#and the giant wins time and time again. you have broken my heart and i fear i have broken yours too

[ravensinyouryard]

missing my wife rn

[p1astr81]

stay done -cl16

in which: You just can’t walk away from Charles, no matter what he does.

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of potential cheating, google translated French, Charles is a complete dick, reader is stupid as hell, mentions of vomit, not proofread I fear, lmk if there’s any more!

based on “stay done” by tate mcrae

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The both of you sat on opposite ends of the sofa, and somehow the topic of Lewis joining the team next year came up. Stupidly, you commented, “yeah, it’s going to be incredible if you beat him.” Of course, it wasn’t a dig at your boyfriends abilities, but rather a recognition of the past achievements of the 7 time world champion.

Charles looked to you with furrowed brows. He assessed your expression before scoffing. He stood abruptly, moving with haste. “Charles, I didn’t mean it like that.” You chased after him down the hallway of his Monaco apartment. “I’m sorry,” you tried again after you received no response or acknowledgment from the man. “Fuck off.” He muttered, stepping into your shared bedroom and slamming the door in your face. You tried to twist the handle.

Locked.

“Babe, come on.” Your fist softly collided with the door once. “You’re an incredible driver, I just meant with his achievements and whatnot…” you trailed off, realizing your words weren’t making the situation much better.

Hate that I’m always gonna have a side to me / That’s still in awe when you’re mad at me / You can’t do it wrong in my eyes

“It was a stupid thing to say. I take it back, I’m sorry.” The only thing your apology granted was the sound of broken glass from somewhere inside the room. You took a shaky breath, and hesitantly tapped your knuckles against the wooden barrier. “Charlie? You okay?” You called out hesitantly.

The door was thrown open seconds later. Charles’s green eyes were a few shades darker as he glared down at you. His gaze pierced through you, and somehow caused the rise and fall of your chest to cease. “Fine.” He grumbled, stepping by you. He was sure bump your shoulder with such force it turned you a full ninety degrees. You watched as he plucked his keys from the counter. “Where are you-“ he shut the front door, abruptly cutting off the rest of your inquiry.

Your attention turned to the sound of shattered glass from earlier, and you took a cautious step into the room to investigate it’s source. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw the picture frame. On the floor. Upside-down. Surrounded in glass.

You were cautious of the scattered glass, stepping on your tip-toes to avoid it. You retrieved the frame by its stand. Once it was in your grasp, you stepped away from the glass. The picture was a favorite among the both of you. Taken by joris at the amusement park, after Charles just succeeded in winning you a giant plush. You had your arms stretched above your head, your lips spread into an open smile, probably cheering loudly at the time it was taken. The picture caught Charles as he was dipping down to grab you around your hips and hoist you into a close hug. He was a little blurry, but the love in his eyes was clear as day.

A tear ran down your face. You made no attempt to wipe it away. More followed as your feet carried you to the living room. You gently placed what was left of the frame on the coffee table, and sat on the sofa in front of it.

I hate it that you gotta break something / To realize we’re at rock bottom

Four days passed. You both agreed to forget the past incident, and he replaced the picture frame.

You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the both of you. You’d plated it up nicely, and placed the two dishes on the table at your respective spots. “Now, Leo, stay away from the table.” You redirected the cute little dog to the living room. He never jumped on the table to steal food, but he was a troublemaker in many other ways, which always had you worried.

You descended down the hallway to the room dedicated to his sim, and knocked on the door lightly before entering. “Foods done,” you inform him, your voice light with hope, but cautious. “Just bring it here.” He instructed, his eyes on the screen. You let out a small sigh as the bit of hope you held onto fizzled into nothingness. “Charlie, it’s been a week since you last came to eat with me.” You said, your voice small as you felt pathetic begging your boyfriend to just eat with you.

“What do you want from me?” He fired back, spinning around to face you. His eyes were narrowed, daring you to give a snappy reply back. “Just twenty minutes.” Your voice was hardly a whisper, broken as you bargained for an ounce of his attention. He sighed—though the sound was more of a huff—and gestured to the monitor stating, “I’m working. Isn’t that what you want? So you can leech off of my money some more?”

That one hit hard. While you owned the day care down the street, you didn’t make nearly as much as Charles did. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting back the pricking sting of tears. “I’ll be back with your plate.”

But kill me again cause the high’s twice as high / Wish this bullshit would end, but we’re back here again

Charles was away for another race, in Vegas this time around. “Baby, I saw this one dress and I thought you would like it so I took a picture,” he quipped over your FaceTime call, a text from him sending soon after. It was a really cute dress, but you could just make out the price tag. $5,000. “You know me well, cause that is a really cute dress.” You laughed. Charles smiled. “Ah, perfect. I’ll buy it tomorrow before the sessions.”

Your stomach twisted, your head reeling with his words from a couple of weeks ago, ‘So you can leech off of my money some more’. Since that night, you’d purchased everything yourself, turning down his offers or blocking him so he couldn’t swipe his own card. You turned down every transaction from his account. You had to adjust a little, as buying whatever you pleased was no longer an option with your new budget.

You shook your head quickly. “No, that’s alright I think I have plenty of dresses.” You turned down the offer as politely as you could without raising any red flags. Charles’s expression twisted, his brows pinching together and creasing the space between them. “What is it with you lately? You’ve been acting like my wallet has a disease.” You gave a forced laugh at his joke. “Nothing, just… independence is nice, I suppose.” You tried to reassure him with a smile. He gave you a skeptical look, piecing the puzzle together all on his own. “is this about what a said the other week?” You didn’t answer, your gaze drifting to a far-off place. “Come on, you know I didn’t mean that.” His voice was soft, an apology lying just beneath his words that never surfaced.

“No, yeah.” You agreed quietly, a small nod of your head confirming it double. “Charlie it’s getting pretty late here, I think I’m going to head to bed.”

“Oh, chérie. Why didn’t you say something earlier. It’s like—what is it,” he calculated the time difference in his head quickly, “two in the morning there.” He gave you a look of pity, or maybe it’s guilt. “I just miss you, is all.” You smiled softly. “Wish you were still here with me.”

Charles chuckled lowly. “I miss you, too. But I’ll see you next week in Brazil, yeah?” You nodded to confirm, though he already knew. “Can’t wait. Goodnight bébé.”

Yeah, I know we should break up / But I just can’t stay done with you / When I take off my makeup / Go to bed wanna wake up with you

You were meant to be flying into Brazil tomorrow, but a picture surfaced after Las Vegas that had you cancelling your flight.

You send a screenshot of the photo to Charles, demanding, “what is this?” he won in Vegas, and evidently celebrated in the infamous ‘sin city’. The picture taken during that night caught him red handed. A pretty blonde girl sat on his lap, hardly covered by her mini, skin tight, dress.

The guys were trying to be funny by calling a few of the escorts over. Nothing serious.

Honestly, a part of you wanted to laugh at his response. “Nothing serious”??? Was he kidding?? Her ass was pressed up against his dick and he thinks it’s “nothing serious”???

Fuck you and your excuses, Leclerc. Don’t expect me to be in Brazil tomorrow, ‘cause I’m not showing up.

We're best friends and enemies / We're good 'til you're dead to me, yeah / I told you goodbye like / Hundred million times

His messages came poring in quickly.

Ma chérie, please. Im sorry.

Don’t take this so harsh, it was only a bit of fun.

I didn’t do anything with her

I give you my life on that promise.

Please don’t leave us like this.

The sheer audacity of this man had you stumbling over your own thoughts, but somehow the ones that translated through the keyboard were,

I’m not ending us. I just need a bit of space right now.

I know I sound so dumb / But I just can't stay done with you / I just can't stay done with you

A few days went by, and you went out with your friends to momentarily forget about Charles. You drank. A lot. And alcohol—being a depressant and all—did it’s job exactly. Your plan to use the liquid to forget about him backfired, as the end of the night left you on the bathroom floor of your friend’s flat, crying as you scrolled through old photos of the two of you.

So when he called, you couldn’t resist picking up this time, even though you’d ignored all his calls previous.

“I miss you so much,” you started, choking on your own sobs. “Charles, please.”

You were entirely unsure of what you were pleading for. Another apology? For his presence? There wasn’t a true answer.

“Oh, Chérie,” he cooed. “I’ll pick you up, yeah? Are you at your friends?” He was gentle with his words and his tone of voice, as if any other tone would inflict physical pain upon you. This was the Charles you fell in love with. The caring, gentle, loving one.

After receiving confirmation that you were in fact at your friend’s residence, he raced over to pick you up and comforted you as soon as you set a foot in his car.

“I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.” And with his arms wrapped so tightly around you, whispering sweetly in your ear, how could you not think his apology was sincere?

So you gave in, accepting his apology after days of stubborn silence. “I know.” You sobbed into his shoulder. The never ending tears soaked through his thick hoodie, causing it to plaster to his skin.

Two hands cradling your face, he pulled you away from his shoulder gently. Your hands clung to the ends of your hoodie as he pushed the stray hairs from your face. “I love you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before he pulled away. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning back into your seat. He was sure to keep a hand in yours the whole way there.

I hate it that I'm tryna call you up / When you're the thing that I'm running from / The one-way street I can't get off, oh yeah

You walked into the small pizza place across the street from Charles’s apartment building. A friend of a friend was very adamant about meeting you for lunch today, and when she offered to pay, who were you to say no?

Giving her a short greeting, you sat in the booth across from her. The atmosphere was awkward, but you chalked it up to not knowing her all that well.

Until halfway through your meal, she reluctantly slid her phone across the table to you. A very short conversation lit up the screen.

hey

hi?

wyd?

nothing rn

wanna come over?

can’t, I’ve got plans later.

At first, you were confused as to why she would show you the interaction, but then your eyes scanned over the name.

Charles Leclerc

“I met him at a club not to long ago.” She explained. “I had no idea he had a girlfriend until I did some digging and when I found out it was you… I’m really sorry.”

As if a small sorry would do anything to fix the tremendous ache in your heart.

“Have you…” you swallowed your fear. “done anything before? Hooked up?”You feared the answer, praying to whoever would listen that she spoke out a no.

“No. But he was really flirty when we met.” You couldn’t meet her eyes. The pity in them making you want to scream like a mad woman. “Send me a screenshot of that?” You requested, your voice strained from the effort of holding back your tears.

She nodded. “‘Course.”

“Thanks for lunch.” You muttered quickly, grabbing your stuff and nearly sprinting out of the place.

Charles tried to greet you as you stepped into the flat, but you shoved past him and locked yourself in the bathroom.

The door handle jiggled, but the lock did it’s job. Charles tapped his knuckles against the wooden door. “Chérie?” The nickname had an anger bubbling inside you. “Are you alright in there?” With your newly acquired information, you wondered how he could sound so genuinely concerned.

“Uh, just feeling sick.” You answered shakily. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You were feeling extremely sick to your stomach. Something nasty swirled from within and it had you leaned up against the wall with your legs drawn to your chest.

“I’ll get you some water.”

The bathroom tiles reverberated from a buzz of your phone. When you opened the message to see the screenshot, the lunch you just ingested crawled back up your throat and forced itself out of your body. The contents dumped into the toilet bowl.

A foreign body pressed closely toward yours, holding your hair from your face and rubbing your back.

How the hell did he get in? You asked yourself, then remembered the key he kept on top of the doorframe.

It didn’t matter, cause the feeling of him so close to you had you spilling everything your body could offer into the bowl.

“Go away,” you manage to mumble.

“What?”

“Go away.” You repeated more clearly, attempting to push him away but given you were head first in the toilet, it was a little challenging.

Charles laugh is laced with concern. “Why would I do that? I know this isn’t-“

“Because I saw the texts.” You lift your head, pushing away from him and taking up your spot against the wall once more. You wiped your face with a piece of bath tissue while he looked to you with furrowed brows, shaking his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. What texts?”

You threw your phone at him, screen displaying the conversation. “Those texts.”

You watched as he read through the conversation. Guilt manipulated each of his facial features and weighed heavy on his body, forcing him to his bottom and his back up against the bathroom vanity for support. His position mirrored yours. Back straight and knees bent to meet your chest.

Sat across from you, his forehead fell to rest on his patellas. “I’m sorry, bébé.” He muttered.

You sniffled, whipping your nose with the back of your hand. “Coming from you, those words don’t mean much anymore.” You mumbled, playing with you hands in your lap.

He exhaled a sigh from deep in his chest. His eyes found your figure, a pained look painting his expression. “I know. I know.” He shook his head. Desperation filled him, a burning desire to reach out to you but he held himself back. “I have no excuse this time.” He carefully placed your phone on the tiled floor beside you.

You said nothing, your eyes still on your hands as you twisted your fingers between each other. Ideas of how to respond and repercussions swam around in your mind. You considered breaking it off with him and leaving for good. But at the end of the day this was your Charles and it was nothing more than a text. A text sent when you asked him for space. Perhaps he thought you were on a break.

So, you being you, you cut him some slack. “I think I’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom tonight.” Your voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

Charles felt a little lighter at your words. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t breaking up with him. Hell, you’d still be under the same roof, just a few meters from Charles. He smiled softly. “Okay.” He nodded.

I've been nothing less than cordial / But if we're really talking morals / Why'd you have to hit her up like that? / You should know it isn't normal

A generous amount of make-up remover soaked the cloth in your hand. Gentle swipes took off the top layer of your makeup, coating the light colored cloth in an ugly shade of brown. The cleansing balm took off whatever the makeup remover failed to, and you washed your face to be sure it was all off.

Charles had avoided the bathroom, but when you came out, he couldn’t resist giving you a small, “goodnight.” He received no response from you, but did not blame you for ignoring him.

You slipped into the guest bed, the mattress was hardly used and therefore not as broken in as yours and Charles’s.

You tossed and turned for an hour. Your brain couldn’t shut off. It constantly found a new thing to complain about every five minutes. The bed is too stiff, or it’s too cold in here, and then when you got another blanket, now it’s too hot.

But the most notable complaint, I miss Charles.

You whispered out a curse to the empty room, trying your hardest to push that thought far away from your brain. But it was persistent. It was the devil on your shoulder, telling you Charles could fix the ache in your heart—even if he was the cause of it.

You should be mad at him. You shouldn’t be the one longing for his presence beside you. You should be repulsed at the mere thought of him.

You couldn’t find it in you to stay mad at him. He was an irresistible force, constantly drawing you into him even when he wasn’t trying to.

And eventually, after an hour of trying to talk yourself out of it, it drew you right back to his side. As you slid into the sheets next to him, you tried your best to stay quiet and not to wake him. But when a warm hand was placed on your hip, you knew you’d failed to do so.

“I love you.” He tiredly spoke. You said nothing. Instead, you laced your fingers with his.

I just can’t stay done with you.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Wazzuh homie. Got another idea, what about a fic with AP (upgrade pred/assassin pred) with a male reader who lowkey just can’t feel pain and ends up constantly getting hurt because of it- cue a broken nose in a spar and not even noticing it.

Thought it might be fun to write and as always have a nice day and I shall repay you with more edits if you want:D

Take A Hit

Pairings: AP (Assassin Pred) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 2220

Summary: On a mothership, surrounded by other hunters, you spar against a young blood. His skill is evenly matched to yours. A spar to level yourself up on the charts. With CIPA, you can’t feel pain or temperature difference. You break an arm, you keep fighting. You get cut, you keep fighting. The Yautjas are amazed at your ability that allows you to push through. An ability some are even jealous of. But pain allows for them to toughen up.

Author Note: It feels like forever since I've written for AP. Man needs some love. Took me a moment to warm up to him but the sizeeeee.... delicious!

Masterlist

Ao3

There’s a tournament going on currently. Each group is carefully picked out for their skills and strength. All of them Yautjas. Then, here was you. A ooman amongst their ranks, wiggling your way through the ranks and heading towards the top. No one believed in. Besides Assassin.

No one messed with Assassin. Except you. Similar with their ranks, you’ve wormed your way passed his hard, nearly impenetrable exterior, and into his heart. That’s why he stands in the sideline, others giving the giant space. He silently cheers for you win, for you to come out on top despite everything else against you. A human.

Before the latest match starts, you are standing in front of Assassin. Both of his massive hands cup your shoulders and kept you pressed to the fronts of his thighs. Not that he didn’t trust your ability, he whole heartily did. He didn’t trust others. There was a large dispute about your presence on the mothership. He quickly shot every argument down… with his fists. No one stood in his way again after that display.

Your head tilts back to find his bright, yellow eyes on you. “It’s going to be a tough one, Assassin. They’ve got me against, Diqrt. He’s got a score of eight to two,” you spoke directly to him and ignored everyone around you.

A grunt left him. His gaze flickers over to your opponent on the other side of the mat, waiting for his turn. Assassin couldn’t wait for when you wiped the floor with his face. He doesn’t like count the wins before they happen, but he knows you will win. The opponent may not know it yet, by the way he keeps smirking as if he already won. But, soon, he’ll meet his loss.

Finally, he looked back down at your alien face and patted your shoulder. “You know what to do,” he rumbled. There was one special trick you had that gave you a massive advantage against your opponents each time.

The inability to feel pain.

Some Yautjas would kill for an ability such as that. Others have seen it as a curse. But you, you use it to take down your enemies.

You reached up and placed your hand over his. Yours barely covered the back of his hand. “Kick ass and take names. I know, I know,” you groaned and shook your head. With the match soon to start, you pulled your shirt off of your body and handed it to Assassin. Another lesson he taught you. Less clothing? Less to grab.

A bell rang. “It’s my turn now.” You swiftly double checked over your weapons before slipping out from underneath his hands. “May Paya guide my hand.” Assassin let you leave to enter the ring and dipped his head, silently returning the words to you. He crossed his arm, a stern expression falling over his features. No one dared to step an inch closer to the mutant. Or else they’ll met with Cetanu shortly enough.

Diqrt was a head taller than you but around the same age as you. His strength surpassed yours but your skills made up for it, including CIPA.

A referee entered the square mat as well. A well aged warrior who has seen her fair share of battles throughout her life. The scars that decorated her form spoke more words than she could tell you. You didn’t miss the way she sneered in your general direction. Instantly, you knew if Diqrt pulled any games or tricks, she wouldn’t call him out for it. A game you needed to play carefully.

It’s a sight you were used to. But, you built your path up this far by yourself. They had no reason to act as if you cheated. Assassin has helped along the way, but teaching you how to fight, to defend. Never to build your path for you. He’s the only one who truly believes you can complete these matches. Everyone else only sees you as a weak, meek human. You couldn’t wait to show them how wrong they were.

The referee points to the respected spots the two of you needed to be at. You stepped up to the plate. Your opponent doing the same thing. The two of you eyed each other up before placing a hand on each other’s shoulder and giving a firm shake. Respect. Then, you both took the two steps away and got into position.

Not everyone’s eyes would be on you. But, you knew a lot would be watching. The human that has defeated the odds. Why not give them a show?

“Go!” the ref showed suddenly. Your coiled muscles rolled forward and easily dodge a swipe of claws meant to mar your chest. Able to feel pain or not, bleeding out is still on the table.

A dagger was unsheathed from its holder that framed your chest. It spun gracefully in your grasp as the two of you danced around each other. But you weren’t one for a dance competition. You flicked the dagger in your hands. It soared through the air. Swiftly, you pulled out another one and dashed forward. The blade was knocked to the side, as planned.

The distraction working to plan. You were able to thrust the blade into a weak spot along his armor. Armor that slightly restricted his movement but allowed for protection along his belly. Until, a thin blade finds the perfect slit to pierce his hide.

You ripped the blade out and rolled away, barely missing the heel of his foot. A grin plastered its way onto your face. Diqrt snarled and lunged forward at you half knelt body. He catches you. His weight doubled of yours and crushed the air out of your lungs. A wheeze left your lungs. But, you are rolling with him and fought your way to the top.

Claws rake across your face. Blood sprouting to the spilt surface and dripping down your face. You’re forced to scramble away from him and glared at him through the blood dripping down your skin. It blurs your vision. His dark blue scales blending in with the dark room itself. You growled and tightened your grip on the handle.

The dark form was hard to see but you were able to narrowly dodge a fist heading for your head. The air above your head taking the hit. You shot out your leg and hit him directly in a weak point on his ankle. He snarled his pain and collapsed down on the opposite knee. You go for a punch to his face in hopes to knock him out but your fist is caught. The limb is forced down until it reaches an unnatural angle before the bone gives. You feel the bone snap at the joint. You grunt with annoyance, knowing you couldn’t use the limb anymore. The blade falls out of your limb hand and bounces off of the mat at your feet.

Now, you were forced to use your non dominant hand to defend yourself. You pulled out another blade and backed away when he got back to his feet. There was a smirk on his stupid face. “What? A ooman can’t handle the big dogs?” he snarked and marched towards you. You rolled your eyes and ducked when he attempted to snatch your neck.

You make a move to get behind him and kicked him in the back of his knee. He grunted and fell back down but rolled forward and spun around. Diqrt lunged forward, fist slamming straight into your face. Your head whipped back with the force.

It was impossible to breath out of your nose, forcing you to pant through your mouth. Your lips curled up in smirk. He thought all of this, these injuries would drag you down. Never. Blood ran down from my nose and dripped down onto the mat, joining the neon blood of Diqrt. You swiped out your tongue and tasted it yourself.

When he darted back into your space again, you leaned out of the way then drove your blade into his wrist. Payback is a bitch.

The Yautja howled, head reared back. If this was a fight to the death, this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to drive a blade into his neck too. But, it was a shame it wasn’t. Maybe when they open up to the deathmatches again. You would love to teach them how much of a danger you are. Little but mighty.

The blade twisted, ruining the tendons in his hand. Diqrt yanked himself away from you and cradle his destroyed wrist close to his chest. You stood in the same spot and gazed at the injured Yautja with a smirk. Despite the injuries that would’ve downed any normal person, you straightened your stance. Blood continued to drip down your face, forever staining the mat.

Diqrt bowed his head. “I yield,” he muttered under his breath. You pumped your uninjured hand in the air with a roar that echoed around you.

A female referee reentered the arena. Your name falls from her mandibles. “The winner of the fourth tournament,” she announces and uses an arm to point towards your smiling, proud form. Then, the match ended. You calmly walked over to your thrown blade to pick it up before strutting off the mat towards Assassin. The male was expressional but his eyes shined with pride.

When you got close enough, he place a hand on your chest, above your heart. “Wonderful match, little one,” he cooed. You beamed brightly then reseated your blade. In the safety of your quarters, you would clean each blade carefully. Each wound properly taken care of. For now, your limp wrist hung at your side. This break would need to be seen by a healer.

You stepped back enough to card your digits between his and hold onto his hand. “I couldn’t have done without you, Assassin. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me,” you spoke softly, words only meant for him. No one deserved these words besides the Yautja in front of you.

Assassin grunted then pulled at your arm. The giant parted the crowd as the two of you left. Normally, you would’ve stayed to watch the rest of the matches but they wounds needed to be cared for.

Through the halls of the ship he knew like the back of his hand, he took you a floor up. It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at the healers section. Many of them prepared for a night like this. It was usual a blood bath on tournament nights. Today was no different.

At the sight of Assassin, the two of you were ushered to the front of other waiting young bloods. You didn’t care if you had to wait, the pain… well it didn’t bother you at all. You smiled to yourself at the thought. The others, they were probably aching, anger at your treatment. You felt their gaze on you but your head was held high, holding the hand of a dangerous Yautja at your side.

Over the course of probably three minutes, they had set your wrist and used a cast to keep it in place. It wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. Their advance technology easily took care of it.

As for the cuts, Assassin insisted he could take care of those himself. Then, the two of you were back in the safety of your shared quarters. Before you had a chance to slip off the weapon harness around your chest, Assassin was unclipping the buckles. You raised a brow at his eagerness. Not that you weren’t thankful for his help. The brace that kept your hand steady made it a little difficult to move your fingers. Plus, if the man wants to help, why not?

His hands drifted down to the knot that kept your shorts around your waist. The grin on your face widened. “I don’t think I was injured down there, Assassin,” you teased but did nothing to stop him. The two of you have been toeing with each other for some time. You were waiting for a moment like this.

Assassin didn’t stop. One of his hands snatched your throat in a tight grasp and pulled you close to his face. The tips of toes barely touching the ground. “I know. I’m on a different mission. I’m done waiting,” he snarled. His voice giving away to the emotions swirling inside of him. You laughed and let him pull off the clothing from your hips. Now, you were only adorned in a pair of boxers.

“Finally,” you snorted and worked on his own belt. It was more complicated than your simple knot. But he tightened his hold, cutting off both air and blood to your head.

“No, I control. You listen.” You raised a brow at his action then shook your head in disbelief.

“What makes you think I’ll just submit to you willy-nilly?” you snarked and rolled your eyes. There’s more of a chance for him to snap your neck, but he wouldn’t.

Something flashed in his eyes. His free hand cupped your growing bulge in your boxers. A gasp tore from your throat at the sudden pleasure. “That’s why.” Fuck yourself. You were in it for the night.

[scribblue]

Like Father, Like Son [A Bitten!Lloyd Fic]

"He was trapped inside himself, forced to bear witness to the loss of his own identity."

Lloyd Garmadon's life, and the fate of Ninjago itself, is altered forever when he is bitten by the Great Devourer.

2,416 Words ☆ Angst, Canon Divergent AU, Lloyd Garmadon needs a hug ☆ Rated T, no major warnings

This is the first of several oneshots I have planned for this AU, detailing important milestones in Lloyd's post-bite life!! Read it below, or on AO3!

𓆩✧𓆪

In a single agonizing instant, Lloyd understood his father.

As the Great Devourer’s fangs pierced through his sleeve and infused its villainous venom into his veins, as he was shaken like a ragdoll and left to bleed on the desert floor, as the first wave of inner turmoil overtook him, he understood it all. Somewhere in his half-awake stupor and blackening heart he found it, a glimmer of empathy at the end of the tunnel. So, this was the reason for his father’s fall from grace. For his poor choices. For his lengthy absence. It was something Lloyd had long been aware of, at least as much as a young child could be, yet nothing could have prepared him for the reality of his experience. 

Pure, unfiltered hatred and vile thoughts clouded an already swirling mind. He felt his morals being corroded away as though he'd been injected with acid rather than venom, stripping him of all sense of self. It was a metamorphosis of the soul he was powerless to stop, and his body was the cocoon he couldn’t escape, forcing him to lay still in the sand no matter how hard he willed himself to move. He was trapped inside himself, forced to bear witness to the loss of his own identity. 

No. No, he had to fight. He had to. Lloyd couldn’t let the venom win. He was the green ninja. He had the choice to be good. He couldn’t let everyone down. He couldn’t let his father down. He had to do better.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear the cries of his friends, the crack of wood as the Great Devourer went back for seconds. The bounty would surely not survive another attack by the giant snake. Lloyd hoped…he hoped…

It was like grasping for a fleeting memory. He wasn’t sure what he hoped for, if anything; it felt so far away. His body was burning hot and wracked with chills at the same time. His vision blurred and darkened at the edges. Was the wetness on his face sweat or tears? 

Someone called out to him. He couldn’t tell who it was over rushing blood in his ears and the violent storm that raged inside him. When he tried to respond, all that came out was a mangled groan. A hand took him by the shoulder and gave him a shake, which he barely registered; in his loss of blood, consciousness, and identity, this body no longer felt like his own. And it put up no fight as his consciousness was finally claimed.

𓆩✧𓆪

You’re a monster now. 

“How is he doing?” 

Despite a soft tone, the broken silence was enough to startle Wu from his trance. He whipped his head up to face Nya, who had entered the room as quietly as she’d spoken and now met his gaze with a worried expression. Wu wordlessly beckoned her closer and she complied, joining him by Lloyd’s bedside. The young boy was swathed under heavy blankets to sweat out a fever, though an elevated temperature was the least of his problems. He tossed and turned fitfully with eyes squeezed tightly shut, muttering gibberish.

“He is as stable as possible,” Wu said. “I wish we could offer more comfort but…I’m afraid we’ve done all we can do.”

Your friends will never trust you again. Your father will be so disappointed. 

“No, no…” Lloyd whined under his breath.

“You can’t wake him up?” Nya said, worrying the hem of her top with anxious fingers. “It’s been a whole day now.”

Wu let out a resigned sigh. “Lloyd is fighting against the venom as my brother did many, many years ago… this is just the beginning of a lifelong battle. If we do not allow him to emerge victorious from today’s struggle, he may never have the strength to fight it at all.” The words were true, despite Wu’s desperate wishes for the contrary. Seeing Lloyd in such a condition brought a wave of traumatic memories to the surface, and threw salt in wounds that never had a chance to properly heal. Wu couldn’t help but blame himself for Lloyd’s condition, as he had for Garmadon’s. If only he had been there.

You cannot fight the darkness in your soul. You must surrender to it. This is who you were always meant to be. 

Nya pulled up a stool next to Wu and settled into it, keeping her gaze trained on Lloyd. “There has to be something we can do.”

“I wish it as much as you do. But I— we were too late.” Wu cleared his throat to banish a slight tremble. “The venom cannot be removed now. He must learn to coexist with it.”

The world will pay for letting you down, and you will be the means for their demise. Pave the path for your future with their early graves. 

Lloyd yelped and began to toss more violently, tangling the blankets with his thrashing limbs. Wu rose to his feet and stepped forward to gently tug the coverings free of his flailing body, then fetched a washcloth from a dish of cold water at his bedside. He wrung out the excess and placed the cool material across Lloyd’s forehead. The relief was immediately apparent. The boy ceased his thrashing and settled into a state of relative calm, and Wu let out a sigh of his own moderate relief, settling back in his seat.

“What does it mean for the prophecy? Is he still the Green Ninja?” Nya asked with marked hesitancy.

That same question had weighed heavily on Wu’s mind in the past hours, and unfortunately, no amount of meditating brought him closer to an answer. “That will be revealed in time. I’m afraid the fate of Ninjago is uncertain, even to me… that said, one thing is clear: we must focus our efforts on Lloyd’s training tenfold. He will need extra guidance to not only hone his elemental powers, but to hone the darkness inside. We must help him find the light.”

Fighting back merely delays the inevitable. Give in. Give up. Accept your fate.

“No!” Lloyd yelled. He lurched upright with swinging arms, an outburst that elicited a jolt from the pair sitting beside him. He maintained the offensive stance for a moment, panting and surveying his surroundings with wide, fearful eyes. 

"Easy, Lloyd," Wu said gently. "You're safe now."

"Yeah, it's alright Lloyd– it's just us," Nya chimed in with a small, somewhat unconvincing smile.

Lloyd looked over at them, expression softening and fists lowering as recognition kicked in. “What…what happened? Where am I?”

Wu rose from his seat and approached Lloyd with a tentative gait. He studied him closely, as though a thorough enough examination would reveal the depths of the venom's effect. “You are in Ninjago City. Tell me, how do you feel? What do you remember?”

“I feel… awful.” He peeled the towel off of his forehead and Nya reached forward to take it from him, dipping it back in the water dish. “I had a horrible nightmare where I was bit by…the…” His eyes widened in a state of sickening realization, which he aimed at his bitten arm; bandaged tightly below the elbow and surely still sore. Faded patches of blood and venom stained the inner layers of cloth. “…I was bit by the Great Devourer.”

So, he was aware. At least that was one less bandaid for Wu to rip off, for lack of a less ironic metaphor. “Yes, I’m afraid your nightmare is reality,” he said. “I’m sorry, Lloyd. The Great Devourer’s venom now courses through your veins as well.”

Nya offered Lloyd the compress, which he stared at blankly before rejecting with a slight shake of his head. She set it aside. “I’m sorry too. We all are. I can’t even imagine how hard it is for you right now. Don't worry though, okay? We’re gonna get through this together. All of us.”

Lloyd averted his gaze to some far off corner of the second-rate apartment building they were holed up in, though his vacant stare was clearly not one of judgment for their living situation. There was anguish behind those eyes, anguish that Wu was most familiar with. That he dreaded the sight of. “Where’s my father?”

Wu and Nya shared a knowing glance, and Nya took it as her queue to exit. “I, uh…think I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said, sparing Lloyd another sympathetic smile and slipping out of the room. 

With Nya gone, Lloyd’s full attention snapped to Wu. “Where is my father?” he repeated with increased insistence.

Wu stroked his beard as he gathered the words to explain. His conflicting feelings about his brother's conflicting actions made it a particularly difficult task, especially with Lloyd’s intense scrutiny. Not that delaying the news made it any more bearable. “...When your father heard of the bite, and your compromised condition, he took the golden weapons and used them to defeat the Great Devourer in your name. His act of bravery saved us all. However... once the dust had settled, he was nowhere to be found. Along with the golden weapons.”

Lloyd’s face fell. In the silent room, one could hear his heart shatter from within. "He...left?” 

Wu didn’t respond. The answer was already evident and hung heavily in the air between them. Garmadon’s decision was not one Wu agreed with, but he wagered that speaking ill of him would not offer any solace; instead, he reached up under his hat and procured a scrap of paper curled into a roll. “I found this at the scene of the Great Devourer's demise. I think you need to read it.” 

Lloyd accepted the paper gingerly and unfurled it with equal caution. His eyes flitted across the messily scrawled ink. 

To my brother,

Take care of Lloyd for me. He will need someone to guide him through this, and, despite our quarrels, I can think of no one better suited than you. My own venom has run too deep, and I fear my presence would influence him in the wrong direction. I cannot allow that to happen. Please continue his teachings in my absence.

To my son,

I love you. I hope you will understand my decision one day, and possibly even forgive me, though it is certainly not owed. I am so sorry, Lloyd. I never wanted this for you. I know how terrifying and isolating it all is. No matter what happens, never lose sight of who you are at your core: a strong, adventurous young man with a heart of gold. Do not let the venom take that away from you. 

You must maintain balance within yourself, rely on your companion's wisdom when yours fails, and keep moving forward even when the road gets difficult. One way or another, I will be there by the end of it. And I will be so proud of you.

It's not your fault, Lloyd. 

Your father always,

Garmadon

Wu had reread the message enough times to nearly memorize it himself, so when Lloyd’s eyes began to well up with tears, it came as no surprise. He was taken aback, however, by the sudden shout of frustration as Lloyd balled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!!” he cried, green eyes blazing red like a forest overtaken by flame. “How could he do this to me? How could he leave me again when he knows how much I need him? Doesn't he know how much I need him?!” 

Wu stumbled backwards and instinctively reached for his staff, realizing the mistake too late as Lloyd’s furious expression landed on him and twisted in betrayal. The fire behind his eyes extinguished, leaving a wounded child in its embers. “...You think I’m a monster like him.” His once furious tone was now trembling and dejected.

The staff fell to the floor with a hollow clatter. “Lloyd, no, it’s not like that. I was simply startled. Neither of you are monsters, this venom, it— it isn’t you. I would never– er, I know you would never...” Wu heaved a sigh. His tangled tongue was doing him no service. "I'm sorry, nephew."

Lloyd held his gaze for a beat before dropping his attention to his wounded arm, curling and uncurling his fingers wordlessly. He didn’t appear convinced, and Wu didn't blame him. Further placations surely couldn't ease such a troubled mind, so the pair remained in uneasy silence, accompanied only by a ticking clock on the wall and blooming dread inside Wu’s chest. He willed himself to fight it, just as Lloyd was fighting his own darkness. Strength was a skill he must model.

Wu turned to survey the room, eyes landing on the crumpled page. He plucked it from the floor and began carefully smoothing it out to the best of his ability. The words were still legible, if a bit creased and stained with teardrops. For this, Wu was grateful. They were important words, ones Wu hoped would one day soothe Lloyd's heart rather than break it. He rolled it back into a makeshift scroll and set it on Lloyd’s nightstand. 

“I’ll still have to fight him…won’t I?”

It was nearly whispered, as though the reality behind the statement was too heavy to bear fully. Wu considered Lloyd thoughtfully, taking note of his puffy, tear-stained face with a frown. “Hm…perhaps,” he admitted. “Although, that is a battle for another day, and one we have ample time to prepare you for. Tonight, allow yourself to rest, Lloyd. Your body and mind are still healing and need time to recover."

Lloyd sniffed and wiped his face into his sleeve. "Okay," he said, and Wu had never heard him sound so defeated. He eased back into bed and closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

Wu lingered in the doorway for just a moment longer before turning off the light and slipping out to update the others on Lloyd’s condition. He wished he bore more hopeful news. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, to himself or the ninja, their situation had become far more dire. At this time, he could only pray external guidance would be enough to tip the scales of balance back to a steady equilibrium, lest all of Ninjago pay for Wu’s neglect.

Lest the vicious cycle continue.

[maeedrg]

Satoru, Oh Satoru

Y/n’s goodbye letter

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which you write and send a letter to your ex fiance, Gojo Satoru, before his deathly battle with Sukuna. Broken promise, he wishes to see you again, the love of his life, one last time before it’s too late. [The letter is the Mary’s goodbye letter to Arthur Morgan from RDR2]

Words count : 2k

Warnings : heavy angst, slight comfort, major character death, spoilers of the end of the manga, reader is called « wife » once.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I love Red Dead Redemption 2, and the letter of Mary is haunting me. It’s been weeks since I wanted to write about it, so here we go, with Gojo instead of Arthur Morgan ! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

“My dear Satoru,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Satoru, oh, Satoru. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for leaving you. There's a vulnerable man within you, Satoru, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant, wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free. So please, win, and come out alive.

Goodbye.

y/n”

Are those water drops ?

Satoru blinks once, twice, before realizing that tears roll down his rosy cheeks and wet down the paper. He slowly opens his mouth in a shuddering breath, knuckles tightening against the letter he was holding in his hands. He is crying, Gojo Satoru is crying. Heavens know that this man almost never cried since the day he was born. But the way his heart was hurting so much, each breath being a stabbing inhale, as if a dag was slicing open his lungs and cutting into pieces his poor sweet damaged heart, confirm it. Yes, he cries. He cries this forgotten moment, he cries you, he cries your love, lost in the nostalgia he feels.

The Strongest, no, Satoru, never thought he would lose the love of his life twice. The first time was when you left him years ago, three more exactly, and God it was his own damn fault. He knows it more than anyone else, more than you.

The second was today, when he opened this letter you sent him and read it 5, 6, 12, 23 times. Hell, at first he thought he was hallucinating when he received it this morning. Why ? Why today ? The day he was supposed to have no single regrets, because he knew it would be the last time he would be on earth. He prayed that you forgot about him, hated him, cursed him in your soul forever, so he could die without your and any regrets.

23rd of December. Tomorrow, it will be the 24th. Please, please, please. He doesn’t want to die now. Will he really win ? That was just a sentence said to reassure himself, to convince his students and his own heart that everything will be alright. But the “what if” came along, and he ended up writing letters to his students in case he would indeed lose tomorrow. Including you. His long lost love. His ex fiance.

But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t expect you to send him one before he could even finish writing yours.

That hurts, so damn much. Was he even breathing anymore ? He didn’t know. But he had to breathe, everyone wanted him to breathe and to stand up. They needed him. Everyone needed him. But all he wanted, in the end, was for you to need him. Even if he told you the contrary years ago. That was all a lie, to you and himself. Satoru made you leave him, but that was for your sake.

Marrying The Strongest meant having a deadly bounty on your head, the end of your peaceful love, and maybe the end of your own life. He never really regretted what he did, he preferred for you to be safe and sound, away from him. Even if he missed your pretty eyes, your oh so sweet lips, the warmth of your soul and the comfort of your arms.

But now, some hours before his last day on earth, he regretted it more than anything. In the end, he would have wanted to spend his last years in your company if it meant having this kind of death. God, he could have called you his wife. He wasn’t dumb, Satoru was far too smart for his own good. Tomorrow will be his last. There was no need to be delusional about it, but it hurts. It hurts so much. More than he wanted it to be. The Strongest never gets hurt, after all. Because he doesn’t allow it to happen.

He kisses the ring, the engagement ring, he gave you years ago before you returned it to him in this letter. He slowly closes his watery eyes, biting the inside of his mouth, lost in thoughts. He wanted to feel your lips against his one last time. He wanted to be in your arms one last time. He wanted to hear your name coming out of your mouth one last time. He just wanted to see you, before his battle against Sukuna. Was he egoistical to want that, after everything that happened in between the two of you, after the letter you sent ?

“I just… don’t care anymore,” he muttered, standing back up and softly sliding your letter against his still beating heart.

Seeing you was his last wish. May it be granted.

Some minutes after, barely 20, he was in front of your door. It was an unholy hour to grant you a visit, the clock ticking 11.58 PM. In two minutes it would be his official last hours on earth, Christmas Day. If Santa Claus was real, then you were the biggest gift he could ask for.

The moment you open your door, sleepy eyes, greasy pajamas, and then face distorting in utter disbelief when staring at your ex fiance standing right in front of you, time stops. Satoru couldn’t believe his own eyes. His Six eyes were useless, his soul was already screaming to him that the person in front of him was the love of his life.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, unable to know if you were dreaming, or not. He died a little when he finally heard his name slipping out of your lips after so many years.

You can’t even utter another word, that his large frame is on you. His strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you in the depth of his chest and undying love for you. He inhales, you smell the same as he remembers. Oh, sweet Lord, how he missed this. He felt his heart beating again, his lungs working finally normally, he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing. Thanks to you. He never felt more alive in this moment. What a duality. A cruel duality.

“I did read your letter. Let me say my goodbyes to you too, y/n. One last time, I beg you,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Gojo Satoru never begs. Yet, here he was, ready to go on his knees like he did when he proposed to you, to implore one last blessing moment in your presence.

Your feelings were conflicted, you were in the arms of the man that broke your heart, and from whom you just made your goodbyes. Maybe that was mean of you, to send this letter the day before his battle against Sukuna. When you saw it on the news, you understood that it would be maybe your last time being able to reach to him. You told him what you needed to say. For you, that was final. But one thing that you didn’t take accountability for, was his soul wrenching love for you. And, in this small moment of peace before war, you decided to indulge in his vulnerability, no, yours. Wait, both of you were more vulnerable than you could ever be again.

“Satoru.”

“I missed you,” he whispers as he slowly lift his head, blue glossy eyes meeting yours intimately. Tears, rolling down. You couldn't fathom it.

“I’m so, so, oh so sorry. Do you forgive me for breaking your heart ?” His voice is like a whimper, and you feel a part of your soul breaking at his pleading. Your lips quiver.

“Yes, Satoru. And do you forgive me too for breaking yours ?”

“I never resented you,” he closes his eyes saying that, leaning his forehead against yours. That was unspoken, but you understood the depth of his words. After all, you knew him better than anyone else. He made you leave him, on purpose, and you were aware why he did that. You indeed left, he watched you doing it, unable to stop this tragedy from happening, because you both knew that marrying each other would have been probably the biggest dream and nightmare of your life. You both broke each other's hearts that day.

“I never did too,” you answer, closing your eyes.

“I love you, you know that, right ? Always did."

“I love you, Satoru. I know that you do. And…” you both open back your eyes at the same time, “I realize that loving you was my greatest curse, but your eyes grant me mercy. In them I see the salvation of my soul, but I know that your heart has already cursed me,” you finish in a breath coming from the depth of your being.

Two tears roll down at your answer. One from your eye, one from his. He sniffs, unable to suppress his emotions, and then slowly take out of his pocket two objects. First, a letter, bigger than the one you wrote him. It was unfinished, he didn’t have the time to. He softly puts it in the crook of your hand.

“Read it if I’m gone, if I’m not, then give it back to me in person," he asks you, his pearly white lashes getting wet from the tears in his eyes. You both knew deep in your hearts that you would never be able to give it back to him. Yet, you force a smile on your face.

“I promise.”

The second object, was your engagement ring. Satoru knew it was oh so egoistical of him to give it back, when you send it attached to the letter this morning. He refused to keep it. He still had his on his finger, he wanted you to keep it too.

You said in your letter that you refused to keep it anymore because you cared for it far too much and it reminded you too much of him. Satoru wanted you to remember him. He was sure that when he will die, people would forget about him, and move on. He came to accept that fact. People only cared about the farthest and the greatest grand Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Once death would take this title from him, he would have nothing left, aside from you.

“Only you can carry my love. Never forget that. You said that you hope by returning it to me you can finally be free. For my christmas gift, let me take your freedom,” he pleads, no, begs. His hand was shaking as he gently slid back the ring on your finger, it was his ultimate wish.

A sob escapes your lips. You cursed him for doing that to you. But how could you be mad, when granting the death wish of your long lost fiance ? You look back at the shiny ring, and remember how you blessed Heavens the day he proposed to you. It hurts to know that you never had the chance to call him your husband. Your love was doomed from the beginning. The world was cruel, so cruel.

“I’ll feel alive as long as I’m in your heart, may you never forget me,” he finishes, tangling his fingers in yours.

His left hand cradles your cheek, and you slowly lean towards him. His lips melt against yours, in this final goodbye, last kiss, last shared moment, heart to heart beating in sync. Your souls intertwined, and Satoru wished he could just die right now in your arms, in the sweetness of your lips and warmth of your love.

“In another life, Satoru. In another life we’ll marry and love each other how we wanted to, just not in this one,” you whisper like a secret to the world against his lips. He smiles through the tears.

“I’ll gladly die with a smile, now.” At least he could die the same day as Geto Suguru, one year after him, joining him in death. At least he could die knowing you loved him no matter what. At least he could die knowing that in his next life he could be by your side, again.

You never forgot him. You kept the ring on your finger, until your last breath and till death do you part. It did.

THE END

[arthursfuckinghat]

When people like to call Mary a manipulator and blame her for using Arthur but Mary Linton literally wrote,

"I miss you, and I will always miss you, but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way. When I'm with you, the world makes sense; but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I'm so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. There's a good man within you, Arthur, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant.. wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day.. you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free."

Not knowing that the next time she'd see Arthur again, would be at his grave.

[lady-griffin]

Possible Idea for the Firelights in S2

Which I’ve fallen way too much in love with, btw

After the Firelight Base is attacked, where do they go?

Do they just go back to their broken, destroyed home? Try to fix it up? Can they even go back?

Do they disperse?

Or do they go to a location most people (especially those from topside) would have difficulty navigating if they didn’t know exactly where to go?

Like an abandoned mine of sorts? One with really large, giant machines suspended in the air that could be used as little community hubs, perfectly accessible for those with hoverboards?

It’s just something to consider.

Seriously, I can’t express how much I love the idea of Jinx’s lair becoming the new base for the Firelights. I love it way too much; I’m going to be crushed when it doesn't happen (which to be fair is totally on me).

The old mines would be perfect for the Firelights, especially in helping them recover and giving them a sense of extra protection and security after what they’ve gone through.

Maybe it’s not permanent, but it doesn't have to be, it allows them to stay together, so it’s home for the moment

Destroying their base, likely making them scared to return, is an ingenious way to physically separate a group of people who are loyal to one another and fight well together, but this way they wouldn’t have to disperse.

It seems like the mines are well-hidden and isolated, with a lot of natural defenses – it’s been abandoned for a long time, there’s probably a complicated tunnel system to the cavern, and it has multiple physical locations (the drill/fans we’ve seen) that others (their enemies) can’t easily get to.

There are probably a few like Jinx’s lab, where they connect to the tunnels that lead outside, but the few we’ve seen in the background, seem pretty inaccessible – unless you’re a group of people who can fly.

There’s also the idea of Piltover and Noxus winning the day and those who’ve been pushed to live underground having to retreat further down to be safe.

But it’s not a defeat, it’s just a retreat. They’re still here.

I also really love the idea of how this place once represented darkness and the abyss, basically daring you to look down, especially when compared to Ekko's original base for the Firelights, representing light and hope, encouraging you to look up.

It’s still the same place it was in S1, but it's changed with all these other people sharing it with Jinx.

Not because she was forced to, but because she chose to open her space to others, one that was solely hers and we only saw her and Silco there.

But now it's filled with others, who've impacted and changed it with their own touches of color and graffiti and when we look, we see there are all these little pockets of light and color in the dark abyss.

There's still darkness, but it's no longer all consuming.

And I don't know, the idea just warms my heart so much, and I really, really want to see it.

Also, I can’t fully tell, but when Ekko is pulling the chain in the trailer, the area is dark and it could be a cave. So, maybe? Again, it’s hard to tell.

Seriously though, I love this idea so goddamn much!

[squilfmybeloved]

if no tiktok who will crash out with me over that mf letter? hm? who will jump me with an edit on my fyp of "my dear arthur,

you never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers, i understand why. i don't imagine you will recieve this letter but i nonetheless must send it. arthur. oh, arthur. i was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. i miss you, and i will always miss you, but i cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

when i'm with you, the world makes sense, but when we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. i'm so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. there's a good man within you, arthur, but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant wins, time and time again. you've broken my heart, again, and i fear i have broken yours.

for that, i will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. i enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because i don't like it, but because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. i hope, one day, you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and i hope by returning it to you i can finally be free.

goodbye,

mary"

[nytb]

From The Sidelines

Click Here first <3

Betrayal - in Y/N's eyes, it was the perfect way to get back at the woman she once loved. Alexia Putellas was no longer that person, instead; when Y/N laid eyes on the midfielder she only felt the excruciating pain of her old wounds ripping open again, bringing all the painful memories of that day to the surface.

Crashing out of the Champions League - Eintracht Frankfurt was torn to pieces by an on form Chelsea. Facing such a team when Y/N lacked creativity, focus and love for the game was detrimental for the Germans.

A game where they couldn't string more than three passes together, where their opponent could read them like a book, a team without passion, without ideas.

On the other side of Europe, things didn't look that different. Whatever had happened behind closed doors had affected the Fc Barcelona locker-room. For the first time in a while, the Spanish giants looked defeated, but the results didn't reflect that; they were completely contradictory to how the team looked. Thrashing teams in the league, dominating in European competitions, ruthless while on International breaks.

Whatever was wrong, it was clear that it happened strictly in the locker room; it was internal.

The Barcelona captain had quickly realized who was keeping their star defender occupied - the marks on Mapi's back - the obvious imprints where Y/N's nails had sunk into the defenders back, hickeys decorating her skin. It was Y/N's work and Alexia knew it.

Privately, the midfielder tried to make amends, she tried to win Y/N's love back. From the other end, she received false hope. The Frankfurt star was dangling her love in front of Putella's eyes, making it seem like she had a chance, the possibility of a do-over.

The Catalonian's rage was finally broken free at Y/N's latest masterpiece - scratches from the top of the defender's back, running through her tattoos, down to her hips. After all her groveling, Y/N's response was sending Alexia her best friend back, marked with scars that she once wore proudly.

"How could you?" Putellas hadn't even waited for everybody to scram out of the dressing room. Sitting by her locker, Mapi knew of the storm that was approaching; after all, she had accepted to back down. The defender was supposed to have stopped whatever her situation-ship with Y/N was.

But who would turn that Catalonian goddess down? A crazy person and Mapi? she could be a lot of things, but crazy wasn't one of them.

"You were my best friend - hell, I even forgave you after you broke my sister's heart" Alexia's rage was undeniable. The locker room? Quiet, silent even. Nobody dared to stop their captain's wrath.

"Get over it" the defender stood up for herself "Trying to win Y/N over with mere flowers - after you cheated?" Mapi was now mocking her captain, the whole dressing room shocked - in their minds, their captain had waved the white flag, given up, surrendered.

In her little corner, Patri felt guilty. She knew all along - she had the power to stop Y/N's heartbreak - but she was too late. Patri had failed her sister. A person that had thrown herself head first to the wolves to save them. Spanish football owed Y/N and they knew it.

Weeks of sly remarks, rumors and Y/N sightings in Barcelona. The Frankfurt star kept her routine trips to the land of the sun; her beloved Barcelona. Every time, besides a blonde defender. Cute little picnic dates, impromptu lunches all over town, late night strolls with the ocean's breeze.

Regardless of how it seemed, Mapi wasn't stupid. She knew that her cute little 'love story' with Y/N was only a way for the Catalonian to get back at Alexia. Regardless, she relinquished Y/N's presence, the Spaniard sank her fangs in the Frankfurt star. In a way, she tried to persuade Y/N into something more serious, real. Leon had fallen for Y/N, who could blame her? Other than Alexia of course.

Y/N had her way to keep people's eyes on her. Their undivided attention. She was that person in a club, the one that would dance with everybody, the one that built tension between herself and her prey - what never came? Release.

An innocent hickey here, a persuading bite there; Y/N was more of a tease than anything. Her body was never satisfied with just one prey on the dance floor, she always wanted more - she needed everyone to desire her - and every time, she managed it. But, at the end of the night, none of them would walk away with Y/N's hand. Only the person she truly loved was able to do that.

Putellas had lost a goddess - the woman everybody dreamed of. Loyal to a fault, the one everybody desired and only one person could have.

Mapi wasn't oblivious of that, for a time, she doubted Y/N's abilities. That was until the defender brought the possibility of a relationship up. Y/N made it an automatic response to that topic: sex. Even Leon could no longer doubt the effectiveness of Y/N's compulsion - it worked every single time.

For the rest of the season, Alexia kept to herself. She finally gave up on Y/N, not really, but at least now; she no longer graveled to get Y/N's attention. Setting their differences aside, the locker room did the same thing.

Swallowing their regret, pride and victories; they were now in the most crucial part of their season and the team couldn't afford to drop their focus.

Barcelona's form soon returned. Chemistry that was only seen when they had lifted their first European Trophy and now, they were looking for their second in Eindhoven.

"We are here to win it" the captain declared "I get that there is a lot of personal drama going around, but I hope that we can keep it in a box, leave it all here, as we have done it before" She knew that in some ways the team blamed her for Y/N's heartbreak, but at least they still had a chance to get Y/N back. That dream hadn't died yet.

After all, Eindhoven was a magical place, a place where the famous 'teoría del 2' was fulfilled. A place where dreams could come true. Fc Barcelona came out victorious, facing a worthy opponent; Wolfsburg.

It was poetic for Spanish Football, a way to avenge Y/N's sacrifice, beating the Germans.

Lifting their second European Trophy, Y/N celebrated alongside the reigning champions. Singing, dancing to the culé's chants, Y/N wore their shirt with Maria Leon's name spread across the back.

Now, culés all over the world expected - desired - their star's return.

[elaineiswithyou-blog]

I has angst (read dead redemption two spoilers)

The letter Simon is sent after being declared legally dead and becoming ghost from the reader

My dear Simon,

You never showed up. And now, after reading the papers with your obituary, I understand why. I don't imagine you'll receive this letter but I, nevertheless, must send it.

Simon... Oh Simon. I was just beginning to have the silliest and softest of dreams.

I miss you and I will always miss you but I can not live like that and it seems you can not live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart I see clearly that your world is not a world in from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything long ago.

There's a good man within you Simon but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant wins, time and time again. You've broken my heart again and I fear I have broken yours. For that I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now.

I enclose the ring you gave to me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I do not like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.

I hope one day you will find some people in love who can use it, for it kept me thinking of you all these years. I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free

Goodbye, reader.

And Simon never stopped wearing that ring

[reallyromealone]

For your summer event can we ask for a number if it's already been asked? Because I was wondering if you would write 22 again. My idea was maybe Toman finds a merman? Or maybe they win him at an auction or something. Love your writing BTW!

22: mermaids

Event

Masterlist

You absolutely can request the same prompt!

And thank you very much, that's very kind of you

(Name) woke up terrified, in a large glass case surrounded by blurry figures and shouting could vaguely be heard.

He barely remembered what happened, he remembered calling asleep in his cave and then he was here.

(Name) looked terrified as he began moving, the water swishing.

All he wanted was to go home...

Toman was curious as they brought home a mermaid, a giant tank already ready, practically having a whole ball room set up for the beautiful creature and he was beautiful to say the least.

"Careful dumping him" Draken barked as the Merman was transferred from tanks, the poor thing looked absolutely terrified as he immediately hid from view once in the new surroundings, surprisingly there was real plant life and even safe corals in the large environment but (name) wasn't risking anything. He wasn't some show for humans.

"He's shy" mikey said with a soft smile and watched the Merman glare at them before going into the shadows.

(Name) did eventually come out, in the dead of night as he hunted for food, Bonten getting the highest quality (saltwater/freshwater) fish for him to find. The Merman didn't notice a few eyes on him, the men sneakily behind things to watch him gracefully swim through the water and hunt, his movements precise and fast.

He was a true ocean predator.

"Some mers can reach up to 30 feet in length..." Baji said softly as he looked at the iridescent scales of his tail and parts of his body shimmering under the dimmed lights, mimicking moonlight.

"There's also different breeds of mer, if I'm correct he's (saltwater/freshwater fish breed), his scale pattern is fairly unique though" Chifuyu said in awe, wanting to get closer but not scare the beautiful creature.

Mikey was the unsurprising first person to walk forward and watch, the mer noticing fast and immediately hiding behind rocks, the men having caves built for him.

Mikey was snacking as he watched, his long black hair in a bun as he looked at the fish curiously and ate his Taiyaki, watching as the mer never took his eyes off him.

This became daily, one of them would watch and try and interact with him and earn some trust, Mitsuya sharing sushi he got with the mer who shyly took it before going back into the depths.

"Here" Draken offered the mer, he managed to get the others jewelry back, pearls and shells that were quite beautiful to say the least.

"Thhhank yuhu" (name) said in very broken Japanese, his mer accent very heavy as he slurred the words and gently took his jewelery and put all but one necklace one "oh? Not feeling that one?" Draken joked and (name) looked a little confused before pointing to his necklace "hooooman" and Draken looked confused before Sanzu spoke up "that's an enchanted necklace, makes him human when wearing it"

"Really?" Draken said in awe as (name)s head was only visible to his nose, the mers sharp eyes watching them curiously "mers only really become human for mating purposes or to hunt really though some merfolk have been going to land more often" this time Mitsuya spoke up and Draken looked in awe.

More and more (name) socialized with them, he didn't have a pod and slowly began seeing them as his pod with legs, learning more human words and teaching them Mer and trying Taiyaki after being curious at its fish shape and Mikey looked at him with with heart eyes, Toman growing deeply attached to the other.

(Name) huffed, wanting to see his pod but they weren't there and looked at his necklace and made a chirping sound.

(Name) clung to the walls as his legs shook like a baby deer, wet footsteps behind him as he walked naked to look for his pod.

Chifuyu and Pah were going to bring (name) new fish to hunt when they saw no (name) and knocked, knowing he had extremely good hearing even when asleep and always came out for a good hunt.

"Where's (name)?" Chifuyu mumbled worried and checked the cameras in the tank and there was nothing.

"There's footsteps!" Pah said pointing to the trail of water and fuyu already sent an elert to everyone.

"He couldn't have gotten far" Draken said, everyone worried as he, hanma and Mochi looked for the Merman.

"He's in the left wing" the intercom in Drakens ear spoke, the men rushing to him "awww" hanma teased as (name) sat with peke J and his feline wife and kittens, making sounds at them as he pet them "found him" Mochi said into the intercom "someone bring clothes" as they looked at the naked merman, (name) looking happy to see bus pod.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Oh also bestie do you have any reading recs for Steph stories but like. Not the common ones (i.e her solo, mainline appearances in Robin93 or Batgirl00, etc). bc I literally bought the JLI 1990 annual (the justice league Antarctica issue) bc it had cluemaster on it and it was the closest I could get to a Steph comic (genuine insanity on my part. This is before Steph was even introduced too she's not even mentioned 😭)

I have ofc read her DC showcase and her Solo short story by Damion Scott (which are some of her better known 'bonus material' I'm thinking) but I honestly don't mind rereading any of her stuff (I might reread her stuff from the Jon Lewis era of Robin bc I generally enjoy his take on Steph a lot).

Anyway feel free to take your time, Lord knows when I'll be free to read these (end of term hell) but yeah. Need more Steph in my life right now and she's not appearing in any books currently so...

I’m sure any comic i could mention you’ve already seen, so I’m not sure how much help I could be unfortunately. I will try my best however!!

If you’re doing rereads I have to start with mentioning Bruce Wayne The Road Home: Batgirl (2010). It holds such a special place in my heart. The closest thing we get to acknowledgment and catharsis for all the fucked up ways Batman treated Steph. It’s got a few weird lines but generally a very uplifting read for me. They finally let her slap Batman in the face!! Huge win!!!

One Steph related comic I hadn’t read until super recently is Suicide Squad #1 (2001), the comic where Arthur Brown “dies”. I always figured Arthur died in a suicide squad given the context we get in Robin 1993 but I never actually got around to finding and reading the actual issue until fairly recently. Definitely recommend checking it out if you haven’t yet, steph isn’t in it physically but there’s a few Steph mentions and they’re all Fucked up.

Birds of Prey #99 (1999) is a another good one where Steph is not there physically (she was busy being dead at the time), but she gets mentioned in a really fucked up manner. Important to my understanding of Babs and Stephs relationship in Batgirl 2009, it’s sort of a precursor to their relationship there. Also just great for the tragedy of Stephanie’s death and how people acted about her once she was dead vs towards her when she was still kicking. Also a win for Steph and Jason Todd parallels.

If you’re rereading Jon Lewis’s run you KNOW I have to mention Robin 111. So much is there. Her huge sweater. Her horrible bruise. Her fuckass bob. Her little smile. Her eyebags. The pure sweetness and raw anger and soft hurt. Big comic for me.

The Robin/Spoiler Special (2008) is very interesting and I haven’t seen anyone talk about it here (then again I am super new to tumblr so I’m sure it’s been discussed). A lot of the art is extraordinarily beautiful, and it’s the only comic which shows us any part of Stephanie’s Dead Year (that I’m aware of) so it gets points for that. I haven’t broken it down very much in my head but there’s really a Lot to look at and consider.

Another Steph comic I just recently finished fully reading is Batman Family (2002). 8 issue series I generally found enjoyable. Steph only appears in issues #2 and #8, and generally plays a minimal role. It’s mostly of interest to me bc where it takes place chronologically. It takes place more of less immediately after BW:Fugitive concludes. So for steph, about when she was fired as Spoiler but didn’t know It yet. I’ve been trying to place each issue timeline wise for her because there’s some fucked up Tim Drake related connotations depending.

Secret Origins 80 Page Giant (1998) is another essential steph appearance for me. It gives us harrowing insight into a lot of aspects of Stephs childhood, her relationship with Crystal, her experiences with abuse, and a painfully sweet glance at how she saw Batman when she was a kid. Takes place mid-pregnancy arc where Steph reflects on her past.

Idk if these count as ‘mainline’ but I feel like I have to mention Gotham Knights #22 and #37 (2000) anyway. Essential to my understanding of Stephanie’s dynamic with Batman during her time sanctioned as Spoiler. I reread these all the fucking time. They are exceedingly sad from a Steph POV so reread with caution.

Anyway, hope I was able to be at least a little helpful. Would srsly love to hear ur thoughts on any or all of these if you end up reading or rereading. No pressure, like you said, it’s a pretty busy time!

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @ciellajess  |  AO3: CiellaJess

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Interview with CiellaJess

CiellaJess and Dema talk Good Clean Solavellan Fun, favorite romances, and Veilguard plans

Dema: You're my first artist interview, and I am excited to talk shop. What inspires you to make art of Dragon Age?

CiellaJess: I just love the world and the characters. It's one of those things that just gets in my head and I can't let go of it. Every now and then I pull out a game, and get sucked back in all over again.

Dema: When you first played, did you start making DA art right away? Or did it percolate for a while?

CiellaJess: So I started DAO and DA2 multiple times back when they came out. I'm a giant RPG nerd and have a lifelong dragon obsession, but for some reason they didn't grab me and I always moved on to something else. But for some reason, when I tried Inquisition, it was just the right time or place I guess and I was hooked. I started art for that right away. Then I went back and plowed through the other games, no problem. I still mostly do Inquisition art, but I also love drawing my Warden too. Plus all the great companions.

Dema: Would you say you're primarily a character-artist?

CiellaJess: Completely. I wish I were better at landscapes and architecture, the ones in the game are fantastic, but it's never been my strong suit.

Dema: Mmmm yes. I deeply feel that, lol. The eternal struggle 😅What was your first piece of Inquisition art?

CiellaJess: A little two panel comic. I'd just beaten Vinsomer, shortly after the breakup scene with Solas. Dorian and Bull had gone down and it was just my Rogue Inquisitor and Solas managed to eke out a win. I had this little vision in my head of them happy and triumphant and looking at each other. The remembering that they were broken up. I had planned a whole comic, but only got around to the two panels. Them ecstatic and them remembering.

Dema: OOF

CiellaJess: Still probably the formative story for my whole Solavellan romance 😂

Dema: Solavellans sure know how to have fun! I'm trying to think how many times Solas has broken up with my characters....

CiellaJess: It's fun to have your heart broken over and over again, right??

Dema: Like, here I am again, crying into my popcorn. Do you have more than one OC for Inquisition, or are you fully devoted to the Saddest Elf?

CiellaJess: I've started a bunch. I keep trying to do an 'evil' playthrough, with a Trevelyan warrior that wanted to be a Templar. He even features in a fic I'm working on. But usually, some time after I get to Skyhold, I always  wanna go back to my Lavellan. I'm definitely a lil polyamorous when it comes to DA, but I have my favs for sure.

Dema: What are your top 5 romances?

CiellaJess: Solas, Zevran, Alistair, Isabela, Fenris. And Adoribull for bonus points. I've also been playing with the idea of [REDACTED], which is why I'm excited for the fic I got 😁

Dema: I am gunna redact that, but YEAH!!!!! I am excited for you! Related to collaboration: have you done a Big Bang before?

CiellaJess: Nope, this is my first one!

Dema: Welcome! What made you decide to join?

CiellaJess: I've done a few DA fic exchanges and they're always a blast. With DAV coming out, I was on the lookout for something like that. This seemed perfect!

Dema: We have gotten so lucky with the timing. Are you watching all the DAV news closely or are you enforcing some boundaries, haha? I'm personally vacillating back and forth between not wanting to see anything and going absolutely batshit over the tiniest crumb of a detail.

CiellaJess: Constant vigilance! 

Dema: Hahaha! What part has you most excited?

CiellaJess: I love the factions. Especially since it seems like they'll actually be addressed by the companions. Trying to figure out which I'm gonna try first has been hard.

Dema: Are you feeling equally split between them or are you between two or 3?

CiellaJess: Right now I'm leaning towards Shadow Dragons. My initial thought was Veil Jumper, but I tend to do elven rogue, and that felt like doing another version of Bellara. Then I read an interview that mentioned that Solas sees himself in Rook, and now I think that a former elven  slave that's working with the Shadow Dragons to try and rebel against Tevinter felt very much like young Solas. I'm really feeling that dynamic. Of course, that could all go out the window as soon as I get my hands on the game.

Dema: Haha, yeah, but it is so fun to think about!

CiellaJess: Definitely!! And I don't wanna miss out on the others either. Helpfully, my husband will probably go Mortalitassi, so I can watch him play that 😂

Dema: Brilliant strategy. Divide and Conquer. Thank you so much for your time today, it has been great interviewing you! I am excited to see your piece in a few months!CiellaJess: Yay! I'm so excited! Good luck with the rest of them!

[dangermousie]

Oh, brother...aka keeping it in the (royal) family

I recently realized that for some reason “multiple brothers one girl” seems to be a popular category in costume dramas. I am not sure why such sharing is necessary in a polygamous society for fancy royals each of whom can get himself a whole harem, but I am not complaining that it appears any remake of the Hollywood classic “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” would clearly be changed into “One Bride for Seven Brothers, and Some of the Brothers Spit Blood and Die” if it were a cdrama. Here are some of the dramas at issue. 

Liu Shi Shi appears to be the queen of this subgenre to such an extent that I am vaguely wondering if it’s in her contract. We are gonna start with THREE of her dramas:

Bu Bu Jing Xin - Liu Shi Shi has not one, not two, but THREE hot royal brothers, played by Nicky Wu, Kevin Cheng and Lin Gengxin, pine for her time-traveling self. Since this is an exquisite (no, seriously, it’s amazing) period piece about loss and longing, she ends up with none of them, instead of a hot vagely-’cesty gangbang as one might expect from that set-up.

Lost Love in Times - poor Liu Shi Shi, she’s a sexy witch having to pick between William Chan and his shady brother Joe Xu. To make it even trippier, the two actors look like each other, to really hammer the whole “siblings want her” theme.

The Imperial Doctress - why bust what’s not broken? It’s the true and tried Liu Shi Shi and hot royal brothers formula. She’s a doctor who spends most of her time practicing medicine, escaping barbarians and creating feminism, not noticing that as she pines for one royal brother played by Huang Xuan, another royal brother, played by infinitely hotter Wallace Huo, is pining for her.

Gong/Jade Palace Lock Heart - if Liu Shi Shi is the queen of that set up, Feng Shao Feng is the king, what with this and Military Seal, both of which star Yang Mi. Clearly, there are worse ways to make a career than stealing Yang Mi from a royal brother. Here, Yang Mi is a spunky time traveler in the middle of Kang Xi’s sons’ fight for the throne. She first falls for Four but ends up with Eight. In between, she offers to bang Four to save Eight as one does. Gives a whole new meaning to sharing is caring and “have you brought enough for the entire class?”

Legend of the Military Seal - Yang Mi and FSF strike again. FSF is madly in love with his brother’s wife, and since she’s not afflicted by blindness, she shares his feelings. Surprisingly, but delightfully, happy ending ensues. 

Who Rules the World - more like which brother rules awesome Zhao Lusi’s heart. Going by the rule of “hottest brother wins,” Yang Yang gets the girl in a drama that is pretty yum yum.

Colourful Bone - one hot seriously whumped out royal brother and one whiny immature one, oh who should the heroine pick? This drama stands for the proposition that you should protect and save abused people, especially if they are hot men, since they will always turn out to be an emperor in disguise. This drama btw is one giant kinkfest for yours truly.

The Eternal Love - you could make THREE whole seasons out of timetravel and brothers into the same girl, who knew.

Dreaming Back to the Qing Dynasty - if you’ve seen Gong or BBJX, you know the drill. Horde of queued brothers queueing for the heroine.

(Mine and all my brothers’, that is -Ed.)

Princess Jieyou - Yuan Hong narrowly escaped the curse of fancying his brother’s woman in BBJX, being about the only sibling not in love with LSS in that one. But clearly, you can’t fight fate and shortly thereafter he’s got to be a sister-in-law luster in a drama of his very own. He is a barbarian general who falls in love with a woman only to discover she’s to marry his brother. Angst and deliciousness and eventual happy ending (the husband fulfilled the uglier brother’s duty by eventually kicking the bucket.)

The Promise of Chang’an - if you want to watch brothers with the same woman but no happy ending, and have already watched BBJX, I present this recent drama where Cheng Yi gets to, as always, suffer beautifully watching the woman he loves marry his annoying brother. Pretty much everyone dies at the end of this one, going off to a great big threesome in the sky.

Twisted Fate of Love - will Sun Yi pick the delicate Tan Jianci or the sexy as fuck bastard that is Jin Han? Being a smart woman, she picks the latter and my hormones rejoice.

Go Princess Go - this is a drama that parodied every cliche there is, so why not brothers into one woman? Who is actually a man in a woman’s body making it even more delightful!

Ashes of Love - even being divine, with women from three separate realms available will seemingly not prevent love interests being a scarce resource leading to sibling love rivalry. Deng Lun and Luo Yunxi duke it out ostensibly for Yang Zi but in reality for who can suffer more prettily. Deng Lun might get the girl, but LYX wins the suffering crown, so it all more or less evens out.

Princess Silver - are siblings in love with the same woman not spicy enough for you? How about TWINS in love with the same woman? One awesome (Aarif Rahman) and one psychotic (Jing Chao) want our heroine and both marry her at one point. Only the awesome one gets to bang her though. (But the psychotic one gets to stick meathooks through his brother in compensation for not being able to stick...ummm...meathook through the heroine, so it’s all OK.)

Secret of the Three Kingdoms - and now we are gonna go REAL PERV! If twins are not enough for you, seekers of strong sensations, how about IDENTICAL twins? Ma Tianyu replaces his dead identical twin brother as the last Han emperor and gets to woo Wan Qian (whose plan it was in the first place.) At least she doesn’t need to get used to a new face?

We are gonna end here and not get into father and son sharing the same woman a la Empress of China.

(Congrats to Aarif Rahman for getting to bang both his brother’s and his father’s wives on screen. That is an interesting niche.)

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The use of metaphors for the bridge of Clara Bow still makes me stop in my tracks.

Beauty is a beast that roars Down on all fours Demanding "more" Only when your girlish glow Flickers just so Do they let you know It's hell on earth to be heavenly Them's the breaks They don't come gently

is just such a stunning way to put the weight that female celebrities feel to maintain their beauty and how if they accept aging is the only time that they can discuss how horrid it is to try to look 25 forever. (The outro of Clara Bow is another jaw dropper IMO).

I looooooooooooove Clara Bow for all these reasons and more, anon! I feel like I'm not smart enough to accurately discuss how much I love it, actually.

Taylor's broached this topics gingerly in past songs (Nothing New, Castles Crumbling, Never Grow Up, Right Where You Left Me, arguably Dear Reader and YOYOK to an extent, etc.) but I think this is probably the first time she's been that explicit about it in the music from this perspective.

One image I have of it is like the role-reversal of a circus ring. Instead of the ringmaster controlling the caged beast, forcing the animal whose spirit it's broken to do perform, the wild, untamed beast is threatening the ringmaster to keep up or else it will be eaten, risking itself more and more for the pleasure of the audience members. (Not sure why that's the first thing that sprung to mind when I heard it.)

Just the idea that this giant, threatening being is constantly at a woman's back, inching closer and closer to destroying her, roaring with ferocity as they try to outrun the threat... It's a lot. (I know people also have other interpretations of the line but I'm not getting into that.) And again it's a classic Taylor line that melds different concepts together because you've got the musing on beauty (like beauty is in the eye of the beholder) and the beast roaring (e.g. the metaphor for the impossible demands of the industry) and then fusing it together with "Beauty is a beast that roars" as a twist on "Beauty and the Beast," in which the Beast traps Belle in the castle but wins her over with his promises and his change of heart. (It scratches the same kind of itch as "shotgun shot in the dark" and the like.) Funnily enough, the picture of Beast from the movie is the first thing I thought of when I heard "a beast that roars on all fours".

Taylor long downplayed the pressures of the industry on women in this way until she started opening up about her eating disorder in Miss Americana, and this in some ways delves deeper into it in tiptoeing into the psychological impact of ~everything~. But it reminds me of that one scene in the movie where she's talking about how, to paraphrase, if you're thin they criticize you for not having an ass, but if you have an ass they criticize you for being too curvy, and it's all impossible to navigate.

What "Clara Bow" sings about is even more existential than that I think (not to downplay the severity of it by any means though). It's not just like, beauty as in appearance, it's everything-- it's the girlish naivety and obedience, but not so much that you don't have just enough ~charisma~ to capture the male gaze. And the machine of the industry can determine when you have it and when you've lost it, and you largely have no control over it. And if you dare to question it or step outside those bounds, you will be discarded as quickly as you were anointed. Before you know it, your time is up, and the next you is up to bat, and your value to society is effectively wiped out. But you won't know until it's already happened.

So these women twist and turn themselves their entire young adulthood to capture "it" in the hopes that it will assure their acceptance and legacy, at great harm to themselves because everyone else before them has done it too, only to find out the hard way that none of it mattered because they will be forgotten and replaced and completely broken just as they had done to those that came before them, even if they didn't realize it at the time.

The outro makes me feral too ngl.

[velourfae]

[My dear Arthur,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it. Arthur, oh, Arthur. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I'm with you, the world makes sense; but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I'm so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. There's a good man within you, Arthur, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free.

Goodbye,

Mary]