#I can handle dying when it's from my own mistakes.

[roxtron]

i know barely anyone who follows me knows kh and i doubt anyone has played chain of memories but HOLYY SHIT. i am. so done with this game, it's driving me insane. I love the story to death but the FUCKING GAMEPLAY??? I genuinely have to wonder WHO APPROVED THIS??? Like, goddamn there is a REASON people hate it so much, and it's insane to me. Like. I've beaten some of the most difficult secret bosses in this series, chain of memories was the only game I didn't play yet (besides melody of memory but like.. that's a rythm game) and I'm just. I'm shocked. truly. I simply need to complain about it because it's just baffling that this is the final release and the combat system is so blatantly just unfair. For people who don't know the series and might still care for some reason: my most notable issue is the card reload system. you can only attack the enemy using cards, but every time you use a card you need to reload to use it again. Problem is sometimes your cards will become un-reloadable and that's just an unpreventable thing. Y'know what that means? YOU CAN GET SOFTLOCKED. SO EASILY. SO YOU CAN'T ATTACK, OR HEAL, OR DO ANYTHING. AT ALL. that alone is just AWFUL. You shouldn't be able to get softlocked like that, that's just insane to me. That and the fact the final boss has an attack that can kill you instantly, and if you die there you have to do the first phase all over again (and the first phase is not short, btw.) I am.. so tired. I don't wanna give up because I'm literally SO CLOSE.. but.. this is just objectively complete bullshit.. Worst part is they thought it was a good idea for the first phase to be a floating boss, meaning like, 80% of your attacks can't reach him, especially if you accidentally use a card combo meant for ground-combat. Augh.. I know probably nobody cares about this but. I needed to rant about it. This is painful.

[leonsgfpost]

note: hello, this is my first post and english is not my first language, please understand me haha. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm a little nervous. I would appreciate your support, btw thanks 🎀💗

tags: smut, daydreaming and fantasizing, leon is a pervert, leon RE2 x f!reader.

Leon has never been a high libido guy. He's had one girlfriend in his whole life and a few causal encounters with girls after he got off work. And he enjoyed it, but it was no more than that. A passing moment of pleasure. His sex drive was something he could handle.

Until you came into his life.

The first time Leon saw you, he swore you were an angel. Pretty hair, pretty smile and bright eyes that made his knees weak. But it was no more than that, just an innocent thought. And quickly that little crush on you gradually grew.

At first, he would daydream that he could walk up to you to talk without stumbling over his words like an idiot, and you would smile at him so sweetly that he would forget his name. Maybe I would imagine you on a date. What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you be more shy or funny? What movie would you choose to watch when you two got to the cinema? He would kiss you softly and leave you at your front door. He would be a gentleman for you. But quickly, he began to yearn for more than just a casual greeting or small, empty, casual conversations in the police station break room. When he was alone in the privacy of his room, his imagination would quickly start to run wild and he'd end up with his hands inside his sleep pants jerking his dick hard like he was a fucking teenager again. And that was what Leon had become because of you, a dumb hormonal teenager begging for attention. He mind filled with thoughts he hadn't had in a while. The wet dreams were not long in coming. He had to run to masturbate in the bathroom after a little interaction that returned tight his blue pants tucked snugly. He blushed furiously when their gazes met. God, he was a loser when it came to you.

And here he was again, rubbing his cock hard in the loneliness of his room. Your name falling from his lips with little pleas.

"Please... Please, I just want-" He couldn't finish speaking, choking on his pathetic moans. He hand was rapidly going up and down on him, fantasizing that it was your hand in reality. Little beads of sweat pooling under his blond hair. The constant image of you, lying on his bed and spreading your pretty legs for him tormented him. He just wanted to sink his face into you, run his eager tongue through your folds and drown in the nectar of your pussy. How would you like it? Would you be noisy if he put two fingers inside you? Would you pull his hair hard or just cry while he eats you? He's dying to know. Die to know what kind of expressions you'd put on when he sinks into your heat hard, too stunned to finally have you. Die to know what kind of expressions would cross that pretty face of yours. At the way your nails would dig into his skin leaving marks. He swears he can see you clearly underneath him, his eyes fixed on how his cock slips in and out and his hands firmly hold your thighs. Leon doesn't consider he to have a good physique, but come on. He could hold you still against the mattress as he immobilizes you with his weight, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"You like that, babe? Huh-?" he asks the air, too lost in his cloud and how his hand squeezed his cock, fantasizing that they were your walls.

"Tell me it feels good, moan my name.... P-Please-!" He murmured, his hips ramming his own hand with need. The spiral of his orgasm forming quickly in his belly, because since you appear in his mind, he can't hold back and ends up cumming too fast. Your face prettily flushed, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and making the hottest expressions towards making Leon's mind spin senselessly.

"Leon, Leon-" He swears he can hear your voice ringing in his head, causing him to roll back on the pillows. Your body jerking from his onslaught, your tits bouncing from the jerky movements and his thumb making quick little circles on your clit was from his favorite fantasies to use right now. Your sweet moans asking him to cum inside was what made his hips jerk, your fingers digging into his skin keeping him from pulling away. And he knows, he knows he could fill you so good you'd go silly for a bit of his dick. Though he was the loser who would beg to get his hands on you.

His breathing becomes heavier, his face puckers with pleasure and his back arches slightly, pushing his hips higher to meet his hand.

He imagines your bright eyes opening to look at him, your eyelashes slightly wet with tears and opening your lips to moan his name. And with that image, his orgasm ran over him like a train. His cock jerking hard as strands of cum splattered across his abdomen and thighs, making a mess. His eyes squeezed shut tight, letting out a long, low, wild moan. His mind took a while to clear, imagining a cute, drunken smile on your lips as he filled you. He was fucked. As he slowly came down from that high, his eyes focused again and his cock softened, jerking his hand through the fat strands of his fluids dropping his fingers.

"Damn." He muttered staring at the ceiling intently, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving with every heavy breath he took.

He was definitely going to ask you out tomorrow. He had to do it before he went crazy.

I'm so in love with him I'm losing my mind. Please let me know if u liked this!

update: omg, this got more support than I thought!! You can now find the second part on my profile! 🎀

bye, bye (💌)

[peachsukii]

Imagining being a pro hero that's caught by the paparazzi one day after a rescue, demanding to know your relationship status cause sex sells and shit. Of course nothing pertaining to the main perk of your job as a hero - saving people.

"Y/H/N! Fans are dying to know if you're on the market or not!"

You roll your eyes while wiping your gloves off on your thighs, dirt and grime smearing on the material.

"I save lives and am on the clock 24/7. Do you think I have time for someone else right now?" You don't mean to come off snippy, but you're exhausted and sick of the media focusing on this bullshit and not the important part of your work.

The reporter keeps pressing until a few more approach you, barking similar questions and absurd suggestions about dating a hero instead of a citizen. You're trying to wave them off to catch up with the police and give them your report, struggling to get them off your tail when Bakugo sees your distress. He only knows you by proxy, working with you a handful of times and only exchanging words related to whatever rescue or fight you were tasked with.

He shouldn't intervene, but fuck it.

He walks up to you and casually drapes his arm over your shoulders. The close proximity to you makes his skin crawl, but not in a disgusting way, more of a...nervous way.

"What's the problem?" Bakugo shouts, glaring at all the reporters one at a time. "We got shit to handle."

"Are you two an item?!" a few of the reporters chirp, cameras rapidly flashing at the two of you.

Bakugo's not thinking when he responds nonchalantly. "Sure, whatever, now fuck off and let us do our jobs ya extras!"

He turns you around and shoves his middle finger in the air at the crowd behind him, shuffling the two of you out of their sight. He lets his arm fall from your shoulders.

"Uhh...thank you?" you say hesitantly, confused by his actions. "I appreciate it."

"S'nothin', those pricks are never satisfied. Good work today, Y/H/N. Saved my ass with your quick reaction to the buildin' collapsing."

"Of course, we gotta have each other's backs out there."

And that's it - your conversation is over and you two go your separate ways.

It's the next day that the press starts rolling out the headline, "Y/H/N and Dynamight revealed to have secret romance!" that is going to force the two of you to talk again. Bakugo's kicking himself in the ass over what he said to them, and his actual girlfriend is pissed as hell, too. Aside from the thousands of notifications from social media, emails and messages, one stands out to you while trying to sort this whole thing out.

(Unknown): Hey, it's Dynamight. Got your number from your agency. (Unknown): This shit is getting out of hand and we need to do damage control. (Unknown): Call me whenever you can, thanks.

What a pain in the ass, but at least he's willing to own up to the mistake and talk with you about it.

Little did you know it wasn't to correct the rumor's validity, but to perpetuate it.

[persicipen]

corporal punishment ノ kamisato ayato

₊ ˙ ⊹ . after failing your special shuumatsuban mission against the fatui, there’s nothing left for you but to admit your mistake and return to the kamisato estate. it’s required of you to face the impending punishment for not meeting the necessary perfectionism.

ৎ୭ — · · 2.6k ノ afab gn reader — sponsored through @ficsforgaza project ノ implied light torture . pain kink — reader is into this dynamic ノ spanking . fingering . edging . orgasm ruining ノ not in the spotlight but also mentioned — rope play . bondage ノ ayato is weirdly calm and talkative :3

You fucked up.

Yes, exactly. No need to sugarcoat or try to explain that it wasn’t as severe of a mistake. The worst that could have happened, in your humble opinion. Escaping alive seemed not a good outcome either, now that the entire plan was ruined; the whole operation stagnated because of your lack of professionalism.

Nibbled by guilt on your way back, you knew that what awaits you in the estate is nothing but a punishment. The Lord Commissioner may be merciful, but after messing up with Fatui, you truly wondered if dying by their hands wouldn’t be better than whatever was planned for your return by the head of the Kamisato clan himself.

The treatment was enough for you to forget how long you have been in the empty room, unsure if it’s still the house or somewhere else in case you wanted to scream for help. The fine wooden floors suggest nothing in particular. Could be anywhere, the secluded part of the residence, or maybe one of the summer houses, mayhaps even a rented place. Irrelevant, because you couldn’t remember how you got wrapped in all of this after your arrival.

So, how long has it been? An hour? Two? Not even one? Impossible to guess. Even more difficult to think when a beautifully carved-out handle of the sword presses so annoyingly to your clit, stiff and angled perfectly to hit you there despite your quivering legs trying to close in time — futile.

A strangled cry escapes your lips. It’s so troublesome to focus on anything but the arousal pulsing through your veins and the heavy scent of blooming camellias that lingers in the air, always following the graceful frame of the Yashiro Commissioner.

He is standing tall and beautiful before you, but his smile is nowhere to be seen. Serious face focused on disciplining his subordinate. The same face that looks down at you every time you kneel before him and slowly sink his cock into your mouth. A reward for being a good servant to the family.

It’s that kind of sternness. Observing your progress, scheduling special trainings, raising you as the shadow to act in his stead — and a good fuck from time to time. One that you don’t deserve right now, because you are a failure, a disgrace who failed a mission and survived only by chance, hoping that others complete the deal with the Fatui scum on their own.

You close your eyes, but the images of the ambush you’ve witnessed play in front of you nonetheless.

A scorching pain that does not soften — the opposite — when the handle of the sword taps between your legs again.

“Now, be so kind and remind me why we are doing this. I was certain we would be past this stage of our relationship after so many years. Tell me, am I wrong? Should we start again from scratch and you will learn to behave? Perhaps you will also remember how to speak.”

His tone is almost sweet, but it only makes you feel even more ashamed than before. A shame so intense it leaves your cheeks hot and wet, tears spilling on their own with no chance for you to stop them.

“My apologies. I know where I did fail. There is no need to— hngh… n-no need for— this… This is not necessary, m-my Lord… please…!”

Your Lord, as you weep, is persistent in circling the tip of the sheathed blade around your clit. It’s as safe as it can get, the blunt polished edge where he usually places his palm to hold the position, but no less brutal to treat you with that instead of his precise fingers or the most divine experience, now properly tucked in his pants so not even a bulge of arousal is visible on the white fabric.

You knew this was going to be bad when you had returned to the estate, yet there was nothing you could do. Standing before him, not by your own strength anymore, but by the ropes holding your body up along the tall wooden column, there was nothing you could have done, the fate inescapable.

Straining against the restraints doesn’t help at all. Even if you succeed, you’ll just fall to your knees on the floor, exposed and humiliated.

“I sincerely hoped there would be no reason for this treatment… Or perhaps I’ve been spoiling you too much? Was that the mistake I made?” He walks around you, unhurried.

You try to look back and follow his steps, but the thick ropes hold your wrists in place. A dull, but constant ache. The position you were put into spreads the same pain in your ankles and shoulders too, legs forced slightly open, enough for you to be compliant when your Lord decides what to do next.

“What I worry about is that if I continue using the same method, you will grow accustomed to it, even start to like it.” He circles you, a wounded prey within his reach. Even smiles whilst adjusting the leather gloves to fit his palms. “A pity to get rid of the beautiful knots already, but they were tied just to exhaust your limbs, specifically. Now, I fear, it’s the time to bring out something more substantial. Something with which you can truly learn from your mistakes… Ah, maybe even improve your endurance. The hard way, as we say.”

“M-my Lord, I’m sorry!”

“You’ll be, that I’m certain of.”

As if to mock your lack of energy, your Lord chooses to release you from the ropes and let you slide to your knees in front of him. For a second there, you evaluate the possibility of escape, but the blood running back to your legs turns into cramps and shivers, rendering you unable to stand or even move an inch.

A small mercy comes in the form of his gloved hand resting on your head. A gentle pat, like a dog, and warm praise.

“Don’t cry now. This is necessary for the sake of your future by my side. Don’t worry, I know your limits.”

Ethereal grace and cold expression on his face as he watches you weep before him. His trousers at last bear the outline of his cock to prove the arousal that you got him under such conditions. Or maybe just his own method to taunt you with what you won’t get this time.

He strokes through your hair, glides down the curve of your spine, following little wrinkles of the clothes that remained on your upper half — what cannot be said about your lower body.

Without further instructions, you push yourself forward to rest your face on the ground, the wood hard but gentle on your cheek. Arch your back so perfectly, present yourself for him, but it’s not enough for him to find a single word of praise at how eager you are. It’s expected of you to obey.

The anticipation ends when the finest leather of his glove reaches your ass, circles around it to elicit little goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Fingers run over the folds of your pussy, further and further down between your legs, too slow, but only because he knows the intense pleasure you’ll experience when he dips into you. Gladly imagining the juices from your wet cunt covering his hand. Alternatively, he’s just doing that to let you know, again, what will not be given to you this time.

The fleeting gentleness ends sharply with a precise swat on your ass. An immediate stinging pain fills the hollow where the flat of his palm struck your flesh and makes you gasp out. And cry.

Your Lord clicks his tongue in annoyance, and then a burdensome weight lands on your back, pressing you into the floor.

You don’t see him, but can smell him when he whispers in your ear.

“Now, now, why the agitation? I am not hurting you. I know well you used to find pleasure in worse pain. And I do not intend to cause you this much distress, simply because there’s a chance the reprimand will have the opposite effect. You wouldn’t want that, would you? For all my effort to go down the drain…”

He breathes out as if the mere thought of reminding you this exhausts him, but despite his words, he stays there, pressing down on you and rubbing the sore spot to ease the stinging sensation. Or tease it further. It is hard to tell.

And yet, you hear your own voice uttering back, “You are right… My apologies. I’ll try to endure it.”

“Good. That’s all I’m asking for.”

The second slap doesn’t come as a surprise. Nor the third. Neither the fourth. They all follow in succession, no rush, and with timid caresses in between, as if to amplify the contrast. Breathing hitched, sometimes twisting away from the weight of his palm on your ass — then scolded, made to present yourself properly again for the Commissioner himself.

He knows your limits, though, and knows what it takes to break you. So, there is no real reason to fear, right? Yet you shiver, and a cold sweat blooms on your skin like the morning dew. He would have been kind enough to make it painless, you hope.

Your Lord removes himself from your back to observe the results. To see the little ripples left behind after the impact. You keep still, trying to catch your breath, but also knowing that your entire silhouette pricks with needles of pain, thighs slick with the moisture leaking from between them.

“How easily your body betrays you…”

Another hit comes so hard you bite your lips not to cry out the most pathetic of mewls.

Instead of the usual, breaking the routine and not calming the flesh, his hand gracefully slides lower, between your cheeks. Pursuing. Invading. It is terrifying and makes your entire body flush hot when he does that, digits pushing against your hole. You never dare to disobey, though, merely whining as his fingertips press in, bluntly yet soft enough not to hurt. The smooth leather makes the little distance between yours and his skin unbearable, taking him further away from you despite his touch sneaking closer, a contradiction that feels like ice — because you cannot stand it, frustrated and hurting, on a brink of pleasure he denies you again.

But you stay still. Bite down the yearning bubbling at the high of your throat, clench around his glove as he presses in and almost breaches the first ring of muscles before pulling out completely away from your cunt.

If it wasn’t for another slap that sends you further into the floor, you’d wish to buckle your hips back, chasing the warmth of his palm. Ayato returns to gently kneading the abused flesh of your ass. The strokes linger longer each time, from the surface up to the cleft between your cheeks, drawing bolder circles that threaten to dip inside.

But no matter how far his hand travels, it always returns to your buttocks. Your skin is hot, sweaty, probably red from all the slaps and squeezing, a small, albeit recurring twinge of pain that spikes each time he lets his fingers slide lower and makes all your muscles tense from your impatience.

You wait for the next blow, but it doesn’t come. What comes instead is a lingering absence of touch. Ayato sits by your side on the floor, head resting in the palm of his hand as if bored.

“On your knees,” he says quietly. “Over my lap.”

Despite being strained, you know not to hesitate. Before the words could have finished escaping his lips, you scramble into position to rest your belly across his legs. His thighs are firm under your belly, his touch warm through the fabric of his pants as he caresses your back with one hand and the curves of your hips with the other.

You must say something, beg for forgiveness, praise him — whatever will grant you the easy way out, unaware that you’re already not thinking straight, because how else would you believe that the Yashiro Commissioner could soften by your pleas.

“I believe you have learnt your lesson,” he says, softer this time, “but just in case…”

“My Lord, I— I did… Ah!” You’re cut off by the touch — expecting another harsh swat — so tenderly reaching between your folds, calming the feverish skin with the cool of his fingertips.

“Hush now. Remember to obey.”

He takes his time to brush over the clit and gently spreads your labia before touching you again. This time not teasing at all. Ayato finds your hole easily and presses inside, sinking inside, deliberately slow, as if wanting to draw it out for as long as possible. Just two digits, but the fit is snug enough to make you shudder in both relief and agony. Finally, finally satiated, yet the granted mercy only deepens your desire, an endless hunger. You start writhing to get closer, albeit the hard cock under your belly only pulses from the attention you’re receiving and does not react to your needy little moans.

A different kind of exposure gets him aroused — not you, but the control he holds over you.

The tightness is eased by your own wetness that coats his fingers. Embarrassingly so, the trickle of fluids inevitably seeps down his wrist as well. The glove still remains on his hand, so all you can feel is the touch of fine leather against your walls, the gentle texture that glides through the moisture. Once again, seeking, invading, precise.

“There we go.”

“My Lord…! My apologies,” you cry, “I will not fail again. I swear it.”

“And I believe in you,” he breathes, barely audible.

His thumb returns to your clit before he pushes deeper inside, pressing so good that you shudder when a long-awaited release washes over you. Too quick and too abrupt, almost painful.

But just like a tidal wave, the pleasure passes as fast as it came, leaving you behind to quiver around his fingers while Ayato strokes your back soothingly. He does not pull out, instead keeps you in place with the stillness of his hand, and you do not dare move despite the settling disappointment that your orgasm got ruined. Your legs shake regardless.

“It’s… That’s all?” You ask, not pretentiously, not demanding, but full of broken hope and despairing, because it cannot be true that all that prolonged torture and tease, and care ends up like this. Like nothing. Like nothing at all.

Ayato sighs deeply, wiping his glove on your thighs. The wetness is sticky on your skin and immediately cold when he leans away to look at you.

“Yes, that is all. A punishment is a punishment. I do hope it won’t be necessary in the future.”

No reprimand follows after. Just a long look, pondering and attentive as always. He tilts his head to the side to assess the results.

“Come closer,” he says after a while.

So, you obey, parting your mouth wide to let him push the still gloved fingers past your teeth. He presses all the way down to your throat and then draws back so you can savour the sweet flavour of your own juices. Ayato holds his digits like that, resting on your tongue until saliva seeps past the corner of your mouth, so he may smear it across your lips.

“Pretty like that, aren’t you? If only you were working harder and completing your missions successfully so that, instead of sitting in this room, we could share my private bedroom. Alas…” He reaches to stroke your cheek, a sweet touch after all the pain. “Please, do not make me repeat myself ever again.”

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — i really hope this fic isn’t as messy as i think it is… i admit, i could work around the situation itself and flesh out the setting properly, but i didn’t really have enough creative juices within me at the time. i will also be grateful if you excuse me for writing ayato this way. i tried my best to highlight the weird side of his character, but… oh well :’3

[eva-stator]

I think I can try to answer anons questions about the characterizations. Apologies in advance because this is LOOOOOONG.

First things first, to be in the SAS means more than just being a soldier. The British SAS are the literal top of the top, cream of the crop of their special forces. They are compared a lot with DEVGRU (seals) and Delta Force. Less than 1% of armed forces members can pass selection and complete their training. They are all, in their own ways, very hardened individuals. They’re all extremely intelligent in several skills, and equally competent. (This isn’t to stroke off the special forces. They are not superhuman and are never immune to dying from their own mistakes or pure bad luck. It’s extremely dangerous to be in counter terrorism or do raids like they do, and a not insignificant amount die of dumb mistakes or unavoidable circumstances. But they’re not to be fucked with either)

Soap is sniper, demolitions expert. These require math skills and chemical knowledge. He’s intelligent, stoic sometimes but more spirited. He wants to help. He gets angry when bad things happen, and he seems to really care about civilians. He’s got a strong sense of right and wrong, and voices his opinions always. He pushes buttons and boundaries, but he’s no braggart. Equally, he is intense. His humour is actually kinda dry and teasing, banter style humour. He’s not actually very silly.

Ghost is more ambiguous. He’s more rugged and detached. More introverted. He only starts joking with soap in alone, more than halfway through the game, so his trust is gained through time and effort. His humour is dry, sometimes dad jokes and sometimes fucked up jokes. Overall, he’s emotionally detached and goal oriented. He’s got a bit of the sillies though, just a taste.

Gaz is an extremely important main character. He was vital in all games, including the first mw reboot game in 2019, his character was made before soap and ghosts were. (Which is why his deliberate exclusion is a goddamn travesty). He’s spirited and strong, his skills of resistance to interrogation, escape and evasion, as well as VIP protection means he’s an intelligent independent mind. While injustices anger him, he’s got a level head and can cede to reason and keep that anger supressed, as well as be an important voice of reason. He can also be sympathetic and guiding, as seen in the mission where he guides a civilian through an extremely dangerous situation to safety.

Captain price is a staple character for the series. He’s confident but also slightly unhinged. He’s experienced, maybe a bit detached, he doesn’t give a god damn about consequences unless he gets what he wants or completes his goal. He will throw every law out the window. He will abandon basic morals and principles. He’s extremely dangerous and not to be fucked with or questioned. Hes called John “war crimes” price by the fandom for a reason. He has his more gentle side, but it’s rare and he will only show it to people he seems worthy of it, like Farah Karim or Kate laswell. He saves people but he does it roughly, he never seems to handle civilians with kid gloves, and he’s kinda rough and detached from them. He’ll save your life, but he’ll probably break your arm in the process and definitely won’t apologize for it. It’s important to note he knows what he does is fucked up. He knows people don’t like it. He gives people a way out, lets them choose if they really want to fully jump in the mud with him. He also smokes cigars with car windows rolled up. Absolutely evil action. He’s also my favourite and I love him in a way that you love a grizzly bear.

Obligatory Kate mention. Kate is a cia agent who is basically the leash that keeps John from acting out too hard. She reins them in, keeps them informed. She’s level headed and a quick thinker. She knows how the game of war is played, when and how to play by and within the rules and keeps everyone from breaking them in ways that could spiral out of control. She also knows when to let them do shady shit, and how to get them out of the messes they get themselves into. She is a very strong character, mainly in mind but also in body, and will get her hands dirty if she has to.

TLDR these are deceptively complicated characters, as in, it’s easy to mistake them as pretty surface level. They’re also easy to mistake with their fanon characterizations, which while fun, are often headcanons that the fandom has taken and run with. They’re also, not always very accurate depictions of the characters. If you wanna write them right, you gotta watch and listen to their mission dialogue.

These are generally simplified introductions based on what I observed playing the games.

Tip and trick, if you’re writing a dialogue line, imagine the characters voice saying it out loud. Say it out loud yourself. If you can fully hear the character saying the line, it’s probably a great line. If you can’t picture them saying it, tweak it until you can. This helps me a lot.

Thank you :)

Also love the kate mention

[woncon]

☼ summer tales

once upon a time there was a hybrid, a demon, a merman, a vampire and a fairy who fell in love with you on one summer day.

☼five drabbles with each txt member and you

☼bunny hybrid!soobin, demon!yeonjun, merman!beomgyu, vampire!taehyun, fairy!kai

☼summer themes, fluff, kissing, cuddling, comfort

☼special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

☼finally, it's summer! i'll have more time to actually write & chill. 🥹

☼txt masterlist | main masterlist

SOOBIN

The carrot cocktail turned out terrible. Showered and changed, you're chilling in the coolest corner of your apartment, just like before you thought about making the refreshing drink, only with one more failure.

Soobin lifts his head from your belly, your fingers ceasing their movement in his hair as he looks at you with a sad, remorseful look, as if it's his fault that you can't handle the basic ingredients for a cocktail and the blender.

"You'll get it right another time. Don't feel bad about it," he gently nudges your wrist with his nose, then seeing you flash an unconvincing smile, he gets up so that your faces are at the same height.

"It happens to everyone." He strokes your face reassuringly. His voice is soft, kind and hopeful. You'd believe him if it weren't you, the mess of the kitchen.

"It's always likes this with me."

"You'll practice, and you'll get it right. It wasn't bad, by the way."

"What? You tasted it?"

"You made it for me, of course I tasted it. It was good."

"Carrot pieces floating in water..." You frown at the not very appetizing image in your mind.

"Shh," Soobin kisses you softly, then leans away with a smile, flashing his sweet bunny teeth. His lips taste like carrots, and you'd rather remember that later than the cocktail so you gently pull his fluffy ears, pulling him back to your lips.

YEONJUN

Yeonjun is having a great time in the sweltering heat. Where he comes from, thirty-four degrees is just pleasant weather. You, on the other hand, find it terrible.

"It's hot as hell!" You whine as you fan your stomach with the bottom of your leotard, your nose wrinkling into a grimace as the fabric sticks to your skin.

The boy stretches out on your bed and chuckles. You tilt your head in anger and resentment.

"Do you think this is funny? I'm dying!" You raise your arms to the sky, as if you're about to burst into flames and be consumed by your own body with self-magic, then stagger out of the room to get a glass of water with ice-cubes.

Yeonjun follows you, sneaking closer with deliberate, soft steps, and when you've finished your refreshing, cool sip then sigh, he decides it's time to wrap his hands around your waist and lean his forehead against the back of your head. You can feel the friction of your skin against his horns too.

"I'm sorry. You're just adorable when in despair."

"That's a very weird compliment." You groan and peel off his embracing arms. "And you're awfully hot."

"Sorry. I can't cool you down, only warm you up. But I'll run down to the store and get some ice cream, if that helps."

"Thank you!" You smile at the caring words, and press a kiss to the demon's cheek, indicating that your anger is only temporary, and that it's a very short period of time if he's out for ice cream for your sake.

BEOMGYU

Beomgyu is looking up at you with a demanding gaze, but you're closed-eyed, enjoying the sunshine in your bikini, dangling your feet in the pleasant water. He swims closer to you, his golden-yellow tail snaking softly. He rests her head on your thigh, webbed fingers gripping your naked calves.

"Swim with me!"

"Won't it be very cold? My skin's super warm..." You smile down at him uncertainly. Your shoulders shine in the light.

Beomgyu smiles, dives into the water, and returns a moment later with a butter-white twisted shell. He proudly brushes his hair out of his face. He fills his treasure with water, then asks your permission with a soft gaze.

"May I?"

You nod, lean down a little. The boy gently drenches your shoulder with the cooling water. You shiver as the drops trickle down your arm, but as the next little one hits your skin, you slowly get used to it.

Eventually you can plunge into the water without difficulty through the Beomgyu fountain. As soon as your shoulders touch the water, Beomgyu wraps you in his arms and happily rubs his nose against yours. He was looking forward to hugging you.

"Won't we swim?" You cling to his neck, caressing his skin gently. It wouldn't be bad if you guys stay like this, it'll be perfectly fine.

"We will. I'll carry you, just let me."

"Okay."

Beomgyu kisses you on the cheek. But instead of swimming he only cuddles you in one place, while his muscular tail slaps the water to keep you from sinking.

TAEHYUN

The blades of the little fan are spinning at max speed, you hold your face in front of it, trying to imagine that it's cool and it works, but in the end you always look longingly towards the closed door. You yearn for your boyfriend's embrace.

Whining, you turn off the machine, the paddles slow down, then stop with a sigh. It needs rest, and you need a good snuggle with Taehyun.

You open the door quietly, sneak into the completely darkened room and deftly dodge the clothes and other rubbish strewn on the floor to get to the bed. The boy lies on his side, hugging a pillow. His chest does not move. He is not breathing. It's not just like he's dead, he's literally dead.

You climb up onto the mattress, grab the cold wrist, take the pillow, then dive into his arms. Sliding his hand to your waist, you sigh happily at the pleasant sensation, for Taehyun's embrace of your warm body is like holding a refrigerator to your chest.

But unlike the fridge, Taehyun can hug you back, and kiss the tip of your nose, and caress your side. Right now he's squirming a little, gently stroking your waist under your shirt, making you shiver.

His red eyes squint dreamily at you.

"You feelin' hot?"

"And not just a little." You hug his waist, burying your head in his chest, where you hear nothing but your own breathing. “Do you feel it?”

Taehyun caresses your back and rests his chin on your head. His fingers brush softly against your artery.

"Your blood is a few degrees warmer than usual. But I'll cool you down, don't worry."

You giggle as he slips his leg over your thigh, wraps it all the way around you, and then lavishes you with sweet little kisses. He locks you in the coffin of his body, and there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

KAI

You are curled up on the recliner, disappointed. The cushions are soft under your hands, the wind whispers sweetly of summer, bringing the nostalgic scent of mown grass and the distant sound of a lawnmower. The sun shines pleasantly. It's your favorite season, yet you're so sad.

"I'm late," that's what you say to your boyfriend when he sits next to you and asks you what has got your ever-excited self this time of year.

"What are you late for?"

"The cherries. I remembered too late to check. It's completely gone bad, but it's so good to pick and eat!"

Kai gently strokes your arm. You lean gratefully on his shoulder and sigh. The boy studies you for a moment, looking off into the distance, then pats your back and stands up. As you look questioningly towards him, he flashes you a kind smile and promises to be right back.

He then walks to the cherry tree behind the house. He rests his palm on the trunk of the tree, feeling the pulsing life energy inside. He asks the plant not to store up all its energy for next year, but to harvest on this day. The tree is a bit reluctant, worried about how it will survive the winter and how much energy it will have to produce next summer, but the boy reassures it that he will take care of it. The tree doesn't want to say no to a fairy anyway, so eventually buds sprout on its branches, white flowers bloom, and juicy cherries dangle from the branches.

Kai smiles in satisfaction and goes back for you.

"Come, I want to show you something." He takes the slightly puzzled you by the arm and leads you to the back garden, where the sun is perfectly focusing on the cherry tree.

"But... Just now... How?" You can barely speak, blinking at the tree then the boy.

You don't understand how it is that, while you were being laughed at by withered, ugly witches, can now look at you with mature, red, laughing, alluring eyes.

"Summer miracle." Kai smiles and presses a kiss on your cheek, which is made cute by excitement and disbelief, and makes you forget to blush by the soft gesture. “So we pick cherries?”

You nod, and your boyfriend reaches for the basket propped up against the trunk, then tucks it into the crook of your elbow. You look gratefully at the boy who made this possible. You know he did it, even if you can't put your finger on how. What is certain is that Kai is special.

You saw his translucent wings one early morning.

[zachsbees]

Hi yes so I have a hanzo headcanon id like to share.

When hanzo first joins overwatch, for obvious reasons, most of the other members don’t trust him. Some more openly than others. But it’s something hanzo expected. Whether it hurts him or not, he understands. Maybe even respects them more for it, for their loyalty.

(And it does hurt. He probably doesn’t even realize that their coldness stings because of his own emotional constipation, a lack of understanding when it comes to his own feelings, but it damages all the same in its own quiet way)

I think it’d be Cole that’d be the one to make his distaste most known, sneering and passive aggressive. Genji is one of his closest friends; he got to see firsthand exactly how horrifically hanzo mutilated his own brother. Family is a sensitive topic for him. How could he ever even consider trusting a kin slayer?

Regardless, hanzo can handle their different flavors of distaste. It takes a lot more than some mean spirited words (and a particularly threatening warning from Cole) to break him. He’s not there for them anyway; he’s there for genji alone.

But I think Cole would end up taking it a step further into violent territory, maybe not even fully aware of it. Like. Maybe they’re sparring or something and things start getting a little too violent. Hanzo isn’t an idiot; he sees exactly what’s going on almost immediately. How cole’s face darkens with vengeful anger. How his blows become sharper, deadly intent growing with each miss. Cole is getting lost in his own anger— bubbling to the surface after a lifetime of stewing.

Because it’s not just about hanzo’s mistake. It’s about cole’s anger over losing the people he cares about. His own insecurity.

And hanzo? He isn’t about to let that shit fly. There is no honor is dying to a teammate in a petty brawl, or potentially getting each other killed during a mission over a grudge that leaks onto the battlefield.

Which is exactly what hanzo lays out, plainly, bluntly, and in much more sophisticated words than I can come up with. But this next line I thought up, this is important, the one that brought this idea to me in the first place:

“You will not steal my brother’s revenge from him. I will not allow it.”

And he’s deadly serious. Because the only person that hanzo would ever let kill him would be genji. Period. And he will wait for that day for the rest of his life.

Hanzo then proceeds to gracefully kick cole’s ass to the mat. Cole is talented, he was in blackwatch and trained under Gabriel after all, but he’s not as good as a man who’s been trained to be an assassin from birth.

The gunslinger has a bit more respect for hanzo after that, albeit begrudgingly.

(And if you wanna get yeehan with it, maybe he’s a little turned on too. I could see him being into someone who can kick his ass, and hanzo would certainly look gorgeous doing it)

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tommy is sick of being sat upon by some nut job he barely knows. It’s been days trapped under a Philza who doesn’t really register human words and mostly just coos whenever Tommy tries to cuss him out. Techno says it’s ‘cause Philza thinks he’s been hurt and needs to be protected, which like, yeah, fine sure, but not by Philza. Tommy already has a guardian. His abuser has to be insanely worried about him, especially after Philza assaulted him for no reason. But every time Tommy tries to escape he’s just dragged back and everything gets worse.

At least that part is familiar.

He’s forced to stay in that nest for days, and Tommy has never handled being cooped up well. Some part of him likes the weight of a parent roosting over him and the feeling of gentle hands combing through his wings and hair, but the overwhelming majority of his instincts just wants his abuser back. Techno is of absolutely no help, mostly since Philza keeps trying to murder him. But he sits in the corner and is open to chat, or read a book aloud to him to stave off some of the boredom. Best advice Techno has is that Philza will be normal again if he thinks his chick is safe and happy.

Hell no. Tommy is not feeding this guy’s delusions, especially when Techno reveals Tommy’s own feathers had been woven next to Philza’s in the nest long before Tommy’s abduction. A-grade creep behavior there. Besides, his abuser will come save him soon. Tommy is so acutely aware that he’ll never save himself.

But then it’s been days and he’s losing hope and just wants to go home, so desperately Tommy tries to figure out what Philza will register as a happy chick. Usually chirps just burst out of him, not something he controls at all, but with some struggle he forces out the little trill he made every time his abuser came home.

Something twists in Tommy’s chest as Philza echoes the joyful chirps at him. It feels horribly right, complete whereas with his abuser the greeting was never returned. That wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t an avian. Neither of them had known what was needed to soothe his instincts. 

But it works. Philza blinks rapidly, pupils returning to normal. His gaze locks on Tommy, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” Philza wraps him in a warm hug. Juuust great. He was hoping to leave after Philza got over it. All he wants is to get back to his abuser, but when he says as much the embrace becomes a vice. Tommy naturally rejects Philza’s awful claims, growing more and more desperate as his abuser is slandered. First the absurd claim he somehow stopped Tommy from flying, like it wasn’t because Tommy was too weak and small to. And then it’s after him for not providing proper shelter at their nest, even though his abuser was trying to teach him to be responsible when he had Tommy make his shack. Then the lack of healing supplies, then the fact he was dying alone when Philza found him.

“No, it’s my fault I tried to fly when he was gone! He was there for me every time I was injured! Shut up, I can too prove it. Hard not to be there when he caused it half the time!”

For some unknowable reason, Philza doesn’t take that well. Neither does Techno, even when Tommy tries to explain they’re misinterpreting what he said, really it was Tommy’s fault, mistakes and the natural punishment for his actions. When he argues it wasn’t bad, Techno brings up the injuries a bit too old to heal when he used the potions. They try to get in his head, voicing all the thoughts in Tommy’s head before he plummeted and proved his abuser right.

Thing is, Tommy has flown before. It’s been awhile, but he has, when he was younger, knew the wondrous taste of its joy. With L’Manburg he’d been careful to fly below the walls so he didn’t get shot down. And it wasn’t possible in Pogtopia. And then after…it just seemed pointless. And now he can’t at all, and the only reason he can find is because he doesn’t deserve that joy.

Unless it was taken from him. Just like everything else, Tommy finally admits. Wearing an avian’s feathers is meant to be a promise to support them as surely as their own wings, and yet his abuser clipped his. 

It’s hard, realizing he was only ever so weak because the man he trusted was sabotaging him the whole time. Twisting his instincts, forcing him to become a useless hatchling. Manipulating him so he could never fly to safety.

Tommy begins to sob.

Next>

[fuji09]

I've seen a lot of people call Stiles an asshole and yeah he can be. I've seen people say he doesn't care about anyone unless it's the few in his friend group. I don't think that's the case. I've seen him called a bad friend and while he does have moments of not being a good friend, for the most part he is the best friend.

Stiles has a lot of trauma responses but right now I'm gonna talk about how he keeps everyone at arms length. He isn't trying to be an ass (at least not all the time), it's not that he doesn't give a shit about anyone, and it's not that he is a asshole but he acts like an asshole.

When some of us lose someone we love in a traumatic way, we don't want to feel that pain ever again. We hurt and can't handle the thought of feeling this type of pain again. I'm guilty of this.

So what does Stiles do? He keeps everyone at arms length, never lets someone completely in. Not Scott his best friend and not even his own dad. He distances himself as best as he can without seeming like that's what he's doing. He overshares and talks about anything and everything without getting too personal but no one notices because what he does say is loud.

He's sarcastic and jokes about everything. He insults and treats people like they are stupid. Does he mean it? Not always, probably sometimes. He tends to be all talk, unless it's something incredibly important. He will say every man for himself but he never means it. He acts like people are disposable but he doesn't mean it.

That boy is afraid to get too close to anyone so he hides parts of himself from everyone, even his own dad. He's paranoid about his dad dying but he still doesn't let his dad in completely.

He can seem cold, but he has a warm heart, he can be blunt, but he also knows that sometimes he can't be. He does make mistakes, we all do. Stiles does his hardest to prevent people from worrying about himself, while he worries about his friends.

Not everything he says or does is logical. Trauma responses aren't logical but they sure seem like they are.

But yeah those are my thoughts on Stiles and his trauma response.

[cozzzynook]

Since we are diving into the angst. I have come offering another angsty idea.

Optimus and Rodimus are having an intense argument with each other while Bee and Cliff are trying to calm them down.

It gets pretty heated and messy until it suddenly stops when Optimus yells something he shouldn't have. It even shocks Bee and Cliff who look at their Carrier with horror while Roddy runs off trying not to cry.

Ooooooooh!!!!

I can see this argument happening when he’s hot rod and its hot rod calling Optimus out on his own personal beliefs holding him back from taking Megatron out. He tells him if he can’t handle the thought of Megatron dying or taking him out even after all this he needs to allow someone who will.

Hot rod argues how its dangerous to let him live when the mech starts coming after Bee and Cliff, the mechs own sparkling twins he sired before the war started, and that Optimus needs to get a clue because the mech very well could offline or brain wash them to do unspeakable things.

Optimus tells him continually to stop but Hot rod does not because he’s right and they all know it but Optimus doesn’t want to hear it and he doesn’t want this conversation happening in front of Bee or Cliff.

Hot rod fumes for a moment and then growls with his fists balled up and his teenage emotive neurons are firing up because he just wants Optimus to listen to him for once and not think he’s just being a youngling or brash or doesn’t know a chip from a bolt for once.

“Slaggit! Carrier! Please! Don’t let my brothers die by that aft hole who abandoned us! He’s not the mech we once knew! He doesn’t love any of us anymore! Please! Don’t get yourself or them killed because he will do it and he won’t think twice about it! Stop being a stubborn prime and leader and be our fragging carrier again just this once please!”

“Shut up, Hot rod! Stop saying things you know nothing about and stay in your place! Do not speak to your commanding officer that way and do not speak on my love for my sparklings nor the love of my sparklings sire when you never had one to begin with! Don’t question my love for my family you meddling mistake!”

And that…

He can never take that back..

He knows he’s messed up the moment he hears it, the moment he sees Bee’s outstretched servo and horrified expression. The way Cliffjumper looks accosted, the way Hot rods spark stops for a moment and how optics run tears without his permission.

He knows.

He knows.

He knows.

He knows!

Hot rod’s sob and gasp that can’t be suppressed shatters him and when he turns running out the door.

He doesn’t immediately go after him.

Bee does. Cliff glares at him.

And he knows.

Primus he knows….

He’s almost down on his knees when he collapses but instincts kick in. Instincts he’s long ignored when Hot rod was involved. Those Instincts push him forward and he’s running out into the night looking for red and yellow.

He comes home many days later, caked in grime and with his antenna down and two sparklings who refuse to look at him.

They go to Ratchets where he promptly gets a call from the medic saying he’s keeping the sparklings for a while and his conjunx Deadlock went looking for Hot rod but couldn’t find him.

…he doesn’t see his sparkling for a long long time after that and the next time he does, he’s no longer Hot rod but Rodimus.

Rodimus prime.

His baby died.

Died at the servos of megatron who shot and killed him through the spark.

The mech who once helped him carry his bitty shot him straight through the spark and didn’t care to tell him or get him help.

The matrix saved Hot rod. No. Rodimus. The matrix saved Rodimus.

His bitty.

The bitty who warned him of this happening and he didn’t listen because he couldn’t handle that possibility.

And that exact outcome did happen..and where was he?

Nowhere near his sparkling to help or save him.

Because he didn’t know where he was or if he was alive and its all his fault.

His bitty…

Who looks and speaks to him as if he doesn’t know him as more than an officer and prime.

He gets a shake of servos before Rodimus is off talking to someone else.

And all he can do is stare and silently cry.

Rodimus doesn’t look back and he Doesn’t say a thing else to him.

[billys-pretty-babe]

Traumatic for all Parties

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy is left to babysit Max, he sends her away with Steve for a day and invites you over.

Warnings : Swearing, almost smut?, Max is traumatized, quick mention of someone dying

Word count : 917

He let you inside as you noted the truck wasn't in the driveway. "Where's Neil?" Billy took the cigarette from his lips, "California with Susan, someone to her is apparently dying," he said as he shrugged, shutting the door behind you.

You nodded and took your jacket off, hanging it up as you followed him to the couch. "Where's Max?" He shrugged, "Left her with Harrington, see how good he really is at babysitting." You laughed and nodded, reaching for his face and he smiled before planting his lips on yours, leaning you back as he deepened the kiss.

You bit his lower lip, pulling a groan from his throat as he squeezed your hip. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips and he rubbed it from your lip. "Come on, I rented a movie. We'll fuck later, I got a new mattress to test out." You laughed and he pulled you up before you laid your head on his short-clad thighs and he hummed and messaged your scalp as the movie began.

Anytime there was a jump scare, you'd jump while Billy would flex his thighs under your head, making you rub your thighs together. Halfway through the movie, you got bored. "Billy." He hummed, eyes glued to the tv. "Wanna make out?" He looked at you and laughed. "Horror movies really do it for you, huh?" You rolled your eyes.

"No, I'm bored. Movie kinda sucks." He nodded, "Yeah it does, no wonder it was so cheap to rent. He pulled you up so you were straddling his lap and he smiled at you. "You're so fucking beautiful." You smiled and thanked him before leaning in and kissing him, your fingers immediately seeking purchase in his hair as his hands went down to your waist, one going inside of your shirt, placing his hand on your belly.

You hummed at the warmth of his hand, moving your hips against his, gently tugging on his hair and he groaned, tightening his grip on you. He tugged your shirt a little, "Can I take this off," he asked as he pulled away from you. You nodded and he quickly stripped your shirt off, leaving you in a lacy bra.

He looked at it for a brief second before quickly pulling your lips back to his. The speed of the kiss picked up quickly as he tried to take your jeans off, having already popped open the button and pulling the zipper down. He put his hands in the back of them, grabbing onto your ass.

Maybe you guys were too caught up, maybe your senses were just filled with each other or maybe, Billy made the mistake of giving Max his house key. You didn't hear her come in until she screamed. "Oh my God!" She covered her eyes, nearly running into the wall as she tried to run away.

"Billy, I think we just traumatized, Max." He snickered and put his own shirt back on before zipping your pants back up and buttoning them. He put your shirt back on for you. "Come on, let's go talk to her, make sure she's not drowning herself in bleach." You laughed and nodded and followed him to her room.

"Hey, shirt bird. Open the door." She opened the door and the two of you walked inside. She sat on her bed, her magazines open. "So, when mommies and daddies really love each other." You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. "Don't listen to him, Max. We're sorry that you walked in on us like that." Billy grumbled, "I'm not sorry that we were doing that."

You looked at him and he put his hands up, leaving the room to let you handle the situation. "You okay?" She nodded, "At least he wasn't naked, I think I'd run into oncoming traffic." The two of you giggled and you opened your arms and she hugged you tightly. "Where do you get your bras from?" You laughed at her, "I don't know, your brother gets them for me." She gagged and you both laughed.

"You're not scarred for life are you?" She laughed and shook her head, "I've heard my mom and Neil having sex through the wall." You scrunched your face, "Gross, okay, didn't need to know that." She laughed.

Billy leaned against the door frame, "Don't tell my dad that you saw us, okay?" Max nodded, "I won't, I promise but in return, I do require you to go pick us all up pizza," she said, smiling at him widely. He rolled his eyes, "Fine, give me my key back." She handed it back to him. "I'll stay here with her." He nodded and left the house.

"Me and Lucas never do that." You looked at her, "Cause you guys are young, making out is like a whole other step that you don't need to be worried about right now." She nodded, putting her magazines away before laying on her bed. "I also heard you and Billy once, El heard you guys too." Your jaw dropped.

"Is that why she says happy screams when she sees us?" Max laughed and nodded, nearly rolling off of her bed. "I explained to her that he wasn't hurting you and they were happy screams." Your head dropped into your hands as she laughed.

Soon, Billy came back with the pizzas and the three of you sat on the couch, you in-between them as he restarted the movie.

[savage-rhi]

Wesker: Chris, really. Ask yourself a question. Even if you do manage to kill me, and destroy umbrella, what do you think you’ll really accomplish in the long run? Do you think BOW’s will end with us? That my ambitions will end with me?

Chris had seen his share of many hells. Being backstabbed by Wesker at the Mansion was one, and almost losing Jill to him was another. He spent a great deal of time healing, years of work repairing the emotional damages that had been done to him, and now he was tied up back to back with the son of a bitch himself.

The whole affair was stupid. Chris admitted to himself that he and Wesker had been too cocky for their own good, enough to where the deuteragonist on his mission was able to slip them a fast one. He couldn't believe he had fallen prey to his vengeance, not realizing who the more dangerous enemy had been this whole time.

Wesker cleared his throat, ignoring the blood that ran down his head. "Redfield, how are you faring? You've been too quiet."

"I was doing just fine until you spoke." Chris sighed, grunting as the rope around his waist tightened. He ignored the chuckle that escaped from his nemesis.

"Our mutual friend sure saw you coming."

"No, no," Chris corrected, growling under his breath. "He saw you coming. We wouldn't be in this mess if you weren't involved in the first place."

"And we wouldn't be tied up right now if you kept your nose out of people's business," Wesker said as a matter of fact. "We've both made our mistakes, Chris. Now the question is, what will we do about it?"

"I'd prefer nothing because it beats working alongside you." Chris spat.

"You'd choose death so easily?"

"Not unless I could kill you after I'm untied."

"Chris, really?" Wesker sighed and winced when he felt Chris struggle against the rope, keeping them locked together. "Ask yourself this question. Even if you manage to kill me and destroy Umbrella, what will you accomplish in the long run? Do you think BOWs will end with us, that my ambitions will end with me?"

"I'm hopeful, but I'm not naive. I know killing you won't solve the problem at large," Chris countered, furrowing his brows as sweat and blood trickled down his lips. "But it would make me feel much better knowing there's one less bastard like you running around."

"Finally, something we have in common," Wesker smirked. "I know killing you won't stop your fellow Boy Scouts from trying to meddle with my affairs, but I could sleep easier."

"Touching," Chris muttered. "So what's your grand plan to make it happen? Neither of us will get what we want if tied up."

Wesker raised a brow, turning his head to the left to catch a small glimpse of Chris's face. "I thought you'd rather die than work together?"

Chris's shoulders tensed, knowing Wesker had him there, and he couldn't admit it. "Just enlighten me."

"Huh," Wesker hummed in thought before he grinned. "I never thought you'd ask. Well, in that case, I think we need to play to our weaknesses."

"Come again?"

"The stab wound you gave me," Wesker bitterly mentioned, biting in the side of his lip before continuing. "I'm not dying, but our friend doesn't know that. If you can handle the weight, I can play dead. His lackeys are bound to see that on the cameras and come rushing. Remember, we're both no good to him if killed. You and I will strike once the enemy is lured into a false sense of security. Then we can continue our personal grievances elsewhere unless, of course, you'd prefer working with me for a bit longer to take down our friend who tied us up in the first place."

Chris mulled over Wesker's words for a moment. In the grand scheme of things, the idea was stupid, but he did have a point. Their lives were both worth something to their adversary. They could only enter negotiations with the BSAA if Chris were alive, and they couldn't access the classified BOW documents in the facility without Wesker's brains at the helm.

"Y'know," Chris swallowed, letting out a laugh. "Playing dead is probably one of the most sane things you've suggested."

Wesker scoffed, shaking his head before he grinned. "I see we agree with the plan then."

"Let's get this over with," Chris whispered. He braced himself as Wesker went through the motions, feigning he had lost consciousness. Chris fell to his knees as Wesker became limp, letting out a pained grunt. Sure enough, as Wesker foretold, the sound of quick feet came marching in their direction, soldiers barking orders, worried that one of their captives was deceased.

Son of a bitch was right...Chris shook his head. Wesker had put him through many hells, but this one time in silence, he'd admit this was ingenious.

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[markantonys]

"Rand's misguided chivalry is a central flaw of his character. If you remove it from his character in the show he's not the same character anymore." I have seen this argument few times about Rand and I have never understood it and strongly disagree. I always felt that his central flaw was believing he has to do everything alone. And his chivalry as it's depicted in the books simply wouldn't work with how show Rand has been characterized thus far.

Like, show Rand actually respects women as individuals whereas book Rand puts them on pedestals (I love him but it's true). I am curious how the show is gonna handle his conflict with the Maidens cause I can't see show Rand forbidding them from fighting cause they're women. The only thing I can think of that the show might do is he's hurt when they in particular die cause they're all he has left of his birth mom cause she was a Maiden.

100% agreement! imo many readers mistake "X is a big thing in the books" for "X is an important thing in the books" (though of course, we all have our own personal opinions on what is important or not based on our own individual interpretations of the story, so MY opinions on what's important or not are hardly right all the time either!). is misguided chivalry a big thing with rand in the books? yes. but does it affect the story or his character development in a significant way? i'd argue it doesn't, in the sense that the same narrative purposes can be accomplished by making his attitudes gender-neutral. if you change "rand has a problem with women dying for him" to "rand has a problem with anyone dying for him", or "rand wants to protect women" to "rand wants to protect everyone", or "rand/LTT is traumatized by his murder of his wife" to "rand/LTT is traumatized by his murder of his whole family", that doesn't alter the core of his story & character. the core of rand is someone who's so afraid of and guilty about hurting the people around him that he pushes them away and tries to carry all his burdens alone; there's no narrative need for him to have a specific hangup about women getting hurt, and that core doesn't change if that hangup is removed.

plus, multiple male characters share the same hangup about women getting hurt. how can misguided chivalry be soooo central to Rand Specifically when mat and perrin also suffer from it? when practically every society in WOTworld is set up to keep women from being soldiers or participating in situations where they might be harmed? even the aiel & seanchan place restrictions on what women are allowed to be warriors (only the unmarried & childless, because as soon as you become a man's wife or a child's mother your most important duty is now staying alive and safe For Them; meanwhile husbands and fathers have 0 restrictions from being warriors in any WOTworld society). imo it was much more of an internal cultural bias on RJ's part than it was a specific character choice for rand and rand alone (which is not a knock on RJ; all storytellers have their own internal biases that they bring to their stories, it's human nature! but not all of those biases are required for the story to work, and it's also human nature for adaptors to replace the original creator's biases with their own.)

it's also worth noting that the show is being made in a different time than the books. no matter what some readers think, a story being told in a different time HAS to be altered to better suit the audience of that time. we're supposed to sympathize with rand, but most viewers in the 2020s would find his benevolent misogyny irritating and frustrating, and it would turn them off of his character and make them find it difficult to understand or sympathize with his actions or his trauma. as someone who came into WOT brand-new in the 2020s, i had absolutely ZERO sympathy for any of rand's moaning about Must Protect The Women and all of that stuff accomplished nothing besides making me want to bang his head against a wall (i still love him though lmao). it was genuinely detrimental to the pain i was supposed to feel from rand's arc because i kept getting annoyed instead of sad! and i would be FAR from the only brand-new-to-WOT-in-the-2020s person to feel that way if the show had included that angle. for example, rand struggling to hurt lanfear ~because she's a woman~ and moiraine "dying" as a result would have 2020s audiences screaming at him for being a fucking moron, and a sexist fucking moron to boot. rand struggling to hurt lanfear because he's wrestling with extremely complicated feelings for Her Specifically due to the situationship she manipulated him into and moiraine "dying" as a result will be a hell of a lot more sympathetic to 2020s audiences and will allow the genuine tragedy of that moment to come across.

that's really what adaptation in a different time is all about: look at the intended emotional effect of a scene in the original work, and alter the scene as needed in order to inspire the same emotional effect in these different times. because 1990s audiences are different from 2020s audiences and sometimes it takes different methods to give them the same emotional reaction.

as for the maidens, in addition to your reasoning, it'd be super easy to simply say "the maidens are the sub-group among all rand's armies that he feels emotionally closest to, hence their deaths hit him the hardest." there's a really familial relationship that develops there - of course rand would be cut up when members of his Found Family die! there's no reason it needs to be related to the maidens being women. rand's behavior with them would change 0%, it would only be the motive behind that behavior that's different (different and far less annoying, and thus more moving and emotionally impactful).

[perpetualexistence]

Total Drama Fic Rec Week Day 3: AUs

*rubs hands together maniacally* Oh boy do I have a bunch of AU fics to recommend to you folks. I'm a sucker for a good AU if you couldn't tell by my own. There's also some horror/darker fics becuase I do love when the teens are put through The Horrors. I've separated the non-horror from the horror for those who aren't as big of fans as I of the genre.

Face the Sun (and Fall) by Noah_about_it: An Alenoah superhero fic where Noah is a vigilante trying to hide his identity despite working for one of the city's most prominent superhero couples. It's got assistant Noah, Chref dads, and Team E-scope. Also a cool variety of powersets. What more could you want?

Shoot Your Local Celebrity! by butterflyclipped: An Alenoah fic where Noah is an aspiring screenwriter forced to be Chris' assistant to make ends meet while Alejandro is a rising celebrity who got signed onto a buddy cop movie he hates with his only reprieve being the assistant of the actor he hates the most. Has a lot of Bojack Horseman vibes in the best possible way. It's only two chapters and hasn't updated in so very long, but I still enjoyed it and highly recommend it.

Total Drama Kingdoms and why Noah hates royals by QuestionableLasagna: A fantasy Alenoah fic where Noah is a wizard handling all the behind the scenes of a fantasy reality show that Prince Alejandro happens to be taking part. These two butt heads in the most glorious of ways, and it's fun to discover what fantasy creature each cast member is! There's also mystery in both Alejandro AND Noah's backstories, so that's a treat.

The Horrors

Death Cast by Nocopops: A really good Island of the Slaughtered fic that goes over each of the deaths, and then the experiences of each of the survivors. Does a really good job of making them all feel like teenagers who just made horrible mistakes due to their circumstances. Also, it's finished! Which isn't a thing you can say about a lot of IOTS fics. This was one of the fics that helped me segue into the Total Drama fandom when my love for it was rekindled thanks to IOTS, so it's got a special place in my heart.

Despair Island by Knifez: This one's an oldie, like was made in 2014 classic. It's a TDI AU where getting eliminated from the show means getting killed. All these teenagers are on edge for some fairly obvious reasons, and that tension carries throughout the fic. There are moments of OOC-ness, but most of which can be explained by the situation, or by the author. Though uh, I will say that if you're a Cody fan, I don't think this fic is for you. You'll see what I mean by the first chapter. He doesn't get better.

Total Drama World Tour: Massacre by Pearl_Islands7: A more modern fic based on Despair Island. Same premise of teens dying if they get eliminated, though with the spin that it's during World Tour. It's juicy in a different way to have the characters know each other already and still have to choose who gets to live/die. There's also a twist that a couple of teens will randomly be allowed to live, and Chris experiencing hauntings from the eliminated teens.

@totaldramaficrecweek

[haileylnmt]

The Outsiders Death Headcanons + Shepards & Others

—————

As I said in my other post, this is my other version of the outsiders deaths including the Shepards, Angela, Evie, and maybe other if I can think of them

—————

Ponyboy Michael Curtis-52yrs

While the trauma of his two friends’ deaths always lingered in his subconscious he persevered moved away from Tulsa to start a family of his own and pursue the career of his dreams. However, that didn’t mean his smoking habits had stopped. He ended up passing too soon due to lung cancer.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis-21yrs

Got drafted to Vietnam for a couple years and actually returned home. He was never them same afterwards with PTSD always preventing him from living normally. He lived with Darry in the last few years of his life before getting into the medicine cabinet with a bottle of whiskey one afternoon when Darry was gone.

Darrel “Darry” Shayne Curtis-59yrs

Darry always went above and beyond for his friends, family and job. He did the absolute most and always over exerted himself. During a hot summer afternoon he had a stroke while insisting on finishing one final job

John “Johnny” Andrew Cade-16yrs

While saving the lives of children in a burning church fire, he sustained life threatening injuries. He later died in the hospital not regretting any of his choices- even if he wished to live a little longer.

Dallas “Dally” Tucker Winston-17yrs

The overall grief that struck him after losing the only person he truly loved was too much to bear. He pointed an unloaded gun at the police to entice them to fire at him. He died as a result of the shots he sustained.

Steve Jacob Randle-34yrs

He was finally able to escape his reputation as a greaser and was able to find himself in a position he found himself happy with. He became a mechanic for the United States Navy. His life was taken too soon during a freak accident.

Keith “Two-Bit” David Matthews-52yrs

He left Tulsa as a means to better himself. He began a family lived as happily as he could. Never truly giving up his taste for alcohol, kidney failure ending up taking his life.

Tim Shepard-22yrs

Never living down his title as a greaser or a gang leader, he always found himself in less than legal situations. Caught in the crossfire he sustained a bullet wound that ended up getting infected and took his life.

Carlos “Curly” Shepard-19yrs

Like his older brother, he never lived down his reputation. He developed a taste for drugs. A bad dealing caused a series of events that led to unsanitary handling of needles. That mistake cost his life

Angela Shepard-39yrs

Turning away from the greaser life, she found herself leaving her whole life in Tulsa behind- including her brothers. She moved up north, never settling down until one night when unexpected heart failure took her in her sleep.

OR——

73yrs

After leaving behind all she once knew, she started fresh and began a new life for herself outside of who she used to be. Old age took her peacefully in her sleep

Syliva-21yrs

She developed a love for alcohol and drugs after tragically losing her boyfriend. She ended up dying of a coke overdose alone in her room.

OR——

32yrs

After attempting to turn her life around, she married a man who she had hardly known. They got in a car accident which took her life.

Evie-54yrs

She stayed with Steve until his early demise. Despite the pain and grief she felt, she pushed on. A heart attack took her life.

—————

Are these any better(probably not) anyways I’m not really able to see these guys living a long healthy life considering what they did when they were young

[leohtttbriar]

one day i'll make a whole obnoxious powerpoint (with the checkerboard transition effects obvs) that's a thematic comparison/contrast-ion between jadzia dax and odo and what they mean but for now i'm thinking again about "children of time" and the way odo and dax were framed as like the only possible actors in a impossible-to-act situation. it was odo or dax, who would let the potential closed-loop lives of a colony of people be rendered materially forgotten. and the more i think about it the more convinced i am that, actually, dax wouldn't have ever chosen differently. it had to be odo.

they're refracted versions of the other---defined by a multiplicity, which they understand and handle in different ways. where dax (who has been accused of frivolity the whole season by her upright buddy worf) can't see beyond the agony of her own selfishness, odo just does. he does what he thinks he is obligated to do based on his own individually-mandated moral rectitude. he is solipsistic in the way all of the changelings are for they can be anything and are also all each other and that is certain. but he loves kira, who is similar but solipsistically fastened to the world, thru a faith in fate, so he can just...selfishly act in a way she couldn't. and tbh the morality of the selfishness is up for grabs, too, bc kira "selflessly" choosing to die is also a condemnation for everyone else so like. odo's lawful/strict-desire sure does help them out of jam. and dax isn't about to step on anyone even if perhaps there should be some stepping. she is "conviction-less." but.

in a way. the show argues, while not really making the argument, that: dax's mistake is sourced in its own obligations. what's the point of anything if you're not going to risk it for sweet victory-biscuit? to risk something to get the details on some (potentially smart) maybe-fungus? to take a magic-carpet ride? to extract the dino-dna from the amber? to be curious? is that not also a carefully considered rectitude? is that not a justice--that, if one has the power to witness what exists, however weird, however potentially useless, then they possess a simple fealty, sworn to lord universe, as vassals made up of sensory powers, to continue witnessing? like "this planet is here and is therefore interesting and i seek glory thru it yay" and now she is presented with lives upon lives who absolutely need her--who existentially need her perpetual attention. as her curiosity dooms, her own version of personal law chooses for her too: odo and kira are sure of their own minds. dax is sure of everything else outside herself (or within herself but within a worm--the boundaries are fuzzy) and swears to it, quite a lot.

so like. where odo and dax agree about the value of a proto-universe, they disagree here. odo is like: "thou shall not kill. it is written." so he can just. unwrite a reality that is utterly dependent upon those that are not children of time, but freely moving amongst it. citizens, for instance, of the real. he breaks nothing bc the kira-dying reality is what is broken to begin with. also he's like. super in love. and dax is like: "phenomena! there it is! things that exist! in my hands and my choices, phenomena! you can't make me be god about it :(" and then her future self which is still technically her tries to be god about it and then ultimately doesn't. so.

what's really funny about all this is later when odo is fully on board with kira just throwing herself off a cliff bc of "fate," dax is in the background with miles coming up with scientific eviction papers for super-dimensional aliens. odo just accepts a law in contradiction to his own (he is large!) and dax is like "what even do we have to do with this" and "i think living is a lot more attractive." bc. the point is. they are foils.