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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick.

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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st0rmyskies · 7 months ago

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What Your Favorite Link Says About You

A.k.a. The Links as tarot cards/your rising sign/your blood type.

Time

You're likely an older Zelda fan. Ibuprofen has become a food group for you. Anyone who thinks OoT isn't the greatest Zelda game has you clutching your pearls and tutting. Kids these days don't know how good they have it.

You are a person to whom young people come for advice, either in your career or in life in general. You're happy to give it, especially because you love to help, but on the inside you're silently screaming, What?? Why me???

You may have trouble sleeping through the night. Even if it's not every night, there are some where you just can't turn your brain off and worries or worst-case scenarios just keep playing and replaying ad nauseaum.

You enjoy time in solitude to appreciate the beauty of nature. I bet you know how to braid a mean daisy crown.

“The flow of time is always cruel...” - Some event in your life took your innocence from you, perhaps much too early. You grew up quickly because of it.

Legend

Either you had a crush on the emo kid in high school or you were the emo kid in high school.

You might be jaded by the world, but you still have a solid work ethic and a soft heart despite it all. Even if you hide it all beneath a healthy layer of sass.

You possess a multitude of skills, not all of which are related. Anytime a friend needs a piece of clothing mended or a picture frame hung on the wall or a leak in a faucet addressed, you have the tools and the willingness to help.

Either you have a history of moving frequently when you were young, or you have a restless spirit. You may never quite feel 'at home' in any given place.

"But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end." - You’ve suffered a meaningful loss in your life and you have a hard time opening up again because of it.

Hyrule

You root for the underdog, or perhaps you are the underdog. Any of those "against all odds" stories just hit you square in the chest.

Somewhat quiet by nature, you do vital work behind the scenes but you aren't the type to seek out a leadership position. Leave the limelight to somebody else, please.

You might sell yourself short when it comes to your skills and abilities, but you should believe in yourself, man! You can do it!!

You have a capricious streak in you that rears its head now and again. That smile can look sharp and devilish in the right light.

"It's dangerous to go alone!" - You either already have or are destined to find 'that one person' with whom you can open up and truly be yourself.

Twilight

I'm willing to put money on the fact that Twilight Princess was your first Zelda game.

You have a strong sense of justice and get really bent out of shape when you encounter unfairness or flaw in the system, whatever that may be. You might be considered an outsider in some way because of this.

You're the friend who scoops spiders up in a cup and sets them outside. Live and let live.

You were the 'wolf kid' in middle school. Come on, those amazing tie dye shirts? Wolf Woman? Julie of the Wolves?? Even if you kept it inside, it was there in some way.

"Your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero's tunic you wear." - You put a lot of stock in the opinions of others and hold yourself to a higher standard because of it. Sometimes that standard isn't achievable, though, so try to be kind to yourself.

Sky

You, my friend, have a soft heart. You're generally a happy-go-lucky sort of person. You're likely to make excuses for those who've been mean to you in the past and come out as friends on the other side.

You're crafty, or at the very least good with your hands. You're the type to give someone a handmade gift rather than go buy something for them for their birthday, a holiday, etc.

You have a strong affinity for your friends. If anything bad were to happen to them, you'd turn violent at the drop of a hat.

You may have some level of chronic illness that affects you. Although you might do things in a different way or at your own pace, though, you still come out on top.

"You fight like no man or demon I have ever known." - You have the capability for great things. World-changing sorts of things. Don't give up!

Wild

You're some flavor of neurodivergent, if I had to guess I'd say ADHD. You have 42 tabs open in your brain at any given time and you have no idea which one the music is coming from.

You're an incredibly creative person, although you might have trouble finishing tasks/works-in-progress. Doesn't mean you didn't learn something along the way!

Rigid guidelines or deadlines stress you out. You'd rather be given a goal and decide for yourself when and how to get there. When you do have a deadline, you're a bit of a procrastinator.

Sometimes you don’t get the 'right' way to do things, but you carve your own path--although sometimes it's unorthodox--and get there in your own time.

"Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten." - In spite of how your life changes you, for better or for worse, you have a driving inspiration or ethic or vocation that moves you forward at all costs.

Warriors

Those who don't know you well tend to boil you down to one or two trite traits. In reality, you contain multitudes. Most people couldn't handle all of you, not that they deserve to know even part of you.

You tend to lay it on thick--be that your charm, attitude, or whatever else your social shield might be--because you're hiding some deeper secret or insecurity at your core.

You're the mom friend or the planner in your group, or perhaps you're the oldest child. You’ll pass on an authority role if and when you can, but likely you’re still involved in some supervisory capacity in a given situation.

You kill spiders with fire. Show NO mercy.

"You dare raise the blade of evil's bane to me? So be it. Hyrule's blood will be on your hands." - You have strong convictions and you aren't afraid to take risks, major risks, to do what you know to be right.

Four

Babe, if you ain't short, you've got short person energy. You scare me a little bit tbh.

You were praised for not being a problem child growing up, or for being very responsible at a young age.

You have a vivid imagination! You may have had an imaginary friend as a child or lived in your own little world altogether. I bet your notebook pages were strewn with little doodles in school.

You're a lover of information. If you could choose between an afternoon at the library or a movie matinee, it would be the former.

"Hanging around with you fools is dangerous for my health." - You're the snark friend, aren't you.

Wind

You are extroverted to a fault. You need the company of others to recharge that social battery. The quintessential golden retriever friend.

You had active involvement in the music and theatre department. I'd be surprised if you weren't in at least one show in high school.

Having adventures is where it's at! You're a big fan of travel, either cross-country road trips or international flights. You could happily live out of a suitcase.

You tend to make friends easily wherever you go. If everyone in this classroom/workplace/bar doesn't know your name already, they will pretty quick.

"I have been waiting for you, boy... Do not betray my expectations.” - Against all odds, you've proven yourself to be worthy of great things. Screw what fate has in store! You're the type to take your own destiny by the 'nads.

#stormy talks #what your fav link says about you #that dissertation i mentioned #loz #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #twilight princess #skyward sword #breath of the wild #tears of the kingdom #hyrule warriors #zelda #a link to the past #four swords #minish cap #majora's mask #link's awakening #windwaker #i am definitely forgetting a few

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starryinkart · 1 year ago

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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)

Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I don’t think I’ve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao 🤣

Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!😓

{Colorless Lines Below!!}

Headcannons for them below too!!!

———————

Some headcannons in the show universe cause I’m feeling fun:

- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!

- Catnap doesn’t talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.

- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking people’s heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.

- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.

-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.

- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.

- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.

- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didn’t belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.

- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!

- Kickin doesn’t really like or trust Catnap much, and doesn’t try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.

- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.

- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.

- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. He’s tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think he’s acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.

———————

If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didn’t forget, things have just been busy!!

ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend 👀👀👀 Perhaps some angst or something fun?

#poppy playtime #smilling critters #poppy playtime smiling critters #poppy playtime catnap #catnap #DogDay #artists on tumblr #digital art #fan art #dog day #kickinchicken #craftycorn #hoppy hopscotch #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #picky piggy #PoppyPlaycareAU #< that is what this AU is called for now #starryinkartwork

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shnoob · 2 months ago

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Kurapika Kurta HC’s:

A/N: FINALLY ONTO HXH!! I have been wanting to do this for a LONG time but life got in the way, which it will again this week but I'm very excited to get this out there!

C/W: Has both fluff and angst!

Leave any suggestions if you want to see something specific!

Fluff:

Is one of THE best people to ask about making bracelets or anything crafty related. Due to his exterior, he seems like somebody who wouldn't care about it (in for his goals he doesn’t do them often) but back at the village, he would teach all the little kids how.

Speaking of the village he also is probably really good about braiding hair or doing other people's hair. I can see him back then being an older figure to all the kids in the village so being that figure comes with responsibilities!!

If you need to know any definition or any historical facts, he is your man. You’ve seen him read those books, he’s educated!! Not only does he do it for fun (and probably used those skills for the Spiders-), but for the exam to go out into the real world he found some research on the history of the outside world to get him at least some sort of idea what he was stepping into.

Would 100% correct you if you spelled/or pronounced something wrong. If that ends up being verbal or just in his head? Depends on his mood. 9/10 it's in his head but catch him in a bad mood and he won't hesitate to mummer it under his breath.

Yes, he is very stand-offish due to his life/profession BUT I like to believe that deep down he is a really good listener and will pay attention. I mean we can see it first season!! Sure he may not say anything once it gets to the point where he’s in York New but he does retain the information said to him and just leaves it on the back burner.

Back on the crafty gig, he knows how to crochet and knit. Instead of buying bookmarkers to not lose his place in his book, he makes his own (when he has the time anyway).

One of the neatest people known to mankind. Although he doesn't get the time to do it, having a clean environment makes him happy and makes him focus better. If not in a clean environment such as his room, I feel like it stresses him out to where he needs to get up and put some stuff away before he can lay down and then stress about the Spiders.

Tea drinker!! Drinks coffee but doesn't like the taste of it. LOVESS a tea that tastes more fruity <3.

LOVES nicknames. Giving or receiving them deep down means something to him. Especially after you give one to him, if you don't use it he’ll wonder why and get a bit disheartened :(.

The biggest gentlemen around! Holds doors for people, always says thank you and excuse me when moving around, biggest tipper etc. An “angel from above” is the words you’d hear people using for him from strangers. It has come to the point where if he enters a coffee shop he often goes to they already know and get in such a good mood.

Loves birds!! As a side hobby he has a collection of pictures of birds he’s taken over the years. With that, he has definitely learned some bird calls and will not hesitate to show somebody the difference between them.

(is in love with Leorio I swear!!)

Angst:

When he was younger, the color red was something that was noted as a good thing, and due to his clan he was so confident in his eyes. Now he cant bare to look into the mirror somedays just because of his eyes.

With the color red, he cant stand the thought of it being his favorite color. He probably doesn't even have one after everything due to how attached he was to red and now that attachment is unhealthy.

Seriously doesn't take care of himself. Like at all. As much as I love the fluff he wouldn't know what a healthy life looks like anymore.

Has so much survivor's guilt (which this one is obvious but to the point where it hurts).

A lot of people say that he doesnt care about his friends bu he definitely does. In fact I say that he lives in a detachment type style. Due to his deep rage and focus it makes him feel that being away from everybody he cares about is the right thing to do because he cant let anybody else get hurt and theres no time to be doing things he enjoys most. By this though, he feels those surges of guilt by not keeping in touch; but now its been so long without talking to them the guilt of going back is so deep he cant bare to face them.

When he cries most of the time he doesnt even realize. His brain just shuts down to where it doesnt register that he is upset and needs to take a minute. It doesnt help that half of the time tears dont even fall, so its just a emotional block.

Will never be able to commit to a romantic situation but still dreams of it :(.

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maintitle · 3 months ago

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I want to talk a little bit about the Morrigan/Mythal situation, because I've seen a lot of people talk about how Morrigan chose Mythal and chose that power and therefore this is her life and her ultimate evolution and generally just dismissing what happens to her after Mythal rejoins her as a natural evolution of the character, girlboss, ect. I don't want to be dismissive of that take because it can be one that is easily taken without reflection, but I do think it terribly misunderstands the nature of Flemeth and Morrigan's relationship and the methods by which she was very carefully raised.

So let's talk about Morrigan, how she was groomed and abused, and the training she took great pride in that was ultimately weaponized against her by design. Let's also talk about the great pains the game goes through in order to sidestep these issues, and by doing so leaving a much better story on the cutting room floor in order to make a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that misses the depth of their relationship entirely.

I'd like to say at the jump that the fusion of Morrigan and Mythal isn't a story I'm resistant too. I assumed this was the direction they would go and I truly think there was some fascinating storytelling to be had that expanded upon the themes already present in both. But I also think the Veilguard writers either misunderstand the exact nature of how Morrigan was raised, or needed to ignore it in order for Morrigan to serve as a vessel for Mythal in order to serve Solas' story (an issue I have with her use in this game in general, but that's for another post.)

The most revealing conversation that I think Morrigan has in regards to Flemeth is actually one that occurs very early in Origins. I think it's juxtaposition with other scenes is important;

Morrigan: "My Mother has been hunted from time to time, yes. My Templar fools like Alistair, which should tell you how successful they generally were. Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact. The Templars would come again and she would look at me and smile and say that the fun was to begin once more."

Warden: "You really had no trouble with them?

Morrigan: "I am unsure. I was too young to understand, and perhaps 'twas bravado on Flemeth's part. Or perhaps she was merely amused. I will never know. Flemeth would warn them, once. 'Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed." Morrigan: "And then the true game began. Often Flemeth would use me as bait." She giggles in amusement. "A little girl to scream, and run, and lure the templars deeper into the wilds and to their doom."

Warden: "Flemeth used you as bait?"

Morrigan: "'Twas a game, and I a young girl. If I didn't get to play, I would have been very upset."

This is a really important example, not just of how callously Morrigan was trained to kill when she was challenged at such a young age, but also because it exemplifies how Flemeth taught her. There's an assumption that Flemeth simply yelled and screamed at Morrigan her entire childhood, and that was true in places, but Flemeth was very crafty in how she presented the lessons that she felt were necessary for Morrigan to have.

A bit further into the conversation;

Warden: "Do you still think it was fun?" Morrigan: "I think that my Mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear. And I think it was necessary."

Interestingly, if you don't agree with this assessment, Morrigan ends the conversation very suddenly.

The point of highlighting both of these conversations isn't necessarily to outline the casual and cruel abuse, but instead to show how sinister Flemeth's teaching methods were. She treated a child with kindness and the warmness of a friend or Mother when it suited the needs of Morrigan's lessons, but when she broke out and did something that would endanger those teachings, she violently lashed out, as is evident with the mirror scene.

These juxtapositions are important when you look at who Morrigan becomes as an adult, and why she's sent away during the Blight at all. As we know, it was Flemeth's plan all along for Morrigan to offer the ritual before the battle with the Archdemon, but Morrigan posits that it's now her making those decisions and not her Mother. This is highlighted by the line;

Morrigan: "Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will."

If we jump ahead a bit to Inquisition, this thought process is expanded on a lot more, in a lot more detail, highlighting the philosophy in Mythal's temple;

Morrigan: "There is... a danger to the natural order. Legends walked Thedas once, things of might and wonder. Their passing has left us all the lesser. Corypheus would squander the ancient power of the well. I would have it restored"

Inquisitor: "I wasn't expecting your answer to be so... romantic."

Morrigan: "Trust me. Your surprise is matched only by my own." Sigh. "Mankind blunders through the world, crushing what it does not understand: Elves, dragons, magic... the list is endless. We must stem the tide or be left with nothing more than the mundane. This I know to be true."

On a surface level, this can be seen as an evolution of who she was in Origins and what she believed then. I can see how that mistake might be made, and I can see how that thought process can lead to accidentally mistaking Veilguard's reply to it as being that same evolution. But if we look at the Dark Ritual, we see this is an opinion based within the philosphy she was always taught by Flemeth.

In order to expand on that, we can actually look to the comics, in the little-explored character of Yavana, sister of Morrigan.

I want to stress first we don't TRULY know much about Yavana. History implies she's a figure out of Antivan legend going back multiple ages, but it's sort of impossible to know if that's true or if it's even her and not a previous Witch Of The Wilds, or even a previous host of Mythal. I hesitate, therefor, to truly assume what her relationship with her Mother was like, however I will very carefully put forward that, based on what little dialogue we have of her, she may be a 'failed' daughter of Flemeth that Mythal deemed unworthy, as she knows about Mythal inhabiting her daughters, see's it as Flemeth does, and seems somewhere between disapointed and jealous in the fact that Morrigan seems to misunderstand that. (I'm not really here to run back the whole Origins possession versus Inquisition's and now Veilguard's 'a soul is not hefted on the unwilling, because frankly it doesn't really weigh in on the point being made here as much as you'd suspect, as you'll see.) But this assumption is questionable, and might be both wrong and not relevant to the issue, if perhaps fairly telling.

What we DO know about her for certain is that she was raised by Flemeth, and at some point moved to Antiva in order to nurture and preserve the return of Dragons to Thedas. Her actual wording of this point, I think, is so telling of FleMythal as a character that I almost wish it wasn't hidden away in the comics;

This is, nearly verbatim, the same message Morrigan gives both in short in Origins before the Dark Ritual, and in much more detail in the Temple Of Mythal in Inquisition. I also find Alistair's response to this INCREDIBLY telling, as one of Alistair's great talents is seeing through people;

While I think the phrasing is very purposefully dismissive and flippant, I don't think the sentiment is totally off base. It actually leads me into the entire thesis of this post, and an aspect of this relationship that some fans and even writers seem to blatantly miss;

The preservation of the old magic is not Morrigan's dream. The preservation of magic is what Morrigan was raised to value most in the world by her abuser.

To illustrate this, let's look at Morrigan's arc in Inquisition, and what it's actually saying about her and Flemythal; The cycle of abuse.

Mythal's Temple is a story about Morrigan and the folly of pride, certainly, but it's also a character arc of a woman who was very carefully raised to HAVE that pride. This isn't an assumption I have made based on evidence, Flemeth outright says it in DA2;

Hawke: "Is (Morrigan) someone I should know?" Flemeth: "She's a girl who thinks she knows what is what better than I, or anyone." Chuckle. "And why not? I raised her to be as she is. I cannot expect her to be less!"

This is, to be, the smoking gun of Flemeth's entire method of teaching and parenting. She is incredibly adept at training flaws into her daughters, pride being the greatest of them. More than that, she's very talented at imparting just enough knowledge that they think they know everything, while also holding back vast amounts of it in order to stay in control.

The Temple Of Mythal is one of the crowning achievements of that. While you can't exactly expect Mythal to have known that's where Morrigan would end up (although Morrigan certainly questions if she knew it would happen), it really hardly matters if she knew or not. Morrigan was raised from birth in order to make the exact decision she made at the Temple. The preservation of what might be lost is such a core part of her being that she can't escape it... and more than that, she can't fathom it being a negative trait. To her, it's a holy calling.

I'm going to pull out the most direct conversation of abuse Morrigan documents now, not to pile on more evidence, but instead because I think it's a more effective conversation to use as juxtaposition of why she thinks that than I could make myself;

Leliana: They say your mother is Flemeth, a witch of the Korcari Wilds. Morrigan: They also say that washing your feet in winter makes you catch cold in the head, but we all know that is not true. But sometimes they are right and they are right in this. Leliana: You know the stories about-- Morrigan: Of course. You think my mother would let me go without telling me all the stories of her youth? Leliana: My mother told me stories too. She was the one who kindled my love of the old tales and legends. Morrigan: Hmph. my mother's stories curdled my blood and haunted my dreams. No little girl wants to hear about the Wilder men her mother took to her bed, using them till they were spent, then killing them. No little girl wants to be told that this is also expected of her, once she comes of age. Leliana: I... uh... I see. Morrigan: No, you don't. You really don't.

This is the environment Morrigan grew up in. She was exposed to Flemeth taking advantage of men, she was exposed to gruesome murder both as a game and in casual moments. Any attempt she made to take self-possession or grow as a person was aggressively curtailed and broken. This was a girl so afraid of her home life that, for many years, she spent as much time as she could living amongst the animals of the forest, and escaping her home life.

Now, imagine; This same abusive woman gives you positive reinforcement. You're a child, and you crave that attention like any child would of their Mother, and you know that reinforcement comes when you're an attentive and talented student. The closest you ever are with your Mother is when you're taking in everything she has to teach you, so it becomes the center of your life. Soon, it's not just a method by which to be close to your Mother, but a core tenant in your life. They stay with you as a fascination, as something you take pride in, as a holy crusade even as you escape your abuser and move on into a happier version of your life where you've grown and matured, where you've seemingly broken the cycle.

Now, imagine the discovery that those few, core, good memories you have were horribly tainted. The lessons you were taught were cyclical, a method by which to control you and gather that which she needs. Your life goal, your career, your passion was entirely made in order to benefit the abuser you've run from your entire life. Imagine who devastating that would be.

That's what happened at the Temple Of Mythal. That was the pride that Flemeth trained into Morrigan, the path by which she wanted her to evolve. She seized that opportunity, and that opportunity either tied her to her abuser forever, and/or told her abuser where she and her son was after years of protecting him from her.

Everything you know, everything you are, everything you've protected... is based on a lie.

Morrigan's character arc in Inquisition is her breaking that cycle. 'What Pride Had Wrought' is in reference at least partially to Morrigan's personal journey, where that pride, that passion, is something she recklessly seizes on because to her it is good and right and just and hers by nature, and it is that pride that was so ingrained into her by her abuser that she watches tear her son away from her and into the hands of said abuser.

In that moment, when she's faced by everything that her pride could lose her, she is forced to reckon with everything she has ever believed, and in the face of her greatest fear... she chooses to break the cycle of abuse. She chooses to assure that her son is safe.

The most obvious quote to be in this write-up;

Flemythal: "As you wish. Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never interfere with or harm you again. Or, keep the lad with you... and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due." Morrigan: "He returns with me." Flemythal: "Decided so quickly?" Morrigan: "Do whatever you wish. Take over my body now, if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the Mother you were to me."

This is obviously Morrigan's most famous line, but I actually am not sure if folks understand the truth depth of it; This is not only breaking the cycle of abuse and freeing her son of it, but she's also going against every natural instinct that was bred into her. This woman, the girl that was raised to lure men to their deaths for fun, who's most crucial life lesson was to do anything in order to survive... accepts she will never be safe again. She accepts the possibility of constant danger just to keep her son safe a day longer, a sacrifice her Mother would have never made for her.

This was a possible full culmination of her story. And Veilguard... sort of ignores the meaning of it by giving undo attention to Flemeth's head tilt.

I want to take a moment to preface this next section by saying that I was in no way resistant to the idea of Morrigan being possessed by Mythal in Veilguard. I in fact expected it and was excited by the possibility. There was a really brilliant way to handle the situation even within the parameters of how the game handled it, but the developers chose instead to dismiss this situation in a few lines so that they could instead focus on Mythal, and her relationship with Solas.

I don't want to outright insult the writers here. Veilguard was a game I greatly enjoyed. But I do want to say this because I find it deeply regressive, and I also find the decisions that were made were a symptom of this issue; Morrigan is not in Veilguard for her own character. Morrigan is in Veilguard because she is a convenient vessel through which to explore a character that has much more importance to the main antagonist. This is already slightly regressive because it's two characters largely only serving the plot of one male character, but I find it most troubling because the character they use her for is her own abuser, and by paying as little attention to that as possible while also barely using Morrigan herself as a character, it creates a very tepid story of parental forgiveness that... doesn't work as presented.

From her scene in the Crossroads after finding all of Solas' regrets;

Morrigan: "When I learned she intended me to become the next receptacle of an ancient god's soul, I feared naught would be left of my own. It inevitably came to pass on a deep night: I was awakened by the presence of a blaze of magic in the shape of a woman who both was, and was not, my Mother."

Rook: "I don't think I'd recover from that."

Morrigan: "Neither did I, at the start. Mythal's memories were both gift and burden, this blazing woman told me, but I must accept them of my own accord. The decision was paralyzing. What would it mean to become such a host? What would be lost if I refused? In the end, 'twas something in my Mother's voice which guided me."

Rook: "What was that?"

Morrigan: "Regret. Not the regret of a God, but of a Mother who knew she would never see me again. And so my mind remains my own. What I gained was knowledge... both Mythal's, and of those who bore her."

I think you can see where the problem lies, but let me reiterate:

Morrigan was a child of abuse. That abuse was calculated, both in how she treated her aggressively and how she gave her affection. Her methods of teaching, of raising a child, were there entirely to teach that child to continue on the legacy of Mythal. The preservation of magic was imbued very carefully into Morrigan and Yavana both in order to gather and save aspects of the ancient elves, and in order to prepare them to carry Mythal's soul. Pride was a weakness trained into them from childhood, and their lofty goal of protecting ancient magic was a weapon to be wielded in order to control them. This was a cycle Morrigan first discovered in Inquisition and began to fight against, because she wanted to break the cycle of abuse for the sake of her son.

In this game, Morrigan took on the memories of Flemythal... in order to preserve ancient magic that must be protected so that it is not lost. An instinct given to her by her Mother... in order to be used as a weapon... so that one day she would take on the soul of Mythal.

I want to be clear, I am not opposed to this storyline. I'm not going to yell 'That's problematic, you can't write that!' or 'That's a regression of her character!' because I think it's a fascinating direction to take both their characters.

The problem to me isn't that they went down this pretty natural path, the problem is they did it by... sidestepping any negative parts of how this would affect Morrigan. They sidestepped the fact that the reason she accepted her was largely because of something that Flemythal trained into her and weaponized against her, and the writing treats it as... a difficult moment that eventually brought her peace.

I think this is most exemplified in the aspect of Mythal's soul that remains in the Crossroads. As a concept some are saying it's arbitrary considering how Flemythal saved herself inside of an amulet in Origins/DA2, but I think that's lacks context. It's clear Mythal couldn't prepare this time, because she didn't expect Solas to murder her. Her soul, while saving itself, fractured into pieces. I'm definitely willing to defend that choice.

The problem, I think, is more that the fracturing is seemingly mostly used as a way to sidestep how Mythal's soul fully joining Morrigan would change this scenario. Morrigan's ultimate fear was becoming one with the soul of Mythal, so in order to avoid that they've attempted to only give Morrigan the memories of Flemythal while also seemingly leaving her unchanged as a character.

My issue with this thought process, first and foremost, is that it prevents them from exploring a much better story that has the chance of presenting a much better payoff as a story of an abused child coming to terms with her Mother. It removes the chance of Morrigan's possession being a major character arc, one that would further what she went through in Inquisition while also offering Flemythal a pathway toward an understanding with her daughter so that that ending could still be explored, in order to get to where they want to truly get to as fast as possible, which is using Morrigan as an agent for Mythal's forgiveness in order to fulfill Solas' character arc.

Imagine a more fleshed out version of this story, one where Morrigan had more of a presence within it. Over time, as you discover more about Mythal out through those flashbacks, you begin to realize something is... off about Morrigan. Her unique way of talking has slowly changed, her more sarcastic and poetic tone drips away in favor of Flemythal's more loose, jovial, sometimes playful but always pointed and aggressive tone. The player is prepared to pick up on that, but Rook isn't. Things eventually come to a head where Mythal has to reveal herself, likely as an aggressor similar to how she's handled in the Crossroads, and Morrigan is actually allowed to exist within this presentation. She sneaks through occasionally. The magic of the crossroads allows her moments of clear headedness. She reflects that she accepted her Mother's soul out of that fear, and that it's begun to change her, that she's scared of what she's losing, and even more frightened of how she's coming to understand her Mother. Conflict occurs and if you've reached Morrigan, she fights against Mythal's influence and regains control enough to fracture them just enough to have to come head-to-head, where you can guide them through decades of conflict to a mutual understanding or forgiveness through this bond they have, help Morrigan fully overcome Mythal, or help Mythal dominate Morrigan. Ideally, you'd have the ability to either remove Mythal's essence from Morrigan forcefully with an 'I reject you!' scene, or you can have your moment of forgiveness where the Flemeth side of Mythal removes herself from Morrigan, perhaps into the idol you use for Solas at the end.

But that's not what they did. What they chose to do, I think, is to sidestep a difficult issue, a problem this game does tend to have. I'm not entirely sure if they didn't quite grasp Morrigan's relationship with her Mother, or felt they were forced to gloss over it either because of the world state issue or their need to use Mythal, but the decision they came to is not an acceptable payoff to that story.

The truth of the matter is, this version of the stories' either inability to explore this issue in full or it's misunderstanding of it greatly hurts the characterization and misses a massive chance at more impactful storytelling. And that, to me, is the most damning creative decision of the entire game.

#this post brought to you by seeing a few too many posts about how this is an appropriate end for her #and one specifically that conflated complaints against it to be male morrigan romances as if a romance has anything to do with the issue #This isn't really a story and the warden or their romance and it only tangentially has to do with Kieran #the core of this issue is how it dismissed her abuse #but more importantly glosses over it rather than using it as the core of a better story #anyway if you reply with 'oh but morrigan is a natural liar so--' i will bite your ear off thanks <3 #Morrigan #Yavana #Flemeth #Mythal #Femythal #Origins #Dragon Age: Origins #DA:O #DA2 #Dragon Age 2 #Inquisition #Dragon Age: Inquisition #DA:I #Veilguard #The Veilguard #Dragon Age: The Veilguard #Dragon Age: Veilguard #DA:V #DA:Ve #DA:TV #Veilguard Spoilers #The Veilguard Spoilers #Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers #Dragon Age: Veilguard Spoilers

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rentenwins · 4 months ago

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silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)

masterlist link | next chapter

synopsis: a nervous leehan and a supportive sungho. if he thinks he was obvious before, there’s definitely no hiding now

content: NERVOUS AND FLUSTERED AND ANNOYED LEEHAN, mild cussing, banter, jaehyun is that one friend, sungho is… yeah, food/drink mention, someone give leehan a hug?, a nudge from a friend, insecurities mention(?)

a/n: …. hi? second year uni really is doing a number on me, especially on writer’s block apparently. took me a while to be happy with this, but i hope a few of you are still following along :( take care of yourself everyone <3

wc: 1898

taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19 @luvvhaerin @saritahwang

chapter 5: who’s there?

Leehan had started walking from the art block after dropping you off at class, definitely not with a thumping heart and a giddy feeling in his chest, when his phone vibrates enthusiastically in his pocket, he picks it up to see Sungho’s contact in his text messages.

“Bro, please tell me it worked.”

He had started walking near the cafe Sungho had ditched you and Leehan earlier. Leehan sends a non-chalant “...” to Sungho as he continues walking, earbuds with music blasting trying to calm his heart.

God, he felt like he made a fool of himself, and thought that he was being way too obvious. I mean walking your crush to class? Who does that? Leehan never had much with his crushes, to be honest. Sure he was friendly and everything, but sometimes he felt like he was too friendly, it deterred his crushes away from him. Even if it was because of the crafty work of Taesan and Sungho, his alone-time with you made his feelings harder to ignore. He liked your presence, he liked your determination and passion for your work, he liked how you showed interest in his degree and his hobbies. God, what else could the fluttering feelings in his chest be? And so subconsciously he had felt the need to be closer to you.

As he continued to spiral, a persistent buzz came from his phone this time. He sighs when he sees it’s Sungho again, probably eager to know what the hell happened after he set up you two. Leehan rejects his incoming call, puts his phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode before he makes a mental note to go to the grocery store, just so he could do something with his jittery self.

—

An impromptu trip to the grocery calmed Leehan’s mind, maybe a bit too much since his arms were almost straining from the weight of the bags, and he wondered what kind of sorcery allowed the bags to still be intact as he made it to his apartment complex.

He’s only been at the apartment for a month, time flies especially with uni. It was starting to feel all familiar now. The spring months coming to an end meant the sun was starting to set a little later, it wasn’t dark when he reached his floor, but it was the weird period of the sun still wanting to wane for just an hour longer.

He’s also made himself quite the chef since he’s moved, and turns out eggs seem to be the most versatile regardless of breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Except, he’s forgotten to buy eggs on this trip. Because apparently making a fool of himself today once wasn’t enough, he’s had to do it a second time.

Getting over himself, he calls Sungho on his phone. Despite the foolishness of the other boy, Leehan always seemed to approach Sungho first whenever he needed something.

“Leehan?” comes Sungho’s voice, a little raspy from an obvious nap he probably woke him up from, “so you finally decided to call! Tell me, did you hol—“

“Do you have any eggs?”

The line goes silent before Sungho wheezes into the speaker,

“Bro, you woke me up from my wonderful nap, may I add, to ask me for some eggs? After you ignored aaaalll of my messages after you dropped off y/—“

“Do you?” Leehan cuts him off again, about to slap the boy across the face through the phone.

Sungho sighs, admitting defeat and knowing he’ll need to pry information out of Leehan another time, “Fine. I do but unless you wanna walk by, I really don’t wanna walk right now. And plus, you’re at the other side of the building on the floor below me, do I really look like the type to be bo—“

“I’m literally just asking for eggs, I’m begging you to be normal for once. Please.”

Sungho annoyingly giggles again before he diverts the conversation to its intended point. “You know there’s someone right across from you who’s more than happy to help? Y/n’s probably already come back from class, she always got eggs from all of that stuff she bakes all the time. Some kind of ‘therapy’ she says or whatever it was.”

Leehan hates that Sungho is right, and plus walking to Sungho’s seems absolutely treacherous with the pain of walking home from the grocery store and the annoyingness of his friend from today.

“Fine, fine! If it means I get to see your stupid face just one less time today.” Leehan almost shouts onto his phone speaker.

“Ohoho! You wanna play with me right now? Come at me you son of a—“ and Leehan hangs up before Sungho could finish.

Leehan feels a weird wave of confidence as he walks to his door with the intention to walk to your door.

“Eggs. It’s just eggs. God, Leehan, get over yourself.” He pep talks to himself. He doesn’t walk too far before he’s ringing your doorbell, distancing yourself from the camera on the door’s lock. The door opens with a little scuffle as you emerge from inside,

“Leehan? Oh— Leehan! What’s up? Can I help you?”

Leehan freezes when he sees your form. It’s your same outfit from earlier, but your hair was up and out of your face. Tired but still had that glimmer he so lo— liked about your appearance.

“Eggs.”

You blink at him. “… Eggs?”

Leehan coughs and clears his throat, “Sorry! Sorry, I meant, do you have eggs? I, uh, went to the store earlier but I forgot some so I was hoping… I could ask for some from you?” He says in one breath.

Your head was tilted to the side as he spoke and your eyes widened. “Oh! Yeah! Of course, of course let me just get the—“

“Yo, who’s there?” Leehan hears a voice coming from inside of your apartment along with footsteps getting closer to him.

“It’s just Leehan!” You shout back and you look back at the boy at your door, “I’ll be back, how many you need? Two?” Leehan nods as you swiftly turn back into your apartment.

Leehan peers to the left of the door a little to see the inside, the entrance of your apartment was similar to his. His gaze was suddenly disturbed when Jaehyun popped out of nowhere.

“Leehan? What are you doing here? Wanna study with us?” Jaehyun says while teasingly pointing at Leehan at the doorway. Leehan’s head does a 180 when he realises Jaehyun… was in your apartment… just you two… alone—

“Study? But you’re in economics and y/n’s in interior, why would you be helping her study?” Leehan blurts out before he could think.

Jaehyun laughs a bit while he crosses his arms, all comfy in his white hoodie, “Well, apparently, interior design requires some calculus unit, so I’ve been helping out y/n in exchange for dinner every week.”

“Every week?”

“Every week.” Jaehyun nods, wiggly eyebrows and everything until it clicks in Leehan’s head and he smacks Jaehyun’s arm in a pout Jaehyun’s seen right through Leehan’s blatant jealousy.

Jaehyun fakes his pain with a groan and a dramatic turn over his shoulder. You magically appear behind Jaehyun with four eggs in a cut out of its own carton. After throwing Jaehyun a glance, he straightens up and moves out of your way.

“Here you go. I got you some extra so you can have more before you get to go to the store. Did you need more?” You say as you hand Leehan the eggs, and he replies with a small ‘no’ and a shake of his head.

If someone had told Leehan this morning that he’d be standing in front of his crush’s door with four eggs in a cut out of its own carton, he’d probably believe you with how foolishly smitten he is with you. You cough, albeit a little awkwardly,

“Oh and uh, thank you for dropping me off at class earlier,” you start to fiddle with the edge of your pullover, “and for the chai latte!”

Leehan gapes a little too long at you again before he clears his throat, “Oh, of course! You’re welcome! I’m happy to do it again, walk you to class and whatnot.”

How sweet of him, you thought. “Aw, no chai lattes this time though?” You tease Leehan.

“I mean, if you’d like. I don’t mind that either.” He says with a smile, looking into your eyes. Your eyes for a half a beat longer, your eyes widening in surprise. Just when I thought he couldn’t get sweeter—

“Well- thank you again, y/n,” Leehan stutters out, “ I hope you uh, your studying goes well tonight then. But don’t stay up too long! Rest is important too.”

A giggle escapes your mouth before you could stop it, “Thank you, Leehan. Hope you enjoy your night, and no need to pay me back for them or anything.” You gesture to the eggs you had given him.

Honestly, if Leehan had talked to you for another minute, he would’ve dropped all the eggs. Though if that actually happened, he probably would’ve moved out and lived in some foreign country forever in an attempt to shroud his embarrassing crush on you. But thankfully, Leehan makes it to his apartment across the floor even with shaky legs.

Though this time, he doesn’t drop any eggs, so he thanks you again and says a small ‘bye’ behind you. It hits you at that moment that Jaehyun probably witnessed the whole exchange. You turn to see Jaehyun gaping at you, his glasses only adding onto the already-stupid look on his face. He starts to laugh,

“Oh my god, you should’ve SEEN the way his smile dropped when he realised i was here!” Jaehyun manages to wheeze in between laughs, “God, it looked like he wanted to smack me into oblivion. I did NOT know he was the jealous type.”

He continues to laugh as you walk past him with an annoyed look on your face, though internally you hope Leehan wasn’t actually too offended by Jaehyun’s presence. You sit back down on the floor in your living room behind your coffee table, Jaehyun follows suit. Even with the distraction of Leehan and his flowy brown hair, you get back to studying for your mid-term test.

Meanwhile, Leehan makes a dinner omelette for himself, sitting at his small dining table staring at his aquarium, counting how many more times can he really make a fool of himself in front of you again. He stabs his fork a bit too hard on his plate, and groans at himself.

It’s not that he doesn’t want you to know he likes you, or that he wants you next to him all the time. He’s not the best at reading people either, what if it was his delusions thinking that you liked him back too? Not with a weird, awkward man like him. With a heavy reluctance, he picks up his phone and texts Sungho’s number, this time actually with some will.

“I think I screwed up” he types. Almost immediately after he sends Sungho a message, his phone rings and he jumps a little.

“Leehan.”

“Sungho.”

“What did you do?”

Leehan bites his lip. He needed to get over himself some point or another.

“Y/n. I think I like her.”

next chapter.

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mirensiart · 4 months ago

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Hey Miry what are some fun (or maybe angsty) headcanons you have for the boys, including Chain?

Hmmmm 🤔 ok let me think

Sky: I know most people headcanon Warriors as the field medic, but I feel Sky is also versed in first aids and is really good at it, he has excellent bedside manner. Like the knight academy probably taught him all about it, so the 3 medics of the gang are warriors, hyrule and him. I also believe he has an impeccable stitch technique, like barely leaves scars at all. Really dexterous with his hands too, thanks to his wood crafting and harp playing, he's really good with them hands lmao.

Four: he's a blacksmith sure, and knows a lot about making weapons and maintaining them, but I like to believe he's also really good and making stuff out of leather. Like he knows how to make leather belts and pouches for the weapons his grandpa makes or leather clothes as protection in battle. Idk just a very crafty little guy that offers the entire deal aka a weapon and the leather belts to carry it, all in one service hehe

Time: I like to believe he lost his eye in a very mundane non heroic way, like maybe he fell off a rowdy horse and landed in the worst way possible or a farm centric accident. He makes up different stories about how he lost it, every time someone asks, he changes it, some stories are batshit insane and some others are super normal. He actually has told the real way he lost the eye in between the fake stories, but no one believes him. He thinks it's hilarious btw.

Twilight: I've mentioned before that I headcanon him to be a very sensitive guy, like small things can make him tear up aka a baby animal absolutely makes him want to start sobbing lmao. I like to believe he gossips and talks a lot with his epona as wolfie, like when you're in wolf form in twilight princess you can talk to animals and epona is so sweet with him when you talk to her, they are soulmates man. The guys do something dumb and he turns into wolfie just to walk to epona like "can u believe those guys??" Epona knows everything tbh like he tells her everything, she's the only one who truly knows his woes over losing midna.

Wind: I love to believe the little guy can legit control the winds, like the wind waker is a way for him to channel his magic, but he can control the wind unconsciously, too. When he gets really mad, the winds pick up speeds around him, or if he's happy, a gentle breeze circles around him, etc. His hair is always blowing in the breeze even when he's inside doors, and there's no wind. It just does that.

Legend: Excellent gardener, has a talent for growing plants, flowers, and trees. They flourish under his care. Extremely particular about soil and water and shadow/light for his plants, he not only has an apple orchard, but also grows veggies and rare flowers. Ravio maintains his garden under extreme rules and guidelines lmao ravio is not allowed to sell the apples or veggies from legend's garden, but legend encourages rav to use them for cooking instead.

Hyrule: disney princess aka animals love him lmao typical guy who befriends every single creature he meets, he could pacify a bear if he wants to. His fae part is what makes him have such an affinity with nature in general, I see him as the elves from LOTR who can feel and communicate with trees and they guide him. It's why he never uses maps, he doesn't need them.

Wild: using LOTR as my base for headcanons again lol but I see him like aragorn in the sense that aragorn is a human who was raised by elves so he feels a strong connection to elf culture because of it. I picture wild to be the same, but with the zoras, since he was childhood friends with mipha, we can imply he spent A LOT of time in zora's domain as a child. He is way more versed in zora customs, language, holidays, etc, than the hylian ones. It's also why I feel the older zora are so pissed off with him in botw, like they saw him as one of their own for so long, utter betrayal that he didn't protect their princess (mipha) and failed them all lol he has some zora mannerism in the sense that sometimes, he eats fish raw LMAO when he absentmindedly ate one in front of everyone the first time everyone was shocked for a while lmao

Warriors: absolute nervous wreck, always riddled with anxiety, really low self-esteem, is probably screaming 24/7 inside his head at all times, but is EXCEPTIONAL at faking it, like fake it til you make it is his way of life lmao he exudes over confidence and is always worried about his looks as a way to hide how much of a mess he truly is. Time & Wind has seen him at his worst and know that he's a great actor, which helps him cause he can stop pretending around them for a while

And now my link lmao

Chain: All bark, no bite. He is ironic and sarcastic and shows himself as a tough guy, but he's actually a sweetheart, and things get to him pretty easily. He learned pretty early on than carrying his heart on his sleeve is a really bad idea around the Bounty Hunter guild, since soft nice guys don't last long, so he replies to hurtful comments with sarcasm and a tough attitude, when in reality he's really hurt lmao he also jokes to cope, he'd rather throw a joke or two at you than really open up and talk about his feelings.

#miry's ask box #lu headcanons #+ chain #though if he is my character is he really a headcanon 🤔#more like canon then right hehe

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smilingcrittersthingig · 10 months ago

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I have been thinking of that AU where all critters but Catnap and Dogday were reborn.

I feel like some additional characters would be needed to give the Reborns the therapy they needed.

And I cannot help but imagine Cartoon Bubba having parents who are well renowned psychologist, then I imagined cartoon Catnap's family would be dream walkers.

God the urge to make another fanfic where it’s Dogday and Catnap going on an adventure to find someone who can help fix their friends while they drag the others with them…

Dogday: Let’s go find Mr. Therapist Tarantula! *raises his hands in the air*

Catnap: *raises his fist as well*

Meanwhile Kickin refuses to leave because it might be dangerous out there,

Bubba doesn’t want to be in a road trip with Picky,

Picky also doesn’t wanna go because she’s afraid she might eat somebody on the way but she also doesn’t want to stay with Bubba or Kickin cause of guilt,

Hoppy wants to join but is scared of the risks,

And Crafty and Bobby would actually come along willingly because Crafty doesn’t want to end up murdering someone again and Bobby wants everyone to be okay like pre-HoJ

GOD THE URGE—

#smiling critters #smiling critters au #reborn critters au

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shinning-whammy · 11 months ago

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heretic

For this AU, all the critters believe in the prototype, but few begin to doubt. Dogday, as the leader, tries to help his friends, sometimes with ideas about escaping to find more food for the other levels, but Catnap and the prototype do not allow it. So, Catnap always stops them from sabotaging the plans for all of them.

Catnap and Dogday are very good friends and they sleep together in one place. Dogday knows about the prototype but only saw it once, which was enough for him to believe it exists. However, he starts to doubt with the years about the actions he takes for them.

To protect Dogday from each action his friends make, Catnap gives him "therapy" with the red mist, making Dogday not know if the punishment his friends receive from Catnap is a nightmare or if it really happened.

Each time a critter disappears, Catnap always tells Dogday they abandoned him, but Dogday has nightmares about seeing them die by Catnap. Since he never finds the bodies, he thinks they really escaped.

Catnap does not like the other critters but allows them to be there while helping and following orders from the prototype, something Crafty and Piggy will do.

The other critters die as the signs in the game explain.

Dogday will believe in the prototype's actions for 9 years. Each time he loses a friend, he starts to doubt it, but he wants to keep his friendship with Catnap. At the same time, he tries to understand why he still believes in it while starting to doubt.

Each time Dogday has a "therapy" session with the red smoke that leaves him out for 4 days, making him sleep all day, only waking up to eat or drink water, only to fall asleep again. Catnap always watches him in that state while giving Dogday's chores to the others until he recovers. When that happens, they are forbidden to talk about the friends he started to lose.

Dogday and Catnap will have a friendship for about 9 years. The last year is when dogday decide to help Bobby to escape, and she does it, causing Dogday to be punished with the red smoke, giving him nightmares all the time. This makes Dogday start to hate the prototype and makes his hate for Catnap grow, leading him to end up in jail where he sees how his last friend, Piggy, dies.

Piggy will tell the truth to Dogday about how she cooked their friends and gave the food to everyone because they were hungry, especially her. But since she needed more and more food, the prototype decided sacrifices needed to be made.

This happened a few months before the player appeared, causing Catnap to try to convince Dogday to believe again, especially because he missed their friendship and did not want to be alone. But Dogday now says no all the time, leading to punishment and being slowly eaten until the player appears.

this is a protoype comic maybe i do a longer and better version in a future maybe.

you can see more about my art on my other social media

patreon - Deviantart - youtube -instagram - twitter - kofi

#smiling critters #dogday #catnap #hoppy hopscotch #comic #poppy playtime

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kafus · 6 months ago

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ever since liko lost in her battle against chili back in HZ056 i've been pretty passionate about wanting liko to win her future battle against grusha, partially because i just love her and want to see her win after such a heart-wrenching defeat, but also because i thought it would be good character writing - she loses, but learns to be passionate about battling in the process, and then she can apply that to her next major fight and win as a result. that was my thought process.

as HZ063 drew closer however, i started feeling like that maybe isn't what would happen - the way episodes have panned out, she hasn't really had any major battle training since her loss against chili (her joining roy with "awesome training" does not count LOL), and that massive cetitan and the type disadvantage started to really loom over the whole thing. but i still wasn't sure and by the time HZ063 came out this weekend, i genuinely had no clue what to expect, i just hoped the character writing payoff would be good, win or lose.

AND IT WAS!!! thank fucking god i love liko so much i need more really good liko episodes. i'm eating this up

first off: liko REALLY shows off what she learned from battling chili. honestly an absolute treat to watch. her level of increased confidence and focus honestly made me feel spoiled as a fan. never once did she take her eyes off the battle, she was not distracted by grusha being a hardass, and she's able to think through being pinned into a corner to turn the tides despite the odds stacked against her.

everything from the strategic switch to tebrim, to firing off magical leaf into huljukira's mouth, to grabbing tyltalis by the tail/feet... she's actually a really crafty and thoughtful battler when she sets her mind to it, which makes sense because her battle preferences are more to do with her mind than raw strength. even roy remarks "nice control" because she has notable precise control over her pokemon's actions. point is the payoff for her character development in her battle against chili was still present... despite her loss.

and man does this loss sting like a bitch after watching her perform so well... AND on top of that grusha is a complete asshole about it. like UGH it just hurts to watch. and frankly there's no excuse as someone in grusha's position to be treating students that way... but there is a reason. and the reason makes this episode super fucking interesting. i really like how it was handled, actually.

pretty much directly after a scene where grusha interrupts the trio having fun sledding with the arukujira, we're presented with grusha's backstory about why and how he quit snowboarding. the writing is essentially saying, here's grusha being a no-fun, shitty person, and here's why he's like that. (notably, the trio was doing something similar to snowboarding and had to dodge being injured themselves...)

what's important, though, is that we also find out that grusha didn't quit snowboarding because he was too seriously injured to ever do it again, just that it would be harder for him to achieve the same results he used to. he made a conscious, emotionally fueled decision to quit, because like the man says: he's harsh on everyone, himself included.

at this point, he is basically the opposite of liko, and to the general themes of most stories in pokemon. he is not an incredible pokemon trainer because of passion, in fact he only became a trainer after his snowboarding accident just so he'd have something to succeed at again. he is not an incredible pokemon trainer because of friends or adventure or any other reason than a desperation to reach the same artificial "success" heights that he did before his accident. not to say that he's inhuman - forgiving the arukujira that caused his injury, patting it on the head, and becoming its trainer, signals a sense of personal guilt over the situation, and the arukujira in question obviously likes him despite his behavior. but it's a very strong contrast to what liko learned in HZ056, with being connected with her pokemon through battle, and enjoying fighting tough opponents even though she could lose.

and it's important to note that even as far back as HZ056 itself, grusha was framed as a contrast to liko. he approaches her and his coldness (no pun intended) immediately slices into the atmosphere of the scene and liko's improved mood, and he implies that liko is weak for being happy after losing, because all he personally cares about is winning and being on top.

all of this is to say that grusha is in the wrong to fail liko, he's in the wrong to talk down to her the way that he does. and this is made clear by the writing! when liko loses and grows from it, grusha's there to say something negative about it. when liko is having fun with her pokemon and her friends, he sarcastically remarks that she must be "pretty confident" if she has time to "goof off." the man in the gym says that he could have kept snowboarding, but he quit, as opposed to liko who gets back up again. everyone thinks he's harsh and offputting.

and at the end when grusha fails her, even dot and roy are like, no, maybe he'll pass you or give you a second chance! because they (rightly) experienced those things and were able to grow from those experiences, so surely the same would be the case for liko? but no! and it's a shock to everyone!

the sound effect paired with liko's surprised face clearly indicates that this is supposed to shock the viewer just as much as it shocks liko and her friends.

and her friends are so surprised that they even try to argue with grusha about it!! it is unfair and wrong! and that's so fucking interesting!!! grusha is a flawed adult character, he's not part of the explorers but he's still treating liko wrongly as opposed to with the support that most of the adults in her life have given her, and he has a reason which makes him compelling, but not an excuse. for the type of show this is i am continually surprised by the complexity of some of the character writing, and this hits particularly well. liko's loss feels meaningful... and like setup for something.

to me, this episode seamlessly bridges off of liko's character development set in motion in HZ056, and also makes her character more clear through her contrast with grusha. i definitely don't think this is truly the end of this plot thread - whether or not liko actually gets to fight grusha again sometime in the future or something else, i definitely think liko will get to prove herself in some way, that pokemon battles aren't just about winning or losing and that grusha was indeed in the wrong. and i do hope she gets to fight grusha again or grusha gets to see her prove herself in the future, because it seems like the guy needs to learn to loosen up and have fun and be passionate, too.

i feel even more sure of this because amethio is in the upcoming episode (thank god, i missed him) and grusha parallels amethio in a lot of ways - they both work very hard to be stronger, but just because of a desperation to succeed, and they're both absolutely miserable and irritable as people because of it, though of course amethio's motivations for being this way are very different. i won't speculate too much about the next episode right now but i am hoping that this will be pointed out by the narrative in some way - an amethio episode coming right after this feels... intentional to say the least lol.

the intentional nature of horizons' character writing and its ability to follow through on things it sets up episodes ago never fails to impress me tbh. really good episode. i fucking love liko

#pokemon horizons #anipoke #trainer liko #anipoke spoilers #pokemon horizons spoilers #horizons #kiki was here #kiki.txt #long post

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becausebuckley · 3 months ago

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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 50!

another lovely round of fics for you all <3 full disclosure i did not double check this with my masterlist of recs so while i doubt it, it's possible that i've recced some of these before... i guess that could just be a sign that they're extra good lol.

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

75 best knitting puns that will have you hooked | iphigenias/@oatflatwhite | 4.1k | GA

Buck—Buck is knitting. Eddie blinks, rubs his eyes. Yeah, Buck is knitting: thick fingers a little clumsy as Bobby shows him how to purl stitch with a soft-looking ball of pink ombre wool. softest most domestic little fic <3

all the lights are coming on | sharpbutsoft/@sharpbutsoft | 1.2k | GA

What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic? spreading the holiday magic <3<3 this was everything i needed and wanted and i love it so very much

any other bodily sense | kiwiibiird/@buckevanley | 10.2k | GA

Post-s2 sickfic. Buck is stuck with a broke leg and a bad cold. Maddie and Eddie help him out. forehead kisses and maddie and buddie and hurt/comfort... literally what else could a girl (me) need? the answer is nothing because this fic is everything!!

born with a weak heart | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 7.5k | T

the one where eddie won't touch buck once he wakes up in the hospital, and buck goes absolutely bonkers bananas about it. is it truly a michelle rec list if there's no touch-starved fic on there? i don't think it is lol. i've reread this several times now and it's just the absolute loveliest <3

don't break | odysseus_calls | 2.4k | T

5 times the 118 is tired of Buck and Eddie acting like a couple, and the time they find out they've been dating the whole time. i LOVE hijinks and shenanigans <3 this captures them so perfectly!!

hooker | mansikka | 3.9k | T

When Eddie's life turns to hell, he turns to hooking. Crochet hooking. i've been attempting to crochet again (made a little cat today!) and it's only half because i want to be cool and crafty and half because people make it sound so cool and crafty in fics. anyway point is this was brilliant and so eddie and i loved it v v much!!

i sleep so i can see you ('cause i hate to wait so long) | turquoiseviolet/@turquoisevioiet | 25.7k | T

eddie’s not sleeping and buck’s worried. after all, he’s supposed to be the one who fixes everything, isn’t he? platonic cuddling! homoerotic friendship! getting together! if buddie fic had a bingo card, this would tick all of the boxes <3 so good!!

loves a game, wanna play? | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 57.5k | M

In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together. okay so admittedly all my big plans to read my marked for later list this week failed miserably, cause this is the only fic from there that i actually read... on the other hand, what a brilliant one it is!! it's so funny and so good and i loved the social media elements in there. also, maya and maria <3

sub drop city, population: eddie diaz | peaktotheocean/@peaktotheocean | 4k | T

It takes Eddie longer than he cares to admit to realize that Buck has been giving him aftercare on the sly. i'm such a sucker for aftercare and this has SUCH a lovely buddie dynamic <3

swinging there, in the corner of our haven | anti_romantic_cherub | 1.6k | GA

Eddie bought Buck a hammock, and now he's reaping the rewards (Buck napping in his backyard). buck napping in eddie's backyard <3 such a lovely image and this is executed so so well, i love it!!

the city is a jungle and i'm a beast | putanauhere/@putanauhere | 42.8k | M

Eddie has enough on his plate this summer – a newly empty nest, a terrible new captain, and a new mustache – without adding a new werewolf to the mix. the most fascinating werewolf au <3 i love the buddie dynamic here and how they approach the werewolfism with such different attitudes. so good!!

toss up | saucerfulofsins/@saucerfulofsins | 3.5k | E

Eddie is caught browsing bad gay porn, and Buck takes it upon himself to show Eddie the good stuff. most glorious brilliant fic concept to ever fic <3 this is fantastic!!

trivial pursuit of love | niemi | 6.2k | T

Buck attends Tommy’s trivia night with Eddie, his newfound feelings for his best friend bottled up and ready to burst. As it turns out, he’s not the only one with a secret. buddie at trivia night!! i loved this fic so much, it was a real highlight on a rainy morning bus ride <3

weaving in our loose ends | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 8.6k | T

Eddie is a knitter with the Loose Ends Project and he's assigned to finish the project of a loved one of Buck's. the gasp i let out when i realised what buck's project is... gorgeous fic!!

white sheets, you and me start to lay close | effervescentwolf/@effervescentwolf | 1.5k | T

He thinks of his empty bed at home, and his chest feels tight. It’s just that—it’s okay if it’s Buck. He can let Buck catch him. give me all the bed-sharing fics, please and thank you <3 this is one of the best uses of the trope i've seen in a long time, it's so lovely <3

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #911 abc #911 fic #911 fic rec #michelle’s recs #fic rec list #more winterberry glade coming tomorrow folks #i cannot wait for winter break so i'll have time for fun fandom things #i am. so tired #just one more week #anyway enjoy your reading <3

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janicekao · 1 month ago

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Your Choice (bwam)

Pairing:Gong Yoo x Black OC (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the details in season two of the series "Squid Game." Bella Haven,a fellow gambling addict, close friend, and neighbor to Gi-hun helps with tracking down the recruiter who once played Ddakji with Gi-hun many years ago. That one game of Ddakji changed his life for the worse and ultimately sent him to the Squid Game after receiving a business card that starts it all. When Bella finally catches the recruiter for her friend, she gets caught up in a gamble like none other... far from a game of Ddakji. Warnings:age gap, bdsm, weapons, violence, r0ugh s3x, smut, gambling, mental illness, fanfic, dubc0n, etc. 6367 words Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

"The recruiter is six feet three inches tall." Bella Haven seems to have a knack for making odd friends. She sits on the floor of her friend Seong Gi-hun's apartment as they share two piping hot ramyeons. Gi-hun being twenty-six years her senior, activates his fatherly instincts as he lets Bella get full off of the majority of the rice cake and shrimp that they share. She reminds him of his daughter that he hasn't seen in years, both smart and beautiful girls... surely Bella can help him with this problem that he's been having, he could really use her craftiness.

Gi-hun continues as Bella listens in while slurping back noodles. "The man I need you to look for wears expensive suits with his hair neatly pomaded back into a style. But what stands out about him the most is his actions. He carries a briefcase of money and asks people to play Ddakji with him. The whole game is a gamble, if you lose, he slaps the taste out of your mouth... if you win he'll begin to hand out money. He preys on the poor, the citizens in debt! People who will foolishly continue to play with him. At one time in my life, I was one of those people."

"Sweetie, I don't think you're listening to me." He pouts. "This man hands out a card that entraps people in the Squid Game after calling the number on it. Out of 456 players I was the only one who made it out alive, Bella if I don't find this man, he will do it again. The recruiter will continue to give innocent people this card and usher them into the games where they have no idea that their life is at stake! Bella please!"

"Gi-hun, I hear you." She sighs with slight defiance.

Insanely worried about the mental health of her friend and neighbor, Bella hates when Gi-hun talks about his time at what she believes was a mythical place where the in-debt citizens of South Korea risk their lives playing deadly children games to get a large lump-sum of cash. If he were the winner, and the only one who made it out alive, where is his huge stack of money? "I just don't understand what I have to do with this? I mean really, what can I do? Aren't you paying some of Seoul's biggest gangsters a lot of won to find this man at the subway station? If they can't do it, what makes you think that I can?"

"Because Bella..." He insists. "I still remember what happened with that American fiancé of yours. When he was stationed here in Korea and the asshole tried to leave you. He tried to take the money you both saved up together and go back to the States without you. I don't mean to bring up old dirt my dear, but the way you tracked him down in days before he could even book a flight, that's the kind of person I need on this."

The memory of being nearly left at the altar three years ago makes her cringe. But he's right, Bella has the unnecessary skill for tracking.

Taking a pause on their meal, she sighs. "Fine... So I'll go look for the tall handsome guy playing Ddakji at the train station and slapping people around, happy?"

"You're the best." Gi-hun finally smiles. "You find him, and I'll have a hundred-thousand won waiting for you."

She immediately refuses it. "Not necessary, keep your money, that's what friends are for."

Gi-hun nods with a warmed heart. "Right, friends."

"But you can pay me in that last rice cake however." Already nearly swallowing the rice cake whole, she doesn't await an answer. Watching the cute twenty-six year old with full cheeks of rice cake makes Gi-hun chuckle.

...

"Bella?" He asks, suddenly becoming curious. "I'm glad you stayed in Korea, but can I ask why you never went back home to America?"

Bella ponders for an answer... Truthfully, why would she want to go back to the States where the men are spineless and her family hasn't reached out to her in years? Most of all, how would she even get there? Her money has gotten low and having the same addiction to gambling as Gi-hun does, really doesn't help with the fee of a plane ticket... Honestly, for the meantime it might just be best for Bella to stay exactly where she is— keeping an apartment with low rent and a decent landlord, and surrounded by people that actually care for her.

Finally she shrugs. "Go back to America? Have you seen the president they elected? I think I'm fine right here in Seoul."

———

A week of time passes and with Bella's incredible luck and skill she finds a man who fits Gi-hun's description of the recruiter just right. At first she wasn't sure if it were the man he was looking for... Do you know how many men wear nice suits and carry a briefcase in Seoul? A lot. But it was the man's actions that lead her to believe that he was exactly who she was looking for.

As Bella trails him, the man stops at a local bakery where he makes a purchase of a hundred pieces of bread and a hundred lottery tickets.

He walks to the nearest park with pride and an uneasy smile on his face as he presents the homeless people who live in squalor there the choice of choosing bread that they are starving for, or a lottery ticket...

A gamble, a game.

The impoverished dumbly all choose the lottery ticket instead of feeding themselves today. And when they are given a coin to scratch the ticket, to no surprise they all are duds, no winners at all.

Although Gi-hun and Bella are both a victim to the greed of money and gambling, seeing starving people choose a lottery ticket over food that they need really shows how bad the hidden side of poverty in Korea has gotten.

After the homeless have made their choices, the recruiter does the unthinkable. With bags still loaded and full of bread, he pours it onto the concrete and stomps the pastries to absolute mush.

The hungry onlookers watch in disbelief, but who is there to blame when they chose the lottery ticket instead.

As the recruiter slicks back his hair, taking himself out of the wild outburst, Bella realizes how psychotic he really is. The man seems to be proud of himself. Having enjoyed teaching people a lesson and forcing them into difficult choices.

He laughs... he's excited, maybe even aroused.

Bella thought that the man she is spying on couldn't be crazier, but after a few more hours of researching him, he surely proves her wrong.

After the incident at the park, Bella continues to follow carefully after the man when she recognizes a familiar face that sneaks behind him. One of the gangsters. She recognizes the man as one of the gangsters Gi-hun also hired to help look for this man. But the recruiter isn't pleased by their company. Unimpressed with being followed around, he attacks the gangster, leaving him limping and bruised by the brutal beating of his briefcase...

Bella knows now that coming into the man's space isn't the best idea and she decides to give Gi-hun a call about the good news... Even though the man is dangerous, at least they have finally found him.

During the call, Gi-hun clearly worries about Bella's safety. "Don't approach him!" He warns. "I'm on my way, just stay on his tail but stay hidden!"

And so she does. Bella keeps her distance as she follows the man to his next destination, and sure enough he enters the subway station offering the poor and vulnerable a game of Ddakji.

From a distance, she watches the recruiter play this game one after the other. People continue to play the game and accept his slaps each time that they lose, all in hopes of winning a hundred-thousand won in the next round... After a while of watching from a far, it gets to be too much for Bella. She can't stand to watch him take advantage of another financially irresponsible person again! Clearly these people need help! Not to be assaulted and humiliated for their greed of money.

She takes Gi-hun's advice with a grain of salt, soon ignoring his pleads for her safety and approaching the man after all.

"Hey! You!" Bella's blood warms to a near boil off of her courage alone. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Finally crossing the train track and entering the platform on his side, she soon realizes that the man is much taller than she expected... finding herself cranking her neck upwards to try and talk 'down' on him.

"Me?" He asks sarcastically. "Just playing some Ddakji."

She scoffs. Bella looks towards the slapped-red faced gambling victim and tells him to scram. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself you know." Her scorning continues, "how dare you take advantage of people in a bad situation!?"

"It's you." His head cocks to the side as he finally recognizes her. "Yeah, you've been the one trailing me, haven't you?"

Never having made eye contact with the man the entire time she spied on him, she isn't sure how he knows exactly what she has been up to... a lie spills from her tongue. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

He gently chuckles at her terrible fibbing. "Is there something that you want? Who has you spying on me?"

"What you do is no secret." Bella snaps in a hushed tone to keep from onlookers. "I know about the Squid Game. Gi-hun told me—"

"Ahhh..." He coos in interruption. "Player 456."

Damn it... Maybe great at tracking someone down, but holding her tongue? Not as much.

"How old are you?" The recruiter asks.

She gulps. "Twenty-six."

He bites his lip at the unsure thought of their near twenty year age gap, however Bella's spunk and eye candy appearance surely is amusing. "I'm glad to see Player 456 is spending his earnings well." The man instantly assumes that Bella is paid for... Gi-hun's play toy that is.

Offended is an understatement. "Excuse me?"

He snickers. "Well how else would you know Gi-hun? He's twice your age."

"He's my friend asshole!" Bella scoffs. "Which is why I know everything about you... and your employer too!"

"Oh do you now?" The man questions. "And you actually trust everything your friend has told you?"

...

For years now Bella has thought Gi-hun's talk about the Squid Game were only a crazy delusion of his... But still she rather trust her friend than this lunatic that she has witnessed today. "Without a doubt in my mind. He's on his way here by the way, he needs to speak with you. I want you to stop your running and listen to what he has to say. A meeting with you has been on his mind for a long time now."

"I'll meet with him." The recruiter agrees. "What's better than seeing an old friend again. But first, would you like to play a game with me?"

"I've sat here watching you play this same game over and over again with people... No thanks, I'd rather not be slapped and humiliated." Her tone comes out harsh, just as she means it.

"Slap you?" Diamonds glimmer from his expensive watch as he lifts his hand to Bella's face, lightly caressing her cheek and tucking her fro behind her ear. "A face this pretty? Never."

The compliment was unexpected and Bella blushes red hot. 'Games' she tells herself. 'Don't let him get to you, all he plays are games.'

"Not even an attempt at a hundred-thousand won?" He opens his briefcase to the sight of money, trying his hardest to convince the girl with hopes that she too is a gambling addict.. Little does he know, Bella is.

She licks her lips at the sight of the money thinking that maybe one game wouldn't hurt. With an unhealthy love for lottery and games, she finds it impossible to say no. However she still knows his ploys and tactics. "Fine I'll play, but I don't want a card to the Squid Game. I know all about it, I'd never go."

As Bella reaches for the Ddakji pieces, he instantly refuses her. "No Squid Game, just a night with me."

He doesn't want to play Ddakji, this causes Bella utmost confusion. "A night of what?"

"A night of more games." He persuades with a handsome smile. "So, what do you say?"

———

The Pink Hotel.

One of Seoul's oldest and most well known hotels although currently it's closed and going through renovation.

"Here is fine." The recruiter insists.

Bella looks around at the street becoming uncomfortably empty now that night is falling. "Here? Isn't this place closed?"

"I have a room." He begins to cross the street. "Are you coming?"

...

She'd be such a fool to go into this building with a man who's done the most atrocious things today... From assaulting people, to belittling them... What could he have planned for her?

Rain begins to fall, soaking Bella and her rags of clothes as she stands with a stranger on a corner of a strange street. "You'll get sick out here, the rain is ice cold. What are you waiting for?"

"Maybe we should go back, Gi-hun expects you and I to be at the station still..." As rain pounds them, Bella raises her soft voice to be heard over the sound of the rain's drum.

"I've told you once before, if Gi-hun would like a word, I'll be sure to come to him. We can go back after this storm." The man uses his sly tactics to get Bella exactly where he wants her. "Sorry, I just thought you'd want the chance to make a few hundred-thousand won."

"A few?" Mind back on money, she doesn't think straight any longer. "I thought I'd earn only one hundred-thousand if I won... I'm a few million won in debt, so what are you saying? I could actually earn more?"

His slick hair with partnered raindrops drips and compliments his chiseled jaw. Instead of answering, another handsome-toothy chuckle escapes the depths of his baritoned voice. He continues towards the hotel, and instead of staying out in the cold becoming drenched by rain, Bella follows right behind him.

The two enter the hotel and just as Bella thought, the building is clearly under reconstruction. The place is absolutely empty tonight with not even an employee behind the lobby's desk.

Together they enter a sketchy elevator, taking an awkward and quiet ride to the fourth floor. At their stop, Bella follows behind the man as she tries her best to keep up with his steady stride and long legs. He uses a key to unlock the room's door and as they enter, Bella doesn't realize that he locks the door behind them.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. "Water, Soju maybe?"

"No thanks... I'm fine." Bella takes notice to the stale smell of the old room. Although it's not exactly warm and polished, it still very clearly untouched. Is this really his room? Or is it also the first time he's been here himself? "So what's your name? What do I call you?"

"Hmm." He ponders slightly as he pulls a chair out at a small circle table for Bella to sit in, and soon sits in one across from her. "Call me whatever you and Player 456 have been calling me."

"Fine." Bella shrugs. "The salesman, the recruiter, the devil..."

He chuckles. "Then that'll do just fine. Let's play."

Bella awaits their game of Ddakji, however the recruiter has something else in mind as a gun is suddenly pointed at her.

Her first response is to immediately jump up from her chair.

"Sit down." His voice, a usually calm and collected tone has quickly become a demanding threat.

Afraid of being shot, Bella slowly lows her body back into the chair. Tears stain her cheeks and frustration clouds her head. She's just as bad as the rest of his victims today... Just as naive and money hungry, and now look what has happened.

The recruiter stands from his chair and loads his gun with one bullet. "The game is Russian Roulette." He begins. "My revolver holds six bullets, yet I've only filled one round. I'll spin in it, and the both of us are clueless to where it landed yet we have equal chances of being shot. Shall we begin?"

"The fuck?" Bella fumes. "I thought we'd spend the night putting money down on a card game o-or having the loser take shots of soju if they lose in Ddakji."

"Child's play." He shrugs.

"Fuck you, I won't play." She snatches her teary eye contact from him and it injures his heart.

For her, he'll even switch up the rules a little. "Fine, I won't be so rough on you. I'll allow you to skip your turn, by doing this enough, you'll never have the trigger pulled on you... you would end up winning. You could have the entire million won in my briefcase right now and it would be rightfully yours."

A million won? If Bella had a million won, she'd finally be out of debt.

Seeing that she's already here and in his possession, she pokes at seeing exactly what she'll have to do for it.. "What do I have to do to skip my turn?"

"Endure the gun." The recruiter states clearly. "...Between your legs that is."

...

She nearly chokes.

Did he really just ask that?

"You're sick." Teeth gritted together, Bella could absolutely spit on the lunatic for asking something as vile as that.

Onto his knees, the man nearly begs for her participation. His voice begins to tremble with desperate need and desire. "Five million won?"

Her eyes widen into dollar signs. Five million won? It would pay her debt, her bills, and keep money in her pocket.

Five million won to play this game, and risk getting shot, or to just go and fuck his gun.

After taking it into consideration, Bella decides to go for it and when the night ends, she'll place this evening behind her and live a wealthy life with an erased memory of it.

Standing from her chair, the recruiter watches the trembling young minx lower her denim shorts along with her lace panties— sitting back into her chair with the bottom half of her body completely bare.

He catches a glimpse of her womanhood below, nearly salivating and drawing his eyebrow up in tempted curiosity.

"So let's play." Back into his own chair, the man points the gun at Bella's chest and pulls the trigger.

The gun clicks... no bullet.

With a heart beating out of her chest, Bella screams bloody murder. How could he!? How could he pull the trigger on her without even giving her the choice!? "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

"I knew you were lucky." He states calmly. "There wasn't anything to worry about. Now we are down to the probability of two out of six. My turn."

The recruiter comes across the table, not even an inch from Bella's face as she watches in horror. Her nostrils fill with his handsome cologne and the sight of stained blood on his cheek from beating up the gangster earlier becomes even more prevalent.

The man refuses to break eye contact as he opens his mouth and deep throat's the barrel of his gun.

So close to this man that if the bullet decided to land this round, his brains would absolutely drench her. "Please don't." She begs.

He does it anyways.

Click... no bullet.

He chuckles... a laugh that is overly maniacal. "Your turn again, what will you choose?"

He begins to tease her. "You see, it really isn't all that difficult."

Bella gulps.

Knowing that she isn't about to aim this gun at her head, she trembles as she slowly widens her legs.

"Ahhh I see..." He groans in clear utter excitement.

The recruiter walks in her direction and eases his free hand into her lap. She watches the large palm with handsomely long fingers ease between her thighs, biting her lip at the infatuation of how a man's veiny hand looks paired with an expensive watch on his wrist between her legs.

His two most middle fingers invite themselves to her cunt. Circling softly and bringing her to quiet moans. Bella grabs his wrist. "What are you doing to me?"

"Shhh." He hushes. "You wouldn't want this to enter you, unwarmed, now would you?"

Bella pushes his hand away. "I can do it myself."

Her defiance is breathtaking. His infatuation with her grows to an astonishing high. "Then maybe I'll just help from behind."

As Bella leans back and widens her thighs for better access to playtime within her folds, the man watches from behind her and begins to assist.

His freehand slides down the front of her blouse, touching at her breasts and slowly teasing her hardened buds. As Bella plays with herself, her eyes loll closed from the high adrenaline of her two most favorite things, sex and a gamble.

The recruiter begins to slowly kiss her cheek, whispering lewd nothings in her ear as his lips trace her curly sideburns and edges. "Isn't this fun?" His strong grasp chokes her throat and causes Bella to moan out loud. "And don't tell me it's not, I hear the stirring of your cunt as if you were cooking sticky ramyeon. You fucking love this don't you?"

Beginning to notice her uncomfortable stirring in her seat, the recruiter refuses her orgasm unless it's on the tip of his weapon. Interrupting her masturbation, the man steps between Bella and the table, hiking her legs around his waist as Bella gasps and watches above her.

Her legs are spread wide around his large frame and shame fills her as she fails at an attempt to close them. "No, please."

"Shut up." The barrel breaches her entry causing Bella's back to arch from the chair. The metal is cold, unrealistically hard, and slightly sharp in some areas. But it's all part of their agreement.

He fucks her with it. Forcing at least four inches of cold steel in her each pump so he can find his satisfaction at the slight tug of her snugness around his barrel.

Her breathing is so rapid, she can't take her eyes off of what he's doing to her. Never in her life has she been fucked by anything but a cock or a vibrator, but tonight she watches an actual revolver pump into her as if the gun were to breed her with bullets.

"God!" She weeps from his brutish behavior. "S-Slow down!"

The recruiter grins. Although his wrist is becoming tired, the last thing he'll do is slow down. His eyes glue on the sight of pretty brown pussy soaking his gun and fingertips as it reddens each time he thrusts inside her. His jaw falls open and quickly tightens clenched shut as his erection against his dress slacks aches him like nothing before.

"Nuh-mmm!" Bella tries to refuse it and shout out 'no' but feeling so full has never felt better, instead of her refusal, a moan of clear thrill and discomfort fills the room, however the web of arousal soaking the black metal says otherwise about her enjoyment.

Feeling her climax beginning to fall over the edge, Bella grabs his wrist to end her torture.

"I wouldn't do that." He warns, sweating and brain short-circuiting with how turned on he is. "One little slip and I could pull this trigger, if you're not lucky this third time around, it could be you having a hot bullet soaring through your insides and splitting you in half."

She can't believe the thrill that trembles through his voice. He's loving every second of this.

Watching up at the older gentleman who has started to lose himself— sweating his pomade out and panting in desperation. Bella's eyes widen into fear and disbelief. "You—You frighten me."

He catches Bella by her throat, lifting her from her seat and into his gaze. The pumping of the gun as if it were a dildo quickens and roughens into deeper blows as she dangles in front of him. "And isn't being frightened absolutely exhilarating?"

He catches her gasps for air with his tongue kiss. He kisses her so well, Bella jolts feeling as if she is being fucked in a second place.

Pulling from the kiss he's given, the man notices his gun finding a harder time fucking her as Bella's hips buck and her walls tighten around it. She makes a strangled noise as her soul ascends, orgasming and falling limp into the recruiter's chest. It was never the steel of the gun that got her there... it was who was conducting it.

"You are just so pretty aren't you?" His grin is everlasting as he holds up his play toy of the night in his arms. For a taste of her fear and exhilaration, he licks a salty tear from her cheek. "Gripping this gun like you should, you might just be my best girl. Hm?"

Dumbfounded, sore, and fucked out, Bella nods with half-lidded eyes. Her legs are no good, trembling like a baby deer as she is placed back in her seat.

The recruiter wipes his weapon with his suit's handkerchief, soon wiping his own shot of cum as he reaches down his belt to adjust the erection that has been plaguing him for the last half hour.

"If you want to fuck me, you should've just lead with that." She watched his indecent adjustments. Bella catches her breath, biting the inside of her cheek as her nostrils flare with anger and hatred for the man.

"That would be nice, yes, but I want your fear and desperation just as much." He swipes his hair backwards and back into place, shooting Bella's round at the ceiling to find out it was just another empty shot and her time of being fucked by a weapon was for absolutely nothing. This alone makes him chuckle as Bella falls into even more disgust with herself. "It's all about the choices we make, isn't it sweetheart?"

He sighs with the gun to his head. "Well, I guess it's my turn again."

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The recruiter falls back into his chair as if he were drunk, maybe high off their kinky sex. He aims the gun at his skull and crosses the table back closely into her face. He begins to shake maniacally. The fourth shot. The probability of getting the bullet is much higher than it ever has been now. He knows the risks, however he's crazy and doesn't exactly give an entire fuck.

The fourth shot clicks, firing no bullet.

He takes a deep breath, nearly moaning as he sighs in relief.

It's time for the fifth shot... Bella's turn again.

So eager for another round of fucking her with his gun, it's clear that he's excited to pull the trigger and waste her shot on the ceiling so they can begin their fun again... But to his surprise, Bella has had a change of heart.

Embarrassment has eaten away at her during his turn. Twenty-six and living a life of gambling and debt so bad that tonight it's gotten to the point of allowing a strange man to fuck her with his weapon.

"Shoot it." Nearly suicidal and over this game of Russian Roulette, Bella hopes that the gun goes off.

...

"What?" His expression has changed to fear and worry. He attempts to keep up with his poker face, but he doesn't actually want to fire the gun worried that it could be the shot that kills her. This alone makes him angry. No one has ever made him come out of his character, never in his life has he second guessed a decision during a gamble.

"Sorry." She tilts her head in curious sarcasm. "Were you enjoying yourself too much when I'd skip my turn instead?"

He scoffs with a light chuckle, frustrated yet intrigued about her sass and defiance.

"This is stupid." He refuses. "Don't make me do this."

The recruiter's hand begins to tremble as the gun points in her direction.

She ignores him. Bella clutches her eyes tightly shut and awaits her last fifty-fifty chance. "Shoot it."

It pains him to pull the trigger without a clue if this could be the last time he ever lays eyes on the girl he has become infatuated with, but being that he is an employee of the Squid Game... no game should ever go unfinished.

The recruiter pulls the trigger...

They both sigh in relief being that the gun didn't go off. However, that only means one thing. The bullet is in the last round, and it's also his turn.

Beaten at his own game. How embarrassing, yet how impressive.

He begins. "The last shot... this bullet is going to kill me."

...

Bella refuses it. She doesn't want to see anyone die, she just wants it all to end. "Don't do it."

"You win." His smile now seems more like a goodbye instead of his mischievous smirk. "It's been a pleasure playing with you. I'd like to admit to having had one of the best evenings of my forty-five years of life with you tonight. I have found you to be incredibly delightful, it is sad that our time has come to its end. Call it a crush if you will."

"I don't even know your name!" Bella exclaims, trying her best to buy time. "You don't even know mine!"

"The code to my briefcase is four zeros." The recruiter ignores her. "Goodbye now."

The raised gun to his temple makes Bella panic.

He can't... She won't allow it.

With his finger on the trigger, Bella takes the opportunity to flip the table and smack the gun out of his hand as the shot fires. Bella and the recruiter watch the bullet shatter the hotel's glass mirror as the smell of both of their fright fills the entire room.

...

Able to breathe again, Bella realizes that it's finally over. No care for the money or there being a winner in the end, it's finally just over.

It's done and no one is dead. As Bella takes a moment of air to realize this happy ending, the recruiter quietly takes in her image instead.

In his line of work, there aren't happy endings. They usually end in a selfish moment with opponents who would have gladly taken his life for the briefcase full of money... but not her. Not Bella.

Without a selfish bone in her body, he watches the beauty who put his life before the money that she needs and he's never desired anything more than her. "I want your name."

Finally taking her eyes from the shattered glass mirror, she turns towards the recruiter in curiosity. "What? Oh— it's, Bella."

"Bella." He repeats with eyes swelling into full beating hearts. "Bella, Bella, Bella."He presses his lips to her neck with a gentle kiss. The most gentle and stable he's been all night.

The man lifts Bella's top from over her head, leaving her completely bare in his presence. His touch is soft as he pulls her closer to him with earth-shattering kisses against her lips, Bella accepts them without any hassle. He begins to strip out of his clothes, revealing a handsomely toned body with an enticingly long erection pressed against her belly. In the very moment, actions become much more important than words. The recruiter cherishes her body like gold, thanking her with heaven like caresses and gratitude. Their lips unlock for only a moment in time, as the man lifts her and places Bella gently on the bed, he licks his middle most fingers and slowly brings her back into heated passion with his gentle petting.

Biting her lip so hard that she tastes faint blood, Bella arches her back as the fingering collides with his tongue. Groaning in her pussy the man reacts to her taste as if he were starved. His breath and lapping tongue on her pearl brings her to hysterics. Wanting only to cum this next time on his cock, Bella's fingers dive deeply into his jet black hair as she slowly guides him towards her face with a hair pull. Together they share Bella's taste within their kiss and Bella widens her thighs, stretching open with need to feel his penetration.

Her hands reach down his washboard chiseled abdomen until her palm is wrapped around his rod directing him into her entrance. As his cockhead breaches her, the recruiter's jaw laxes into an opened drop. "Fuck..." He dissolves into pleasure as his most sensitive body part weakens him. The tip of his cock is no match for how well Bella is soon to make him feel.

Plummeting inside her cunt for a first stroke tightens his muscles as he begins to buck his hips upward, sleeving himself in the tightness of her heat. Bella wraps her arms around his neck as she quiets her own hushed sobs of pleasure.

His strokes are absent-minded power drives. Enamored and rushed with the feeling of perfect sex as he already wishes to relive this moment every day for the rest of his life. The recruiter takes a firm hold of Bella's ankle and places it over his shoulder, nailing her to the mattress as his cockhead continuously kisses at her cervix.

"Sweet baby." He complains. "God, I'm so close." Bella's purrs are throaty and weak, a spring in her core tightens and nears its release each time he makes a complaint— a beg from a fully grown man, like music to her ears.

"Faster, cum for me." Feeling his cock quake and pulse makes her world stutter on its axis, Bella explodes into oblivion. Moaning as a gasp of air drains her of all energy. Covered in her nectar, his cock even glistens in the moonlight. He pulls out once more and rams his erection inside for a finale. Her pussy spoils him with a lewdly tight hug and begins to drain him of cum, he pulls out a second too late, feverish and skyrocketing a design of his jizz from her cunt towards her belly button. A failed attempt, being that Bella's sex blew his mind and silenced the room into nothing but blank white noise.

A moment to stare at his mess nearly makes him dizzy. Not a day of work goes by ever this phenomenally. In this very bed, a deliciously gorgeous young woman continues to moan for more of him with his semen already trailing down her skin...

His Ddakji duties at the subway will just have to wait another night. Tonight the world has completely stopped, and well, the Squid Game will just have to wait.

The recruiter lifts the comforter over his head as he lays on top of a hypnotizing giggly Bella and swallowing her whole. Their bodies intwine beneath the covers and as Bella arches her back again for his taking, the recruiter realizes that the night is still young, extremely far, from being over.

———

Morning light wakes the two through the blinds of the hotel room's windows. Both too afraid to look at their phones knowing that Bella's will be filled with calls and messages from Gi-hun and the recruiter's will be full of his employer having long awaited for an update by now... they decide to just dress instead.

The tension is awkward. They are both sure they'll never experience a night like that again in their entire lives... but Bella is even a bit sad from the lack of eye contact and communication. After a night of being a man's toaster strudel and repetitively receiving his icing, makes it feel a bit impossible to just become strangers again.

Although silent, the recruiter still acts as a gentleman although he has now returned to his business like ways. He holds the door for Bella and even assisted in dressing her, however he can't bring himself to look at her in the eyes from the fear of wanting something that he knows in his line of work he can't have... a companion.

Out of the vintage hotel and back on the streets, the two begin to part ways... but the recruiter can't bring himself to do it. "Before you leave, I believe you still deserve the money you won from our game of Russian Roulette last night." He craves one more conversation from her, even if it means giving her everything that he has in his briefcase.

Hearing his voice is nice, but to Bella it's also a bit heartbreaking and bittersweet. He seems to be strictly back to business with no regard of what happened last night. "Double it and give it to the next person." She shrugs, voice cutely hoarse from a night of shouting from his sex. "Just don't give them as hard as a time to get it as I had."

He's again dumbfounded by her surprise response. Again reminded of how selfless the young woman truly is as his heart begins to swell. "Really?"

"Really." Bella begins to kick rocks in her baby blue pair of dusty old high-top converses, boredly waiting by her lonesome for the next bus to come her direction.

The recruiter tries his hardest to leave her as he continues to walk ahead, but something stops him, forcing him to turn around to her with a hand proposed outwards. "I'm looking for a business partner, are you interested?"

...

Staring at the handsome outstretched hand, she's strangely interested in taking it.

"Well, I can't say I like what you're doing." Her honesty is a breath of fresh air to the man who is used to constant finessors.

He chuckles. "You don't have to like it, just me."

...

She can't argue with that, because indeed she does.

Bella Haven thought that the biggest gamble she'd ever have to take was having her life on the line during a game of Russian Roulette, little did she know her biggest gamble would be to accept this man's hand and see where it takes her...

She does it anyways.

Fitting into his hand like a glove and against the side of his body as if she were made to be there, Bella accepts his offer to continue what they had started. "And your name?" She frowns in disbelief that they still have yet to be on a first name basis. "What should I call you?"

The recruiter gently tugs her closer to him, staring down upon her with a smile, he finds comfort in her being there beside him. "Call me yours."

#dark romance #er0tica #smut #age g@p #dark romanticism #gong yoo #squid game #the recruiter #ambw fic #ambw smut #dubc0n #squid game season 2 #seong gihun #korean drama #kdrama #rough kink #degrading k1nk #black oc

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