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kdollikesthighs · 2 days ago

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Take what you want and go: part 1

Itzy Ryujin x m reader This part is all fluff, no smut here yet. Later parts will have smut, so stick around for that? I'm starting projects and working on them piece by piece. If I don't post them, I end up revising them ad infinitum. Word count: 1,664 words.

This isn’t your usual Friday night. Music pumping loud, a relentless beat that fights against the one in your chest. The air in the club is thick with sweat, perfume, alcohol and disgusting desperation. Some of those stenches belonging to you. People grinding into each other like they’re trying to forget something. Or Everything. You’re not here to forget, though. Not tonight.

You’ve been working the same old fashioned for an hour now. You’re not here to get wasted. Your eyes are skimming the room, catching glimpses of silhouettes. Shadows dance, giving way to partially revealed faces, none of them familiar— Until they are.

Ryujin.

She’s standing on the edge of the dance floor, her light skin reflecting against her dark clothes. She’s dressed in a black waving top that drapes over her matching black shorts, clinging to her like they were made for her body, a faint sheen of sweat glinting on her exposed abdomen under the neon lights. Her hair falls in sharp, intentional waves, and her lips curl into a smirk as she tilts her head towards someone leaning too fucking close.

It’s been weeks since you last saw her. Weeks since she walked out of your apartment and left you staring at a closed door. You tried getting over her. So far, no success. Seeing her now, with that same effortless confidence and thrilling presence… it was no wonder you kept failing.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, or maybe she has and just doesn’t care. Her attention is on the person next to her. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re not here to intervene. You’re just here to see her, to remind yourself you're better off without her.

At least, that’s the lie you keep repeating to yourself. If you repeat it enough, you might end up believing it.

When Ryujin finally does look your way, it feels like the music is going on mute. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a single moment, the chaos of the club seems to fade into nothingness. Her smile drops, just barely, before returning to its original state, this time sharper. Calculated.

You know what’s happening. You should look away. You should finish your drink, leave the club, and never come back. But you don’t. You can’t.

Her dancefloor parasite says something, and Ryujin laughs. But her gaze keeps flicking back to yours, a challenge in her expression. “You’re here, aren’t you? Are you going to come to me, or are you going to keep pretending you don’t care?”

You’re hesitant, but her eyes always spur you on toward things you can’t control. You’re pushing through the crowd, the music getting louder and more obnoxious with each step to the dancefloor. Lifting your feet gets harder and harder as you close the distance between you and her.

When you’re finally close enough to appreciate the way her clothes are hugging her curves, she turns to face you fully, dismissing her companion with a clear gesture. They linger for a moment before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving the two of you standing face to face.

“Well, well,” Ryujin says, her voice smooth and teasing, clearly lying. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

She’s already getting on your nerves. She left, why is she being so casual? You should be screaming at eachother. Somehow, you manage to keep your calm. “Didn’t think you’d be here either.”

She shrugs, leaning against a nearby pillar with the kind of casual grace that always made her feel untouchable. “Seems you don’t know me that well after all.”

There’s a challenge in her words now. You’ve fallen for it too many times before. She’s baiting you, testing your resolve, and you hate that it’s working.

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” you say, glancing toward the dance floor where her companion disappeared. The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don’t take them back.

Ryujin arches an eyebrow, her lips transforming into an amused smile. “Jealous?”

“No,” you lie. A bit too quickly. You can’t even convince yourself.

She steps closer, the space in between you gradually disappearing. You can smell the faint trace of her perfume. It’s familiar. It’s the one she used to wear when she was desperate for a night of fucking you.

“You sure about that?” she asks, her voice dropping low, her mouth getting closer to your ear as the words exit her mouth and enter your brain.

You don’t answer. You can’t. For a moment, you let yourself take her in—the sharp line of her jaw, the glint of mischief in her eyes. She’s everything you’ve been trying to forget, and seeing her now, you can’t help but want her back.

Your next words lack conviction. As if not daring to say it to her, but talking to yourself about her. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say finally.

Her smile softens, just barely, and you see something vulnerable in her expression. But then it’s gone, as quickly as it appeared.

“Neither should you.”

“I missed you,” she says suddenly, the words low enough that you almost don’t catch them.

For a second, you wonder if she means it, or if it’s just another game. But the look in her eyes—the way they soften, just slightly—tells you it’s real. It feels mean, her admitting something like this. Spiteful.

You missed her too. You want to say it too. You want to reach out, pull her close, and forget about everything that’s been keeping you apart. It’s impossible.

Instead, you take a step back, the weight of her words settling heavy in your chest. “You don’t get to say that,” you struggle to accuse her.

Ryujin straightens facing you, vengeance painting her smirk. “Maybe not,” she says, her tone rich with defiance. “But I said it anyway.”

Does she want you to laugh? To cry? She’s always been like this… unapologetic, reckless, and impossible to pin down. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. That’s what makes her so damn hard to let go of. It’s… unhealthy.

“Enjoy your night, Ryujin,” you say, turning around and getting ready to move.

But before you can take even a single step, her hand catches your wrist, her grip firm like she can’t allow herself to let you leave. “Wait,” she says, her voice pleading. “Don’t go.”

You freeze. You want to run. You want to stay. You're torn between the two. You can’t help but turn back to her, against better judgement. There’s something in her eyes you can’t ignore. You could never ignore. It’s enough to make your resolve crumble.

“What is it?” you ask. There’s concern, but a hint of apprehension strains your voice.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she comes closer. Her hand brushes against your wrist again, lingering as though she’s unsure whether to pull you back or let you go. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she looks like she’s struggling to find the words.

“Why do you make this so hard?” she murmurs. You can barely hear the exact words, but you understand their meaning.

You blink, caught off guard. Was this a joke? “Me?”

Her lips pressed together, forming a tiny thin line, and she shakes her head, exhaling a sharp sigh. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But her hand doesn’t pull away. Her hand grips your wrist harder, a speechless contradiction to what her words were saying.

“Say it,” you inquire, her hand convincing you that you simply must know. The frustration she’s causing you impossible to ignore. “Whatever it is you’re trying so hard not to say, just spit it out, Ryujin.”

“You think you’re the only one who’s tired of this?” she says, biting back at your demands. “Of this endless back and forth? Like you’re the only one who’s hurting?”

Before you can even respond, she lets go of your wrist and takes a step back, the distance between you growing for the first time.

“You could’ve walked away a long time ago if you wanted to,” she continues, her tone colder now, defensive. “But you didn’t. So don’t stand there acting like this is all on me.”

“Ryujin—”

“No.” She cuts you off, her gaze narrowing down on you. “You keep showing up. Every single time. And then you get angry at me when I don’t give you what you want.”

Your jaw clenches at her provocations, her words pushing the exact buttons you’d hoped to avoid. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?” she counters back to you, crossing her arms. For a moment, she looks like she’s about to say more, but then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Her voice softens a little, like she’s tired. “You can’t have it both ways. You don’t get to act like you care and then walk away whenever I get messy.”

You feel like you’re about to boil over, but you subdue it. “And what about you? You keep pulling me back in just to push me away again. What do you even want from me, Ryujin?”

Her lips part, and she looks like she might answer. Her eyes soften, and her eyebrows turn upwards in the center. Her expression is almost vulnerable. But as soon as she catches herself, she reverts it all. Re-establishing her guard.

“Forget it,” she says abruptly, turning away. ��It doesn’t matter.”

And just like that, she walks off, leaving you standing there.

You watch her disappear into the crowd, your fists clenching at your sides. She always does this—gets under your skin, says just enough to make you question everything, and then leaves before you can get any answers.

But this time feels different. You’re not the same you were weeks ago. You won’t turn away. Just storm out in the other direction like you always did. You are getting a resolution today. You are not walking away this time.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #m reader #male reader #kpop smut #smut #itzy smut #ryujin smut

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mimipolo · 1 day ago

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hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

#squid game #squid game x reader #nam gyu #nam-gyu x reader #player 124 #nam gyu x reader #player 124 x reader #fluff #lasagna #thanos squid game #thanos

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lavenders388 · 2 days ago

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hey :) I was wondering if you could do a Dae ho fic, where he and the reader are absolutely oblivious to their feelings and Jung-bae decides to do what he can to push them together (the ultimate wing man) Thanks

~Oblivious~

Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

a/n: this is the cutest request ever:) i love jung bae and dae ho together and this is such a sweet idea! sorry if this seems a bit rushed!! i wrote it before school:3

"during lights out, we should keep watch over the group in pairs." gi hun states sternly. he is met with some mumbled "why?"s, but out of desperation and lack of anything else to follow in the place, everyone has silently agreed to just go with what he says.

as the recorded voice echoes throughout the large, intimidating room you all will call home for the night, you look around to who could be your second for watch duty. you think about choosing maybe guaem ja or her son as they have become the closest to you, closest to friends.

"hey y/n, you watch with dae ho tonight." you hear from the bunk next to you. you look and see it to have come from jung bae, the man who knows gi hun from before the games. you've grown to trust him as well, his genuineness aiding in delivering moments of relief from the awful place you've all found each other in. you notice he's trying to hide a smile.

"okay sure!" you say with a small smile, relieved to know what the plan is for the night as well as to have someone to spend it with. the thought of not being alone relieves your fear massively, and then thought of dae ho being your partner made your twinge.

"may i stay here until it's my turn?" you ask gi hun, referring to your bunk that's across the X side of the room. "yes of course, it wouldn't be safe to walk all that ways in the night." gi hun replies. the reminder of the unsafe situation makes your skin crawl thinking about what could come throughout the night.

all you want is to just go home, but knowing that home wouldn't be much better makes your spirit falter. you've grown to enjoy being apart of your group, the community being something very starkly different than what you're used to. you had a few friends before coming to the game, but you were never super close. they probably haven't even noticed you're missing yet. as the brisk thought of them not having a clue of your whereabouts crosses your mind, you look around to the group who decided they would protect you throughout this before even knowing you. they're all talking amongst themselves, joking and being kind. its refreshing. it makes you forget all about where you are.

you decide that when you're out you wont be notifying your friends back home. you'll take the money and spend your time with the people you're with right now, the people who chose to care for you out of the kindness of themselves.

thinking about this makes you realize how much you don't want to stop spending your time with these people. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft hand on your shoulder. you turn and see dae ho.

you smile at him, and listen as he begins to tell you why he got your attention. "we should stay close together until its time for our watch. would you like to sleep in the bed next to mine?" he says with his normal confidence, all though you notice his voice faltering a bit when he asks you to sleep next to him. "of course dae ho, thank you for asking." you say smiling at him again.

"actually would you guys be okay taking the first watch, it would probably be the safest one." you hear from above you as you see jung baes head poking out of one of the taller bunks. you both agree and get out of bed heading to where gi hun designated the watch point of your little base.

after you get settled, an awkward silence falls on you. "do you really think that people will try to fight us tonight?" you ask dae ho in a whisper, trying to start a conversation but also speaking your worry in a way that might make you feel better. "I'm not sure, but gi hun said that's what happened last time. he didn't say it was every night though, so maybe we'll be okay tonight." he says in a soft but still confident tone. it makes you feel safer, knowing that fighting may not even break out tonight. his voice comforts you as well.

"what do you plan on doing with the money when you get out?" you ask him, looking up at him for the answer. "well first i would pay off some debts, then i think i would buy a house, or even an apartment depending on how much i get. and then after that i haven't really thought of anything." he says with a chuckle that brings a smile to your face. "what about you, y/n?" he asks you. "honestly the same as you. like exactly. I wanna pay off whatever I can and then settle down somewhere. and then I'm not sure." you say to him with a smile. you think its funny you both have the same plan.

"i think thats a great idea y/n." he says to you softly and genuinely. you've grown to really appreciate the way he speaks to you, to everyone. you smile at him again as another awkward silence falls over the two of you. "if you make way more than what you think you will, then what do you think you would do?" he asks sweetly, caring for your answer as well as to dissipate the silence. "I have no idea!" you say a little louder than you should've, with a hint of sarcasm. "i think maybe id get like a cool car or something i don't know." you say laughing at yourself. your laugh makes him smile.

"what would you do dae ho?" you ask him in return. "i might start up a business or something, like maybe a coffee shop or a little market." he answers. you find this endearing. "that's really interesting!" you reply. "that sounds really fun, maybe ill do that as well."

"maybe we could do it together."

he states, his mood shifting from small talk to something more.

"i would really like that." you reply.

"hey lovebirds its our turn to watch." jung bae says laughing with gi hun from behind the two of you. you wonder how long they've been standing there.

as you crawl back into the bed next to him, you begin to hope there was truth in jung baes words.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #dae ho x reader #kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #seong gi hun #dae ho

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akajustmerry · 2 days ago

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Do you have any personal advice on writing good romance? People have vast tastes on the matter but I wonder what your personal takes are

hello!

honestly, I've been studying writing romance for a while because i want to maybe write a rom com novel and while I grew up writing fanfiction I don't think it's the same as actually crafting romance from scratch. I don't have a tonne of experience with it yet, but these are some strong feelings I have on writing good romance that i've gathered in my journey so far;

when you find a romance you really love, take it apart piece by piece like a clockmaker would a clock until you understand why it compels you. if you find a romance you hate, do the same thing. you'll learn a lot about your tastes from this and you'll also learn what "good romance" is to you because it's different for everyone.

I firmly believe all good romance is a portrait of 2 characters (or however many characters are involved). Again, this is just my opinion, but I hate reading or watching romance where I don't know the characters that well because then I'm just sitting there asking why they're even interested in one another. Focus on characters more than tropes. i think there's way too much focus on tropes in recent years.

this is VERY just my opinion but I think when writing a romance it's good to think about how and why the characters would interact if they couldn't be physically intimate. What do they share (values, goals, opinions, conflicts) with each other besides having the hots for one another? And look, for some audiences, having the hots is enough, but for me i don't like when a relationship feels so flimsy that a week of social distancing would break it.

i used to feel really self-conscious about writing romantic scenarios i hadn't experienced, and apparently this is very common for romance writers. it's very important to remember that most authors in fiction genres are not writing about things they've personally experienced either. do your research, write with confidence and compassion and you should be fine <3

MY BIGGEST BIT OF ADVICE IF YOU FORGET EVERYTHING ELSE IS sincerity. just sincerity. so many current or modern romances are so irony-poisoned and self-referential. it takes the immersion and joy out of it. unless you're doing something intentionally meta like lovers being trapped in a movie or something, there's no need for them to reference tropes or hating tropes or whatever. have your characters be sincere and write sincerely.

anyway, i hope this helps! i know you sent this a while ago but i really wanted to think about the answer. hope that's okay 💖

#writing #romance #anon

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astro-stars · 2 days ago

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Hear me out on this... TWST with a Southern! Reader.

Like, it's the first day of school, and obviously Reader can't remember the names of the two people they just met, so when Ace says one thing or another, complaining about someone called Riddle, they just go "Hm, yeah, sweetheart."

Ace drops his lunch.

Or when they step on Leona's tail by accident, immediately going, "Oh, darling, are you alright?"

Leona couldn't fall asleep for the first time in a while.

Or after Azul's overblot, how can he not cry more, especially when Reader is rubbing circles into his shoulders, cooing, "It's okay, love, let it all out."

The scammer, unfortunately, couldn't look Reader in the eyes for a while after that.

Or when Reader gets mad, like when they cook something for their friends and Grim eats it, their immediate instinct is to go "WITH ALL I DO FOR THIS HOUSE, YOUNG MAN, WHY DON'T YOU TRY YOUR HAND AT FEEDING THIS HOUSE?!"

By house, they mean the five other first years.

please ignore that theyre out of order😭 its just the order i came up with them!

Ace Trappola

During a Class Mishap Ace messes up a potion and it starts bubbling over, covering his face in soot. Reader chuckles softly and drawls, “Well, bless your heart, sugar, you tryin’ to invent fireworks in here?” Ace sputters, trying to explain himself, but the way Reader says “sugar” makes him forget what he was even going to say. He spends the rest of the class trying (and failing) to act unfazed.

Deuce Spade

When He Gets Into Trouble Deuce gets caught in yet another fight, his uniform a mess. Reader sighs, crossing their arms. “Now, darlin’, I know your momma raised you better than this. You think brawlin’ is gonna solve your problems?” Deuce blushes deeply, stammering out an apology, and promises to do better. He can’t decide if Reader’s scolding feels more like comfort or a proper lecture, but either way, it gets through to him.

Jack Howl

After a Long Run Jack comes back from a run, panting heavily. Reader hands him a water bottle and says, “There you go, honey. Can’t have you keelin’ over on me, now.” Jack pauses mid-sip, ears twitching. He mumbles a quiet “thanks” but spends the rest of the day wondering why being called “honey” makes his tail wag.

Ruggie Bucchi

When He Steals Food Ruggie swipes a bite of Reader’s lunch, thinking they won’t notice. Reader glares and slams their hand on the table. “Now, listen here, sugar. If you’re gonna steal from me, at least have the decency to leave a ‘thank you’ note!” Ruggie freezes, torn between laughing and apologizing. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ll leave a note next time, promise.”

Floyd Leech

During One of Floyd’s Moods Floyd is sulking in the lounge, glaring at anyone who comes near. Reader plops down beside him, ignoring the tension. “What’s got you in such a twist, darlin’? You look like a cat that’s been rained on.” Floyd blinks at them before breaking into a grin. “Heh, you’re funny. I like you.” He’s back to his usual chaotic self in no time, dragging Reader into whatever mischief he has planned.

Jamil Viper

When He’s Overworked Reader notices Jamil trying to juggle a million tasks at once. They gently take a tray from his hands and say, “Now, love, you can’t be doin’ everything yourself. Even the strongest trees need a little support.” Jamil hesitates but lets them help. Later, he finds himself thinking about how soft their voice was when they called him “love.”

Kalim Al-Asim

When He’s Overly Excited Kalim bursts into Reader’s room, talking a mile a minute about his latest idea for a party. Reader smiles fondly and says, “Alright, sugarcube, slow down. You’re buzzin’ around like a bee in a flower shop.” Kalim laughs, realizing he’s gotten carried away. “Sorry! I just get so excited talking to you!” Reader’s warm tone makes him feel even more enthusiastic.

Sebek Zigvolt

When He’s Loud (As Always) Sebek’s voice booms through the dorm, startling everyone nearby. Reader raises an eyebrow and says, “Well, darlin’, you sure do have a voice on you. Could probably wake the dead if you tried.” Sebek pauses, unsure if that was a compliment or not. He straightens up and replies, “Of course! A knight must always be heard!” But his face betrays the fact that he’s flustered.

Silver

When He Falls Asleep Reader finds Silver asleep under a tree and gently drapes a blanket over him. “Sleep tight, sugar. Even knights need their rest.” When Silver wakes up and sees the blanket, his heart skips a beat. He quietly resolves to thank them later, though he’s already blushing at the thought.

Vil Schoenheit

During a Self-Care Lesson Vil insists on giving Reader a skincare lesson. As he critiques their routine, Reader smirks and says, “Well, bless your heart, sweetpea. I didn’t realize I was sittin’ with the beauty queen of Twisted Wonderland.” Vil narrows his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitch upward. “Flattery will get you nowhere—though I appreciate the sentiment.”

Rook Hunt

When He’s Observing Them Rook starts waxing poetic about Reader’s charm and grace. They laugh and reply, “Oh, honey, you’re layin’ it on thicker than molasses on a pancake.” Rook places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “But I only speak the truth, mon trésor!” Reader shakes their head, amused by his dramatics.

Epel Felmier

When He’s Feeling Insecure Epel complains about being underestimated because of his looks. Reader pats his shoulder and says, “Now, don’t you fret, darlin’. Even the prettiest apples can pack the strongest punch.” Epel grins, feeling a little more confident. “Thanks, Yuu. You’re real good at makin’ a guy feel better.”

Idia Shroud

When He’s Awkward Around Them Reader catches Idia muttering to himself about a game. They lean in with a warm smile. “Whatcha talkin’ about, sugar? Don’t keep me in suspense.” Idia jumps, his hair flaring pink. “N-nothing! It’s nothing!” But the way they said “sugar” replays in his head for days.

Malleus Draconia

During a Starlit Walk Reader invites Malleus to stargaze with them, saying, “Ain’t the night sky somethin’ else, darlin’? Makes all the troubles of the day seem so small.” Malleus gazes at them instead of the stars. “Indeed,” he murmurs, though he’s not talking about the sky.

not malleus all on his own

TAGLIST; @soramcduckahyucky

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holyguardian · 1 day ago

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Aerith dipped her head with a quiet exhale, smiling to herself when Somnus admitted Nikolaos would have laughed 'about us'. They had been quite a lively pair, hadn't they?

Part of her wondered if she would have met the soldier under different circumstances. Had this tragedy not unfolded... would she ever have learned his name? Would he tease and laugh with Somnus about being banished to his room for those days, had he been given the opportunity?

It was an odd feeling. To have missed the chance of knowing someone in life, and to be left wondering 'what if'.

At first it was reflexive of her, taking what was offered by Somnus. Though she found herself feeling... flattered. She wasn't hungry and he still handed her more, a gentle little action. 'I care about you. I want you to be healthy. Please eat.' It felt like she had a lifetime of experiencing those sentiments, it was something that came from a place of love.

She tried not to read too much into it.

"I hope it's enough." Aerith mused, for all the beauty that Somnus saw in it, she could only see the empty spaces. It felt like she was supposed to fill in everything with details but the art of Lucis did not need clutter to stand out.

Her attention was pulled away with a quiet tone of question. The trumpet sounded fit for the occasion, and her eyes sought Somnus. It wasn't to call them immediately to gather. It was the first warning to prepare.

"So, it's almost time." As much as she tried to hide it, her tone betrayed her. She was nervous. It was an important ceremony and she had little preparation for it. Her brother might wail louder than the trumpet's call. The family may feel tense about their presence. And she felt in over her head, navigating new territory.

That was when Somnus took her hands. Guided her. It was such a simple act, his hands cleaning hers, and yet she felt disarmed by it. Like she couldn't quite catch her breath. Her eyes had to fall to the water, watching the water slowly become muddied by colour as he meticulously massaged her fingers clean and immaculate.

His hands felt strong, but in this they were so soft and controlled. Why was she thinking so deeply about this?

"I don't want to let anyone down." she admitted, her voice soft. There was another beat of silence before she spoke again. "What should I wear? I don't know if there is a custom about how people dress, I would wear our official colours of green and gold but..." maybe she was too in her head. Maybe she should let the Prince get an answer in.

Lifting her hands from the water, Aerith shook small droplets back into the bowl and exhaled a calming breath. She was grateful he hadn't whisked away. For a time, she felt selfish, as though she had been keeping him... but Somnus remained even when his duty had been 'done'.

It turned out she needed some gentle support when diving headfirst into something that was new. "Are there any chants or prayers I should know of?"

The situation ha dbeen tragic and sullen. And yet they also had their moments of light with each other. Little bouts of banter, looks, that closeness – still. When Queen Ifalan showed up suddenly, Somnus felt like they had been caught doing something far more scandalous. His panicked quick-spoken explanation of the situation somehow was taken by the Queen. With a certain look, but still.

The Lucian Prince was sure that this would haunt him for a while.

At least he could change out of the uniform that now felt scorching hot on his skin after the Queen had seen him in it soon. The change back into a simple toga was quick - and yet Somnus had to add his blue shawl and the signature royal decorum. This was an official evening after all.

Aerith’s fears about the urn’s fate were met with a little shake of his head and amused pull of one corner of his mouth.

“He really would have laughed about that – and about us. But no. That won’t happen. The urn will be secure. Have one of the servants carry it.”

Because surely it would be too public if the Princess was carrying an urn openly for the entire ceremony. A linen cloth to keep the piece of gratitude safe and hidden for now would serve well.

Looking over her shoulder – and sometimes urging her to eat by simply handing her grapes and pieces of fruit, so she would not outright ignore them – Somnus watched her finishing it.

It was a piece fit to stand in the libraries and halls of treasures of the castle. It was delicate, fine brush strokes detailing armour, wreath, temple, intertwined vines and bringing a new breath to the otherwise very bold and direct strokes Lucis used in its art.

“It’s beautiful”, he whispered quietly, eyeing specifically the soldier. He resembled Nikolaos. It was perfect. Such a wonderful piece and yet it was for such a sad occasion.

A faint noise travelled through the cooler air coming with the impending evening. It was a trumpet, calling out in a long almost wailing noise.

Somnus straightened his back and gazed towards the windows.

“That is the first call. Six more will follow to announce the beginning in an hour. It calls the people to gather.”

So, it would begin. Torches and fire bowls starting to light a winding path up to the hills, where priests and priestesses gathered first around the family and closest friends. Their chanting would follow the trumpets soon when the night started to lay over Lucis like a dark blanket.

His eyes travelled to Aerith again. She would need help. And as much as she had taken him around on their first evening to show that a festive was not that bad, now it was his duty to help her navigate this night.

Stepping towards her, he gently took the urn from her. Just placing it to the side. He would not force it out of her hands, should she actually want to carry it all the way. But she needed guidance. Like how he instead took her hands in his and guided her to follow a few steps back. To then dip her hands into one of the shallow bronze bowls of water. The warmth and oil helping him to brush and massage the paint off of her fingers, though he took his time with each one.

“Don’t be afraid of what is to come. I will be with you every step.”

#somnus-lucis-caelum #verse; star crossed

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concretejunglefm · 3 days ago

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I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 2).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies ->part 1.

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 3.2k

Dividers: Silent-stories.

It's a Friday night, in Vegas no less, and instead of being out on the strip, Sloan has dragged you to the hotel bar.

"Is there a reason for why we're in here and not out on the strip right now?"

"Because, the night is young and there are plenty of hot people here for you to mingle with." She says, nudging your hip. You look out at the sea of people and make a face, using your glass to hide it from Sloan's view while taking a sip of your drink, as you make your way through them from the bar to a booth.

You hadn't come here seeking a hookup, instead, you wanted a chance to clear your head. However, that had become impossible since the reason for your mental turmoil was now occupying the room next door.

You fall into the booth with a huff, moving over for Sloan to scoot in beside you as she leans in closer to speak to you over the music.

"You know what they say, to get over someone you need to—"

"Don't you dare say get under somebody else."

"Guy or girl, either will do." Sloan shrugs.

Sadly your experiences with women ended just as tragically as they did with men.

"Have you ever noticed how hot Jolly is?"

Sloan's unsolicited comment about Noah's bandmate and friend draws your attention as you follow her gaze and witness five familiar faces entering the bar. It doesn't surprise you and yet now you wish that you were anywhere but here.

"No, I can't say that I have." You're hopeful she catches the disinterest in your tone.

"Oh come on, look at him. Those tattoos, that long hair, the accent! God he's dreamy." She says, bringing her straw to her lips, taking a sip of her drink. "I bet he's a charmer too, a real gentleman."

"Are you really gushing over him right now?"

"A girl can look, can't she?" She briefly glances at you before returning her gaze to Jolly, who stands at the bar with his friends. "Besides, there's something about his age that really ignites my daddy issues."

"Okay, I think you've had enough of this." You reach for her glass, pulling the mixed cocktail away from her.

"I wonder if he likes to be called daddy."

"Please don't." You grimace at the thought.

Your mind had been plagued by what ifs when it came to Noah and his ex. The last thing you needed was to imagine any scenario involving his bandmate and his preferences in the bedroom.

"I'm going to ask him." She declares, shuffling herself to the edge of the booth.

"Sloan!"

"What? I told you, you need to go find someone to help you get over Noah and I need someone to just get my leg over." She laughs and you roll your eyes.

She's like a cat in heat when she finds someone she's interested in. You just wish it weren't someone so closely connected to Noah, and that she wouldn't abandon you right now to pursue them.

You watch her approach Jolly from across the bar, following her usual routine of leaning against him, brushing herself closer, and whispering something in his ear. Almost like clockwork, he finishes his glass of brown liquor and slips off with her.

She's too predictable.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet Noah's as you scan the bar. He notices your gaze and raises his glass in a toast. You decide to ignore it, downing your drink and the remaining contents of Sloan's before slipping out of the booth to head to your room for the night, maybe you'll even order room service.

Hopefully tomorrow will have a better start to it.

"He has got to be fucking kidding me." You grumble under your breath, huffing as you roll over and pull your pillow over your head to muffle out the sound currently coming through the wall you share with Noah.

Between the rhythmic banging against the wall and the high-pitched moans you keep hearing, it's safe to assume he isn't alone in there. If his intention had been to annoy you, unfortunately, it was working. You assume it's just another one of his many tactics to get under your skin.

So far, this weekend has been anything but peaceful, and you're starting to regret coming.

Even the tv does little to drown out the noise that is coming through the wall your bed is against.

Eventually, the noise all becomes too much and you find yourself throwing the covers off, drag yourself out of bed with a hefty sigh, deciding to confront the matter at hand and potentially tell him to shut the fuck up.

Rapidly knocking on Noah's hotel room door, you huff and the moment he opens it, you're met with him shirtless, wearing only his boxers. His chest glistens with what could easily be sweat or maybe water. From the sounds you'd heard coming through the wall from his room, you guess it to be the first, especially when you hear the heaviness in his breath.

"Oh hey, we're not being too loud are we?"

Your eyes narrow on him. You hadn't even spoken a word for why you were here, but he had already apparently figured out your reasoning.

"If you're entertaining guests, do you mind keeping it down?" You attempt to peer behind him and into the room, Noah purposely moving his larger frame to block you.

"Sorry. Had no idea we were being that loud." There's a smug grin on his face and what you wouldn't give to slap it off him.

It's two in the morning and perhaps for Vegas that is still early, but for you it's the middle of the night.

"Of course not. So, what unfortunate girl did you manage to convince to come home with you this time, huh?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise an eyebrow.

You have no genuine reason or explanation for asking him this, as if you genuinely care to know. Besides, the room has now fallen silent, compared to the incessant noise you were hearing through the wall just moments ago.

"Well…" Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, a sheepish expression crosses his face, which causes your own brow to furrow.

Then his words are cut off by the sound of a familiar giggle, your eyes widening as you hear the stretched out sound of his name from a voice which turns your blood cold. "Noooowah."

"No, wait! I can explain!" Noah reaches for you as you quickly turn back in the direction of your room, almost catching his fingers in the door when it slams shut behind you.

You spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, the sound of Noah's ex's voice playing on repeat in your head after hearing it come from his room. You more so hate the fact that you're allowing it to bother you at all, but the look on his face had almost screamed guilt to you.

What you hate even more is indulging in a Google search, which inevitably leads you down a rabbit hole, revealing that his ex-girlfriend will indeed be present at the festival they're scheduled to perform at on Sunday.

By morning, you're grumpy and sleep-deprived, but the thought of staying in the room next to them for any longer becomes increasingly irritating. With a heavy sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, quickly showering and changing. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you decide to explore the hotel and send Sloan a text, informing her of your plans.

"Excuse me?" You look up, only to find yourself once again face to face with the same asshole front man you've been trying to avoid.

It's been an hour of peace this morning and somehow, even in a busy hotel, he still manages to cross paths with you.

"What?" You say through gritted teeth, before you realize that the voice hasn't come from him.

It had been feminine and soft, coming from a young girl who stood nearby, with two of her friends.

"I'm sorry. I was wondering if you would mind taking a photo for us? We're such huge fans of him and..."

You don't need to hear the same old drivel.

Huge fans, their first time meeting him, would love a group photo, yada yada yada. It wasn't your first time standing on the sidelines and becoming an unofficial photographer for him and the fans who spotted him while he was out.

Catching sight of Noah's face, you see him raising his brows as if to express his silent shame regarding your rudeness directed at the young girl.

"Of course she wouldn't mind." He quickly interjects before you have a moment to register and refuse, forcing a smile as you take her phone from her.

"I'd be delighted." It was a lie, but you could hardly say no now. You'd already been an asshole once.

Lifting the phone, you glance at them through the screen before calling out. "Say cheese." They all comply in unison, the girls striking poses and huddling close to their idol, while Noah raises his signature peace sign.

As soon as you return the phone, Noah has already slipped away and headed back towards his group bandmates, who are eagerly waiting for him.

"Asshole." you mutter to yourself, only to overhear the girls as they begin examining their photo and giggling among themselves.

"Do you think he's single?" One asks.

"I hope so. I might try and shoot my shot with him if he is." Another responds, and you roll your eyes before casting a quick glance behind them, back in Noah's direction as you speak, making sure your voice is loud enough for him to potentially hear.

"I heard he ghosts girls once he gets bored of them." You look back towards the group of girls after catching Noah's head turning slightly in your direction.

"Then I'd just have to make sure he didn't get bored of me." The first girl responds.

"Good luck with that." You throw out a fake smile, catching Noah and his group of friends walking back in your direction. "Just make sure to get yourself tested if you're stupid enough to become one of his groupies."

As Noah passes by, you turn your full attention to him, speaking more to him than to the girls you're warning. "You never know where he's been."

"There you are!" You hear Sloan before she slips her arm around yours, dragging you away. Leaning in closer, she briefly glances back to the group of girls you had been standing near before asking. "Who are they?"

"Some of Noah's groupies." You make no effort to hide the annoyance in your tone, Sloan catching on and nodding.

"Right. Well, forget about them and Noah."

That had been the plan, you think, but you bite your tongue instead of letting the retort slip, following her lead through the hotel until you reach one of the restaurants serving breakfast.

"I've heard this place is great." She declares, slipping into a booth as you shuffle in on the same side next to her.

"Well after last night I could really do with a sugar rush right now." You reach for the menu, looking over the pancake options.

You pay no mind to the sudden influx of noise behind you, until you hear Sloan's voice. "Hi Jolly."

You whip your head around, almost giving yourself whiplash in the process, and see the table behind you is now occupied with the familiar sight of the Omens, Noah sitting himself on the booth which backs right onto your own.

"Oh, didn't see you there."

"Funny that." You force a grin and turn your attention back onto the menu before hearing him chime up once more.

"What are you thinking of getting? I heard the pancakes are great."

You know the question is directed to you. You can sense his presence, the heat of his gaze hovering just inches away from your shoulder as he scans the menu in your hands. In a sudden burst of energy, you slam it down onto the table, turning your head just enough to be face-to-face with him.

"Do you really have to sit here? A whole restaurant and you choose here."

"It's got the best view." A smug grin breaks out across his face.

"What?" Your voice inches a couple of octaves higher as though ready to scream at him before he draws your attention to a nearby window.

"Of the strip."

As quickly as your blood pressure has risen, it lowers again and you almost feel dizzy from it.

"I think I'm going to be sick." You mumble, turning yourself back around and leaning forward against the table, holding your head in your hands.

"Late night or something?"

He just doesn't know when to stop. Even worse is his friends don't even make an attempt to stop him or advise him to shut the fuck up.

"Not as late as you." You throw back, lifting your head and briefly glancing over your shoulder. "Besides, it's kind of hard to sleep when your neighbor is making a ruckus all night. What time did your guest slip out last night, hm? You didn't want to invite her for breakfast?"

"Guest?" Folio asks. "We didn't have anyone in our—ow!" He cuts off as you catch Noah jabbing him in the side, furrowing your brow at them.

"What can I say? She's not as high maintenance as most girls."

"By that you mean she's easy."

"Easy to please, easy to leave."

Right at that moment, a server approaches your table, completely disregarding yours and Sloan's, as she attends to the group of guys at the table next to you.

This makes you what you think is irrationally angry, until you hear Sloan mutter under her breath. "Bitch."

You have to press your lips together to prevent your laughter from escaping, and then, from behind you, you hear Noah's voice.

"They're with us too." A glance behind reveals him pointing a thumb in your direction.

Once the server has taken your orders, you hear Nicholas speak up, looking over into your booth as he asks. "We were planning on going to a laser tag place this afternoon if you want to come?"

"No."

"Yes!"

You and Sloan respond in unison, turning to look at one another as you respond with the same answers again.

Forcing a smile, you lean in as you speak under your breath to her so as not to allow any of the guys, particularly Noah who is sitting in the booth which backs against your own, to hear. "I thought this was a girls weekend."

"Are you really going to pass up an opportunity to shoot the man who broke your heart in the chest? Even if it is fake?" She argues and you contemplate it.

You can't deny the idea isn't promising, perhaps even therapeutic.

"Good point." You nod and pull back, turning your head to look over at Nicholas. "Okay, we're in."

Though you don't look, you swear from the corner of your eye, you catch a grin forming on Noah's face.

"I can't believe that you've convinced me to do this." Looking over to Sloan, you shake your head, pulling on the vest for your laser tag session before stepping up to her for help tightening it where needed.

"Would you rather be back at the hotel in the spa?" She gives you a look and you quickly cave, mumbling a 'no' under your breath.

Unlike Sloan, a spa day was hardly something you found enjoyable. You were more of an active person, and a game of laser tag, where you could potentially shoot your ex multiple times without feeling guilty or causing any harm, provided you with a much-needed form of therapy.

"Then it's settled. You're all ready." She declares and gives herself a spin for you to admire her new combat laser tag look. "How do I look? Do you think Jolly would like it?"

"I think you could wear a black bag and still pull it off." You laugh, slipping out from the changing area and back into the waiting area. "Did you really hook up with Jolly last night?"

"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." Sloan raises a hand to flip her hair back over her shoulder.

"Please, you've told me, in excruciating detail, might I add, the things that have happened pre first date between you and someone else."

"I don't know what you mean. Some of us are a little more classy than those who will give their ex-boyfriends a quick jerk off in the tour bus bunk."

You scoff, your mouth dropping open. "Jolly told you about that?!"

Stepping up to the counter, you both receive your laser guns and hold yours up in aid of your threat that follows. "He'll be the first on my hit list."

The upside to running around in the dark with only LED lights lighting the way is you have yet to actually run into your ex. The room is big enough to spread out and hide, as well as avoid crossing his path. You almost start to wonder if he's here at all until you literally run into him.

The first thing you do is raise your laser gun to him and shoot before he bursts into laughter. "We're on the same team, you goof."

You look at the target lights on his vest and then the ones on your own, seeing they're in fact both red. "Fuck you." You grumble and attempt to shoot him again, though it causes no damage.

"You really want to shoot me that badly, huh?"

'Oh, you have no idea." Even in the dark your eyes lock dead onto his, feeling nothing but pure anger towards him.

Between his smug attitude this morning and the events you witnessed last night after banging on his door, you were more than prepared to take him down if necessary.

"Listen, about last night."

You're both standing in the open, exposed to anyone who might still be in the game. Instead of suggesting that you move, you give him the chance to explain himself, especially since you notice movement behind him when you glance over his shoulder.

"It's not what you think."

"Like I haven't heard that one before, Noah." You scoff, your gaze shifting back to him.

"I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are but unfortunately for you, I don't care." You take a step closer to him, your gun pointed at his chest once more.

"Have you not learnt that you can't do anything with that, yet?" He chortles and you gaze up at him, a wicked grin crossing your lips.

"I can't, but he can." You gesture behind his shoulder with a nod, and just as you do, Folio sneaks up behind him, firing his laser and causing him to be ejected from the game.

"How does it feel to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought you could trust?"

You're aware that he understands the metaphor here, that Folio's actions represent his own, and leaving him with a final smug grin, you dash to one of the dimly lit corners of the spacious room to complete the remainder of the round with the few of you who remain.

Although your team technically loses, it feels like a victory for you because it means Noah has lost. Considering his reputation as a sore loser, you find amusement in watching him sulk as you finally exit the laser tag arena.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @blade-dressed-in-red @deathblacksmoke @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @Chey-h @halfalgorithmhafdeity @annthepenguin @samanthasgone

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #concretejunglefm fics #Spotify

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welcometoyunosworld · 1 day ago

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A connection

𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐢-𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 / 𝐆-𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼 / 𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁: 𝘍𝘌𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘌! 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘒𝘱𝘰𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘎-𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘖𝘕 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘜𝘚𝘐𝘊, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘪-𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 💋

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Being a famous singer and song writer wasn't just about fame or money, your love and passion for those inspired you to make music, the type of music that people can relate to, can vibe to and would absolutely love. You find ways to express your emotions in other ways. Making music, your fashion and your art. You really seek for something, anything, yet you still don't know what you really want.

When you were just a little girl, you'd be on and on about beung famous and rich, about how you'll be the star of the show. Now you're here, in your studio, staring at the blank screen of the computer in front of you as your mind won't leave you alone about your longing for that thing even you don't know. Grabbing a pencil and you sit up straight then began to write, making sure to find the right words or not. Trying to express that feeling of emptiness, feeling of being.. not enough. You feel empty, alone and.. sad.

You had many unreleased songs, most of them were songs about your struggles, pain and loneliness. You didn't plan to release them anytime soon.

You sighed and folded the paper and shoved it in the drawer before you left to get ready for your interview for today. You've been going viral again after one of your old songs started to go viral because it was used for an Edit Video of this one Kpop Idol that you were familiar with. After checking it out, you can't help but smile a bit, G-DRAGON, aka Kwon Ji-yong. Oh he was cute alright. And after that, you were listening to POWER by G-DRAGON on repeat while you were getting ready.

As you finished quickly, you made it just in time. It was bigger than you thought. The room was big, furnitures in the center and a coffee table in front, it was pretty simple, just the room size got you wondering why they need such a big ass room. But still, as your name was announced, you walked into view of the camera with your best smile and greeted the host with a polite smile.

“So Ms. Y/n, what are your thoughts about your old song that's been going viral again even though that song was years ago?” You hummed and took a good moment to think about your answer. “I am really happy that people are liking my old songs too, it brings me great gratitude to all my fans. I don't mind if they would like some or all my old songs, all that matters is that they do enjoy listening to the songs.” You replied with a smile as the host nods and nodded in respect.

“Ah what about the famous edit that blew up? Using your song for the Kpop idol G-DRAGON.” You raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I love it. The edit it amazing, my song definitely fits the Dragon himself. Very cute if you'd ask me. I had to watch it a few more times because my goodness this is the cutest man I've seen in ages.” You said with confidence and your honesty, you really found him cute, especially the edit.

“Ah so then, your thoughts about G-DRAGON and his music?” You had to take a deep breath, oh you were definitely gonna give them your 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁 thoughts.

“I think G-Dragon is very cute, i absolutely enjoy his music. It's just amazing! I just learned more stuff about him after i saw that edit of him. And he definitely ate and left no crumbs for not even hesitating to diss someone or something. His music gets me hyped and motivated, and when i see his cute face i just close my eyes and thank god that i find a REAL man out here. And oh the way he raps, god save me, i wanna hear more of his songs old or new, whatever. G-DRAGON, the living legend, ICON!” The host bust out laughing at the way you describe your answer, but he was satisfied with it and so are you.

At the near end of your interview, it was the last question..

“𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗚-𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻?”

You nodded with a snap of your fingers. “Yessir, absolutely. I would LOVE to see this man.” You said as you smiled happily though you'd doubt you'd be able to actually meet THE G-Dragon here, but a small part of you wished you would meet him, because you're already becoming a big fan of him, Hell, you wished you knew him sooner!!

“𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆, 𝗠𝘀. 𝗟/𝗻.”

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar red hair and head scarf of THE living legend himself. He couldn't help but chuckle at your adorable reaction. “OH MY HEAVENS-” You ran up to him, but you didn't hug him. Oh not yet, you simply stood there, just admiring him which made him chuckle and give you his signature sweet smile. “Oh he's even cuter in person, is this heaven?” That only made him laugh softly and gently pat your head. “You are very gorgeous.” He said softly and he opens his arms for you, to which you gladly hugged him.

That interaction between you and Ji-yong left your fans and his fans in absolute shock. The moment was wholesome and very heartwarming. It was a moment you would never forget, especially when you even saved that photo of you two hugging. Ji-yong, too, couldn't help but keep the photo too, even printing it out and have it somewhere in his stuido. And each time he'd look at it, he can't help but smile softly, missing the warmth of your embrace, the angelic sound of your voice, the excitement and happiness he hears in your voice when you saw him.

After some days, you eventually found his Instagram, and liked his recent posts, even his stories too. You just can't help but miss him, you two didn't even have a proper talk in that interview because he showed up at the END of the interview. You find yourself smiling and giggling when you received a notification that Ji-yong liked some of your posts too.

It started off like that, just showing each other your support and love for music, until it turns into texting each other daily, until it turns into having calls here and there. It's been a long time already, nearly two months, you don't even know, you were just feeling so much more better. After one of his tours, you gave him a surprise visit at the dressing room while he was getting his hair styled. And before he went out, he gently placed a kiss on the back of your hand and said..

“𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺, 7𝘱𝘮?”

You couldn't even speak, but you managed to whisper a small “Yes..” and he smiled softly at you, feeling so happy.

You don't even feel that lonely anymore after meeting Ji-yong, that emptiness in you, was slowly going away, replaced with the fast beating of your heart when you were waiting for Ji-yong to pick you up, it took about five minutes or so. He arrived in that shiny car and he rolled down the window, he gave you a little smirk. “What a lovely view.” He said before he got out and led you to the door, opening it for you and even helping you get in carefully.

𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙣.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Aaaaaaa thank you!! Hope you like this one Baes!💋

#bigbang #kpop #choi seunghyun #daesung #gdragon #bigbang x reader #kpop x reader #kwon jiyong #taeyang #music

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ultramaga · 11 hours ago

Note

Musks comments are also carefully edited out, because sentimental sloppiness about his heart going out to the audience directly contradicts THE MESSAGE. Nazis saw that stuff as womanly, effete, decadent. It was exactly what they hated.

And has been pointed out, over and over, both Israel and the ADL say it wasn't a Nazi salute, so Leftists are claiming they know better than the people who studies this shit for their entire lives.

Meanwhile, Hamas DOES do the actual Nazi salute, and they sing its praises. "Punch a Nazi" doesn't apply if their skin is tan, apparently.

Entire nations are gearing up for war against Israel and the West - and Leftists are pretending they can't see anything. Meanwhile, they hyperfocus on the dab man, because they hate him and think lying is fine because the end justifies the means.

Elon Musk and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu visit Kibbutz Kfar Aza, which was attacked by Hamas on Oct. 7, on Nov. 27. 2023. (Screenshot from Israeli Prime Minister’s Office video)

Leftists don blackshirts and run around burning black businesses and smashing synagogues.

They march arm in arm with Islamofascists who called for the death of all Jews decades ago. Some make excuses for Leftists, saying that they are the stupidest people on the planet, and they can hardly be expected to watch videos of actual nazis saluting, let alone read Shirer or examine the irony of wearing blackshirts and burning homes as a way to "fight fascism".

But I don't. I agree that most are moronic, true, but there's a hard core who know what they are doing is evil -- and they do it anyway.

Which is why figures like Sargon of Akkad abandoned the Left, and now Ana Kaparian and even the rest of the Young Turks are walking back to the centre. There's an army of North Koreans marching to the Ukraine. If they crush it, what's to stop them rolling onwards? China hasn't mobilised yet, but it built bases for a land invasion long ago, and has made moves to seize Greenland, which is the perfect staging point for an invasion of the United States.

Everything is gearing up for war, and Leftists have already declared that they will be fighting against us. I have to wonder - do we really have to wait until they stab us in the back?

Is this really gonna be the hill you take a stand on? Like, I don't know what else you wanna call the motion Musk made, but you can't tell me you believe it's the same motion one uses to call for attention or quiet as a speech giver? Like, if you saw some other dude making that same motion, I know what your first thought would be.

I've literally watched Harris make the same motion on multiple occasions. So have you, probably.

The nazi salute is a very specific gesture. It is rigidly codified, because the nazis liked to pretend that they were the most disciplined and precise people on the planet in between getting their asses handed to them by random civilians and watching all their garbage hardware break down again. It's a mess of sharp angles and perfect posture that you would definitely get flogged or worse if your officer saw you fuck it up.

It is not a sloppy sweeping gesture combined with a weird sort of slouch to the side.

Musk is a lot of things. An imbecile, a jackass, a narcissist, an incompetent, multiple flavors of criminal... any close association between the owner of a business with government contracts and the people setting government policies has to be called a 'conflict of interest' if you're being generous and 'high treason' if you're not, and this 'department of efficiency' or whatever they fuck they're calling it is definitely going to be a massive drain of resources which serves no purpose except maybe to transfer more tax money into the pockets of billionaires.

But a nazi is not just a generic term for bad guy. A nazi is a specific thing that he is, by all available evidence, not.

#long #leftism #war

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joannasprose · 3 days ago

Text

CHAPTER THREE: Velvet Coil

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: intoxication, alcohol use/abuse, violence, harassment, mentions of self harm, vomit, and blood - please read with discretion.

AUTHORS NOTE: so sorry this chapter took so long to come out,, but I hope you guys enjoy!! :) AND for better formatting, please go view it on ao3–there are so many things that I did not get to on here because I am lazy and very tired :)

@/joannasprose

——

velvet coil, half waif, ". . .I don't wanna talk, I wanna hold still. So I don't spill the contents, I've been trying so hard to keep filled. . ."

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

AFTER

WHEN SHE THINKS back on it, a night filled with as much blood spilled as words exchanged, Vi wonders what could be if she hadn't pushed you away. If she put her internal qualms to rest within the deep pits of the Ring - buried and thrashing underneath flesh and dirt. But she didn't. And that fact alone makes her stomach churn. An unwanted sequel to your story begins; and she wonders why she had let it begin at all

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

BEFORE

VI'S POV

HER VISION IS SLOPPIER than she expected it to be. An arm rests over her face as her eyes squirm around the room. Drunkness, a faraway yet familiar thing sits well in her stomach. Her limbs begin to ache as that hand falls to her side, as she pulls herself to a sitting position atop her mattress.

The drunkness clings to her like a sobbing child. Vi finds herself between a world of hangovers and self-loathing as she finally picks herself up, her body betraying her when she goes for the bathroom.

Her eyes skim over her features; black makeup that's smudged, hardly hiding anything, black hair that reveals hints of a familiar pink, one she notes to dye later. And finally, those bandages wrapped tightly around her chest. Something she finds strangely comforting in her dismay. The lights above her hiss and flicker as she reapplies the dark makeup over her eyes and down her cheeks.

And like clockwork—as though it was a prophecy by God himself—a sickening, wet bile travels up her throat, and against her tongue lying flat in her mouth. Vi throws up in the once white sink. It comes out as liquid, the same texture and flow as water but the taste of it leaves her throat and tongue sour.

Even in all its repulsiveness, Vi finds she doesn't mind it—not as much as she should.

Pulling herself away from the sink, she watches as the rest of that liquid swirls down the drain. She forces her sloppy vision away from the scene in front of her, leaving her apartment and preparing to face the night.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

( play I'm Your Man by Mitski )

THE PIT, AS WELL as the bar itself is brimming with people, their lively conversations bouncing off the walls riveting through the air. The air, she finds, smells of alcohol and something she doesn't recognize. It isn't of anything sweet, not like shimmer, but instead iron . It wells through her nostrils, making her face scrunch up as it nauseates her far longer than it should.

The Pit, she thinks.

She assumes it's the left-over alcohol still apparent in her system, flowing and resting wherever it feels welcomed—but Vi undermines this fact as she pushes her way through the crowded, making her way to the sparsely filled bar.

Her next fight isn't until an hour or so—that gives her more than enough privilege to indulge in the stinging taste of that familiar liquid. To let it fall against her tongue and shield her from the past and present. She's situated herself at the end of the bar, watching as the bartender strides towards her, leaning himself against the wooden counter, he speaks, "The usual?" He questions, though he already knows the answer. It had been the same sweet melody for the past two months; needless sympathetic greets or mandatory questions always leading with, ' how do you like it? ' And ending with, ' try it, see if it's good. ' Both of them know better than this, she assumes, but wallows in the role-play, for no other reason than the feeling of familiarity.

And so she nods her head, a quick, and quiet hum leaving her lips as she does so. She knows he can't hear it, on top of the overbearing music, along with the voices, it would be impossible to. It serves as an acknowledgment for herself rather than him.

In the split of a second, her mind wanders to you as she waits, begrudgingly. Recently, it becomes a constant, another familiarity in which she had unwillingly become used to; that her mind would fall to you. Instead of remembering the you she was sure was dead, buried beneath rubble and dirt—she sees you for what you are now.

Taller. Not taller than her, but taller than your younger self. Your face, from its shape to the features you hold, had molded and grown into you, onto you. Though, now she can only think of hardness that you carry along with you. You aren’t void of your gentle nature, but in it beholds something like orchids and magnolia's. A tenacity holds you as you hold it; so carefully, so tenderly as you look the way you do.

At these thoughts, she lets out a scoff.

Again, she thinks to herself. Again she falters, letting herself thinking of you in ways, in places where she isn’t welcomed. As if she deserves even an ounce of your hate, your pity. Let alone your love.

But those thoughts—an invitation to her self-loathing—reel in closer as the bartender brings her drink, as her lips meet the rim of the cup and as her eyes find you, through the bustle of the crowd.

The strangers that present themselves in front of her are packed like sardines, bodies upon bodies pushing up against each other in almost a frantic manner. And there you are, inside that ocean of bodies as you stand there, like someone drowning amongst a strong rip tide.

Seeing you there, dressed in a shirt that hugs you perfectly, as well as dark overalls that rests over your body carefully—she finds herself taking yet another mouthful of her drink. You thumb at the swell of your lower lip, and from what she can tell you dig your thumbnail harshly into it, making her wince.

Her eyes cower.

In recent weeks, she knows she would be a liar if said she didn't look at you without a rush of guilt swelling in her chest, a feeling of shame. Not only for the way she had spoken for you, but for the way she abandoned you. It's kills her. This game of cat and mouse. Vi feels as though she was born just yesterday, the world around her changing, a domesticated animal who knows nothing and is nothing. And she thinks of you as that harrowing prey—biting and not knowing any better. Not knowing when to quit; a bite too filling for your own good, never knowing when to quit.

Because what else could she offer you but calloused, damaged pieces of her?

Something not worth loving back.

Without pushing her way through the crowd, holding as she wants to, and pleading for forgiveness, she instead finds herself subtly making her way throughout that crowd, never minding you as heads for the door that beckons her.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

HER FINGERS STRETCH FURTHER away from each other, displaying the tiny scars and scratches among her flesh.

She's sat on a wooden bench in the waiting room, her head pressing against the wall behind her as her eyes upturn towards the paint-peeling ceiling.

The alcohol from moments before still sits wistfully inside Vi. She can tell by the way her vision cowers at the tiniest brighten of light, by the way her eyes squirm before she shuts them tightly.

This time, her mind doesn't befall to you, she doesn't grant herself that luxury. This time, they uncomfortably settle on Jinx. All of it, the complexity of the relationship she holds with her sister bewilders her; in more ways than one. She thinks of the pleasurable things: how tall she's grown, the length of her hair and the deepening of her voice. And the un-pleasurable things, things such as her willingness to die. The brutality in which she holds, and that undeniable change.

Ever since her pardon from the prison, she found that everyone around had changed in their own ways. Ekko, and all his secrets. Jinx, in her anger and violence—a violence she wishes weren't there. And finally, you.

It's a subtle change, one hidden deep within the creases of your face but she knows it's there. That change in softness. It isn't as though you've grown harden like herself, it's in fact the opposite that makes her uneasy. It's more softer than it ever had been, even with her harsh words, the way she had pulled away from you; that tenderness you held for her never left. Still there, as brimming as ever.

These reflections lap inside of her like a panting dog, over and over until it's found a bowl of water. Even now, the taste of Brims Delights can't lull her into false tranquility. In recent weeks, she finds that the feeling of fist meeting bone serves as a tolerable placeholder among all.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

THE TASTE OF IRON, lies flat on her tongue, a pool of blood gushing in her mouth.

The man in front of her—her opponent—look at her with a thin smile pull on his lips. It's sharp, as well as the line of his jaw. During their exchange of fists prior to this, Vi had bitten her tongue, making her wince.

He taunts, nearly teases as he moves around the inner circle. Her neck cranes in a familiar annoyance. Here and there, her eyes have fallen to your watchful ones behind the black net absently. She tells herself it's because of that, her wandering eyes—is the cause of her wavering attention. Why she hasn't gotten this over with, why she finds herself dragging the fight out.

She damns you each moment her eyes meet yours. Because to Vi, your eyes land her like a bird to its prey, so much so it's hurts. But as you watch her, she's found that she wishes you would keep watching her. Forever like this; indulging in what she's good at. Using her fists.

And so she turns away, and finally gives her opponent the attention she's been depriving him of.

This time, she nears closer to him, watching closely on her swaying feet as he withdraws closer towards the wall. In confidence, his fist goes for her face, but she quickly dodges it—countering, doing as he does, she goes for his face as well. But unlike his, hers lands.

Beneath skin, beneath his flesh, she feels a tooth crack within his gums, making the tiniest tilt of her lip lift. Grinning. Perhaps it's because she knows you're watching, always there—somewhere behind that knitted net, she knows you watch her. But she smiles faintly. Even within that lingering drunkenness, she smiles as though she's half there and half not. And as he spits out a bloody tooth, his brows furrowing in a hungry vexation.

She lets him aim a hit at her gut, but she's quick on her feet, so Vi moves to her left, and he misses again. As if toying with him, as he had her, Vi finds herself going in for a hit in his gut—mimicking his own movements, but landing perfect blows each time. A crumble in his ego, and she knows she's done it when his mouth opens, as he clutches his stomach. When he looks up to her, resentment blinks back.The look on his face now, as she looks down on him, reads, you fucking cunt. But he's standing now, and she’s sure he wants to continue, but Vi doesn’t let him.

In a fast repetition of intervals, as she makes his back hit the wall—her fists press into his gut hard, so much so, that it makes her nearly wince herself as she feels his stomach cave in on itself.

At this, her victory—the crowd erupts in cheers. The frail feeling of excitement has died down now, and she finds herself returning to that feeling of nothingness that invades her entire being.

Her eyes don’t search to find yours. She understands now, that all it gives you are empty promises of nothing. So she leaves the pit, disappearing into the long, dark tunnel, her shadow following behind her.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

WHEN VI FINDS SHES out of sight, back in the waiting room, her body slumps against the wall more unkindly than before. Her hands fall between her lap, a breath leaving her lips.

Even though Vi had won, it wasn’t as though her opponent had been completely bad—when he did manage to land hits, they were hard. And much to her dismay, after that feeling of anticipation wore off, to prove something—she’d started to feel hurt that came with it.

As much as the internal pain, the physical pain was just as bad. In some morbid game, a game in which she did not understand, Vi found her relishing in that pain. A good, ever-lasting pain. Like pushing the pad of her thumb against a tender bruise, taking pleasure in that.

Suddenly, a noise sounded from the near distance. Lifting her head off the wall and turning her attention from the ceiling, and towards the sound, she sees her former opponent, a wild look in his eyes as nears her. Immediately Vi sits up vaguely, as she acknowledges him with the tilt of her chin subtly towards his chest, looking up at him.

"You think you're better than me, because you won?" He questions, crossing his arms over his broad chest, as if to intimidate her. She tilts her head to the side, her face scrunched in annoyance. Though, behind that annoyance, was the smallest tinge of amusement as her lips upturns slightly.

"If I'm being honest," she says, though the words she says next aren't filled with contempt, nor the fraction of pleasure from before—she finds her words are genuine, "I could barely remember you, seriously. I don't even know your name." This alone, her statement of overlooking him entirely, makes the man furrow those wild eyes.

He steps up to her, and the moment he does, Vi stands along with him. His body is taller, much broader compared to her own, but Vi isn’t weak. She looks at him as he had her within the Ring, eyes glossed over with resentment, back the fuck off, or should I kick your ass again?

As though they shared some telepathic connection, the man's face had still buried in fury, but he steps away from her. Turning away, and heading back towards the door—or rather, the curtain in place of the door—he utters, fucking bitch, under his breath as he disappears behind that curtain, huffing like a small child.

At that, Vi slumps back into the wooden bench, void of comfortability as she faintly begins to sober up.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

SEVEN YEARS BEFORE

"YOU DON'T LIKE HER," Powder says, clinging to end of VI's shirt as she smiles, "you love her!" Powder drags out the last letter of love, as if to dig to knife deeper into her skin. Vi shoves Powder gently, looking to the gravel beneath their feet as they walk together. Now, as Powder prods more and more, she finds what she feels beneath her skin isn't anger, but rather, embarrassment.

The soft hue of her face is tinted in red. The swell of her cheeks are feel hot, as well as the tips of her ears.

"You're so stupid," Vi says, slinging her arm over Powder's shoulders, pulling her close, she speaks, "don't go running your mouth, okay? Or else. . ." Vi says, trying to fight the smile from her lips, "or else superrr scary monsters will get you!" She pokes at her younger sister's side. Vi knows Powder is far too old for petty scary stories, but she smiles as Powder's laugh echo's through the empty alleyway of Zaun. No one else but them to spare it any company.

"Okay! Okay!" She says. Vi pulls away from her, straightening her posture as Powder holds out her pinky, "I promise."

Vi smiles, interlocking her thumb with Powder's as she says, "Promise."

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

FROM THERE, VI HAD left the dingy room, and ventured further throughout the crowded space that was Lotus’s Delights. Like second nature, she made her way through to the bar, though this time there had been more people than the first time she'd been there.

Vi sat along the end of it, leaning her weight as the bartender—Louis, she assumes—eyes her, before turning away and grabbing a cup from underneath the counter. Vi rests her head in her palm, her eyes falling to nowhere in particular, except on the flow of bodies drifting towards the bar. To this, she sighs with exasperation.

Louis brings her the glass cup, filled the brim with bubbles sizzling on top. Before he leaves, he says, with a smile, "No need to pay. It's on the house tonight, congrats on your gracious win." He humors, and Vi sends him a smile of gratitude as she smells takes the drink into her hands.

When he leaves, already tending to other patrons, Vi brings the rim of the glass to her lips for second time tonight. Again, it floats through her like tendrils of smoke through clean air.

Vi finds escapism in it, that she can admit among other things. It's always been there, something looming within the dark embrace of her own shadow. Back in Stillwater, in place of that stinging tranquility, she would indulge in many fights, ones that usually ended with her being beaten. The feeling of nothingness that wafted through her hands—the breaking of skin, and the pour of blood that followed. All of it was morbid. All of it was comfort in its purest form.

And now, Vi would bring the remaining of her to her lips, downing it and calling Louis for another—this time, he makes her pay for it, knowing how careless she could get. As Vi brings the now full cup towards her lips, her eyes find the guy from before. And then, surprisingly, they find you. There, standing next to him and smiling.

There, she notices, the swell that grows in her throat.

( play Angel by Massive Attack )

It's enormous in size, and it hurts as she watches the both of you. Vi knows you were never interested in men, from your teenage years up until now—but the way you at him, the way he smiles at you, it’s nauseating.

She isn't usually jealous of anyone or anything—so she blames the alcohol coursing through her veins. And selfishly, Vi blames you for looking the way you do, being the way you are.

She takes another swig of her drink, this time downing half of it as she angles her body to get a better look of you. And if she were being honest, she feels like a creep. She had done nothing but unleash a hurt she hadn't known was there from you, leaving you and you alone to mend those fractured pieces.

And now she’s watching you, like some sicko.

So what else could she do but wallow in self pity? If anything, she's less deserving than he is. And that’s saying something, she thinks, bitterly with a scoff as she pulls her lips to take another mouthful.

But she's stopped short. Because now, you don't look the way you were moments prior. Now, as you watches you, you look like a child caught stealing as the man grabs your waist, pulling you closer towards his own body.

She could tell, even from a far, that you felt uncomfortable; it's evident in the furrow of your brows, your pull away from his chest, and so on. Vi doesn't waste much time, she doesn't circle back for her drink, but she instead abandons it. As she gets up, distantly, she hears Louis calling for her but his words mean nothing.

As Vi makes her way through the crowd, she undermines the tedious and irritant eyes that fall on her as she pushes her way through the crowd—only this time, she does this without regard for anyone else. Nearing closer, close enough to hear the conversation, and close enough to meet your pleading eyes, faintly, she hears the man speak, "—saw you with her once. Where are you going, baby? Just relax here with me. I can show you a good time." Her bottom lip twitches, but not at his words. It twitches at the way he handles you without care, brutishly and like a man would. Like she had with her words.

Finally, her hand presses against his shoulder.

It isn't harsh, but it's certainly not soft. She pushes you away and you stumble behind her. Vi wastes no time, she doesn't let him speak as she grabs his collar and pulls him down to her level. In the split of a moment, she pulls her fist back, and punches him in the jaw, for the second time tonight.

The man stumbles back, clutching his jaw in his hands. Everyone around them moves out of the way at his sudden trip. Before he gets the chance to say anything more than a painful heave, she pushes him to the ground, her body hovering over his languid one. Now, she grabs him by the collar again, and punches him. But she doesn't stop there, that would be a generous mercy. Instead she punches over and over again; on the swell of his eye, his nose and his now split lip.

Even when she hears your voice call her name in a frantic repetition, she can't pull herself away.

Not as he cowers, as her blood and his mix together, as he pleads for her to stop—and she imagines your face as she watched you pleaded for him to leave. And so she hits harder, firmer and with an unrelenting purpose as her fist breaks bone. This alone, hurting someone for you, that was comfort enough.

Before she could do anything else, someone pulls her off him; even in her drunken state, she'd like to think it was Louis. But the stranger immediately goes to check on the unconscious man before her, and with that she stands on her own. Her stature is swaying, and if not for the weight you lift her up with, keeping her steady, she was sure she would fall.

Her eyes, as they always had, lift towards the night sky as she speaks, "Go home." She says, rather plainly and she hears you scoff.

"And leave you here, like this? No."

Neither of you say anything to each other as you pass through the crowds, bodies making space for both her and you.

Her eyes find you when the two of you make it past the doors, and within the shining light of the moon, she sees you for what you are. She hadn't seen it, whether not you cried. But your eyes are red, your eyelids are swelling and remnants of your waterline are more than clear.

It makes her heart ache as your eyes fall onto her; first to her hands—ones covered in blood—and then to the bruise below her eye. Her own falls to your lower lip, one that quivers faintly. She pulls her eyes away from you again, instead look at the scuff marks on the foot of her boots.

"You being with me won't do anything for you. I can't do anything for you."

You smile, but it's bitter. It isn't like anything she remembers, and neither is your voice she hears you say, "Just. Please, Vi," she watches as you near closer to her, as you don't shy away. Vi attempts to pull away from you but you don't let her, and without warrant, she watches as you let the tips of your fingers graze over skin of her arm, making that same length of skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Just stay with me. For a little while, and let me help you. It’ll be like old times.”

Like old times.

She finds that your words bring her no comfort—instead, they leave aching, longing feeling within her chest as you guide her through the streets of Zaun, with the night as her witness.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

( play Older by Searows )

HER EYE NEVER LEAVE the way you gently press the cloth filled with alcohol against the cuts on her fingers. Every now and then, she winces at the stinging pain, soberness kissing her cheek as you mutter, sorry's and did that hurt, to which she replies with a hum—no beginning and surely no end. Not really an answer, but she wants you to know, no matter how distantly, that she's still there.

Your home is almost as big as hers; sharp corners, your bed standing silently in the corner though it has a frame, shaking with a will, at that. There are only two doors in your home, one for the entrance, and the other she assumes to be for your bathroom, though she doesn't ask.

Neither of you have spoken full sentences to each in twenty mintues, and she thinks it's better that way. No strings attached to this, no room for you sway with your voice.

But, as though she cursed herself, she hears you speak, "I. . ." You say, your words trailing before you continue, "where have you been? Why didn't you. . . look for me?" Your assumption, one that spills from your mouth so easily, that she hadn't looked for you infuriates her the most—but that frustration isn't for you. Rather, for her poor judgement. Looking for Jinx, for you—were two different things, though they had fallen on the same line. She doesn't blame you for your question, for the quiver of your brow and for the anger she's sure is there. Instead, she blames herself for the next words that fall from her lips, "I looked for you. Couldn't find you, so I gave up."

She doesn't need to look at you to feel your overflowing disappointment. And when she looks to the floorboards, seeing herself faintly within the gleam of it, she finds herself thinking, that's it? After all this, that's all you have to offer her?

Vi feels frustrated boil beneath her tongue, and regretfully, in between her faults—she finds herself making you her victim.

Letting out a huff of exasperation, she speaks, "Look, y/n. Whatever you think you see in me, it isn't there," she says, her eye twitching as you hold her with care, as you press the cloth gently against her skin, "I shouldn't have let you see that. And I'm sorry it happened. Just," she breaths finally, "can we just sit in silence, please?”

Her foot taps rapidly against the floor. It's the only thing there is to listen to. The sounds from distant alleyways bring her no comfort, no solace as she watches you turn her hand over, moving it the you want, and she lets you.

Vi notices, now, that your home reflects you.

It's beautiful inside and out. From your ceilings, down to your dipping floorboards, she tells herself it's all so beautiful, something foreign.

Your walls are a light grey, mimicking white but as she looks over she notices the smoothness of it. There's a shelf in the far corner; it reaches halfway up the wall, there are trinkets, along with books never read on it. Vi recollects it now, she remembers those nights, nights where you wore spare clothes of hers—where the two of you had been close, not close enough to touch, but close enough wherein it felt like another form of intimacy.

And just like then, the two of you share clothes; though it's Vi this time, wearing your shirt that smothers her skin.

You pull the cloth away from her knuckles, letting her go, and placing it into the pool of pink water beside you. Even though you're so close to her, knees nearly touching her own, she misses the softness of you. Charcoal and honeycomb, she thinks those fall between the line of you and her. Again, with her cruel words, you remain soft, so unbearably tender as you speak, "I'm gonna do your eye next," you say, and she watches how you rid the cloth free of water, and dipping it into a bowl full of ice and twisting it again, a little less harshly this time.

"You don't have to." She says.

"You won’t do it for yourself," you say, situating yourself closer to her on your couch, soft cushion with blues and black as it’s coloring, "it should probably heal right, if I do it now anyways."

Instead of it being a plea, you say it as a statement, a subtle command etched between your words. So she lets you.

Vi watches as you hesitantly move your hand closer to her, your hand hovering over her face before it finds home. With the other, you lift your hand to the bruise that rests tender beneath her eye. For a moment, she leans into your touch, for that moment she forgets herself, for now it’s just her and you. Within the sacred walls of your home, on top of the soft cushions of your sofa.

Her words don’t align with her actions. She sees this in the way your eyes widen, ever so slightly. But at this acknowledgment, she settles herself carefully in your hands.

She wants to tell you of this prophecy; one of clovers and lingering touches. Of your warmth that seeps from your gums, from tips of your fingers and onto her skin. It swells, as everything does; but it does so as if it were a tender bruise.

But once it’s all said and done, Vi leaves you, with hushed goodbyes and an ache in her head that attempts to take her for what she is.

Cowardice.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

KNUCKLE VELVET

CHAPTER THREE: Velvet Coil

#vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #i love you vi omg #vi x reader #vi #arcane season 2 act 2 #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane s2 spoilers

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the-morningstar-family · 21 hours ago

Note

Does Willa have a will?

Alastor, Lucifer and Doctor Chaim sit in a room, after he looked over Willa once again. The air is tense, because they know what is coming.

Dr. Chaim: “As you can imagine; I have quite sad news”

The king takes Alastor's hand, who squeezes it.

Lucifer: “We're ready.”

Dr. Chaim: “I am sorry to say that Willa's condition is deteriorating more every day. And while I cannot say with a hundred percent certainty… I do not think that she will live beyond the end of the week.”

Alastor's ears droop, face relaxing with an acceptance of woe, looking sorely disappointed by the universe. While Lucifer looks at the Doctor with pleading wet puppy dog eyes, as if he decided it and isn't just notifying them.

Dr. Chaim: “When Willa had still been able to talk, she asked me to hold on to this, until she is close to death.”

He slides a small paper stack over.

It is a will. Between the official papers that have been filled out there is also text, handwritten by her. The king's small hand hold them with care, despite the shakiness. Alastor has long since buried his head in the blind head, peeking over just enough to read the contents as well.

The Will:

“Dear Friends and Family,

It is a strange feeling to be writing about one's own death. Especially when being aware of how soon that Future will arrive. I am keenly aware of the many Birthdays I will not attend, of the Sinmas celebrations that I won't be part of, how many New Years Eve's will come by without me.

I have been rather fortunate in life, though. I had a wonderful mother, who had been nurturing and loving despite never receiving the same in her childhood. I am lucky enough to have a wonderful son. Bright and curious despite the challenges he has faced since the day he was born. And I am most grateful for the bonds I have been able to make with the residents of the Hazbin Hotel.

Not only have you extended incredible kindness to my son but to me as well. And the second you knew of my condition, you took care of us both. Please allow me to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am afraid there are no words that will ever be enough to articulate these feelings. The ones of love and care despite the difficulties increasing every single day. For every time I fell, and you to pick me up, for every time you wiped my drool, when my body would not let me, I want to express my deepest gratitude. I wish, for all of our sakes, that I could be staying longer. But it won't be possible. And for that my heart aches, and I am so fortunate, to have people who's heart have ached with me, and will continue to do so.

I feel a little selfish asking for more. However, there are a few things I would like to address, before I am unable to.

Again, I am fortunate, that you already treat Felix like your own. I am so very glad to know, that my dearest boy will be safe and sound. What I want to ask you is, to not stop. To treat all of your children to the best of your ability. There is no shame in imperfections, but please, treat them with the care they deserve.

For my funeral I don't have many requests. A small goodbye for all of us is more than enough. I would like to ask you to make sure that everyone can have their goodbyes how they need to have them. Anything beyond that is of little importance.

Thank you, for all you have done. I could not have wished for better company.

And to Felix:

My dear lovely boy. When I first held you, I was completely overwhelmed and so incredibly happy. That is why I named you Felix, because I felt incredibly lucky to have you.

And I am so sorry to leave you. I love you with all my heart. I already miss you, yet you are still in my arms every day.

I wish I could see you grow up. See the person you will become in ten, twenty, thirty years. But I will not even make to next year.

But know, that I love you. And that you are loved, when I am gone. Remember, that to me, you will always be my most wonderful child.

I love you.

Goodbye.”

#ask #send asks #ask blog #ask me anything #hazbin hotel ask blog #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #dr.chaim #willa #mention of terminal illness #terminal illness

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brodygold · 2 days ago

Text

Golden Army: Dragon Heist Part 2

Part 1 here

The Golden Army headed through the city of Waterdeep, looking for Floon, who had been missing since last night. Brody knew time was of the essence for finding missing people. The more time that passed, the fewer clues they could find. Volo (and his monetary reward) was counting on them. He fiddled with his lute as the mid afternoon sun beat down on them.

"Alright bros. Let's split up to cover more ground. Me, Ross, and Daniel will check out The Skewered Dragon and see if anyone saw him leave. Scott, Henry, and Grayden, I want you bros to check the surrounding area for any clues. Any questions?"

"Just one, Brody. Did Volo give you a description of Floon to work with?" Grayden asked, "That seems like something important."

"He sure did, Grayden. Floon is a well dressed man of average height with long red hair. He was wearing a quote 'very ugly pearl necklace with a seashell on it' end quote."

"That's not a lot to go off of, bro" Henry added.

"I know, bro. But we want that reward money so we gotta find the guy. Now let's go! Meet back here in an hour."

And so the party split off, ready to find the missing man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure there's going to be clues here?"

"Of course, bro! There's gonna be clues all over- OH WHAT IS THAT!?" Scott ran over to a nearby store window, putting his head against the glass.

"Scott, now is not the time for window shopping innit. We gotta look for Floon." Henry sighed.

"But look at that big plushie! I want it!"

Grayden sighed and looked down as his two teammates got into yet another argument about wants versus needs. That's when he spotted something glistening on the sidewalk: A rather ugly pearl necklace with a pink seashell attached.

"Interesting..."

Grayden looked back up, an idea forming in his head. "Hey Scott, do you want to take a look around inside?"

"Oh don't tell me you're taking his side in this bro."

"Not at all. I just want to speak to the owner for a second."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Skewered Dragon had definitely seen better days. The front facing windows were completely smashed in and a ship's anchor was lodged in the roof. It was definitely the seedy part of town, that much Brody was sure of.

"Why would a well-off man come drinking someplace like this?" He wondered.

The inside of the tavern didn't look much better. The decor was very much nautical, and the dockworker patrons only added to the setting. Brody and Ross walked up to the bartender while Daniel approached the various patrons to see if anyone else was there last night.

"Hey there bro. We're looking for a man named Floon Blaagmar. Well dressed, long red hair, ugly necklace around his neck. Sound familiar?"

"Can't say me memory's too good right now, especially not for strangers. Maybe some coin would loosen me tongue." The bartender smirked.

Ross pulled out one of his many knives and stuck it in the counter. "Maybe some blood would loosen it too. Wanna find out, mate?"

The bartender visibly gulped. "Fine. Worth a shot anyhow. Guy's a regular here. He drank with two men that night, one after the other. He and the second man left around midnight after some drinks and a round of Three Dragon Ante."

One of the patrons Daniel was talking with interrupted. "Are youse talking about Renaer Neverember? Stuck up noble who loves to rub our faces in it."

"You mean the son of former Open Lord Dagult Neverember? I thought he'd have been in Neverwinter with his father." Daniel howled.

"Well I guess he wanted to stick around," another patron added, "not like it did 'em any good. A group of men followed the two of them out last night. Dunno what happened next but can't have been good. One had a tattoo of a snake on his neck."

A snake tattoo? That could only mean one thing.

"The Zhentarim are involved." Brody whispered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the hour passed, the two groups met back up to discuss what they'd found.

"A group of Zhents followed Floon and his drinking partner out of the tavern. They came in this direction." Brody said as the others approached. He noticed Scott holding a plushie in his hands and cried for their finances.

"They were attacked outside of the Old Xoblob Shop. The owner saw five men attack the two, one of whom had a snake tattoo on his neck. We also found Floon's necklace." Grayden added.

"Wow that is ugly." Daniel commented.

"Apparently the Zhents have a warehouse they use on Candle Lane. Might get some clues if we look there." Brody wondered just what they would find at the warehouse of a rival mercenary group. One with much more influence but a much worse reputation.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go find our guys!" Ross exclaimed, holding his dagger in the air for emphasis.

"Technically we're only looking for Floon."

"I'll bet rescuing a noble will bring us a lot of cash though, bros!" Scott said in excitement, the plushie shaking as he spoke animatedly.

"You got it, bro. To Candle Lane!"

Candle Lane wasn't very far away, and the group arrived at the warehouse in a matter of minutes, a snake imprinted on the door telling the Golden Army they had the right place. Of course, the door was locked.

"I've got this bros. One second." Ross pulled out his trusty tools and got to work, unlocking the door with a few flicks of the wrist.

"Alright bros. We're going to be doing this quietly," Brody whispered, "We sneak in, look for clues, and get out before anyone notices us. Understood?"

"Yes Cap." The others spoke in unison.

"Good. I'll go first." Brody opened the door to the warehouse slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. Inside he spotted a group of four raven-esque creatures, huddled together in the center of the room. All was quiet until the sound of the floor creaking alerted everyone in the room to their presence.

"Oops." Brody whispered.

"INTRUDERS!"

To be continued...

#golden army #thegoldenteam #golden team #dnd #waterdeep dragon heist

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myakkoh · 2 days ago

Text

He finds Mydei on the balcony, crimson eyes glazed over and far away in thought. The sea of fire and lights glow underneath them, faint laughter and shouts and feral hissing throughout the air.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," Phainon says lightly, doesn't hesitate to reach his husband's side, even as metal claws dig into stone and broad shoulders go rigid. Like he didn't expect Phainon to suddenly appear. "Lost in thought?"

Mydei scowls. "I could say the same to you," the man growls, turns, and Phainon is caught in between the brightness in crimson eyes and the rage smouldering in them.

He's beautiful, moonlight catching and tracing the sharp red tattoos on his body. Phainon wonders, for a brief moment, how Mydei would look, if Phainon reached and mapped them out with his fingertips. Surprised, maybe, with a flush of red spreading across sharp cheekbones.

"Well?" Mydei bites out, and Phainon startles out of his thoughts.

"Mingling," Phainon finally says.

Mydei stares at him, gaze a little hard, before he looks down again. The festivities are still ongoing; what for, Phainon doesn't even know. It's been going on since their marriage, and curiosity had crept in his mind, whispering temptations into his ears. He wandered down, changing out his usual clothes and donning a common man's garbs, and interacted with his new citizens.

They were oddly happy, as he chatted with them. Mydei would fit right at home with them, he thinks, and—that's a little more surprising to think about. He would be down there and drinking the best of wines, wrestling in the competitions being held and laughing as he'd win. Mydei would breathe life and share the victories with his people. But yet, Mydei is not down there.

Mydei is on the balcony, staring down at the festivities, and—the look in crimson eyes is familiar. Haunting. It would tear Phainon apart if he'd look into those eyes himself.

"You should go," Phainon suggests, stepping next to him. "It was fun."

His husband scoffs, keeps his gaze down at the lights. "I'm not welcome there."

What a strange thing to say. Don't the people of Castrum Kremnos adore their royal family?

"You won't know if you don't try," Phainon says, doesn't move as Mydei whirls on him, lips peeled back in a snarl.

It's a near thing, though. But—Mydei looks furious, still beautiful under the moonlight, even with the smouldering rage that's always wounded tight. Gorgeous. He wants to press Mydei back and kiss him, just to hear his breath hitch. Phainon swallows.

"I'm not welcome there," Mydei hisses again, metal claws dragging across the stone railing with a screech. "I will never be welcome among them."

An odd phrase.

Phainon doesn't even get the chance to ask why before Mydei slips past him. Crimson eyes are blanking, smouldering in ashes. He wants his husband's eyes to shine brilliantly as they always do. The empty look doesn't suit him. Mydei stops at the doorway, pauses for a moment.

"Don't bring up me going down there again," he says, and disappears into the darkness of the room.

How strange, Phainon thinks again in the lonely company of the moon. How strange that Mydei keeps a chasm between his people and himself, when he is to be the next king. The gears in Phainon's head begin to turn.

(How do you love your people when they do not want to love you in return?)

Another Phaidei Fic I Want to Read

It's the political arranged marriage AU but make it (ooooo) complicated~

Crown Prince Mydeimos of Castrum Kremnos was born under a dark star, with a prophecy of abject despair uttered at the moment of his birth: Mydeimos will be the last king of Kremnos. The city-state will fall, her people will be lost, and the glory of Strife entirely will fade into nameless oblivion. Year after year, the prophets repeat the same warnings: Mydeimos is cursed, and he will bring the downfall of their kingdom and all its inhabitants.

But no one in Kremnos knew just how cursed their prince was until the day the regent's war council convinced their king to do the unthinkable: If Mydeimos was sacrificed, perhaps their prophecy of destruction could be averted and Kremnos saved...

Only Mydei couldn't even die like he was supposed to. No matter how many times he was mortally wounded, the boy just kept standing up--not even Thanatos would take him. That glorious death in battle that all Kremnoan warriors were expected to achieve--even this most central aspect of Mydei's own culture rejected him.

This life of betrayal and total loneliness, with the promise of eventually destroying everything he knew and cared for, seemed inescapable--until one day, when Mydeimos had already passed the age of majority (and would have long since been allowed to challenge his father for the crown if it weren't for the despair prophesied to be his reign), a new vision was shared among all of their people's seers: There was a way to avert their kingdom's dark destiny and save their people. "Only the son of Aedes Elysiae can deliver Castrum Kremnos from the dark tide and restore the true king to her throne."

Aedes Elysiae is a tiny city-state with nowhere near enough military might to defend against a full onslaught from the Kremnoans. But the risk that the Elysian prince could be harmed--and all of Kremnos' future lost in the process--is too high to engage in a traditional war of conquest. Although it runs contrary to the Kremnoans' very natures, if it means securing their kingdom's future and hiding the truth of their foreseen fate forever, they will engage in any manner of subterfuge and political maneuvering necessary.

Namely, by using the threat of war to force Aedes Elysiae to surrender their crown prince to a permanent and binding political alliance. If Aedes Elysiae wants to avoid obliteration by the military might of the Kremnoans, they will tie the destiny of their crown prince to the Strifewalkers' through blood and oath--a marriage to Kremnos' own Prince Mydeimos. In this way, perhaps the curse can finally be outweighed by the glory of a savior.

Enter Phainon: the pride and joy of Aedes Elysiae, the golden sun to his people, loved by everyone who knows him. Although his heart has always been soft and romantic, rebelling fiercely at the idea of marrying someone he's never met and doesn't love, there is nothing Phainon won't do to protect his people and his kingdom--even if it means sacrificing himself.

So Phainon agrees to leave his family and homeland behind, and makes the miserable journey to Castrum Kremnos to meet his destiny... and his new husband.

Too bad Mydei wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

Disgusted by his father's willingness to forsake Kremnos' sacred principles of pride and integrity by using underhanded tactics and falsehoods to force Aedes Elysiae's prince into compliance, Mydei refuses to even acknowledge his marriage to Phainon, let alone look in his fellow prince's direction.

Which wouldn't be a problem, honestly, if it weren't for the fact that poor Phainon is smitten within days.

When the Kremnoans were strong-arming Aedes Elysiae's king into giving up his beloved son, why had no one thought to just tell Phainon that Prince Mydeimos was so... so... upright and honest and brave and powerful and gorgeous and straightforward and humorous and quick-witted and honorable and also gorgeous? (Phainon thinks perhaps this last point should be repeated a few more times for good measure.) Truly, Phainon might have gone willingly if anyone had just thought to show him a portrait of his husband-to-be in advance!

While Phainon struggles to catch his own husband's attention and soften Mydei's seemingly unbreakable stone heart, Mydei struggles with his father's demands to keep his curse hidden, to not reveal the omen of destruction lurking behind this sham of a marriage. Though having to lie shreds every last tatter of pride Mydei has, if this prince of Aedes Elysiae discovers the truth, that he's been brought here solely to counteract Mydei's prophesied inability to reign, Kremnos' enemies will know it within the hour. A single weakness will be all the world needs to turn on the Kremnoans, to bring Mydei's terrible destiny to pass.

And... And if Phainon learns the truth about Mydeimos, about his curse, about how he is an abomination that not even death will accept, about the misery he is destined to bring, about the failures that are sure to come, about how he is hated by his country, his people, his own family--then Mydei will lose the first person who has ever smiled freely at him, ever wanted to walk beside him, ever spoke kind words in his direction...

There is no way Phainon would ever look at him the same again.

There is no way Phainon would stay.

And that would be cruelest fate of all.

(What Mydei and Castrum Kremnos don't know is that Phainon has a secret of his own: He's not royalty by blood in the slightest. He was a penniless orphan who just got lucky enough to be taken in by the castle and end up, through twists in his own destiny, to be raised by the childless rulers of Elysiae from nothing but the kindness of their hearts.

There is no son of Aedes Elysiae to save Castrum Kremnos from its fate--and the dark tide comes for all.

But visions bestowed by the gods must not be doubted. Perhaps the combined efforts of two lonely people--the one who forsook his own land for love and the one who could only be loved by someone from another land--will see the sun of Aedes Elysiae delivered to Kremnos once more...

And put a true and honest king upon her throne at last.)

#my writing #honkai star rail #phaidei #phainon #mydei #i am obsessed with this idea OP #i hope you don't mind me running with it for a bit #it decided to stab a little hole in my brainrot #i would read a fic of this

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randomnameless · 3 months ago

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Why do the FEH devs insist on ignoring Nabatean lore so much?

I recently had a surprisingly cordial discussion on redshit with someone about the "nabateans = colonisers" take, and one of the main points raised was that the game was purposedly foggy around Nabateans/Sothis/their story because it would obviously favor a certain narrative (and thus make another narrative look, uh, not that marketable anymore).

To be honest, we still ended up with a product that had a lead go "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and yet that lead is still marketable enough to have raunchy cipher cards and 5 FEH alts, so I actually wonder if, while pissing on that lore had that purpose, it was ultimately pointless since Supreme Leader can still sell goodies despite her incarnation in FE16.

And not only Supreme Leader - but the entirety of WC where we basically have 70% of the cast crying/complaining about their "mixed blood" or lack of and basically adding their 10 cents to the "this race and its blood is the reason why the world sucks".

I mean, can you imagine Sylvain selling any goodies and alts if Flayn replied to his "wah wah people only are kind to me and want to fuck me because I have Nabatean blood :(" by some uncharacteristic "good for you, I have to hide my ears, had to dye my hair, have to lie about my family because if the truth is found out about my identity, I will be hunted and vivisected like an animal and harvested for parts by people who call my kin abominations - just like what happens in the game where the same people who call my kin "abominations" ally with a classmate who calls me a creature and pretends I am incapable of human feelings based on my race".

FE Fodlan's main selling point is its cast of students, for various reasons, but even if I tried to kid myself, Nopes and FEH made it clears : students are the main selling point.

If you spare more time and attention to the Nabatean plot/lore, the students either grow from "likeable" to "despicable" or worse, you won't gaf about them because yeah sure, Hilda might be upset because people expect things from her due to her crust, but it would feel like a "peanut" compared to Seteth's irrational (granted, it's not so irrational since GW exists) fear that Flayn's newest friends would dissect her if they learnt she was a Nabatean, and being conflicted by finally letting her have human friends and form bonds she crave, or protect her due to the trauma from the genocide of their species.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanuts, I mean, not everyone can have a tragik of loaded backstory!

And yet, given how this verse's DNA is "can you fight against the red emperor who uwus about you", they had to add copious amounts of Earl Grey to their games so there's no clear-cut factions :

The "Your alien blood and its influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command" vs "I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

is turned to :

"Your alien blood Crests and its your church's influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command"

"I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

Sprinkle with the cast's hammering here and there that the "reforms" might be needed - but never develop on what they are - and add a few baseless and groundless takes as a toping (basically everything Claude says about tolerance and the general "isolationism/foreign policy" stuff) and you get FE Fodlan where the Red Emperor's war isn't seen as the catastrophe it is in the other entries from the series!

Now, for FEH...

FWIW, the F!F!Billy's trailer had them try to explain that Sothis was a bit pissed about her slaughtered/massacred children when Nopes never gave any reason about why she was pissed - maybe on Billy's behalf bcs Jerry's dead, but come on, she would indeed deserve the medal of the worst parent in the franchise if that was the case, since Billy can murder her daughter without Sothis taking over ! - but given that they cannot write/go against the source game those characters are from.

They tried a bit, with B!Supreme Leader and Hegemongard's FB, but then it stopped (because she had no "new unit" released since then lol) and I can understand why : Hegemongard came out before the Supreme Emblem, and Hegemongard hates dragons who are seen/perceived as gods by some of their human followers. Come FE17, and now Supreme Emblem accepts Alear because they are "one of the good ones". We can come up with HCs and details and talk about what are emblems or if Hegemongard's views were only hers at the end of AM all day long... But imo, Doylist wise, it still feels it's a retcon because the devs from the main games tried to scrap and remove the most "controversial" traits she had.

For the other characters... Well, you see what Marianne is in FEH (but even in her base games), she's one of the few characters who reacts - in a way - to the partial history about relics and demonic beasts and all... only to give sad uwus to Maurice.

FE16 (and Nopes) refused to have any "student" character react to the Nabatean lore/reveal, about what are relics and all. There are no lines, Claude shared some knowledge in the explore section of VW's last chapter, but we don't have anyone muse or think or even talk about what are relics, what are crests, and what kind of fuckery their ancestors or the ancient humans of Fodlan did.

With that in mind, FEH can't do much : either they write Marianne in a retcon-y way like what happened for Hegemongard (and they're not afraid to piss on characterisation, look at Lyon!), or they flanderise her "character" and develop her around 3 lines she had in the game in her paralogue, and continue to give sad uwus about Momo when he was at best a guy who slaughtered and murdered so much that he abused the Nabatean turned into a relic to the point where he turned in a demonic beast even if he had a matching crest, or at worst, had been part of Nemesis's piñata party in Zanado and was something of a genocider.

Tldr :

Why FE Fodlan never gaf about Nabateans : earl grey + the marketable cast has to stay marketable and you can't sell peanuts at the same price you'd sell swordfish

Why FEH dgaf about Nabatean lore : they can't afford to retcon characters + they have to sell peanut alts with the same seasoning they had in their base game.

For what it's worth though, I think FEH is more daring than the base game(s) given how they gave more lines and screentime to Rhea - through her different alts - than GW. And they even designed her Halloween!alt's lines to piss on some of Claude's assertions, while the various FB involving members of the church also - indirectly - reply to some accusations thrown their way in FE16 when, FE16, never gave them an opportunity or lines to explain that those takes were full of dung.

*"but random, maybe she doesn't know that the crests she often decries is "dragon blood"!"

It's highly debatable, especially given what she and Hubert throw to Billy in CF - but even if she doesn't, Doylist wise we still have a character who, knowingly or not, says "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and who is never called out on her prejudice. That's more of an issue regarding the general writing though, she has to be a red emperor and took pages from Ashnard's book, and yet, the player must still feel bad and want to romance her, so her mindest/goal cannot be looked at too closely, because, I guess, even the devs thought it would be difficult to romance her (thus sell goodies!) if more light was shed on the "blood from this race corrupts our people" schtick -> which in turn would also make characters whose backstory and gimmick rely on "crying about crests" be way less likeable, thus marketable and able to sell goodies.

#anon #replies #heroes salt #fodlan nonsense #they can't develop stuff about nabateans else the people would wonder if this thing existed in FE16/Nôpes #and we all know people siding with the Agarthans would have like #a harder time justifying being allied to the Agarthans even if they don't know everything that transpired between them and the nabs #and yet Pelleas is accused of being a moron for listening to Izuka when he didn't even knew Izuka was the one who #developed the feral subhuman drug and earnt a PHD so #in the end everything's always about money #I'd buy in a heartbeat any Hilda (fe4) figurine #but i guess thes devs/money makers believe that antagonists at least in this franchise don't sell as well as marketable characters #like prime waifus #hell even UO started to print figurines of the main heroines but none as of yet of Alcina #can you imagine if the uwu overprotective dad joke #that is basically the crux of the Flayn'n'Seteth's relationship #was more developed in the lines of Seteth being afraid that Flayn would trust humans too much and reveal the truth about her #in a gesture of friendship and trust! and it would turn against her #I mean isn't it basically why the nabs are pissed at Adrestia??#Rhea trusted Willy about her pointy ears and now Willy's scion wants them out of Fodlan because their ears are pointy #or Flayn really getting along with people but ultimately not being able to trust them fully because she cannot tell them the truth #and maybe her support friends and all either pulling what everyone does with Marianne #or have the issue resolved in a more meaningful way like Nabs finally accepting to trust humans again in a plot relevant cutscene #and Flayn's final supports only being available after that cutscene #but we couldn't have that at all because again #Earl Grey + peanuts #can you imagine Sylvain getting a convo with Flayn post reveal? Where he feels like trash for wahwahing about his crust?#that's not the route the games wanted to walk on #so FEH can't walk it either #I swear this isn't a post asking for a new rhealt lol

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