#but i know i have to stay alive for all of them
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you know, as a trans masc NB, it’s hard to acknowledge so many parts of my past self, solely because of the way people see me. i’m greatful to have developed the self respect to be able to say i miss being a little girl, cause that’s who i was back then, that’s what i was, and it was nice, it was wonderful really. it was simple and easy and i never realized how far away from me it would become. i never hated myself, i never wanted to be someone different, i just wanted to be me without the restrictions brought by the countless labels placed on me.
all of this is to say me too, OP. I miss laying on my belly and playing with barbie’s and listening to Pink, feeling like the og underdog. imagining a beautifully crafted future. one that was perfect for me, i’d have a nice big house, and a puppy, and i’d be a super famous singer, and i’d be happy.
i keep finding myself wondering where that person went, when my capacity for, and my belief in the happiness I had, and hoped for, got capped. when it all became too much to pretend I’d ever find myself awake in that little girls dream.
i know when i realized I’d never be a singer (i heard a recording of my own voice and it was enlightening to say the least), i have an idea of when i realized I’d never have a nice big house (around the 2rd or 3rd time being homeless, sleeping in hotels and shelters) i know when i realized I’d wouldn’t be getting a puppy (when i had no choice but to live with the deadbeat “father” who’d kept promising me one over phone calls and during visits, and he never brought it up once in the whole year i stayed with him)
i know when i realized i wasn’t happy just to be there anymore, to be alive. when i realized how sad I really was. like a switch had been flipped, the person i was before dissolved and the person i would become began to grow. the first time i felt depression, the first time i idealized suicide, the first time i realized i could feel so alone, even when surrounded by people who were supposed to love me.
i didn’t mean for this to get so long, i just… hope, and joy, and dreams, where have they gone? will i ever get them back? to finally stop questioning whether or not the person who previously heald that hope, and that joy, and those dreams, was me, means to wonder why they left me so desolate when i became the person i am today.
i miss being a little girl full of hope and joy that plays alone in her room dreaming about her future
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Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.
You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.
I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?
Anyway.
Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.
Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.
Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.
Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:
"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."
"Okay."
"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"
"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"
"Okay."
Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.
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Discord 18+ - Bluesky
Pairing: Ex-Outlaw Toji Fushiguro x Outlaw Reader
WC: 8.7k
Summary: Shit luck. That's the unfortunate reputation branded to ex-outlaw Toji Fushiguro. That is, until tonight, when a reunion with an "old friend" turns his luck on its head.
Story Warning: Bar Fight, Gambling, Cheating (at gambling lmao), Violence and Blood and Broken Bones, Implied Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex (M. Receiving), Implied Ass play, Misogyny, Protective Toji, Marking, Profanity, Smut obviously, Outlaw pt.1 references, No Y/N usage here
Art by: shesdeny on X
A/N: I had Backroads by Tanner Adell on repeat the entire time I wrote this ON REPEAT. I didn't proofread i'm so tired yall
Word on the prairie is there’s been one hell of a train heist.
It’s the talk of the town right now, and Toji’s soaking up every word of it as he sits at the parlor poker table.
One man places a card down on the table, taking a drag of his cigar. “I heard they cleaned the locomode right out. Not even a silver spoon left at the scene.”
‘Thorough,’ Toji thinks.
Another slides his chips into the center, where the dealer takes them. “Yup, heard that, too. An’ I heard it was a broad that did it.”
This piques Toji’s interest. He slides more chips forward, taps the table to check, letting them know he’s not adding any more money to this pot. Not that he has anymore to offer. He’s really hoping the shit luck he’s been having lately turns tonight.
“A broad?” The cigar smoker asks, thick smoke falling from his lips. “Can’t imagine a woman bein’ able to pull that off.”
At this, Toji snorts under his breath. These men don’t know what a determined and smart woman is capable of. But he does.
Another man laughs hard, tapping his fists on the table. “Thought so, too, but they caught a outlaw at the scene, too.” He tries to catch his breath, chuckling when he describes the scene. Apparently, the poor sucker was picked up from the train car with his hair knotted around the seat bar and his dick out for everyone to see. This makes Toji shake his head, amused, because he has a strong feeling he knows exactly who could have pulled something like that off.
A clean sweep? Leaving the other party humiliated just because they can? Toji’s fairly certain about who the culprit is for this one.
“But they say the outlaw escaped on the way to hoosegow,” notes the man. “Ain’t been able to find him. Probably gonna kill the broad when he finds her.”
Toji shakes his head, the slightest smirk sitting on his lips. That tracks. Leaving the scene with enemies left behind in embarrassing situations? Yeah, he knows exactly who pulled this heist off.
The men go on and on about the heist and the rumors circulating around the town. To everyone else, it all seems impractical. How could some woman possibly have the wits and the courage to be able to face off with one notorious outlaw and come out on top both literally and figuratively?
Toji only knows one woman capable of achieving such a feat — you.
You’re the one who got—
“You in or you out, Fushiguro?” The dealer calls impatiently. “Hurry up.”
Toji checks the spread across the table, what’s laid out to determine if he’s going to stay in the game or not. And as his eyes flit across the cards, he kisses his teeth.
He lost, as usual.
”I’m out,” he grunts, standing from his seat. “Gonna take a piss.”
-
The streets are alive with activity. Brothel girls stand on the porches of their building, batting their lashes and waving their handkerchiefs in an attempt to lure each and every man inside. They call out to Toji, blow him kisses and offer him the “night of his life” while waving their fingers flirtily in his direction. Toji ignores their advances, not in the mood after taking yet another hit to his already dwindling funds.
This streak of bad luck has been following him all his life. Small inconveniences, minor problems that have built up and taken a toll on him over time. It seemed as if being an outlaw was the only thing he was good at, though he wouldn’t call himself one now. He’s not sure why he ever thought hanging up his hat as an outlaw and taking up gambling would change his luck. He’s never won, not once. But he can’t seem to stop himself from putting it all on the line in hopes that he’ll hit big, just one time. So far, no luck.
Toji strolls into the back alley of the parlor, nose wrinkling at the rancid smell of sweat and piss that fills the area. He finds what he thinks might be a cleaner spot than the rest of the alley and pulls his pants to his knees, grabbing hold of himself just before he begins to relieve himself.
The sharp sounds emanating from the piano keys throughout the many saloons can be heard and Toji finds himself tilting his head back and staring up at the night sky, letting a little tune fall from his lips in a whistle. It’s when he’s shaking the remnants of his bathroom break off that he feels the cold press of metal against the back of his head, effectively cutting his whistling short.
Shit.
Just his luck. Of course he’d go out to relieve himself and end up with a damn gun to his skull.
“Ya know what they say ‘bout whistlin’ at night, don’t ya?” A familiar sweet voice sings behind him. “Brings bad luck.”
Toji chuckles, shaking his head - and the extra piss - off. “That’s a cowboy’s belief,” he remarks. He pulls his pants back up, securing them around his waist. “And I ain’t one.”
The stranger hums, the pressure of the gun easing just slightly, but it’s enough for Toji and he takes this moment to spin around swiftly. His large hand catches the weapon in his palm and he yanks forward, pulling its wielder with it. He holds the barrel of the gun against the center of his forehead, a sick grin sitting on his lips.
“Just kill me if you’re gonna do it. But just know…I ain’t got shit for ya to take.” In the dim lighting of the alleyway, Toji can just make out the way this person stares up at him through hooded eyes, teeth digging into their bottom lip as they have this short standoff with him. Then they sigh, unceremoniously lifting their skirt and holstering their weapon between their thighs.
“I see shit ain’t changed since the last time I saw ya, Toji.”
Toji only shrugs, a lopsided grin on his face. “Creature of habit, I guess.”
And there’s that laugh he hasn’t heard in some time. One that he won’t admit he’s missed because it reminds him of a different time in his life. One that he also won’t admit that he’s missed.
Standing before him is the earlier topic of discussion amongst the men inside. You’ve got your hands on your hips, dressed in the pretty little get up you usually wear when you’re up to no good, and Toji knows you’re about to have one hell of a night. And he has a feeling that you’re going to be dragging him into whatever plot you’ve cooked up.
He takes in your appearance, the fancy new gun you tucked away and a very nice hat that probably sells for a hefty price.
Toji motions to your new possessions. “Keepsakes from your last job? Heard it was a damn good ride.”
You lift a hand, running your fingers along the brim of your hat, giggling as you play dumb. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
He knows better than to pry, at least not in the open where just anybody can hear. So instead he tells you, “You look pretty tonight,” and basks in the smile you give him. Soft and genuine, but only for a second before you’ve shifted into the little facade you put on.
“D’ya wanna show me ‘round here?” You ask sweetly, looping your arm through Toji’s and tugging him along.
Toji slips his hands into his pockets. Truth be told, he hasn’t been in this town long, just arrived a couple days ago when he heard there was easy money to make at the parlors. But he hasn’t found that to be true. He was actually planning on heading out soon anyway. “Not much goin’ on in this town ‘round this time of night. Same ol’ gamblin’, drinkin’, fuckin’ and fightin’ that happens in all the others.”
“Hmm,” you nod, peering up at Toji with the false innocence he’s familiar with. “And what about you?” You’ve switched on your proper speech as well, Toji notes, but he doesn’t miss the suggestive tone behind your words when you ask, “Which one are you gettin’ into tonight?”
He wants to tell you that he’ll be in whatever shitshow you start, just how he always is when you two run into each other in whatever middle of nowhere town you end up in. But instead he just smirks as he leans down to your ear where he whispers, “Let's see how the night goes.”
-
You’re careful to make sure there are no watchful eyes when you both emerge from the alley arm in arm. Toji leads you back towards the parlor, not missing the salacious looks you’re getting from the other men and cowboys while he holds onto you. And you, ever the actress, offer a demure smile and nod to each and every one of them that has them melting beneath your gaze.
And it’s a ridiculous thing, really, how Toji also finds himself melting for you. Although it’s for different reasons. You can offer all the innocent and pretty smiles you want. It may fool the average man, but it’s never fooled Toji. You two are cut from the same cloth, and that’s what brought you two together in the first place all those years ago.
You’re a beautiful woman, of course. A perfect face with a perfect body to match, filling that outfit of yours just the way Toji has always liked. But it’s your mind that draws Toji to you. Your ability to easily cook up a scheme that you rarely fail to pull off. The way you can slip on a manipulative mask like the one you’re wearing now and wrap anyone around your finger. How you can lure people into your traps and get anything you want. Any time he’s in your presence, Toji’s convinced that he’s sick in the head, because he can’t fucking get enough of watching you conspire against whatever poor person you’ve deemed your target.
It brings him back to his outlaw days, when he’d met you mid-scheme and almost threw a wrench in your plans. But somehow, it ended with you two teaming up to pull off one hell of a heist. And the aftermath? Well, let's just say you left Toji more than satisfied with the outcome.
When you two enter the parlor, it seems the gambling table has changed as well as the dealer, Toji notices. You both observe the dealer, placing three cards face down on the table. He shows one card - the 4 of diamonds - to the players around the table before setting it down and wildly shuffling them. When he’s finished and all three cards lie in a line on the table, one of the men selects a card, and they all erupt in a string of curses when it’s wrong.
Beside Toji, you scoff. “This’ll be a easy night, looks like.” You glance up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. “Please don’t tell me ya lost all your money gamblin’ on goddamn Three-Card Monte,” you murmur just loud enough for Toji to hear. “All ya gotta do is find the damn card.”
“Can’t lose what I ain’t got,” Toji chuckles. “Come on.”
Of course you’d enjoy this game, he thinks. Three-Card Monte, or Find the Lady. It’s a card game in which the marks, or the players, are tricked into thinking they can find the “money card” among three face-down cards. It seems so simple, but if the dealer is anyone worth his salt, it’s easy to fuck the players over. Make them think they have a chance, so they just keep betting until they’ve got nothing left to lose.
But of course, you’re a step ahead. This dealer thinks he’ll be playing you, when it’s really the other way around.
“Ya ready?” You question. “Let's make it quick.”
Sounds like Toji doesn’t have a choice. Looks like he’s pulling off a heist tonight. His ex-outlaw heart sings.
He approaches the table with you on his arm just as two men free up seats for you when they opt out of playing any further. You take a seat beside Toji, carefully adjusting your skirt, removing your hat and setting it in your lap. The dealer eyes you, he eyes your bosom unabashedly, grinning when you tilt your head and fix him with a curious look.
“Good evening, sir,” you speak softly and Toji watches you work your magic. “What are we playing tonight?”
The dealer chuckles, shuffling his cards in his hands. “We are playin’ Three-Card Monte, pretty darlin’.” He leans forward, the thick and nasty stench of his cigar breath making Toji’s nostrils burn. “I’d explain how to play it to ya, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to keep up with the rules. This fine gentleman here, however,” he turns his attention to Toji. “Would you like to buy in, sir?”
Toji’s gaze cuts to you. If the dealer’s statements bother you, it doesn’t show. Your smile doesn’t falter in the least. “You’re so considerate.” Your voice is soft and sweet, but Toji hears the bitterness behind your words. “I’m so fortunate my darlin’ husband here…” you reach over and caress Toji’s arm, nails dragging along his skin in a way you know will leave goosebumps in their wake. “...He took pity on poor lil’ me and taught me to play. Right, dear?”
You beam up at Toji, all soft and loving, and he wants to laugh to cover up the way his heart races – one, because you’ve referred to him as your husband which he’s embarrassed to admit doesn’t sound too bad. Two, because you involving him in your little game tonight excites him in more ways than one. He hasn’t felt the thrill of pulling off a heist in some time, his luck almost never panning out the way he wants. But now that he’s run into you, he’s sure it’s going to take a turn for him.
“Yep,” he affirms. “And I’ll teach ya whatever else your lil’ heart wants, angel.” Toji grins, enjoying the way your brows rise just barely at the pet name, some emotion he can’t place behind your eyes. He can’t dwell too long because he’s eyeing the dealer, whose gaze is glued to your breasts again. Toji roughly clears his throat, grabbing the man’s attention. “She’ll buy in.”
“If ya say so.” Of course the dealer isn’t going to argue. You’re what he thinks is the easiest mark of his night.
The first game goes exactly how Toji imagined you’d have it play out. The dealer tells you he’ll be generous and do a practice round for you so that you can “wrap your pretty head around the rules”, and you agree. You of course don’t find the card, or so the dealer is made to believe. But you enthusiastically agree to an actual game.
The first real game, you bet low, telling the dealer that you’re just too nervous to bet too much money, and you’re not sure if your dear husband would approve.
“Put down as much as ya like, angel,” Toji pushes eagerly, earning him a quick scowl from you, covered by a sweet giggle.
“Do you want me to lose all of our money, dear?” You ask, the real question hardly concealed beneath your words.
It’s not your money to bet, so shut the fuck up.
Your foot connects with Toji’s leg beneath the table, just to drive the message home. Toji grunts, covering the pain with a clearing of his throat.
The dealer places the cards face down on the table, then picks the one on your left up. He shows it to you – the Queen of Hearts.
Fitting, Toji thinks, what with the way the dealer winks at you before he shuffles the cards around quickly then settles them into position. A cocky smile spreads across the dealer's face. He knows where the card is. And knowing you, you probably do, too.
So Toji sits back and lets you play cards while playing dumb in the dealer's face.
You lose this round, and he can tell it’s on purpose this time, pouting cutely and making the dealer blush a deep red as he shakes his head. “Chin up, darlin’. Why don’t ya place another bet. See if your luck changes.”
“I think I will,” you declare, nodding.
You place the same small bet and let the dealer do his job. When the cards are settled, you tap your index finger on your chin, pretending to think really hard about it. Then, in feigned hesitation, you select a card. Toji watches proudly, relishing the way the dealer’s eyes widen when he lifts the card and turns it in your direction.
“Oh! I won!” You grab hold of Toji’s arm, your mouth slightly agape as you motion for him to look.
“Look at you,” he purrs, taking hold of your hand. He lifts it to his lips, turning it slightly to press a kiss to your wrist, right where your pulse lies, grinning when you inhale sharply. “Knew ya could do it, angel.”
Your teeth press into your lip, a shy look on your face now. Only for a moment, then you’re shaking it off as you turn back to the dealer. “I’d like to bet more, please.”
He deals you in again, a slight look of displeasure on his face when you somehow end up winning once more. And then you win again, and again. The dealer’s fingers drum rhythmically against the table in annoyance, eyeing you suspiciously.
Now, Toji gambles, but he doesn’t gamble the way you do. His days as an outlaw involved doing anything that involved brute force. He was good at that. Need someone manhandled? You pay the right price and he’ll take the job. Got a bounty out on someone’s head? Dangle a bag of money in Toji’s face and he’ll do it. But when he left his outlaw days behind, and fell into a habit of placing bets he couldn’t make good on, he quickly figured out that all the sneaky counting cards and sleight of hand shit was beyond him. He did, however, pick up on a few things.
Like now, when he notices two random men have joined either side of you and Toji to play the game. They’re obviously shills, there to try and assist the dealer in trying to cheat you out of your winnings. The shill beside Toji places his bet, the dealer shuffling the cards quickly to confuse him. He loses, pretending to be upset when the dealer moves onto you.
You place your bet - a large sum, larger than any you’ve put in tonight and Toji’s brows rise.
“You sure about that, sweetheart?”
It’s your money, sure, but you must feel pretty confident in your ability to win if you’re willing to put so much on the line.
You nod, lips curling in a smile while you watch the dealer shuffle. “Yes, dear. I think this will be my best round yet. I just know I’ll have fun with this one!”
There’s something about that sentence that puts Toji on edge. Especially when the other man on your side leans over, engaging you in conversation while the dealer shows you the target card – the King of Diamonds. It’s a ploy to distract you, even Toji knows that. They want you to take your gaze off of the cards so that you can’t keep track of where the target is. But you stay focused even as you entertain the man, nodding along to the conversation as you pay attention to the way the cards are moved around.
It feels like forever before the dealer stops and sets the cards down. He waves his hand over them, waiting for you to pick.
You think hard, seriously this time. Toji watches the way the dealer eyes you, sweat beading along his forehead. Likely from nerves, because you’ve been sweeping the floor with him for the last few rounds and he’s sure he doesn’t want to lose more money. If you lost this large bet, you could walk away clean and go on with your night. Toji doubts it’d put a dent in your pocket. With all the heists you’ve pulled off, especially your most recent, he’s pretty sure you’re set for quite a while.
But your eyes meet the dealers, your hand floating back and forth above the cards before coming down to point to a card and the dealer makes a noise that sounds something like a mixture of a scoff and chuckle. There’s certainty in his expression as his fingers flip the card over, shaking his head.
“Sorry, Miss. Looks like you’ll have to –” he swallows his words when he sees the King of Diamonds sitting beneath his fingertips. “H-how?!”
You bat your lashes innocently. “How what, sir?”
The dealer's hand slams down hard on the table, shaking the winning bets and silencing the parlor. The pianist freezes on the keys, the bartenders stop making their drinks, the guests stop speaking, all heads turning to the table where you and Toji sit. The shills now stand, and Toji’s eyes track their movements. One directly behind you, the other to the side of him.
The dealer grits his teeth, face red with rage as he now screams. “You’re cheatin’!”
You gasp, hand coming to your chest to clutch your imaginary pearls. “I beg your pardon, sir!”
“Oh, shut your fuckin’ mouth! I know you’re cheatin’!”
“I-I’m just playin’ the game, sir.” You turn to Toji, mock concern on your face. “Right, dear? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”
And Toji nods, keeping the ruse going. “Of course, angel.” He sees the anger continue to rise for the dealer the more this drags on, his hands flexing into fists repeatedly. Does he plan to try and hit you? He hopes not, for his own sake. “That’s a serious accusation,” Toji tells the dealer. “You’d better have good proof of my wife cheatin’. You know cheatin’ at cards means hangin’ in the town square.”
“Ya want proof? Look!” The dealer flips all three cards laid out on the table, and there lies the evidence with only one Three of Clovers lying there, and two Kings of Diamonds in the spread. “See?! I knew somethin’ wasn’t right with this broad! Ain’t nobody ever won Three-Card Monte this many times when I’m dealin’ the cards! You’re slippin’ cards onto the table!”
So he’s a cheat, too. Toji should’ve called that. There’s hardly a noble and honest person working in these establishments. Even still, it boils his blood for some reason.
It may be the fact that Toji has lost most of his savings in this very building tonight, or it may be the way this slimeball has been eyeing you up and down all night trying to see how many times, how many ways and probably in how many positions he could take advantage of you, or the fact that he’s now speaking to you like tar stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Regardless, he’s getting pissed.
Toji’s gaze catches yours briefly, and you purse your lips together. He can see the wheels turning, trying to think of an excuse as to how this could happen. Everyone in the building is holding their breath, and more staff have gathered around to see what the commotion is. Toji counts about three more men around you that he believes may be with the dealer. Jaw tight, he waits for your next move.
You giggle, shaking your head as you sit your hat back atop your head, and Toji watches your mask slip off in real time. “Can’t believe this shit,” you sigh. “This damn shill,” you gesture to the man standing behind you. “He’s good.” The dealer sees your change, too, finger jutting out to point straight at you.
“I-I know you! You’re that outlaw bitch! The one that’s wanted all over for cheatin’ at cards, murder, breakin’ out of jail, and–”
“Aww, the train robbery ain’t at the top of the list yet?” You interrupt, leaning back in your seat with a pout. “Feel like that’s my best work.” You grab hold of the dealer’s finger - swift and easy, bending it back roughly, the man screaming out in pain and doubling over onto the table. “Ya got me,” you whisper teasingly in his ear. “Gimme my earnin’s and I’ll just be on my merry way. No need to cause a ruckus.”
“You fuckin’ whore, I’ll-” The man winces, crying out when you bend his finger further.
“I’d think real careful ‘bout your next words if you don’t wanna lose a finger.”
“Okay! O-okay!” The dealer concedes. “Just take it ‘nd get the fuck out of here!”
Toji can’t help but watch in awe…and arousal…witnessing you in your natural element again. You’re wild, impulsive, insane. So much so, you’ve got everyone else in this parlor frozen in shock as you pocket your winnings. They can’t seem to wrap their heads around a woman being so outwardly bold to commit a crime out in the open, and proudly, the way you are. It’s admirable; it reminds Toji of when he was at his best as an outlaw, maybe better.
You glance at Toji, tilting your head towards the money and he snaps out of his reverie and begins to move, pocketing what he can, too.
“Keep whatever ya grab,” you offer, and Toji grins. His adrenaline is pumping, heart pounding behind his ribcage as he grabs all he’s able to. This is a feeling he hasn’t experienced in so long. The feeling of winning. He doesn’t ever want to come down from this high.
When your pockets are full, tied tightly and secured, you finally release the dealer who whimpers as he holds his finger to his chest. He looks about ready to rip your head off, but his eyes dart to Toji who looms over him, daring him to say something and the dealer thinks better of it.
Now all that’s left to do is leave this place quickly and quietly. Maybe grab something to eat and find some place to sleep.
You tip your hat, and just as you turn to leave, the dealer reaches over the table and grabs hold of your dress sleeve. He yanks you forward harshly, dragging you across the table.
“I’ll kill ya, bitch!” He raises his fist and you laugh, covering your face with your arms, anticipating the hit.
You wait for him to make contact, but the hit never comes. You only hear the sickening crack of bone meeting bone, and then you’re falling hard onto the floorboards a second later. Women gasp and race out of the establishment along with some men, but the remaining people step back to take in the scene. Peeking through your arms, you see Toji’s large body standing over the unconscious and bleeding dealer.
You scramble to your feet and dart over to Toji. His eyes are hard, jaw clenched as he stares down at the man. “Toji,” you whisper, shocked yourself at what he’s done.
“He should watch his fuckin’ mouth when he speaks to ya,” he grunts, and you can’t help but erupt into laughter. And you laugh hard, until you’re doubled over and holding your stomach.
You lean against Toji’s arm, grinning as you nudge him. “You soft for me or somethin’?”
The question doesn’t even register to Toji, because in that moment, one of the shills finally finds his courage again, rushing towards you and Toji with a beer bottle in hand. “You son of a bitch!” He shouts, charging at Toji, but you’re quick to grab hold of a chair, using all your strength and swinging the piece of furniture at the man. You miss, but it buys Toji enough time to grab a chair of his own and launch it across the parlor, slamming into the back of another man at the bar.
He spins around, face contorted in rage, barking out, “who the fuck threw that?!”
You point to the shill, who points to Toji, who points to himself.
The stranger looks confused, but still furious. And he rushes towards you all, elbowing his way through the crowd as he barrels forward. He shoves several men around, all of whom are too drunk off their asses to realize what’s going on. They only know it’s getting rough here and they need to defend themselves. It only takes one drunk bastard to throw the first punch, and then it’s all out chaos. Arms are being thrown, furniture is flying, the floors are slippery with the mixture of alcohol and blood.
Toji ducks, avoiding a stray punch aimed at him, only to receive a shove in the back. He spins around, catching a man by his collar and easily tossing him aside and knocking the lights out of another man who lunges at him. It’s complete insanity here, so loud and chaotic and in the midst of it all…he finds himself having a good fucking time. This is fun for him. His fist meets the stomach of one man and his heart soars. A knee to the face of another man and his lips spread in a wide grin. His palm comes down to slam someone’s head against the table, rendering them unconscious and Toji chuckles.
Even with the cacophony of punching and screaming and cursing, Toji can hear your wild laughter floating throughout the space.
You’re going toe to toe with grown men, using whatever weapon you can get your hands on and it’s not even about defending yourself anymore. You’re simply enjoying the frenzy. You don’t care if the sheriffs show up, if they put cuffs on you and throw you in the slammer. You’re used to that. You don’t care if your involvement here means a death sentence. Why would you when you’ve been sentenced to death in multiple towns across the prairie and have managed to escape every attempt to put you down?
Toji admires that about you, admires that you don’t give two shits. You’re only interested in doing what you love and if lying and cheating and violence is what you love, then hell, he loves it, too. So Toji lets himself have fun with you.
He throws another punch, relishing the disgusting sound of a nose bone being crushed beneath his fist.
He erupts with laughter when he wraps one of his large arms around a man’s neck and he squeezes until Toji feels him fall limp to the floor.
He lifts a leg, smirking when his foot connects dead center in the chest of a man wielding a blade and sends him flying across the room.
Then in the chaos, his back connects with yours and you both swing around, ready to take out the next person. But it’s just you. You, and your jagged whiskey bottle that you’ve busted over someone’s head and hold out defensively in front of you. The poor victim of the impact lays unconscious at your feet.
Toji takes these few seconds to drink you in, the way the shy and innocent mask you had on upon entry to the parlor is long gone, leaving behind the wild outlaw he’s come to know over the years. He takes in the way your chest heaves, breasts barely contained within the confines of your corset. How you’re covered in blood and grime that he’s certain isn’t yours.
The violence and commotion behind you makes for quite the backdrop to this image he’s committing to his memory. He’s never seen a woman so beautiful.
Your lips part just slightly and Toji’s eyes dart down to the movement. You drop the liquor bottle, not caring that it knocks against the unconscious man on the floor’s head and shatters next to him. Your feet move, carrying you over to Toji until he’s just within arms reach. You’re giving him that same look you had in the alley just earlier, chewing your lip and looking like you want to eat him alive.
And he’ll let you.
Because the feeling is definitely mutual, evidence of his desire only growing in his pants. He shouldn’t be surprised that this is where the night is heading, as it’s led to this many times. But something about tonight has Toji particularly excited. So, he reaches a hand forward, hooking his fingers in the front of your corset and yanks you forward. You throw your arms around his neck, and your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, full of tongue and teeth and groans. His hands palm your ass, lifting you easily and you wrap your legs around his waist. Toji presses your core against him, at the same time he feels your holstered gun press into his side and it only makes him harder. He moves your body, dragging your center along his hardening length.
“Where’re ya stayin’?” You gasp into the kiss, and Toji steps to the side just in time for a bottle to whizz past your heads.
“Brothel up the street,” Toji groans when you dip your head low to drag your lips along his neck. You break away to stare down at him, only smirking in response.
Yes, this night is headed exactly where he thought it would.
-
Your back hits the wall hard, knocking the wind out of you and sending a painting that hangs on the wall to its demise as it falls to the floor and shatters to pieces. You barely have time to catch your breath after Toji has broken away from your nipples, courtesy of him freeing them from your corset halfway up the stairs to his room.
“Fuck, ya always feel so good,” Toji lets out of a garbled moan, his lips finding your neck as you grip his hair.
“Thinkin’ about me a lot, huh? So, ya are soft for me?” You ask, a giggle falling from your lips, only to be cut off when Toji presses his thick length to your core. “Ah– fuck, Toji,” you cry out. You moan when he sucks hard.
He’ll surely leave a mark, and some part of Toji finds that he likes the idea of you strolling around with the brand he’d left on you on display for all to see. He wants men to see you, see you’ve been marked up by someone else and wonder who you go home to at night. Even if it’s not Toji, at least it was him who made it crystal clear that you laid with someone who wasn’t them the night before.
He loves the idea that he gets to have you, because you choose to let him have you. It’s not a part of some scheme you’ve come up with, you don’t have some ulterior motive. You don’t want anything but to get your fill for the night, and you want to get your fill from him. You want him to have you, and the thought has him grinding his clothed erection against you in a desperate attempt to gain some friction between the two of you.
You tug at Toji’s strands, moaning at the way he ruts against you, how his tongue slides smoothly across your pulse. “Shitttt, don’t hold back,” you gasp, and Toji can’t help but chuckle.
“When have I ever, angel?”
The pet name has you looking at Toji the way you had earlier. A flash of something unfamiliar behind your gaze, gone as quickly as it appeared and your hands crash down on Toji’s chest, shoving him back. He sets you down and you shake your head, wasting no time in falling to your knees without him having to say so. He watches you lift your skirt, unholstering your gun and carelessly tossing it aside. Then you undo his pants, pull the fabric down until his clothing sits in a pool at his ankles.
Your hands wrap around his cock, thick and veiny and pump him slowly. Toji grunts, placing his palms against the wall as he enjoys the view of you kissing the underside of his dick.
“Like that, angel,” he sighs when you run your tongue over the fat vein that runs all the way from his balls to his tip. “Fuuuck…”
Your tongue reaches his head, where a bead of precum sits and you lap it up greedily, grinning when Toji’s legs tremble just slightly. “Like this?” You ask, swirling your tongue around him slowly just before you take his entire length to the base.
Toji hisses, hips bucking forward on instinct. He grits his teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you swallow around him. Your throat squeezes him deliciously and he can’t stop the pathetic groans falling from his lips. You bob around him, hollowing your cheeks as you suck and take all of him with every bob of your head.
When Toji’s cock nudges your throat and you gag around him, Toji hisses. “Yes, yes, stay there,” he grits out. You hum around him, eyes alight with mischief and Toji’s back stiffens. The vibration shoots straight through to his cock and Toji leans his forehead against the wall to keep from losing his balance at the sensation. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
Toji’s mouth parts slightly, a rough groan leaving his lips. You’re toying with him, the way you toy with everyone. You love this shit, love having whoever you set your sights on going crazy over you. You’ve got those cute lips of yours wrapped perfectly around his cock, working him closer to his release and you’re enjoying every second of bringing him to the edge. It doesn’t help when you hold eye contact with Toji while you take him in your mouth, all the way down until your nose is buried in his soft pubic hair while you lift your skirt and slip your hands into your undergarments.
Your brows knit together, moans muffled by Toji’s dick in your throat while you touch yourself. The image is so arousing, your lips stretched around him while your mouth is full. He can’t help but buck forward – once, twice, and then he’s fucking your mouth all on his own.
“Yessss, play with that pretty pussy for me,” Toji groans. He’s fucking your face at a frantic pace, and you’re taking every stroke he gives. “Ah, fuuuuck –” Toji pants, a hand coming down to hold the back of your head. He pushes your head down, forcing your throat open to take his entire swollen length down your throat, occasionally holding you there for a moment, loving the sound of you choking on his dick and your saliva more than any sound he’s ever heard you make. The mixture of your fluids drips messily down your chin, and still, Toji keeps fucking your face until you’re gagging and squeezing around him.
He pulls out, holding the base of his cock tightly. Because he’s watching you - mouth agape as you gasp for you, chin glistening and lips swollen with her hand in your pants. The sight is so sexy, so arousing, he thinks he could paint your face right this second.
You inhale sharply, swallowing as much air as you can. Your fingers tease at your clit, dipping inside your walls just briefly before your breath hitches and you whimper a pathetic challenge. “Don’t tell me you’re done already.”
And Toji grins, easily shoving himself back into your mouth. He’s even rougher with you if possible, and you seem to love it that way, keening around him as your fingers rub tight circles on your clit. He pulls away from you once, brows pulled together as he tries to catch his breath while he makes you take him down to the hilt over and over again. “Fuckin’ hell, angel. Takin’ my dick so good for me. Your throat feels so fuckin’ good. Don’t move–”
Toji scrambles forward, grunting and pressing his length all the way down your throat, so far, so desperate to feel you squeeze around him again that he’s got your head up against the wall. There’s nowhere for you to go as his hips buck forward.
“Fuckin’ take it, swallow my cock, fuck–”
Your hand finds his thigh, squeezing tight while the other works you closer and closer to your release. It feels way too good, better than any woman, any mouth Toji’s ever been in. His balls are tight, slapping loud and wet against your chin as he slams into your face.
He hears you, hears your moans as the rise in pitch, getting higher and higher with every thrust of his hips, every press of your fingers against yourself.
“Gonna cum, angel?”
You whimper in response, unable to nod or speak, while Toji’s got his dick stuffed into your throat.
“Cum for me, then. Make a mess on your fingers while I fuck your mouth,” he grunts, hips snapping forward.
Your eyes roll back, nostrils flaring as you dip your fingers into your core and feel your walls fluttering around them. Your release washes over you with such intensity, your legs begin to shake, tears begin forming at the corners of your eyes, drool falls in thick strings from your lips. And all the while, Toji is still fucking into your mouth.
The sight is one he wants to burn into his memory. You - the woman who just a few hours ago knocked men on their asses, cheated and won and still somehow escaped without punishment - now getting off on getting him off.
He’ll be sure to remember you on your knees for him, bringing yourself to ecstasy while your mouth is stuffed with his cock, tits bouncing with every thrust and –
Oh, he’s gonna cum.
Toji tells you as much, then moves to pull out, but you press your hands to the backs of his thighs and pull him back into your mouth, staring up at him as if begging for his cum.
And when you look at him like that, how could he ever say no?
He presses forward, mouth falling open with a loud and guttural moan as he finally reaches his peak. Toji’s body tenses, cock stiffening and thighs trembling as he twitches in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him deeper if that’s even possible, and Toji’s moans only grow in volume. His cum shoots from his swollen tip, straight into your throat and you gag on the sheer amount of it.
“Fuckin’ swallow,” Toji growls, watching the way you struggle to handle all he’s giving you. “Don’t waste a fuckin’ drop. Swallow it for me, angel.”
And you do as you’re told, gulping down every thick rope of cum that paints your esophagus. When you finally release your hold on Toji, his cock softening between your lips, you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering while you wipe away the remnants of you and Toji’s deed.
“Almost killed me,” you jokingly complain, voice rough from the abuse your throat just took.
Toji chuckles, stepping back and taking your hands to help you stand. “Guess we’re even, then. I mean, ya almost got me killed tonight.”
You giggle and shake your head, pressing your palm to his chest, pushing Toji backwards until his knees hit the end of the bed and he falls back with a loud oof. You lift your skirt, climbing atop Toji and straddling his hips, and Toji would be lying if he said he wasn’t hard all over again.
“Hope ya ain’t got all that gettin’ even feelin’ out just yet, because I can think of plenty of times ya almost got me killed.” You lean forward, a hand on each side of Toji’s head and his hands find your breasts, still free from your corset. He cups both soft mounds, idly running his thumbs over your nipples and drinking in the expression you make when you moan without your mouth being stuffed full.
Toji grins, eyes honed in on the way your breasts feel in his hands. “Like the horse stealin’. That rancher almost blew your top off.”
Your lips spread with a smirk. “Well, if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ loud when we were in the barn, he would’ve never woke up!”
Toji scoffs, “Well, ya snuck a finger in my ass! I ain’t ever had that happen! How the hell was I supposed to know it’d feel like that?!”
You both burst into a fit of laughter, reminiscing on all the crazy shit you two have gotten into over the years. You make Toji miss his outlaw days, almost make him want to go back to it. But that life’s not for him anymore. Though, it is fun to dabble in it from time to time, only with you.
Your lips find Toji’s, tender and sweet. Until - like all things you do - it’s not. It quickly turns heated, your hands dipping into Toji’s dark tresses while your lips lock in a searing kiss. You both make quick work of ridding each other of any clothing, hands roaming each other’s bodies once you’re bare.
It’s a fight for dominance in this bed. Who can kiss harder, who can leave more marks, who can pull the most moans from the other? The bed rocks with every movement, the headboard banging against the wall as Toji flips you over, pinning you to the bed with his body weight.
You hum, your hand ghosting across Toji’s muscular ass. “This looks familiar.” You take a finger along the seam of his behind and Toji inhales sharply. “Ah…by that ya meant…it felt good. Should I do it again?”
Toji’s head dips down, the tip of his nose touching yours as he breathes, “let's see where the night goes.” He slips inside of you, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths.
You move together, losing yourself in the passion of the night, disregarding the way the bed shakes.
And the way the photos and paintings fall from the walls.
And the way the headboard beats dents into the paint.
And the way the head mistress bangs on the door.
And -
-
The morning sun blazes high in the sky, shining through the thin curtains of Toji’s room. He stretches his noticeably sore body, yawning as he lets himself slowly wake up.
What a night - and morning. He knows he needs to hightail it out of town soon to keep from being identified as your accomplice at the parlor last night. He can’t sit around dawdling all day.
Toji sits up in his bed, already knowing it’s pointless to glance at the other side and wonder where you went. Of course, true to form, you’d made a smooth and quick exit. You’re probably long gone by now, wreaking havoc in another town. He tries not to take it personally that you likely didn’t even bother to say goodbye.
He slides off the bed, wincing when he feels a sharp sting of pain in his foot. He lifts his leg, pieces of wood falling to the floor where remnants of what appears to be a broken side table lie. His eyes scan the room, and the absolute mess all over. It looks like a damn tornado ripped through here.
Chairs thrown aside, a shattered mirror and pieces of glass all across the floor, broken art all over. He doesn’t remember you two being that rough with each other last night.
His stomach grumbles angrily, not allowing him to dwell on the mess he’s already planning on leaving behind. He searches his room for his discarded clothes, slipping on the items before he finds his bag. He’ll make a quick exit and slip out, hop on his horse and get the hell out of this town.
Toji’s not sure what he was expecting when he went to find his belongings. Maybe that you’d have taken them with you, just because it would have made you laugh to know you had your way with him then took all he owns. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find the fancy cowboy hat you wore last night sitting beside his bag, or to find a pouch of silver in his bag with a note inside. Toji unrolls the piece of paper, green eyes skimming the words.
“for the luck you keep sayin’ you ain’t got. hope that changes”
He shakes his head, a goofy smile on his face as he counts the money left for him. And it’s enough for him to get by for a while, enough for him to enjoy a bit of gambling, too.
Toji will have to thank you the next time he sees you. If you survive that long. But he doesn’t doubt that you will.
He slings his bag over his shoulder, exiting his room. He’s sure to close the door, hiding the horrendous disorder he’s leaving behind. Toji’s feet carry him down the stairs to the main floor of the brothel where it’s already bustling inside, people sitting down to enjoy breakfast. He’d have a seat, too, but he can’t risk sticking around in case someone recognizes him from the parlor. Or sees that damn room. As hungry as he is, he needs to go.
Toji maneuvers around those who stand around the room, idly chatting with each other. He’s about halfway across the room when someone calls out to him - a man’s voice. He could keep walking, ignore the man, but that would only make him look suspicious. It’s important for him to not draw attention. So Toji stops, spinning on his heel and coming face to face with the man calling out to him.
“Pardon me, sir. I’ve asked everybody in here, but no one knows a thing,” he explains as he approaches. He stops in his tracks, gaze locked on the top of Toji’s head. “Nice hat…” The man points towards the new item Toji wears.
“Thanks.”
The man stares for a few more seconds before he inhales sharply and continues. “I got word of a bar fight here last night…started by a woman.” The man reaches into his pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper and unfolding it. He holds the paper out to Toji, who just glares at it.
It’s you. Your face on a WANTED poster, beaming happily in your mugshot with the largest bounty he’s ever seen on your head.
Toji eyes the younger man - long, black hair, violet eyes and strangely stretched ears. He wonders why he’s asking about you. To collect the bounty? No, he doesn’t look the type.
“What about her?” Toji asks.
The man runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “I’m lookin’ for her. Ran into her once and…” He sighs again, like it pains him to think about his run in with you. And Toji is sure it does. That’s typically how you leave men (and women) in your wake. Spiraling and chasing any trail you may leave behind. “I just need to find her.”
Toji adjusts the weight of his bag on his shoulder. “Ain’t seen her in my life,” he answers simply. He doesn’t wait for a response from the man. He turns, making his way out of the brothel before the stranger has a chance to follow.
The man stands there, unblinking as he watches Toji’s form retreat from the brothel. His violet eyes narrow, the rage he feels bubbling in his chest. He could act now, because he’s fairly certain that what he feels is correct.
Whatever happened last night, it involved you.
Whoever that scar lipped man is, he knows you.
He has his hat, the one you stole from him the last time he’d seen you.
But acting on his hunch would only bring unwanted attention. So he takes a deep breath, exhaling any anger he feels. After all, he’s positive that he’s one step closer to finding you again.
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So, this. I was homeschooled, and I will say. I did meet people who had legitimate reasons that homeschooling was better for them. Many had been in public school and were severely bullied, most due to disabilities. I myself was bullied relentlessly and my mom cites that as her reason for pulling me and my siblings out of school. (She was also enamored with the idea of downsizing into a trailer and traveling the country. Yes, with a newborn baby, two audhd kids, a dog, and her crumbling marriage) Here's how that went:
The thing is, I didn't stop being bullied when I was pulled out, I just didn't have any escape from the bullying happening in my home. I went from having a small group of friends and acquaintances and teachers to talk with to only my abusive mother, absent father, struggling little brother, and the baby I was raising in place of my mom. (She slept in the same bed as me for the first 6 years, I fed, bathed, changed, and entertained her)
Occasionally, we would fall in with homeschooling co-ops, but inevitably, drama would happen, and I learned not to get attached. I don't think I could name one single person I met during that time period if you held a gun to my head. The whole traveling the country thing didn't work out, and we went from having a house to camping or renting in small spaces. I was 12 when I started homeschooling, and I stayed at a 5th grade education level for the most part until I was 16. My mom soon stopped having any interest or ability to teach me, so I mostly just read and fucked around all day. It was boring and frustrating, I didn't have consistent access to the internet, and I fought with my family all the time.
My state doesn't require homeschoolers to submit a report card or have the children see a counselor once a year, or really anything. In 2015, my mom gave up on educating me and put me in a dual enrollment program at a community college for high schoolers, and that was what got me finally to something approaching my peers on an education level. It also finally put me in contact with adults who cared about me and wanted me to succeed, professors who checked on my progress and listened to my concerns. A library with an internet connection and nobody watching what books I was reading.
That school saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.
In 2017, a fellow homeschooler in my state was not so lucky. Matthew Tirado was a 17 year old nonverbal autistic kid who was enrolled in public school. His parents were repeatedly reported for child abuse, especially by his sister, until they took his sister out of school completely. Two months later, Matthew died. His sister didn't have any way of contacting outside help anymore, and her brother died because their parents knew that nobody could speak up for him any more.
I remember everyone else's horror, and outrage, and I remember my mom. The woman who had abused me when she knew I had nobody to go. She was scared. Because she still had my younger siblings, and she did not want to face consequences. So many homeschooling parents in my state did the same, and they fought hard to defend their right to abuse their kids. And they won.
To this day, in my state 36% of parents who pulled their child from public school in order to homeschool them did so *after* a Department of Child and Family Services (DCF) investigation revealed that they were abusing their children. That's more than one fourth. Once a child is pulled out of school in my state, there are no requirements accommodations, no therapy, no supports, and no accountability. Homeschool parents willfully practice 'unschooling' or buy curriculums from shady organizations that purport to provide an education that will turn their children into whatever parents want them to be.
Public schools aren't great. We all know this. Neither are private schools, in a different, equally fucked way. But homeschooling with no checks or balances, nobody even making sure the kids are still alive after they're out of the system? It's a level of nightmare I dearly wish nobody had to experience. And I got off so lightly.
Anyway enough lame gifted kid discourse we are in our 20s. Let's talk about how homeschooling in america should be fucking illegal it's insane lol
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dissecting the emmrich romance argument scene (all routes)
dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the alternate romance path emmrich x rook cinematic
Emmrich Romance - Argument Scene (Lich Path)
i love and hate this scene so let's get into it -
keep in mind that even though emmrich is now a lich, his fear of death is still very much alive. emmrich immediately expresses his feelings to rook stating that he hopes that they can stay back abit in the battle. for fear that they will be hurt, or killed.
the second 'No' escapes Rook's lips, Emmrich bows his head with sadness. He wishes that she would heed his words because he is afraid to lose her.
Rook's response infers that she is offended by the request to have her 'stay back aways' during the battle, keeping in mind that this battle is rook's and she has been fighting it this whole time. yet, rook still shows that she cares for emmrich, by asking what brought this on.
emmrich states that he can see the life course through us, but is aware that he will lose us to time. in this one sentence emmrich is telling us that he is afraid of rook dying, he is deathly afraid to lose rook, and thats not even overselling it. Emmrich is afraid he will miss Rook forever and will never get over it.
which quite frankly, he wouldn't.
Divergence - Option 1
Rook responds with 'Oh, Emmrich' - Rook is calm and considerate in this response, knowing his fears are real to him.
even as I am (a lich) the mind (rationality) is a victim of the heart (love for rook, fear of them dying). even as emmrich is a lich, his fear of death is rampart, now mostly transferred to rook. emmrich is calm when spaeaking, but fear can be heard in his voice.
im no fan of this line, but it's what im working with so - it feels, double barrelled. on one hand telling emmrich he is not great at keeping stuff in because he is emotional and has panic attacks, and in the same sentence telling the big softy to not mourn the love of his life forever.
this line is delivered with some condescension, and honestly, valid, as the previous line feels on par with Divergence Path 2, invalidating emmrichs fears/feeling for rook. in saying that, emmrich is trying to plead with rook to be careful.
valid all around - rook wake up and smell that the man loves you immensely please
he can, and will be, because he is in love with you
facts - once again, hello darkness my old friend, its fear of death calling
ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch
Divergence - Option 2
You ever been mid panic attack and someone cracks a joke? that is exactly emmrichs response and mindset going forward. now watch the anxiety and panic escalate
rook once again, missing the beat, emmrich escalates by reiterating that he is afraid to mourn rook forever. his voice is shaking. this man is breaking his own heart by imaging the death of his beloved. reiterating my point in earlier posts that emmrich, whilst experiencing relationships and love before, hasnt experienced rook and the connection they share. im reiterating my soulmate trope here - and as we continue
i cant defend rook on this point anymore, 3 strikes ur out
defeat slicks off of emmrichs voice as he speaks this line, inferring 'does rook not love me?' 'does she not feel this'
bottom line is rook is in love with emmrich, just as much as he is with her. rook is however pre-occupied with survivng and getting through the battle, whereas emmrich in this moment in knuckled down in black and white thinking - which has been unfortunately backed up by rooks lil jokes. his anger is valid, just as -
Rooks concern with no realsing that Emmrich is having a menty b, is also valid.
both have their defensives up now. rook for upsetting emmrich, and initially being upset at the notion of 'stay back aways in battle' and emmrich for being scared out of his skull that rook will not exist anymore and he has to spend enternity mourning her, also feeling rejected.
Divergence - Option 3
oh jesus -
on god im trying to be non-biased for this but cmon. the man has a gutteral fear of death, he became a lich he was so scared, you were there rook.
valid king
possible, but rook, sweetie, you're being invalidating.
I was gonna make a comment but then -
insert office stare meme
so here - emmrich is clearly tired of trying to explain himself to rook, and rook backfires with just wanting emmrich to be happy, and calling him an idiot. imo, this route is a straight up argument, whilst both path 1 and 2 have some depth to it. I believe it was done this was because when you choose the mortal path for emmrich, it focuses around supporting emmrich to be happy 'in the now', whereas in the lich path, there is no now for emmrich, it is forever, it will always be forever. I believe this path is to show the frustration between rook and emmrich, one being mortal and immortal, whereas the other two paths have a focus of acceptance. whilst not there yet, its apparent.
All routes lead to -
rook has now said something to akin of a personal insult to emmrich, which then leads rook to 'snapping out of it' as their face changes to disbelief 'oh my did I just say that' aka regret, with Emmrich bowing his head and saying "Rook, I..." in response. Rook states that they should pack as they have to leave soon.
if biowares goal was to have me fear for mine and emmrichs life in the upcoming mission, they succeeded.
All routes leave emmrich feeling scared and confused as he looks to the gorund, holding his hands together -
and rook mumbling under their breath, with confusing and 'ugh, i just wanna shake him and kiss him energy' - rook recognises that emmrich is afraid, and their faults in the conversation.
all in all, this is a touch scene, because it is evident how scared they both are and just want the other to survive so they can be safely back home together. the lich version is more centered around death and mourning as they have alreayd broached the l word, where in the mortal version, you can essentially call emmrich a coward. a very heart breaking scene, which adds numerous layers of depth to emmrich and rook as characters who have flaws but are still loved.
imo, i stand tall that emmrich and rook are in love with eachother and it becomes more evident in the next scene. they have this soulmate type of love, the kind where you would hang off the side of a cliff, hanging on by the strength of your index finger if it meant you could save them. the type of love where one look speaks a thousand words. the type of love that a lich lord would go rogue trying to bring their dead love back.
to add on to the soulmate lover trope this snippet from the Flame Eternal short story feat. Emmrich & Johanna where they are burying a deceased lover with another.
"Johanna snorted. “All that fury, ending in another grave.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Emmrich ran a hand along the coffin’s snowy marble. “It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection. Besides, you did see this through.”
Emmrich YEARNS for love. YEARNS. He has yearned for the type of love him and Rook have for over 20 years, at least. THE MAN IS RUNNING HIS FINGER ALONG A COFFIN AND ROMANTICING IT. Romanticising possibly, loving someone so much that he is buried with them (quote flashback to Hezenkoss in the final boss battle of "Ill make sure to bury you and your new lover together", now has more depth) or loving someone so much that love would be eternal together, that type of love where you want to be buried together. for over 20 years he has yearned for this love, and he has found it in the middle of the end of the world. please note that emmrich has a fear of abandonement as well like, huge. oh and add in the comment made by Harding in game about Rook and Emmrich moving too fast, please there is only one trope that goes from 0-100 real fucking fast.
considering dragon age veilguard is centered around the theme of regret, it is no suprise that saying things you regret have showed up in this game, particularly before the eve of battle and impending doom.
ill have the romance scene dissection soon for you hungry necromancer lovers - ill likely do the mortal versions as well
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#datv#datv spoilers#emmrich#emmrich romance#dragon age emmrich#emmrich volkarin#dav#da4#da4 emmrich#maeve ingellvar#rook ingellvar#rook#dragon age the veilguard#mourn watch#gif set#do not re use#rpg#veilguard#veilguard spoilers#dav spoilers#emmrook#emmrich x rook#emmrich dragon age
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Enemies (Part Five) (Rafe Cameron)
Description: Based off Episode 10!
Word Count: 2,004
Author’s note: Whenever season 5 comes out is when I’ll continue this.
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Y/N sat with her friends around the fire as they had hope that they would turn up to shore. Though Y/N wasn’t so sure. She saw the waves take them, How could they survive? She had been crying for so long that her eyes hurt and she needed sleep. She got up from the pogues and made her way to Rafe who sat by himself. He looked over at her as she came over.
She gave him a small smile they both knew was fake. He opened his arms and she collapsed in them. She groaned against his shirt as she was already falling asleep. He kissed her forehead as she drifted off.
When she woke it was daylight and the others were awake. Rafe was still holding her and he looked down at her eyes as she opened them. “You stink.” Was the first thing she said and he gave her a sarcastic laugh, “Like you don’t?” He asked. She definitely did.
They all did. She laid in his arms for a few more minutes before walking over to the others. “They have to be around here, there’s no way.” But Y/N didn’t believe that. She accepted in her mind that she lost 2 friends. JJ and Sarah. JJ was a troublemaker and very reckless but she loved him. He was always after trouble and sure that was annoying but he was the best.
Sarah was smart and so beautiful. She accepted people and not based on what they were. Kook or Pogue. She was awesome and her best friend. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about them. John B saw two people and he got the group's attention. Everyone gasped as they saw two people who from a distance looked like Sarah and JJ. “I’ll go check.” “I’ll come with.” Y/N said and they walked to see.
John B’s eyes lit up when he saw them and Y/N let out a sigh of relief. Sarah ran up to hug him and JJ gave Y/N a hug. “I thought you were dead.” She whispered. “I’m immortal.” He joked. They switched and Y/N hugged Sarah.
Rafe looked happy to see that she was alive. They all sat around the fire well sorta. Rafe was on the same side but facing the other way as the others talked. Y/N was holding his arm as they laughed.
“You know what would be a good baby name?” JJ asked. Y/N looked at Rafe confused. “JJ what?” She asked. Sarah was pregnant. “Sarah, you’re pregnant?” Y/N jumped up from the ground. Sarah nodded and Y/N ran over to hug her. “Congratulations!” She said.
Getting separated from the others was not ideal but she wasn’t about to let Rafe get arrested. For once he didn’t do anything. “Are you okay?” She asked, grabbing his hand. He nodded and started walking the other way of where the pogues went.
“We are finding Groff.” He told her. “What about them?” She asked. “We’ll see them.” Though she was nervous that wouldn’t be the case. Groff wasn’t easy to find but she thought she would find herself stepping on the top of buildings and houses in a foreign country for anyone. Rafe and her had on “disguises” which were just fancy coats.
She felt rich with it thanks to Rafe. Y/N gasps as she sees the dude that was trying to kill her and her friends. She and Rafe had behind a sheet for a second until Rafe threw a punch at the guy. Groff notices him and Y/N could tell that he was nervous. He truly had no idea who he messed with. Y/N couldn’t help but feel super hot seeing Rafe beat the piss out the guy. “Let’s go.” He calls her and takes Groff.
“You’re lying to me.” Rafe yells at him as he confronts him about the money. Y/N just watches and wishes she had some popcorn. Groff kept looking over at her. “Who’s this?” Groff asked and Rafe scuffed. He ignored the question and kept yelling at him.
Groff didn’t have the money. Though that wasn’t the surprising part. The surprising part was that Sophia (Rafe’s cousin) set him up. Sophia was staying at his place while he was gone and when he and Y/N came back he planned to buy her her own house.
That was no longer on the table and Rafe was pissed. Groff was being very cocky for someone who was about to fall. Literally in a well. Rafe was laughing like a maniac. Y/N leaned over the well and even chuckled herself. “You messed with the wrong guy.” She yelled to Groff. “You tell him baby.” Rafe laughed.
“Let’s get out of here.” He says as Groff is yelling his name. He had the map to the crown now and all they had to do was get it the pogues or at least that’s what Y/N thought was going to happen. “What are we doing?” She asked as Rafe opened the map. “We are finding the treasure.” He tells her. She glares at him, “Rafe, we have to get this map to my friends. You didn’t care about the treasure.” She points out.
He chuckles and looks at her, “yeah well my money is gone sweetheart. You are your friends can get a part of the money.” She wanted to take the map and run but realized what kind of man Rafe was and knew that wasn’t a good idea. “Rafe.” She warned. “I need you to help me read the map.” He tells her, ignoring her obvious anger towards him.
“Promise me that you aren’t going to take it and run.” She growls. He looks at her, “I promise you that you and your friends will get your part.” He says. She looks at him. Though they’ve had fun together these past few days, she’s well aware of what he is capable of. “If you’re lying to me and you take the money and run, you can kiss my ass goodbye and I’ll make sure to hunt you down.” He thinks he just fell in love with her.
They walked through the sand holding hands as she wore the pendant. He holds the map as the walks to the location. “Rafe.” She said and they look over to see a sand storm starting. “Holy fuck.” “We gotta move fast.” They didn’t get a chance to as they ended up being held at gunpoint. Y/N felt her stomach turn as she realized that there wasn’t a way out of this. They were fucked.
“That’s my brother and my best friend.” Sarah said and took the shot. Y/N screamed and Rafe took her hand and ran. The others followed. Rafe was about to shut the door before they all screamed at him to wait. Y/N laughed as she saw her friends. “You’re okay.” She breathed out and hugged Sarah. “Thank you for saving us.” She said. Rafe refused to give the map over.
“Rafe.” Y/N sternly said his name. “You’re gonna betray me just like everyone else in my life has.” He said to Sarah. Y/N saw him tear up. “Rafe no we won’t.” Y/N tried but he stepped away from her. Her jaw dropped. “Rafe…” “Dad would want us to work together.” Sarah said to him. Rafe always thought that Sarah got him killed but she finally told him. “It’s true Rafe. I was there.” Y/N told him, she had tears in her eyes. Sarah did as well.
“Rafe, I'm not going to betray you. Sarah isn’t either.” She walked up to him and cupped his face. “Rafe, I love you. You can trust me. I promise. And you trust Sarah too.” Rafe looked at her with tears streaming down his face. Sarah hugged him and he looked down lost in thought.
The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. “This is nice but we have to go.” Kie said. Rafe gives John B the map and Y/N takes the pendant and helps them. Rafe wasn’t any help other than complaining. “Heaven.” John B said as the other three paced trying to think. “John B hold up the map to the sky.” It was like they shared the idea. He did and she gasped. “Guys look.” He said and they all stared at the map. “What is that?” Rafe asked.
It was like luck was in their hands and they were near the crown. Y/N gasped. The crown was somewhere in the sand statue. They all ran as the same storm got worse. “You guys go back.” Kie said to John B and Sarah. Y/N watched as they ran away. Rafe pulled her along.
The storm was bad. JJ decided he would be the one to get the crown. Y/N gasped as the other people trying to get the crown started shooting at JJ. “I’ll go stop them.” Rafe said. “No.” Y/N grabbed him. “I can’t lose you.” “You won’t. I’ll be back. I love you.” He tells her. “Rafe, they will kill you.” Kie says. “I’m a killer too.” He said and ran off. Y/N was so nervous watching JJ and thinking about Rafe. Her and Kie yelling at JJ to hurry up.
JJ was screaming and yelling about the crown and hoped down to the girls. “Look.” He said and showed them. Kie and Y/N looked at each other and gasped. They had it.
Y/N ran ahead of them to find Rafe. She yelled his name in hopes that he would hear and that he wasn’t hurt or dead. “Y/N.” He yelled back and she turned and gasped. He was okay! “You’re okay!” She said and he picked her up and kissed her. She smiled against his lips. Tears in her eyes. “I told you I would be.” He said. “I love you so much Rafe Cameron.” She said and nudged his nose with hers.
He set her down and kissed her again. “I need to ask you something.” He said and she nodded. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone and I haven’t been through half the shit we just went through with anyone.” She smiled at his words. He sank to one knee and her smile dropped as her jaw did. “I know this is crazy but so was everything we just went through so I need to know.” He pulled out a ring. Y/N felt tears in her eyes. “It’s my mothers ring.” He states. “Will you marry me?” She let out a sob and nodded.
“Yes.” She said and slid the ring on her finger. He stood up and kissed her. “I love you too Y/N Y/L/N.” He said. “We have to find the others.” She said and the ran in the way she came. Y/N felt so happy about everything. They got the crown and she was engaged to Rafe Cameron. The man she thought she would never fall for. Life was good.
She saw everyone crouched around something. Shoulders shaking. They walked over and she gasped. JJ. “No.” She said and got on the ground next to him. He wasn’t breathing. Tears streaming down her eyes and sobs racked through her body. Rafe fell to the ground to hold her. JJ Maybank, one of her best friends, was dead.
Y/N watched as Rafe buried him. She couldn’t believe it. Everything was great for like 5 minutes. The crown was gone and so was JJ. Everyone sat around the fire, tears in their eyes as Rafe paced. “If that was my best friend, I would be out for blood.” Rafe said. “JJ wouldn’t sit here and sulk. He’d want to kill Groff.” Y/N said.
Sarah and Kie agreed. Rafe came and sat next to Y/N. He looked over at her and saw that look in her eyes. He knew it all too well. He, himself, has had that look in his eyes. It was the look of blood, the need and urge to kill. “Revenge.” Kie said. “For JJ.” Y/N growled.
#rafe outer banks#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx season 4#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#jj maybank#sarah cameron#john b routledge#pope heyward#cleo obx
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly
Previous - FINAL PART - Bonus
"Let me see"
You mentioned while laughing, sitting in front of the man who looked at you affectionately as you touched his face and observed him attentively.
"Your eye looks a bit red... Have you been using the drops the doctor recommended?"
Curly: "Maybe... I forgot them... today"
His voice was still somewhat strange to hear, it had the essence of what his voice once was, but much rougher and it was difficult for him to say long sentences, he had to pause between words to be able to say them.
You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, seeing the scars on his face.
At first, it wasn't the same skin you knew; you were surprised at how his body returned to that familiar skin, changing its texture, gradually becoming the skin you love to touch.
You noticed the ring hanging from his neck, with the lack of hands, he wore his ring that way to keep it close.
He had to convince you to give him back his ring, but at that moment you were in crisis because you had told him that the day you took it off, you would leave him. Although you reached an agreement to annul that promise.
Five years had already passed since you returned to Earth, and too many things had happened.
On your side, you started following your dream when you were little, and today you have your own bakery.
But it was hard work getting here, because the first thing you worried about was your husband's well-being, who spent half a year resting in the hospital, and then you had to take care of him with attention at home.
Pony Express decided to give you a percentage of your salary and a bonus for the damages they suffered, so with that money, they performed the man's first surgeries.
A skin graft, hair, and facial reconstruction, among others, over the next two years.
He used prosthetics that helped him walk and pick things up on his own, although just in case, you still had his wheelchair as a backup, which he refuses to use again, and when you're not watching, he tries to get rid of it, but you've locked the room where it is.
You even adopted two dogs, the first was Jupiter, a Labrador, a service dog who helps Curly when you're not around, and he's also a very good companion.
And after insisting for so long that Jupiter needed a little sibbling, you adopted Sunset, a dog you had found outside your bakery begging for food, a golden retriever who had escaped from her home, where it seemed they only used her to have puppies and sell them because she was purebred.
Both animals got along well right away, both quite calm, they don't cause any problems.
On the other hand, you stayed in touch with the rest of the crew.
Anya was able to get into medical school a few months after returning, and she is currently in her final year to receive her diploma.
Swansea retired and stayed at home with his family and children, being welcomed by his wife and the little girl she had had a few months ago.
Daisuke tried again with the art school, giving his all and with the support of his parents, he was able to get in. He even has a blog where he talks about the experiences he had in his life to motivate other young people to follow what they love.
Jimmy on the other hand... The last thing you heard about him was that his sentence was extended further for causing conflicts during his time in prison.
As for the little baby... you found out she was adopted by a good family, and that was all you needed to know about her.
Curly: "They're already... about to arrive"
He alerted when he heard Sunset start barking upon hearing a car park nearby.
He got out of bed and went outside to open the door and let his friends into the yard.
There was something that became a tradition among you, every year you celebrated the anniversary of the day you returned alive to Earth after such an experience, having a meal at your home.
Daisuke: "Who is the cutest girl! Let me pet you, fluffball!"
The boy, every time he went, was determined to make Sunset his friend, but she always ended up hiding where he couldn't reach her.
Anya: "Today is a wonderful day... And the food smells really good, every year they surpass the previous year's food, it's incredible."
Swansea: "Not bad, huh! Did you make this grill by yourself, Curly? The meat looks incredible."
Daisuke: "Where is (Yn)?? I want to greet her!"
He had managed to catch the dog, who was resigned in his arms while Jupiter was barking at Daisuke, knowing how upset Sunset was.
Curly: "She has... a surprise for... all of you."
He said, smiling, waiting for you to come out in the summer dress he had bought for you, quite loose and comfortable, perfect for your growing belly.
Everyone was surprised to see you, Daisuke was left speechless, dropping Sunset.
Daisuke: "But! You said-!"
"Well, not naturally—but... I was given the opportunity to do it in vitro and it was a success! I was afraid it wouldn't work because of my eggs, but... after several failed attempts... we finally got very lucky."
You caressed your belly, smiling.
Swansea: "Look at that... Congratulations, kid!"
Anya: "That's wonderful! Oh my God, how many weeks are you now? Do you already know their gender? Why didn't you tell us anything?"
She approached to touch your belly, happy that you have achieved what you wanted so much.
"I'm already in my 29th week... And we already know it's a boy! We were deciding on a name!"
Daisuke: "I have a really cool one!"
"I'm not going to call him Daisuke."
The boy let out a disappointed "aaaw" that you weren't going to consider his name for your son.
Curly: "We thought... of Charles"
"That I'm still not at all in agreement with that name."
You pointed at him, making him laugh and roll his eye.
Anya: "You still have time! When is your due date? I would like to be with you when it happens."
Daisuke: "Can I be there too? Maybe the second time I won't faint, hehe."
Swansea: "I wish you the best, boys are not difficult to entertain, they are difficult to keep alive, they love danger even after reaching adulthood."
You felt very excited about all the support you were receiving, happy to have met such wonderful people.
You didn't regret at all for having done everything possible to get them out of that situation.
The gathering continued with everyone eating and talking about the things they had been doing lately, catching up on their activities, until dessert time arrived, everyone's favorite moment.
Curly: "The best sweets... are from my wife..."
Swansea: "You don't even like sweets!"
Curly couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw everyone enthusiastically eating the ice cream cake you had made for that hot day, while he had his own special portion that you prepared for him so he could eat without too much sweetness.
You couldn't resist feeding him, and even though he wanted to seem annoyed, he adored the attention you gave him.
"Oops~ I'm sorry~ I stained your cheek"
You said with a smile to kiss his cheek, you started smearing hkd face with the dessert and left kisses on all those spots.
Swansea: "Get a room!"
Daisuke: "...Did you ever do it on the ship while working?"
"DAISUKE!"
You shouted with your cheeks red at such a true thing that had been said.
Curly: "...Two or three times..."
Swansea: "That's nothing, you managed to control themselves quite well."
Curly: "....During the week"
"Can I send it back into space?"
You didn't know how to hide your face in response to his declaration, you were extremely embarrassed.
But you had no escape, from the day you said yes, that man was going to stay with you until the end of his days.
And you knew well that he is going to be an incredible father soon as well.
In the end, everyone was able to have their well-deserved fate.
#mouthwash#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#captain curly#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly#do it for them mouthwashing
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HERE IS WHY VIKTOR WALKED AWAY FROM JAYCE AFTER HE SAVED HIM AND WHY WE DIDN'T GET A DRAWN OUT DIVORCE!
(spoilers. Duh.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
short answer: It's because Viktor's dead.
Long answer:
So Arcane is all about people changing right? The first season was rife with the idea that if you want to become who you're meant to be you have to kill off your old self. (I'm paraphrasing here, and poorly, just REMEBER jinx's arc throughout the first SZN ok, powder had to die for jinx to live.)
In the show so far, we know arcane takes the idea of this change and charcter "death" very seriously. Ergo in that opening scene of s2e1 when Jayce sees Viktor crushed under the rubble and barely breathing Viktor is, for all the show's intents and purposes, dead.
This is where you may be shouting, NO BUT JAYCE RESSURECTED HIM! and listen I agree with you, Jayce physically resurrected Viktor, yes, but what came out of that cocoon is not Viktor. Lemme explain.
Arcane doesn't do ressurection, period, the show is about dying and changing, nobody stays the same, and if you die you come back different, unrecognizable even. (Jinx, Silco, Vander as Warwick) Singed is the only character who tries to keep things the same, preserve them, and those thing he has preserved have either been changed spectacularly anyway (jinx, Warwick/Vander) or they are Inert (Rio).
So when Jayce lays Viktor down on the lab table and he's all rekt, he is dead, like even if he's breathing Viktor is functionally dead, with no magical or medical intervention he will die/has died. (I have a bone to pick here a bit with the fact that Jayce didn't take him to a hospital. Maybe it was because of the glowy appendages but I doubt it. Which leads me to assume that Viktor's injuries were beyond medical treatment meaning, once again, that he's basically dead. )
Ergo when Jayce explicitly goes against Viktor's wishes to destroy the hexcore and instead fuses it into Viktor. What comes out of that cocoon isn't Viktor anymore.
Viktor says it himself when he walks out of the cocoon he asks " what am I?" And he says something like " I died/I should be dead." While it's subtle I think we, the audience, are meant to take this very LITTERALLY.
Even while Jayce is exclaiming that he" is alive" Viktor is very sure that he isn't, that he's dead and changed. (Hella bummed he didn't get a pretty arc for this change but I guess theyre counting S1 as his arc? Anyway)
There is very important moment I want to draw your attention to here, when Jayce embraces Viktor, in joy, and Viktor slowly returns the embrace one armed and leans into Jayce, he doesn't close his eyes. (I know this sounds crazy bare with me) What I'm positing here is that this is the first inkling that Viktor is gone because he doesn't accept what Jayce is telling/giving him.
Essentially in that reunion scene, imma call it a reunion, Jayce is giving Viktor everything he wanted, their dream, their partnership, Jayce's love and attention. (don't argue with me on this Viktor is s1 wanted both even it was unsaid) And Viktor refuses all of it, he doesn't accept Jayce's affection, he doesn't close his eyes when they embrace! closing his eyes, sinking into that hug would have been acceptance, it would have been the moment that Viktor, actual Viktor, had been waiting for. (and boy had he been waiting).
But what walked/crawled/clawed their way out of that cocoon isn't Viktor. Instead it's Viktor's body and whatever impression of Viktor, or maybe parts of his soul, he gave up/lost to the Hexcore.
I think the hexcore has, very litterally, become Viktor, like Jayce basically sacrificed Viktor's body to give the thing life and now it's wearing Viktor's face and has these remnants of his memories. I believe this because it also has Skye's voice!
The hexcore didn't have a voice before, it was like a weird murmuring hum, and Viktor couldn't understand it. But now whatever parts are left of Viktor and Skye have amalgamated into the hexcore and their good intentions/idealism are functioning to guide this newly born hexcore/machine herald. (That would explain why it leaves Jayce, it has the memories of Viktor's love but not the actual emotion, it would explain why it returns to the undercity, because it has memories of that place as "home" from both Vik and Skye, and it would also explain why the MH will eventually wear a mask, because it's not Viktor, it just has his face.)
So it makes sense when the machine herald leaves Jayce after that confession and offer, because it's not Viktor anymore. Viktor is dead and Jayce failed to save him.
Anyway, hope that cleared it up for you, of course THIS IS JUST A THEORY! AN ARCANE THEORY (I couldn't help myself)
A/N, this explanation isnt meant to, like, invalidate any complaints that the Divorce arc was too rushed/fast/thrown aside. Because in a lot of ways I think it was!
This also isn't to say that this explanation I give above is the perferred way to tell Viktor's story! Because I don't think it was! In many ways by killing Viktor and making him like, the human conduit for the hexcore, they have taken away 99% of Viktor's autonomy as a character. His choices are no longer his own, his actions are tainted by this corrupting force, he (if he is even alive) no longer is himself. This victimizes Viktor in a way I don't love but also draws away from his very valid and real pain and anger.
In the machine herald lore in LoL we have these ideas of transhumanism, self reinvention, and at its core, a guy who, pushed to his limits, turned his back on Pilotover and let his own hubris lead him to committing atrocious acts.
In LoL, Viktor becomes a monster, he chooses to be the machine herald, he meticulously replaces/removes parts of himself so he can become closer and closer to what he views as the " perfect machine". His glorious evolution surrounds this idea, that humanity is inherently weak and that the only way to overcome that weakness is to surrender to the machine, to evolve.
Arcane Viktor is not getting this Arc, whatever way they try to twist the magic they gave him he's not going to get this level of revenge or autonomy, he just isn't. His purpose is likely not going to be anywhere near as strong because like I said up top Viktor's a dead man. And he isn't getting to make choices anymore.
I'll end this post here before it gets unbearably long but feel free to pop off in the reblogs, tags, and comments lads!
Love Arcane too bits and can't wait for Act 2! JAYVIK NATION RISE!
#arcane#arcane spoilers#jayvik#machine herald#jayce talis#viktor arcane#league of legends#arcane season 2#the defender of tommorow
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request for a logan x reader where logan comforts the reader after they come home from a mission all bloodied up? i see a lot of reader comforting logan fics but im curious to see how itd be the other way round :)
me? responding to a request like three weeks later? it's more likely than you think. also sorry it's so short. originally it turned into smut but i didn't know if you'd want that given the request was for hurt/comfort. (if you guys want i can publish the alternate smut version of this fic too).
solace
summary: you come home from a mission gone wrong and logan helps you through it.
warnings: death (offscreen), blood, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, reader has hair, pet names (logan canonically calls his love interests "darlin'" and this is me pushing that agenda), english is not my first language so please do not be rude
word count: 1004
you’re splattered in blood and grime, grey ash streaking your skin from the fire created by a little boy lashing out at the world. he had set his own house on fire, his parents dying in the most brutal of ways, burned alive.
“oh princess, c’mere,” logan pulls you into his arms. you’re in too much shock to argue, letting him manoeuvre you like a doll.
you don’t like going on missions, don’t like hurting people. you’re only ever sent on the easy ones, the non-violent ones, where you try to convince mutant kids to join the school. you’re good at talking to children, at getting them to admit their fears to you, at soothing their worries. but even the easy missions don’t always go well.
charles could sense that this particular child was powerful, and far worse than that, he was angry. he’d lashed out when he’d seen you, screamed in anger when his parents expressed a desire for him to go to xavier’s school, to learn to control himself before he came back home again. his parents were frightened too, scared of what might happen if things continued the way they were.
they’d all died in the explosion of his power.
he was so scared. he never meant to hurt anyone, you could see it in his eyes when the fire continued to burn despite him letting go. it was out of control, no longer a part of him that he could control like an extra limb, but something with a mind of its own.
it reminds you of yourself when you’d first discovered your abilities, scared and alienated from the rest of the world, from the non-mutants around you. you see yourself in every kid you save, and in every kid you lose.
you stay in logan’s arms for a long while, the only sound in the room his steady breathing contrasting with your ragged, choked out sobs. his chest rises steadily against yours, a rhythm that you try to imitate but you can’t, and with every failed inhale you feel your frustration grow, your panic increase.
he picks you up easily, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, clutching onto him so as not to fall. he would never drop you, you know that, but it’s always a slight surprise when you’re not expecting him to lift you from the ground.
he leads you to the bathroom where he helps you strip out of your clothes, so gentle with your shaking form. his hands trace each new sliver of skin revealed to him, keeping a firm pressure on you always, grounding you, reminding you of where you are. not in a burning house watching a child’s corpse go pitch black from the flames, but in the house that logan bought the two of you, not too far from the school but enough to give the two of you privacy.
in the shower, the blood rinses off your skin, pink rivulets swirling down the drain. yet you can still feel it, thick and sticky and warm. you want to scrub at your skin until its red and blistering, until you have to grow a new layer of skin, a fresh one that hasn’t been touched by death.
logan doesn’t let you. he catches your hand and whispers, “let me take care of you, darlin’.”
you lean into his bare chest and he massages shampoo into the roots of your hair, over your scalp until it foams, and then rinses it away. he runs your conditioner - the one he always claims is too expensive and why would you spend so much on hair products - through your hair, tugging gently at the strands when he notices you disappearing into your mind.
afterwards he pats you dry, and kisses every inch of your skin, reverent, on his knees before you. and then he rises to his feet and finally presses his lips to yours, soft and intimate, not rushed or heated, just reassurance that he’s here, he’s got you, and he’s not going anywhere.
“do you want to talk about it?” he asks eventually.
you shake your head, “he was just a kid.”
“i know,” logan says, rubbing his large, rough hands over your arms, up and down, “but it’s not your fault, you know that. you can’t control what other people do. d’you blame storm for what happened?”
“no!” you exclaim, eyes wide at the implication that one of your best friends could have caused the boys death.
“but she was on the mission with you,” logan comments, and you shake your head, “if you don’t blame her, you can’t blame yourself. neither of you knew, you couldn’t’ve stopped it.”
“maybe,” you say. you don’t really believe it, but logan knows it’ll take you time to get back to your usual happy self, and he’s fine with staying by your side, whispering praise and reassurance until you start to believe him again.
afterwards, he puts on your favourite movie. he spends the whole time making fun of the characters and their decisions, grumbling about how movies will base their entire plot progression on actions no real, rational person would ever do, until you giggle wetly and slap him in the arm, telling him to shut up and let you watch the film.
you lean back into the circle of his arms and he holds you tight, occasionally wiping stray tears that run down your cheeks. there’s less tension in your muscles now, but you’re not quite relaxed, so he shuffles the two of you around until he can massage your shoulders and back.
you moan at the feeling, sinking into the sensation of his large hands working at the knots, until you’re putty for him. you feel warm and fuzzy by the time his hands start to stray down, massaging your thighs.
“feelin’ better?” he asks as the end credits roll, pressing a kiss to your hair.
“yeah,” you sigh, “thank you for taking care of me.”
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett x fem reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine x fem reader#wolverine x fem!reader#james logan howlett#wolverine logan howlett#logan howlett headcanons#logan howlett drabble#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine headcanons#wolverine drabble#wolverine oneshot#logan howlett fluff#wolverine fluff#logan howlett angst#wolverine angst#the wolverine#x men origins wolverine#x men 2000#deadpool and wolverine
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I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.
I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.
Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.
I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.
I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.
Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.
I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.
My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.
I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?
No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!
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Rating Reactions to Seeing Shinigami for the First Time
A comprehensive (and probably biased) list :-)
~~~
Chapter 1 - Light
Falls on the floor and screams, then recomposes himself and very unconvincingly pretends he expected this. This is the first we get to see of Light's Perfectly Normal And Chill Guy persona and I have to say it's not a strong introduction to his acting skills. He gets points for entertainment value though, and also for managing to scream without attracting the attention of his family???
Rating: 8/10
~~~
Chapter 7 - Kiichiro Osoreda
This is the guy who performs the bus-jacking that forces Raye to show his ID. It's a very entertaining scene, but he's being controlled and his reaction is therefore inauthentic, which makes it difficult to give him an accurate rating.
Rating: 0/10
~~~
Chapter 26 - L
This one doesn't technically count because L is merely hearing about Shinigami rather than seeing one, but it's too good not to include. He silently falls off his chair while actively solving a murder case in which the main cause of death has been heart attacks. Naturally the entire task force panics and thinks he's dying, and he does nothing to assuage these concerns. Absolutely iconic of him. Also makes for brilliant foreshadowing.
Rating: 10/10
~~~
Chapter 46 - Misa
We don't get to see Misa's very first reaction to meeting Rem, but we DO see their reunion during the Yotsuba arc, and she is horrified. She screams just like Light and L did, and her fear persists as long as Rem's hand is covering her mouth. She reacts pretty much how I would expect the average person to.
Rating: 5/10
~~~
Chapter 53 - Soichiro
Another pretty standard reaction. Falls backwards, screams and immediately reaches for his gun. Nothing remarkable about it.
Rating: 3/10
~~~
Chapter 53 - Aizawa
Exact same reaction as Soichiro, but he gets extra points because this panel of them both panting on the floor is utterly delightful. The eyes?? The pose???? They look like a pair of petrified crabs. I'm obsessed.
Rating: 8/10
~~~
Chapter 53 - L (again)
L has heard that Shinigami exist and already knows that there's a "monster" attached to the notebook, so he's not surprised at all by the time he actually sees Rem. Instead, he starts having such an intense and paralysing epiphany that he doesn't even notice Light taking the Death Note from him. The least dramatic reaction so far but incredibly on-brand for him in every way.
Rating: 6/10
~~~
Chapter 70 - Rod Ross
Freaks out once he actually sees Sidoh, but he's incredibly relaxed about the notebook flying beforehand. His line "I wouldn't be surprised if it's alive" is hilariously ironic given that the notebook does turn out to have a living component to it, and this does, in fact, surprise him.
Rating: 7/10
~~~
Chapter 70 - Kal Snydar
One of my favourite reactions purely for the implication that Rod might have recruited an 8-foot-tall man in a monster costume. Perfectly reasonable assumption to make.
Rating: 9/10
~~~
Chapter 70 - Mello
Much like L, everyone around him is panicking, but he stays impressively nonchalant. Immediately starts plotting ways to manipulate the demon creature for his own gain. This is essentially L's reaction if he was 90% more unhinged.
Rating: 10/10
~~~
Chapter 101 - Near
Only character to look genuinely happy about seeing the Shinigami which is an instant 10 for me. He gets an extra point for having the most precious smile ever <3
Rating: 11/10
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Psst... Queer American fam...
A lot of us are in survival mode right now, and who knows how long that is going to last. An onslaught could begin the first day, or it could be relatively quiet until a storm breaks, so our background stress/anxiety levels are going to be high, and some of the effects of excess circulating cortisol include anxiety, depression, trouble sleeping, headaches, digestive problems, and problems with memory and focus.
It’s normal to be struggling right now.
It means you’re human.
I know this sounds bad, but I’m restating a thing I think many people already know, because the thing is, a common tactic of the Right is to put people in a stressful situation and then blame them for their response to it (I’ve seen this referred to in other contexts as “reactive trauma”). As queer folks and people being targeted, we might think we are immune to this, but it works more insidiously than that. It can tear us apart, and it plays out like the following:
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As violence towards our community escalates, they will start publically pointing at things “we are doing” that are “causing” the escalation.
They will use this term “we”, because they don’t understand that we are not homogeneous.
Sometimes we ourselves, as individuals, will not be part of that “we”.
It will be terrifying, in that moment, to have rights stripped away (or worse) without having any perceived control, and that lack of control will feel like it is due to the actions of another being blamed on you.
DON’T FALL FOR IT THOUGH!
This is misdirection. They do not have to hurt us, even if we are loudly gay, even if we protest the ways they are hurting us already.
Please, please don’t let yourself get to a safe place and wonder why others aren’t hiding. You are allowed to keep yourself safe. In fact, I encourage it, but please remember that those of us fighting this thing publicly are not the enemy. We need your support and solidarity.
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We are a big family with many different survival strategies:
We don't all have to utilize the same one
We don't have to stick with our original choice over time
We are not bound to only using one at a time
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I’m going to end this with a list of some survival strategies found in nature, because I'm definitely rambling and this was the thought I actually started typing this post with:
Do you recognize any of your own strategies in the list below?
Do you recognize any that are the opposite?
Can you hold that we are all in this together coping in our own ways, that we are not each others’ enemies?
Can you remember that "health" is a social construct, and that a strategy doesn't have to be the "best" one for it to be functional for the time being to keep someone alive?
I hope you can, because we will need each other to get through the coming years.
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STRATEGIES:
Becoming a spore (more info) - Shutting down completely for a bit - Sleeping more - Building mental walls
Playing dead (more info) - Retreating from social life - Retreating from social media - Missing work
Camouflage (more info) - Going back in the closet - Codeswitching - Becoming extremely quiet
Mimicry of a more dangerous creature (more info) - Being argumentative/loud - Being assertive - Presenting even more queerly
Nocturnality (more info) - Nocturnality - Avoiding people - Staying in a social bubble
Distraction (more info) - Drag - Hacking - Certain forms of protest
Pursuit-Deterrent Signals (more info) - Making oneself needed - Feigning compliance - Presenting in “stealth” mode
Mobbing (more info) - Protests - Taking down websites - Coworker solidarity to create workspace change
Staying in the middle of a group (more info) - Being in community support networks - Going to therapy - Getting to know your neighbors
Sounding an alarm (more info) - Being loud on social media - Being loud in the workplace - Naming the quiet parts out loud
#queer#lgbtqia#election 2024#nature#rant post#neurodivergent#trauma#resilience#personal rant#lgbtq community#trans community#coping#mental health
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Any destiel amnesia au fic recs to soothe my gentle heart, I read one au called two worlds apart and as much fun it was I'm also heartbroken 😭 and I want to fix it with another amnesia au where they are both are very much alive in the end, also maybe with a dash of fluff and tension?
Here are a few recs with fluff and a happy ending!
Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise by stuffy_j (Explicit, 54k words)
Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process. But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.
Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 39k words)
When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…
Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)
When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.
Paper Moon by robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k words)
By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true. It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.
The Same Mistake, Again by zaphodsgirl (Mature, 43k words)
One night, after watching Dean pick up yet another girl while they're out at a bar, Cas heads to the local diner. Over the years his feelings of attraction have only deepened into something more, and he wishes desperately to go back to the time before he was in love with his best friend. His wish is granted in an unexpected way: he wakes up in the hospital the next morning with broken limbs - an arm and a leg- and a fractured memory with the last four years missing.
The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)
Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.
The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (Explicit, 54k words)
Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.
Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart by thefandomsinhalor (Mature, 68k words)
When a reporter asks Dean, a homeless man with a mysterious past, why he exclusively keeps close to the billboards and posters of a specific male model—the one Dean likes to refer to as the angel with spectacular blue eyes—in a moment of weakness, thinking it won’t change anything about his situation, Dean tells him the truth: it’s how he finds comfort and solace. Something that is difficult to come by. That is until the story reaches the ears of Castiel Novak, the model in question.
Whiskey & November by dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 188k words)
There is a place in L.A. where the richest of the rich can make their dreams come true. For an outrageous sum, they can hire an “angel” who is programmed to be exactly what they need: a stripper, a scientist, a temporary boyfriend. Most people don’t choose to question who the angels are, or where they came from. Sam Winchester is not most people. His brother Dean went missing in L.A. two years ago, and Sam has spent all that time trying to track him down. The trail leads him to a shadowy organization known as “Heaven” that coerces people into giving up their identities and personalities so they can be reprogrammed for Heaven’s purposes. Inside Heaven, trouble is brewing: two of the angels, Whiskey and November, are beginning to break through their programming. As they fall for each other and fight to remember who they are, they discover that they have an ally already working to bring down Heaven from within.
Not really amnesia, but they think they have it:
Found Family by Dizzybunny (Explicit, 55k words)
When Alpha Captain Castiel Novak returns to the US after being rescued from three years of captivity, he is amazed to find a family he doesn’t remember living in his house. Not just any family - his omega husband and pups. Dean had been told Castiel was MIA, and probably dead. Living in Castiel’s old house, raising his own and Castiel’s pups as a single father had been difficult, but he managed. Now Castiel is back. Can he fit into the life Dean has made? Can Dean adjust to having an alpha? Does Castiel want a husband he can’t remember?
White Lies & Winter Blues by PaperAnn (Explicit, 37k words)
When Castiel drives by a car wreck, he should’ve heeded the warning, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ He’s a nurse, it’s a record-breaking, cruel winter, and upon seeing the driver hypothermic and near-death—his instincts kick in. Cas doesn't think, he jumps into action to save the omega. Once the ambulance arrives, Castiel joins the ride. Then in the hospital room, he keeps a watchful eye over the omega's treatment and care. All under the guise of being ‘his alpha.’ Castiel’s plan was innocent, wishing for a quick recovery, followed by quicker exit. Except, he misses his shot. The omega awakes and the nurse beats Cas to the punch, with the declaration, “You’re lucky your mate found you in time!” causing all hell to break loose. There are no questions. A starry-eyed and love-struck Dean Winchester automatically believes the accident caused amnesia, that Cas is his mate. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now entangled in his own lies—still reeling from the unexpected discovery they’re true mates—Cas feels helpless. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do! Besides...playing along. Paving his road to hell, one good intention at a time.
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you producing first so quickly has me inspired to start writing again
That’s awesome! Writing is an escape for me. It can feel like work sometimes, but these are just for fun and I missed writing things that didn’t need to be perfect or meticulously planned out
My Favorite Accident Pt 3
TFP Knockout x Reader
• Slowly following at a distance, he can’t understand why you wouldn’t just let him permanently take care of the problem, namely that other human who’d dared lay hands on you. And because that man’s still alive, he’s had to tail you to make sure you get home safely. While he doubts the man will go anywhere near you after a run in with him, it still bothers him. That uncertainty that something might happen to you if he’s not there as he keeps remembering the fear in your eyes. Realizing that you’re not as tough as you act. No one gets to frighten you like that, except maybe him.
• Pulling into the apartment complex, you press your head back against the headrest. Your nerves finally catching up to you during the drive, leaving your hands faintly trembling at what might have happened. At what likely would have happened if not for Knockout. And maybe he’s right and you should have let him take care of Ricky, but siccing your big, alien racing buddy on that idiot didn’t exactly sit well with you. And there’s that baffling, snarling protectiveness of Knockout’s to figure out, too. He’d been furious, more than ready to stomp the guy just for touching you. Like having your own giant, psychotically violent bodyguard.
• This is where you live? Headlights dimmed, his engine snarls. While he doesn’t claim to know much about human dwellings, this building looks like it’s seen better days. Actually, it looks like burning it down would be doing you a favor. Especially when he sees the other residents lingering outside watching you. Absolutely not. Shifting on his tires, he watches you park and get out, lifting a hand in greeting to the group hanging out. But also reaching back to where you keep that pitiful little knife. That unconscious gesture rubbing him the wrong way and driving home that this place isn’t safe for you and you know it.
• A few more race wins and you’ll have enough for a down payment on a better apartment. Letting yourself inside, there’s time to shower and change, then you’re falling into bed. Too aware that your little extra rendezvous with Knockout have cut your sleep time to five hours, then it’s up for your day job. Every penny you can get going toward getting out of here. Because what would that be like? To not be scared all the time, shuddering as the guys hanging out in the front start yelling at each other and you pull a pillow over your head. Eventually someone calls the cops on them as another unit gets off third shift and cranks rock and roll to rattle your windows.
• He knows he’s been gone too long from the Nemesis, that he’s going to be missed, but hates leaving you here in this pit forsaken cesspool you apparently call home. It bothers him enough he stays the night, watching the drama unfolding right outside your door and getting angrier and angrier, because this is unacceptable. And he’s going to have to do something about it.
Previous
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I want you to stay alive, so that in 10, 20, maybe if we're lucky 30 years from now, when all of this is a bad dream and the world has somehow clawed back democracy from the jaws of defeat, you can tell the next generation what their parents, uncles, and even their grandparents did.
When your sons and daughters, nieces and nephews come home from school and talk about all the terrible things Trump did for the world, I want you to be there at family dinner to say, "did you know your parents/uncles/aunts voted for Trump?" I want you to see the look of shock and horror on their faces, I want you to see your conservative relatives try to justify what they did. I want them to yell later in private, "I thought we buried the hatchet! You said everything was fine now!" and I want you to look them in the eye and say "I am alive despite you, not because of you. I am here not because I love YOU, but because I love the next generation more. And I am here because I want them to know how you chose the economy over their favorite relative."
I know a lot of people have cut off their relatives after this election, and this is not a post to tell you to stay in touch. This post is for people who have to keep familial ties for one reason or another, for people still in the closet, for people who need to smile and pretend like everything's okay to survive. Your time will come. Stay alive until then.
#seiya talks#honestly I don't know how much of a comfort this is going to be to people however it's a fucking comfort to me#I am absolutely going to That Bitchy Aunt who causes problems at Thanksgiving dinner eventually and that spite is keeping me going#us politics
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Was it fully selfish tho??? Viktor said he wanted the Hexcore destroyed but, like Heimerdinger, doesn’t tell him why. For the majority of the time they’ve known each other, Jayce has known that Viktor wanted to stay alive. He doesn’t know what drove Viktor to suicide or to want the Hexcore gone. All he knows is that Viktor (usually) wants to live. Yes, it’s partly selfish and misguided, but what did he have to guide him??? And while I still wouldn’t call it “selfless” because he’s not risking himself, he’s still trying to save Viktor’s life out of genuine care for him and the memory that for like 99.99% of the time he’s known him, he has clawed for every scrap of life he could get. Jayce truly believed that this is what Viktor would want. The building is crumbling around them and his partner is fading fast. He doesn’t have time to make a long-thought-out decision. It’s a hastily calculated risk.
I went and rewatched viktors rebirth scene and this is soooo fucking heavily laced with bodily autonomy metaphors. Jayce making that decision for viktor, corrupting him into this unfeeling un-human thing out of misplaced and selfish love. Literally putting his feelings and selfish need for viktor like, because hes so reliant on him. For his own mental health that he goes against viktors wishes and destroys his body and jayce doesnt even think about that. Its all for himself. He hardly even acknowledges what he's done to him. Just, the "you're alive and that's what matters" attitude. Viktor has no agency and when he realizes that thats when he walks away. oh god.
The latter parts of season one were already drawing attention to how their dynamic has shifted to viktor being used more than being an equal with jayce. And viktor puts up with it because without jayce he can't operate as a researcher/scientist with as much impunity. Jayce feels possessive of him, like he has ownership over him.
And Jayce yelling "i never asked for this" at viktor. Like!!!!AHHH. The manipulation is CRAZY. It's sooo fucked (in a toxic yaoi way) He isn't even self aware hes doing it. god. Saying that at the guy you just forced into being a void abomination out of selfishness is crazy. And then when viktors finally free the first thing he does is give that guys body his back after it was destroyed by shimmer....
#jayvik#at some point ‘saving a life was a selfish decision’ has got to be a malicious interpretation#jayce talis#viktor arcane#viktor#the hexcore#arcane spoilers
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