#all of them would be unreliable narrators

[minisugakoobies]

Match My Freak | JWW

Pairing: Voyeur!Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: smut, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, non-consensual use of camera/recording, masturbation (f), use of sex toy (vibrator), mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral sex (f receiving), cumming in pants, unreliable narrator, Wonwoo is not a good guy here (ymmv)

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your neighbor loves it when you put on a show for him.

A/N: Yeah so... I just like the thought of a Wonwoo who likes to watch. 🤷‍♀️

🚨 IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH NON-CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, DO NOT READ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. DO NOT COMPLAIN TO ME - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ. 🚨

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

The sun’s beginning to set when Wonwoo takes his seat in the ratty old armchair by the open window. He removes his glasses, carefully wiping them clean with a cloth he pulls from his pocket before placing them back on his nose. He’s a little early tonight, but it’s fine. He’ll wait. He’s a patient man. 

The minutes fall away like dominoes, each one ticking into the next. The sun dips lower, casting dark shadows over the alley that separates his apartment building from the one next door. A flicker catches the corner of his eye and turns to look, gazing into the window directly across from his bedroom. As he sits quietly, patiently drumming his fingers on the soft cushioning of the chair, a figure enters the room.

Wonwoo has loved you from the moment he first saw you. It’s been a little over six months since you moved in across the way. In all that time, he hasn’t learned what you do or where you’re from or even what your full name is. But it’s fine. None of that matters. 

He’s sure you were made for him.

You walk around your bedroom, following the same well-worn path that you do every evening. Disappearing into your bathroom and emerging a few minutes later in a silky bathrobe. Sitting at the vanity to attend to your skincare routine, gently massaging your beautiful skin with rich creams and moisturizers. Wonwoo appreciates the way you care for yourself. He likes that you have your nightly rituals. He has his own, too.

He reaches for his camera.

It’s late summer, the time of year when there’s no relief to be found at night, the air just as warm and suffocating as it is during the day. Sweat prickles on Wonwoo’s forehead, but he ignores it. He’s glad your landlord is as cheap as his. Air conditioning units would only make this difficult for him. He’d figure it out, of course, but it wouldn’t be as easy as it is now. 

Sometimes he thinks it’s a sign from the universe, how easy this is. Proof that the two of you are meant to be.

He brings his camera to his eye, playing with the focus, until the pretty face reflected in the vanity mirror is perfectly clear. Click-click-click goes the shutter, the only sound that can be heard in Wonwoo’s bedroom, other than his heavy breathing. 

His room is pitch black around him. Wonwoo’s always been comfortable with darkness. It hides all manner of sins. It hides him from your view on nights like this, even when you walk over to your window to lift the sash. A light breeze ruffles the bottom of your bathrobe, exposing more of your thighs to Wonwoo’s hungry eyes. His finger strokes the shutter button again. 

You undo the belt of your bathrobe, letting it fall open, and Wonwoo captures the reveal of the sheer babydoll chemise beneath. It skims the tops of your thighs, not quite covering the matching pair of panties you wear with it. Wonwoo’s gaze roams over your body, admiring the way the clingy material highlights your skin. He loves when you dress up for him. You never bring anyone home. Who else are you wearing these things for, if not him?

Of course, you’ve never acknowledged his presence. That’s part of your game, isn’t it? To display yourself for him but never look at or talk to him. Put on a show but never react to him taking your photo or touching himself. 

He’s very good at playing your game. After all, he wants to win. 

You’re a worthy prize.

You recline on your bed, propped up against a stack of pillows, and start scrolling on your phone. As he watches, shutter clicking, your free hand slides down your torso. Your fingers curl, pressing into your covered pussy, rubbing in slow circles. Oh. Wonwoo swallows thickly. 

It’s one of those nights. 

Silently, he puts his camera down again. Locates the button that switches from photo to video. And clicks it. 

The red light flickers on. 

Wonwoo quickly brings the camera back to his eye, practically cracking his glasses in the process. He fixes the focus, aiming the lens at the hand between your legs. As you start to caress harder, your legs part slightly, giving him a clearer view of your panties. The tiniest swirls of lace are visible to his eye, as is a growing wet spot. He silently thanks the universe that he splurged on an expensive camera model. 

Your nightgown is rumpled up around your waist as you press your hand more firmly against your cunt. It isn’t enough, judging by how you dip your fingers beneath your panties to glide over your slit.

“Come on, baby.” Wonwoo wasn’t planning on adding narration to this recording, but the words slip out anyway, in a low, urgent tone. “Slide them in.” He zooms in again, on the wetness gleaming on your fingertips. 

He’s disappointed when you pull your hand away, but that feeling is short-lived when he sees what you’ve reached for - the bright red toy that you keep under your pillow. It’s long and thick and Wonwoo feels his cock jump at the thought of it spreading you open. 

He could use it to help stretch you for him. 

Swiftly, rather desperately, you shimmy your panties down your legs, and Wonwoo’s mouth floods with saliva, nearly choking him as he stares entranced at your bare pussy. He wants to put his lips on it, kiss it until you’re squirming, pleading for him to slide his tongue inside. You’d make such a beautiful mess of his face. 

His earlier impatience is forgotten now as you work yourself up, dipping the tip of the vibrator in and out of your soaking folds, the quickening rise and fall of your chest letting Wonwoo know how much you’re enjoying teasing yourself. By the time the toy disappears into your cunt, Wonwoo’s just as breathless himself, and hard as a rock. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs, adjusting his lens again to capture the deft movement of your hand. “Fuck yourself for me.” For him, just him, and no one else. 

As if obeying his very command, your hand moves faster, and your mouth drops open in a pleasured gasp. Wonwoo groans. If only he could record the sounds you’re making, too. But you’re not loud enough for his camera to pick them up from here. 

He clucks his tongue. There’s no way he’ll accept such weak noises when he’s the one fucking you. He’ll coax loud cries from you any way he can. 

Your body undulates like a wave, hips canting as you plunge the toy deeper, and something inside Wonwoo snaps. There’s too much distance between you right now. With an aggravated huff, he slips off the chair, kneeling in front of his window. He lets his camera rest on the window sill as he lines up his shot. It’s better. But it’s not enough.

He needs to be closer.

As quietly as he can, he clambers out onto the fire escape. 

He’s taking a risk by being out here. There are no lights in the alley, but the glow of the moon is bright. That doesn’t stop him. He moves silently, crouching against the chipped metal railing, camera peeking through the slots, closing the distance between you as much as he can. 

For now, anyway.

His grip on the camera turns to iron. He’d rather fall off this fire escape than drop it. He glances around the alley, double checking that there’s no one else around. Once he’s reassured that it’s just you, him, and the moonlight, he refocuses - first his mind, then the lens. 

His breathing quickens as the toy slides into your folds again and again. He’s never envied an inanimate object more. He licks his lips, imagining the taste of you on his tongue. You’re not sweet, he’s sure of that. There’s nothing sweet about you, the way you tease him, leaving your curtains open like this. Inviting him to watch. 

Tempting him to do more.

His cock strains against the fly of his jeans, and he drops a hand to his crotch to squeeze himself, biting back a moan. Desire overwhelms him, but he can’t risk jerking off out here. The absolute last thing in the fucking world that he needs right now is to get caught. That would fuck up his plans. That would destroy him.  

Your other hand plays with your breasts, pushing your babydoll up until one is exposed, thumb rolling over and around the nipple. Wonwoo pictures himself there, lying beside you, head bent to take your other nipple in his mouth. He’s not sure he’d be able to hold himself back and allow you to finish yourself off. His fingers twitch at the thought of taking the toy from you and fucking you with it, through orgasm after orgasm, until you’re both drenched in sweat and exhausted.

He shoves the fantasy aside for later and retrains his steady gaze on your motions. He grips himself again when you start to pump the toy in and out faster. Your hips rise to meet each thrust, and Wonwoo might ruin his boxers at the sight. Fuck, he can see through the zoom how soaked the insides of your thighs are. He palms his erection slowly, trying to give himself just the slightest bit of pleasure, not enough to tip it over, only enough to feel good, and that’s when you start to come. 

As he gawks open-mouthed into the lens, your pretty pussy swallows the tip of the toy one last time. Then your hand suddenly lets go, grabbing a fistful of sheets instead. You shudder and writhe, and Wonwoo nearly drops his camera as he loses control too, the wet warmth of his cum spreading in his pants. 

Doubled over on the fire escape and breathing hard, it takes him a moment to regain his composure. Once he’s recovered, he stops the recording, and lifts the camera to his eye again to take another look. You haven’t moved from your bed, but you did remove the toy, and now have one hand tracing lazy circles around your clit. He wonders if you’re going to go again. Some nights you seem insatiable, seeking your high with a fervor that gives him chills to recall.

He’ll make sure you get your fill, when it’s time. 

For now, he’ll keep on watching. 

He’s always been a patient man. 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[jinxed-newyork]

SMOKE & FOG

0.2 The Last Drop

pairing: jinx x reader (romantic), reader x Isha (siblings), reader x Sevika (platonic) 

synopsis: Your injury has led you to the one person you swore you could never trust again. A traitor who has never brought you any good and only harm decides to patch you up but with any good deed comes a price. The only question is will this lead to your sister or just more terror? 

word count: 4.8k

warnings: unreliable narrator (reader), morally gray actions from narrator (reader), villainous activity, murder, oppression, mistreatment, blood & gore, hurt/comfort, drugs & drug use, PTSD, canon violence, suggestive themes, angst, (arcane season 2) spoilers, cursing, fighting, mental illnesses, degrading language towards characters and about characters, indirect Maddie Nolan slander, Caitlyn Kiramman slander 

A/N ; most underlined things have a song that go with them that I highly reccommend you listen to , to get the feel/vibe of what's happening ! the same thing applies for the first chapter but I forgot to tell you . also you guys should send me requests for other things you wanna see me write about while you're waiting on a new chapter.

My legs could only carry me so far, my stomach felt like my insides were seconds away from spilling out. The blood dribbling down my arm made a path no matter where I went, it was sickening, like a retelling of my crimes even though I couldn't remember them. I could hear their cries and screams in the back of my head, but not what led up to them. Grown men’s cries of pain and sorrow wasn’t something that I was used to, I was always the one in pain, the one being kicked into the ground and abused until that got their sick fill of my defeat. I couldn’t cough up any blood, the injury wasn’t deep enough to ruin me but it still felt like it was. I was so worried about Isha but I could feel my body starting to slow, I could feel myself losing it ever so slowly, I went to the only place that I could find. The Last Drop.

This used to be a place of solace and safety, one ran by Vander, the symbol of peace in this lowly town, no matter what he would always be able to cheer you up and now it was overrun by Silco’s old men however one of them was my saving grace. “Sevika!” A tortured cry escaped my throat along with her name. She had to be here, I couldn't hold myself up any longer so she said had to be here. “SEVIKA!” My voice cracked, every octave I never thought possible, my body fell from the wall, the only strength I had was to hold my injury from bleeding anymore.

A gold and brown boot fell into my vision but I couldn’t even lift my head up for a simple greeting, instead I fell flat on my face, I felt warm�� is this what dying truly is? It’s so lifeless, my life didn’t flash before my eyes, I didn’t regret every decision I’ve ever made or see some bright light, I was wondering who was gonna take care of Isha while I was gone. Who was gonna make sure you ate every night and made sure she got home in one piece, who was gonna keep her away from Smeech while I couldn't, who was going to replace me because I was too weak to stay alive and help. 

My eyes opened drearily, the first thing gracing my vision was an unpeeled orange. Oranges are actually my favorite fruit, one of the only good things that people stole from topsiders besides equipment was fresh fruit. Everything in the underground was just a remake of something from topsiders, food that was already on someone else’s plate, clothes that were already on someone else’s back but fresh fruit was the one thing we had and it was delicious. Sure it wasn’t as great as sugary treats or drinks that I was sure all the topsider brats got to have on a daily basis but it meant something.

My hands immediately reached for it, splitting it open down the middle and taking a piece off of the side before letting it into my mouth. This could have been poisoned but I would have died a happy person, because who gives a shit? Within a moment of tasting the sweetness of the fruit, reality hit me like a train– I was bleeding out in the middle of the Last Drop and now I’m.. where the hell am I? This wasn’t the Last Drop, or the back rooms where Vi, Powder and little man used to be, I envied them, every kid in Zaun did. Those little shits got away with murder and Vander always protected them, he was a savior, everyone loved him. All I could do was sigh at the memory of Vander and the others whenever we were younger, Powder reminded me so much of my little Isha, even though she was just a baby, an infant, they were so similar. Not anymore. 

Powder was long gone, so was Vi and Mylo and Claggor and Little Man, every single one of them was gone. Even though “powder” was still in Zaun, she wasn’t truly the same. This wasn’t my concern, I needed to figure out where the hell I was. The air felt thin, a weird greenish color and it was near toxic. Inhaling it felt like I was swallowing sandpaper, my throat was closing up and every cough I hacked out was painful, my eyes were barely able to see through the clearing and I was met with the sight of enforcers, through the clearing all I could see were enforcers. A whole group of them, however one I could recognize without even thinking about it. Caitlyn Kiramman.

A gun raised as she explored the foreign territory and her lackeys followed in suit, they were actually terrifying, all of them, gas masks covering their guilty faces, the swoosh of hair just barely escaping their helmets. A shield plate covering their chest from any harm and yet everyone else down here was stuck with no armor, no masks, no weapons but they were raiding a place that looked similar to an arcade– a child’s place. How worse could they get?  How worse would they be if they catch me? I caught a glimpse, a small glimmer of blue hair, a braid running from the shadow but it escaped my vision long before I could actually see it. I couldn’t worry about this, whether or not that's who I assumed it was, I needed to get out of there immediately. My stomach was still in knots of pain but I still ran, I couldn’t be in there. The last thing I heard was a singular shot let off but my body went in the opposite direction. 

Half an hour later I was stuck with half an orange, two full vials of shimmer and no sister in sight. I was too close to our house to keep the shimmer on me, it wasn’t like my job was a secret to Isha but I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t even know if the shimmer was still in my system, two whole vials of it had gone down the drain or rather injected itself into my skin and I couldn’t even feel it or remember what happened but I knew it was there, I could feel the buzzing under my fingertips. It was a dormant sensation waiting to be reawakened with every step I took but I couldn’t allow it to over take me. “Isha! Isha, I’m home!” I shouldered off my jacket, a hand rubbing over the bandage around my mid area in the cracked mirror. Weak Freak. Blighter. Bitch.

I held my head in my hands, the headache brewing over the cynical thoughts running through my mind, I saw him, the debt collector I killed. I saw him in my mind and behind me in the mirror but whipping around only led to air and the agitation of my headache even more. It was starting to turn more into a migraine, even the lights would irritate me, I couldn’t open my eyes without the lights burning them and my head screamed at me. “Your fault! It’s your fault that I’m dead! You know that right, blighter?” “Shut up!” As the silence finally fell, I remembered my reality, no one was in the house but me, not Isha, or the debt collector or enforcers. Just me. “God fucking damn it, I’m losing my shit.” 

I didn’t remember passing out, I didn’t even remember making it to the scratched up couch that we owned and yet that’s what I woke up on and to my surprise my sister was in the very same room as me, crouched on the floor with scuffs on her face and hands. Rushing over, I stooped down to her level, brushing the caked up dirt out of her hair and dust off of her face. She looked like she had taken a tumble beyond comparison but she was smiling and giggling like an idiot. Her hat was covered in small drawings all over it, pink, blue, yellow and purple streaks of colors splayed all over it, what the hell? “What happened to you? Where have you been?” She completely ignored my question, glazed over eyes as she asked about my whereabouts– signing it, I had to see her dusty and fragile hands ask about where I had been and why I was injured, I couldn’t admit to my sister that I was selling again and I definitely couldn’t say that I had probably killed six people. “Smeech, I pissed him off and we both know that doesn’t end well but I’m fine. It’s a small injury, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.” She frowned, not believing any of my bullshit by a long shot but I tried. I took the hat off of her head, examining it closer, wiping off the small bits of dust that remained.

She shook her head at me, complained that it was purely nothing, it was hilarious how much sass a little girl could have with her hands and facial expressions alone, honestly impressive. I didn’t want to leave her side anymore, I couldn’t after the scare today. I was afraid to even go back and sell, Smeech would want revenge for the debt collectors I may or may not have killed, I still couldn’t recall correctly if that was me. Fuck. I let out a hiss at the memory of me ditching the vials right outside the house, some random mainliner was gonna grab them, that wasn’t the concern to me but if they overdosed on my shimmer then Smeech would know and all hell would rain down like hail as he slowly started fitting the pieces together. An image of Isha being dragged away from me, kicking and screaming, fighting like all hell because she was my sister but still losing, I couldn’t take the sight, my head was hurting, basically killing me, there was no way I could let that happen.

I returned the hat to her head, squishing it down enough to cover her eyes as a joke waiting as she pushed it back up with an unagitated glare. “We don’t have any food for tonight, so I’m gonna go get some, alright? I just need to make a little bit more money and there will be enough for both of us..” I sucked in a breath as I looked at her. “If I can’t make enough for two then you can get whatever you want, alright? I’ll be right back, shouldn’t be wrong.” Her small frame ran towards my leg, launching herself onto me and not letting go even whenever I tried to shake her off like a bug. “Isha! Isha! Come on, you gotta let me go! I gotta go!” I would never yell at her, more groans of annoyance at a normal tone, one of her hands released its grasp to sign to me once again. “Promise me you’ll come back. Promise.” Gods, this little girl, she was gonna be the death of me.

“I’ll do you one better, I swear. I swear to every deity in this realm that I will make it back home to you, Isha. I don’t care what happens as soon as I leave this house, I will make it back to you.” I wiped the small tear from her face and planted a kiss on her forehead (a little hard with that helmet of hers but I wasn’t gonna tell her to remove it) , rubbing her cheeks and she finally released her grip and with that I made my way back out into the city– and I will keep my goddamn promise. 

Never in my life did I ever think that I would be going toe to toe with a mainliner for some shimmer that I didn’t even want and yet here I was, getting the shit beat out of me by some random hash-head with a bone to pick because I saw the shimmer the same time that he did. Goddamn it! Why did I even leave the house? The shimmer was a lot further than I remembered and now I was reeling the consequences of my actions, with a kick towards the man’s torso, I felt stronger than I usually do but the feeling was shortly replaced as he flew away from my body and his sudden missing force sent me backwards directly onto the ground. Man, I am just having a shit day today. Dusting myself off, I made it back to my feet, scoffing as I took a look around at the scene before me, I did all this for one vial. What's gonna happen when I find the second one? If I even find it. 

“Hey! Are you ok over there?” God fucking damnit. Hiding the shimmer behind my back I turned towards the voice, another group of enforcers however one of them was injured, I had only been outside for an hour and a half maybe two, I lost track of time but still that wasn’t enough time for a group of enforcers to get jumped unless there was something else going on in town that I wasn’t aware of. A ginger haired girl poked her head out from the light in the alleyway towards me, my eyes looked bloodshot because I couldn’t recall the last time I had slept or had water or a full meal. Hiding my face with a glare towards the ground, I tried to sneak glances at them, a weird blue looking guy was holding up a bulkier man, there was no way I was gonna win a fight if he was gonna be my opponent, it didn’t matter how much shimmer I had in my body, he could body slam me no problem– it also didn’t help me that I didn’t really know how to fight, I just swung my hands and eventually they would hit something or someone. “Hey, sweetheart, are you ok?” Why did she have to call my sweetheart? It was so much more..demeaning, degrading me in such a way, like she was taunting me. The lick of her accent only dealing more pain to the wound, Piltover, every single one of them assumed the worst of anyone down here and the fact that she was an enforcer? God I would never live it down if she found me with shimmer, hell she might even kill me on the spot, so my only option? “Fine. That.. crackhead tried to steal my money. He succeeded, I’m pretty much out.” I lifted my face, so that she could see me, injuries from my other fight still visible, her face reacted but not her words however the two behind her seemed impatient, whispering about her needing to hurry up. She rummaged through her jacket pocket and dropped some coins in my hand, plenty for me and Isha, god they were so easy. With a wave she ran back to her little group, a scowl on the man’s face as he looked at me, at that point hiding the shimmer didn’t do me any good and they were leaving and injured as well, were they really gonna stop for me? 

That ginger haired enforcer gave me plenty enough for me and Isha, maybe even a little bit more however I still needed to get rid of this shimmer– I needed to at least prove to Smeech that I did sell my products and didn’t just lose it (which is exactly what I did). I owed him nothing, absolutely nothing and yet here I was still trying to pay off my dwindling debt..a debt that was definitely going to have some “added fees” as soon as he figured out that it was me. My eyes glazed over the sky, a blanket of dimming sky had fallen over, then again I could barely see anything due to the glaze of the smoke, it felt like the smoke from earlier however it wasn't as thick so it was just barely breathable. My hand flew over my mouth, a small attempt to filter the trashed air, as soon as I made it through the smoke I could see Piltover in my wake, one day Isha would be up there, she wouldn’t be stuck down here with anyone else, she would be trusted and respected and no one would where she came from because I’d erase any existence of her being in Zaun, for her own safety, for her future. 

My thoughts were shattered, not because of the shimmer this time, but because the ground began to shake, the gas in the alleyway being dragged outwards towards god knows what. I thought it was a monster or a vacuum until Piltover was painted pink, blue, purple and green, the colored smoke staining buildings which I could see even from where I was. Children started giggling, running around and celebrating the defaming of Piltover’s “perfect” picture. I couldn’t stop the smile that was shown on my lips– gaze trapped on the smoke until it dissipated. “Jinx! Mommy she’s back, it’s Jinx!”  Jinx? Two run ins in one day would be crazy, right? I ran into the enforcers that she murdered earlier today and now I’m watching her plans play out in front of me. I've only seen her a few times in my entire life but she was enrapturing every single time, her mind was near genius, something that no one ever appreciated or acknowledged but I saw it, I noticed it, granted that meant nothing to her since we had never met but still. She’s actually the one who got me into creating my own trinkets. Isha took a liking to it as well, perhaps I should start to tweak them a bit more. Focus. If Jinx was up to no good then I was pretty much screwed– Isha. I left her at home and promised that I would be back, no I didn’t promise, I swore that was more important than any promises I could ever make. I sprinted back home but I’m not sure why I even got my hopes up. She was gone, she didn’t leave anything behind, damnit maybe I should have made her swear that she was gonna stay here, not that I was gonna come back. 

My unfortunate first thought was to check wherever Jinx was, thanks to that colorful display she couldn’t have been that far. I didn’t really know where her “hideout” was, I just knew where Silco used to do business since it was pretty hard to hide such a renovated building and it’s been abandoned ever since his death a few months ago.. To be honest Silco gave me more hope than Vander ever did but once he fell down the wrong rabbit-hole and created shimmer, I lost confidence in every new “symbol of peace” that popped up every few months, except Jinx.

Something about her was.. interesting, it was like she never wanted to be a symbol but everyone kept treating her like one, some may say it was just her being humble but I know better. It was being stuck with a responsibility you never asked for and every single person who was supposed to lead you and show you how it works is gone and now you’re forced to figure things out on your own and everyone is depending on you. It’s how I felt when our parents died, the responsibility to take care of Isha was killing me inside. I never even wanted another sibling, I just wanted to be an only child, we were struggling enough as it is and dad was always sneaking out. When he returned he reeked of Piltover, of their lavish perfumes, exotic smells and fancy food, we both knew that what he was doing wasn’t good but he was all that we had so we couldn’t just let him go because of some.. Piltover woman who stole his heart from my mother.

I couldn’t find it in my heart to call him the traitor that he was, not even mom did it, if anything she looked worried for him every time he got back from Piltover, stealing him away with hushed whispers. I could never really hear what they were talking about, I just assumed that they didn’t want to fight in front of me but I was a big girl, I could handle it, I didn’t need them to treat me like a scared child. 

Now here that scared child was again, clutching my shirt away from my skin like it would save me from whatever horrors were inside of this building, I expected dead bodies in the corners, people’s heads on the gate as a warning or a beware, instead it looked like a normal building but with a lot of lights on the outside. I shoved the front door open, it seemed locked but this place was clearly abandoned so it's not like there were any guests hiding inside– besides the ghosts that is.

It was freezing in there and the temperature only felt like it was dropping the further I moved, the slow movement led me to an office room, an uncomfortably dusty chair was hidden away by the even worse looking desk. It was very uncanny, I could play out Silco turning around in his chair in front of me despite the fact that I have never met the man face to face. “Well, don't you clean up nicely?” The rasp from her voice made me jump, my head swinging in every direction to find out where it came from, she sounded like she was behind me, and beside me all at once– turns out she was just beside me. 

“Sevika– mara, you could at least announce yourself?” There was a brand new arm that adorned her, gold in color but drawings all over it in those same, now traumatizing colors, and a slot machine to go with it, wasn’t she an addict? “What are you doing down here, blighter?” I hated that term and she knew it, it was definitely just to get under my skin but it worked every single time. “Looking for my sister.” She shouldered a laugh. “I was wondering where your other half was. My personal favorite out of the two, she doesn’t complain as much.” I rolled my eyes, she was mute, she didn’t verbally complain about anything but I guess just shutting up is what gets you favored by Sevika. “We found her aright, Jinx caught her trying to get away from some of that rat’s ol’ debt collectors. That your doing?” I mentally cursed however my body showed my disdain from the way I deflated. “I… I didn’t mean to. Damn it, it wasn’t my fault. A group of enforcers came out of nowhere and jumped the shit out of me and some other sellers. It’s how I got this–” I lifted my loose shirt to show her the wrapped up injury,  she grimaced and looked away from it as if she wasn’t interested in it but hadn’t she already seen it before? Why was she acting like this? “Wait, weren’t you the one who bandaged me up? You’ve already seen it, why are you asking me what happened?” Her head turned back to me and her eyebrow raised as she stood up and walked towards me. I’m not a pussy but I know a fight that I can and cannot win and she is someone I can’t fight and win. “No. I haven’t seen you since last year.” “Then.. I went to the Last Drop, looking for you. Who helped me if it wasn’t you? I saw your shoes..” Sevika groaned loudly and took off, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to follow behind her but I did. 

It looked like an abandoned air ventilation system, however it was decorated with the same drawings that I saw on Isha’s hat when she came home and the one’s on Sevika’s arm– Jinx? Isha noticed me before I noticed her, running immediately over to me and hugging onto my leg, tears filled my eyes as I looked at her. I didn’t think she was dead but my hopes of her being alive and well weren’t very high at the moment. I clutched onto Isha’s side, tears filling my eyes, I had almost her twice in one day and it was enough to give me a heart attack– it didn’t help that both times I thought I lost her ended with Zaun’s symbol of “peace” and psychopath who was also the most alluring woman I have ever met in my entire life.

God damn it Jinx.  She scowled at me, an eyebrow raised at my presence, that seemed to be happening more often than I would have liked it to. “Enforcers, they jumped the shit out of me and almost killed me. I would have never left her alone if it wasn’t for those bastards.” Isha’s inaudible giggle was below me as she signed the word for “shit” and I lightly slapped her hand away, kids are so bad. Jinx’s eyes didn’t seem to waver, forever staring into my soul as if she was gonna rip my throat out with her teeth for even touching Isha– like she wasn’t my sister. “Looks like you didn’t do a very good job.”

 Her gaze went towards my stomach and I wanted a hole in the floor to open and swallow me up, her surveying my body was so intimidating and intimate that it began to breach the lines of uncomfortable. “I killed those enforcers ok? I killed them and the stupid debt collectors in that goddamn alleyway. There are six people dead and it’s all my fault so can I get a little grace here?” I almost yelled at her, who was she to tell  me that I was a bad sibling? A bad protector? “You left her!” She seemed to stalk closer to me with her every word. “At home! She was never supposed to be on the streets in the first place but if she didn’t leave the house like I told her not to then we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” My words were directed towards Isha but my anger was shot directly at Jinx, so much she almost choked on her words. “But you still left me!” “I didn’t mean to! I went to hell and back to get back home to her!” I was so entranced by my own fit of rage that I didn’t even notice her change of words. She wasn’t talking about Isha, she was talking about herself, but I had never left or even met Jinx personally besides this one point. She had just been a whisper in the crowd, a terrifying sight that Silco had created that he guarded as if she was actually his own daughter. It was sickening to hear but it was none of my business. We both just sat there, heaving chests and ignoring the tears that were threatening to slide down our cheeks, the only reason I looked away from her was because Isha tapped my thigh. “We were fighting the enforcers, the one with the blue hair almost shot us!”  Us? Us Us?! My eyes flicked up towards Jinx, invading her personal space without a care in the world, pushing her back up against some makeshift desk, she could have stopped me if she wanted to but didn’t. 

“You let Isha get close to Caitlyn Kiramman? You almost let her get shot by Caitlyn Kiramman?! She’s a fucking child! Do you have any restraint at all or are you just that evil that you can’t even help yourself but enjoy chaos? And why the fuck did Caitlyn Kiramman almost shoot you?” At my last question I spun towards Isha, I didn’t actually know anything about what was going on, I just knew that she almost shot my sister and that was enough to go off on anyone around. “The kid was protecting Jinx. Jumped on top of her and wouldn’t let go of all hell, Caitlyn and Vi were trying to kill her– your sister didn’t want to let that happen.” Oh. Well now I felt like a fucking idiot, Jinx was going through hell and I just blamed her for everything without even asking, however she could have clarified or at least said something while I was standing in front of her– why hadn’t she moved? I turned my head back to her to apologize but she bombarded me with a hug so fast I almost fell over, those tears from earlier finally over took her, wetting the top of my already ruined shirt. I didn’t know how to respond, I just awkwardly wrapped my arms around her as she snuggled into my neck. “You came back to me.” 

taglist: @livinginabasement @llycrow @katethejinxwife @hank-girl @ayedomino0 @jiunxo @vivispace @maksysti @jinxslapdog

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Man, I’m watching Pearl’s Wednesday VOD and just. She’s talking about the Life Series. About how she needs to stop seeking Gem out because she’s looking desperate and obsessed. And then she mentions that everyone has their own idea of the narrative, even the Lifers. She says Scott always brings up the powdered snow, and she forgot about the axe crits but people in her comments have been reminding her that that was BEFORE the powdered snow. And just. I think all this is up your alley. The Scott and ace crit comments are at about 1 hour 49 min in the vod btw

this is a great ask bringing really intriguing information. i’ll be honest normally i’m always tuned in for hermitcraft streams, but i didn’t really bother this week because i was consuming so much caitvi content buried deep on ao3 i might actually drop dead

anyway. hmm. i love how pearl always checks for fandom reaction to decide what’s the most entertaining route to go, or deciding to drop or pick up a storyline. you can kinda tell because when she argues with scott she always has new material. basically she’s one of the lifers (like martyn or gem) who has consciously and explicitly thought about her character’s story, which is why her povs consistently deliver. she’s aware that she’s an unreliable narrator and so is everyone else she interacts with, so she doesn’t hold back on being unashamedly biased.

the gem comment is kind of funny because considering how active pearl is in the fandom, she should’ve known what type of reaction WL session 5 would elicit. still. what is our gal if not desperate and obsessed.

don’t even bring up the axe crits omg— i was wondering if she’d genuinely forgotten about them, especially the number of times she’s gone along with the very strongly prevailing fanon that pearl started it (even if it was scar’s idea). as a dl!pearl apologist it’s the strongest argument: that it was scott who chose to elevate the animosity, that it was pearl who yelped in surprise when her hearts went down a notch at the start of DL episode 2.

i’ll check the vod out (thanks so much for the timestamp)

[fandom-puzzle-peaces]

Just a Thought About Cale Part 2

It hath been requested, so here is a sort of continuation from my last post. Today I am gonna talk more about what I believe Cale embodies:

HOPE & LOVE

In my first post I already talked about hope a bit, and ya’ll can read that if you want my full take on this, but I will continue where I left off. Last time, I mentioned that something was missing when I listed out what it is exactly that Cale hopes to have in his “slacker life.” Said list is:

A nice house

A peaceful place to have said house in

A ton of money

After looking at this you may be wondering what is missing, since it looks like everything Cale has stated time again to want is already there. However, we all know how unreliable of a narrator he is and that he never actually fully says what he wants unless it’s money. What is missing is his hope of having a family living there with him in that nice peaceful house.

It’s so obvious that he misses having others around him, regardless of how many times he denies it. He’s just scared of losing them again, and for a time I do genuinely believe he had given up on that hope of having loved ones. But over the course of his new life as Cale Henituse you can slowly but surely see that hope being rekindled. It also helps when he learns that the “curse” that was accidentally placed on him due to white star shenanigans is now gone.

So now he actually has a chance to be able to keep his new family around, and you better believe he will do anything in his power to do so. We have already seen plenty of his self-sacrificial stunts to know this fact already. Cale’s list of hopes, of course, has continued to grow from just those beginning 3 that encompass his “slacker life,” and most likely will as time goes on to most likely include the simpler pleasures of life he can indulge in with his family.

A true family man I would say!

Now, regardless of how many hopes he has (or how small they may seem), Cale is someone who is full of hope and in turn fills others with it as well. So where does Love fit into our beloved idiot you may ask? Look at all of the people he has surrounded himself with and how he interacts with them. He may say he's "trashy" and a "bad person," but we all know he isn't with how he acts. Cale is highly perceptive of his family’s condition, their wants and needs. He goes out of his way, all the time, to make them happy:

He gives the children sweets and cuddles all the time

He gave Raon his name

He gives Rosalyn whatever she needs for her research and is helping her become the Magic Tower Master

He visits Alberu all the time and just hangs out, which must be such a relief to shed the royal persona (even if Cale does steal his cookies)

He lets Ron mess with him even though he hates it and helps him take back his ancestral home

Always eats everything Beacrox gives him and compliments it (probably also gives him new kitchen tools and ingredients to mess with as well)

He gave Eruhaben a reason to live longer and extended the dragon’s lifespan—and went through one hell of trial to do it—so he could do so (said reason being to live with them for as long as possible)

He gave Mary the world to experience and explore to her heart's content

Took in Lock and his siblings and just lets them be kids, albeit very violent ones

He got Choi Han a new sword (which he treasures), as well as a new home and family (which he treasures even more)

That's not even counting all he does for the others and his allies. But most of all, Cale protects them:

He never puts the kids in a situation where they can be hurt

Even when one of them was in harm’s way (Raon), he bodily shielded them not once but twice

He carried Rosalyn (with his weak noodle arms) when she couldn't stand out of harm’s way

He keeps Alberu's heritage a secret and helps him politically

He literally blew up an island for Ron

I don't think he's had a big moment for Beacrox yet, but he has saved him from the fate of living in a world without his father

Has shielded Eruhaben before from the White Star

Like the kids, Mary is almost always out of harm's way and he also protects her politically

Has shielded Lock during the Battle at the Gorge of Death

He protected Choi Han from completely losing it, as the biggest danger to Choi Han is Choi Han himself

Cale loves his newfound family so much he speedran the war with White Star in UNDER A YEAR!! And that's just for his family! You cannot tell me he hasn't also fallen in love with his new (well what was supposed to be his really) home world. He is literally tracking down and annihilating the Hunters who are in other worlds because they keep going after his in part 2. Don't tell me that isn't love! It also doesn't help that, no matter how much he denies it, Cale gets attached fairly easily. He wants people around him to love who love him in return.

GIVE THIS MAN SOME HUGS!

Anyways, I think I have rambled long enough. Hope ya’ll enjoyed this!

Brief interest check: how would ya’ll feel if I posted some creative prompts for writing, drawing, etc.? Lemme know however you want.

@elaemae hope you liked it!

[baphometsss]

thinking about it, the way solas thinks about/remembers mythal hits really close to home for me

when someone dies, especially if they die prematurely, there's a tendency for those who survive them to kind of... look at them through rose tinted glasses. i had this experience with my brother, who died when he was 22 and very unexpectedly at that. because he died before i really had a chance to spend much time with him (i was 11), i missed out on all sorts of things. both my family and myself have a tendency to ignore all his flaws and the bad things he did because we miss him and wish he was still around to be flawed and do bad things. because then at least he would actually be here.

i think this is what solas is doing with mythal, although it's complicated from their trauma bond and the somewhat abstract way the first elves experienced emotions. it's true what (davrin?) says -- when someone dies before you have a chance to tell them all the things you want to tell them, it stings. mythal and solas had a complicated relationship, and solas really wanted to believe that she would join the rebellion one day. she never did, because of her own pride and refusal to give up godhood, and bc she believed too well in her own ability to control the evanuris from within. to join the rebellion would be like admitting defeat, something she could not do because, as morrigan says, she can't tolerate being wrong. by his own admission, she betrayed him by joining the evanuris. then she died before they had a chance to really iron out their issues, and because solas rebelled against her (in his mind, failing her), it messed with him badly.

so he doesn't allow himself to be angry, because if he really loses it with her (the way he did with the rebel mages in his personal dai quest), what the hell is he supposed to do with that anger? there is no one to direct it at, except the world and himself. he himself is the easiest target, because he already carries so much guilt and shame over the things he's done. but he does direct it outward too. that is at least in part what he's doing when he wants to tear down the veil--not just for mythal, not just to 'repair' his past mistakes, but because he is simply angry and frustrated, too, which blocks his wisdom. and yet, he doesn't feel he has a right to that anger, even though he really does when you think of all the things mythal put him through. he cannot be angry until he has corrected his mistakes he made in failing her.

it's not surprising that he puts her on a pedestal. you do that when you're grieving and hate yourself that much. that's why his perspective is so warped, and why he's an unreliable narrator when it comes to mythal. like i loved my brother, but my recollection of him will always be coloured by his death.

mythal was not the great mother goddess of legend and she was likely not really the person solas portrays her as either. the fragment in morrigan is closest to who the legends portray her as, but it isn't the only part of her either. she was very flawed, and petty, and all the things solas described the evanuris as being. she was a monster in her own way too. but when you're surrounded by far worse monsters, you come out looking okay. that's essentially all mythal had going for her: she wasn't as much of a monster as she could've been.

it speaks volumes about solas's 'grim and fatalistic' outlook when you consider that. the more you learn about solas's past, the more you realise how important the inquisition was to him, how helpless he would've been to have bonded with these mortals who were so free in their goodwill and determination to build a better future--something that was severely lacking in elvhenan.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #61 – Mammoths at the Gates by Nghi Vo

This is the latest in my now-extremely-belated attempt to read all the nominees for Best Novella from this year’s Hugos (only need to hunt down a copy of Seeds of Mercury somewhere now!) It was a well-done, enjoyable read – nothing to change your life but, frankly, would have been far more deserving of the prize than Thornhedge was.

This is the fourth in the Singing Hills Cycle, following the itinerant archivist-monk Cleric Chih as they travel across a vaguely Chinese fantasy setting collecting histories and folktales to be collected into the monastery archives. After nearly three years walking the earth, they return to the titalur monastery itself to discover Cleric Thien, a very senior cleric and their own mentor, has died in the intern. Of more pressing concern, two members of their family are outside the gates – one of them a corporal in the Imperial Army with her command of two war-mammoths – demanding their body turned over to buried with their family and ancestors instead of interned in the monastery catacombs. And if that wasn’t enough of a complication Myriad Virtues, Thien’s companion neixin, has been driven to self-mutilation and a total withdrawal by her grief. It is, needless to say, an eventful funeral.

For all that, it’s not a particularly exciting novella, let alone an action-packed one. It’s very much, and very consciously, About Grief in a few different ways. Compared to earlier stories in the series, the narrative is far simpler, with none of the playing around with framing devices, unreliable narrators, or stories-within-stories that have kind of been the cycle’s trademark until now. The freed up space is instead used to make Chih far more of an actual character than they have been previously, rather than just a cipher to experience the narrative happening around them.

I do find myself slightly annoyed at the book because having set out such a genuinely messy and compelling conflict – both on the level of ‘who gets to decide what funerary traditions to follow and where the body is kept, the religious institution or the aristocratic family?’ being the sort of thing that has absolutely started wars, and with ‘who decides how someone should be remembered and grieved, their family or the people they choice to build a life with’ being a theme with a certain amount of contemporary resonance even without the whole thing where clerics are universally refereed to as they/them and Thien’s granddaughters kept insistently referring to them as a man – the book gave itself an easy way out on several different levels. But that’s just me being irritated it isn’t a different story entirely – this is a gentle, elegiac story; the central emotion is the melancholy of quietly organizing a loved one’s things after they’ve passed. On that level it works quite well and is even beautiful at points.

I’ve said before that this series would adapt near-perfectly into a high budget miniseries with a 40-60 minute episode per novella, and I stand by that. If anything, it feels like it’s only getting more true. It does feel like a bit of a loss, though – maybe I’m remembering it as more than it was, but I think Empress of Salt and Fortune had a level of thematic and narrative ambition that all of its sequels have kind of lacked. This and Into the Riverlands especially feel like they exist in a different and...shallower? Simpler? Clearer? Register than the first two entries in the Cycle.

Ah well. It would have to far a long way before it was even in the conversation for most disappointing book I read because of a Hugo nomination. On balance, lovely read with a dog cuddled up beside you on the sofa.

[runningoncaffeine]

One mistake I made when reading ORV for the first time was taking Dokja’s words at face value.

When the shitty idiot(affectionate)dismissed his trauma, assumed he understood the other people and their feelings I took it as he said. What he said I believed.

Now that I’m rereading, I realise just how much of an unreliable narrator that little bastard(very affectionate) is!!! Like I now know why Heewon did what she did! Lock that bastard up, I get you completely now Heewon sweetie. Yup, yup, he needs to get socked a few times in the head

[qiu-yan]

in MDZS the novel, the innkeeper in Yunping mentions that people are too scared to go petition Yunmeng Jiang for help because someone once walked in on Sect Leader Jiang whipping a guy in the main hall, supposedly because the guy was a demonic cultivator.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

How do you think the Nora/Peter/Eva triangle was resolved after the war?

Honestly, I favor a world where Peter and Eva are close friends and coparents, but that's it. As much as I want to believe in them for Marco's sake, Peter implies in #15 that he liked fake!Eva better than the real thing and states outright in #45 that he'd rather be with Nora. We see Peter and Eva getting along well in #46 - #53, but we don't actually see evidence of them being together as a couple, and their rekindling is partially based on a lie Marco told about Nora.

Throw in the fact that Eva's "a different person" after being controllerified for so long (#45), one who is not particularly nice but is certainly assertive. Throw in the "disgustingly affectionate" interaction we get between Peter and Nora in #35, #40, #45. Throw in the implication that Peter had never washed a dish or swept a floor in his life before Eva "died", and that Marco had to take over those jobs for years after. I think it's better for everyone (sorry Marco) if Peter stays married to Nora after the war.

[rivercule]

One thing I will say. There’s no way the penthouse shit went down like that. “Hey I’m gonna leave you here with this guy who could easily kill either of us and has every reason, as far as I know, to want you dead. Don’t worry I sternly told him to leave you alone. Oh wait he turned you into a vampire? Yeah I’m sure that was uneventful. Not sure that qualifies as hurting you either so I think we’re all good.”

They’re definitely going to revisit that.

[purpleshadow-star]

I saw a post saying that Nora bashes on therapy all throughout aftg and generally casts it in a bad light, and I was just like ??? Like, did we read the same books? Because it's made abundantly clear that most of the Foxes love Betsy and don't mind their required therapy sessions, and Andrew literally goes to therapy and visibly benefits from it. He chooses to go back even after he doesn't have to! Even Aaron comes around eventually after we learn that he didn't like it. It's literally only Neil who shows such a dramatic distaste for it, but even then, he still trusts Betsy to help Andrew and Aaron!

So I don't know what books they were reading, but to me, I think aftg actually showed therapy in a pretty positive light, even with the fact that the literal main character didn't like it. Like, not everyone likes the idea of therapy, that's just realistic, and if any character in aftg wouldn't like it, it's Neil, who had so many secrets to hide. And yet, despite that, we still see multiple characters obviously benefit from therapy and Betsy.

[zeb-z]

Bad has so many reasons to be cautious, even paranoid, as anyone else on the island. From Federation nonsense to Dapper being kidnapped to the whole purgatory nonsense to whatever fuckass suit of armor “old friend” was setting up cameras in his house. But it compounds on his regular overly aware paranoid self to this state of hyper-paranoia. And as a demon who can and usually will lie, cheat, steal, and use sneaky underhanded tactics, he expects the craziest extent because he thinks of it, realizes it’s possible, and would use it himself. We saw this very obviously in purgatory - when he thought greens desperate last ditch effort to balance the scale was a super planned out tactic to tip the scale, so he did it first, all the hardcore base hunting, the spawn killing, there’s a reason every other tactic he used usually followed a main channel qsmp post with updated rules - all usually things he was surprised no one else thought of. But then this also piles onto the fact that he has to have things go his way, all the time, and that he’s argumentative as all get out, which led to the debate between him and Bagi yknow. Especially because he’s not just doing it for the sake of being right, he doesn’t think he’s paranoid, but that he’s exercising the right amount of caution.

So like. Listen dude. Yeah he’s got reasons to be paranoid. But his thought process around building vaults for separate cookie caches like they locked up the risus pills, only to scrap it because it’s not perfectly impenetrable, is extreme. His character has hardly been a leading example in someone who has reasonable reactions to things. And even when there isn’t his own children’s livelihoods potentially on the line, he has a need for control, and the most control he has is if he keeps the cookies in his inventory at all times. If he makes himself the sole point in which the others can get ones in a case of emergency, then he can control the variables. The problem is he’s unreliable about himself when he’s at his most rational and healthiest, and he’s far worse with the current memory and health issues he’s been mostly unaware of.

I dunno it’s like. There is never going to be a purely impenetrable base. And it’s not just a case of “Bagi just hasn’t lived through __ yet!”. Bad’s own logic about keeping the cookies on him at all times is flawed under his own logic, because Bagi is right - if someone has enough drive to break into separate secured cookie caches purely for the downfall of eggs, they more than certainly have enough drive to find a way to kill Bad and just take them from his inventory, or to just kill the eggs themselves. All it truly does is give Bad a sense of control, and soothe his paranoia.

[ruvviks]

what is the event/main cause that made roksana cut her mom off?

now this is interesting to talk about because it would be a very gradual process spanning over many many years but it would all come to explode during the events of the broker, despite that fic focusing on vitali; the events of that fic affect his whole family even though it doesn't elaborate much on the effects on his siblings. i initially had several chapters dedicated to roksana but had to cut it short and put it all in one chapter only but when i go for the rewrite i'm putting all of the initial ideas back because it's IMPORTANT. she and vitali are so similar in so many ways but also not at the same time. anyway ok yes here we go

so for roksana specifically she's kind of been a background character in the family ever since she was young. you'd think that after two other kids her parents would know how to parent her correctly but instead they just kind of let her do her thing and she got away with everything, which was nice in a way because it gave her freedom within the house itself but outside of that there was just nothing there for her. with the whole world to her disposal but nobody there with her to help her or keep her company through it all life just got suffocating to her in a way :(

she felt trapped in her family and her brothers always got the spotlight (mostly negative attention, since mainly their mother nadya was always just angry at vitali and after vitali left home daniil just kind of became her new therapist; but roksana did not really pay attention to this, all she saw was her brothers getting attention and not her), so roksana ended up fitting herself into all the boxes her parents wanted her to be in just to get some attention from them and get the love that she deserved. she was the family's poster child, but at the same time this whole role was an act of her, acting the way people expected her to act to get some respect and it was actively chipping away at her psyche, it stopped her from actually growing up and becoming her own person if that makes sense?? her personality was just fabricated specifically for her parents. but that's not who she was or wanted to be. but she knew nothing else

roksana and her father matvey have always had a very professional relationship. he was always busy with work and didn't do a lot of parenting so roksana came to see him more as a guy who lived under the same roof as her rather than her father; in the broker this escalates with matvey seeking revenge against vitali and roksana getting dragged into it and becoming a messenger girl in it all, but by then she's entirely neutral towards her father so there's not even bad blood between them when she stops talking to him; he's just a stranger to her. this is what much later allows her to hesitantly come back after vitali and matvey have made amends to try and build up that relationship again

roksana and her mother nadya however are a different story. the main difference is that roksana always hoped that nadya would understand; that she would understand the position roksana was in and understand her anger and her misery and her sorrows and regrets and that she would try to make it easier for her, give her some relief from the burdens she had to carry. but nadya refused to listen to roksana and refused to take her seriously (much like how she had always treated vitali; important to note that vitali is a trans man and to nadya he was still "her daughter"), not allowing her to show any sort of weakness because she herself had by then long killed her own weaknesses within herself and she expected roksana to do the same

and nadya got what she wanted. roksana grew up a cold and bitter woman, she let her anger win (contrasting vitali who after all this time STILL chooses kindness; if the roles for him and roksana had been reversed, though, he would have turned out the same as her, but the contrast and parallels between vitali and roksana is a story for another time) and she knows it's nadya's fault and she HATES her mother for it. she hates what nadya turned her into and she hates that she never got a normal childhood and she wants nothing more than to get out of there. this is why she vanishes from night city after her appearance in the broker fic, and why initially it is entirely unclear if she'll ever come back

so basically to summarize, nadya robbed roksana of her childhood and her softness and her ability to become her own person by forcing her to be the poster child of the family, and in classic dobrynin family fashion roksana tends to take grudges to her grave, so i don't really see her forgiving her mother for it any time soon. add to that the fact she sees nadya as the cause the entire family started crumbling apart in the first place (whether or not this is true is at this point very hard to tell because like, how far can you trace something like this back and who can be held responsible for what etc etc, but especially taking into consideration she never respected vitali's identity which is what drove him away from home, then did not allow him to reconnect which is what got him into arasaka, and THEN pushed matvey to get revenge after vitali indirectly got them fired at said corporation, and all of THAT is what drove daniil away from home and what caused roksana to change so drastically i'd say it's safe to say she is one of the bigger players in it all LMAO) AND doesn't feel comfortable around her anymore after her affair with ravager (nadya did that while still being married to matvey; they're divorced now), and there you go. mother privileges have been revoked

that being said, roksana does wish things were different. she stuck around for much longer than her brothers did almost in an attempt to fix things?? which again parallels vitali with how he also ends up trying to fix things in the broker fic but basically both of them fail and that's why roksana ends up leaving, she doesn't see the point in staying anymore because there's nothing there for her anymore :(

she does eventually come back to reconnect with vitali (most of their past beef was caused by twisted perspectives of the other's life at home as a child + daniil's rancid behavior bringing out the worst in both of them) and matvey (what i said earlier about them being strangers; no bad blood so an attempt can be made), but nadya has been cut off entirely and so has daniil for roksana because of how similar he is in his behavior to their mother, i talked a bit more about that here

this got very long i am so sorry i am positively insane about this family and all the dynamics. basically the tl;dr is that nadya gets worst mother of the year award forever and always

[fishofthewoods]

I love transfem jay gardiner as a concept because usually you look at somebody and go "estrogen could have fixed her" but estrogen could NOT have fixed her. she needed to get eaten by that whale. Once shes done recovering from the life altering injuries though she should go on hrt. as a little treat

[hottakehoulihan]

[mad-hunts]

How many shots would it take for you to sleep with @twcfaces ?

at the time that barton was asking this question, both him and matilda were about to enjoy some popcorn as a snack — you know, because it's delicious — but after hearing the last word? he stopped what he was doing. and coincidentally enough, so did matilda because she was about to grab some popcorn. but she heard all about what he'd told as well as tried to do to barton. which was almost kill him.

but anyways (LOL), you could practically feel the judgment coming from the both of them even though they weren't saying a thing: the best way to describe the stare they were giving the anonymous person who asked the question is that it was kind of like the, 'really? right in front of my salad?' glare, except if they were just exasperated instead of angry.

a few beats of tense silence passed, then before barton turned to matilda and was about to speak to her. though, it seemed she had guessed what her father was about to say already and left the room. that way, he could 'deal' with this anonymous person. barton cleared his throat then and faked a smile towards them, ❝ ahh — you know, i really didn't want to have to do this, anon. but you've forced my hand now... and i was trying to quit too, ❞ an overexaggerated sigh left his lips as he pulled a cigarette out of a pack he pulled out of the most random place ever (in a compartment in the cabinets that were too high for him, which he'd put there on purpose so he couldn't reach them easily. though he was lying about quitting so don't feel bad about that anon JSJSJ LOL)

barton stepped out onto his porch then and lit it, looking a bit like this sullen cat as he appeared to have lost all of the will to live. but he was really just being overdramatic.

❝ alright, who sent this in, hmm?! are you purposely trying to make me throw up in my mouth a little? because if so, then you succeeded, ❞ barton rose his voice but not enough to be considered yelling after saying this. a shiver ran down his spine just thinking about it. i mean, it wasn't that harvey and two-face weren't attractive in a general sense, but he literally told barton that maybe jim should've 'finished the job' whenever his father was killed by killing HIM too, and he also tried to shoot him (though he did technically provoke him, that was besides the point in his mind)!!

❝ i honestly can't believe that someone would ask this. i mean, part of me actually can, but you know what i mean. i'm not attracted to him at all, so i'm afraid i would have to take like... however many shots i need to not just get drunk BUT black-out drunk. like, i wouldn't remember anything of what happened between us, kind of black-out drunk, ❞ an incredulous laugh left his mouth while he put down the bowl of popcorn he was carrying.

barton narrowed his eyes at the other in suspicion before doing the ' i'm watching you ' motion with his fingers. ❝ alright, so i can't pretend to know why you saw it fit to put me through the terrible ordeal that is imagining me being with them, but just so you know; once i find out who you are... because i WILL find out, i'd watch your back. if this is the man himself though? i've got a special thing for you, and it's this star. ❞