#I'm not trying to clog up the tag i promise

[sigilmint]

deleted the third reblog of that art bc I've done a lot of good work over the years to get over the temptation to do comparison, temptation to agonize over notes, etc, but that post is really testing how far I've come with that and at this point a third reblog just felt embarrassing and sad

[acursedhalo]

Reunited with Jill. - "Not you. Not here."

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

It's officially Halloween for me now so I get to post these!!

Reblogs appreciated! ^^

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail. 

“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.” 

“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you. 

“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts. 

The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish. 

The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward. 

“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt. 

His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss. 

You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder. 

“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly. 

The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare. 

“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.” 

He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.” 

You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit. 

The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples. 

“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.” 

“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.” 

“Horse pie? But he is fast.” 

“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.” 

“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.” 

“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.” 

“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.” 

You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker. 

“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.” 

You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road. 

“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask. 

“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.” 

You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well. 

“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.” 

“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?” 

“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.” 

He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry. 

⚔️

The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent. 

“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along. 

You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail. 

“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.” 

“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move. 

You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter. 

“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.” 

You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric. 

“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly. 

“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.” 

“Yes, your highness, but the king--” 

“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.” 

You stare at her unmoving. 

“They won’t allow it, your highness--” 

A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands. 

“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!” 

She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away. 

“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.” 

You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either. 

You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion. 

It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion. 

⚔️

The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains. 

You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party. 

Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist. 

“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance. 

You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head. 

“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.” 

He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth. 

“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow. 

“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.” 

“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.” 

“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down. 

He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it. 

“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls. 

You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose. 

⚔️

That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out. 

Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat. 

You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart. 

“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back. 

“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers. 

“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels. 

You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?” 

“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs. 

“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?” 

He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. 

“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds. 

“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.” 

He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.” 

“A skirmish?” 

“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.” 

“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.” 

“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.” 

“Yellow?” You wonder. 

“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”  

You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips. 

“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?” 

Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.” 

You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?” 

“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.” 

You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?” 

“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.” 

[bananasfosterparent]

I'm gonna be real, I'm very worried that Larian is going to try & make AA even more overtly the "bad choice" in their next patch (they promised some epilogue animations). I just really don't understand why the antis have to be so obnoxiously loud telling a company to change THEIR game because of a way they choose to interpret something. Isn't the whole point of an RPG that you're allowed to craft a narrative around the narrative-- but to pressure the writers into editing their hard work because they "don't like it" is just so,,,,..ugh

I just wish people would stop infantilizing the crap out of Astarion as a character. They give him all these sweet HC when half of them are just Wyll.. Like the "I can fix him" complex has rotted our society

Honestly? I'm not worried about it at all.

Mostly because I don't think Larian cares lmao At least, not in that way.

Get ready, it's 1am, I had my meds, and had some caffeine, so here comes ramble :D

They want to please their fans, and while spawn fans make up a majority of the Astarion side of the fandom, and there may be (speculated) peices in place to make AA seem worse in-game with these updates....I honestly don't think Larian as a whole cares enough to join in on the one-sided righteousness battle.

They made this game for the purpose that most AA fans (at least, ones I know) use it for: roleplaying, as you pointed out. And I'm very sure they aren't blind to just how one-sided the discourse is.

For example, on the official Larian Discord server, AA fans voiced their opinion on the Tav/Durge expressions in the new AA kisses. And from what I saw, the opinions were presently respectfully and with the roleplay experience in mind. How the expressions aren't ideal for evil roleplay. But after that, the same suggestions thread got clogged with anti-AA players begging Larain to "not destroy the narrative" they've apparently been telling and to not listen to us "delulu" AA fans. And the threads were locked by a mod and cleaned up, to "prevent bullying". I think Larian sees clearly who is focused on quality of roleplay and who is focused on arbitrary arguments.

Because the evil endings aren't supposed to be satisfying to those who don't play them. They aren't supposed to be a moral lesson to the player. It's not that meta (no matter how some people want it to be). It's not that type of game. The evil endings are supposed to be satisfying for those who enjoy playing those endings.

It's supposed to be a different experience. Empty and lonely, sure! But it's still meant to be rewarding for the player. Otherwise, it would be pointless to offer as a roleplay style.

I don't think Larian anticipated so many of us would prefer playing evil like this. I think the idea was for it to be a thing you do after you get bored of playing a few good solo runs. It also doesn't make any sense to spend time and money on an ending, just to slap the player on the wrist for choosing it. They see from the stats how often people make certain choices. People play evil in this game for a lot of reasons, but one big one is because it's just good, devious fun! And without any actual, real world consequences. And I think they see that more than anything. I assume you're also talking about the new evil ending updates?

This phrasing from the first article I saw about it is promising to me that these updates will be satisfying for those who actually enjoy playing/romancing evil--as a positive dark romance and not as some abusive romantic tragedy.

I hope "satisfying narrative conclusions" means that the player can enjoy it for their roleplay. And doesn't just mean the endings are rounded out, but the player gets "punished" in the end. I mean, what are you being punished for exactly? Having fun? SERIOUSLY. Any anti-AA fans lurking the tag care to explain exactly WHY you want people to be punished for playing evil in a video game? I really don't get that. And I don't think Larian cares to do that to their consumers.

Truthfully... I'm hoping the new evil ending fixes will fix Minthara's bugs for one thing. But I also am hoping that it will give us some good AA content. I don't even want to speculate... I'm just gonna wait and see!

AND YES. The infantilization of Astarion and the whole concept of "oh what a cute helpless silly lil bby gorl who needs saving from himself, must be protected and shown who he should be because my Tav/Durge knows best for someone they barely know who's a different creature from them entirely" is...just...

They want a mix of Wyll and Gale but with Astarion's face, voice, and body.

[lericekrispie]

A bad bitch's guide to practical fashion

Hello! Just some realistic tips and tricks I've learned through living life to help me with some of my conditions while still slaying. Things I deal with that you may be able to relate to-

Anxiety, Adhd, Sensory Issues, Heavyset, Lite Eczema, Acne

Keep a spare change of clothes in your car/bag

Sometimes, I want to wear an outfit that's outside of my comfort zone. Maybe it's wearing something that shows off my curves more, or a fabric that I can barely tolerate. And I push myself out of my comfort zone to try something new! But sometimes I realize halfway through the day that if I don't change right this second, I will have a panic attack and die. Keeping a pair of SAFE clothes in your car/bag is always a good idea! I have sweats, a sweatshirt, and shorts in my car at all times. Also great if you are chaffing/having a bad skin day and need to change unexpectedly.

Buy clothes that fit you

I have this problem of always trying on things and thinking hmmm... maybe it'll fit in a year, once I start working out, loose some weight... NO! Clothes fit you, you aren't supposed to fit clothes! If you do loose some weight, then you get to go shopping again :) and buy more clothes. But you are shopping for present you right now, your beautiful, amazing, fashionable self.

Cut your tags/clothes up

I was told by my parents to not cut my tags, and I was always afraid to. But I'm telling you, you bought those clothes, these are yours, do whatever you want with what you own. Cut the tag if it'll make you feel better. If the arms are too tight cut a slit. On the same note, if you want to tie something shorter with a hair-tie, fucking do it! If it's not short enough crop it. I promise the clothes police won't come after you.

don't put up with terrible fabrics

Don't buy something if you know wearing it is going to be a chore b/c of the sensation. Also, here are some tips for some fabrics

leggings under jeans if you can tolerate leggings > jeans

fishnets under jeans w/ holes if fishnets > jeans

colorful sweatpants (neon green, orange, red, ect.) as a comfy fashion statement

a nice turtleneck under a t-shirt if turtleneck > shirt

long socks (men's section rocks) to avoid blisters on ankles

don't put up with terrible jewelry

I personally love jewelry, but can only keep some things on for so long.

try gloves instead of rings. you can make gloves out of fishnets/tights

try woven/braided bracelets that are not removable w/o scissors > metal clunky bracelets (anklets too)

try skin markers/henna > annoying hand jewelry

If you are trying to branch out but are self-conscious, try to find a safety jacket

just a jacket that you can slip on and off, something light, that you can zip up if you get self-conscious and will make you feel better, but something you can carry/tie around your waist if you are feeling yourself.

My makeup if I'm having bad acne/can't handle the feeling

Concealer- over redness

Body stick/blush- on eyes and cheeks, and nose

Vaseline/Chapstick on lips, can put Vaseline on eyelids for shine (can clog pores be careful)

Mascara

Takes like 15 minutes also if ur in a rush!

For my fellas with boobas who hate bras

here are alternatives!

Trans tape- havn't tried but have heard good things

Breast petals- personally they are expensive, so I mostly use bandaids. Always a toss up if you are going to rip up the nip. NOT FUN! DO NOT RECCOMEND! Only do so if you don't care about having scabs on the girls. Or are poor, like me, and have to use bandaids.

Just don't wear a bra. I mostly go for this option, I feel so free. Very gender affirming, love a bad-bitch who doesn't wear a bra. I save so much money. You have no idea. SO MUCH MONEY. I also love never feeling the pain of a bra, the idea of putting one on is so foreign to me now. I never realized how much pain I was in b4.

This is my advice for now, hope it helps! If you have anything to share pls feel free to! <3

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90​

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

[the-way-astray]

as someone who isn't keeping up with your . . . whatever the fuck you have going on there and who also decided to block the tag recently, i'd like to say i'm having no issues. your drama does have to do with kotlc (keefe). people who don't like it can block the tag it's not that deep people. post it in the kotlc tag if you want to, i'm super cool with that because i have the tag blocked.

alright posting this ask to clear up a couple of things (not responding directly to anon, sorry):

the poll ran out and it does seem like the majority of people want me to post my stuff in the kotlc tag. i said i'd do what the majority of people want, but i also don't want to unnecessarily piss people off.

so i am going to continue to not post the strieefe drama in the kotlc tag for the next twenty-four hours (give or take a few). during this time feel free to come to me with asks/anything else that explains exactly what the problem here is. if there really is something besides "it's clogging up the tag" i will do my best to respect that.

i also want to see what the general response to katie's post about tagging things will be before before i do anything.

i stopped getting as many asks, which i can only assume is because i haven't been responding to them as quickly. sorry, y'all, promise i will. but i've also been taking efforts to try to stagger everything so as not to overwhelm people. so if i do end up posting this in the main tag again, it won't be all in a dump like it used to be. it'll just be a post here and there. i'm going to go back to being someone who mainly posts about like. the story itself.

people who have sent me fics: there are quite a few of you. they likely won't be posted in the next day or so. sorry. spamming me won't make me post them faster. i'm going back to my first come, first serve rule which i have been breaking a bit over the past day or so.

because the majority of people have voted to continue posting in the main tag again, i do plan on honoring that after the twenty-four hours are up. i've also gotten responses by people that, as far as i'm aware, aren't keeping up with any of this at all, and they are also telling me to put it all back in the main tag.

[kazuhaiku]

please read my rules before accessing my masterlist :)

WRITING

↠ i only write fluff and occasionally angst (no promises i suck at writing angst).

↠ to add on to that, i also only write for female or gender neutral readers. i'm not too comfortable in writing for male readers im sorry :(

↠ requests are always open :) make sure to read the rules below to know what i accept and don't accept.

↠ any spoilers of the story lore will be tagged in the notes before the writing.

↠ readers may have different personalities depending on my mood and the flow of the story, so i apologize in advance if it doesn't align with your personality.

↠ no posting schedule! i post and write whenever i want :) it could be one fic per day or one fic per week, depends on my mood lol.

↠ fandoms i write for: genshin, honkai star rail, demon slayer, haikyuu, wind breaker

REQUEST RULES

↠ please stick to only fluff if you can ;') i am terrbible at writing angst but if you do end up requesting angst, i don't mind either (just be prepared for some terrible writing).

↠ please stick to the fandoms i've mentioned above!!! i don't write for any other fandoms except those.

↠ try to be specific but not too specific if you know what i mean.

↠ i write for most of the characters in the fandoms i listed above!

ABOUT ME

↠ i might clog up your dashboard with my constant posting so i apologize in advance.

↠ i will softblock to break the mutual if you have made me uncomfortable (rare occurence tbh). please send me an ask if you are wondering why.

↠ i will block blank blogs. at least add a name or a profile picture.

ASKS

↠ asks are always open 24/7 :) feel free to talk to me as i love talking with my readers and mutuals. don't be afraid to talk to me i don't bite, promise.

↠ if you want to be mutuals, feel free to send an ask and i'll reply to it privately :) but keep in mind that i am selective in my followings.

↠ i'm a terrible at answering my inbox ;') sometimes i see your ask and think i've answered it in my head i'm sorry LMFAO it's been a really bad habit of mine for so long.

↠ if i'm following anyone problematic please do let me know in my asks immediately! i'll block them asap :)

↠ no trauma dumping PLEASE.

DO NOT INTERACT

↠ any age is allowed to read my fics as they are all safe for work, however, i do intend on keeping people who are at least 16+ when talking to me in my inbox (current mutuals don't apply + if i follow first doesn't apply!).

↠ if you're homophobic, transphobic, racist, etc. please leave.

[symphonic-scream]

I'm still gonna do proper au posts for all my AU's eventually but I'm in a certain mood and I follow that dopamine like a starving street dog

So. Here's every Makoto from every Arcana Swap I have.

It will be a long post, but I'm putting the bulk of the content under the cut, I know I clog tags sometimes and I apologize

Anyways. Feel free to talk to me about each of these, ask about the swaps as a whole, and offer suggestions! I enjoy interaction a lot

So. Every Makoto. Under the cut

0 - Fool Makoto (Learning to be Young) {P4}

This Makoto was raised strictly by an aunt after the death of her parents, and has since been kicked out of her home. So, she's reuniting with her older sister, who was kicked out for the same reason many years before. Makoto, during her time in Inaba, experiences what being a teenager is all about. She's only got that final year, but even mysterious murders won't keep her from truly living

Ft no rizz Makoto showing up and having every girl just. Fall for her. Epitome of autism swag meme thing. Has a polyquad in it

0 - Fool Makoto (Doomed Toxic Yuri Swap)

After being arrested for something she didn't do, Makoto is sent to live with her older sister in Tokyo while on parole. She intends to keep her head down so she can get into a good school still, but she can't douse the flames of righteous rage in her heart when she encounters injustice. That anger of hers is what landed her in Tokyo, and it'll be the spark that begins a rebellion in those around her

This one has Justice Haru. And they're in a doomed toxic Yuri. For those who need more than fluff in their lives

3 - Empress Makoto (ACAB swap)

Daughter of the police commissioner, Makoto has her whole future pre-determined for her. Her father has been changing, and won't listen to her about not wanting to follow in his footsteps. She wants to be a mechanic, but... If only she had a way to return home to the man she once knew...

In her confidant, she'd be dealing with grief, but also, reuniting with Devil Sae, and trying to fix her future, get out of the school her father set her up for, and into the courses she wants herself

4 - Emperor Makoto (Gender Thieves)

Second palace is Kobayakawa in this. Makoto is his perfect attack dog, kept under his thumb by promise of scholarships and recommendations. The others make Makoto see that she's being strung along, and she breaks free. And, mega rebels. Rebels so hard they throw out their gender. They/he Makoto. Grunge Makoto

Ft trans boy Haru, and MakoHaru are together from the start in this. A soft prep boyfriend who's scary with a bat and his grunge gruff partner who's scared of the dark

6 - Lovers Makoto (Morg Swap)

She graduated early, finished teachers college, and is doing her one year placement at a middle school. The principal is using blackmail to keep her complicit and silent, making her forget the reason she was so passionate about teaching in the first place

Ft Fool Morgana! It also has a Hermit Haru and Magician Joker, this one I'm real proud of

7 - Chariot Makoto (Chaos Swap)

A classic. In an attempt to stand up against Kamoshida and his abuse, Makoto got beat up, and framed for using physical force to get better grades. An outcast and feared by her peers, this is a punk Makoto all the way. If given the chance, she'd risk it all to save the other students, even after all they've done to her.

This one was my first one it's my favourite. It's also mostly silly goofy so

8 - Justice Makoto (Blood Moon Swap)

The darkest of these. Young, Makoto's mother dies. Her father, never in her life before, appears and informs her it was her fault, and demands she make up for it, following his orders, his little psychic assassin. She's filled with anger; at herself, her actions, her father, at those she's told to dispose of. She shakes with rage, a need to tear down everything around her, make everyone else feel how shitty her life was. Her public appearances as a junior detective are firm, and serious. Proper.

Plot includes the discovery that the Fool, Goro, and Makoto were twins. Separated after the death of their mother. A "what if", since in Makoto's arc they were sort of parallels almost?

9 - Hermit Makoto (Polygirls Swap)

This Makoto watched her parents die. A Good cop, an EMT, trying to help someone, when suddenly they, changed, and walked off of a bridge. She's believed it had something to do with her for a long time, but after she's saved from her own distorted heart, she comes to the conclusion that the "Black Mask" had them killed for planning to report a superior for taking bribes from Shido

This is the Fool Ann and Emperor Haru au where the three are gay and together and gay.

12 - Hanged Man Makoto (Age Swap Au)

Makoto, a former soldier, runs a seedy shop in Shibuya to afford her younger sister Sae's hockey fees. She's still carrying the mental and physical scars from her time in service, but will do anything for her younger sister, even if it means letting the cops do whatever to her so she won't get arrested again

This is adult confidant Thieves, so the main cast of this au are the adults, like Sojiro and Sae and Iwai. The Niijima sisters get along a bit better here

19 - Sun Makoto (Yaoi Swap) {I hate that name}

This. This is just an au where literally they're all guys and theys. Whether it's trans guys, NB, CIS, or demi, they're. All guys. So this is a guy Makoto, captain of the debate team at Shujin, who offers the fool speech lessons in exchange for understanding people better. Makoto wants people to stop being scared of him, and wants to stop fearing people at the same time

Ft Yaoi MakoHaru. It's. Man idk this is a crack au

- Faith Makoto (Uh. I don't have a name for this one)

Trans guy Makoto. Parents died the night he came out, complete accident. So, he's been living as a girl and denying it happened ever since. Only, Makoto is his chosen name. Whoever the Councilor is in this au will mess up and use his dead name and. Big moment

Most of my Makoto's aren't like. Goody. This one is. He'd totally want to be a lawyer. Sweater vest and ties. He's a little gentleman, though he does Aikido, and is gym buddies with Ryuji. Layers

--

ANYWAYS. WHICH IS YOUR FAVOURITE MAKOTO?

[blackwell-academys-airdrop]

Hello. I just want to say that you’re probably one of my favourite LIS accounts here. You’re very funny. Love your work. Stay Hella. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

... You have no idea how much this means to me.

Like seriously. I started this blog in mid-2019 cuz I wanted somewhere to put my doofy LIS incorrect quotes that wasn't my main cuz I didn't wanna clog it up too much. (Which is a bad way to think about your main, but I digress.) I did not expect to get like a thousand followers over the course of a year. And now 2 thousand, even though I've been posting very sporadically over the past couple years now.

I love Life Is Strange. I love it with my whole heart. And I know it's going to break my heart, which is probably why I haven't actually played BTS yet, and why it took me three years to replay the first game. So I guess I try not to think about it. And that's probably why I don't post as much here as I used to or as I'd like to. I still love this fandom, but I haven't hyperfixated on LIS in a goodly while.

I've got projects that I've promised you guys, and some I haven't, and I want to follow through and complete them or at least post what I have of them. WAIT HOLD ON I DID HOST THE THING ON THE PLACE I've gotta find that old post hold on. But before that I'm gonna finish my thoughts here.

I'm working on a lot of things simultaneously, and right now I'm working on a really big non-LIS project that I want to start posting in a couple months. So yeah. Take my excuses as you will. But I promise, I promise with my whole heart, that I will not leave these projects unfulfilled.

...Anyway I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this about me. I'm just so grateful for you, and for your kindness (I've seen you in my notes a fair bit and I love seeing your own posts ^w^), and for the rest of you who leave tags or comments or reblogs or asks or likes or what have you. Even if you just browse without saying or doing anything. Thank you so much.

I wish I had more to show for those of you who've cared enough to stay.

Still.

Thank you.

Stay hella.

[cousticks]

Yo! I'm Cou, like in Acoustic! That's where the 'cousticks' comes from (mind blown, yet?) I'm a whole 21 years old, and would prefer they/it pronouns.

This account is my dumping ground for fandom posting, including analysis, aus (which you can find a list of here), writing, doodles, and more! You can find some of this writing on AO3, too.

I follow back from the url 'causticacoustic', as this is one sideblog of several. Please do not be alarmed by a purple Master Chief icon following you out of nowhere, or leaving asks, that's me!

Minors are welcome, but I'd prefer only my 18+ friends DM me. 18+ mutuals are welcome to my discord, too! Just send me a DM.

I encourage talking to me. Be it via asks (anon or not!), comments, reblogs, DMs, whatever, I love conversation, I'm just a little incapable of starting it, usually.

More blog info below!

Content

This is mostly a BSD blog. In the future it may also contain other media. Vanitas no Carte is probably going to make an appearance eventually, who knows what'll come after that.

Other media interests I doubt I'll post about here include:

the Halo universe

FLCL (only the og. we don't talk about the reboots.)

Portal games

Dishonored games

bad action movies in general

and more!

I also have other non-media interests, but I won't clog this up with them. You should totally ask me about them though.

I don't post or reblog anything NSFW. This is 90% because I don't want to forget to tag something, 5% because I'm ace and don't really need that here, and 5% because I don't want to make this blog a place minors can't go.

Tagging

Honestly, I'm not great at tagging upsetting content. If you need something specific tagged then leave me a DM or ask (anon or not) or something and I'll try my best to keep a running list of what needs tagged and how (I keep a Google Doc for myself for my tagging system and will happily add your needed tags to it). Chances are, you'd be seeing violence or blood. If you're in the BSD fanbase, I'm kind of making a blanket assumption that you're okay with that when you interact around here. If not? Good luck, I guess.

I give all characters their own individualized tags. I'm working on making them all short song lyrics. Please feel free to ask about any tags you see! Characters that haven't been given lyric tags yet are given the tag 'placeholder [character] tag.' If they're an au-specified character, such as from Beast, its specifically 'beast [Character] tag'. I have a handful of AU and/or concept emoji tags. If I ever see it relevant enough, I'll make a key for them.

Drawings are tagged #doodles. 'Personal' not really content posts are tagged #sticky note. More put-together posts I intend to actually circulate in the world are tagged with the fandom and relevant characters / novels, ex. #bsd dazai, #bsd fifteen, etc. People I interact with frequently might find themselves with their own tags as well! Mutuals, please don't think I suck for not giving you a tag or something pretty pretty please. My brain is very tired so I'm limiting it to those that appear often I promise I'm not slighting you personally on purpose.

Asks

I love getting asks. They can be actual questions on my thoughts, chain mail, insults, little gifts, whatever. I don't care. I love them and will treat them all with care. I have anon enabled and will always have it enabled. I'm also a big fan of ask games and have a ton of them tagged under #ask games. Those are all active all the time forever (though if its an older one you'd have to specify) I just like having things to talk about. Please talk to me.

This is very long and says absolutely nothing. Please direct all questions, comments, or complaints to the ask box.

[charlesdesvoeux]

terror rewatch time!!! i'll be using this post to comment on ep. 1 "go for broke" block the tag terrorwatch2 if you'd like :-)

(instead of clogging up you guys' dash I'll just post all my little notes here under the cut):

interesting thing that crozier requests an ice report, and they could've just fetched mr. reid and given it very straightforwardly and objectively, with no fuss. but sir john decided to make it a social occasion, a dinner with the officers, which I think is a tiny but interesting way of illustrating their different priorities (even if we haven't met Crozier yet)

the chat between hickey and the boys is a nice way of introducing the class structure within the ship, and we see hickey already has ideas of questioning this very structure which of course culminate in something very interesting later on as all these boundaries of class and propriety blur as they get closer and closer to doom

"as I climbed the ladder I was thinking of caesar crossing the rubicon" james you're unbearable (affectionate)

i'm thinking about franklin's choice to get David Young to erebus when they could have just sent stanley over. is it lack of trust in Dr. MacDonald? does he not want to inconvenience stanley with having to go to another ship in the cold- instead exposing a sick boy to the cold air of the fucking arctic and dismissing the concerns both crozier and macdonald raise about what this could mean to his health? either way it means that david young died away from his friends who could have provided some comfort for him as he passed.

"after one glance from him I have to remind myself I'm not a fraud" that's exactly what made them so antagonistic to one another at first... when James sees himself through Francis' gaze he's afraid, he's afraid that his construction of the mask of Commander James FitzJames will come crumbling down. but the thing is- it HAS to. it has to come down. they have to reach the end of vanity, the end of all illusions and pretense in order to see clearly and try to survive. and the worst thing is, jfj does reach the end of vanity- but he does not survive.

"you love your men more than even god loves them" "for all our sakes let's hope you're wrong" is this the only moment of self awareness for franklin??? i can't remember any other from my first watch. sir john doesn't love them, not really- his supposed affection is frankly quite shallow and only present when it doesn't inconvenience him. it's not love, it's a performance of "love" that hits traditional beats (affability, a cheery tone etc) but is entirely hollow.

john franklin is a VALOR STEALING BASTARD

goodsir telling david young "you may be a warning of things to come".... it came true in more ways than one.... what with him having both the lead poisoning and the vision from the shaman alerting them to leave...

david young dies: no mother or father will welcome him into heaven; his sister is on the other side of the world; his friends are on the other boat. but at least he may console himself with the promise to see the passage first, and the certainty to have died for the economy.

love the visual parallel established between collins removing the ice from the propeller and goodsir removing david young's organs in the autopsy

the scene where franklin makes The Worst Call™ is so interesting in terms of the dynamic between him, crozier and fitzjames but also. he was never gonna listen to crozier. crozier doesn't fawn over him, doesn't put on the performance of reverence- he's a relentlessly practical man. it wounded franklin's pride. so even in face of what appears to be a very sensible plan he simply will not yield to crozier's judgement. and thus sir john's pride and hubris knocks down the first thing in the rube golberg machine of doom of the franklin expedition.

goooood the way hickey puts up the two fingers at tozer and then hurriedly changes it to a thumbs up. i love you ratman <3

francis' withering look at franklin in one of the last shots. jesus fucking christ

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Sup, I'm using @/ink-ghoul's Hermittober Prompt List this October. I can't promise I'll stick to Hermitcraft, but I won't clog the tag with my exterior fandom stuff should I do that. Also it's totally pitched as a drawing prompt list but shhhhhhh.

Day 1: Frost Ao3 Link

- - -

The Ravenger's Haven't Eaten in a Hundred Years

The tundra was a hard place to traverse. Wide empty, expansive fields of snowfall coved up the ice underneath. Meters thick, travelers had no hope for fish if there were to ever stop moving. The wind howled across the planes, kicking up grainy molecules and sending new fall sideways at times.

But there was light at the end of the tunnel, or perhaps a shadow just beyond the horizon. It loomed in the distance, a mound of ice and snow a hundred meters tall with sheer cliff faces visible to the cold naked eye of anyone who dared make the trek. Grey stone, the only colour for kilometers, lest you count the sky on a scarce clear day, was what stood between foolhardy travelers and their final destination atop the mountain: the Citadel, the last remaining structure of the Tek Dynasty.

Once upon a time, when the planes were greener, the Citadel was built to house the leading members of the Tek Dynasty. It was the crowned jewel of their empire, a symbol for all to witness. Its blackstone walls towered over all that beheld it. The expansive grounds sent a chill trough all those wealthy enough to be welcomed inside. The lighting, well that left something to be desired, but it did a wonderful job at setting the mood.

The Tekkies were a people of redstone. They created machines to transform their raw materials into something more advanced, something worth selling to the rest of the kingdoms on the Hermitta continent. They were a solitary people, not ones to travel outside their borders.

Then the frost came. It settled, and seeped deep into the very bones that held the Citadel up. The people fled, their crop fields unable to grow in such harsh conditions, but the Teks themselves stayed, refusing to leave their homeland behind as the locals left for Scarland.

The Tekkies were welcomed by the Scarians with open arms are warm hearths. They were given food, shelter, and materials to build their new homes, or safe passage anywhere their hearts desured. In exchange, the Tekkies traded their secrets of creation and told stories of home to all those that helped them. Not the ones of opulence, grander, and glory that came home with diplomats when returned from a trip to the Citadel, but the tales passed from generation to generation to generation about their homeland and the people who ran it.

Deep in within the bowels of the Citadel was a dungeon. It spanned four floors beneath the surface and held the Teks’ most prized pets: Ravagers, and they were very hungry.

“Naughty children are sent up to the Citadel to run the dungeon,” they said. “The lucky make it out with new lives, and the rest are never seen again.”

From settlement to settlement, town to town, city to city, whispers of the Tek’s dungeon spread across Hermitta. Then: those identifying themselves as survivors started talking. They said the dungeon was a way to shorten your prison stay should you have been sentenced.

“There’s no equity in sentences, only equality, and if found guilty you are booked for life. A run through the dungeon is the only way out of the cell.”

The survivors spoke of berry bushes in the dungeon, how the Ravagers chased them around. They spoke of how the Tek’s would drink a regeneration potion before running the dungeon for themselves. How they would then walk through the halls of the prison on their way out telling each other about close encounters with Wardens on deep under the ground. No survivor had dared try to get that far down, all preferring to escape with their lives, so none were able to stay with certainty if it were true.

Steadily the snow fell, generations covering what was once the Tek Dynasty until the only thing remaining was the lone Citadel atop the mountain. The Tekkies had all integrated into the society of their new homes, the survivors long gone, but the stories stayed.

“Naughty children get sent through the frost the run the dungeon under the Citadel, the Ravengers haven’t eaten in a hundred years, and the Wardens are getting restless.”

[leatherforhell]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

ㅤㅤI DON'T TAKE INSULTS LIGHTLY by madds buckley ----- concrete cracks and crumbles / foundations turn to rubble / the jaws of death are snapping / the beak of ravens cackling / i break the high and mighty / i don't take insults lightly

ㅤㅤIN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE by hozier ----- his bone exposed / his hind was lame / i raised a stone to end his pain / what caused the wound? / how large the teeth? / i saw new eyes were watching me

ㅤㅤUNDERGROUND by cody fry ----- I woke up underground / not a light, not a sound / threw my voice into the dark / but the dark had no remark / just repeated what i said / claustrophobic at first / struck by hunger and thirst / i stood up and looked around / there was nothing to be found / just a world i couldn't see

ㅤㅤPLENTY by aeseaes ----- we want violence, we want blood / we want superhero love / we want all the answers that you promised us / we want laughter, we want pain / and everyone will know our name / did you know that no two missteps are the same?

ㅤㅤI WAS AN ISLAND by john-allison weiss ----- I was an island before you came along / put your boat in my sand, hand in my hand / your heart in my songs / i was a fighter and i was so brave / but i lowered my sword when you held me and swore / you'd stay, stay, stay / i can't do this alone anymore / 'cause i'm no good on my own anymore / what did i do to deserve this? / what did you do to me? / baby, come back / you know i don't wanna be free

ㅤㅤTHE CALL by regina spektor ----- it started out as a feeling / which then grew into a hope / which then turned into a quiet thought / which turned into a quiet word / and then that word got louder and louder / 'til it was a battle cry / i'll come back when you call me / no need to say goodbye

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

"You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy... because you understand them, and they do not understand you."

"I love you more than my own skin and even though you don't love me the same way, you love me anyways, don't you? And if you don't, I'll always have the hope that you do, and I'm satisfied with that. Love me a little. I adore you."

"I don't think I am allowed to kill something because I am frightened."

"I have been trying, for some time now, to find dignity in my loneliness. I have been finding this hard to do."

"You save everyone, but who saves you?"

"You are your home. Take care of yourself."

tagged by: literally me. i took it from my cress blog bc i love it so fucking much. tagging: @lapinecide @wallcrawld @h0b1e @batcaller @riselazarus @firemourn @tcaleaf @fightwing and anybody else literally whether you follow me or not i don't wanna clog this up by tagging everyone but this is my favorite dash meme pls do it and tag me

[scareqrowbranwen]

let me tell you what you need to hear

I'm glad you're here.

god, it’s been hard. I know it has. it has hurt like hell and some days have felt like you’re pulling yourself through one second after another by your broken fingernails in the dirt. you’re tired. it’s a bone-deep kind of tired that settles in somewhere behind your ribcage and makes breathing feel like dying half the time and it never really seems to go away. but you’re still here. you’re beaten and bruised but you’re still kickin’, trudging one foot in front of the other no matter how heavy those footsteps are. you decided at some point that, goddamn it, if this is rock bottom then things can only get better from here, and you decided to see better for yourself. and so you’ve been clinging onto yourself for dear life and it’s been the hardest thing you’ve ever done but you are one tough motherfucker and you’ve done it. and god, I’m glad you did. I’m so glad you’re here. I know sometimes it feels like no one appreciates how hard it is to just be here, but I do. I know. and it is absolutely amazing how far you’ve come and I’m so grateful you’ve made it. you are so important and your life is so beautiful and it would be such a shame for you to miss it. so keep on pulling forward. I promise it’s worth it.

tagged by: @caeloservare <3 tagging: whomst ever would like to do it uwu

everyone else under the cut so I don't clog the dash lol

you are enough.

I see how hard you’re working. I see how your body aches under the weight of it, how you lose sleep and rub the red out of your eyes in the hopes that they can’t tell how desperately you’re clawing at “good enough.” I know how that dirt feels under your nails, that filth of never being what they want. you’re running yourself into nothing trying so hard to be good for them. but you are already good. you are already enough. you have nothing to prove. you are beautiful and what you bring to the world, what you have to show for the space you take up is perfect. it is enough. you are enough. you can rest. you don’t have to try so hard to be more than what you are. you are, and that’s enough. you’re already perfect.

you matter. yes, you specifically.

yes, the universe is infinite and full of things infinitely beyond our comprehension, and yet, here you are. you, in all your infinite complexity and uniqueness. here, now: you. in an infinite universe it is easy to feel insignificant, but you can’t forget that the likelihood that you would exist at all is unintelligibly small, and yet, just as small and just as grand, here you are. you are here because you are meant to be here. your place in the world is uniquely yours and could never be filled by anyone else. the universe made you because it needed you. yes, you specifically. yes, you are just one microscopically small piece in an unfathomably huge infinity, but you are entirely irreplaceable. you are impossible and you are inevitable and you are beautiful and you are so, so important. yes, you specifically.

it’s going to be okay.

I know it’s not right now. I know it hurts and you’re tired and it’s all so much and you don’t know how to handle it and you don’t want to carry it but you don’t know where can you put it down. I know. I’m sorry. it shouldn’t be this way. you don’t deserve that. but it’s going to be okay. I can’t tell you when or how but I promise it will get better. things can only get better. there will be more love and peace than you can imagine. it is going to be okay. you are going to be okay.