#and one of em mortally wounded his ass

[tobiasdrake]

Deeper into Mesa Island, we go.

Uhhh.... Can we help you?

Should we be stopping this? I feel like we should be stopping this.

And they're gone.

Great. They expect me to do all the work of springing the deadly trap on myself. Typical.

This is the Elder Mist all over again. Fucking lazy-ass ambushers.

Fine, I did your yardwork and raised your lunar sigil. Let's go, up and at 'em. Come bite my face off. I don't have all night.

There we go, that's more like it. Consider this hedge pruned! See, the problem with making me set up my own ambush is that it gives me time to prepare for it.

In any case, that happened. Remind me next time we see Dickface Minstrel that I owe them a flute shoved down their throat.

And I pay my debts. Just ask the Numerology Cult.

Oh, I guess it's flashback time. Sure, why not. It's a bit of a hike to Peach's Castle, so now's as good a time as any to reminisce.

Oh, shit. Is this....

It is. This is the Strife cleansing. This is when Momo died. Along with many of her colleagues.

Oh, that confidence. >.< Oh, Moraine. Time will not be kind to you.

Another reminder that Erlina is stronger than Brugaves. She took to the magic more naturally than he did.

No, you don't. Not this battle, you don't.

People keep mentioning the twins. I don't think they're anyone we know. Probably died in the Strife battle.

They have to be important, though. The way they keep coming up implies that the plot wants us to be aware of them.

The sole survivor. I think this is where everything fell apart for our timeline. If Solstice Warriors are Resh'an's pieces and Dwellers are Aeophorul's pieces, then the near-total annihilation of all Solstice Warriors in exchange for a single Dweller, no matter how strong, was a cataclysmic loss for our team.

All that was left of the entire order was one traumatized Lunar warrior and two kids who didn't even really want to be here. This was where the ball began to roll downhill.

The friction was there from the beginning. Erlina never liked Moraine. I can't blame her. I hated his guts too. Sole survivor with PTSD Moraine is not well-suited to teaching the new generations, but he's literally the only option there is.

We didn't survive the Strife battle. We only thought we did. But the Dweller had mortally wounded the order. A wound whose lethality would only become clear twenty years later.

Shades of our own childhood plan to go sail the world with Garl instead. Every kid can feel how suffocating Mooncradle truly is.

I said before that Moraine is not very good at indoctrinating children into the order's belief system. Erlina and Bugraves turned full-on traitor, while Zale and I were out of Moraine's sight for five seconds before we recruited our non-Solstice bro that he explicitly forbid us from recruiting. Nobody cares about what Moraine thinks.

I stand by that remark now, but it's accented with a heavy dose of tragedy. He was never qualified to be a teacher. But who else was there?

Unfortunately, Evermist Island is a fucking prison colony of a place, so it's not exactly easy to escape from. These two had to become Solstice Warriors because there were no other options available. In Mooncradle, you're either born to become a Solstice Warrior or born to serve Solstice Warriors.

That's it. Solstice kids and non-Solstice kids alike, your path is set in stone from birth. Because this isn't a village; It's a factory for mass-producing Resh'an's chess pieces as efficiently as possible.

...oh, the vials that created Mooncradle were TIA's potions. I just got that. Yeah, he probably is the Great Eagle. Or controls it. Or something.

Aww, it's me! I'm so precious. I am the cutest baby that's ever been dropped off by the Great Eagle, and I will bite the shins of anyone who disagrees.

Confirmation that I am, in fact, the older sibling. Chew on that, little brother.

[shadowqueenjude]

Tamlin angst part 9

@achaotichuman TWs: suicide, angst, abuse. etc. etc. etc. This was pointless. Tamlin had been foolish to hope that finding the girl would mean anything. She was dead-set against them, and apparently, Tamlin had no idea how to fucking woo a female. He'd wooed Rhysand with his sad and romantic fiddle songs, and he had not wooed Lucien at all, but rather Lucien had wooed him without even trying and Tamlin had convinced him to stay by constantly saving his life. Did that work on humans? Hmm... "When she comes back," Lucien hissed as Feyre was changing upstairs, "compliment her. Be polite, like a proper gentleman. Don't forget the compliments, doofus. I know you've forgotten how to flirt since Amarantha cursed our asses, but do try, won't you?" Tamlin sighed. "I haven't forgotten how to flirt, Lucien." Lucien snorted. "Prove it then, Oh Lord of Heartbreak." Ugh. Tam was absolutely no good at these games. Lucien was far better at them. He'd pulled that comment about Feyre's hair and eyes out of his ass, and Tamlin had been stunned for a moment. He had the distinct feeling that he'd not seen the extent of Lucien's flirting abilities. He also knew he wanted Lucien to turn the full force of his charm on him. "What do I even say?" "Comment on her clothing, her face. Come on, Tam! Is it really that hard?" Apparently it was, since Tamlin wound up saying her hair is clean and that she looked better than before. After Feyre had left, Lucien snorted at him. "That went well." Tamlin groaned. "I'm no good at this! Why can't you be the one instead?" "Oh come on," Lucien groaned. "Come on, let me give you flirting lessons." Lucien grabbed his wrist and dragged him away. Tamlin let Lucien pull him through room after room, not questioning where they were going until they reached Lucien's room. Tamlin gasped when Lucien shoved him onto the bed. He'd imagined such a thing under different circumstances, but he couldn't say that he minded. Lucien stood over him, placing his hands on his hips. Lucien had the sluttiest little waist. Useless information. Stop thinking about his hips, stop thinking about it- "Come on, Tam!" Lucien demanded. "Impoverished human woman who hates faeries and has just been kidnapped! How would you make her like you?" "Isn't that what you're here to teach me?" Lucien rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle his iris didn't get lost in the back of his head. "You're actually so pathetic, Tam. I don't know if I should be amused or horrified that you're this bad at flirting." Tamlin scowled. "When you're a High Lord, everyone flocks to you! You don't need to be a good flirt." Lucien scoffed. "Arrogant bastard. Well, let me show you how we do things back in Autumn." Tamlin had heard of it; in that court, sex wasn't a mere instinct or fun, it was an art. And they'd completely mastered it. Lucien leaned over him, trailing an index finger across Tamlin's cheek. Tamlin gulped. "I know this must be so new and difficult for you, and I'm sorry it had to be this way," Lucien whispered, hovering over his ear, his breath drawing goosebumps across Tamlin's skin. "How can I make it up to you, oh, mighty mortal huntress? Would you care for a stroll around the grounds?" Tamlin whispered, "Yes." Lucien laughed and pulled away. "Was that really so hard?" Tamlin snapped out of it. Lucien was showing him how to speak with Feyre; he wasn't flirting with him. "Go on, try." Tamlin took a deep breath, trying to channel Lucien's confidence. "I'm sorry about all this. Would you like...a tour?" Lucien sighed. "Close enough. Go get 'em, tiger." Lucien pulled him up with surprising strength and gave him a light shove. "Go go go." "But-" "Tamlin, you idiot, do you realize our lives are depending on your flirting skills?" "You're not helping!" Tamlin shouted as Lucien shoved his bedroom door closed.

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

thousand autumns donghua, episode 16~

HERE WE GO FRIENDS IT'S THE LAST EPISODE OF SEASON 1 i am both excited and sad ;A; so let's DO THIS 💪😤 we are at the border!!! idk which one, but we are at A border, and shen qiao is here to kick ass and go :) RIGHT SO in the previous episode, shen qiao killed a man called kunye and it was really hot. this kunye also warned shen qiao that yan wushi is in MORTAL PERIL!! so he's come to the rescue, even tho yan wushi BETRAYED him lol BAI RONG IS HERE!!! HI SWEETIE!!! she's so sweet, warning shen qiao that he doesn't need to help the man who treated him like rubbish but he insists!! he is polite but FIRM!! and he says that bai rong is better than her sect peeps, which is TRUE hulan gu?? somethinggggg valley??? idk lol ok we're here at hulan gu. idk where it is but it looks pretty cool!! sweet masonry bro. looks great!! AH DUAN WENYANG IS HERE TOO he searches for the scary monk--who STILL has yet to say emítuó fó‎, and i'm super sad about it ._. nice outfit mr monk, ur looking good!! OH NOES THE BEIMU WARRIORS SHALL MARCH SOUTH!!! toward the central plains and-- YOINK THE OLD MAN APPEARS!! HE STEALS THE SPECIAL RING and angers the monk lol monk: yws i am a nice man but u are pushing me past my limits OH SHIT NOW THEY ARE ALL FIGHTING TWO AGAINST ONE AND YAN WUSHI IS DESTROYING THEM god these fight scenes are incredible, i love them so much ;A; COME ON LAO YAN DON'T SCREW IT UP oh my goddddd they're so cool OH NOES YAN WUSHI IS WOUNDED THE OLD MAN TOOK A SWORD TO THE TIT NOOOOOOO NOT HIS TIDDIES oh look shen qiao is here 😊 yan wushi: damn!! that idiot almost took off my nipple!!! OH BIG JGY'S BACK!!! i wish he would treat his instruments more carefully ;A; do u know how much work went into crafting that. do u even care. big jgy get ur priorities straight OH MY GOD HE SCRAPED THE STRINGS SIDEWAYS WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND!! 😫 OUCH OH IT'S it's yu ai??? i forgot what he looked like lmao, he's the one who almost de-nippled the old man ok this is hardly sportsmanlike this is like four dudes against one, it's not fair at all OH NOOO DOnN'T YOINK OUT THE SWORD!! IT WAS KEEPING UR BLOOD IN!!! YAN WUSHI U DUMBASS oh shit he MAD. BIIIIG MAD damn wow ok he's a fucking badass motherfucker 💪😤 never seen anything like it!! GET EM KING lol they all are running after him like it's a game of rugby aww poor old man hobbling away…..oh hey weird beard man is back as well!!! and he shoved yan wushi down the stairs. is this big jgy's revenge??? lmao beard man celebrated a bit too early did he??? DON'T LOOK AWAY FROM UR QUARRY U IDIOT wait why am i helping him, i don't care for him at all LMAO YWS POKED HIM IN THE FOREHEAD 🤣 OWO WHAT THIS??? WHO ARRIVES LIKE A GENTLE BREEZE IN THE NIGHT??? WHO IS SO DAINTY AND DELICATE AND BEAUTIFUL LIKE HAITANG BLOSSOMS ON THE WIND???? IT IS HE!!! IT IS SHEN QIAO!!!!!!!! he's so cool omg ;A; ok yu ai u NEED to stop calling ur shixiong 'a-qiao' that is. SO disrespectful. u lil bitch >:V 'a-qiao a-qiao' go fuck urself yu ai >:( OH SHIT SHEN QIAO JUST RENOUNCED THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND SAID THAT YU AI DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE THEIR SHIZUN'S DISCIPLE!!!!! OHHHH SHIIIIIITTTTTT OH MY GOOOODDDDD SHEN QIAO U ARE. THE MOST AMAZING PERSON LOOK AT HIMMM HE'S BARELY EVEN FUCKING TRYING YU AI CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COMPARE SORRY I'M YELLING SO MUCH BUT THIS IS HONESTLY SO AWESOME :DDD HAAAAA!!!! SHEN QIAO BROKE YU AI'S SWORD BROKE HIS FUCKING SWORD IN HALFFFFF HAAAA GOT EMMMMMM SHEN QIAO MARRY ME SHEN QIAO PLS MARRY ME AT ONCE he knows who he IS. he knows what he can DO. i am. SO IMPRESSED. SO PROUD. I LOVE HIM. SO MUCH ;A; yan wushi: lol why didn't u kill that dumbass?? shen qiao: ….shut up :) oh uh yu ai and beard man left, big jgy and dwy and the monk are still here tho duan wenyang: 'yan wushi give me the golden flower fingering!!' << actual subtitle in this donghua. AMAZING. HAAA SHEN QIAO WHACKED HIM AND DUAN WENYANG MADE THE FUNNIEST SOUND like 'AAAAAAAAAAA' omg i've replayed it like four times already it's so fucking funny

shen qiao: u run ahead, i'll follow in a bit :) yan wushi: ……am i having an emotion lol stupid monk thinks he beat shen qiao?? ok sure giant glowy hand vs giant glowy sword, who will win???!!! oh crap big jgy's helping the monk!!! …..bUT NOW YAN WUSHI IS TRYING TO HELP SHEN QIAO??!?!?! NO WAIT DON'T USE ALL OF UR EVIL SPIRIT!!! OLD MAN WHAT ARE U DOING omg are they just gonna die together??? that's so romantic ;A; 💔💔💔 PFFT he hit the ground real hard, it was a bit funny, sorry 🤣 yan wushi: *doing his best impression of a corpse shen qiao: …fuck :( i'm sad now :( AWWWWW HE'S TAKING THE OLD MAN AWAY WITH HIM IS HE LITERALLY FUCKING DEAD??!?!?! he walks very competently for a dead man awww flashbacks of their memories~ their uhhhh happy???? times together??? like shen qiao dying and yan wushi yelling at the forest!! i assume they didn't feel the need to show the wild passionate sex they had in the inn bc we already know about it lol WHY IS IT TRYING TO MAKE ME SAD 😭 I KNOW HE'S PROBABLY FINE BC THE BOOK IS LONGER THAN THIS SO. SO I'M NOT SCARED OR WORRIED. AT ALL. IT'S FINE. I'M FINE ;A; god the theme music is gorgeous btw i don't think i've mentioned how much i love it, it's so poignant and sweet ;A; and as we all know, birb LOVES a poignant tune, yes i do yes i do 😌👌 OH now they're by the river!! it's a good place to die :D AND it's where that other dude died last time!! :D OOH HIS FINGIE!!! IT TWITCHED I SAW IT duan wenyang is so sad!!! his shidi kunye is like super dead ;A; oh boy shifu's mad at him lmao. AAAAA AND THAT'S IT THAT'S IIIIIIITTTTT UNTIL THEY MAKE THE NEXT SEASONNNN AAAAAAAAAA ;A;

SO!!!

my thoughts overall???

EXCELLENT DONGHUA. really lovely animation!!! sometimes the models themselves were a bit odd or stiff, but the actual MOTIONS were smooth and pleasing to the eye!!! the music was GREAT, really well done!! and i love shen qiao and yan wushi and bai rong and shiwu!!! i LOVED IT!!!! 💚💚💚 9/10, WOULD DEFINITELY RECOMMEND!!! they lost one point for not having a SINGLE emítuó fó‎ however smh 😔 thanks for joining me on this lil journey~ hope u've had fun as well!! 😊

[thestarlitnights]

my reasoning (feel free to chime in with other ideas and interpretations!! would like to hear what y'all have) MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS IMMINENT SO PLEASE LEAVE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED. tw death, SA "Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach Another clever word sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you step back into line, a mob jumps to their feet" j*mmy tried to blame curly for the crash when in reality he did it. i think the rest of the crew initially believe it but then realise the truth j*mmy constantly lies to avoid responsibility and lies to himself that as captain, he's doing his best to fix everything (he is failing tremendously). "Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance And no one even knew it was really only you And now you steal away Take him out today Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid" j*mmy steals away the captain position and tries to crash the ship to "take him out today". nice work you did is very sarcastic and back-handed, reflecting j*mmy's shitty leadership post-crash. "With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives" jimmy does so much mental gymnastics to shift the blame away from him and onto someone else. he walks away from what he has done leading up to the end of the game and leads to. well. the crew can't run for the lives though, especially anya who is trapped with her abuser. "Slowly out of line, and drifting closer in your sight So play it out, I'm wide awake, it's a scene about me There's something in your way and now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want, well, it's all because of me" j*mmy believes he will be seen as a hero. but the "something in his way" and "someone is gonna pay" could be curly. curly, who tells the crew that they're made redundant and that they can pursue other goals, is in the way of j*mmy's goal of living his "better" current lifer than before then. if nobody can't get what they want, it's because of him. Now dance, fucker, dance, man, I never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you And now you'll lead the way Show the light of day Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid Trust deceived he led the way but did NOT show the light of day for everyone else, himself included. 4 of the crew are dead because of him and 1 is placed in a living hell (in agony, has the cope with the fact his crew is DEAD and being frozen for 20 years). but "trust deceived" hits hard. j*mmy deceived the trust of his captain curly, manipulated daisuke (my sweet ray of sunshine) into getting mortally wounded in the vent, pissed off swansea big time (big swans get his sorry ass) and do i have to say more other than j*mmy assaulted anya? he deceived everyone even before the crash.

"With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives"

Now dance, fucker, dance, he never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you So dance, fucker, dance, I never had a chance It was really only you"

NO ONE WILL KNOW THAT J*MMY CAUSED THE CRASH AND THAT HIS LEADERSHIP LED TO THE CREW'S DEMISE.

"With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives Clever alibis, Lord of the Flies Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives" again, jimmy has a whole routine of mental gymnastics to justify his poor decisions (clever alibis...). i'm sensing a pattern here. but that's my take on what this song describes mouthwashing. if you guys know other songs that fit the game, feel free to suggest them (with your reasons why if you'd like!)

hello mouthwashing fandom

is "you're gonna go far kid" by the offspring a good song that describes the plot (and a certain man)

[harumscarumcos]

noctisluciz replied to your post: when ya sis keep tryna say “jack is winning...

he literally had to run the fuck away to survive???

I’M SAYING

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Rolling back up for part idk...

It's taking a lot to convince Childe that you'll be okay. Qingce Village is a quaint and lovely place! Not much occurs here and the people are usually elderly or small families. Plus, the scenery is lovely!

After awhile, Childe begrudgingly listened and sat a bit away from the entrance to the village. He watched your form make your way through the area in such a sad and sulky style. In the end, he found out about your wound. Never got to see it but his keen sense of smell caught it. You refused to show him it, saying that it's not that bad and you'll just go to the village for some proper items.

But when night-time fell... His concern got the best of him. Yes, he knows you don't want him in the village. Yes, he knows how scared people are of him. But you-- you're--- what if you're in danger, hm? What if you're hurt and no one can find you? What if they hurt?

When he looks over the cliff, nothing seemed out of the ordinary... That's a lie.

That's a really big lie.

A trail of trampled flowers and dyed glaze lilies lead out of the Qingce village.

And Childe doesn't see much after that.

Okay so maybe-- just maybe-- going down into a village alone wasn't the best idea. You should have remember what Zhongli told you. Treasure Hoarders love this area since it's mostly retired elderly people. It's not that hard to steal unless the Commerce Guild is involved.

And maybe you're a bit more pissed that you can't even be mad about it. The leader knocked you out fair and square.

So, here you are... Tied to a tree with some real shitty rope... Staring at the Treasure Hoarders. You could just "boom boom bakudan" your way out of here but getting Boom Flowers consists of needing the movement... And your hands are tied. Literally.

I mean hey. At least they patched up your wound of you. That you can accept happily. Professionals have standards and they clearly do. But they also don't because they went after someone who was stabbed in the fucking arm.

"You think we can get 'em to speak?"

"Probably not."

"I mean... we can just--" one of them makes the gesture of punching something, "-- ya know?"

"You guys do realize I can see and hear you, right? I mean-- I'd happily go blind if it means I don't have to see your ugly asses but we don't all get what we want," you stare at the duo.

"Shut up," one snaps back. "If you could hear us so well, why didn't you fight back?"

"WhY dIdN't YoU fIgHt BaCk," you mock. "Maybe it's because I was fucking stabbed in my arm when I was minding my own business. If you guys are so fucking good, why do you guys go after a retirement village, huh?"

They scowl.

"Yeaaah, didn't think so. You guys aren't shit. What's that? Your vision is 'treasure hoarder'? Is your elemental skill having none?"

"That's it--" One of them grabs a shovel.

"What are you gonna do? Bury me with that rusty ass shovel of yours'? Throw mud at my face? I mean go ahead, it's not like it'll do anything. You're still attacking someone who's been injured. Does that make you feel better, by the way?" You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile. "Attacking people who clearly aren't in a place for a fight? Because you know you'll have the upper hand and thus be able to win? Because you aren't stronger enough to be proper Treasure Hoarders?"

Stalling.

"Give me a break."

You're stalling.

"You guys weren't ever good in the first place."

"Shut your--"

"Dumb mortals."

A crescent tide slices through your vision. Green grass dulls beneath a dark red. A cry of fear. One of pain. Frantic running and struggling grunts. An arrow flies but it's snapped in half by a claw. And a vibrant, electrifying, powerful bolt strikes down.

And then it all settles down to a quiet growl as you tug at the ropes.

"Hey, bubs," you nervously laugh as the single purple eye practically stares into your soul. And you're scared that he doesn't recognize you anymore. "... Childe?"

Your stomach plummets as he stalks closer. The growl emitting from his throat growing in volume as you struggle against the ropes. Tears sting your eyes as thoughts of him striking you down floods your brain.

"Childe--"

The ropes won't give.

"Tartaglia--"

Your wrists burn.

"Please--"

You squeeze your eyes shut as his claw comes down to strike.

"ajax--"

The rope loosens.

A whimper escapes you as vines suddenly make an 'x' formation in front of you, the delusion glowing ever so gently.

And then the quiet whine that escapes abyss creature is good enough for you to hesitantly open your eyes to see Childe backing away slowly.

You rub your wrists, an angry red from the ropes rubbing against them, before looking back up.

And he's gone.

(A/n: Reasons why I like writing; I make myself feel emotions. Also because I can use insults that I'd never get to use in real life lmao)

- 🍄

catch me rolling around and giggling because i LOVEEE THIS 🍄 anon please NEVER stop writing you hear!!!!! also your insults are wonderful :D

ANYWAYS HOOO BOY THIS IS JUICYYYYY >:)c related to this ask and its predecessors!!

he's gone. he's GONE- you leap to your feet, your wrists still stinging as you frantically call his name again to no response. with a single glance you can tell he hasn't gone to Qingce Village, thank the ARCHONS. there'd be screaming from the high hills if he was over there.

unfortunately that leaves the rest of the nearby wilderness of Liyue- or perhaps not-so-nearby, because Childe was FAST as you just witnessed. you shiver, thinking about the mounting prospect of finding him, perhaps having to comb Liyue, bit by bit, for a chance of being reunited.

and maybe he won't even remember you. a horrible little voice whispers in your mind. maybe he'll just attack you again with that lightless, deadened glare, and you swear you're turning to ice. but you shake your head, determination stronger than your doubts, and scoop up your supplies before hissing in pain.

right. you're still injured. but it doesn't matter right now.

the next week falls into routine- wake up from a restless night, mark which areas you want to search on your map, look for hours, calling Childe's name, write down your discoveries, fall asleep for a few hours, repeat. lately you haven't been sleeping at all, anxiety and adrenaline fueling each step you take as your gaze roves over the landscape. you yawn, blinking away the sandy, gritty feeling on your eyes.

you let your guard down. big mistake. more treasure hoarders, the little shits, take their chances, and you're forced to use none other than your Delusion to defend yourself, ending the fight quickly as you collapse to your knees. the hoarders managed to still get a few good strikes in, leaving you with more gashes and burns as well as a horrible pain in your chest, like the thorns from your Delusion.

the rain starts when you've dragged yourself to under a tree, valiantly attempting to bandage your injuries, but your hands are shaking with chill and your vision is steadily blurring. so you simply lean your head against the tree trunk, hands falling to your sides as you watch your blood stain the grass and be washed away by the storm. but you don't cry, merely letting out a choked sigh as the Delusion in your hand pulses and glows along with your heartbeat. you think you see a pinprick of light in the distance- it's so luminous, like it's staring at you.

how odd. your last thoughts before your eyes slip shut.

[silentmoths]

I saw your Sneznaya punching bag character and you mentioned her being in multiple yandere stories so I got curious; Which of those stories do you consider the most damning to the OC and which one was the, well idk if I can call it best scenario😂😂😂 hahaha but, least painful or damning one to her?

Also, I saw your drawing of her with horns! My mind is thinking of many ideas but it’s mainly wondering if a yandere Zhongli would force her to become an adeptus? 🗿💀😭

And finally, how’ve you been? :3 I hope you’re doing well recently ♥️💕

*cracks knuckles* OH BOY BUCKLE UP BECAUSE MIL DOESN'T HAVE A VERY GOOD TIME.

General OC ramblings below, dark, honestly if her scenario's get any worse I might have to start tagging her as dead dove like, yeesh.

So, alot of the scenario's she's been put in? all follow a very similar path and then branch out, she's always a fresh face in Liyue, new administrator at the bank who catches Zhongli's eye and awakens a very jealous, posessive dragon.

Always ends up getting yoinked and for a good long while, believes Zhongli really IS looking out for her best interests, he's kind, affectionate, a little firm when he has to be (to keep her safe, of course!)

alot of these scenario's also include @ainescribe's KNY crossover OC Mochi, who also happens to catch Zhongli's eye because 'ooo that outlander is cute but also very naive let's see where this goes'

Can guarentee the 100% best case scenario is them both escaping, and actually returning to...well, essentially Japan. Mil wasn't expecting to go with them but honestly she flourishes there; no scary dragon gods chasing em down, no judgemental parents, just some goddamn PEACE.

Now, worst case scenario's... hm.. well the scenario of Mil aiding mochi's escape from Zhongli, and staying behind as distraction comes to mind, because there's an off chance that Mochi either does not survive, or ends up mortally wounded, and Zhongli is an ass and tells Mil they're dead, which breaks her completely and she just...loses hope and ends up stuck as Li's little treasure forever.

Now depending on how bad that break is? If it leads to her becoming suicidal, Zhongli takes action and forcibly turns her into an adeptus so A: she cant fucking kill herself (honestly darling why would you ever do something so foolish-)

B: can stay with him forever.

however, for context behind that one lil picture of her with the horns?

Actually came from one of the better scenario's.

Mil ended up falling into the abyss sometime after childe, gaining similar powers but also a touch of memory loss, she doesn't remember falling into the abyss until a knock to the head jumpstarts things. She does some...pretty horrible shit and comes to regret it later.

Shy as she is and with the anxiety that everyone knows she was the cause of a whole lot of bad shit finally gets to her and she chugs an adeptal medicine made specifically for Zhongli to help purge him of abyssal energy she had forced into him as a form of revenge.

she nearly fucking dies of course, and has a very bad time, in order to stabalize her, Zhongli,who had seen the error of his ways and wanted to do right by mil, throws some of his own adepal magic into her to help stabalize her body as it comes off of it's reliance on the abyss.

poor kid. she really do be needing some therapy.

ALSO IM DOING VERY WELL, work is picking up, insomnia is at an all time high but eh, shit b like that

[reddus-sideblog]

Pathfinder Update

We didn’t play last week, we did this week, and here is the tale

After fleeing Hollow Point following their attempt at assassinating the dragon rider Jodd The Butcher the group headed east, and Valka, feeling horrendously out of his depth in regards to confronting dragons, retreated through the twin orb to his office in Bostadt, and had the knights he’d employed fix him up, while Schwartz, his tiefling secretary, looked upon his minor (though bloody) wounds from having his face smashed into the window sill, with less pity. Valka was being a bit “woe is me” and hypochondriac-y to his employees, while Tisiphone and Nik made camp and talked about the unique prospect of killing a dragon, along with their inexperience in fighting such things. Tisi and Nik headed through the Twin Orb as well, looking for Miss Kii who had disappeared to do some research on dragons. They found a self-pitying catboy, and later Kii, who had just returned from Bostadt’s uptown library. I can’t really blame Valka for being so down, the dragon rider had really beat him up, and the dragon was one hell of a sight to behold.

Kii attempted to entice Valka back to her quest with talks about immortalizing oneself through legendary feats (and maybe mentioned mortality a bit too much) and Valka really wasn’t having it. He said something along the lines of “I’m a con man, I know what I am! I am not a dragonslayer!” and went and sat in a huff in his boss chair turning his back to Tisi, Kii, and Nik. His employed knights seemed a bit scandalized by this (they’re not the brightest...), and Scwartz just sighed loudly. Nik and Kii were a bit taken aback, and Tisiphone just walked up to his chair, spun him back around, and dragged him back through the Twin Orb. When on the otherside Tisiohone shut down that Twin Orb (effectively locking it off for the time being) and her and Valka had a bit of shouting to do at each other before she walked off in a bit of a rage to go kick things and shoot her gun off and let off some steam.

In their little spat Tisi and Valka had largely not noticed that there was a new face around the campfire. The stranger wore a dark cloak and a nearly featureless white mask. The group discerned that he was head-to-toe covered in bandages beneath his obscuring clothes. What’s more he was using their cooking equipment to make food! After some initial wariness and hostility he introduces himself as “Ivan Escribano“ and expresses his wishes for him (and his men) to team up with the group to hunt down Jodd and his dragon. We ultimately do not know his motivations, but Tisiphone and him shake on it. Then we played Dixon Hold ‘Em with Valka and Nik, using Valka’s deck. Curiously, Valka won... Only Kii was able to realize what the stew Ivan had cooked was, it was a Pragian stew, using spices and ingredients common to the land.

Come daybreak, the group broke camp, but not before Tisiphone and Nik realized that Ivan had been sitting infront of the fire all night...like he was meditating or something. Tisi talked it over with Valka (who was the one who pieced it together when he pretending to burn his hand on the kettle Tisi was using to brew coffee (she makes it cowboy style, boiling the ground in the kettle) and swearing in Elvish, and with Ivan looking upon him with bemusement and saying “you swear like a child”. They finished packing up and headed to Stormhill.

Not much happened in Stormhill, besides buying provisions and other gear. Kii remarked, though, that she would feel a bit more trustworthy of Ivan and his men if they didn’t always wear masks, and Tisiphone took a fair bit of offense to it, pointing right at her and saying that folks got a right to hide their faces, especially if it’s for other’s sakes if they have messed up faces. Also she got mad at Valka too when he mentioned Ivan’s heavy bandaging, accusingly asking if he had a problem with more cripples joining the group. Poor Tisi’s more self-conscious at times than she really needs to be.

They continued on to Idle Crag, a Southerlands port city on the more Eastern coast. The city itself is a good 2 stories or so above the swamp below, with the “under city” being composed of shanty slums and having an unfortunate amount of ghouls below. The next step of the masked man’s master plan was to get a hold of passage to the island that he somehow knew the dragon rider would be upon. He comped the stable fees as well as our fees at the inn (the Smiling Pearl). Valka, reluctantly, went about looking for leads down by the docks for a captain to bring us all to the island, but little luck was to be found, as a storm was coming soon and no one was looking to leave port in the mean time. He did discover, however, that a pirate captain had pulled in to the harbour not long ago, and had been arrested by the port authority, but he was known for having little heed for the local weather and would sail wheresoever he pleased.

It turns out Ivan had certain things to attend to and was leaving the hiring up to us. And so Tisiphone, Nik, and Kii came with Valka to go hire this pirate captain. We arrived at the port authority (the only all stone building in the city), and the elven lady at the front desk asked if we were family here to see the captured catfolk corsair captain. Valka, up to this point, had been mildly bothered, he doesn’t like the sea, he doesn’t like boats, and he especially doesn’t like pirates. Now, he was positively agitated, and only Tisi and Kii were keeping him from leaving. So the lot of them headed down to the disgusting lower levels of the dungeons, and soon enough Valka was face to face with...Valka (Valka is the family name, the brother being Lora’a Valka and our dear alchemist being Lora’sae Valka, the intricacies of catfolk families will have to wait until some other time).

And so we came to understand that Lora’sae was the classic dweeby younger brother, and Lora’a was ever the overbearing, bullying older brother. Older Valka saw younger Valka as little more than a charlatan that had run the family business into the ground (he had), and younger Valka saw older Valka as little more than a degenerate wastrel who applied murder, braggartry, and thievery quite liberally (he did). In short, the entire Valka family is composed of villains of various varieties. Lora’sae presented his paying off of his brother’s bail as an act of love and goodness (which will surely bite us in the ass later), and so now there are 2 too many cats in the group’s company.

Later, after we had let him clean up, Lora’a also demanded that a few new terms were being added to the deal, one that we would steal back the magical contraband he had attempted to smuggle into Idle Crag, and two, that Lora’sae buy him dinner. The two went out, and while Lora’a is an overbearing ass he did give little Valka some good advice, to cherish his friends, and to not let them fall by the wayside like he had before. It seems that, just maybe, Lora’sae Valka has made some genuine friends, and not just found an opportunity to parasitize some poor marks.

[mnictasbcl]

Life without death

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 4th: No human lives forever @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Markus

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson, Connor & Markus, hinted Connor/Markus

Additional Tags: Mortality, Existentiality, Fear of Death, Swearing, Gun Violence, Injury, Graphic Injury, Suicidal Thoughts, kind of but it’s there so keep safe readers, Hospitals, Medical, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Connor learns about Hank’s mortality on a mission gone wrong.

 TW: Blood, Graphic gun injury, Slight suicidal thoughts

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

There were some things Connor didn’t like to think about. As an android, it was quite easy to shut away these topics in little boxes in his mind, neatly sorted away.

One of them was Amanda. Of course, that box would open itself up sometimes, despite the fact she and the control she could exert over his programming was gone… it would open itself up and play back images in his mind whilst he went into stasis.

The point of these boxes, however, were to protect himself, and for the most part, they worked. Never in his waking moments would he have to experience the unpleasant feelings they brought.

Of course, never… well, never experiencing them in a perfect world. And the world was far from perfect.

Mortality was another.

He knew he could not die, instead his body would be fractured beyond repair and if he did not upload his memories, he would cease to exist. That’s what the more logical side of his mind tried to argue, anyway.

The side unlocked by deviancy, well, it quivered in the face of fatal danger, it took the fears of no longer experiencing the world, no longer experiencing at all, and locked it away in a vault.

Connor supposed that’s why he’d never even thought to breach the subject of human mortality.

In hindsight, maybe he should have at least acknowledged it.

  _________________

 It was a Monday. Late afternoon, and the weather in Detroit was less than optimal. Rain was pouring down, making every known surface slippery with moisture. Hank, as predicted, was grousing about it.

“Fucking weather. Fucking rain. Fucking criminals.”

Of course, Connor couldn’t deny that it was rather unfortunate they were on their way to a crime scene, a murder that had been committed outside rather than in the comfort of a rain-free building.

“It is rather loud.” He commented, listening to the raindrops hammering onto the roof of the car. “I can’t even hear your music, which is at a few decibels above the recommended levels of—”

“Rain?” Hank scoffed. “I can’t hear it over the stick up your ass.”

Connor pursed his lips, still in the process of reaching to turn down the music. “If I had a proverbial stick up my ass, I don’t believe it would make a sound.”

Hank laughed. Pulling the car into park, he was still chuckling. “I just… can’t get over the sound of you swearing.”

He raised a brow, smirking. “Would you like me to say it again, Lieutenant?”

“Please don’t.”

Hank’s good mood was gone again as they got out of the car, expression souring as the rain pelted down onto his head.

Connor found it was even more troublesome as he crouched down beside the body to analyse it. Whilst a small tent had been set up over it, the rain had already done enough damage to wash away vital evidence.

“All blood on the body belongs to the victim, Caria Moltoz.” He sighed, rubbing his hands on his trousers as he got up. “However, the sample is fresh, and along with evidence shown by the wounds… I don’t think the crime was committed all that long ago. We may still be able to find evidence of the killer on the nearby security feeds.”

Hank nodded, turning to go and find these feeds, before noticing Connor’s LED was swirling yellow, eyes flickering rapidly. He was about to express concern, until the android suddenly turned to him.

“I have accessed the cameras and have reviewed the footage—”

“Of course you have.”

“—and I believe the suspect is not too far away from this location.”

  And so, they made their way to the direction Connor had viewed their suspect going in. They had appeared to duck into a nearby clothes store, which unfortunately was quite large.

“At least we’re getting out of the rain.” Hank sighed in relief as they entered the building, placing his coat on the rack so he didn’t track water all over the store.

Connor shook a little, reminding him of Sumo coming in from a walk after the rain. At Hank’s look, he frowned and placed his own jacket onto the rack. “Apologies, Lieutenant. I forgot I am no longer wearing my Cyberlife jacket. It was waterproof.”

“Looked shit, though.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

 The store was fairly busy, with handfuls of customers here and there. No one had any recollection of a human running inside the store in a hurry, so the suspect must have kept their cool.

Luckily, they were fairly undercover themselves, so it was unlikely the suspect would see them with suspicion and find a way to slip out unnoticed.

“They were wearing a navy blue coat along with dark jeans when I viewed the footage,” Connor whispered to Hank through a stand of clothes which they were pretending to browse through, “but I cannot see anyone of that description in this store.”

Hank nodded, eyes scanning over the room himself, before he spotted something. “Wait here.” he said, taking a black shirt off the hook and making his way towards the changing rooms.

Connor nodded, data piecing together in his mind, forming a conclusion when the older man came back over to him, navy blue coat in his arms along with other items of clothing.

“The suspect changed. Unfortunately, then, I didn’t manage to get a look at their face on the footage, it was covered partially…”

“We’ll get ‘em.”

Deciding it was in their best interest to drop the undercover act, they had the store manager close up briefly, keeping everyone inside for questioning.

“It won’t take long.” Hank placated the disgruntled shoppers.

They made their way through the groups, Connor using his questioning tactics to try and find out who it was. He kept an eye on everyone’s stress levels, including those they weren’t currently talking to, but nothing changed drastically. There were no signs of a killer among them.

“Yeah, thank you for your time.” Connor could tell that Hank was trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone as the shop opened up again. He shared the feeling. They’d spent all this time searching, probably on what would be their best lead to solve this case, and they had nothing.

“Fuck. Well… at least whilst we’re here, I could do with a new coat. This one barely kept the rain out.”

“That’s the spirit, Lieutenant.”

Hank made his way over to the displays, pointing at a brown overcoat. “That looks like it’d suit me. Maybe not the hat, though,” he laughed, pointing to the fedora perched atop the mannequins head. He reached for it, pulling it—

Connor shouted at the same time the mannequin moved, pulling a gun out of the pocket of the brown overcoat, shoving Hank to the side just as the shot went off, and another.

People screamed. The suspect managed to run out of the store, skidding out into the rain, away, away, away…

Connor didn’t move. Why wasn’t he moving? He needed to move. Needed to chase away the…

He groaned. Something flashed in his vision, red and warning. A damaged biocomponent. Huh. Maybe that’s why it hurt.

He was losing thirium, however, it wasn’t fatal, not yet. “Hank, we need to get them, they’re…”

That was strange. Why wasn’t Hank answering? Usually he pushed Connor back to the ground, telling him he’s injured, that he should stay down and wait for him to come back.

But there was nothing.

Panic coursed through his systems. Despite the hot flare that spiked in his side when he moved, he didn’t stop, not until he saw Hank—

Hank, laying beneath him. And there was blood. There was a lot of blood. Red, flowing on the floor, soaking into his coat, staining the fibres and the bits of Sumo hair caught in the fabric—

“Hank!”

He couldn’t focus. He might get repaired, but Hank couldn’t. He… humans didn’t live forever. Would he die? Would Hank die here, on the floor of a clothing store in Detroit, whilst Connor could do nothing to stop it?

The wound. Right. The wound. He grabbed the nearest thing he could find (a scarf) and pressed it against the wound. He had to stop the bleeding. Staunch the flow. Stop Hank from dying—

His grasp was weak. Stupid, it was weak. It was the damn wound in his side, thirium leaking out of it steadily, it was making his hands shake and his brain go fuzzy.

“Hank.” He tried again. The Lieutenant didn’t stir. He could see he was breathing, but was if he stopped? What if he died?

Sirens. Sirens were loud, he noted, hands shaking, blood caking his fingers, getting stuck up his artificial nails. Someone was pulling him away. They seemed comforting, but they were pulling him away from Hank, and their words were distant, sucked away in a vacuum—

“Please, you have to save him,” Connor choked out, “he can’t die—he can’t—”

The hands tugged, and with his fading strength, Connor let them. He hoped they would save Hank. And if they didn’t, he mused internally, blackness creeping in the edges of his vision, the warning messages getting dimmer, then he would like to join him.

    _________________

 The first thing Connor registered upon waking was that he wasn’t dead.

The second thing was that he couldn’t see Hank.

He sat bolt upright, finding himself restrained slightly by a tube attached to his side, along with multiple wires across his body. Connor didn’t register where he was—the sheer panic from before starting to creep back into him.

He tore the wires out, before beginning to tug on the tubing. However, before he could get it dislodged, alarms set off by his disturbance had alerted people to his struggle. Some technicians ran in, shouting something about blue blood. But he couldn’t think about that right now, whatever damage he had sustained; he couldn’t see Hank.

Hank was dead.

Connor pulled on the tubing with more force, only stopping when gentle hands clasped around his arm.

“Connor, you need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The words were steady, despite the situation, filled with comfort, and the voice was familiar.

“Let the technicians plug the wires back in, they’re helping you. Just… easy…”

He couldn’t yet put a name to the voice, but he complied, allowing himself to be eased back onto the bed. If Hank was dead… there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

He stopped his struggling but couldn’t stop the tears slipping from beneath his lashes. His body shuddered minutely, hand scrubbing over his face. As everything became more in focus, he looked up to the voice, and saw Markus.

Markus met his eyes, and his gaze softened. As soon as the technicians were done, he ushered them out of the room before perching on the side of the bed Connor was laying on.

“What’s wrong, Connor?”

He took a breath. Opened his mouth, then closed it again. His thoughts were incoherent. The box was open, tipping its jumbled contents all over his mind, and he couldn’t string the words together. In the end, he mumbled, “Hank.” Voice breaking in the middle of the syllable.

Markus nodded. “I know you must have panicked not seeing him here, but rest assured, he’s safe. You saved him, actually. The shot you blocked would have hit—well,” he softened his words upon seeing Connor’s expression, “you saved his life.”

Connor furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands. They were clean. “But… there was so much—so much blood. Hank’s blood.”

The other android grimaced. “Yes, the wound he sustained did hit some arteries, but nothing major. He will need a fair amount of time to recover, as will you, but he’s stable.”

“That’s… good.” Connor breathed, suddenly feeling the urge to change the subject. “But—recover? I thought my systems would be able to self-heal.”

Markus shrugged. “The technicians said that you will be able to self-heal the damage now given adequate thirium, but because the damage was to a major biocomponent, it will take time.”

He nodded. That made sense. At least it would give him an excuse to stay home with the Lieutenant whilst he recovered.

“He’s lucky he didn’t die. I’m… lucky.” Connor breathed after a moment of thought.

Markus placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “Humans are fragile. That’s why he has you.”

“But one day… I might not…”

“You’re not perfect, Connor.” The RK800 blinked at that, taken aback. “No one is. But you didn’t fail today, and you won’t tomorrow. Besides, Hank is a skilled detective.”

Connor breathed in deeply. Markus’ words made sense. But now the box was tipped out, his mind was rifling through its contents. Mortality.

“Even so, the Lieu—Hank won’t live forever.”

Markus smiled sadly. “No, he won’t.” He agreed. “Someday, neither will we.  But that isn’t what living is about, Connor, not thinking about death.” A pause. “What do you enjoy doing with Hank?”

He thought over it. “I like working on cases with him. But- right, other than work. Well, we do watch movies together in the evenings; he usually ends up falling asleep halfway through them, but it’s—well, it’s endearing. And sometimes he comes along with me when I’m walking Sumo, we stop in the park…” he drifted off into the memory, looking to the ceiling, eyes starting to feel heavy, tired out from the wound and the exertion.

“That’s what life is about, Connor.” Markus said softly, hand moving away from his shoulder, briefly trailing over his forehead and pushing the stray strands of hair to the side. He smiled.

[theoverly]

Her choice

Pairing: Johnny & female V

Rating: T for swearing

Dreams are a reflection of our subconscious, and nightmares are our subconscious way to deal with trauma, as Johnny learnt the hard way early on in his life

——————————  

Catch me traumatizing myself with my own headcannon

——————————  

On ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/30339804

Or press “Keep reading”

—————————— 

”I… I can’t believe it… everythin’. A-all we did… pointless.” V glitches away, leaving Johnny alone at the glitchy diner-booth for a moment before he follows the path of her code, already as familiar to him as her mind. She’s sitting in the vast empty space of the net, knees pulled up towards her chest and arms resting atop them, staring out into nothing with an empty look in her eyes. “I’m sick of this…” she growls just as he materializes, pulling a chair out of cyberspace to straddle, arms resting on the backrest. Even without access to her mind he can feel the rage building up in her. “Of everythin’.” She continues as she glares up at him from under her brows. “You most of all.”

  He ignores what feels like a stab or a glitch in his code, and instead levels her with a stern gaze. “Perfect, ‘cause we’re stickin’ to the plan. You’re goin’ back to your body, and I’m goin’ with Alt.”

  “Where she even gonna take you?” she bites out.

  He glances off to the side, to a beam of bright light that appears to be both extremely far away and dangerously close at the same time. “Beyond the Blackwall, to become part of her-“ he looks back, glancing at the glitchy outline of V’s boots. “Whatever the hell that means.” He finishes, voice trailing of a little at the end.

  “… What’s it like, beyond the Blackwall?” he looks up at the slight tremor in her voice, finding an air of anxiousness about her, making him huff.

  “Assumin’ I don’t loose my fuckin’ mind-least no one’s gonna ride my ass there.” She chuckles, a little, face softening. “Can’t read you mind anymore, V.” he reminds her, wondering what’s so funny.

  “Didn’t seemed to mind having you ass ridden – on occasion.” Her mouth curls into a toothy half grin, her signature look of mischief.

  He blinks at her for a moment before realizing what she’s hinting at. “Dirt girl…” he huffs, shaking his head in amusement. “Gone pokin’ ‘round in my memories for the juicy stuff, huh?”

  She chuckles briefly, shaking her head and looking down at her hands as she begins to wring them together, a display of anxiousness he’s never seen her partake in before. “… you go beyond the Blackwall, you ain’t comin’ back…” she mumbles, voice hoarse. “What about hanging around as a construct?” she glances up at him. “Just… till we find another way?”

  “Know you ain’t that naïve.” Johnny shakes his head, looking away from her. “Findin’ another way means makin’ a deal with ‘saka. I’ll pass.”

  There’s a stretch of silence only interrupted by the hum and buzz of cyberspace, neither of them jumping in to fill the void for a long while until- “I don’t wanna die, Johnny…” V whispers, making him look back at her, finding her eyes staring down into nothing with a hopeless expression. He furrows his brows in concern, wondering what thought are racing through her mind as she tries to come up with a plan for how to tackle her current predicament. “Never thought life was worth clingin’ to. Not at any price, anyway…” Her eyes focus and she looks up and to the side, to the beam of light, eying it in a mournful way that has Johnny’s code buzzing in alarm.

  “’cause it ain’t.” he huffs.

  “Wrong.” She shakes her head a little. “That light beyond the Blackwall-“ she nods her head towards it, inviting him to look at it, though his gaze is pinned on her. “-that’s hope.” He shakes his head as he prepares to jump in and interrupt, but she continues. “Could be the flames of Hell or Heaven’s grace -who cares?”

  Cyberspace buzzes and both constructs look to the side where Alt’s form glitches into being. “We’ve learned to turn into pure data-” She begins, voice soft and booming at the same time, echoing through cyberspace. “-but an animal still prowls inside us, and its instinct to survive almost can’t be extinguished.”

  Johnny narrows his eyes at the AI. “Yeah, that instinct’s part of bein’ human – but so is denyin’ it.” He looks back to the nomad. “V, you’re talkin’ crazy – there’s nothin’ for you beyond the Blackwall.” He stresses sternly.

  “‘least it’s not the big fat nothing I’m goin’ to in six months’ time anyway…” she murmurs before looking away from Alt and pinning him with a stare. “I am going to die, Johnny.” Each syllable of every word of that sentence is thoroughly pronounced, the difference is startling compared to her usual drawl; It’s not a guess or a fear anymore – it’s a statement of fact... Don’t mean he can’t open his mouth to argue- “Save your breath-“ she shakes her head and looks away from him. “-really think I alone could find some way to save my life in the following six month’s when we haven’t already?”

  “You won’t be alone.” He reminds her. “You’ve got some great chooms backing you, V.”

  She ignores him, instead looking up at Alt. “What now?”

  “As I said; You can return to the body, where you will perish within six months. Alternatively, Johnny can retain the body, remain there, whilst you come with me beyond the Blackwall.”

  “Guess it was naïve of me to think there’d be a happier ending for all involved…” she chokes out, voice thick with grief.

  “Wrong city, wrong people…” Johnny agrees mournfully.

  Alt’s body splits into copies, showing up along a path leading towards the beam of light. “This path leads deeper into cyberspace. Take it, and permanently sever the connection to the body to go beyond the Blackwall.” More copies, this time leading in the opposite direction and towards what appears to be a well of some sort. “The path to the body passes through the mortal well. Whichever of you goes through it will retain the body.”

  V’s eyes linger on the well, and Johnny feels a wave of relief washing over him that she’s considering going back. “What I told you at the Pistis Sophia-” the relief drains from him and is replaced by dread as she speaks. “-we stick to that. I’ll go with Alt. You stay in our body.” She rises to her feet slowly, not even sparing him a glance.

  It pisses him off…

  “Turning your back on your problems, again?” he grits out, glitching off the chair when she turns towards the beam, grabbing her arm to stop her and yank her back. “What? Just gonna roll over and decomish? Give up?” he growls at her.

  “It’s my decision, Johnny.” She yanks her arm away from his grip, clutching her hands into tight fists and bracing for a fight. “This bullet is comin’ my way, I just need to make sure it don’t take you down with me.”

  “You’re loyal, I’ll grant you that. But damnit are you dense! Haven’t changed a bit since we met.”

  Her construct shakes, edges glitching as she seems so be winding up, and he fully expects her to start throwing punches. Instead –

  “I’m so damn tired, Johnny…” she breathes, eyes fluttering closed, face scrunching up in despair as she fully deflates. “I just want this all to end…” she sobs, making him deflate too.

  “I know, princess…” His voice comes out soft, the nickname he’s been using to tease her now an honest term of endearment. “But let’s not make any rash decisions, ok?” He grabs her forearm again, just below the Johnny + V tattoo, and softly pulls at her, signaling for her to follow him as he turns around towards the well. He pulls his hand back, but hers shoots out to grab his in a weak grip. Given that it’s his chrome hand and they are both two constructs in cyberspace with no physical form, he really shouldn’t be able to feel the soft warmth of her hand, but he does. He squeezes her hand lightly and holds it as he leads her to the well, sitting her down on the edge before taking a step back from her, her weak grip allowing him to slip his hand free. Her face is an open book now that she’s admitted to her exhaustion and allowed it to set in, looking at him mournfully.

  “I don’t want to die alone again…” she admits quietly.

  “You won’t.” He insists. “Really think Vic’s gonna just sit back for six months and let you die? Fuck – tell Kerry what’s happening, he’ll throw a fortune Rouge’s way so she can-“

  “You know I don’t trust Rogue.” V interrupts coldly, shaking her head weakly.

  “Then go to the Aldecaldos;” he insists, voice rising as he begins to go on a rant. “you know better than anyone that a Nomad clan large as that is bound to know someone who knows someone who can help, and you’ll have six months to dig ‘em out. Or fuck – call Judy. Girl’s smart, maybe she and Vic can figure somethin’ out if they work together for six months? Or maybe that PI of yours can sniff out a lead better than he can a fuckin’ clitoris!”

  V breathes out a small chuckle, shaking her head in amusement. “River did fine, you’re just mad I made you fuck a cop.” She protests, smiling softly at him for a moment before patting the edge of the well beside her. “Sit with me?” she asks quietly. Johnny’s wound up tight, and he almost snaps at her, but the small hint of a hopeful smile tugging at her lips deflates him, so he ambles his way to sit down next to her, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his legs, glancing up towards the beam of light beyond the Blackwall, where he’ll go after they’ve said their goodbye. “I still want you to have my body…” she admits quietly, and he shakes his head briskly.

  “Stop already.” He snaps. “You’re a fighter, V… It’s as that doll back at Clouds said; You’ve never backed down from anythin’ in your life, so don’t go backin’ down from the fight for your life.” He sits back up a little so he can look at her, her eyes starting to gain some focus, hanging on to every word he says. “You’re stubborn as all hell. You see a wall blocking your path, you’ll either find some way ‘round it or bash that thick head of yours against it until you bring it down.” He reaches out and knocks on her forehead, making her huff out a sound of amusement and swat his hand away softly. “You’ll find a way to cheat death again, and when you do; Gonna take Night City by storm. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stand in your way.”

  She shakes her head a little, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she looks at him with such open adoration it’s startling. “… Goodbye, Johnny.” her voice is hoarse again, filled with unshed tears that he doesn’t deserve.

  “Goodbye, V... And never stop fighting.” He moves to stand up and help her into the well, but before he can she glitches away to stand before him, forcing him to look up at her in alarm. Her face, set in burning determination, is the last thing he sees as he feels her hands on his shoulders pushing hard until he tumbles backwards, over the edge of the well and into a freefall.

 Nightmares are nothing new to Johnny, he’s had them since his gonk ass enlisted as a child soldier and went to fight in Mexico, but it’s been a long time since he’s had a nightmare so vivid it causes a physical reaction.

   ——————————  

  He wakes with a start, throwing the cover off his body – drenched in cold sweat – as he shoots up from the bed and stumbles out of it, catching himself on the floor with a grunt of pain before franticly pulling himself back up and stumbling out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, throwing himself at the toilet as he dry heaves a couple of times before emptying the contents of his stomach into the bowl in several drawn out heaves that leaves his entire body trembling. His fingers weakly curls against the cold ceramic as he hurls and hurls until there’s nothing left for his body to expel, and then he dry heaves a couple of more times, tears and snot running down his face once he manages to gulp down large breaths of air, the occasional sob or groan of pain interrupting his efforts to try and catch his breath.

 He wipes his face with his arm, leaving a disgusting mess of tears, snot, and vomit as he slowly rises, looking down at the tattoo on said arm as he drags his feet along the cold floor and to the sink, hands shooting out to grab the edge of it before he looks up at his reflection. Gasping sharply, he pulls his fist back, a primal roar of rage and loss rips from his chest as he punches the mirror, shattering V’s reflection.

[into-crazy]

My thoughts on J with a s/o that plays video games

I was inspired by @loveletterstoledger​ and their wonderful hc's on gaming. I just wanted to share my own concepts. I based and wrote this from my own experiences- from what games I like to play and how I play. This ended up unnecessarily long, but what can I say? I have no regrets. Anyways, enjoy my fellow(and non-fellow) gamers💘

Warnings- Cursing & brief mentions of violence

There were many things about you that never cease to amaze and humor Joker. Like the time he found you on the couch, intently staring at the flat screen with a game controller in your hands.

You loved playing video games, especially the graphic and violent ones. Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Mortal Kombat, Twisted Metal, House of the Dead: Overkill Extended cut, and Street Fighter were a few you often played on two different consoles. Especially online where you could play with/against others.

Without bragging, you've become a fairly proficient player. Playing them over some time, always finding ways to improve your skills. The more you played, the better you got.

J never shared your interest in such games simply because he lives them out in real life on the daily. Gunfire, explosions, and violence are already apart of his dangerous lifestyle. So why waste his time watching or acting it out on a TV screen when he could go out and do all of that himself?

However, that didn't stop him from watching you play sometimes. Whether he was sitting next to you on the sofa fiddling with his knives, or glancing over while he'd work on some wild contraction on your kitchen table.

"Think you're good at that, huh? How about coming with me tonight? I'll give ya that same gun an' we can ah, test that out." He'd slyly remark, laughing when you’d agree to take him up on it.

It amused him to see how competitive you'd get, so invested in the game you were currently playing. Which you were quite good at, he thought to himself.

He didn’t peg you for as the “gamer” type, and he found it interesting that you were into that violent stuff. Then again, you were with him, so it didn’t come off as much of a surprise. 

He especially found entertaining the frustration you exude when things weren't working well for you in the session/lobby. Whether it was lag or you getting your ass kicked.

Now you're not much of a sore loser, in fact you're actually a chill and clean player. Although, you do have your moments. Muttering and sometimes even shouting profanities aloud like, "Idiot!" // "Damn it." // "Fuck me!"

"What? Here, now?" Would J playfully tease you, snickering when you'd shoot him an annoyed glare. "Sheesh, you're rather feisty, bunny. Gettin' all worked up over a measly game."

"Yeah, one that I'm losing!"

The ones he likes to watch you play often are GTA and COD. At times he was helpful, and other times he was purposely obnoxious.

"Watch the health bar." // "Reload the gun." // "Look to the left. Shoot! He's right there!" // "Ah, see? Had ya just listened to me, ya would have won. I would've."

"It's because I was listening to you that I got my ass whooped." You'd argue back. "I'd like to see you have a go at it! If you're so confident in that statement, then prove it. Play me a round."

That was a clear challenge, and J does enjoy himself a challenge. A wide grin splits his painted cheeks, scars bunching up in genuine amusement as he'd cackle. "You ah, sure about that toots? Because, I'd have no problem in beating you at your own game."

But you paid no mind, already handing him the spare controller, donning a confident smile of your own. "Postive."

You set it up- COD one-on-one Team Deathmatch, twenty minutes. Player with the most kills at the end wins. You briefed him of the remote buttons and special moves. He chose the map, and you started.

The first half, you took it easy. Let him ease into the game. Right off the bat was he running around the map and shooting wildly. But J was a fast learner, he quickly got the hang of it.

"I'll bite, this is a little fun.."

After killing you a couple times, he became too cocky. "Come on, doll. I've seen ya play better than that. Go hard, huh?"

He asked for it. Switching back into gamer mode, you showed no mercy. Headshots, sniper shots, melee attacks, you name it. Soon racking up kill after kill. Now, it was your turn to laugh and J didn't like that.

His cackling stopped and he grew irritated. Hands tensing around the controller, you thought he was going to break it. Frustrated growls left him each time your count went up. He was losing, and he hated to lose. Which ended up being the case once the round was over.

"I don't like this game." He grumpily mumbles, carelessly tossing the controller to the side.

"Awe come on J, don't be such a sore loser." You'd sprinkle salt on the wound, mimicking his tone from earlier back against him- "It's just a game."

That point on, he made it his goal to beat you. Or at least give you good competition. But mostly just to beat you so he could have the satisfaction in winning. Joker had to win.

When he wasn't busy terrorizing the city, messing with Bats, drawing up a plan, or spending quality time with you- he was on your console. Playing against others online, just how you would. Practicing, getting better.

You've actually walked in on him a few times, his focused eyes glued to the screen. It was a funny sight to see, and you wondered if that's how you looked when you played.

One evening you came home to find a large, opened box containing a bunch of game controllers on your table. "Um J, where did you get these?"

"I found 'em." He stole them. Off to his side there were already two broken ones. "Oh- which reminds me," he hands you a brand new copy of your signature controller. "I sort of uh, used yours." In translation, he got mad and broke it.

Once he knew he mastered his skills, which didn't take him long, he challenged you to a proper rematch.

You gladly accepted, thinking this oughta be good. And no doubt it would be, you've watched him, he's going to be a real competitor.

"What do ya say we take it up a notch, hm bunny?" To make things more interesting, Joker thought it would be fun to raise the stakes and you couldn't agree more. Wagering a bet of whatever the winner desires. You each laid yours down and finally agreed.

Everything was set up the same as last time. While the screen was loading, you looked towards J who held a half smirk. He was gonna play dirty, you were sure of it. Anticipating it even. Sometimes, it's fun playing dirty. He always made it such.

You grinned, offering words of encouragement. "Good luck J, may the odds be in your favor~"

I was in a writing rut, and this was really fun to do. I hope I didn’t write him too out of character, if I did.

[pavlikovskaya]

the secret history live blogged

forever mad that i got spoilered so much on this book.

anyway hello! and welcome to this … shit fest of the secret history by donna tartt aka the biggest letdown of my life

enjoy! i didn’t

ok whaatttt the fuck. he was walked over?? he was packed and squished under ice?? WHAT DID THIS BUNNY GUY DO TO MAKE Y’ALL SO MAD????? istg what the fuck. cruel cruel fate

four against one, i knew y’all were assholes. you sounded like assholes before i even knew what your names were.

i have to say, i’m not a very big fan on the beginning: hello, my name is richard, i am 28, this is my story. makes it sound like he’s in an AA meeting, but i’ll let this one slide.

years at home dispensable like a plastic cup? fictional history and upbringing tales? [*clears throat in relatable*]

my father was mean, my house ugly, my mum didn’t give me attention, must kill someone to cope and serve the aesthetic™ of rejected, unloved child, brooding and mad at the world. got it.

if richard, plain and poor is the one who kills the rich asshole bc he’s a rich asshole, i might relate to him more than i thought.

[*slams book shut*] okay. okay. am i gonna have to google every other phrase in this godforsaken history book or is donna gonna go easy on my ass?

sounds like a university i would love to go to. oh, pardon me, CoLlEgE.

wait, they’d pay him back for the plane if he GOT IN??? and if he didn’t well then what, soz dude, tough luck , such is life, see ya never? makes a lot of sense. should pay him back regardless imo but hey, i had to pay £50 six times to audition at universities who, all six times, rejected me, so.

three days on a bus and arrival at six in the morning? i cannot fathom a worse scenario.

this prof conducts his selection on a personal level rather than on an academic one, said with a note of sarcasm? is he … you know … ?

ahhhh these saucy saucy tea spilling french people, gotta love em. ‘listen, i know i’ve only met you three minutes ago, but i’m bout to spill some serious tea which i must ask you to keep to yourself and never mention for i have some formidable enemies in the literature division, yes, my very own department, but we all actually love each other. you know, in a very shakespearian ‘i shall murder you at the end of the play but for now, let’s make sweet love under the stars as a witch friend of mine who will later murder you watches’ way. all very platonic. but don’t say a word of it.’

who do you think was with morrow when richard came to see him in the lyceum and what were they talking about? GODDAMN IT, this french bastard put me in a gossipy mood.

bunny — short for edmund…….

god, i love a redhead.

richard and me being whipped by francis and his long, flapping black coats, love to see it.

‘pseudo-intellects and teenage decadents abounded and black clouting was de rigueur’ can I enrol ~now~????

francis talks to cats and bunny yells from his window down at the incest twins to stop snogging in the garden. i can’t wait to see which one am I at the end of the book

henry and julian driving off together? do i smell something…. gay?

THEY WRITE WITH FOUNTAIN PENS????? [*flashbacks from my childhood intensify*].

i do not understand most of these references or sentences and if the whole book is like this, i will throw myself out the window in attempted suicide even though i live on the ground floor.

i have absolutely no idea what they’re on about.

hwhat

francis in black cashmere and cigarette smoke brushed past him and almost touched his arm. how bloody delicious is this??

‘give him some flowers and he’ll enrol you.’ ok, julian is definitely the gay prof everyone falls for.

at this stage, i would rater have voted we kill henry, not bunny, but we’ll see.

‘i was tired of being poor.’ [*buys a tie with pictures of men hunting deer on it*] ‘that’s better.’

‘i believe that it is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.’ donna tartt gave me the book and the reason both.

constantly chuckling at the way richard is so completely mesmerised and intimidated by francis to the point that he’ll duck into a doorway to let him pass even though they’re going to the same lesson.

I don’t know how a ‘bostonian voice’ is supposed to sound like so francis will be slightly british in my mind for the rest of the book.

cubitum eamus? cubitum. eamus? CUBITUM?? EAMUS????? OH! GOD! HELP ME! THE SWEET SWEET HOMOEROTIC FORESHADOWING OF IT ALL!!! throwback to when, in a much too similar vein, boris, upon being asked by theo to say something in russian for him, he said ‘fuck you up the ass’. my heart is racing with yearn. i can’t fucking believe i just read this. it’s time to bust out the annotation tabs again.

oh my gooooddd whAt is henry’s problem????? he reminds me slightly of number one from the umbrella academy, but in a meaner, more show-offy, bastardish way that’s supposed to showcase his superior intelligence over all mortals like fuck you, go read harry potter and chill.

‘meke (s.p.) you Wear it’? i take it meke is actually make but what on earth is (s.p.)? google gave me 238 possible definitions for that acronym and, needless to say, i didn’t bother.

i love how donna’s main characters are funny essentially bc they’re bitches towards other people they deem inferior to them in their internal monologues.

if you were drunk and ‘slam-dancing’ at a party, i don’t have to be stuck up or elitist to judge you and hate on you. even less so if you throw your beer in my face.

‘love that jacket, silk, isn’t it?’ ‘yep, my grandfather’s. totally not from that annoying girl in my dorm whose mate your mates beat up at a party last term for shoving camilla and throwing a beer in her face and who probably only gave me the jacket because she wants to fuck me, nope.’

‘let me get that door for you.’ that’s it, that’s the tweet.

when bunny said they should round up the ‘officious fags and burn them at the stake’ i yelled the loudest what the fuck i’ve ever yelled at a book. i can see now why they killed him. and i bet that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

okay, his true colours are starting to show. it’s even more unnerving when i think about the fact that like half of this stuff is supposed to be true.

called it, they’re boning.

i can’t wait until francis locks lips with richard. i am simply tingling for it. i hope he and camilla have a threesome with richard at this country house. oh wait no, they’re all here. eh, maybe another time.

oh, we finally get some juicy inside gossip

if francis and richard don’t fuck in that gorgeous immense library, i will riot.

okay, what’s henry’s deal? he’s nice now? and he’s oddly … interested in/caring towards richard? like who the fuck says ‘i hope you slept well’ without at least a little affection towards them.

AHAHAHAAHA, NOW I GET ALL THOSE MOON LANDING QUESTIONS ON THE TSH RELATED UQIZZES I STUPIDLY TOOK. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL. imagine them lot in present day completely bewildered and confused at the fact that the whole world is in lockdown for some weird fucking reason. this is the funniest shit ever, swear to god.

dogs get heart attacks?

wow they’re being dicks. that shady shit they’re doing’s so fucking rude aajksdhfkfh and to think i had initially thought richard was the ‘leader’ of their group...

okay, they’re either all into bdsm or they’re some odd breed of late vampires who don’t have much of the traits/qualities of ‘classic’ vampires as they have possibly diminished over the centuries as the species was becoming extinct. maybe witches. hm. or occultists. I REALLY DON’T KNOW!!

richard be like ‘what should I tell you?’ well—and this is merely a suggestion—, how about you start with what they’re actually doing when they’re not hanging out with you?????

i can’t wait for bunny to figure/find out richard’s not actually rich and be a dick about it.

two months??? what kind of bonkers winter vacation between terms is that???

is being constantly cold part of the dark academia aestehtic? cos it certainly seems to be.

what the fuck are these (sp)s bunny keeps putting in his letters??

i hope somebody (henry, or maybe francis? as something that would bring them together?) is fake rich too.

ouuuuu here comes the dark, mental stuff.

richard dropped out of drama to study the classics. if we were villains is a group of people studying shakespeare. coincidence? i think not. it is with dread that i think at the possibility that i might like the other more because so far, i can’t say i’m heavily impressed with tsh.

now i’m all for weird, fancy names, but marchbanks is really an odd one. who the fuck looks at their newborn baby and goes ben? nah. tom? no. MARCHBANKS! perfect.

henry winter saves richard from a piping cold winter. ah, don’t bother, i’ll do it myself [*jumps out the window*]

henry dislikes electric lights? smokes cigarettes without filter? reads milton translated into latin ‘just to see if a language with no noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose’? can this dude be any more pretentious?

BUNNY! IT’S BUNNY! HE’S FAKE RICH THE BASTARD! ALL THAT ‘oops, forgot my wallet’ BULLSHIT, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TEST FOR RICHARD OR JUST RICH PEOPLE LEECHING OFF OTHERS (why spend yours when you can spend theirs?) BUT NOOOO, HE’S BROOOOKE! AND AN ASSHOLE! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! serves him right, the asshole (that gay people being burnt at the stake comment really bothered me despite the fact that i laughed). and not only is he broke and leeching off of henry, he leeches in the most shameless, greedy, extravagant and ignorant way, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu fuck out of here.

ha! he got fat the bastard. found some sugar daddy to sustain you during your last month in italy or what?

this rabbit dude sure has some big balls for a broke ass bitch.

‘let me see your head wound.’ vs ‘your arm.’

‘that sort of tension which i, being rather more disinclined that way than not, am quick to pick up on. i had caught a strong breath of it from francis, a whiff of it at times from julian (…)’ sounds like we got another one boys, a straight dude with the best gaydar in the world. that being said, julian is the fakest bitch in the book so far.

this secrecy is killing the ever-loving shit out of me. argentina one way?? whY

lol if you’re gonna steal his book with the intention of having him come back to the apartment and see all that shit, at least don’t put it in such an obvious place where he couldn’t have possibly missed it. for such a smart guy, you sure are dumb, dude.

francis’ mother be like ‘give that bad boy a kiss from me’ and i’m like HE BETTER.

richard the worst liar. just say your mum called for fuck’s sake! you could get your boyfriend in trouble!

cheesecake cover: ‘please do not steal this, i am on financial aid.’ bunny: [*steals it*] the cheesecake: [*sucks*] me: serves you fucking right, pig.

THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDICAP. I’M YELLING. funniest thing donna tartt ever wrote.

i bet they’re all there sat at the table like nothing happened and weren’t supposed to leave anywhere at all.

called it! motherfuckers.

what the hell is going on. are they a gang of assassins or something?

richard: ‘you killed somebody, didn’t you?’ henry: [*laughs as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and how could you possibly suggest such a thing*] yep

bunny: gays are weirdly obsessed with food, don’t you think? also bunny: [*gets excluded from the bacchanal because he couldn’t stop eating*]

okay. i can see now why this book started the whole dark academia aesthetic

aight, that’s all good and great (far from it) but WHERE IS MY FRANCIS CONTENT????

going through the motions of hating and liking henry every other chapter.

everybody: [*burning clothes, cleaning the car, running this way and that to get rid of evidence*] francis: aight y’all imma take a power nap real quick cool? cool

there is hardly anything in the world i hate more than loose-of-tongues. bunny and that bitch ass hely from the little friend. god, i want to sock each and every single one of them in their stupid bloody loud mouths.

i want to know, i really want to know if there are any bunny apologists or … s…. s… [*grits teeth*] stans out there. don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, i just wanna talk.

if it’s henry and richard and not francis and richard,,,,, i will riot.

boy this henry guy smokes a lot…. more than me in my prime.

as if this dude reenacted the murder he wasn’t even present at in the lobby of a hotel just to torture henry. i can’t believe this character is still alive and has been for so long.

FINALLY! one francis moment that indicated there will be no more francis moments…. .

funny that, reading the secret history put something into perspective about the goldfinch for me.

i love how richard just casually throws it in there whenever he happens to mention camilla that he loves her and wants to kiss her and that she’s so beautiful and blah blah blah and then it’s never brought up again ever because he’s constantly going on and on about henry.

wait, don’t tell me it’s happening now, in the middle of the book! that would be most unexpected as there’s a whole entire book following.

henry is such a stone cold bitch, i wonder where they put his heart when they made him, in his ass?

don’t tell me henry went boxer dogs on JULIAN?!?!?! he wouldn’t. … would he?

i don’t know. i get it, obviously, the gravity of the situation, but going as far as killing him to silence him is a bit … extreme in my opinion.

thank you, charles, for being the only voice of reason in this madness.

okay, i understand it’s in richard’s best interest not to be involved, but they called him there to what, make him listen to all this and then send him on his merry way?

charles: well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o’clock, you hardly think of what you’re going to feed the copse for dinner. [*crickets*] francis: hey, how about asparagus?

henry: someone’s coming. quick! act normal! richard: [*turns to inspect the trunk of a tree*] [*footsteps approach*] richard: [*inspection of tree intensifies!!*]

you’re a bit late, bunny, just saying.

and now what the fuck is the rest of the book about? what do we do, let’s run, let’s stay, let’s go to the police, what do we do with him?

i love how richard describes himself as part of the process: we dwelt on it, we convinced ourselves, we devised plans when in reality, he was only there as an attaché, he wasn’t included much, almost at all in the actual planning process of it other than to give his insight on the poison route because henry thought it was his area of expertise so to speak when, really, it wasn’t and then was told about the other plan because they simply thought he should know. even then henry tells him ‘you can go now, if you like’ because there wasn’t anything they sort of needed him for anymore since he wasn’t going to be there, he was just a pair of ears. i like to think he was there in hopes to maybe dissuade them, try to stop them, tell them how mad it is, tell them there’s another way, but he didn’t do much of that either (not that I think he would’ve succeeded anyway, had he tried, henry’s one stubborn motherfucker). he didn’t come up with shit, he wasn’t supposed to even be there, i think, much less contribute in any way. had bunny not told him about the bacchanal, richard would have probably found out about it after it was already done, he was only included for the fucks of it and yet, he talks as if he was right there in the room with them, brainstorming ideas how to kill him. and i get how it only comes from a sense of obvious guilt because he knew about it, he was there and didn’t do anything to stop it, but he’s by far not one to have agreed to the whole thing or condoned it in any way from what he’s told us in book one. he himself says in the very same paragraph that he only watched. he’s very much a dark academia nick carraway type of character and i hate it. because i like him. he deserves better.

i’m pretty sure that the reason that serial killer autobiography you picked up in an airport was bereft of details is because no publishing house would allow such lurid specifications that might shock, disgust, enrage or give ideas to the reader in their book, not because the author is shy, richard, but ok, let’s move on. actually no, let’s not. you can’t expect the autobiography of a killer to only tell you about the murders, especially since in this particular instance, he was caught and went to prison. of course he’s going to tell you more about that than the killings, have you any idea what prison life is like? how much it eats away at your soul? how it crushes your spirit if you have one and how hard it is to get over? the time he spent in jail is going to haunt him forever and after such a long time in there, however long it was, you hardly think about your crime as anything but a huge mistake that was not worth the torment if you’re not a downright psychopath which, since he came out and wrote a book about it, doesn’t seem to be the case here but i guess you’ll find out all about it soon enough.

OH! a francis moment???? could this be it? please dear god may this be it.

it wasn’t, but there’s another one!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

‘it’s fun, i promise you.’ [*dies*]

if this is it, if that’s all, i am not forgiving this book.

‘i tried to pull him out but it was no good; his head lolled back uselessly’ YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S DEAD, RICHARD. [*scoffs*] ‘uselessly’

i wish i held any of my teachers and professors in at least half the high regard henry holds julian. i also wish they were half as competent and passionate about teaching as julian.

I DON’T BELIEVE ‘HE WAS JUST THERE’. IT’S BORIS AND THEO AT 6 AM IN THAT NEW YORK BAR ALL OVER AGAIN. HE’S ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE RICHARD WENT ALL ‘YOU’RE NOT HOT’ ON HIS ASS AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE. if they don’t kiss again—

i can’t help but admire the way they communicate sensitive information to each other in ancient greek, they sound like characters from jane austen novels while talking about drugs and saving face from tabloids and gossip, it’s rather amazing.

quite pointless to go through all that trouble to hide the cigarettes and deny having been smoking when the smell will be there no matter what and she’ll know for sure. i swear, all these seemingly smart ass people are actually idiots

my question is why would anyone, drunk or not, for any reason, leave the top down in the rain? why? what possible pleasure could one get from driving in the middle of the rain with rain actually pouring down on them?

isn’t linoleum a bit tacky for a house that looks like it’s been in architectural digest?

why is charles so on edge? why are they all always hiding??? camilla and her late night 3 am phone calls, her secret phone code with henry, charles mysteriously going out for cigarettes so brusquely without a word in the middle of the night and refusing to talk about it, what are they all always hiding?! nobody trusts one another with anything, it’s very annoying, to be honest. aren’t they supposed to be super best friends? you’d think that after a bacchanal and a double homicide, you wouldn’t keep secrets from one another, but i guess not.

ah, shame. was kind of hoping for some sneaky richard/francis basement action, but alas. what’s their ship name anyway, richis?

i just spoilered myself again, twice, by going through the tsh tag on tumblr and then looking for francis/richard fanfics on ao3 and finding out that francis marries? gets with? a girl who’s apparently called fucking priscilla. donna tartt really has a knack for weird fancy names, huh? i’m here for it tbh

richard you fucking snitch! you had one job!!!!!!

why the fuck are they still keeping him in the dark about shit? henry and charles quarrelled and charles is in jail and henry still won’t tell him what’s so bad about it and why he wants richard to handle all this shit instead of him and why bunny’s murder still matters and why why just why are they still using him as their pawn??

seriously, this exchange was about the worst they’ve had so far. he himself knows it: ‘there was a silence during which I felt acutely the hopelessness of ever trying to get to the bottom of anything with henry. he was like a propagandist, routinely withholding information, leaking it only when it served his purposes.’ THEN WALK AWAY. SAY NO. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN. FUCKING—UGH!!!!!!!

they’re all so shamelessly using him… i can’t read. it’ll kill him, one way or another.

these ungrateful little shits i swear to god. richard bails him out, he’s all thankful and sweet when he wants him to do ‘this one little favour’ of taking him to his francis’ house so he can break in and when richard’s like i don’t have a car, he immediately turns sour and passive aggressive like you know what?! richard hasn’t slept all night and all morning waiting for your ass to go to court cos you were a drunken idiot and decided YET AGAIN that driving in that state is a great idea so he can bail you out and when you are finally out, you start being fussy and then it’s all ‘right. thanks a lot’??? richard doesn’t fucking need this shit! y’all are horrible friends. he’s not your bloody servant. how about you take that stick and privilege out of your asses and start treating him a bit more kindly, huh???

‘henry made me swear not to tell.’ WHAT. WHAT. BITCH, GET THE FUCK OUT.

this is by far the most toxic friendship i’ve ever heard of.

oh wow that kiss was hot. i thought it was just a speculation that they were incestuous with each other, but i-i guess not.

FINALLY it gets interesting. Mr Abernathy spilling some piping hot tea mmm

he literally just said i’d sleep with you if you got drunk enough to let me. oh dear god help me.

oh fuck it got sad. It’s patrick and brad all over again ugh always happens to the best of gays

finally richard my boy starts hating them, as he should. except francis, you’re a dick in that respect. he’s only joking for fuck’s sake, don’t get all butthurt, jesus. sensitive much?

uuuuuu tunts Tunts TUNTS! shit is hitting the fan. henry, henry, henry, our ‘golden boy’. nothing but a crook himself, the motherfucker. i’ve been waiting for this reveal since the beginning of the fucking book. if they gang up on him and kill him, i will never stop laughing.

it’s as if he’s begging to be excluded and hated, i swear. why is he being such a prick? does he love her? is that it? then there are a BILLION other ways to go about it, he doesn’t have to be such a shady bitch!! besides, wasn’t he in cahoots with julian?

‘i was depressed, i thought if i slept here it might make me feel better.’ that’s so precious tho….. funny, but precious. such child-like innocence in this grown ass intoxicated man, i melt.

clever, luring him out of the playground under the false pretext of a drink when he’s had plenty. think like a drunk

the only consistent, recurring and ever-present elements in donna tartt’s books are the hors d’oeuvres.

it’s so cute how charles needs him, i—

girls be like: watching a film, listening to a podcast, talking on the phone, having dinner, figure painting, filing nails, writing an essay and doing their makeup all at the same time

this so called love he feels for camilla is so unfounded and feeble and just … it seems so out of the fucking blue every single time he mentions it, i can’t read this shit. IT’S SO SEE-THROUGH!!

okay WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST READ. WHAT. THE ACTUAL. MOTHERFUCKING. FUCK. one second he’s ‘i love her so much’ the next he wants to strangle and rape her?????????????? i have zero goddamn words. i am fucking speechless. i don’t think i have ever been this confused at something since i watched the turning. i don’t think you realise quite how done i am with this fucking book at this point.

i think i do hate henry more than bunny and i’m afraid i’ll like if we were villains better.

richard: [*takes sleeping pills*] also richard: [*surprised he can’t keep up with the film he started watching after taking sleeping pills*]

‘look,’ said francis. ‘let’s just go, if we leave now we can be in montreal by dark. nobody will ever find us.’ vs ‘well, i’m not going,’ said boris serenely. ‘fuck that, i’m running away. do you want to come?’

this henry bitch is the most difficult piece of shit i’ve ever fucking encountered. ‘you mean, it’s something you need to tell me in private?’ oh FUCK OFF AND STEP OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. IT’S ONE THING I ASK OF YOU, YOU TWAT.

huh, i thought he was doing this shit on purpose, leaving the page face down on the table so that julian could see it, i thought it was some sick twisted plan of his.

lmao called it. everybody saw through julian’s façade except richard and the others and i completely understand. in a fashion much like julian’s, i think he knew that, he saw it, but just chose to ignore it because the image he posed and richard himself constructed of him in his mind was much more favourable to what he really was. i mean, fuck, who the fuck says ‘i hope we are all ready to leave the phenomenal world and enter into the sublime’ with their whole chest and mean it?

if you think he’s not coming, why sit in silence staring out the window, ignoring everyone and wasting everybody’s time instead of telling them from the very start this piece of information you have on hand that could save everybody a lot of trouble, time and overthinking? why be all mysterious and enigmatic about it? just tell them from the start, you’re not in a film for fuck’s sake……..

charles, one of the four of them (henry, camilla, julian and himself) might be the one i despise the least, almost like had he not been so brutal towards camilla,,,, but i don’t know if i can trust her, that whole scene seemed … staged somehow. i don’t know. i don’t know

didn’t expect henry would turn on julian too though. first real thing he’s done all book.

agatha

christie

writes

good

mysteries.

richard does seem like the type of fellow who would grow up in a household where his dad would strike his mum for no fucking reason.

okay so did henry punch him for that comment or not? what was all that father beating mother bit for?

#boysweekendinthecountry! 🤪 #partytime! #ignoringourproblems! #woooo!!!

oh my fucking god chARLES!!!

yes, henry, great, brilliant, fucking splendid idea to antagonise the man pointing a gun at you.

MY PAUL SMITH SHIRT!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHASFSHDGFDK

i love how absolutely nobody noticed fucking richard BLEEDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

‘expected everyone to stop and look at me. no one did.’ and they never will. that’s your whole friendship summed up in two lines. you don’t matter to them, you never did, you’re absolutely unimportant. just a tool, a pawn, a nobody. sorry you had to get shot to realise that.

‘’he shot me.’ somehow, this remark did not elicit the dramatic response i expected. before i had the chance to elaborate—’ ELABORATE WHAT? ELABORATE WHAT?! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO SAY!! GOD, this hurts to read. this angers me beyond words, but it also fucking hurts so bad…

nothing, not even getting shot can make richard lose his wit

disGUSTING henry and camilla moment. I HATE THEM

oh shit. did not see that coming. well, glad that’s over.

ugh, time to read how francis got hetero married :\

[*chokes*] DUE TO THE VERY EXCELLENT EXCUSE OF HAVING A GUNSHOT WOUND IN THE STOMACH I DIDN’T TAKE MY FRENCH EXAM YAY!!! god, i fucking love Richard.

the thing is, right, i read that line, ‘i managed to get out of taking my french exams the next week’ about three or four times and somehow, the following line or even the words ‘gunshot wound’ never made it to my eyes! i don’t understand how! but i’m completely happy about that given the fact that i spoiler myself on every single book i read by reading ahead like an idiot..

how much do you want to bet that it was the inn keep who called the ambulance and not those fuckers? because of course henry, dead henry’s more important than slowly dying, almost dead but not quite richard.

despite everything, it sounds like he had a nice summer in brooklyn. good for him. god knows he deserved it, the poor guy.

yeah no, fuck henry’s post-mortem hero narrrative.

lol, at least he got a nice car out of it. this book shows me once again that things happen just the way they should happen.

OH MY FUCKING GOD NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT READ. I DO NOT SEE. I REFUSE TO COMPREHEND THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION.

i will not say a WORD on this, much less his letter. i am hurt, i am wounded, i am grieving, my head is full of thots and i cannot speak. i died on this bed.

ugh [*rolls eyes*] this fucking guy again with his sudden, out of my ass declarations of love towards camilla. JUST GIVE IT UP ALREADYYYYYYYY!!! TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES!!! (francis) i wouldn’t be surprised if she was married or engaged and just didn’t bother to mention it ‘because he never asked’ or some bullshit excuse like that.

I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY [*deep breath*] I FUCKING HATE HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s telling me about all these people and where they ended up after graduation but not only do i not give a single solitary fuck, i actually don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about?? like who the fuck is bram guernesnesnica? rooney wayne? what the fuck do i care what jack jud and frank did?

the only people i do remotely care about are the professors (the saucy french teacher and the boring, senile dude who wouldn’t shut up and who kept referring to richard as ‘jerry’ in his grad school recommendations letter ahahah that is the content i signed up for, not dumb and dumber’s bar or whatever) and the cat charles left at francis’ country house who lives in a ten fucking room apartment in boston.

love how ionic the whole marion storyline turned out to be. marred another corcoran who looked just like bunny and had a daughter who, despite having her and his mother’s name ended up being nicknamed also bunny. i’m sorry, i just—i have to laugh.

[*slams fists on the table*] THE AGENTS??? YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME ABOUT THE BLOODY FBI AGENTS???!!!!!! CAN THIS BOOK PLEASE JUST FUCKING END ALREADY??????!!!!!!!!

a dream. a dream. if it’s a dream of henry i will personally shoot you and make sure i aim a little higher than your abdomen this time.

[*shoots the book*]

oh, you died and suddenly you have a sense of humour?

‘that information is classified’ [*shoots a torpedo at the book*]

‘are you happy?’ / ‘not very.’ vs ‘are you happy here?’ / ‘not particularly.’

okay. so. final thoughts: fuck this book.

good night

[flamesoftheresistance]

I’M THE GOOD GUY Poe Dameron X Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron X First Order! Reader

Warnings: slight mentions of death

Word Count: 1346 words

‘This doesn’t feel right.’ you had been thinking to yourself throughout the battle. You along with other storm-troopers of the first order that you had been leading were on a planet trying to convince them to join your side instead of the Resistance. Everything turned for the worse when an X-wing of the resistance had arrived and an all out confrontation broke out between the two. 

The TIE pilots were obviously outnumbering them and ruthlessly attacking, and your heart just didn’t want to accept that this is what the First Order would be doing. When you joined, it was because you wanted a better universe, one where balance and peace was restored. It was just one X-wing, it wasn’t fair to have all fire concentrated on it. Your heart lept in your chest as one of the TIE’s managed to get a good shot and you saw the plan go crashing down.

‘No this definitely isn’t right.’ you said mentally, pretending to have a failure with your ship and maneuvering it downwards back to land.

‘Something's wrong, go on ahead I’ll meet you back after repairs.’ you said through you comm. 

Since the squadron was under your control it went back to its own stations, considering that you were the highest in authority to answer to on the specific mission and General Hux and Kylo Ren were far from where you were.

‘Shit, I hope they’re okay.’ you thought to yourself making your way towards the X-wing which didn’t look as mangled up as you had assumed it to be. Much to your surprise you found the cockpit empty.

‘What? Where did they go?’ you thought to yourself.

‘Hands where I can see ‘em’ a voice from behind you demanded.

‘Wait, this is not what it looks like.’ you said turning around to see a gorgeous man with tanned skin and black curly locks.

‘Came to finish the job I see. Did they send a girl to win me over and join them?’ he joked sarcastically.

‘Really? REALLY? I come all the way here to check on you, if you’re okay because you are also a person who didn’t deserve to be outnumbered and shot down like that especially since you did not even attack and I even come to check on you clearly unarmed and you have the nerve to point your blaster at me AND FREAKING ACCUSE ME OF A SCHEME?’ you nearly scream, clearly frustrated with the situation.

‘Wow.’ he breathed out.

‘What?’ you huffed in annoyance.

‘You’re really cute when your angry.’ he smiled.

‘Wow, and the best apology award goes to..what was your name again rebel?’ you glared.

‘You forgot to add the scum. I’m wounded. It’s Poe by the way.’ he joked.

‘Listen here rebel, you may be the bad guy but I wouldn’t degrade anyone like that. Have they brainwashed you or something?’ you counter.

‘Sweetheart, I’m the good guy and you’re the one that’s been brainwashed.’ he joked.

‘Sure, seeing you’re all good I don’t think I have a reason to stay here.’ you sighed while walking away.

Poe was amazed that you chose to turn your back on him even if the two of you were mortal enemies.

‘Unarmed and turning your back on the enemy, what are you the laughing stock of the First Order?’ he teased.

‘You said it yourself, you’re the good guy. Now act like one.’ you said without looking back.

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain, someone had shot you. You gave a glance at the man behind you, only to see that his expression matched yours as you fell to the ground.

‘Sir, we picked up your distress signals, luckily we got to you before that person attacked you. Were you being held hostage sir?’ inquired the other recruit who had assumed that Poe was in danger and shot from a safe hiding place.

‘No, no, no’ Poe yelled running to you and grabbing you in his arms.

‘Good guy my ass, you’re all the same. Murderers.’ you spat before your vision started to blur and the last thing you felt was being carried up by strong arms.

You dreamt about things that were most important to you. Your friends, your home, your parents. All of those things were gone and taken from you by the resistance. You remembered the kind smiles on their faces and how they had always fought to keep the galaxy in order and the symbol of the resistance flashed before your eyes as you remembered their deaths, how they were brutally murdered along with so many more people. The sounds of their screams brought you back to reality. You tried to sit up but a horrible pain in your abdomen pulled you right back down.

‘Easy there’ said a familiar voice.

‘You, you did this. Good guy my ass, I should never have trusted you. For a second your victory faced back there had me fooled but trust me I will not be fooled again’ you growled.

He walked over to you and placed his hand on yours, a sad look taking over his features.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but we will take care of you here. I promise.’ he said, eyes shining with honesty.

‘Here?’ you narrowed your eyes at him, ‘Where’s here?’

‘The resistance base, well the one on ship.’ he replied as if nothing was wrong.

‘Where’s my ship.’ you frantically asked.

‘In the hangar, why?’ he asked, his worry mimicking yours.

‘They’ll track you, you’ll be killed. I need to get to my ship.’ You tried getting up but he held you in place.

‘You’re in no condition to move.’ Poe pleaded.

‘Carry me to it, youll die if they track you here.’ you sigh.

‘Why are you protecting us?’ he questioned, picking you up in his arms.

‘Because I don’t want to be the reason for an attack that you didn’t start yourselves.’ you replied as he hurriedly carried you back to your ship.

You noticed the confused looks of people as Poe ran past them, and took you to your TIE fighter, once inside you disabled the tracking mechanism. You could see the crowd of resistance fighters around your ship.

‘Go to hyperdrive and get as far away from here as you, it wont be long till they get here, they’ll be looking for me.’ You sighed.

‘Come on.’ he smiled, ‘lemme get you back to the room.’

‘No, I need to leave, I’ll be fine. I need to go back.’ You argued, fear evident in your eyes.

‘There’s place for you here.’ he said as he held your hand.

‘Look at how they look at me, at this ship, there’s no place for me here, besides can’t risk getting shot again.’ you joked.

‘I’ll change their minds, stay. Why are you like this? How could you be so different from the First Order?’ He pressed.

‘I could say the same thing about you.’ you joked.

‘They’re all just like me, I swear it.’ he smiles but with a hint of sadness.

‘I knew you were going to shoot me Poe, I’m wounded both physically and emotionally.’ you rolled your eyes.

‘That’s not what I meant, I don’t even know your name.’ he ran a hand through his hair.

‘Its YN-6357, but i’m sometimes referred to as Zisel by my superiors as well I’m a bit blinded by compassion.’ you giggle.

‘Don’t go, your hurt.’ he begged.

‘I can’t stand. Yes. But i can fly, I can fly anything.’ she teased as he moved away.

‘Stay safe Poe, don’t go running into the First Order so carelessly next time.’ she smile sadly and pulled out of the hanger.

‘They can’t even give her a proper name or title that isn’t degrading.’ he said to himself with clenched fists and a heavy feeling in his heart.

He turned around remembering that they had to now change their location, and started walking to the General. 

‘Make preparations, we’re about to go into hyper-drive.’ he commanded.

Authors Note: Part 2? Yes or no, lemme know.

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 6

[Read on AO3] | [First chapter] | [Next chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: Angel and his fledgling family face down their main rival, but the war is only just beginning. Alastor's willpower is tested yet again, and with Angel's talent for wearing him down, he isn't sure how much longer it will hold.  'Anything you might ask of me' was a provision of the contract, after all.

— — –

At the sound of his father’s voice, Angel went completely rigid in his seat, stricken with panic of a sort Alastor hadn’t seen in him for weeks. Alastor’s head snapped in the direction of the sound and found Enrico leaving a nearby table to approach their booth. Damn it! He had been so lost in enjoying Angel’s company that his vigilance had slipped; he never even saw Enrico enter the bar. Yet now there he was, and there was no way to avoid confronting him.

“I think you got the wrong guy,” Angel answered, sure to keep his voice level as he tilted his hat downward to shadow his face. His grip on Alastor’s hand seemed to steady him. “The name’s Angel Giardino. Whoever you’re lookin’ for, I never heard of ‘em.”

“Very funny,” Enrico said, his expression a mixture of relief and anger. “Where the hell’ve you been? Your ma’s been worried sick, and don’t even get me started on Molly.” Angel winced at that; of all his relatives, Molly was the only one he bore no ill will. Looking around at the group, his father asked, “And who’re you people?”

“This’s my family,” Angel said firmly. They knew his father’s people had been looking for him—but considering they were looking for an Antonia Dellarosa and everyone he dealt with lately knew him as Angel Giardino, the search had been fruitless. The plan was for him to introduce himself and his new position once they were more established, but it seemed that was no longer an option.

“You know this guy, boss?” one of the capos asked, understandably confused. Between Angel’s recently-bleached hair and his softer features, there was little to no resemblance between him and Enrico, and none of the others had heard his old name either. The embarrassment of being outed to his men flashed across Angel’s face briefly before he composed himself again.

“Nah,” he answered coolly. “And he sure as hell don’t know shit about me.”

“In that case,” Venture piped up, watching Enrico with venom in her eyes, “I don’t think we have any further business together.”

“Who d’ya think you are to make that call?” Enrico asked, looking her up and down and seeming somewhat confused by her image. “Another woman that thinks she’s a man?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Venn Hassan.” She offered her hand, but he ignored it, so she instead gestured to Angel and went on, “I’m Don Giardino’s consigliere.”

Enrico let out a bark of cold laughter. “Don? You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. How much is she payin’ you to play this little game?” Alastor was making a concentrated effort at controlling his irritation so his static wouldn’t give him away, but that man was certainly testing him.

“It ain’t a fuckin’ game, and if you know what’s good for ya, you’re gonna take us seriously,” Angel growled, gripping Alastor’s hand a little tighter. The demon returned the gesture, hoping to convey that he would offer whatever support was needed without overstepping his bounds and trying to speak for the boss. If at any point he felt the situation was getting out of hand, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in—but until then, Angel had the floor. “We’ll see if you’re still laughin’ when I run your ass outta town.”

“All right, that’s enough. This is cute and all, but I’m done messin’ around. Get your ass over here and I’m takin’ you home.”

“Look, he already said to fuck off,” Cherri snapped, unable to subdue her protective feelings toward Angel, especially when it came to his father. “Learn to take a damn hint.”

“Stay out of this, zoccola.”

Angel responded with a string of impassioned Italian, releasing Alastor’s hand and shoving to his feet. “Walk away, Dellarosa,” he snarled.

Enrico let out a scoff and took a step forward to rest both hands on the table. “Or what?”

With a snap of Angel’s fingers, every demon at the table was on their feet and reaching for a concealed weapon, be it the standard pistol carried by the capos or something more creative like Cherri’s knuckledusters or Venture’s knives. Even Alastor had his shadows at the ready, willing to do whatever was necessary if it meant protecting Angel. Maybe part of him was especially eager to repay the suffering Enrico had caused.

With a look of almost giddy delight, Angel leaned against the table to mirror his father’s position and asked sweetly, “You sure ya wanna find out?”

A moment passed in tense stillness as if Enrico were determining how serious the group was about defending their don. Finally, he lifted his hands and took a step back. Looking Angel in the eye, he added, “This conversation ain’t finished.” Then with a last resentful glare, he stalked back to the table where some of his own goons were waiting.

“That was pretty great,” Angel snickered as he sat back down, “but you can all relax now. Sit down; you’re makin’ a scene.”

“You sure you don’t wanna leave?” Cherri asked, eyeing him cautiously.

“What, let that asshole chase us out? No fuckin’ way. Somebody get me another one of these.” He waved his nearly-empty glass.

Despite their efforts, the group couldn’t seem to go back to the same level of carefree enjoyment as before now that they knew there was a hostile presence there in the bar with them. Enrico repeatedly stole glowering looks in their direction, and Alastor tried to return each one with an equally intimidating glare of his own. After another round of drinks, Venture was the first to call it a night, giving some excuse about all the work there was to do in the morning. One of the others offered to ‘escort’ her to the hotel and was immediately shot down with a sinister hiss and a flash of yellow eyes. On her way out, she gave Alastor a look as if to remind him that Angel was his responsibility. As if he could’ve forgotten.

Although it was nearing midnight when the remaining group left the lounge, Cherri and the others were planning to find another bar, one that would be, as she said, “more fun.” Nudging Angel, she asked, “You in, babe?”

“Eh, I don’t think so,” he said apologetically. “Pretty sure I just downed a whole bottle’s worth of gin, so I’m done for tonight. Go ahead; me and Al can get back on our own.”

Cherri frowned, looking up at Alastor mistrustfully as if he were the one who had suggested this plan. “You sure? I can come with if—”

“Babe,” Angel said pointedly. “We got it. Just go.” Though she clearly disapproved, she still conceded, wrinkling her nose at Alastor as she left with the waiting capos.

“I’d ask you to do that shadow thing to get us back,” Angel said, starting down the sidewalk in the direction of the hotel, “but I’m pretty sure it’d make me puke. So I guess we’re walkin’.”

“Normally I would say it’s good to get some fresh air, but I’m not sure that applies to downtown New York,” Alastor noted, pleased to finally have the boss’s attention to himself again. The boy was a social butterfly and, in group settings, always had someone else to talk to, so it seemed the only time they could talk properly was when it was just the two of them. “Just try not to stumble into traffic, would you? I’d hate to ‘make a scene’ trying to rescue you.”

“Hardy-fuckin’-har.” Angel rolled his eyes. “I ain’t that drunk. But if you’re so worried…” He stepped a little closer and slipped his arm through Alastor’s to hold onto him as they walked, the same as he had on the first night they met. And, the same as the first time, it still made Alastor’s heart quicken. They received an odd look or two from others passing by, but he hardly noticed.

It was only a few blocks from the Eclipse Lounge to the hotel, or Giardino Central, as Angel sometimes called it. Alastor spent the time alternating between enjoying Angel’s nearness and debating whether he should bring up the altercation with Enrico. It wasn’t a pleasant topic, but it also couldn’t be ignored forever. He wound up deciding to let the boss bring it up when he was ready; until then, Alastor would keep his mouth shut.

“So, seein’ as I’m sloshed,” Angel said casually as they strolled into the lobby, “you’re gonna do the gentleman thing and make sure I get to my room safe, right?”

While Alastor had never thought of himself as a gentleman by any means, he recognized that it wasn’t really a question. “Better that than have you pass out in the hall halfway.”

They took the elevator up to floor 15. During the ride, Angel’s hand slid slowly down Alastor’s arm to reach his, fingers lacing through the Radio Demon’s while he ‘innocently’ pressed closer. When they stepped out of the elevator, Angel was practically leading him by his hand, and he hardly had the capacity to argue, as his mind was busily racing trying to figure out how to handle the situation if it went where he was expecting.

As they reached his suite, the boss turned to face Alastor, leaning his back against the door. “What’re you plannin’ to do after this? I know ya don’t sleep, and it’s not like you’re gonna go back out. So whaddaya do with yourself?”

“You might be surprised how many ways there are to entertain oneself in a hotel filled with hundreds of mortals and demons alike. There’s always something interesting to be found if you’re willing to look.”

“Uh-huh.” Leaning forward a bit, Angel took both his hands to pull him closer. The spark in his eyes and the silk in his voice said he had only one goal at the moment. “What if I said I had a better idea to keep you entertained?”

Alastor gulped reflexively. “I would be…curious as to what you had in mind.”

“Lemme give you a hint.” Grasping his lapels, Angel dragged him down into a firm kiss. He froze for a split-second, indecisive, before his instincts and desires took over altogether.

His arms snaked around the boy’s slender waist to keep him close, and he easily licked his way into Angel’s mouth, eager to touch and taste, to devour everything that was offered. Angel let out a high-pitched whimper of shock at his enthusiasm but held on tighter and tried to match it. Listening to the boy whine and moan around his tongue was almost too much excitement for the Radio Demon to handle, but eventually, Angel had to break away for a deep breath.

“Shit,” he panted, fingers still tightly clenched on Alastor’s coat. “And here I was…startin’ to think you didn’t want me.”

“I do,” Alastor confessed quietly, and Angel shivered in his arms.

“Then why don’t ya come inside? And we’ll see if you can handle me.”

Despite his every instinct screaming at him to say yes, despite the fact that—for the first time in six weeks—he was finally breathing clearly again, he forced himself to take a step back. “I can’t.”

“Can’t…what?”

“Take you to bed. I’m sorry. You’ve been drinking, and if there’s any chance you might regret it later—”

“I won’t,” Angel insisted. “I told ya, I ain’t that drunk, and besides, I wanted this way before we started drinkin’.” He must have seen that Alastor was genuinely uncomfortable with the idea, as he sighed and changed tacks. Lifting the Radio Demon’s hand to his cheek and nuzzling against it, he instead suggested, “Okay, even if you don’t wanna have sex”—I do! My interest or lack thereof is not the issue here!—“will you just…stay? I mean, actually, literally sleep with me?”

Well. He couldn’t see much harm in that, he supposed. He would hate to give the impression that he didn’t want to be close to Angel; there was little else in the world he wanted more. As long as he could maintain his self-control and not allow the boy to (once again) wear down his resistance, it should be fine.

He nodded, and Angel rewarded him with a bright smile. He unlocked the door and led Alastor in, then asked him to wait in the living room for a minute. Once he disappeared into his room and shut the door behind him, Alastor’s chest seized all at once, forcing him to rush to the spare bedroom, which appeared untouched, and cough out his unexpressed feelings into a trash bin. No matter how many times it happened, it always seemed to hurt as much as the first, and the few seconds of being unable to breathe always panicked him all over again.

What am I supposed to do? He wasn’t sure whom he was addressing. His lungs, maybe. I can’t sleep with him while he’s drunk, and now is really not the time for a full-blown pour-your-heart-out confession. Whatever mercy he was hoping for from his condition wasn’t forthcoming, as he needed another moment to spit out the last few petals, even noticing what might have been rosebuds among them. Lovely. Wiping his mouth, he tied up the trash bag and prayed (figuratively speaking) that housekeeping would take care of it soon.

He left the room in time for Angel’s bedroom door to swing open, revealing a scantily-clad Angel that made his heart skip yet again. He could only hope this wasn’t just a ploy to seduce him, as he wasn’t sure how well he could resist seduction at the moment. Especially after that kiss. Joining Angel in his room, he slipped off his jacket to set it aside, then stepped out of his shoes, removed his tie, and unbuttoned his collar. Angel had already crawled into the king size bed, which made his thin frame look even smaller, and he pouted when he saw that Alastor wasn’t undressing any further.

“You really sleep like that?”

“We’ve established I don’t sleep much, cher,” the demon pointed out, joining him in bed. The boy wasted no time in snuggling up to his side, the softness of his body easily illustrating that he wasn’t wearing much under his long nightshirt. Alastor took a deep breath to center his thoughts on something other than how nice Angel’s body felt against his. “Ahem. Good night.” He gestured distractedly at the lights, and they snapped out at once.

“Mm-hm.” The boy’s fingers curled on the fabric of Alastor’s shirt as if to keep him from leaving. The room was quiet, other than the ambient sounds of the city far below, and Alastor waited a few minutes for his charge to fully relax and sleep.

He didn’t. Instead, he spoke softly. “Al?”

“Hm?”

“Will you…kiss me again?”

“Angel—”

“I ain’t askin’ for anything else,” the boy assured him quickly. “I’m not tryna trick ya into sex or somethin’. I just. It was really nice a minute ago, and…I want more.”

Did he have to phrase it that way? Did his voice have to be so achingly sweet? As if this weren’t difficult enough already. “You were serious when you said you wanted it before you started drinking?” he asked quietly, turning onto his side to face Angel and resting a hand tentatively on his hip.

The boy chuckled. “I’ve wanted it for weeks,” he whispered against Alastor’s lips, and a chill ran down the Radio Demon’s spine. Willing himself to stay in control, he took the invitation for another kiss. As before, Angel opened to him without argument, allowing him freedom to explore as he liked. The boy’s hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders, while Alastor’s full attention was on enjoying the sweetness of his mouth.

For maybe twenty minutes, maybe longer, they remained wrapped up in one another, lips moving together, tongues intertwined, Angel pressing closer still to drape his leg over Alastor’s. The demon let his hand slide down to rest on Angel’s bare thigh and told himself firmly that this was as far as he would go, that the pleasure of being so close and being desired should be enough to satisfy him. It wasn’t, of course, as there was no possible way he could get ‘enough’ of Angel’s attention—but his willpower managed to hold, and when Angel pulled away from him, he didn’t protest.

The boy’s head nuzzled into his shoulder, breath falling against Alastor’s neck as he muttered, “G’night.”

“Good night, cher.”

This time, it wasn’t long before Angel’s body softened against his, relaxing further as he slipped from consciousness. It was true that Alastor didn’t sleep often, and this night was no exception. Why waste time sleeping when he finally had his love in his arms?

This was a very delicate position to be in, he knew. There were a million ways it could go horribly wrong, a million ways it could go horribly right, and he was sure to drive himself mad by trying to analyze each one. Instead, he resolved to enjoy this moment for what it was and hope that Angel still felt the same in the morning.

A much less complicated but equally concerning matter forced its way back into his mind: their run-in with Enrico. This conversation ain’t finished, he’d said. That was a threat if Alastor had ever heard one. Now that he knew, more or less, what had become of Angel, he was sure to be plotting some way of ruining it for him and bringing him back under the Dellarosa family’s control. Well, Alastor simply wouldn’t have that. Enrico might be intelligent, he might be strategic, he might be powerful, but the bottom line was that his spite was no match for Alastor’s affection or Angel’s passion.

Still, the sooner they neutralized him, the better.

[theliterarywolf]

You lived long enough to see yourself become the villain, congratulations XD I kid, I'm pretty against love triangles myself. As a writer, what are some bad examples of love triangles you've seen in fiction that made you wanna swear em off? Korra's needless one & whatever the hell was going on with the Team 7 assholes are usually the first ones that come to my mind when I think of times I said in my head "Eugh, Christ Almighty, I gotta sit through this shit..."

When I think of ‘FUCK YOU, JUST CHOOSE ALREADY!!’ love triangles, the main ones that bring headaches back to my mind at the thought are the infamous Edward/Bella/Jacob thing from Twilight, whatever the FUCK was going on with Vampire Knight (seriously, FUCK Vampire Knight), and way that Kikyo/Kagome/Inuyasha was handled in the original run of Inuyasha.

With the first one, Twilight is so badly written at the end of the day, but even from day 1 you could tell that Meyer meant for Edward and Bella to be the final state of things and that Jacob was just there to serve as a doorstop every Edward needed to be out of the picture because... Potatoes. But it was just pushed so hard for marketing sake (’Oh, I’m Team Edward!’ ‘I’m Team Jacob’ ‘I’m Team ‘Can we just remember how many poor bookstore employees were made the wrath of middle-aged Twilight fans back in the day? From underaged female fans getting shoved and trampled by adults trying to get the books to underaged male fans getting creepily hit-on by adults since their stores would have them dress up for events?’) and for forced drama in a story that was already not handling drama well... And not handling characters well... And not handling a lot of things well... And --

Vampire Knight... Just... I... You know what? No. I can’t even begin to go into this because life is too short. The love-triangle nonsense here started off annoying, got bad, and then, when I looked back into it thanks to Anime America reminding me of it, veered into ‘what EVEN happened here?!’

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown beyond the ‘oh, Kikyo’s the worst! She’s a bitch! She’s in the way of my ship!’ mindset that a lot of younger anime fans have in regards to their first ships and characters that gum up the works. 

However, on the same token, I can talk about how... Not great the dynamic between the trio from Inuyasha was handled. Cue VivaReverie’s ‘X but Really Fast’ style!

Inuyasha- ‘I’m an angry half-breed demon who’s been tormented all his life for being a half-breed so I’m gonna steal this jewel so I can become a full-breed demon! 

Kikyo - I’m the priestess that guards said jewel in question and I can’t let you have it.

Inuyasha - Fuck! But! Also! You’re kind of attractive and I admire your strength so I’m kind of into you!

Kikyo - No.

Inuyasa - Yes!

Kikyo - No.

Inuyasha - Yes!

Kikyo - No.

Inuyasha - Yes!

Kikyo - ... Okay, fine, yes.

Inuyasha - Sweet! So we’re cool now, right? 

Kikyo - Yes. ... Well, actually, no. I saw a demon that looks like you trying to steal the jewel and who also mortally wounded me so I’m going to shoot you with an arrow and bind you to this tree. 

Inuyasha - Wait, I did what now -- Ow, arrow to the heart!

Kikyo - And now, since I’m dying, I will saddle my little sister with the responsibility of burning my body with the jewel inside of it so no one else can have it. 

Kaede - Wait, why can’t we just use the jewel to heal your wounds -- Aaaand you’re dead. Well, light the funeral pyre I guess. This can’t possibly bite us in the ass in the future.

Kagome - I’m a school girl in the modern-era who is the reincarnation of the priestess somehow -- oops, fell in a well! Oops, attacked by a demon! Oops, released the half-breed demon! Oops, shattered the jewel into a thousand pieces scattered across the land! Hope this doesn’t become the McGuffin quest of the entire anime!

Kaede - Finding the jewel shards will be your McGuffin quest for the entire anime. 

Kagome and Inuyasha - Fuck!

Kaede - Also, take this necklace that is basically a BDSM collar for Inuyasha to obey your orders. 

Kagome - Sweet!

Inuyasha - Fuck!

Kikyo - Hey, I’m resurrected somehow.

Kagome - Wait, if you’re resurrected, shouldn’t I have been erased from history -- Also, Inuyasha, where are you going?

Inuyasha - To be with the actual woman I love, even though she shot me and bound me to a tree for a thousand years, and her sudden appearance is all kinds of suspicious!

Kikyo - Hey, by the way, I’m totally evil now and I’m going to use my sort-of/kind-of reincarnation to shoot you with another arrow. 

Kagome and Inuyasha - Damn, if this was only completely avoidable. By, like, you know, being cautious around obviously suspicious reanimated corpses or something...

Disclaimer - I actually do like Inuyasha, I swear.

[rubyneo]

Neo, Mercury, Emerald, and Roman for the asks :>

screams bc tumblr fucking EATED this the first time

neo:

How I feel about this character - good, pls give some warm clothes

All the people I ship romantically with this character - ruby, em, mercury, weiss, and blake (but only in terms of ot3 with ruby)

My non-romantic OTP for this character - yall already know this is a froyo blog

My unpopular opinion about this character - neo is a genderfluid 16 year old who just misses her dad

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. - i so desperately want her to kick cinder's ass and run off to join rwby + co

mercury:

How I feel about this character - Kissies Him

All the people I ship romantically with this character - neo, ruby, team SSSN, ren, and jaune

My non-romantic OTP for this character - emerald

My unpopular opinion about this character - just bc he's not an uwu softboi abuse victim and just bc he lashes out and is angry and aggressive doesnt mean he's like. a bad victim? also i wish ppl would stop comparing his and emerald's abuse and acting like his father Constantly Beating Him and Literally Stealing Part Of His SOUL and then him being forced to kill his father bc otherwise marcus was probably gonna kill him is just "my daddy was mean to me boohoo :("

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. - kinda want him and em to go separate ways for a bit (like, he goes to team rwby while em goes to find cinder)

emerald:

How I feel about this character - i love her!!

All the people I ship romantically with this character - neo, ruby, blake, yang, weiss, ilia, velvet, coco, pyrrha, and nora

My non-romantic OTP for this character - mercury

My unpopular opinion about this character - she hasn't shown any remorse for what she's done under cinder's orders. she doesn't care that she killed tukson, she doesn't care that she was part of cinder mortally wounding amber or killing penny or pyrrha, she doesn't care that she was part of the fall of beacon, she enjoyed rwby + co's suffering during the battle for haven, and currently doesn't regret any of it. she's scared bc her (perceived) mother figure (abuser) is suddenly gone, which leaves her at the mercy of salem and her cabal, but she doesnt actually regret any of it.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. - please please please give her a new outfit and let her redeem herself to rwby and also maybe let her become the fall maiden and kill cinder

roman:

How I feel about this character - papa,,,,,

All the people I ship romantically with this character - qrow, james, and hazel

My non-romantic OTP for this character - nyeo

My unpopular opinion about this character - he's a himbo!!!!!!!!!!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. - wish we'd seen him n neo interacting more