collector, but I'll try to make some sense w the og game plot and events. There will also be mostly fluff, probably lime and smut and if angst then only hurt comfort, and probably some possessive stuff going on w some characters. MALE READER IS TOP IN THE SERIES. Also this one is short I'll try to make them longer. Obv it will take a while for me to write all of these, hope y'all are patient enough w lil ol' me and stick around for a bit. Hope y'all enjoy and I hope y'all are doing well <3 All credits of the art used as banners go to the original creators!

It has been a rather long day since you traveled from Liyue back to Mondstadt. The backpack that you carried was a heavy baggage that slowed you down and made you sweat buckets underneath the blazing sun.

But well you can't help it, even after many times of seeing the same scenery and going through the long and painful journey, you always found yourself traveling from Mondstadt to Liyue.

With a heavy sigh, you slung the backpack from your back, placing it on the ground, before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. Glancing up at the clear blue sky, you couldn’t help but just rest on a rock and simply look up. You deserve a break from traveling. 

Suddenly a high pitched voice in the distance caught your attention. As you glanced over you could see the slightly familiar flying silhouette of a small being, Paimon. Slowly another figure emerged, long blonde hair neatly tied to a braid and the all too familiar outfit.

Obviously Paimon wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for Aether.

Just as you wanted to look away from the approaching duo, you were stopped by the simple lift of the hand from Aether. You quickly gave a small wave back, before trying to find something to busy yourself with, as it was suddenly so awkward. 

You never met Aether really before, but you knew him. How couldn’t you, when almost everyone in Teyvat knew about him? The glorious hero, looking for his sister.  As you looked through your back, a slight shadow fell onto your legs and a pair of feet were in front of yours.

As you looked up you came face to face with Aether and a smiling Paimon. “Hello there!” she said while waving her small hand at you, which you returned with a small smile.

“Hello,” was your short response.

There was a certain awkward silence between the three of you, as the two stared at you, while your eyes jumped between the two, not trying to basically stare at the blonde. Which was hard– the reason simply being you never quite got a closer look at the other. Just a few glances at the back, when the other visited Mondstadt or Liyue.

“Uhh– I’m Aether, nice to meet you,” the blonde spoke up, while reaching his hand out to you. Surprised you looked at it, before slowly taking it and shaking his hand, “Y/n– call me Y/n.” 

You watched as a sweet smile started to blossom on the others lips, before the voice of Paimon chirped up, “Are you a traveller, Y/n?” she asked, while pointing at your stuffed bag. 

Grabbing both of yours and Aether’s attention, your eyes landed on your bag as well, “Yes, it wasn't hard to guess, was it?” you chuckled. “So Paimon is right! Where do you travel to? Did you see a lot of places in Teyvat? Any food–” suddenly a hand clasped over Paimon’s mouth. 

“I think that’s enough questions for the span of twenty seconds..” Aether mumbled, while Paimon glared at him. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the display in front of you, lifting a hand up to cover your mouth as two pairs of eyes focused on you.

“No problem.. To answer your questions, I only travel from Mondstadt to Liyue and back– which would also answer your second question too,” you sheepishly said. Paimon stared at you with her big eyes, before glancing at her companion, and then back to you.

“Paimon thinks– you should travel with us someday–” Paimon blurted out, only to get her mouth covered again, you looked surprised but it was quickly replaced with a smile, “one day sure.”

There was a small moment of silence, before it was interrupted by another person, “Hey!” a man yelled as he jogged closer, distress and relief on his face as his eyes fell onto Aether, “We need your help,” the man said out of breath. 

Aether threw a glance at you, as you smiled. “Seems like the knight in shining armor has more people to help,” you teased before grabbing onto your bag and swinging it onto your back again, “Wish you the best of luck–” you said while walking a few steps away before turning around, “Hope we see each other again, maybe for a nice dinner on me.”

There was a short moment where Aether seemed surprised at the invitation, but gave you a smile back and a nod, “Stay safe out there,” were the last words from Aether’s side, before he was led away by the frantic man. You watched his back for a while, it felt like all the times before where you were only able to see his back from afar.

With a shake of your head, you turned your back as well as you continued to walk towards Mondstadt.

A few days passed since your encounter with Aether, surprisingly you did see the blonde male a few times in Mondstadt and had a small chat with him, before he was dragged away to help the people in need.

Now you are making your way to the Dawn Winery, as it is the fastest way to Liyue. Yes, you were traveling towards Liyue yet again, maybe with a small stop at the Winery hoping to see a specific redhead, delivering some goods.

With a sigh you couldn’t help but replay the little chats you had with Aether, the other did leave quite an impression on you. The conversation wasn’t as awkward as the first time, as the two of you chatted about travels and a few personal things, which surprised you.

A pair of approaching footsteps brought you out of your thoughts, just as you turned around you spotted the person occupying your mind running towards you. Aether came to a scittering stop before you, his knees bent and his arms holding his body up, while he tried to catch his breath.

You waited for a second watching with slight amusement and curiosity, “Everything alright?” You finally asked, only to get a nod and a heavy sigh. Aether looked at you, after standing back up straight, a small smile formed on his lips. “I asked around where you went, only to hear you want to go back to Liyue again,” he finally explained his sudden appearance. 

A small chuckle left your lips, as you looked at him. “Is that so? You wanted to say goodbye?” You asked genuinely curious about why he came after you. At your words, Aether seemed to slightly falter as he smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to see if you– might want some company– and I thought I would get out of some requests..” Aether said while scratching the back of his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the second, slightly quieter reason. Shaking your head, you slightly patted the smaller male on his shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind some company.”

[directdogman]

Do you have a favourite piece of lore you've ever made. From anything you've ever made. Or even just the thing you find most interesting or that your proud of.

Mainly I just want to know what lore you like the most.

I'll answer this for both of my series bc my DT answer is a lil underwhelming.

For DSaF: I liked the phone guy lore in 3 a lot. By the time DSaF dropped, people were so used to the setting of FNaF that a new game coming out with at least 3-5 new dead people in the story was basically a given. I felt like fangames had kinda missed out on conveying how incomprehensibly tragic the setting was. For every single dead person, there is an undeniable wave of tragedy and most of the dead human employees were just reduced to names in the main series. 3 successfully humanized the company so much that people even pity/love Harry/Steven (two people undeniably responsible for much of the player's misery in previous games.)

Also liked Henry's research in 3. People talk about the logs in 3 a lot, but I had many more ideas I wound up not including. I basically asked myself: if an amoral scientist wound up discovering that souls could possess animatronics, what would he try to figure out using the phenomenon? I think the writing connected with people because it felt kinda plausible in that way. It was 'real' in a sense.

Someone in a research lab would be hacking away at the same concept tomorrow if they could prove ghosts existed in some empirical way, using the scientific method to figure out as much information about the universe as possible from this newly discovered phenomenon. His deductions were tangible, even if they were unhinged + frightening.

For Dialtown: It pains me to say this, but every answer I have to this question is all stuff people haven't seen or stuff that's only been implied but never outright stated. That sadly includes a lot of character stuff. For the world, there's a lot of stuff that happened in the past that actually connects in pretty interesting ways to stuff that seems really random/unimportant. For character stuff, I'd love to explore the datables' families more and that's something I do plan to do more in future releases (be it DLCs, short stories or even a sequel one day!) A lot of stuff actually recontextualizes their existing scenes and shows where certain traits come from. Particularly for Oliver, Karen + Randy.

[dr-spectre]

Guess who turned 7 years old?

SPLATOON 2!!!!! Everyone's favourite Splatoon game!!!! Right? Right guys....? We love Splatoon 2 yeah....? It's the best one right.....? Totally not gonna become the middle child of the series that gets overshadowed by the new fresh Splatoon 3 and the nostalgia of the first game right.....?

Okay, jokes aside about if Splatoon 2 is actually good or not. This was the game that actually got me into Splatoon, I knew about the series since it's announcement but I couldn't play the first game because like the rest of general public, I didn't own a wii u. Still don't but I would love to have one to mod. (And play Splatoon 1 online with fan servers...)

I think Splatoon 2 really did bring a lot of cool stuff to the table and it had a lot of quality of life features and interesting weapon, sub and special concepts.

It gave us the dualies!! THE DUALIES! I LOVE THE DUALIES!

It gave us the brellas! Which.... were kinda bad at launch and still are bad till this day....

BUT! I dont wanna talk about weapons because thats BORING! I wanna talk about one of the best things Splatoon 2 gave us...

OFF THE HOOK! PEARL AND MARINA! These girls are some of the most popular characters in the series and for good reason. They are both funny, likeable, charming, witty and have developed backstories by the time Octo Expansion comes around. Plus their chemistry is top-notch and so damn CUTE! It's almost has if they are somehow more than friends and that kind of connection is canon and people who try to deny it are fucking idiots and will never be in a relationship of their own.....

Also Splatoon 2 gave us a pretty solid hero mode at launch, sure it was basically more Splatoon 1 hero mode but hey, the first hero mode was fun so more of the same is fine by me. Plus you get Marie's classic snark too while you go through levels, she's nice company surprisingly. Way better than some old ass crusty dude...

It also gave us....

totally didn't fuck up my mental health this year and last year and caused me chest pain and discomfort until I had to dig and dig AND DIG for knowledge just to salvage it and make sure my favourite character in the fucking series was given the respect she deserves....

....hypno/octo Callie.... totally didn't fuck up this villain arc for her huh Nintendo? Totally didn't throw away the depth you built up (and was shown in concept art) only to try and hastily fix it 2 years later with an obscure relationship chart no one fucking talks about, not even the timeline explainers...

totally didn't use the wrong terminology to describe her situation and made everything so much worse because you wanted a simple black and white story for the kiddies yeah Nintendo? Despite you making stuff grey in the dlc expansion so the both story modes now clash like oil and water theme wise.

And yet you still treat her like dirt. Still using the wrong poorly localised words. If I still gotta repeat to the sky one more time that callie was under hypnosis and not forceful brainwashing I might have a stroke. You can't even fucking brainwash someone with hypnosis because the limitation of hypnosis is that the person under it must be fully comfortable with the suggestion and the suggestion cannot go agaisnt their morals and ideology. AND GUESS WHAT BRAINWASHING IS! FORCING DIFFERENT IDEOLOGIES INTO SOMEONE'S HEAD! DO YOU GET WHY I HAVE AN ISSUE NOW?!?!?! JUST USE THE WORD HYPNOTISED NINTENDO! THATS ALL YOU GOTTA DO!! ILL BE SOOO HAPPY!!!

YOU TOO INKIPEDIA! I CAUGHT YOU USING THE WORD TOO MULTIPLE TIMES! you better change it... just change brainwashed to hypnotised and I would literally kiss you on the lips or something idk... I love you inkipedia but that's all you gotta change okay? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

ENOUGH OF THAT! I WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE!!!

Do you know what else Splatoon 2 gave us?

OCTO EXPANSION BABY! I know people love to call this overrated now but I really don't care. It's not overrated, it's perfectly rated. It also gave us PLAYABLE OCTOLINGS! Which was a highly requested thing people really really wanted and they gave us what we asked for! Even though they lacked a lot of customisation options.... still do till this day... (Nintendo is it really that hard to come up with new hair? The community has been doing that for years for you man.)

And of course... the last thing I want to talk about...

This is probably my favourite Splatfest to date. It brought in a lot of actual genuine philosophical discussion on what kind of world is best, a world of chaos? Or a world of order? I chose team chaos because when the youtuber/streamer Etika was still around he chose team chaos and I chose that team because of him... rest in peace...

The shifty station too was phenomenonal as you got to hear Fly Octo Fly and Pearl would come in AND YOU GOT TO USE HER PRINCESS CANON!!!! IT WAS SO FUCKING COOL AHHHH!!!

God Pearl is so cool... i can't believe I actually used to dislike her. I wanna beat up teen me so badly for having such bad takes. Marina is hot sure, but, Pearl is just so fucking funny. Man what was wrong with 13 to 17 year old me....

Anyways, I wanted to ramble about Splatoon 2. It's pretty special to me as it was the reason I am here today, so I can't really criticise it as much as others do. Well... aside from one obvious thing but, I've done that many times.

Also, before I go... NINTENDO!!! BRING BACK SHIFTY STATIONS FOR SPLATOON 4!!! DO IT!!! STOP BEING COWARDS!!!!

[denwritesandcries]

Later you'll laugh about this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Later you would say that you only got into this stupid situation because of a cotton candy. PJ and a cotton candy. A goddamn cotton candy you bought for Hazel Callahan.

Word count: 4,3k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, pining, kinda angst, insecure!loser!hazel, toxic situationships, dialogues. lots of dialogues, reader having a beef with pj, idiots in love.

Note: This fic is supposed to have 3 chapters, I didn’t mean it to be so long but I couldn't stop adding new things to the story and now it's a series cause it got out of control. So basically, Hazel is a loser and the reader is a loser for her. That's it. That's the plot.

English is not my first language.

>>

Coming across Hazel's sad face pressed against the precariously clean table you always sat at in the cafeteria, with her puppy eyes seeming to wander forlornly every damn day was becoming really depressing.

“I… I simply don’t understand.” Hazel starts and you let out a tired sigh when you turn your head to follow her gaze and find PJ gesturing to Josie in the lunch line, because of course she would be talking about this. Again. “It’s been weeks since the game and she just acts like nothing happened between us.”

Stella-Rebecca squeezes her shoulder in solidarity and you all exchange a knowing look without her noticing. None of this is really new, but it's getting more and more painful to watch now.

“I thought she liked me too, but lately she’s just acting like…”

You sip your juice audibly, absentmindedly nibbling on the straw in the box: “A bitch?”

Hazel gasps in alarm, “I wasn’t going to say that!”

You notice Sylvie stifle an incredulous laugh next to her as Isabel scolds you with a slap on the shoulder.

“Ouch! 'M sorry, Haze, but we've talked about this before.” You say gently, brushing aside a strand of dark hair that has fallen on her face. “PJ is a bitch. She's a bitch to everyone who's not Josie and especially to you, it's always been like this. You can do better.”

“Like who?” she whines and you huff.

Maybe it might seem a little rude the way you're talking now, but Hazel is your best friend and you've been having this conversation for months, even before the fight club, and it seemed impossible to give her any advice and talk some sense into her head. After the game with the big fight against Huntington and your group of friends grew, things only got worse, because now there are finally more people to hear about her longtime passion.

It turns out that there is no one to listen to you about your long-time passion for her.

It's ridiculous, sitting here next to your best friend, listening to her talk about another girl. The girl she likes.

Still, all you really take into consideration is the way her eyes shine against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the way her hair falls in thick, unruly locks across her face, the way she rolls up her sleeve of the colorful jacket wrapped nervously around her wrist and the dreamy, yearning tone of voice with which she speaks so desperately about what ails her.

Isabel turns her attention to Hazel, looking almost apologetic: “Y/N is right. You have a crush on her since, what, third grade? And she’s being a bitch with you even after you guys made out in front of, like, the entire town.”

Annie leaned on her elbows to join in the conversation, holding a half-bitten apple in her hand indignantly: “She’s literally acting like a straight guy!”

Everyone at the table looked at her at that.

“What? It's true! She’s giving all those confusing signs: sticking her tongue on your throat after barely apologizing for calling your mom a whore, being nice with you for a while and then getting right back to her bitch act without giving you a word about it.” Annie rolled her eyes, “Aren’t gay people supposed to be more mature than that or whatever?”

Hazel shrank even more in place: “Guys, please.”

“Girl, what are you even talking about—”

“You could, you know…” You rest your chin on your palm, “Ask her what you guys are.”

Hazel seemed to suffer in anticipation just imagining this, “I don't want her to move further away and stop being my friend by insinuating anything. I just wanted her to be nicer.”

You shrug, looking away from her tiredly to unwrap your grilled cheese, “Then I’m afraid everything will stay exactly as it is, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, way to show some self-respect, Haze.” Annie added sarcastically.

Hazel dropped her weight back against the table, putting her face in her hands dramatically and you silenced everyone when you saw Josie and PJ coming towards the table, pulling Hazel a little closer and putting your arm around her back to push her away when PJ sat on the other side of her.

You change the subject quickly and you choose to ignore the look Isabel and Brittany exchange as Hazel gratefully leans into your touch.

“Why are you whining like that?” PJ asks, looking disdainfully at the scene. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

You thought you could get through the rest of the day, or at least your lunch, without any more arguments, but that unfortunately doesn't seem to be the case.

“Leave her alone, PJ.”

Hazel sighed, finally sitting up straight to cast a disgusted expression at the tray in front of her.

“I would,” she said, “but now my fries are all cold and limp and the texture gives me shivers.”

Already feeling another nasty comment coming, you decide to interrupt quickly, shrugging: “I’ll trade you for my grilled cheese.”

Hazel immediately brightens: “Really?”

You can't regret your impulsive decision when she looks so cute like this, pushing the package towards her and giving a little smirk in response to PJ's annoyed look.

“Yep,” you highlight the P at the end of the word, “I'm sure.”

Mind you, it's not that you hate the girl exactly. It's just that you hate the way she treats your best friend, which makes you not like being around her most of the time.

And maybe – just maybe – you're a little bitter, because you make a point of giving her a smug look from across the table to the sound of Hazel's excited exclamation of 'you're the best!'.

Your lunch goes without a hitch other than your sad fries and Isabel's eyes burning holes in your head and you're happy to remain quiet and listen to your friends talk for the rest of the time.

Isabel still looks thoughtful when the bell rings and everyone starts to leave for their respective classes. Luckily, the two of you shared the next period, so you could just go ahead and ask her if she had anything to say.

…Which ended up not being necessary, as Isabel pulled you aside with Hazel as soon as she said goodbye to Josie while you looked at each other in confusion as you were suddenly practically dragged through the hallways under Hazel's protests because that was definitely not the way for her to go to class – and your own too because, damn, the cheerleader had a surprisingly strong grip on your arm.

“Isabel, what the hell are you doing?” You ask, perplexed and worried, narrowly avoiding bumping into a random kid carrying a stack of books.

“You know, Hazel, about your problem,” she blatantly ignores you, “if you want PJ to actually choose to be with you and ask you out for real, you could, like, just make her jealous.”

You don’t know why you’re hearing that, “What?”

Isabel shrugged, “It worked for me and Josie, and we know they think kinda alike.”

Hazel stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway, interested: “I’m listening.”

“Oh man.” You groaned.

Your head is hurting just at the concept of such an absurd idea, with the three of you standing in the empty hallway, talking about some crazy plan.

“Josie only made a real move on me when she saw me getting back with Jeff,” Isabel grimace in disgust as she recalled, “She got all tearful and jealous when the group broke up and I started ignoring her. That made her act.”

Hazel seemed to drink in every word of what she said, nodding her head at the reasoning as Isabel explained it as if it were the most logical thing possible.

You leaned your head against a locker behind you, crossing your arms around your body defensively. If Isabel brought you along for the conversation, it's because you're definitely part of what she's planning.

“And you didn’t bring this up when we were all arguing about it because…?” You asked.

“I would have said something sooner, but you two were so busy having a moment that I didn't want to interrupt.”

You gave the finger to the sound of Isabel's laughter and Hazel dismissed what she said with a gesture, even though you noticed how red her face turned.

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s brilliant!” Hazel grabbed your shoulder, shaking it excitedly, “It might actually work! What do you have in mind?"

Isabel shrugged, “You just have to, like, get someone to make out sometimes and show it to her face.”

“Like…?” Hazel asked, not understanding what she was getting at.

But you did.

“Like her,” she pointed at you.

“Oh.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

“Oh, but no freaking way!” you exclaimed, face burning with embarrassment, “Don’t bring me into this. It’s not my problem!”

“But didn’t you want to help her?” Isabel asked, sounding too innocent and you realized that this was what she had been planning from the beginning.

“Yeah, with advice!”

This is stupid. This is really so stupid. You should have been in class for a good few minutes now, paying attention to anything on the board and counting down the remaining hours so you could put it all away and leave, because it was Friday, there were no club meetings to be at and it was your movie night with Hazel. That shouldn't change.

“No, she’s right.” Hazel walked in between you, shaking her head in denial: “It’s not happening. I thought about, like, flirting with someone in front of her, maybe making up a date or something.”

“PJ’s not gonna buy this. You, suddenly showing up with someone new? Very desperately obvious.” Isabel pointed out, “Besides, just flirting with someone probably won’t hold her attention long enough.”

She was right. Isabel was painfully right and you knew it. You two, by the way Hazel's expression changed. By the way she seemed to be seriously considering it.

“But I,” she stammered, “I can’t just ask someone to do that for me and use them like that.”

You took a deep breath, “Thank you!”

Isabel cast one last glance between you, before finally raising her hands in yield, “Well, it was only a suggestion. It's just that you guys already act like a couple anyway so I thought it would make more sense.”

She turns and resumes her walk down the now completely empty hallway – only now do you wonder where the hell the monitors were –, leaving you and Hazel standing there like idiots with distraught expressions, before shouting over her shoulder:

“At least it would be more convincing!”

Your movie night starts late and turns into a sleepover because you all got detention for being so late to your periods and now it's too late to be worth going home anyway, so you stay.

In all the years you've known each other, you've slept at Hazel's house more times than you can count as much as she has at yours, you know this huge place inside out. It's like your own home too. There's nothing weird about curling up in her ridiculously large bed, wearing an old sweatshirt you left there and a pair of sleep shorts she lent you, pulling the covers up so they wrap around you perfectly, and getting as close as possible with her laptop between you, playing some animation on it. Is not strange. It's familiar, it's recurring.

Except it isn't.

There's a tension, a slightly awkward silence that has hung between you since you left school and were alone for the first time since that conversation, that damn conversation, that leaves you nervous and upset with the expectation that something horrible is about to happen and change everything between you. Because Hazel seemed too quiet and thoughtful for someone who wouldn't do anything.

God, you don't like this, this stillness and how it affects you. You don't like how you can't help but notice the way her shoulder presses against yours every time she takes a slow, deep breath, how warm and soft her arm feels where it touches your skin, and how comforting is the weight of her chin resting on your shoulder. You hate it even more to see the soft features of her face illuminated by the blue light of the screen, making you squirm nervously because Hazel is all you can focus on.

And the thing you hate most, without a doubt, is the fact that she must not have noticed any of these things, nor your behavior in general. There's no reason to do it, nothing should be strange to her. Because she doesn't like you that way.

You don't pay attention to a single minute of the movie until it's over and Hazel is moving to turn off her laptop, snapping you out of that trance you've put yourself in without realizing it. She gives you a smile and stretches her arms above her head, tired.

The two of you exchange a few words as you get ready for bed, getting around the elephant in the room, and then you're in bed again, this time without any lights, Hazel staring at the star-decorated ceiling and you with your back turned to her, fidgeting for what feels like the thousandth time and trying your best not to make things even more awkward. Anyway, you can't sleep, even with the tiredness of the day and you know she can't either.

“Hey,” Hazel calls out to you in the darkness, her sleepy voice suddenly startling you. “It was, uhm, really crazy what Isabel suggested, right?”

“Yeah,” You replied hesitantly, turning to her to see what she was getting at: “But you can’t stop thinking about it.”

She hums in agreement to her statement and turns to you as well, keeping her eyes on the sheet.

“It’s just that it seemed too good to pass up the opportunity, you know?” Hazel's hand traces meaningless patterns on the fabric, “As if in those fanfics and books where these things happen, the couple always ends up together and, I don't know, I guess I just felt like I was finally going to give a step and do something about it.”

The way she looks so upset and frustrated breaks your heart and you resist the urge to move even closer and take her hands in yours, seeing Hazel sad feels terribly wrong no matter how many times. You want to help solve her problem. You wish the problem didn't even exist in the first place, but man.

It would be so, so much easier to just be a good friend and support her if you didn't have these stupid feelings bottled up in your chest. Make crazy plans, smile and wave and encourage her to chase the person she wants. It would be enough.

“Things will work out, Haze.” You say it instead, because saying whatever is going on in your head right now might just make everything worse.

“You're right,” she turned around again, gesturing with her hands nervously: “I probably wouldn't even be that good of a girlfriend anyway. I wouldn't know how to plan dates or give gifts, or act all cool and smooth when I'm with her. What if I'm too embarrassing? What if she found me too annoying and ended up breaking up with me?! I think that would be worse. Being romantic seems so hard.”

“I think it should be something unconscious if it’s with someone you really love,” you shrugged, playing with a loose thread on your clothes, “But, no, you’re not like that. I mean, I think you'd be more of the kind of girlfriend who makes thousands of kind gestures to show that she cares without even noticing it, like, writing notes, opening doors, bringing flowers or something. At least I’d like to get flowers, I don’t know.”

Hazel turned her head to you, meeting your gaze hesitantly, with eyes so bright and hopeful that your heart swelled so much it could pop out of your chest at any second.

"You really think so?"

"Yes." You sigh, “Yes, I’m sure.”

The weekend had been relatively peaceful, with you having returned home by the morning after a very bad night of sleep that you spent mainly staring at the ceiling with Hazel sleeping next to you, the rest of the day passed in a blur and now it was Sunday night.

Sunday night and you and your friends were all gathered at the city fair, some event organized purely because there weren't many other ways to entertain yourself living in a small place like that, but there was a lot of junk food and stupid games to spend your money on, so of course everyone always went to it.

Everyone except Hazel, apparently, since she's late and you and your friends are all gathered together, waiting for her. Oh, and there's a cotton candy almost melting in your hand from where you're leaning against Brittany's fancy car.

Later you would say that you only got into this stupid situation because of a cotton candy; PJ and a cotton candy. A goddamn cotton candy you bought for Hazel Callahan.

“Hi, lads!” And there it is the source of your teenage angst.

One look and you know there's something wrong with Hazel. You haven't seen her since that night, but she seems a little distraught, panting and with her hands resting on her knees from running up to you.

“Finally!” Sylvie exclaims, fixing the beanie over her head, “The fair started already, I want to go before they take all the good prizes from the game stalls.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you guys here,” she waves awkwardly and the group dismisses without further comment, you all heading towards the colorful event.

You walk beside her, noticing how nervous and distracted she looks, eyes focused on the floor and hands twirling the rings between her fingers. She doesn't seem to have noticed your presence.

“You're late.” You say, without the expected bite because you're honestly more worried than angry right now.

She squeaks in fright, making some of your friends look over the shoulders to check on you. She recovers quickly, however:

“No, I'm Haze.”

You let out a nasal laugh at the completely adorable, stupid, and alarmed expression on her face. Of course she would answer something like that.

“Here,” you hold out the candy toward her, trying your best to appear indifferent. “I got you one before the line got too long.”

Her jaw dropped a little before breaking out into a shiny smile: “Oh, you've got my favorite!”

You shrug, “Just don’t let anyone throw it away this time.”

“I won’t.” Hazel swears.

She seems to be strangely close to you as you walk together, shoulders side by side, your hand would probably brush hers if it weren't properly hidden in your pockets and Hazel still has that nervous look of someone who has something to say.

You turn your head to her when your friends decide to stop on a stand, frowning and placing a hand on her arm gently.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” You ask and she gulps.

“Yes, uhm,” she clears her throat, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, “It’s just that I really wanted to ask you a favor.”

For a moment you don't even think twice about it, leaning back on her playfully.

"A favor? You know I don't do anything for free Haze,” you smirk, patting her on the shoulder, “Win me a stuffed animal or a goldfish and maybe I'll consider it.”

She doesn't smile and respond wittily like you expect, instead she looks even more shy, shrugging her shoulders as if she wants to disappear and folding her hands comically with the cotton candy behind her back.

“Look, I know we’ve already talked about this, but please.”

Oh, so it's about that then. Seriously.

“Haze,” you sigh.

“Please,” she repeats, “I just need you to—”

And that's when things derail out of your control.

“Guys,” Josie waves, pointing to the others, “let's go before Sylvie picks a fight with the stand dude.”

You hadn't even realized how long you spent standing around talking, but now PJ is staring at you, looking somehow uncomfortable.

“Are you done flirting there? We have more things to do, you know.” She points indifferently.

Hazel looks pleased for a moment, a determined look covering her face, which makes you suddenly nervous. A determined Hazel is an impulsive Hazel.

You clear your throat, “We weren’t.”

PJ rolls her eyes at your response and then she approaches, with Josie watching the exchange hesitantly before taking a step back and resigning herself to returning to her girlfriend, lucky girl.

PJ is too close, in a way that makes that bitter, unfair feeling come back to you, she reaches out to grab Hazel's cotton candy, just like she did at the last fair you all went to.

Except this time Hazel stops her from doing it.

“Hey, don’t.” She takes the candy out of her reach easily, looking upset, “Y/N gave it to me.”

"So what?" PJ protests angrily, “You act like she's your girlfriend or something.”

Oh god.

Hazel looks deep into PJ's eyes for a moment and whatever she was looking for in her expression, she seems to find exactly what she wanted.

“That—”

Oh my fucking god, this was exactly the opportunity Hazel had been waiting for. The opportunity to make an impulsive decision that may or not ruin your friendship.

“—Is because she is.”

You look at her in alarm, grabbing her free hand and squeezing in warning, which perhaps wasn't a smart choice of action for what you wanted to avoid.

“What?” PJ flicks her gaze between you and your hands repeatedly, as if she didn’t expect such a turn of events, “What?”

Hazel lifts her chin and pulls you closer, as if challenging her indignation, but you see the exact moment her breath hitches as you open your mouth to question all of this, her eyes meet yours, nervous and pleading, begging you to just play along.

And then, because that girl in front of you is annoying as fuck, because your best friend is convincing you with her sad puppy eyes, and because you spent 8 dollars on some stupid cotton candy, you stay quiet and let PJ think whatever she wants.

“Fine,” she huffs and turns around, “Whatever.”

You feel Hazel trembling slightly against your grip and she sighs audibly in relief when PJ finally leaves.

“Dude,” her shoulders slump tensely, “Thank yo—”

“Dude?” You repeat in disbelief, dragging her behind the nearest empty corner, “What the fuck were you thinking about?”

Hazel flinches at the sound of your screams, letting go of your hand instinctively, the false confidence from seconds ago immediately disappearing.

“I panicked!” she exclaims.

You inhale deeply, “Haze, I told you not to get me involved in this.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” she looks away, completely embarrassed and you notice that she inevitably dropped the candy along the way as she reaches her hands out to grab both of yours. They're cold and sweaty against your skin.

You know she didn't mean any wrong and you can't stay mad at her anyway.

“Why didn’t you talk to me again before making a scene like that?” You ask, as softly as you can.

"I was trying! That's what I was going to ask you. I—” She lets out, “Ineedyoutobemygirlfriendforawhileplease!”

It came out too quickly and all as if it was a single word, but you're sure you didn't get it wrong.

Hazel keeps talking to stop you from protesting – which is exactly what you were about to do –, letting go of your hands and gesturing:

“I had even prepared a speech to convince you that it was actually a good idea, seriously! It would only be for a while, just a little. But I was desperate because earlier Stella-Rebecca told me that Josie told Isabel that PJ is interested in that short cheerleader who just joined the club and I wanted to cry because I'm losing my chance and wha—”

“Haze, sweetheart,” you interrupt, grabbing her shoulders to stop her, “Slow down, okay?”

She mumbles another silent apology, squeezing the rings between her fingers and you don't know what to do. There's a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach from when Hazel pulled you close earlier, almost protectively, when she stated that yes, you two were a thing, and for a moment you think about being able to have moments like that with her every day, in her acting like this around your friends and you showering each other with affection all the time and a yearning in the back of your mind to show her that you could actually be a good partner for her.

“It was… it was pretty ridiculous, my speech,” she begins again, “I was going to say something like 'come on, don't you want to think about this a few years from now and be able to laugh and brag about how you were the one who helped put together your friend with her crush like that?'” Hazel chuckles awkwardly, “But I think it sounds too arrogant.”

Hazel tugs at the sleeves of her sweater anxiously when you don't answer, it's been getting a little cold lately and she's wearing the sweater you gave her for her birthday last year. You feel yourself giving faster than you could think.

“You know I wouldn’t ask that to hurt you, right?” she questions hesitantly and you instantly know it's true. “I just wanted to show that I’m worth it.”

You sigh, defeated, “You’re worth it, Haze.”

Hazel looks at you hopefully as you take her hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling her into the crowd.

"Let's do this." You agree.

Screw it. Maybe you'll laugh about this later.

[avianconcept]

Agency, value systems, and growth: the fate of the Perfect Court tattoos.

Been thinking about the Perfect Court tattoos today, and I’ve finally decided what I personally hope happens to Jean’s. I know there's a lot of discussion about a cover up like Kevin’s, suggestions like a flower, a sun, a fleur-de-lis; and I see that, but I raise you: he gets it completely removed. 

I think it has something to do with what the tattoos mean to each character. More specifically, how each character got them, and what that means to them. Most of this comes from a quote I found on my last re-read of TKM: 

The first time someone asked about Riko’s and Kevin’s tattoos, Riko hadn’t beat around the bush. He was the best striker in the game, he said, and he wanted everyone to know it. The story changed a little when Jean made his first public appearance with a “3” on his face. Riko was supposedly handpicking the future US National Team. He called it the ‘perfect Court’, and even though it was unofficial and unbelievably arrogant, his talent and upbringing gave some credibility to the idea. ‘

According to Neil in the first book, Riko and Kevin had been sharpie-ing on their numbers since they were children. This quote adds some more crucial context to that. It establishes that Riko and Kevin’s 1 and 2 came before the perfect court, and that the perfect court was what Riko decided their 1 and 2 (and newly minted 3) meant. This bit is what changed it for me, I think. 

Riko and Kevin are both referred to as the sons of exy. Both are heirs to the game, Riko through his uncle and Kevin through his mother. They do it to signal their place in the world of exy– heirs, future best in the game, destined for greatness. And then Jean comes along, and Riko changes the narrative. He comes up with the perfect court, and tells the world. The perfect court are his chosen players (read: his property). It furthers his control and possession of Kevin, who is allowed to be excellent, just not better than Riko. Kevin can be good, he just has to be good Riko’s way, subscribe to RIko’s model of success. 

Riko dies with his tattoo on his face. He dies clinging onto the idea of the perfect court, that he is the best, and that the only way to be the best is through pain and abuse. There is no real change for Riko in the series, so it fits that the way he’s marked himself (read: the way he defines himself) doesn’t change either. 

Kevin gets his covered up with the infamous chess piece. For Kevin, the challenge is reclaiming the sport that is also his birthright. He is physically free of Riko and Tetsuji, but mentally, he isn’t. Even with states between them and a new team, he is still understandably afraid of standing up to Riko. It goes against the status quo that has been beaten into him, and it takes him a while to be able to fully leave them and their limits behind. What holds Kevin back is that his greatness has always been defined. It has been defined by Riko, upheld by Tetsuji. He can be second best, a Raven, a prince to Riko’s King. Kevin changes his tattoo right before the final game– in order to beat Riko, he has to first reject Riko’s hierarchy, the limiting belief that was forced onto him that Riko was best, Riko was king. To me, its extremely fitting that Kevin’s evolution involved him putting his own mark on his talent. Instead of challenging Riko for ‘King’, or for that 1, he invents his own symbol. For Kevin, it's a reclamation of a game that was always partially his– just on his terms now. 

Neil’s tattoo gets burnt off by his father’s henchmen. This also fits well in my mind, because in my opinion, Neil’s number one challenge wasn’t actually Riko. Riko was Neil’s adversary, but Neil’s true terror was his father. The tattoos and their removal/evolution appear to be symbolic of the character’s growth, so it makes sense that Neil’s wasn’t on his face for long, and was taken off by (basically) his father. Each of the perfect court members had something keeping them trapped, things that wouldn’t let them grow into who they were supposed to be. Riko’s was the wound of his fathers rejection, and the toxicity created and maintained by Tetsuji. Kevin’s was Riko, and by extension Tetsuji. Neil’s is his father. Unlike Kevin, Neil’s not trying to be the best exy player in the sport. The sport makes him feel less like no one and nothing, and his continued playing is an expression of his will to live and his desire for personhood and a future. Neil wants better than what he has at the beginning of TFC, and the thing keeping him from that isn’t Riko. Sure, Riko is connected to the Moriyamas, and Ichirou owns his contract now, and Neil fights with Riko a lot. But to me, the thing that caused him real terror and stripped him of his personhood and autonomy was Nathan. Riko branded him with the 4, and Nathan’s people took it off, as if to say, “No, Riko isn’t who you have to reckon with, it’s me.” Neil’s internal fight was with being the butcher’s son, not with being number four. 

Jean’s situation is best described by a line in the EC– Jean never asked for this. 

In his own words, he loved exy, and was excited for what he thought was an opportunity to improve, but it doesn’t seem like he was ever vying for greatness. Then his father sold him, he was given the 3, and he was made perfect court. 

Much like Neil, didn’t have a say in his involvement. Unlike Neil, Jean adopts the mentality and hierarchy of the perfect court as his truth. Riko’s estimation of his value becomes his own. 

For Jean, the 3 has a lot to do with pain and self worth. In TSC, the only time Jean speaks positively about himself is when he calls himself perfect court, or when he talks about himself as a backliner. He has been conditioned that the only place he has worth is on the court. Nothing is important about him, just about what he is, the position he occupies. Where his personhood and bodily autonomy is denied over and over, his talent cannot be denied on the court. He is allowed to matter on the court, and nowhere else. In a sense, that 3 becomes the only thing about him that could be his. 

The other thing about the 3 is that he didn’t ask for it, but he has bled for it. So much of his relationship with the Ravens is defined by his rank.  Even though the Ravens do not like Jean as a person, they want to be his partner, to have that 4. The reason someone protects Jean from repeated sexual assault is that 3, and how it could lead to a 4. This is why Zane strikes a deal with him, why Grayson goes all the way to the Gold Court to hurt him. It is what the sexual assault from the backliners is blamed on. The 3 was given to Jean as a mark of something he didn't ask to be a part of, and then he was forced to fight tooth and nail to keep it.  It became the defining part of his identity because he wasn’t allowed to have anything else. He wasn’t even allowed to have his name. 

In my opinion, I think that the ultimate expression of Jean’s growth would be to take the tattoo off. He doesn’t have to subscribe to that value system. Covering it would feel like half assing it. He can change it, but he has to keep a tattoo of some sort, because Riko put one there. 

Note that I don’t think of the cover up the same way for Kevin. For Kevin, exy was likely always going to be important to him, with Kayleigh as his mother. He is inheriting it, same way Riko is, and this inheritance is symbolized by that 1 and 2. Kevin wanted to be the best, and so the ultimate expression of his healing is him becoming the best his way. Jean has his tattoo because he is seen as an object, a talent investment belonging to the Moriyamas. What is a limit for Kevin is a brand for Jean. 

For Jean, I think true freedom wouldn’t be freedom to be the best, it would be not having to be the best. It would be not having exy be the most important thing in his life. To not need to defend something he didn’t want. I hope he becomes so sure of his worth in the world, and so sure of his own autonomy that he doesn’t need the 3 to tell him he’s worth something. I hope he realizes that he is his own before he is anyone else's, and doesn’t need to carry around a value that someone else gave him.  

In TSC, the legacy, abuse, and dehumanization of the Nest is killing Ravens as soon as the Nest is taken away. Without the strict environment and the imposed value systems the Nest and team gave them, the Ravens crumple. They seem to feel they can't go back (I suspect that whether ‘back’ means back to their old lives or back to the Nest is different for every Raven), and that death is their better option. Ravens don’t seem to be meant to survive outside the Nest. It is designed to be all consuming. Jean doesn’t know who he is if he isn’t a Raven, if he isn’t perfect court, if he isn’t ‘3’ anymore. To live again, he has to leave the perfect court and its poison behind. He has to learn himself again, to rebuild and repair and create out of nothing. 

Neil says it about Grayson, that he could have chosen to walk away from Riko’s poisoned legacy, but it applies to all Ravens. To survive, to live a life worth living, they have to chose to fight their way out of that kind of thinking. Taking the tattoo off feels like him choosing to leave the Nest behind. Jean taking it off represents him shedding that entire ideology. No three, no expectation, just him and whoever he wants to be. 

In short, the toxicity that the perfect court represented killed Riko with its symbol still on his face. 

The Moriyama’s never really owned Neil, and they weren’t who he had to overcome. The tattoo was never going to be around long. 

Kevin was held back from his birthright. His potential was conditional, and there was a leash on him. He needed to reclaim the game that would always be his, mark himself in his own image. 

Jean needs to see himself as a person beyond his place on the court. He needs to walk away from the perfect court ideology and reclaim himself, with no one’s mark on him. 

[fireboltcrystal]

The Mishandling of Varric Tethras

How Dragon Age: The Veilguard utilized a fan favorite, only for the worst....

Just a little bit more salt. I wasn’t initially going to post anything else, but I kept thinking about all the things that have frustrated me about vg. & the one that just keeps driving me insane, is how Bioware treated and used Varric in The Veilguard. I just wanted to expand/rant a little more about my disappointment and disgust. Both in what was done to Varric and how it shows off the cracks in vg’s understanding (lack) of characterization.

WARING, SALT, BASIC CRITIQUE, WITH BIOWARE/VG BASHING + IT’S LONGER THAN I INTENDED, SORRY)

~

For consideration; first I admit fully I did not play The Veilguard, I watched a friend who is also a fan, play the game from beginning to end, alongside watching others live-stream the game. Re-watching clips and reading story summaries for clarification.

I’m not a lore expert by any means, I will occasionally investigate other parts of the series for fun. But I mostly know about the series from playing the games. Extend universe is fun but should not be necessary. Plus, I should not have to pay potentially $100+ for a game and its extended universe of comics and novels, just to talk about my opinion on disappointing story aspects.

Second, I’m not a professional or semi-professional writer. So, pardon for any mistakes.

Third, Varric Tethras is my favorite character of the Dragon Age series. My bias will be on full display.

Does this all mater, no but I want to be honest just in case other fans find this and think I am trying to ‘stir the pot’ and make people who were somehow able to enjoy vg sad.

Truthfully, I do not care if anyone reads this. I just needed to compartmentalize my feelings beyond trying to only ignore and move on. Also, if you do not like Varric, fine but please don’t waste your time commenting on how you hate him. It is annoying and pointless. I do not care, have a nice day, anyways.

Character Background:

(feel free to skip to the next part, if you don’t want a refresher)

From the song 'Companions',

Varric charms with clever words

Vender of exotic goods

Writer of salacious books

A rogue, a dwarf with ragged looks

Varric Tethras is the rouge, dwarven companion of da2 and dai. Second son and first of his family to be born on the surface. Scion of House Tethras, which once held prominence in the underground kingdom of Orzammar. Which now resides in the Free Marches, city state of Kirkwall after scandal had the family banished. Though Varric does not come off as really interested in the traditions of his family’s homeland or following heavily in the faith of ‘The Stone’.

He is ironically a deeply ‘human’ character; as cunning as he is compassionate. A merchant prince with a decent ‘spy network’ (though has a difficult time not being worried about his agents). Known for wielding his signature crossbow, named Bianca; he clashes with his elder brother Bartrand and the Dwarven Merchants guild and holds a substantial tab at the “The Hanged Man” tavern. He also to extent is Andrastian, though not as pious that is traditionally acceptable. He frames it more so as enjoying an ‘great story’. But he does speak on the life of prophet, Andraste with far more understanding than even some of the most faithful characters can. Could it just be storytellers’ intuition or maybe more…

Segway into the fact that he is also a serial novelist, who writes everything from crime dramas, epics, to romances novels. He is a deeply ‘romantic’ person, loyal to friends and those he loves, at a times to a fault. Varric is a self-described liar but it never feels deeply malicious. Only as way of obfuscating when dealing with painful memories, hiding info to protect his friends from and to optimally fuck with the Chantry. His friendship with Hawke, is so close to point that he was willing to lie to the Chantry guard, and put his life and freedom on the line to protect them.

Another major example would be in his tempestuous relationship, with Bianca Davri; a dwarven engineer of tremendous skill. Though we do not get all the details as it is part of the Bianca, the crossbows naming, ‘the one story he will never tell’.

What we do get is a very complicated affair. Were the two honestly should and in some parts have already moved on from each other. It is mature, messy, and shows a flaw in his character; that though he lives in the present, he can be weighed down by his past mistakes.

-

Game-wise, in da2 he is the unreliable narrator for the story of Hawke and a rouge companion. As his background as a storyteller, he spins a yarn to Seeker Casandra Pentaghast, about the Champion of Kirkwall. Along with has a part in the main quest that ties into his relationship and ultimate the fate of his brother, Bartand. He can potentially become either a best friend or a rival to Hawke.

In dai he is again a rouge companion, initially ‘arrested’ by the Chantry, he joins the Inquisition to help save Thedas. He has a substantial role in the story; he acts as a re-introduction to Hawke (and can affected by their potential fate later in the story) and the main antagonist, Corypheus (featured in da2 dlc). Along with he is a first-hand witness to the dangers and damage red lyrium can cause. This also includes a connecting quest to destroy lyruim deposits, to which we can even finally meet the mysterious Bianca herself. He can become another friend with high approval or he can become disillusioned with the Inquisitor if low.

In Trespasser/post-game, we learn that he has been chosen to become the Viscount of Kirkwall and though the job drives him nuts; he shows a genuine zeal for the position. In the both the power he utilizes to make genuine changes for the city that he loves and to abuse it, as an excuse to give his friends ‘free shit’. Including bestowing the Inquisitor a title, estate, and key to the city (or mechanism to control the giant-ass chains lol).

~

Quick moment of positivity before vg proper, I will say I think Varric’s new design works for an older interpretation of the marksman. He has his fundamental details, the leather coat, ring necklace, obvious flash of chest hair and of course crossbow Bianca. But the new additions like the Inquisition belt buckle and the three, crossed facial scars are nice touches to his look. Minor criticism, a little confused at hair color change, but hair can turn darker as one ages, and the gray does look great on him. A little less okay with is the beard, in part since Varric known to be indifferent to the traditions of Orzammar, like having a longer beard. Prior games his face is shaven or with very faint scruff. But I can also see it as him leaving it to the way side during the hunt for Solas. Also, he is missing his three earrings, Bioware what did you do with the man’s jewelry!

VG Prologue:

Varric’s introduction in the game starts at the beginning of new protagonists Rook. In a nameless bar in Minathous. Rook can choose to react with wordplay or violence. After which Varric, chilling out in corner (which he should, let that old dwarven man rest!) comments on how Rook handled themselves in the standoff/scuffle and how they are his second in command (woof sheesh, tough break Harding). Without any time to spare they are off to find their contact.

Fist off: The bond that Rook and Varric have; is that there's kinda isn't. Normally a player is introduced to character and we naturally grow interest with them, through game play and conversation.

But in vg there is no built up, it’s all a preset relationship. “I know your can do this, you’re the best, Kid,” blah blah. Other than a few half-baked dialogue choices that pretty amount to nothing. There is no moment to talk with him, ask him questions beyond getting the main story into motion (all go, go, go find this person, here, that, there & etc.).

Something separate I bring up, not only to Varric and Rooks ‘relationship’. But an issue that I could have actually help (a little bit) of vg’s starting issues.

Why the fuck are the devs. so terrified of the original Origins.

Because this is the game that probably needed those kinds of intros back, more than ever. Be it for players returning (or first introductions) to the world of Thedas. & no, the half-baked, faction summaries are not enough when most of them barely factor into how you build and detail out your background. Some factions like the Shadow Dragons get just a few scraps to role-play or as everyone I have seen and spoken to has said that the Lord of Fortunes might as well have been cut completely, there is so little.

It feels so hollow to have hardly any dialogue choices to help flesh out Rook as a different character. Instead, they are a carbon copy personality dumpster fire, bland in a way a single-cell hero could be. Quippy and Inhuman.

Now back to Varric; how in the world do they know each other, why did they join in with the Inquisition or what remained of it, how did Varric end up deciding on a chess themed nickname, all these question & more could have been answered with a character Origin! *hooray* (Wow, look at that!)

In this have Varric play the role of recruiter like Duncan. He will meet the players, intro into combat, have quick convos on what the hell is going on, speak to the people and to show off a part of the world.

But in this case to create the foundational bond between the new player character and now mentor, Varric. So that if there are any dramas moments, the player will actually feel, if or when an npc is in peril…

But instead, the dev. team opted to just simply have Varric already know Rook, no build up required. Just a pre-established association with no real input from the player. Which creates a disconnect, new players are not going to automatically know who the hell Varric is. Most will just roll with it, so to finally get to the game proper, but it will not add up down the line…

For returning players, the writers did something kind of nasty on reflection; they used our nostalgia to do the heavy lifting of character development. We do not get to know Varric as a new person, just as extended cameo (which happens to other characters in vg). That one we are only able to understand because of playing the previous games, who though had their own development woes, still had developers with their priorities straight when creating them, its world, and its characters.

So if you are not a fan or feel neutral about Varric. Rook has a casual-esq working relationship with him. Clean, bland, sanitized (like the rest of the game).

But if you are a fan of him, it ends up feeling like an old friend you have lost contact with and now you have become different person (literally) but with the nostalgia strangling you. Varric feels slightly the same, but older, exhausted and one who’s writers should have let gently retire years ago…

It feels sad and lackluster in comparison to how full and interesting his prior introductions were.

Da2 had two Varric intros; first with his arrest and interrogation, he becomes the narrator of the game, though under distress. It creates mystery, why is this guy being dragged around though a dungeon, what has he done, does he know something, or maybe someone…

But in-game proper, after Hawke’s failed meeting with Bartrand. Varric stops a pickpocket from running off with Hawke’s stolen coin purse, he lands a bolt into the thief, taking back the money, punching them out for the trouble and returning the coins with a flourish. They talk about his brother and their plans to venture into the Deep Roads for fame, glory but money for profit.

You get a little taste of both points, Varric brought low and also at the top of his game.

In dai slightly similar but without the framing device, Varric is fighting alongside Solas (oh we will get to you). & after sealing the tear, Varric introduces himself, there is even a dialogue choice where he compares himself to us as we are both technically prisoners to the Chantry, though his arrest by Cassandra is kind of null after the explosion. It helps build a link between him and the prisoner, later Inquisitor. For new players, you get to see peak Varric charm. But also perfect for old players ready to bond with him again, after so long and to a forge a connection with a brand-new protag.

With this we not only see that Varric still has his wicked charm, but that others also react to it, Solas chuckles (heh) with a snide remark, when we say we are pleased to meet him and Cassandra’s frustration at his arrogant charisma is so endearing, for both characters. (Cassandra and Varric, have genuinely some of the best character interactions of the entire series, I will fight anyone on that).

~

Moving ahead since more of the dialogue after meeting Harding and Neve, is mainly, taking about state of Minrathous and needing to stop Solas. We reach the ritual site in the Arlathan forest... Before confronting the Dreadwolf, can either choose to support or convince against Varric talking Solas down. Regardless of choice, he still goes on head.

Varric is a man whose friends have become his family. He feels that he must try at the very least talk with Solas. Though it does go against his reactions to Solas being an agent of Fen'Harel; back in Trespasser (but I think the team kind of forgot most of the character motivations they established…).

Regardless Varric confronts Solas while the team try to stop the ritual and hold off the demons. Though I hate the result, I kind of liked the scene at first, Varric’s cheeky grin calling Solas, ‘Chuckles’ was a great touch. Especially since the two did have slight back and forth friendship in dai.

& the reaction Solas has when he sees Varric is excellent, first annoyance at who would dare distract him, then shock with a little bit of sadness when it sees who it is, but then returns into haughty determination.

But I think this is indicative how better the characters of the prior games and the weight of established relationships are from this scene. Like if Veilguard is your first game in the series, this entire scene means practically nothing other than, a super intense moment between ex-friends (where the world is at stake).

But gravitas of these two characters, the performances of their actors and the tiny shred of decent writing. Probably tricks a lot of newcomers into thinking this will be a far deeper story than it actually is…

So, after a back-and-forth, Solas will not see reason and Varric aims Bianca and Solas destroys the crossbow (I’m still devastated at the loss of such an iconic weapon). During which the ritual is disrupted, Varric attempts to stop it further by attempting to grab the ritual dagger from Solas’s, in turn Solas stabs Varric. He falls, and we are uncertain of his fate. Ancient elves Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan escape the fade and Rook loses consciousness.

The Rest of the Game:

After the ritual Rook awakens in the Lighthouse, to see a bandaged-up Varric. He looks awful and is noticeably in pain. But something is bizarre, something doesn’t seem right, his tone is off, it’s unnatural.

Other companions, seem to speak or react to him. I kept thinking why doesn't any look at him. No scenes of characters visiting him, to see how he's feeling. Nothing.

Let me tell you before I learned the truth, I was so fucking relieved to see he was alive. After all the dodgy trailers, on which Bianca being destroyed. I was just so happy to see him alive, that I didn’t see the signs. I thought maybe we would check in on him over time and watch him heal. Maybe there would be point before the end where we see him hang up his leather duster and return to Kirkwall as Viscount accepting that his adventuring days are at end. & in turn pass on the mantle of leadership to this current party. For Rook to step out and up as the new protagonist… But we will get to the full truth later.

So from now till the end Varric has two functions in vg: narrator again, but without the same wit or gravitas of da2.

& sort of back seat hype man, he is mainly resting in a dark corner of the new base, the Lighthouse. His conversations are essentially recaps of main quests, occasional references to the prior games, what the dev. team must have thought were oh so clever hints to Varric’s death (as clever as a cinder block) and then pseudo-HR training about how “Rook is the leader, and you are a part of team, and you got to work together,” yada yada…

Ultimately meaningless moments, awkward and stilled, hamstrung by vg’s blunt force repetitive dialogue.

Now to his final part in this story, close to end game Rook is trapped in a fade prison by Solas (who fell for the dumbest trick, who also can be tricked in return, wtf) they are confronted by companion(s) that were killed during a prior quest.

And here is the big revel, that Varric had died after being stabbed by Solas at the beginning of the game.

The real Varric died at the ritual site…

So, anytime that Rook spoke to him, it was not actually Varric the man, the dwarf, the living person.

Honestly, I do not know entirely what was talking to Rook.

At first, I thought he was illusion created by Solas to fuck with Rook. Maybe a shade made from a spirit (like dai where a spirit &/or Divine Justinia helps the Inquisitor). Or more likely a figment created by Rook from their repressed grief after Varric was murdered. (Honestly this is all embarrassing, like who ever wrote this, along with anyone else who let it go to print should be ashamed of themselves and then fire their therapist...)

They have an awkward come to Jesus’ moment about accepting grief (um, ok) and a stilted, rushed good bye.

(Oh and there is one moment right before the end credits where Varric appears in the clouds like he’s Mufasa or something idk; just a final slap in face before game ushers you out the door.)

~

Final Feelings and Frustrations:

So most of his inclusion of the game was not even but a hallucination, a mere idealistic interpretation of him, always supportive, always accepting, and empty.

A fandoms interpretation, a wasteful dev. teams idea.

Used as ‘character development’ for a mediocre protagonist.

Rook is as heroic as wet rag and as interesting as a rubber dumbbell.

What a tragic waste of one of the series most iconic characters…

-

Varric being killed off and used a lesson in accepting grief, was one of the most meaningless acts of literal character assassination and emotional manipulation I have ever seen a team of writers pull in some fucking time.

I would not be surprised if that was Bioware's excuse for not wanting to write anything more complicated or interesting. That they only did it for a cheap cameo and had Varric be a sacrificial lamb to create ‘tension’ between Rook and Solas.

Which can I just say for a dev. team as notoriously ‘chronically online’, the fact that they couldn’t see how a loud subset of the fandom, who are willing to forgive literally any if not all of Solas’s actions, including being involved in the death Varric, another fan favorite, is cosmically laughable.

Solas’s could turn an entire box of puppies to stone and he would be forgiven at large; esp. if it was framed as him doing it for the sake of the Elvhenan. Like please be real Bioware, you made a sympathetic villain. Fucking own up to it, you guys could not have been this delusional (though your interviews do say otherwise).

It is sooo bizarre, like does this current team even like these characters (the series even), supposedly in the development in the prior games, Varric was constantly being talked about like his time was up (like why, you made him a charming fella, what are players supposed to do, not want to friends with the guy!). They even had very early ideas for a dlc where you could romance him (I will morn this loss forever), but that he would potentially die at the end… (fml)

Hell, even Solas in this game; that was once titled as ‘Dreadwolf’. has this constant feeling from the writing that the team both adores him but also fucking hates him. Like, “Please keep talking bald elf man you have so many fans willing to pay full retail price; but also shut the hell up and begone to the shadow dimension!”

I mean, I am not a huge fan of Solas personally, but I am genuinely surprised at how many of his actual fans could be okay with Bioware’s meager crumbs. (idk toxic positivity, maybe sunk cost fallacy)

Like at one point this guy was THE main antagonist and beyond! Elven spies, manipulating nations, sowing discord to the create the perfect environment to tear down the Veil! But nope, just nothing really. Stuck in the Fade, being a big sad boy.

Strikingly bland here, esp. in comparison to the real intensity brought forth at the end of Trespasser.

[Bonus: After her threat in dai, I would not be surprised if Bianca found a way of going into the fade just so she could beat the ever-loving shit out of Solas (and all Inquisitors) for getting Varric killed.]

~

An Idea for a Thematic Polarity:

Of clinging to the nostalgic past, how to accept a conflicted present & to move forward into an uncertain future.

Solas is a person fixated on the ideal of a post-Elvenuris past. A past that never actually came to be and desires to bring it to fruition, even if means potentially destroying world. He even dissociates from the people of the ‘Dragon Age’ because, he cannot visualize them a fully fledge people. This can change, but he still goes for it. He knows there will untold death and destruction, but refuses to let go of the world before. In a better written story, he could’ve still becoming one with the Veil. After further being confronted by the reality that you cannot return the past, not like it once was. But let go for the sake of protecting those who live here and now, to go on, learn the past and make a better world for everyone.

Varric also clings to the past; even his place as a storyteller is him dramatizing, sensationalizing events, real or otherwise. He glosses over painful memories, adjusts for the audience (but mostly himself). But he is also a man who has not abandoned the present or even the future. He lives still gathering info. for his next bestseller. He is deeply conserved for the living; friends, citizens of Kirkwall and beyond. And if there is nothing to be done, we might as well take a break for now and play a round of Wicked Grace.

The team could have done things much different in the finale to Varric. They could have Varric be (actually) injured during the ritual. After which he decides to retire, he is not getting any younger and returns to Kirkwall as Viscount. Passing the torch to the next generation of heroes and storytellers.

He has sort of given up on Solas, not his friend, (he will always care about his friends) but in the hunting of the Dreadwolf, the two Elven ‘gods’ and their double-Bight. He could continue working to make Kirkwall into a bastion of the Free Marches, improving the lives of the citizens and the city he takes so much pride in.

(well ignoring the destruction of Southern Thedas, god so pointless and vindictive on the part of the devs…)

He could have still been the narrator but from a tangible distance. Only retelling it from second hand accounts, etc.

Or maybe just a lore drop, a supportive letter that finds it's way to Rook with some words of encouragement.

But all that is for head-cannons, fanfictions and fan art.

~

So with that, moving forward I think I am going to be a little of both, I will go into the future, beyond the disappointments of Bioware and The Veilguard. To different studios and new series.

But I will still continue to always love and enjoy, Varric Tethras and the Dragon Age Trilogy.

Thank you very much, either to the void or to any one for taking the time to read this mess.

[accio-lo-ki]

Hii would you have any percabeth fic recs?? I'm just deprived 😭😭

Oh I have a LOT. If you’re as insane about this ship as I am, you’ve probably read all of them but I’m still going to list them down anyway. So, in no particular order:

Whiny Little Pitch by petersgwen - this fic literally made me scream multiple times. everything by this author is chef’s kiss btw. Sports au like no other + exes to lovers

Apartment 305 by waddled - a literal serotonin boost monster of a fic that i’m sure most already know about . i love percy and annabeth’s relationship here, and their characterization. It’s got college romance, olympic athlete Percy, and pipabeth bffism at its finest.

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated at School by lammermoorian - man this one I reread a lot. I just love it so much. Academic!Percy, domestic percabeth, and just a whole lot of charm

Honesty and Promise Me by Darkmagyk, lammermoorian - never thought I would enjoy punk!annabeth until this fic. it has unexpected pregnancy but it’s so well done! fwb to lovers!

For Real This Time by captainjackson, timelesslords - anything written by this pair is a must-read, but this is one of their best! roman!percy and divorced annabeth! the premise is so interesting and the setting even more so.

Murkiest Intentions by inkncoffee - i feel like this fic shows my age, but when i tell you it’s a classic! jurassic world au (it sounds crazy but it’s so good) i’ve been rereading this since high school and it still holds up

Would it really kill you (if we kissed) by greenconverses - i mean, who hasn’t read this and all the author’s works? but it’s a classic in the fandom and it’s a classic for a reason

The Old Guard au by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - this series is so well-written with such a solid worldbuilding you have to binge it this instant go

Love me, won’t you by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - modern romeo and juliet with greece as a backdrop? sign me tf up

the sun stands by petersgwen- if you want pain this is it this fic is pain in fanfiction form

That crosses the white sea by husborth - another well-written masterpiece with percabeth in college

Voice on the radio by PastyPirate - another fandom classic! this one has me giggling kicking my feet everytime i reread it. soulmate au! musician!percy! and friendship bracelets!

The Heart is a Muscle by thebackupkid - I feel like this one is so underrated, but it’s so good and so interesting and distinct! it’s got magic and adventure and fantasy! the worldbuilding again is so good!

Impossible Year by bananannabeth - another pain in fiction form. but this time it has a breakup trope, which destroys me so much I always need years before i want to reread this again. but it’s a masterpiece and you should experience it at least once in your life!!

Game, Set, Match by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - if there’s a classic percabeth sports au, it’s this. and it has fwb too and it’s just too iconic

Stucco Hearts by ananbeth, writergirl8 - another fandom classic, but this time it’s a soulmate au! this is so so interesting and one of my favorite soulmate aus ever. the worldbuilding is so interesting. another case of it’s a classic for a reason!

Puck It by bipercabeth, jasonmclean - hockey au + friends w benefits. again, another fandom classic. unfortunately i think this was discontinued by the authors but it’s still too good not to read!

Broken glass, no reflection by ananbeth, flyingcrowbar - another (potentially) discontinued fic that I still think about now. it’s a pacific rim au and it’s so. goddamn. good. read it now !!

kiss me once cause you know i had a good night by herecomesthepun - this one is pure comedic fluff and if you need a serotonin boost you have to read it. workplace romance with a twist !

slow motion double vision in a rose blush by herecomesthepun - ooh this one is a high school fwb secret relationship au with a punk percy and a student council president annabeth so basically it’s a classic

and they were roommates by bipercabeth - friends to lovers + college percabeth like no other. another fandom classic

Never Shall We Die by captainjackson, timelesslords - this pirate au series is INSANE it’s crazy good the worldbuilding is amazing it makes me feral actually

Wreck my plan, that’s my man by seaweedbraens - everything by this author is so good they’re a fandom icon but this one in particular i think about daily (tho it’s ongoing)

How to Seduce an Earl by sinfulindulgence - this is hella spicy but it’s also so addicting? i blame bridgerton (this author does so much stuff w this vibe that u should check out too! i liked Revenge of the Duchess as well)

Night at the Museum by lammermoorian - it’s so niche and crazy and camp but also angsty and fluffy and you need to read it right this second ! i LOVE this one

faster than a hairpin trigger by medeaa - this one is the quintessential percabeth fwb college au TO ME. unfortunately it’s (potentially) discontinued, but it’s still one of my favorites.

watch me fall at your feet by maydayparade8123 - this is a really well-written friends to lovers fic that realt explored how confusing it is to fall in love with your best friend like,, it’s a classic but also it’s so real !! this author is a fandom icon but i think they deleted / orphaned their accounts on ff.net and ao3

spellbound by writergirl8 - this is the percabeth hogwarts au. i dont make the rules.

home is where i want to be (but i guess i’m already there) by percivaljackson - fake dating + holidays! this is so well-written!

‘tis the damn season by captainjackson - regency au at its finest!!

-

This is way too long already lmao i dont have the time to list down everything (i have 700+ percabeth fanfics downloaded on my ibooks app 😭) but these are the ones that i can recall at this time !! Happy reading!

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Top 3 Are HEATING UP

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Honestly, 3 are neck & necking for top position! They are all so good in different ways. But The Sign had me hooting with laughter this week, so it scooped #1.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, paranormal, fated mates, mystery, suspense, slasher, and horror. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. I have no idea what I’m watching but I’m ON this ride. Is it a roller coaster? Is it a haunted house? Is it a twirl & hurl? Is there candy floss? Am I even tall enough? Who tf cares. All through the second scene, I was laughing. It was legit funny. Billy has great comedic timing. Guess he’s not just a pretty face.

Everyone should be watching this. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 -  Yech. August may be one of GMMTV’s least likable characters ever (and that is saying something). Meanwhile, MOAR language play! They spoiling me!

Mhok letting Day go then walking away at the party hurt so bad.

Argh this show is great!

Ep 6 so that kiss was right on schedule. I’m looking forward to the boyfriend eps before doom & pain in the new year. Carry on GMMTV. 

Speaking of...

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Oh they’re great. It’s great. It’s paced oddly, moving quickly through most of the key scenes of the original JBL in these first 2 eps. I think it’s intending to encompass more of the manga series than that one did. Which is good, cause that will get us all the way to The Library Kiss (TM). It's the best kiss in the manga. I also like the sides in this show (better than the JBL version). 

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8fin - What a lovely slightly unhinged little show. Tew, can we talk? Un-ironic suspenders, that takes courage. Also, the revolver was a crazy gun choice. 

Final thoughts:

This show is just as ridiculous as its title. About a gaymer who falls in love with one of his in-game teammates, who just happens to be a IRL gangster. A real gangster, the kind that actually kills people regularly. The lead pair is doing their best with a ridiculous story and shoddy script, but I enjoyed it. Although I was grateful it wasn’t very long, what we got was oddly satisfying if, frankly, a little bit silly. Recommended. 8/10 

That said, what's important about this BL is not the show, but the production and style. Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.

This is a chimera BL. Regarding characters: it has Japan's style otaku + Korea's style gangster + Thailand's style friendship group. It used Thai talent + Korean money (Kakao) & IP (adapted from a manwha) but aired on a Chinese channel globally (iQIYI). I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production and truly doubt that any other genre but BL could ever produce like this. It's like diplomat's BL and it's the great wonder of our age that it happened at all. This BL deserves its place in the history books on production alone, even if that place is only in the footnotes. A remarkable little monster.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - The sides are… messy. Using the same actor for the old bf is… odd. But in the end, this show leaves me smiling. Which means, I like it despite myself. 

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - It's decent. It’s basically what I wanted Antique Bakery to be when I first watched that way back when (not to mention Bite Me). But there’s been so much BL since then that, for some reason, this is falling flat. I think it’s moving too fast for a Thai series. Although, say what you like, Ohm has to be one of the best soft kissers in the industry. He's just good at mouth tenderness.

Ugh, that doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 7 of 10 - I love how First is so upset when Sprite starts chatting and being nice to Koh. Sprite is just a sweet easy-going likable boy. I enjoy Sprite as a main character, he’s a bubbly little communicator. And they had a cute kiss.  

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 14 - Because there was more Alan and Jeff and they were more key to the plot I was more into this ep. I do compare it to green smoothie down the pants in the Trash Watch.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 3 of 12 - Look OffGun are truly great. But I’m just not sure we need them in BL anymore. That said, it’s nice to see Off as "the one with the crush" for a change. Also, this show is only good when OffGun are on screen together, otherwise it kinda, well, sucks.

Night Dream (Sat YT) ep 1 of 6 - Cafe setting featuring a cook and a writer. *Seems awfully familiar.* Except these two are exes and this is a reunion romance. It’s stiff and very pulp but not bad (no crap sound effects) and I am a sucker for a reunion romance. That said, Rookie Thailand is not to be trusted, proceed with caution.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 12fin - I'm grateful this is over. It was tense but for the wrong reasons - sadness and confusion. This final episode was fine, but that’s because it was mostly them being together + flashbacks. Plus all the familiar actor faces of the grown-up friends (hi, Karn my lovely, still stunning I see). But 2 of 12 episodes is not enough for the 10 of suffering and confusion that came before.

In conclusion:

A man is killed on his 10th anniversary resulting in a time paradox, for which the only solution is him never meeting his childhood sweetheart until later in life. Both lovers cycle back to the past at different ages, so that they each become their own 1st & 2nd great loves, but every time it ends in pain, until each also endures 10 years of separation. Finally it gets fixed, but leaves them with multiple memories of time's failures like temporal PTSD, and everyone around them has chronic deja vu. Me? I got both. This is one of those BLs that is high-quality with great acting but poor story. If you like your BL dwelling, maudlin, and tense due to angst and suffering, then you might enjoy this. But I just regret it, 6/10. Recommended only if you like confusing time travel emo pain.

In which case, just watch Tokyo in April is... instead. Give over Thailand, Japan does it better.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 6 of 8 - While our main couple isn’t working for me... the side couple isn’t working for me either. I really wanted to give LeoTai a chance, this is the 3rd show I’ve seen them in, and still nope. I like Jade a lot more when he’s sad. He’s a much more pleasant screen experience depressed. I would like him to stay hurt for a couple of eps, just so I can enjoy this show a tiny bit more. But then he just goes unhinged again. Argh. I just don’t like it. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Pisces of Me ep 17 of 24 - Codependent boyfriends in middle school planning for high school dealing with stuff. Including other boys being into them. 

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 5 of 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. DNF 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - It’s cute but I don’t think BL in this short format is Taiwan’s strength these days. And this is quite slow and dull. Perhaps they should have whacked it down to 6 eps, not 10.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - This is one of those JBLs that I should like on paper but is failing me. The drag bit was ridiculous but handled gently. The kiss was… well… something wasn’t it? It’s all very odd. I like the photographer cutie character. 

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) this is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

Next Week Looks Like This

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

He so pretty.

I forgot how likable TayNew are, and frankly I think New is a better version of this role for me, personally. I like him a lot. He's a conscientious sweetheart. And a good egg. (Cherry Magic)

Ah the rooftop my old friend. (Last Twilight)

I would like to point out that it's no accident the naga's sex dream happened in the shower, he's a water creature after all. (The Sign)

(Last week)

[talistheintrovert]

Hi, Talis! I have a bit of a random question - do you have any sort of 'starter pack' recommendations for Chinese dramas? (I've really been enjoying Mysterious Lotus Casebook, but haven't been sure where to go from there.)

oooooh, EXCELLENT question!!

If we're going via "these men are in love but [CENSORSHIP SIREN RINGS LOUDLY]" then I'd go for

Guardian: semi-modern sci-fi/fantasy featuring a chaotic bisexual detective and the all-powerful god-like uptight professor he bothers into loving him. 10/10, bonkers CGI and ridiculous side characters only add to the enjoyment

2. Sound of Providence/Ultimate Note (really any of The Lost Tomb series but these are my personal favourites). Three idiots that call themselves The Iron Triangle (said idiots are a genius, a wiseguy, and a semi-immortal amnesiac) and their various tomb-raiding adventures!

Also has iconic side characters, might I add. The chronology of this whole series is so baffling and ridiculous I may have to make a video about it, but these two series hold a special place in my heart - they came out within weeks of each other, but in one the characters are in their 40s and in the other they're like... 22? at most? ICONIC, BEAUTIFUL, SHOWSTOPPING-

also the genius and the immortal amnesiac are in love, and the wiseguy is basically their third, it's a whole thing

3. Under the Skin

modern day crime series, featuring a detective and an artist. The artist is a SAVANT who can basically draw ANYTHING he puts his mind to, but in the past it meant he accidentally got an undercover cop killed without knowing. A few years later, he decides to become a police sketch artist as repentance. Said cop was our detective's mentor, and he's still salty about it but OH LOOK, THEY'VE BEEN PARTNERED UP!

4. WORD OF HONOR

my favourite of the fantasy homoerotic dramas, and the one that inspired me to start writing a video essay about them. Two soulmates meet who are destined for nothing but misery - one is trying to destroy the entire martial arts world for revenge and the other is an ex-assassin who's chosen to die slowly as penance for his murders. Through each other (and their idiot adopted son) they find happiness, kinda. This show is part of why I liked Mysterious Lotus Casebook so much - very similar found-family vibes, except they start out as enemies in MLC, whereas in this they start out as reluctant allies.

non-extremely-homoerotic recs:

Love Story Between Fairy and Devil

Evil being who has been trapped in a magical prison escapes said prison by accidentally body-swapping with an innocent fairy, but even after they swap back, he's tied to her (feels pain when she does, etc.) and so has to keep her around against his will. Enemies to lovers gorgeousness.

2. 19th Floor

fantasy/sci-fi drama where a group of strangers get thrust into an AI world (in a good way, the way AI ACTUALLY MEANS) where if you get hurt in the game, you go into a coma in real life. Every level has a different extremely fucked up mechanic to solve, and the cast are an absolute delight, also the main male lead is played by one of my favourite actors, so I'm slightly biased. Extremely cuntslay show.

3. My Journey to You

A group of female assassins go undercover in a kingdom to apply to be wives to the royals in order to take them down from the inside but OH NO, MIGHT THEY ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE WITH THEIR TARGETS???? Also the female assassins are weirdly sapphic with each other, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and Esther Yu is one of the hottest women to ever exist and you may quote me on that.

gif from here: https://talistheintrovert.tumblr.com/post/730663645629054976 because it wouldn't let me do it properly (credit: @xiaolanhua )

4. You Are My Glory

dorky romance between two of the most stunningly beautiful people I've ever seen in my life, seriously, it's ridiculous. Their chemistry is good, the story is easy, and it's generally a fun, romantic watch.

5. Love You Seven Times

two gods(?) forced to live seven different lifetimes together because of a mishaps, it's glorious, it's gender envy, it's enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to lovers to friends to lovers excellence.

6. Till the End of the Moon

Did you like Love Between Fairy and Devil? then you'll LOVE this show, which has functionally the same plot, except that the female lead KNOWINGLY tries to seduce the future evil villain in order to either assassinate him or stop him from becoming evil, it's a coin toss for her. A brilliant show with fantastic performances and some of the best costume design on this list (which is a high bar, the costumes in all these shows serve unbelievable amounts of cunt).

I hope those are enough to keep you going for a little while! I'm always here to answer rec asks fr, it's one of my favourite things.

Anyway, I'm off to cross the nullabor, so I'll be out of range for the next few days, I hope you enjoy this nonsense!

[mistydeyes]

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!

i’m currently not active atm but feel free to pursue my previous works <3

here's a short lil explanation as to where i am lol

click me for asks + requests :)

requests: closed atm!

pairings status: closed atm!

rules for requests - i love when you send things 💌

note - message me or comment on any one of my works if you want to be added to a tag list :)

I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!

some things about me :)

the basics: 22, she/her, from the us :)

i'm a third year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society

along with writing, i also intern at a retail pharmacy during the summer and a psychiatric hospital during the school year

so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!

𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist

don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

O N E - S H O T S

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

some writings from the inbox

medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them

𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

[lafaiette]

The level of disappointment I feel for the new dragon age game is just so consuming. Like I'll admit that after so many years, I didn't think it would hold true to what the previous game set up. But I hate that I was right, and I hate that a game series I loved so much sas turned into what it is now. I didn't buy it at launch because I wanted to wait for a sale, but with all that I'm hearing I'm wondering if it's even worth it. I'm just so sad for how this all went and I wish it hadn't happened. It even makes replaying the old games feel like scorched earth because nothing I do will have an effect on anything. It never mattered. The game that said my choices matter has now said "actually you never mattered" and I'm so heartbroken about it.

It even makes replaying the old games feel like scorched earth because nothing I do will have an effect on anything. It never mattered. The game that said my choices matter has now said "actually you never mattered" and I'm so heartbroken about it.

This is also one of the most painful parts for me, together with the way they handled - or ignored - a majority of the established lore.

In Veilguard, we learn that the majority of the South is basically gone: Denerim is lost, Redcliffe is under siege, getting help from the dwarves of Orzammar, who are already stretched thin. The ruler of Ferelden is never addressed - what happened to them? Are they still alive? Are they defending Redcliffe? We'll never know.

Orlais is also lost. Val Royeaux and Halamshiral are barely holding on, and a noble faction decided (for some stupid reason) to join the Venatori and spread even more chaos. The ruler of Orlais is never addressed - are they dead? Did the rebel nobility kill them? What happened to Briala's elves? We'll never know.

Kirkwall has fallen, and Aveline has been forced to evacuate the city and move the few survivors to Starkhaven. We know that Varric is dead, so Aveline or someone else will have to take his place, if Kirkwall can even be recovered (doubtful at this point).

The Blight is back in Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds, too, with only some Avvar and Alamarri clans keeping things under control while in a temporary truce with Ferelden.

Everything we ever accomplished in DA:O, DA2, and DA:I is gone. They turned the South into a blank state so they can leave it there, ignoring it, now that the focus will be on Those Across the Sea, as the secret ending slide shows. This blank state will also allow them to return to the South, should they ever wish to, but without the need to take into account the players' past choices, because everything we knew, everything we built and fought for, is gone.

"Oh, Ferelden changed so much in the last twenty years or so, ever since that terrible Blight caused by the elven gods!"

"Orlais isn't the same anymore, there is another civil war because we lost our previous ruler. Who was it? Oh, I don't know, I wasn't born yet, I couldn't care less."

"Pity about Kirkwall. I heard it was a shithole, but the beer at the Hanged Man was apparently pretty good."

^ This is what we will get in the future.

[thevelria]

Are you looking for a vampire? (vampire!Gojo x fem!reader) (SFW)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: I've never written vampire Gojo before and I haven't even seen too much of fics with him as a vamp. So I wanted to try something new since I love vampires and I love Gojo.

Also huge thanks for my lovely @ladycheesington as always <3

warnings: mentions of blood but other than that it's pure flirt and fluff

wordcount:1.7K

Big yawn and an even bigger stretch eased your pain. It was dark, late at night but you were still working on the research. As a journalist at a famous newspaper you had to sacrifice your sleep from time to time. You never complained, though, because you loved your job, your coworkers and surprisingly you had a wonderful boss. 

Supernatural stories of yours made into a series in the magazine. Your readers loved your work and nudged you for a while to come up with something about vampirism. Weeks, even months have passed and you kept searching for any proof of their existence.

As you were walking down the street you felt like someone followed you. The bit of a rainy night, the chilly wind and your lack of sleep made you think your mind played a game with you. 

The key slid easily into the lock and heard that clicking sound before opening your front door. As you stepped in you took off your shoes and placed your umbrella into its holder a funny feeling rushed through your body.  “I’m so tired.” you mumbled as you walked into the living room and turned on the lights. 

Crystal white hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes greeted you. Instantly you froze in your action as the shock took over your body. You wanted to scream or run away but instead you stood still without a slight move. A few seconds passed when you grabbed your phone in your pocket and tried to dial the number of the police. Before you were able to hit the call button the device simply disappeared from your palm. Your eyes widened and your lips parted. 

“I’ve heard you were looking for a vampire.” the raspy voice broke the tense silence and you snapped your head to the unknown man. The second you noticed your phone in his hand you frowned. “Okay, this is interesting.” you thought to yourself. 

“Who are you?” you breathed heavily. “What do you want? Why are you in my home and how did you get in and…” you kept shooting all the questions without a break. 

“Easy.” he chuckled. “As I said I’ve heard you were looking for a vampire, so  thought I would visit you.” 

Insanity? Probably. But you walked slowly to your desk, grabbed your laptop and placed it on the table before you took a seat right in front of the unknown handsome man. “I swear I’ll be so ashamed if he’s going to kill me.” you thought.

“Are you trying to say you are one of them?” you frowned.

“I’m not trying, I am literally saying that.” he smirked and flashed his fangs slightly. Your eyes widened and you gulped big. 

“Well, I might regret this but would you give me an interview then? First you could start with your name…” you clicked your tongue but regretted it instantly. Maybe giving an attitude to a vampire wasn’t the best idea. On the other hand he just chuckled and nodded. 

“I’m Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you.” 

After a few minutes of basic and boring questions, such as how old is he, where he comes from etc, you asked him about his past. Gojo surprisingly answered every question you asked him. He talked for hours about his home, he described the centuries he lived in with so much detail it amused you. 

“You’re telling me you were turned in the 1700s?” your eyes widened. 

“Exactly. It was a messy night. I was drunk and reckless and blinded by those big, fat boobs.” he cleared his throat. “I mean I was tricked…”

You pulled a slight smirk while shaking your head a bit. “Power of the boobs.” you whispered.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

“Sorry.” you felt as the blush crawled upon your face.

After talking about the 1700s he stopped out of the blue.

“Why did you stop?” you looked up at him confused. You noticed him staring at your neck like a beast gazes at its prey. “Uhm, it would be a shame if you killed me now.” you tried to hide your nervousness. “You know, before I publish your story and all…”

“I would never hurt you, darling.” he growled. 

“Will you continue? I think we just got to the end of the 1700s.”

“No, not tonight.” he slowly stood up and pushed back the chair. The confused look on your face made him chuckle. “I won’t tell you everything at once, so I can see you tomorrow night too and the day after.” he smirked. 

You blushed from head to toe, you had no idea what was gotten into you but this crystal white haired man definitely had an effect on you. 

***

The next night you were more eager than you expected. You were sitting in the living room waiting for the vampire. Excitement and fear were mixed in your mind and you had to admit it was going to be harder to handle than it seemed in the beginning. Sweaty palms rested on your thighs, slightly squeezing your own flesh and hoping to ease the tension. Then like a flash of light he appeared in front of you, sitting on the chair lazily once again. 

“Shall we start?” he crossed his legs as he laid back in his seat. 

The upcoming nights seemed exactly like this. You were sitting and waiting for him. There was one thing, though, that kept changing night by night. The feeling of enjoyment. The euphoria he gave you every single time he appeared in your home. You started to feel more and more comfortable around him. He never even once showed any sign of threat, he always acted polite and gentle and maybe he flirted a bit but you weren’t sure about that. 

The realization hit you hard when you noticed it was supposed to be the last night you met him. The story, his story, was about to come to an end. You didn’t want that at all. 

“Hello, beautiful.” he greeted you with his typical sweet smile, flashing his mesmerizing blue eyes at you. “Before we start I have a question I need to ask.” 

You nodded without any words. 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he said it as if it was all natural to ask.

“Excuse me?” your eyes widened.

“I like you and you like me too.” he shrugged.

“How do you know that I like you?” you raised one of your eyebrows.

“Oh, drop the act, sweetheart. I can hear your heartbeat. It speeds up the second you see me, whenever I smile at you or compliment you. Oh, just like now. It’s really sweet, you know.” he kept teasing. 

“Okay, okay, fine. Stop it, please.” your cheeks became as red as a tomato. 

“I take it as a yes.” he chuckled as he reached his hand out for you to take. 

***

There was a huge ferris wheel in the city with cabins which seemed like the perfect place for a date. While you were sitting in it he told you the rest of his story. The way he got into this city and how he heard about you. You tried to focus on his words, you really did try but couldn’t take your eyes off his pinky rose lips. The single thought of feeling his lips against yours drove you wild. Gojo noticed it and playfully made a joke.

“You should take some notes, darling. but you can taste my lips later, if you still want to.” 

Suddenly you choked on the air and cleared your throat. “I wasn’t looking at them like that.” you snapped back. But you both knew it was a lie. You were definitely looking at them like that. 

Satoru leaned so close you could smell his minty breath. “You sure?” he whispered. His words sent shivers down your spine and you lost it. With one quick move you grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your lips against his. His lips tasted just as you imagined if not even better. The second you felt his tongue entering your mouth a soft moan escaped you which encouraged him to keep going. 

After a few sloppy kisses the ride ended you had to leave the cabin. Satoru kept silent but frowned his fingers with yours and you walked to a park hand in hand. 

Billions of thoughts were rushing through your mind when you arrived at a bench and you decided to sit down. The charming vampire kept talking and talking, adding bits of details to the story to be full. A slight smirk crawled upon your face as you started to draw little circles into his palm. Satoru read you like a book, he knew what you were thinking about.

“Are you really sure about this?” he leaned so close he was able to lick your neck. 

“Please!” you begged as you tilted your head a bit, giving him more access. 

At first it felt painful and weird but just a second later the uneasy feeling was replaced with joy and pleasure. You couldn’t help but moan into the night as he kept sucking gently on your neck. Everything happened so quickly you didn’t even realize when it was already over. 

Not even a single drop escaped, he savoured all of it. Maybe the adrenalin, maybe the lack of sanity but you wanted to kiss him more than anything. And so you did. You kissed him. It was a sloppy kiss, an aggressive one and you still tasted your blood on his tongue. 

Even if you were ready to spend the night with this charming vampire he appeared to be a gentleman. 

“We should stop before I lose my control, darling.” he broke the kiss and laid back a bit. 

“What if I want you to lose control?” you teased as you bit his lower lip. A dangerous growl escaped his mouth. His super speed allowed him to take you home in a heartbeat. 

Before you even realized you were laying on your bed and were about to experience how a vampire acted when he lost his control.