#consider this as my end of the year thingy

[vpyre]

So. Finally finished Veilguard. Here are my thoughts immediately post-ending in case anyone cares what I think lol

(Putting under a cut cus spoilers and also lots of words)

The final cutscene where I convinced Solas to bind the Veil to himself right before the wrap up epilogue thingy had me cheering and flailing around in my seat and actually tearing up a bit, but after, it set in that I didn’t really feel like I connected to most of the companions and it felt like their stories made no actual impact on anything. And it somehow felt like Rook didn’t impact them much at all either, even though you make some pretty big choices for them. They didn’t really have the depth of the companions in the other games or the strength of the bond the other game’s companions had with their protagonist. Rook felt very separate.

The whole game felt very low stakes and like there wasn’t actually any chance anything could go wrong. While I know there’s a bad ending, it’s really hard to get compared to the other games. You’d have to not be a completionist and completely ignore a large amount of side quests.

It felt a lot like all the choices I made were sort of inconsequential and took me to the same places regardless of what I could have chosen. It’s like the game holds your hand and treats you like you’re a child who needs to be guided through the whole process with failsafe after failsafe. It’s like it didn’t trust the player to just PLAY and feel the consequences. I want there to be consequences!! I want what kind of people the companions turn out to be to directly affect the story!! Like, the fact that most of their big choices don’t really have a right or wrong answer rubs me the wrong way. It feels like Emmrich choosing lichdom should have more tangible consequences than just losing Manfred, for example.

I want characters that struggle with morality and whether or not doing An Evil Thing is worth the cost. I want characters that are kind of assholes at the beginning for various reasons and who develop and improve (or get worse!!) as the story goes on. They were all WAY too nice to each other fsjdkfjdjchfjd. I miss Dorian and Vivienne bitching at each other. I miss when Anders told Fenris to kill himself. I miss when Morrigan and Alistair couldn’t get through a sentence without insulting each other at least twice </3

I also really, REALLY, REALLY wish there was more romance content or that there had been more acknowledgment of the romance in the epilogue than just one line without much to it, because GOD what it did actually give me was SO GOOD. I want MORE of that. And people say Emmrich’s is the most fleshed-out and finished romance. Yikes…

I seriously loved every scene with him and will fight anyone who says it isn’t a gorgeous romance, but all it did was leave me wanting MORE. It felt like there should have been MORE. I wish there’d been a celebration scene at the end at the very least. Give me a chance to give Emmrich a victory kiss PLEASEEEE!!! To be fair though, I think BG3, DAI, and DAI’s Trespasser DLC spoiled me SO rotten in that regard lmao.

Like, this game was SO GOOD and I loved every second, don’t get me wrong, it just felt like something crucial was missing to make it a full and impactful experience. There was SO MUCH potential and it makes me really sad to know that it genuinely, actually could have been even better than it was. It could’ve had me sobbing at my desk, but it just BARELY missed that mark. It felt rushed almost, which is fucking CRAZY considering that it was in development limbo for TEN FUCKING YEARS, but fucking EA was breathing down the dev’s necks and meddling and fucking with things, so I guess this is what we get 🫠

And what we did get was damn good, but- and I’ll say this over and over until the fucking cows come home- it felt like something was MISSING. It felt like there should be MORE. There was this sense of dissatisfaction with the whole thing that the other games didn’t give me in the slightest.

The writing was genuinely so good too!!! The story was fantastic!!! But the execution and some of the dialogue and the missed opportunities for connection between player and companions and the way the companions AND the player felt disembodied and separate from the rest of the world and each other just made the whole thing kinda unsatisfying. As a whole: great game! I had a ton of fun! I just wish there had been MORE.

Anyway, takeaway from Veilguard endgame: I fucking HATE capitalism!

[faceglitchsworld]

One Year with Aniteez wishing Happy Birthday to their fathers Ateez

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[catfishofoldin99colours]

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Bad.

[thegnomelord]

this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so

dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.

what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.

OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/

CW:NSFW

What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.

Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.

A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.

And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.

Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.

His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.

"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."

"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."

And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.

Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"

"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.

You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.

You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.

But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.

To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.

"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.

Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."

Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.

Then comes the actual courting dance.

One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."

You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"

With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.

Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"

Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.

You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.

"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.

You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.

God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."

You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.

Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.

What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.

Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.

Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.

And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.

"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"

"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.

And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.

It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.

"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.

You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"

Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.

"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.

"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.

"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.

The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."

"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."

"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

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[schlattslonghairytoes]

paint me like one of your french models 🎨

A.P calc teacher schlatt x A.P studio art teacher reader

Mr. Schlatts halloween party takes quite the turn.

Once all the girls at the table calmed down, their only request was that they were filled in about your weekend plans on monday, to which you actually agreed

now the hard part was picking a cute costume for you and schlatt, i mean he didn't really seem like a costume kinda guy

there was 20 minutes left in the period and you needed to find something fast

it was the last class of the day and schlatts party was tomorrow, and you knew you wanted to hand make yours and schlatts costume 

so you turned to the six bright eyed girls you had grown to love

your class was very relaxed, if they did their work and you would play music games and movies, your students loved you

but these girls ADORED you.

it was alanna, deyvn, natalia, lucy, renn, and kezia.

they were all so genuinely themselves, and they made you feel like you were one of them, they told you EVERYTHING, and i mean everything.

each one had such a different personality, yet they all were so close. You were gonna miss them next year

you slid your wheely chair over to their table and called for their attention

“Girls, im calling a meeting, i need your help” you sighed and looked around at them

"thats funny considering youre the teacher." alanna giggeled to herself

"shut up al, i wanna hear about her and mr schlatt" kezia said, suddenly paying very close attention, she never cared about classes, but gossip, oh she would have an A+ if it was a class

"dont be rude, anyways, as you heard before, me and ja- Mr. schlatt. are gonna have a matching costume for his party tomorrow and you guys are much cooler than me, what should we be?" you begged

each girl began searching pintrest and finding ideas until renn found something she deemed great

"ok, lightbulb! you guys should be adam and eve" everyone began to protest her idea but she continued on "everyone shut it, hear me out. number one hes religious, right? number two your bodies tea. you would look hot as fuck. cmon its a great idea."

"renn let me get this straight, you want me to wear a leaf over my cooch? and boobs? to a school function? with other teachers from this school??? yknow what your on a ban, no more ideas from you"

they all started hysterically laughing as renn raised her hands in surrender "any ideas that i can wear without being slut shamed by the schools faculty?" you asked

natalia was up next " what if you did flynn and rapunzel, wait no, actually tell Mr. Nivison to be Flynn, ugh hes so hot, why not match with him." that began a four minute argument about weither Mr. Schlatt was hotter, or Mr. Nivison

"can someone please lock in and find me a costume?" you begged over their debate

"okay i might have an idea." deyvn said, "ok so what if you were the starry night and Mr. schlatt was van gogh." she suggested, before i could even comment lucy butted in

"wait that would be so cute, ugh you never shut about about van gogh either! you could wear a little dress and like paint the starry on your face, or on the dress, and schlatt could do like an ear patch thingy, and the hat he wears, wait i love this!"

they all began throwing ideas at you about how you could execute the costume, and while some of their ideas were rancid, it could actually be a very cute costume.

when the period ended they all said their goodbyes, and while you were packing up schlatt made his way to your classroom and opened it with his key

"BOO" he tried to scare you

"i literally saw you jay" you laughed and you slid your laptop into your bag.

"ugh, ill get you eventually, dont even worry about it, did ya pick somthin' for us to wear tomorrow?" he made his way infront of your desk and leaned his weight on the table

"i did actually, you have to hear me out though, it might sound dumb." he quickly cuts you off

"nothing you say is dumb" he was looking up at you and his eyes were very warm, much more than usual, it threw you off your game for a moment

"um, well thank you, but seriously, let me explain it before you say anything, i think it would be cute if we were the starry night and van gogh bu-"

"i love that." he cuts you off, still staring at you with the same look in his eyes as before

it was overwhelming you the way he was looking at you, but at the same time it pulled you in.

"no questions? i mean what if i wanted to dye your hair red." i laugh quietly

"id let you." he says without missing a beat

"m' not gonna do that, when should i bring you your costume, or like help you get ready or something." you felt very judged by his gaze, but not in a negative way, if that makes any sense, he was really confusing you.

"well party starts at 8, so come over early, we can get ready together, maybe even pregame a bit, and only if you want you can help setup. sound good?" he said softly

"yeah, sounds good." you said back, copying his tone of voice

"see ya' tomorrow toots." he stood up and walked out the room without looking back, the door clicked shut and he left you with nothing but your thoughts.

what the fuck was that.

you were so confused about what had just went down

why on earth was he looking at you like that

since when was he calling you toots, he always just called you by your name, no pet names

all those thoughts continued to plauge your mind for the duration of the night

and the next morning

and the afternoon

all the way until it was time to head over to schlatts house

it was in a nice area, he lived right outside the city, near astoria, queens

he had told you before that he commuted every day to work, but it was only a 20-40 minute drive depending on traffic

when you arrived at his house the first thing you noticed was how it was a very old building, yet his very new car (very expensive) was sat outside, it was a very symbolic scene, but it felt like him in a way

you got to the door, bag and a bottle of benedictine in hand, and rung the door bell, and it was taking quite a long time, you were starting to worry

but you were suprised when the door flung open revealing a very disheveled looking schlatt

"holy shit thank everything your here, im such an idiot i fully fell asleep and i just woke up and now im gonna crash out." as he rambled you set down your stuff at a nearby table

you walked back over to him and placed both your hands on his face, attempting to calm him down "johnny look at me please"

you noticed his eyes darting around and lip trembling. he had mentioned his severe anxiety to you before but you never knew it got this bad

`"hey im right here its ok, were going to get everything done, i know youre stressed but we are gonna do this together, we have time, and we can even make it fun, ok?" his eyes slowly begin to focus on yours and his lip began to calm

you moved one of your hands to his and let him ground himself and calm down, eventually he was able to let go of your hand and give you a hug

hugging him was the best thing youve ever experienced, he engulfed your whole body and rested his head atop yours and for a moment you felt true peace

your breathing syncronized and you stood there holding eachother

until you felt something fuzzy brush against your leg, and you pulled away to find two cats rubbing at your legs, and orange and black cat to be specific

you looked back at schlatt and he was smiling at you "they like you, makes sense, i do too." your eyes widened and you fully turned yourself in his direction

"what did you just say?" you squint your eyes and point at him "can you repeat that" you said through your smile

"i said i like you, and we both know you heard me the first time" he moved closer to you with a grin you were growing to love plastered across your face

"maybe i just wanted to hear you say it again" you smirk, before turning around and picking up his orange cat, "whats this one called?" you smile

"oh were just gonna smooth past that huh?" he asked accusatorially, one eyebrow raised, as he walked closer to you

being around schlatt made you feel bold, you were so comfortable around him that it boosted your confidence tenfold, you got super close to him, lips mear inches away

"i like you too, but we have alot to do, so we'll talk about it later." it wasnt a question, you looked up at him and then, walked away

you made your way to his kitchen and started pouring food into plasic bowls you found on the kitchen table

"you think your funny huh?" he made his way into the kitchen around 20 seconds after you, what you didnt know is he needed a moment to ajust himself in his pants

"hilarious, we an two hours until people arrive, and i need atleast and hour to get ready, make your self busy." you said as you continued setting up the food.

"your very bossy, yknow' that?" he laughed as he began unraveling cob webs he bought days prior.

"oh you have no idea handsome." you walked out the kitchen and started setting up lights cobwebs and fake bats on the celing of the living room

for the next hour you two would shamelessly flirt and joke around, like before, but there was now this tension, that in all honesty, you really liked

then came time to get ready, you had bought everything for schlatt, all he had to do was put it on, and leave you alone to do your makeup

but omfg he would not.

you were sat on his bathroom counter, trying to recreate the starry night on your face, but this man would not stop talking and asking you questions

you looked over at him sat on the closed toilet, just yapping, he was wearing a dark blue button up, and nice fitting jeans, along with a white patch on his ear, with fake blood on it.

fuck he looked good, but you could contain yourself. schlatt on the other hand was basically foaming at the mouth

you were wearing a relatively short dress, that was low-cut and had puffy sleeves, your hair was down, and your face was painted like the starry night.

and he genuinly thought he was gonna splooge his pants.

you on the other hand were just trying to finish your makeup, and he needed to be in another room because he kept distracting you, so the only logical task you could give him was to go make you a drink, and he listened

you were done with you makeup and you went to go meet him in the kitchen, you stood at the doorway of his kitchen waiting for him to notice you were there

when he eventually turned around, you could see in his eyes the moment he realised you were there, his entire face softened and his eyes beamed at you. he walked closer to you inspecting the makeup on your face

he was very close, you could feel his breath on you, and you didnt mind, you even considered kissing him, but of course, as if fate was not on your side, the door bell rung

and you both began to laugh as he went to go welcome the guests, you on the other hand went and chugged the drink he made you, cause without it, you might not of been able to survive the night

-everyone started arriving, and it was the most fun youve had in a while, music blasting, drinks chugged, storys told, dancing and party games

-and schlatt could not keep his eyes off you

-you laughed, flirted and smiled the night away until everyone began leaving, but you offered to help him clean up, and of course he accepted

-he had changed the music from his party playlist, to his calm playlist and the first song that came on was "something stupid" by frank sinatra

"i love frank sinatra" you laughed as you wiped his counter down with a paper towel.

without missing a beat he began to sing along to the song "i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time, to spend an evening with me" in the most beautiful singing voice youve ever heard

naturally you sang along with him, and eventually you to ended up dancing together in his kitchen, to frank sinatra, dressed as a painter and his work of art

and somehow, after only having this man in your life for just over a month, you were never going to let him leave it.

you both finished cleaning, and it was time for you to head home, as he walked you to your car you felt an overwhelming feeling, something that you couldnt put your finger on, like your heart felt like it was going to explode

you placed your stuff in the passenger seat of your car, and you went around to find schlatt holding open your door for you

and thats what did it

you grabbed the collar of this shirt and pulled him down to your level and kissed him

for a split second you had thought you made a mistake, but that fear subsided when he kissed you back and aggressively wrapped his arms around your waist

he pushed your back against your car with his body and continued kissing you as you threaded your fingers through his hair

you pulled away to breathe and he stared at you with a dopey grin on his face

"see you monday?" you asked with a love sick smile

he pecked both of your cheeks, then both sides of your smile before planting a kiss on your lips, as you giggled. when he finally pulled away he kissed your forehead and said,

"see you monday." he kissed your hand one last time and began walking inside, once again leaving you with your thoughts

you silently got in your car, and you realised you could finally identify that feeling before

it was love.

[writeriguess]

Hiyaa!!!

I'm so so so glad that you're back! I wish you the best and hope you have the perfect time writing and enjoying this🥰

Since you said you got your old requests deleted I guess I'll send mine again XD

I had sorta of a specific request afab!reader x Bakugo first time (nsfw)? Reader and Bakugo known each other since middle school and hated each other's guts but then in the first year of ua thing start to change... Like a enemies to friends to lovers thingy And they confess to each other a day before the final war now it's several months after that and when Bakugo takes reader for hiking on the weekend but then end up having their first time in the hot springs?

I hope it's not too much XD

Thank you!✨❤️

author's note: I remember writing this request before and feeling proud of it, but unfortunately, I cleared my entire queue of over 40 fics when the plagiarism issue surfaced. It's been quite a while since I last wrote NSFW content, so I need to practice again. I apologize in advance if the smut scene ends up being a bit brief.

From Sparks

The crunch of boots against gravel echoed through the serene mountains as Bakugo Katsuki led the way up the hiking trail. The midday sun filtered through the canopy of towering trees, casting golden patches of light on the forest floor. Behind him, you followed, your breath hitching slightly from the climb.

The crisp mountain air filled your lungs as you adjusted the strap of your backpack, keeping your gaze on Bakugo's broad back. The way his shoulders flexed under his tank top with every step he took distracted you from the ache in your legs. He glanced over his shoulder, the usual fiery determination in his crimson eyes softened by a rare smirk.

"Keep up, slowpoke," he teased, his voice playful but laced with the competitive edge you’d grown to expect from him.

“Maybe if you weren’t trying to kill me with this climb,” you shot back, feigning annoyance. “You know, not everyone has the stamina of a hero like you.”

He huffed out a laugh, slowing his pace slightly. “Didn’t think you’d wanna quit on me, considering how much you run your mouth.”

The banter felt natural, a sign of how far the two of you had come since those middle school days filled with endless bickering. Back then, you couldn’t stand each other, always butting heads over the smallest things. Now, years later, things were different. The bond forged through shared battles and late-night confessions made your relationship unshakable.

When you finally reached the summit, Bakugo stopped abruptly, turning to face you as you caught up. His face was flushed, either from the climb or the way his eyes lingered on you. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you with an expression that made your heart race.

“This way,” he said gruffly, jerking his thumb toward a path off the main trail. You followed, curious as to where he was leading you.

The sound of running water reached your ears before you saw it—a hidden hot spring tucked away behind a cluster of rocks. Steam rose from the clear, inviting water, curling in the cool mountain air like a beckoning promise.

“You planned this?” you asked, your voice tinged with surprise and delight.

Bakugo shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Figured you could use some downtime. We both could.”

Without waiting for a response, he began peeling off his boots and shirt, leaving you frozen in place. His sculpted physique was on full display, every scar and muscle a testament to the life he led.

“You coming or what?” he called over his shoulder, his smirk returning.

Your heart hammered as you quickly removed your shoes and outer layers, stepping into the warm water. It enveloped you like a soothing embrace, but the proximity of Bakugo, now sitting beside you with the water lapping at his chest, set your nerves alight.

The conversation dwindled, replaced by a comfortable silence as the two of you soaked in the tranquil atmosphere. His hand brushed against yours beneath the surface, tentative at first, but when you didn’t pull away, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off with a gentle tug, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. His hands settled on your hips, steadying you. “Just… let me do this.”

His lips crashed into yours, a mixture of urgency and tenderness that stole your breath away. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the heat of his touch and the sound of your racing heart.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hardness pressing against your swollen pussy lips, and you couldn't help but moan. Katsuki smirked, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His usual brash confidence was softened by something more intimate, more vulnerable—a rare glimpse of the man beneath the hero.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of emotions he rarely expressed. His hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as his forehead pressed against yours.

The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t imagine a better place to be than here with him, sharing something you had never dared to hope for.

You let out a soft whimper when he entered you, his cock filling you completely. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you rocked against him, taking him deeper. His hips snapped upward, driving his length even further inside you.

Katsuki let out a low growl, his teeth grazing your neck. Your skin prickled with anticipation, heightening every sensation. Pleasure coiled deep within you, building with each thrust until you couldn't hold back any longer.

Your release washed over you like a wave, the rush of emotions and physical sensations threatening to drown you. Bakugo followed shortly after, his body tensing as he came.

When your breathing finally returned to normal, he pulled back, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, his tone soft despite the edge of frustration in his words.

"I could ask you the same question," you replied, giving him a smile that left no doubt about your feelings.

Katsuki chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess we're both fucked."

His kiss was softer this time, a promise of things to come. You didn't know where the two of you were headed, but whatever happened, you knew it would be worth it.

Feel free to request <3

[enhas-pov]

enemies by blood

summary: born in a mafia family definitely wasn’t easy. especially when your dad’s enemy’s son, park sunghoon goes to your school. reader and sunghoon grew up hating each other due to their father’s bad past with each other, but what’s gonna happen when they want their kids to finish what they started?

warnings: (gang)violence, lots of fighting, murder, blood, drugs, money laundering, guns, kissing, usage of "oppa", pet names, bad ending

word count: 4.5k

note: i haven’t read through it‼️ ignore spelling mistakes

pt.2

════════════════════════

my whole life i`ve felt like an outsider. people always look at me weird, they give me dirty looks, but at the same time theyre afraid of me. all because of my family.. my dad to be specific. since before i was born, my dad has been a part of this mafia gang thingy where drugs, guns, killing, and all of that stuff was involved. so growing up i was taught most of those things. id say im pretty good at fighting, and using guns. my mom on the other hand died when i was 10, she was killed by some guy that my dad was having problems with.. ive never met someone who can relate to me whatsover, except for park sunghoon.

sunghoon goes to the same school as me and grew up exactly like i did, and when i say exactly i mean EXACTLY. his dad is a part of a mafia gang too, so sunghoon grew up involved with that as well just like i did, and guess what? his mom got killed by a guy his dad was having problems with as well. if you put two and two together.. my dad killed sunghoons mom so sunghoon`s dad killed my mom, which is one of the reasons why sunghoon and i grew up hating each other.

my dad told me that him and mr. park used to be a part of the same gang, they were actually really close friends until something happened between the two of them that ruined their friendship and caused them to turn on each other. basically, my dad and mr. park were planning a huge drug deal, but for some reason mr. park tipped off the cops to make sure all the money made off the drug deal would be his, so when my dad got arrested for it he spent 10 years in prison. and when he got out he killed sunghoons mom as revenge, but when mr. park killed my mom for revenge because of his wife`s death, it made things worse between the two.

i was sat in the backseat of the fancy car i was driven to school with everyday by my dads personal driver, min. i was not allowed to walk to school and especially not alone. my dad told me there are people who know about me and that since im his daughter they kinda want me dead.. which is understandable? i guess, considering the kind of shit my dad does to these people. "were here, miss y/l/n" my driver says, parked right in front of my school. "thank you-" i was two seconds away from getting out of the car before i was stopped by my drivers very concerned voice. "wait, mr. park is right behind us. would you like to wait?" i rolled my eyes at his words, not giving a care in the world about park fucking sunghoon. "i`m okay. thank you, min"

the second i made my way out of the car i was met with sunghoons tall figure stood not too far behind me. he threw a glare at me that i quickly returned which he rolled his eyes at. as we both started walking to the entryway of our school, we were pretty much walking next to each other, obviously, since we were going the same way. "thought the teacher told you to cover up?" he suddenly says, referring to my choice of clothing, his eyes looking straight ahead as hes avoiding any and all eye contact with me.

"you were the one who went complaining to our teacher about it, acting like what i was wearing wasn’t making your dick hard" he only chuckled at my words. once we reached the entryway, he opened the door and stood to the side. he grinned, "ladies first" he said. i gave him a fake smile and walked through the open door. right as he was about to walk in from behind me, i slammed the door shut in his face and locked it so he couldn`t get in no matter what. i watched him banging on the door and yelling at me to open it. "oppa! i think the back door is open" i said loud enough for him to hear, knowing its a good 5 minute walk to get there. i laughed at how furious he was before making my way to class.

i guess you could say me and sunghoon act childish with each other sometimes. we argue a lot over dumb, unnecessary and small shit for no reason. we could choose to ignore each other but since i have it out for him and he has it out for me, its hard not to say anything every time we come across each other. we`re not exactly like our dads. we dont pull a gun on each other every time we cross paths, but do not get me wrong. there are times when our silly little arguments have evolved and turned into something much bigger causing a physical fight ending in blood and injuries. but its always been between just the two of us, we`ve never involved our dads or anything because we seem to just handle it on our own.

"i hope everyone here studied for their exams, you had all week and i will be disappointed in you if you fail" our teacher was walking around and placing the exam papers on each one of our desks. suddenly, at the sound of the door being slammed open, everyone turned their heads just to see sunghoon standing by the door looking pissed. "mr. park! it is one thing to come late to my class to take your exam, but its another thing to slam my door open and interrupt me" watching our teacher yell at sunghoon really made my day, especially the embarassed look on his face which made me smile to myself.

"im sorry, miss. i had to come in through the back door since-" before he could rat me out, he got cut off by our teacher who decided to yell at him once again. "i don`t want to hear it mr. park. take your seat and be quiet" sunghoon glared at me silently before he made his way to his desk which just happened to be right next to mine. i was expecting him to start throwing childish insults at me, but to my surprise he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him in complete silence. odd, but i couldnt be bothered to start anything during our exams.

"you guys have 1 hour to finish your exams starting from now" the room went completely quiet once everyone turned their heads down and started writing down on the piece of paper. i was focused on my exam until i felt something press down on my foot. confused, i look underneath my desk to see that its someone whos pressing down on my foot with their own. of course when i look up to see who it is, its sunghoon. hes not looking at me as his eyes are stuck to the paper in front of him, instead he uses his pen to point at a tiny note right next to his paper. i can see that theres something written on it, but since i couldnt make it out i decided to lean over his table a bit. squinting my eyes, i read the words "shouldn`t have locked me out pretty thing" pretty thing? really? is he referring to me as a thing? what an ass..

"miss. ___ is looking at my papers" wait, what?! i look up at sunghoon whos smirking at me, ew.. before turning to our teacher who looks like shes actually about to kill me.

"miss, i wasn’t-"

"i dont want to hear it! detention now, miss y/l/n"

fucking unbelievable. if im gonna miss my exam and end up in detention, you sure as hell know sunghoon will too. i tried not to lose my shit, grabbing my backpack before "accidentally" tripping over sunghoons desk which kinda revealed a bit of my behind to everyone in class. "miss! sunghoon just tripped me on purpose.." i said, acting all shy and embarrassed about how my skirt flipped over. "shes fucking lying!" sunghoon stood up from his desk and i could tell he was gonna lash out on me.

"am not! you tripped me over that desk on purpose you fucking pervert-"

"watch your mouth you lying piece of shit!"

while me and sunghoon were lashing out on each other, we didn`t notice how our teacher was red in the face like she was about to explode out of anger. "that`s enough! you guys are grown enough to know not to be using that sort of language, nor to be arguing like little kids! you should know to act better. detention for the both of you right now!" she yelled in our faces while everyone else were sat staring at us awkwardly.

both me and sunghoon were now sat in detention. we also just happened to be the only ones here, along with a teacher tho.. sunghoon was sat on the other side of the classroom as he wished to not be near me at all, which i’m glad for. i was scrolling through my phone when the teacher suddenly got up from the chair he was sat on. “alright. i’ve got a wife and kids to get home to, so you two better behave on your own until school is finished” and then he left just like that, leaving me and sunghoon all alone. "cant believe i`m missing my exam because of you.." i spat, breaking the silence. "maybe if you hadn`t locked me out i wouldn`t have done what i did. besides, the stunt you pulled really just proves my point. you really are a slut-" and this is usually how our fights start.

gripping the book in my hands that was on my desk, i quickly threw it in sunghoons direction and his instincts kicked in instantly. he dodged the book which flew right past his head, hitting the wall with a harsh thud that left a noticeable mark. "nice try princess" he pushed his desk to the side and began walking towards me as he was visibly angry. i ducked as fast as i could when he swung his fist at me. i felt a rush of air across my face that his fist had missed. "a man hitting a woman? that`s not very man-like of you" i twisted my body as i attempted to throw a kick at his knee, but sunghoon was quick to jump back which resulted in my foot connecting with the wall instead. "fuck!"

"dont hurt yourself now" sunghoon smirked before his next punch successfully caught me across my cheek, causing a sharp pain which made me stumble backwards. suck it up.. i launched myself forward and managed to tackle him down. with sunghoon on the ground, i was now straddling him with my fists positioned in the air right above his face. we were both breathing heavily as sunghoon struggled to get away from underneath me. "are you getting weaker, park sunghoon?" i asked, lowering my fists before getting back up on my feet. "youre saying that as if you didnt take the most damage" he panted, sitting himself up against the wall. "yet i`m not the one whos out of breath" i grabbed my backpack and made my way out of the classroom as i couldn`t be bothered to deal with his bullshit anymore, and i could feel his eyes on me as i walked out.

"dad! im home" i walked into the kitchen with no sight of my dad. i jumped when i saw my dads personal driver sat at the kitchen table. "min? you scared me. wheres dad?" i sat down next to him, placing my backpack on the floor. "your dad is currently in a meeting, hell be back soon. how did your exam go?" i watched him eat his food as i had no idea what to say to that. "couldnt have gone better.." i lied. he hummed, "if youre wondering, then no, i didn`t tell your dad i saw you and mr. park having a conversation on your way inside" i furrowed my eyebrows at him. why did he think he had to keep something like that away from my dad? we weren`t exactly saying positive things to each other, unless he thinks..

"ew, no! its most definitely not like that. we do talk sometimes, but its just shit talking about each other to each others faces" i said, not missing the way he threw me a look that screamed "i don`t believe you". i rolled my eyes playfully,

"i do not like sunghoon whatsoever-"

"i`d hope so"

i heard a voice say. turning around, i saw my dad walking into the kitchen with a lot of papers in his hands. "min, these are for you" he handed him a few of the papers which min accepted and thanked him for before he got up from his chair. i watched my dad sit down on the chair min was just sat on, "what did i hear you talking about just now?" he questioned, placing the rest of the papers on the table in front of him as he started going through them one by one.

"my exam" i said, which wasn`t completeley a lie. he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows before looking back at his papers. "i was meaning to talk to you about sunghoon" what? why sunghoon out of all people? "you were..?" i asked, feeling myself getting a little nervous. "you know, sunghoon is no different from his father. he`s just as bad as him" i hummed as i was trying not to show how desperate i was for him to get to the point. "i was originally planning on doing this myself, but i figured that it would be a better for you to do it, since you "do not like sunghoon whatsoever""

"well, ur right about that. what is it that you want me to do dad?" he paused before he took a deep breath. he turned to me slightly and placed his hand on my shoulder, "sweetheart". he finally said as curiosity started taking over me. he hesitated for a second and it kinda freaked me out. was this gonna be some sort of arranged marrige? did he know about our fight today? or maybe- "i want you to kill sunghoon" what?! kill sunghoon..? i’d lie if i say i didn`t hate him, but ive never gone as far as to actually wanting to murder him.. i never have, never will, never wanted to and never planned on taking someone’s life, even if it`s someone who i despise.

“i know i’m asking for a lot-“

“asking for a lot? dad, you’re asking me to take someone’s life..”

“sweetheart, i know. but unfortunately this isn’t a choice” i watched him in horror as no words were able to leave my mouth. “you will do what i’m asking you to do. you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, right?” he stood up from his chair, looking down on me demanding that i give him an answer. “y-yes dad..” i managed to get out, not bothering to look at him. “very well then” his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. i can’t kill sunghoon.. but i have to? no. i don’t have to, i think? it’s what my dad wants me to do, does that mean i should? murder is wrong, but sunghoon is a bad person. does sunghoon deserve to die? shit..

“you want me to kill ___?” sunghoon’s dad had delivered the exact same news to his son. “that’s right. she’s no different from her father” sunghoon knew that what his father was asking him for was wrong. he couldn’t bring himself to kill ___, even tho he hated her he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“dad.. i don’t know if i can-“

“don’t start with me son. when i tell you to do something, you do it. don’t act like it’ll be hard, she’s a woman after all”

a woman who could easily beat my ass.. sunghoon thought to himself. “yes father” he said. “very well then” he watched his father walk out of the room, what was he gonna do now? should he kill her just because his father told him to do so? the guilt would be with him for the rest of his life if he did. but he wouldn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him, right?

“we’re here, miss y/l/n” min said, parked in front of my school. “thank you..” i made my way out of the car and prayed to god that i wouldn’t bump into sunghoon. a whole day had gone by and i still needed to process everything. i looked around as i made my way to the entryway with no sign of sunghoon, and i was relieved when i finally reached the door. but before i could open it myself, someone had opened it from the inside. looking up, my heart dropped at the sight of sunghoon stood in front of me. i swallowed nervously as we were both stood staring at each other in complete silence.

i tried to move past him, and so did he which caused our bodies to push up against each other. “sorry..” sorry? why the fuck did i apologize? “it’s alright..” he mumbled, moving to the side so i could walk past him. not wanting to make things even more awkward, i quickly walked past him and hurried my way over to class. wait, but.. why was sunghoon acting weird as well? maybe something happened and he was dealing with a personal matter.. don’t know, don’t care. he’ll be dead soon anyway.

i’m getting ready to start working out in what my dad calls "the den" its basically this underground gym/boxing place where my dad trains along with his men, but i usually show up after they’ve all left since i like being on my own. i had put on some black shorts and a white top that hung off my shoulder on one side. i reached for a hair tie and gathered all of my hair, putting it up in a high ponytail while some strands in the front were left loose. i then carefully started wrapping my hands in hand wraps and flexing my fingers afterwards. turning to the punching bag, i was getting ready to start my usual everyday practising, but that was until i heard footsteps coming from behind me. it was weird since i thought everyone had left, but when i turned around i was at a loss of words.

"how’d you get in here..?" my voice shook, watching sunghoons tall figure leaning against the door to the entryway. "wasn’t that hard. my men took out yours in the front pretty easily" he smirked at me, fidgeting with the gun in his hands. "you can’t bring a gun to a fist fight. thats why my men lost" one by one, i watched his men gather around him; all carrying guns. "this can go two ways" he said as he started walking towards me slowly "either it’ll just be the two of us and i’ll make it quick and painless, or ill have to bring my men on it and i guarantee that it’s gonna hurt" he was stood right in front of me while looking down on me with his head tilted slightly.

was sunghoon planning on killing me too? was he doing this because he somehow found out that i was planning on killing him first? there wasn’t enough time for me to think. right now i had to focus on just one thing, and that was to live. "did your men forget to take out the ones in the back too?" i watched the smirk on his lips disappear as my men started to gather around me as they had come in through the back. all though, they weren`t armed with guns like sunghoons men were which made me really nervous. sunghoon chuckled and began walking backwards until he was stood behind his men. i pulled the same move, which meant that our men were now gonna fight against each other to protect me and sunghoon.

"seems like you can’t face us without your guns" one of my men said who was stood in the very front. sunghoons men laughed, "let’s be fair about it then, shall we?" the sound of guns being thrown on the floor made me feel relieved. suddenly, the den exploded into chaos as our men went at each other with fists flying and bodies colliding. the men’s shouting and grunting filled the entire room while me and sunghoon were stood on each sides of the room watching them.

one of my men collapsed on the ground, but before he could get back up two men tripped over him which added to the pile of bodies that were already sprawled out across the floor. the den was a mess of sweaty, bloody, injured men that had mostly been beaten to death by each other. it went by faster than i expected, and worse than i expected. all that remained were either dead bodies or knocked out bodies with no one left standing except for me and sunghoon.

"what’s the matter princess? is this too much for you?" the sound of sunghoon’s voice brought me back to reality. i was distracted by the violent scene that was right in front of me. i took a deep breath, "nothing is too much for me" i said with my eyes looking straight at him from across the room. sunghoon looked at the gun in his hands before he threw it on the ground. "like my men said, lets be fair about it" he said, placing his hands in his pockets. "you can use the gun you know? i dont mind, since this will be your last fight after all.." the tension between us was heated. sunghoon only laughed at me, "give it all you’ve got baby" with each slow step, he was now walking towards me. "don’t call me that" i spat.

he paused dangerously close to me, our bodies almost making contact. "come on baby, don’t say that" he brought his hand up to my face, but i was quick to slap his hand away with mine. with no warning, sunghoon`s fist landed with a severse thud against my ribs and i felt the force knock my breath out of me. i whimpered when i was sent stumbling into a nearby table, gripping the edge of the table for balance. i wasted no time and launched myself back at him with a kick that grazed his shoulder. he let out a groan, quickly grabbing my leg and twisting it viciously.

i let out a cry as i fell to the floor. when sunghoon tried to get on top of me, i managed to wrench my leg free by kicking at his chest with my other foot. as he stumbled backwards, i got back up on my feet as fast as i could. we were both breathing heavily and our bodies were hot with sweat. "shit princess. you’re getting better at this" he panted, lifting his fists into the air. "thank you. it means a lot coming from you, oppa" i rushed forward, this time going low so i could tackle him. the second we both crashed onto the cold floor we started wrestled fiercly. our bodies were rolling on the floor as we tried to overpower each other.

suddenly, his hands found my neck. i felt his fingers squeezing as he pressed down. my eyes widened in panic and my hands quickly went flying to his wrists; clawing at them, desperate for air. i dug my nails into his skin until it started drawing blood. he hissed in pain and ended up loosening his grip just enough for me to shove him off. i started coughing and gasping for air before kicking him hard in his chest which caused him to also gasp for air when he felt himself not being able to breathe properly.

i charged at him once again, this time aiming my elbow at his face. he barley was able to block it with his forearm before i grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. "fuck!" he groaned, retaliating by grabbing my own hair and pulling it so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "a-ah!" i let out a shriek. we were both struggling while using the grip on each others hair to cause each other pain. with a sudden move, sunghoon yanked my head to the side and slammed my head into the wall causing my grip on his hair to loosen. my chest was rising and falling, my body sprawled out on the floor with my hair being a tangled mess. my head was pounding horribly and i couldnt bare the pain i was feeling in my body.

sunghoon took the chance and got on top of me. he leaned down with his face so close to mine that the tip of our noses were touching. i felt his heavy breath against my lips before slightly flinching at the feeling of metal against my temple. his eyes looked into mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "this is the end for you baby" he mumbled before he cocked the gun. sunghoon raised his eyebrows when i sniffled. our eyes were locked in an intense gaze. he clenched his jaw slightly, the gun in his hand shaking when he tried pressing it further into my temple. i stood still, watching every move that he was making.

"kiss me goodbye?" i said, almost sounding like a whisper. he froze like he couldnt believe what had just come out of my mouth. his grip on the gun loosened, just for a second as if he was questioning whether to kill me or not. he stared at me with his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unsure if i was joking or not. with the way i was looking into his eyes he could tell i was being serious when a tear rolled down my cheek. i leaned forward, my bloodied lips parting before they touched his. the kiss was soft as our lips moved together. i felt him deepening the kiss, parting his mouth as well. and with his lips still on mine, he pulled the trigger.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

i feel horrible i’m so sorry.. should i make it into a series orrr??

[somerandomcockroach]

OKAY, I didn't read any further about Vortex and First Aid mecha au fics but AHAHA I will just real quick write down a little thingie but since I am dead shy about my writing it will get buried wheeeezeee

SO, Brainstorm is the creator of all the suits. I'm sure he will be interested in the Vortex's case. I'm sure boss isn't interested in him investigating this case. I'm sure First Aid doesn't care about him investigating this case. I'm sure Vortex is interested in death of this suit's creator. "A medic without training managed to pilot Vortex? For weeks? And still alive?" -------------

"Vortex, this is Brainstorm he is... really interested in investigating your whole situation. His job today is to not get stomped on" "What a squiggle snack. My job is to ruin others' jobs, crossy" if only Vortex could move on his own before pilot can take control, the smug deformed grin could have been seen accompanied by shoulder wiggles Felix tiredly sighed and took out megaphone. "Brainstorm, get ready to play tag" The crazy scientist on the floor somewhere down below, looking like an ant from the top angle of the mech, started excitedly jumping on the spot, "Did it... he told you that? Warned you? It can do that? Do you two talk? For real?" without getting his eyes off the mech while also writing down everything in his newly took notebook. He didn't take a safe place on purpose. Direct contact gives like 80% more information. In the separated from Brainstorm's brain reality it was giving 80% only of his death from Vortex or his Boss.

Vortex loves playing with lives and lap up in them resisting in the face of death. No less he loves to see Aid standing on his way, he demand it actually. With the help of First Aid (which isn't actually that needed as he thought it would be) they managed to make about 4 full laps around the room. Ugly cackling and other undescribed sounds could be seen on the screen of the cockpit. Brainstorm is damn good at running and writing. How many years of experience he has? "You tell me you just hold the handles but you don't move? It's the force moving for you?" "Yes," blank look on his face tells how sapped he is of this clownery. Not like someone will take over the suit until he dies to end his suffering. Brainstorm made a higher jump. He does it when he has strange ideas. "Is it the dead spirit? Poltergeist moving you, touching?" Vortex stopped running for a moment and stood up in a pretty cocky way. [Can you feel my touching, crossy-pussy? ~] Words were accompanied with touching. First Aid launched his hands from handles "YES" "OH MY GOD THE CREATOR SO IT'S POSSIBLE? So if the poltergeist can take over once the pilot is in charge how much possibility that if to -" muttering state (actually very loud) took over once again, he kept running circles and writing down while Vortex was standing still. [Awww, rude, cuss, fighting already, don't piss me off, I will bite ~] Felix... sat down with his hands on the face pressuring against laps. Someone finally believing him made it worse. He turned his brain off for some minutes when scientist's voice finally got in his ears. "Can I get in the cockpit while you hold handles?" [Yes ~] "Of course, if you want to be smashed exactly in the middle of your body from brain to tip, very promptly. Might be fun actually, I haven't been covered in human blood for weeks" [I can cover you in blood of so many, just one your word and I will give you such a pleasure show] "What if I get in with you by my side, does mech work only from handles? Can you turn it on differently?" [Oh yeah he can turn me on in so many different ways, big brain] That wasn't necessary. First Aid actually considers Vortex's mass murder suggestion. He might even take a delight of it right now.

[minsyal]

She Was His

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Summary: Sad-ish.. Written fast and slowly at the same time. It’s been in my wip for… a few years now. Enjoy 💕 not mega edited, apologies for any grammatical thingies.

Word count: 2800

An overwhelming race of the steadfast beating in her chest exploded as soon as the fields were flooded with a haze of crimson. Flags waved proudly in the wretched wind of the summer day, creating a sea of blood upon the grassy plains. The first harvests of the summer crept in from the false spring of years past, providing the first taste of freshness in two years.

She could hear the heralds heralding from the gates of King’s Landing where forces encroached on the sky scraping walls. With enough focus, she could spot him riding in front. Rising gallantly from a white steed, the Lannister patriarch sat with a stiff back and cold resolve. Pleated drapery cascaded down from his broad shoulders to attach to his narrowed hips. Everything about him bled with an unwavering confidence, the same confidence that had stolen her heart from her intended many years previous.

“Princess.” The Master of Whispers was always lurking around corners and concealing himself within the shadows spoke. His hand was cold and plush against her shoulder as he delicately reached out to guide the princess away. “You should be in the Holdfast where it is safest.”

“There is no threat.” Her tone was resolute and her shoulders squared as she shook loose from his light hold. The Grand Maester was also nearby, listening as the two conversed. “Lord Tywin is here for our protection.” Her defense was as strong as the impenetrable stones holding the earth down. Beliefs cemented in centuries of faith grounded her as she, for the first time in years, felt a wave of calm wash over her body.

“A precious assumption from a naive heart.” He, Varys, paced the small space of the stone tower. “Have you considered-”

His words meant nothing to her for he spoke in an ill favor of her beloved lord. She would have none of his lies. Fleeing his presence, she joined the Grand Maester at the window’s ledge. Her fingers were warm against the cold stone that separated her from the open air. “It is anything but an assumption, my Lord.”

“Lord Tywin has not taken a stance during the Rebellion.” Varys tucked his chin to his chest as he eyed the silken fabrics that hung from his wrists. “Greeting the city with thousands of armed men often is not a welcoming sight. Should Lord Tywin decide that his faith with the crown has run thin, it will not end well for the Targaryen dynasty.”

“It will turn in our favor.” Pycelle insisted, pressing his shaking fingers to the heavy chains that hunched his back. “Lord Tywin has served the Targaryen dynasty valiantly and faithfully since the day he became Lord of Casterly Rock upon his father’s death. His heir serves in the King’s Guard and his daughter was set to wed Rhaegar.”

“The crowned-prince was slain on the Trident and Prince Rhaegar was wed to Elia Martell.” Varys reminded the room, though his words were not warm.

The mention of his name made her suddenly uncomfortable. “Rhaegar is dead, but that does not mean that Cercei’s love for him has ceased. She would have married him if not for my father’s decisions.” She pressed her hand firmly down on her stomach to quell the fluttering butterflies that bounced from its walls as she looked into the blinding glint of his crimson armor. “Let him in.”

“My princess,” Varys tone had become concerningly low, “do not allow your love for him to shroud your rational thought. There is a reason that Lord Tywin had not chosen a side in this war. At the death of your brother, he joins the battle. Does that not leave a bitter taste upon your tongue?”

“He will not allow us to crumble.” She defended, a sweat breaking out on her forehead. “He was my intended for many years. This is a way for him to finally have my father accept the betrothal. The Lannister army will assist us in quelling this rebellion once and for all.”

A hush fell over the room as the uneven footsteps of the king echoed up the stairwell. His were followed closely by another, a younger man covered in heavy armor. All eyes were focused directly on the painted wooden door that separated the overlook from the rest of the Keep.

Hobbling into the room, thin and frail, Aerys used any railing he could to maintain his balance. A wild look clouded his lilac eyes, fluctuating from pinpricks to full dilation. Nobody present was truly sure if he was aware of his surroundings. Behind him stood Jaime Lannister, a dashing young knight with hearts to spare. Though popular among the crowds of maidens, she wondered who he was truly interested in.

Pycelle and Varys plead their cases to the lone judge who seemed to go in and out of listening. His fingers shook as they gripped at the golden crown of tangled wings placed heavily atop his brittle hair. For a moment he pressed his thinning lips together and contemplated deeply in a way that she had not seen him do in decades. Deep in the cavernous depths of his mental prison, he listened to the voices that instructed him in his daily life. “Lord Tywin cannot be trusted, my king.” One voice, foreign and shrill, urged while the other, mature and shaken, suggested differently. “Lord Tywin will protect this city. He will end the rebellion.”

Aerys did not ponder on his options for an extended period of time. His decision was made in the filling of a lung as he muttered the few words aside from garbled madness he had in the past few months.

“Let him in.”

Those words seemed to mean nothing to Aerys as his eyes glazed back over from his position in the room. He did not look to his daughter nor his council who all dispersed throughout the throne room. Pycelle began his short jaunt to the front gates where he instructed a footsoldier to deliver word from the King that the gates should be opened to Lord Tywin.

“Come, princess.” Varys began to pull the princess’s arm, but found a stone wall beneath his fingertips. “We must get you somewhere safe.”

She was unmoving and uncaring of what the Master of Whispers had to say. Any words that came from his mouth were null in her mind.

“Princess, you must go now.” Varys pulled forcefully at the princess’s arm, so much so that the sleeve of her gown tore in his fingertips. Any other instance as such would leave a man without his head but an urgentness in his chest compelled him to act with ferocity. “Lord Tywin and his men are not here to ensure your safety.”

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it.

All the years Tywin spent as Hand of the King he had vied for her hand. He had, on multiple occasions, taken her to spend the summer months in Casterly Rock where she could live freely and happily. He had planted seeds of safety in her core that had only cemented her trust in him, and hindered Varys’s attempts to guide the girl away.

None of it mattered, though. Tywin would get what he wanted in the end even if his desires had to adjust to the circumstances.

~~*~~

“What of the girl?” The path to King’s Landing had been an easy one, one that Lord Tywin had made many in the past.

Red velvet cloth draped thickly over the encampment that laid near the forking of Blackwater Rush. The room was occupied by a select few. The men within were to carry out the most heinous of crimes. Though reports conflict, it is generally accepted that the sinister deeds were ordered by the Lannister lord. In the distance laid their destiny, one that would alter timelines that had been set in stone for centuries.

Lord Tywin adjusted his jaw from where it had been clenched harshly to the right of center, keeping his lips pressed into a thin scornful line. “Leave her to me.”

~~*~~

Her feet could not carry her fast enough away from Varys. Echos of his pitchy voice rang through the walls and into her eardrums, beating away like sticks upon clashing cymbals. Heavy material glided across the floor, sweeping every bit of dirt and debris into its train as she ran desperately for the throne room. At the very least, she knew that Ser Jaime and her father would be there, waiting for their fates.

It was an odd moment of willful ignorance on the princess’s part. Deep in her heart she knew that she was running to her death. She was painfully aware of the chaos that ensued in and outside of the walls that had protected her for her entire life. The screaming in the streets were not joyous. No bells rang for celebration. Scarlet embers flecked with honeyed gold were not that of the evening sunset.

The screams were pained, filled and overflowing with an extinguishment of life. Sounds of bells were morphed from crumbling walls and pounding doors as foot soldiers stormed through the cobblestone streets. The evening sunset was not due for hours. Fires were set across the city, illuminating the rising smoke and ash that clouded the sky in a display of power.

She should have left.

Within the throne room, she was met with a sight that brought bile rising to the top of her throat. Churning upset her stomach and she heaved on a dry tongue. Though his skin had paled throughout the years, he looked particularly gaunt lying on the floor with ichor trickling from his neck. His fingers were curled into fists that bruised purple down to his wrists. Thin and stringy hair that once glittered in the vibrancy of the midday sun was now filled and bland, painted a shade of garnet similar to that of Lord Tywin’s armor.

If it weren’t for the circumstance, she could have said that Jaime looked particularly regal upon the Iron Throne. Downcast eyes focused on the glint of steel in his lap, concentrated rivet directed at the dense pressure that moved his shoulders downward.

“Ser Jaime?”

She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he looked up from his seat. The princess should have fled for Dragonstone, Jaime thought as she took heavy steps in his direction. He refused to listen to the nagging voice in his head telling him to do what was honorable. Her fate was already sealed.

“Ser Jaime?” She repeated, steps growing faster in speed and more uneven as she clutched at her chest and neared her father’s corpse.

“Ser Jaime? Please!” Anguished sorrow bled from her lips as she placed a hand gently over her father’s heart. It had not beat a single time in nearly ten minutes.

Footsteps fell in large groups from the Throne Room’s main entrance. The doors were left open from when she had come through them, allowing Tywin and his small garrison east entry.

Tywin Lannister stood there before her, his crimson armor dulled from bloodshed. Whose blood stained his chest, she did not know, but given his stature and ease of movement one could presume that he was relatively unharmed. A simple halting of his hand had the remaining infantrymen stalled in the doorway, the majority turning their backs to the room as they surveyed the hall outside. Tywin began his approach.

Faint screams bounced off the walls and into the rafters of the room, rising upward like plumes of heavy black smoke until they disappeared into the air. The princess was beside herself, her hands now red with her father’s ichor matching the front of her dress where he had bled as she groomed his hair out of his face. For all that he had put her through, he was still her father.

Tywin was upon her now, his face hardened as he watched her shoulders relaxing as the weight of her situation fully dawned on her. She turned to him then, eyes filled with tears that streamed down the contours of her face.

He had always thought of her to be particularly beautiful. In the warm summer months, he had spent many hours courting her in the privacy of his own home. There was a hope in him back then that they could wed and from their union would come heirs that he could marry off to solidify his power. Whether there was true love for her in there was questionable.

There was nothing about the princess he disliked. She was agreeable, fairly intelligent, and held onto his word like it had been written by the gods. Although, she did not worship him. A clear admiration for the man was displayed on her features, especially so when he was leading council meetings or sitting the throne in the place of her father. She had told him on many occasions that she wished to be able to hold the room the same way he did. In fact, there were many things he found he did like. Her company was comfortable, always melding into his presence as if she had always been there. No one would argue her beauty either. Similar in looks to that of her mother, the princess was soft and ethereal in appearance. She dressed in beautiful gowns and always smelled slightly of rose and mint. Even now in the chaos of the sacking, she held that same look.

“What does this mean for me?” The words fell like a feather from her lips, floating softly downward to the floor where her gaze was focused.

When no answer came from Tywin she turned and looked upward at him. “My lord?”

There were truthfully only two possibilities for her future and Tywin knew that.

He extended a hand down to her and stiffened when she accepted it and rose to meet his gaze. Trembling fingers wrapped around his. The entirety of her body was shaking. He took the opportunity to pull her into his chest despite the hardness of his armor. A gentle hand smoothed down the back of her hair and rested on the nape of her neck.

“What will come of me now?” She repeated, enjoying the way he embraced her. Calming to his touch, she deepened her hold on him.

“The war is over, princess.” Tywin hushed her tearful sobs, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head as her crying intensified. “The house of the dragon has fallen.”

The princess only looked into his emerald eyes when his gloved finger guided her vision upward. He knew he should not have allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Robert Baratheon would not let a Targaryen, especially the sister of Rhaegar, live peacefully. He personally saw to the death of the prince and Tywin did not intend to let him see to the princess’s end.

Knowing that no guard dared to turn their heads in their direction, Tywin drew the princess near and placed a light kiss to her lips. Their personalities in that moment were completely opposite. She was ravenous, starved of his touch and seeking validation in his arms. Her hands found the dimples of his waist, barely detectable through the armor, and rested there. If it were not for the metal, she would have dug crescents into his skin.

On the other hand, he was calm. A storm brewed in the pit of his stomach, but he did not show it.

She let out a soft breath when the cold metal sunk itself into her chest. Tywin held her still, not allowing her legs to give out. One hand held the blade firmly by his side, soaked in her blood. The other was cradling her body, holding her to his chest. An uncomfortable warmth oozed from the bodice of her dress. It added depth to the blood that already stained his breastplate.

Her lips parted to speak but nothing could come from her lungs for no air remained. Pleading questioning eyes met ones that would display sorrow and remorse if they could. It would be a cold day in hell before Tywin would admit what he had done was wrong. Every fiber of his being scolded him, but his own selfishness was not enough to start a war with a man who had just won his own.

Tywin knew that the only end for her that he would accept was the embrace of death. If not for his blade, Robert Baratheon would either have the princess killed or marry her to claim the throne. Selfishly, Tywin could not bear to see her wed to another.

She was his.

Her love, her body, her heart, and her death was his.

That was how it was supposed to be.

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 9

masterpost

Having a mission changed everything. 

Tim took full advantage of his new knowledge of the holy manuals. The first rule that he took to heart was that he was meant to be armed. Of course! It made sense.

Unfortunately, he was also not meant to take any weapon onto the field that he hadn’t trained with. Tim thought hard for a while whether or not a suburban house counted as ‘in the field’, but it seemed like he should pay lip service to Batman’s rule. So he got some sharp things that seemed interesting and spent some time throwing them at a target. They kind of looked like Batarangs, but… different. 

“I don’t think bats change shape in the next ten years or so,” Tim muttered. He gave another half hearted throw. The thing dinged off the wall below his target. “So this isn’t meant to be a bat shape. Did Batman rebrand to the Birdman and no one fixed his wiki page yet? Is this a parallel universe and not my actual future?”

It occurred to him that it might be a bird because of Robin. But come on, Robins didn’t use sharp things. Robin was a child. It was irresponsible for children to use blades. 

Tim sent another thingy into the wall. It hit with the pointy end first this time and sank an inch into the wall to the right of the target. He held his breath as it wiggled for a moment. Then it went still without falling.

“Yes!” He punched the air. Thank gosh! He was getting bored with that. It was good to be done with training. It was kind of dull.

Steps one and two were finished. He had a weapon and he had trained with it. Tim went back to his list. The next technical skill set was lock picking. That was super easy and fun! Tim enjoyed the clear diagrams and explanations. There wasn’t anything to practice with, but he thought that he had the concept down handily. He grabbed a set of lockpicks for his khaki pockets. 

He needed to do a little more to understand the patterns of the target, as well as their background. Tim considered asking Jason for any information, but he probably didn’t have any. Maybe he wasn’t very good at googling. So he just did it. The Sausage Guy was more commonly known as Benedict Orange, a name that Tim really liked and mentally stored away to use as an alias when he was a superhero. 

Anyway. Tim figured out how old the guy was, where he’d gone to school, and a bunch of other stuff like the record of his marriage ten years ago. 

“Huh,” Tim said, brows furrowed. “I didn’t find a divorce record. But he’s single now?” Mr. Orange had accounts on a lot of dating sites. He was using his engagement photo for the profile photo, with his wife cut out.

That was weird. He tried to find the wife, but there wasn’t anything more recent than 8 years ago, when she’d announced that she was quitting her job on social media. 

…Tim had kind of a bad feeling about that. 

He put a pin in it for now, but he had a small theory at the back of his mind that started with ‘I think this guy killed his wife.’

Maybe that was how the human sausage thing started. Maybe he’d killed her on impulse and then needed a way to get rid of the body. And then maybe he’d gotten a taste for it.

Tim shuddered. Okay, okay, he was for real done thinking about this! Big yucky.

Benny Orange was an office worker with a title that Tim didn’t really understand. It seemed vague to the point of uselessness, but then again, that was office work. The relevant thing was that he got home around 6 pm, and he left at 8 am.

It was 10 in the morning. Tim could get over there and toss Benny’s home before the end of the workweek if he hurried. The manual said that you should never spend more than an hour investigating an unsecured location. It also said that you should file a report or directly inform someone of where you’d be. 

That part made Tim pause for a moment before he remembered that he’d told Jason. Jason would probably check on him when he woke up, or whatever.

Tim found an equipment belt that he could wrap around his waist twice to buckle on. He put his sharp things in it. Then he untucked his shirt, because he had tucked it in out of habit and that would make it harder to access his weapons. He frowned as he did it. It just felt wrong.

He put on his shoes and got out the door. He didn’t have a lot of time to waste if he wanted to be able to take his time, so Tim hailed a taxi to cross most of the distance this time. He was grateful that Mrs. Henderson was gone and there was no chance of seeing her. Last time had been a little bit of a disaster. Needing civilian help to get into the building was not a winning move.

He had bat-approved lockpicks this time. He went to the front door and did his best. 

It turned out that maybe he should have practiced? Tim started to sweat out in the open. It felt like someone was staring at his back. He looked at the houses around. No one was at their windows or walking outside. He started jumping whenever the tall herbs in Mr. Orange's garden swayed in the breeze. He had a lot of plants.

His hands were shaking. The sweat made his shirt stick to his back. He was going to get caught and in so much trouble.

When the door finally opened, Tim offered up a thanks to Bast, because he assumed the cat goddess was more likely to be pro-breaking and entering than other gods. That logic was just based off of what he knew about Catwoman, honestly. 

The first glimpse into Benedict Orange's home was disappointingly normal. He had vinyl flooring (easy to clean!), leather furniture, and a big flat TV high up on the wall. He didn’t have enough knickknacks and there was no art. There was a wood and glass case that was full of identical, unlabeled bottles with something red in it. Hot sauce? Was he a hot sauce guy?

Tim mentally reclassified Mr. Orange further down the list of ‘people I could talk to at a cocktail party.’

The place had the same layout as Mrs. Henderson’s place, just in reverse. Tim beelined to the kitchen because.. Well.

He just did.

The counter space where Mrs. Henderson had a hot water kettle, a big stand mixer, and a toaster was mostly clear here. Mr. Orange only had one piece of cooking machinery. Tim didn’t know it. He squinted at it. It was a big shiny stainless steel thing. It had a metal tray, a wheel, and like… a nozzle. When he climbed on a chair to look down, he could see there was a little tunnel tube thing where you could put stuff inside the body of the machine.

Weird. Moving on!

He checked inside the fridge. He stared for a moment of aghast silence. There was a stack of takeout containers, a bunch of seasonings in the door, and a stack of tupperware with something red in them. 

Cautiously, Tim dug one out and opened it.

“That’s raw meat,” he said, voice high. He put the box back in and then hesitated. Maybe he should be like, taking it? Or taking a sample? To see what animal it came from?

“I’ll think about it.” Tim shut the fridge a little harder than he needed to and beat feet out of the kitchen. He started checking the other rooms. He found the master bedroom. His nose wrinkled. “I don’t think he’s restyled this since Brenda died,” Tim complained. He looked at the curtains with extreme judgment. They were so outdated it wasn’t even funny, but they also weren’t retro yet!

Oh. Wait. Belatedly, Tim remembered that it was ten years into his future. So, maybe they were retro now. Anyways, Brenda had liked the trend for chickens and roosters. There were chickens and roosters everywhere in the decor, including a cute print of what was obviously intended to be a husband and wife pair snuggling on a sofa.

His heart hurt a little. He looked at it a little too long. 

Tim took a deep breath. Then he went back to looking for evidence. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, so clearly Mr. Orange had a personal office elsewhere. There were two more rooms in the apartment.

Tim opened the next door. The room was mostly a guest bedroom, with the notable exception of a huge chest freezer and a weird long wooden bar across the room.

Tim shut the door.

The last room was the office. There was a desk, a file cabinet, and a lockbox full of women’s drivers licenses.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said under his breath. “He’s a serial killer.” He took photos and sent them to Jason immediately with the subject line “Yeah he’s a killer!!!”

Then he got down to sorting through the papers to see if there was anything else. Jason was a Robin, Tim supposed, so he’d need the evidence to show the police. It would be helpful if he just went and sorted it out now. He found warranties for the TV, the new freezer, and he presumed that ‘Meat Grinder’ meant the thing in the kitchen.

“I appreciate that he’s so organized, actually,” Tim muttered. He was hunched over digging through the bottom drawer now.

A key went into a door. 

Tim froze stock still. He slowly, silently shut the drawer. He stared at the closed door to the living room. On the other side of it, Mr. Orange unlocked and opened the front door. Tim slowly looked up, saw 12:14 on the clock, and vaguely registered that sometimes people come home on their lunch breaks.

The front door shut. There was a quiet metal sound that Tim thought was probably the chain lock. The chain lock that was too high for him to move without a chair to stand on.

Okay. Uh. He looked around for a place to hide. The best option was under the desk. Tim crawled through the legs of the chair, heart beating furiously.

He weighed his options. Wait it out and hope Mr. Orange didn’t come in?

…Seemed risky. But there was no way he was going to run out past the guy to the front door. At least, the odds that he’d get grabbed were just not good, not when he didn’t know where Mr. Orange was. 

Alright. Tim knew reality. He might not be able to get out of this on his own. At the very least, he should let Jason know what was going on so that they could add his murder to the list of charges. And maybe Jason was close by to help? Wayne Manor was awfully far away, so probably not. But it didn’t hurt to try.

He got his phone back out and was silently very glad that he had it. Jason had responded to his message. Tim didn’t take the time to read it, instead typing up a blank email with the subject line “um might need help asap :( he here”. He sent it. Then he huddled down to wait.

Noises came from the kitchen- the suction as the fridge opened. The beep of the microwave. A man’s voice saying, “What the fuck? Did I leave this here?”

His blood turned ice cold.

‘What did I do?’ Tim desperately tried to remember what he’d touched in the kitchen. Had he really moved something around? He didn’t remember anything! His heart rate went up like crazy.

The door opened. Tim flinched. His whole body started shaking uncontrollably.

Oh. No. It wasn’t this door yet. It was the door to the next room, the spare bedroom. He heard the weird squelch of the chest freezer opening. Then the closet door squeaked open. Something heavy moved around. 

“Well, it wasn’t you,” said Mr. Orange. There was a mean satisfaction in his tone. The heavy thing moved again.

Tim’s brain went a bit blank.

Who was he talking to? Was there someone in the apartment? Hidden behind something heavy?

He opened up another email. Jason hadn’t responded, so there was no way to know if he’d seen. Tim hastily typed up, “I think there’s a living hostage in the house” and sent it as the door to the office opened.

He hugged his arms around his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. Oh gosh. Oh heck. Oh no, oh no. He bit his lower lip and broke skin.

‘No. I can’t be a baby about this.’ 

It was really hard with how stiff his fingers felt. But Tim put the phone in his pocket and wrestled the sharp bird weapon out. He held it clumsily. And he watched Mr. Orange’s feet move around the room. They walked around the room. He saw the curtains move as Mr. Orange pulled them to check no one was hiding there. Then he knew that Mr. Orange was coming to his hiding spot.

Tim swallowed. He waited until Mr. Orange’s feet were in sight. He stabbed his sharp thing down through the top of Mr. Orange’s sock.

Mr. Orange bellowed and fell back against his filing cabinet. 

Tim scrambled out and ran.

He went towards the front door on automatic and nearly got there before he looked up and saw that yes, the chain lock was on. He couldn’t reach it. 

“You little shit!” Mr. Orange bellowed. He lunged at Tim. Tim barely dodged. He jabbed at him again without looking and barreled towards the door to Mrs. Henderson’s apartment. It only had a doorknob lock. He unlatched it, praying that she had not changed her ideas about the open door policy. The door handle turned.

He threw himself into the room and slammed the door shut. He clicked the little button lock.

Mr. Orange hit the door, hard. It shook. He wasn’t saying anything anymore. There was something about that which struck Tim as absolutely terrifying. Didn’t people bellow and yell when they were mad? 

He looked towards Mrs. Henderson’s door. The door shook again as Mr. Orange hit it.

Wood splintered.

If he went out Mrs. Henderson’s front door he could sprint for it. What were the odds he could outrun a grown man? If he did, wouldn’t Mr. Orange just get in his car? Potential witnesses had made Mr. Orange back off before, but he was more invested now in silencing Tim. And there was no one around. Tim had checked. 

The door splintered again. He could see Mr. Orange’s shoulder. Then a socked foot.

‘I don’t think I stabbed his foot well enough,’ some distant part of Tim’s brain catalogued. ‘He’s still moving on it. If I live past this, I’m going to commit to the next stabbing with more enthusiasm.’

He bolted for the stand where Mrs. Henderson kept her mace. He was just out of sight from Mr. Orange’s hole in the door. His heart thudded so loud. His shaking had stopped. The mace didn’t  feel heavy. 

‘If I was taller, i’d aim for the face. I can’t pull that off. I’ll aim for center mass. He may block with an arm, but theoretically his arm will be hurt enough that I’ll be able to pull back and make another swing.’

There was a catastrophic smash from inside Mr. Orange’s apartment. 

Then a “What the fuck-” that got cut off a little early. Mr. Orange sounded mad and confused. 

A thud. Two smaller thuds. A clicking. Tim wanted so badly to know what was going on. 

A hand reached through the hole in the door and unlatched the lock. 

Tim swallowed. He readied a swing. 

The door opened.

Tim took a step forward and swung Mrs. Henderson’s antique mace with maximum strength directly into the armored center mass of a guy who was NOT Mr. Orange.

“Oh my gosh,” Tim said, horrified, at the instant he connected. The guy was looking forward. He looked down too late, just as the mace hit.

There was sort of a bounce. The mace bounced back off the tummy armor without digging in or drawing blood. Half of Tim was relieved, and half was terrified that his plan had failed. 

The guy doubled over and made a sound that was a lot like GURK. He clutched at his torso with one arm and pointed a gun at Tim with the other.

Tim put his hands up.

The guy looked at Tim. Presumably. It was hard to tell through his ugly red motorcycle helmet.

“I really should have known.” 

His mechanical voice was scary.

Bad guy! 

Tim took his chances and another swing before the guy could shoot him. He expected to hear a shot as he smashed his mace again. The guy yelped and jerked backwards to avoid getting hit. Then there was a thud.

Tim peered through the door cautiously. The guy had tripped over Mr. Orange. Mr. Orange was laying on the floor facedown, arms zip tied behind his back. 

“Oh, sorry,” Tim apologized. He took a couple steps over to put the mace back away. He gave Mr. Orange a wide berth.

“I never would have guessed that the Red Hood used kids like this,” Mr. Orange said meanly. He narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Small, even for bait.”

The Red Hood guy pointed his gun at Mr. Orange’s head. Tim shrieked.

The Red guy stopped. He seemed to look at Tim again. He had some really bad words. “Alright.” He got back up to his feet and put the gun away.

Right. He’d probably just been joking or something. Tim belatedly registered the control it must have taken to not accidentally shoot while being attacked and falling over. 

Oh. Wait. It was a huge coincidence that a hero came right now, unless-

‘Is this Jason?’ Tim felt his eyebrows go all the way up. He wanted to ask a million questions. His mouth was firmly glued shut, though. Partly it was infosec. But it was also embarrassment.

[luna-loveboop]

I started playing Wind Waker! Y'all want some thoughts?

-Why is the first thing I learned how to do with Link crawling on the ground like a sneaky sneak?

-Why is the SECOND thing I figured out how to do Link sidling along a wall like a sneaky sneak?

This kid is a sneaky sneak sneak!!!!

-Why is Link instantly jumping on people's tables? Get down please sir

-Wind and his family are so sweet I love them so much- and Aryll got kidnapped noooo TT

-Tetra has shot Link from a catapult

**I'm just gonna keep editing this post and adding random thoughts as I go does that sound cool? I wanna do that @hero-of-the-wolf

-Tetra's winking at Link has my heart forever she's so cute I swear

-love the glowy blue talking rock btw yesss stalker pirate girl

-Link why do you yell so loud every time you jump this is a sneak mission I thought you'd be good at this

-the game grumps on YouTube saved my life tho bc im a coward and get way too nervous in places like the forsaken fortress and watching someone else swear through the area before I do it helps ok

-Wind is such a gremlin but he's actually so polite? Like he instantly bowed to the sword trainer and then to the guy on windfall island after paying for breaking his pots- before running out of the house at breakneck speed. He's such a sweet and polite boy you can tell he's grandmas kid- yet he's such a menace what a wild yet polite lad ridndkkfkdg

-the people of windfall island are way too judgy stop being condescending to Link he's my baby. 'The Tipsters' girls have my heart tho because they.. they... well they give you tips. Tip you off you could say

-I think the King of Red Lions just legally adopted Link

Ok so small rant section but this game is so tragic. Like the art style is so goofy and fun but it hits you so hard that these are KIDS. Link is freaking twelve and his sister was kidnapped on his birthday, leaving him to follow in hot clothes because of higher defence I'm guessing (new hero clothes are more suitable for an adventure than casual loose ones but still!). But he's literally like half the height of DOORKNOBS- he has to stand on his tiptoes anytime to open doors. He is so very small.

My mom was like 'I love this animation style - does it help with your nerves that it's lighter?' And I was like 'honestly it makes me feel more deeply the tragedy of what should be a happy childhood being torn apart' but she's used to me saying weird shit like that so it's fine

-I think we as a fandom are severely underestimating how much of a gremlin Wind waker link can be and that's saying a LOT

-I got the Wind Waker!

-WHY IS IT SO HARD TO CONTROL DONT YOU LECTURE ME ON RHYTHM IM LITERALLY A MUSICIAN WHAT THE HECK

-K learned the Wind Waker

-Ok I like got to dragon roost island on the first day and FINALLY got an empty bottle my beautiful baby where were you??

-I cleaned- like actually fully dusted and cleaned- my wii u for the first time after it was inactive for years and holy mother of improved game pad controls

-is it wierd that I'm more excited about the empty bottle than the wind waker?

. . . .

-ya know in hindsight gabon looked pretty shady. I mean he was standing in the shade but what kind of asshole stands there and tells a giant bird to throw a child in the ocean

-I think ganodonk is dumb I can't wait to get the sword and bitch slap him

-'we cANt set SaiL aGain Until you geT a GLowY thiNgy' well mr boat man sir have you considered that I realised there was most definitely a heart piece or two I forgot on windfall island and I'm doing another dungeon with three hearts? At least I got a bottle ig

-why am I trading with rats for potions this doesn't seem hygienic. I know rats are in fact very clean animals but this dungeons isn't and why do the rats want rupees anyways?

-WAIT WHY CAN LINK TALK TO RATS

-so there's this like steamy glowy pot that teleports me to the start/end of the dungeon? I'm questioning all existence in this world why is that a thing. Honestly think Twilight princess's bald teleportation chicken made more sense but whatever

. . . .

-I saved the dragon! By riding on his tail? What a boss fight that was fun. Got a shiny thingy Yayy

-So the wind waker! I learned to change the direction of the wind which is so cool and also to change whether it's night or day. Which is wayyy too much power for this kid how come no one told me he could change night and day?

-That said I love how musical Link is. Like when he looks so happy waving the baton playing to the wind it's just really cool

- Why is the God of Wind a like. Toad surfer dude. Whatever, I like him.

-So apperently there's these little dudes called fish-men who are talking fish who fill out your sea chart- I am still questioning why link can talk to animals but that's fine

-I missed out on pawprint isle before apparently, so I'm gonna do that before whatever the red lion king tells me next

-Also I love Beedle in this game so far he hasn't threatened me like the other beedles in games I've played

. . . .

-I GOT MY SECOND EMPTY BOTTLE

-Sailing through the ocean is really fun

-I went back to windfall and got a 'swift sail' that lets me go faster but I still like the blue one better

-I reached the great deku tree! He had monsters for pimples and I couldn't figure out how to get them off 'what are you doing?!?! go help him!!' IM TRYING ADOPTIVE BOAT FATHER. Turns out I needed to roll into him and not use the grappling hook which makes sense but still

-He. Grew me a leaf. A magic blowy leaf. Which is great it's an awesome gift and means a lot but the Deku tree grunted and grew a leaf for me and that's kinda wierd right?

-Reaching said leaf was a PAIN and I am very impressed with Wind Waker Link.

Hang on rant session. Bro's tiny little grandmas boy but flipping through the air to reach an unspeakably high up leaf is chill. He flipped through leafy child cannons a billion times to reach the Deku leaf and didn't get dizzy or give up even after falling. And that's saying nothing of how he picked up a sword for the first time and swings his way through EVERYTHING thrown at him. Gosh he's so cool I love this Link

-I HAVE MAGIC NOW!!!!! With like a little meter and stuff tidkkfdjfnkdjfkd I'm very excited that I have magic

-Reaching this high shelf with my path forward was a pain but I have to save and quit rn so if it puts me back at the start of this room I will be. Upset.

-It put me back at the start of the room.

-I ordered a game guide! I'm gonna try and play through with it- this'll be my first time using one. But I haven't updated for a few days bc I'm waiting on it :)

This whole post is a bunch of random thoughts jumping around which my adhd self appreciates- that said I really love that we can grab an enemies weapon and use it against them. Increases my respect for ww Link even more- when he had no weapon in the forsaken fortress he grabs a literal wooden stick from an enemy and kills it with. A big twig. Kid's brutal and does what it takes which is so crazy. Also using an enemies sword is great hehe shiny

. . . .

-Got game guide. Yayyyy

-The forbidden woods are scary but they remind me a lot of the forest temple in twilight princess. A lot. The mechanics are also very similar. I love Zelda games

-Maybe it's because the only time I've had free to play rn has been at night, but I find myself constantly thinking this game is creepy. It's so unsettling for a cartoon style- the boko babas freaking eat link! And chew on him like no!! Fisnfjskfkfk *shudder* aaaanyways I am NOT looking forward to redeads in this game but that's a later problem right?

-I figured out how to get the treasure chests from the sea!! And got a piece of heart :DDD

-Ok game guides are really helpful

-Apparently the 'warp pots' are a consistent thing- I guess that's just how Link teleports in dungeons in this game. The second pot is generally hidden a bit but then you can teleport to the beginning of the dungeon and back- then the third pot is near the end... I think. This is only my second dungeon in this game with the pots but it's going great! I'm learning a lot hehe

-I love the grappling hook so much. I can farm spoils/materials from monsters with it before I kill them and I love that. Also it makes me feel cool swinging it.

-WDYM I CAN GET FREE BLUE POTIONS FROM A KOROK USING EASILY ATTAINABLE (with the grappling hook) MATERIALS FROM BOKO BABAS THIS IS JOY THIS IS LOVE IT GIVES ME HEALTH A N D MAGIC FJDKFJFK

-Also the title screen theme and animation play around outset is very satisfying. Watched it replay three times tonight before starting the game. Time well spent.

-I appreciate the items so much. The Deku Leaf is great like I can F L Y with magic and also blow wind at enemies and make them look silly <3

-The look of Link's spoils bag has grown on me and I love it. Purple.

. . . .

-I got the boomerang!!! Oh my gosh it's so cool I love it.

-I've been trying out the switch mechanic for targeting rather than hold. It's going interestingly bc I've only ever held for targeting before. But I think I like it

-The evil flower ate Makar- the Korok I'm TRYING to save GIVE HIM BACK

-That was the prettiest boss fight ever. I couldn't even be intimidated, I don't think I've ever been more relaxed during a boss fight lol. They should make all of them purple and blue sparkly- it was legitimately beautiful.

-I finished the forbidden forest dungeon!! :DD yayyy

-Link's hopping up and down in celebration after the boss fight was so cute he's so happy!!

-Have I mentioned I'm excited about the boomerang

-Makar is so cute?!?! I love him with his little violin and- the Koroks oh my heart that was the cutest ceremony ever

. . . .

-Ok so I went around the great sea, for now avoiding the big octos I am uhh terrified interested to meet, went to a place that got 'corrupted by gannorks power' so now I'm following the pirates back to windfall island

-The pirates are stealing bombs and I think this is illegal.

-My girl Tetra's here!! :D also doing illegal stuff! And Link is just watching them rob the bomb shop lol these cutscenes are the best sometimes also I love the pirate banter

-Tetras little smile and wink when she saw Link was so cute I love her. Also the little hints that she was concerned about his island and not just treasure?? Sweet

-I stole the bombs that the pirates stole from the pirates. And getting there was a PAIN with swinging on the ropes the tiny pirate (Niko) made Link do

-TETRA is a STALKER she was watching Link through the glowy rock thingy- probably cause he was just sneaking around watching her rob a shop but still that thing scares me sometimes when her voice just comes screaming out of it

-Btw why do the pirates want the god pearl thingy anyways? Just cause it's really shiny orrr

-ok we're headed to outset! I'm so excited to get back to Link's home hehe. Also I think Tetra just dared Link to a race bc she was like 'we'll get there first we still have bombs' so yeah anyways she's spending the night here tho so I'm sure it'll be fine.

-I don't like the great sea as much when it's raining and thunderstorming all over :/ I hope it doesn't stay like this? Because that would suck

-I got sucked into a cyclone and was panicking cause it threw me across the great sea BUT then it threw me onto outset!! :D so that was uhh. Handy I guess.

-Ohhh ok so like. time is frozen from ganad's current curse, which means it's gonna stay night for right now, so tetra won't be coming in time to get the treasure from the god dude first. Nice.

-The Lion King just kindly told Link to visit his family and chill for a second and check on his island?? Sobbing yes thank you sir

-Grandma's sick oh no this is the saddest thing I've ever seen ima cry. I healed her with a fairy but she was so sad link and aryll were gone im- and then grandma blamed herself for not being there for them like no it's literally cold and rainy all the time it's frozen right now you have every right to get sick- and then she made Link soup and she'll remake it for him which is great and I LOVE LINKS GRANDMA SO MUCH it was so sad she was sick I'm glad I could heal her :))

-Link smiled and nodded so enthusiastically when Grandma told him to stay out of trouble/stay safe like Link you are a liar I just watched you steal from pirates

-I sparred with Orca and I like him. It's cool how he trains Link on his home Island with like formal training because Link definitely needs it with what he's facing

-Controlled a seagull for the first time. That was fun they can fly for such a long time like. Forever?? Idk I eventually stopped

. . . .

-Ok so I talked wait no. The king of red lions talked with this guy who's a god named Jabun (I think that's how it's spelled I'll check) and he gave us a THIRD glowy thingy. I'll give more thoughts on that conversation later I gotta look up the translation. The sea is back to being sunny :))

-I spent a bit just sailing around. I need to place the shiny pearl thingies from the gods in special places marked on the map to 'reveal the place where my courage will be tested' or whatever

-I have found several great fairies and gotten my rupees and wallets upgraded twice. I like the fairies in this game.

-I FOUGHT A BIG OCTO I'M SO PROUD

-it was scary.

-But my magic meter has been doubled!!! :D *slaps wind waker link* this bad boy can fit so much magic and blessings inside of him

-I've placed two of the fancy shiny orbs. Its wierd... I put them in old looking statues and they glow. That's fine I guess.

-the fishmen are my best friends. Kind of. Every square on the map I go to one is there and they'll give me lil hints and tips while they fill out my map. Nice guys.

-beedle sent me a beedle chart! :D which. Is a map of where his shop appears so handy!

-there's these maps called 'treasure charts' everywhere that mark places in the sea with rings of glowing light that I can bring up treasure from. Generally a purple rupee but a lot of times other things :)

-there's this one square with beedles shop ship that has an empty bottle and heart piece and treasure chart for sale 00 I got the empty bottle immediately ofc (now I have three!!) and saved up the money and got the rest :) it was all like. Five to nine hundred rupees each yeesh

-Link sure does rely on maps and charts a lot in this game

. . . .

-THE GODS JUST FURKIN YEETED LINK ACROSS THE BIG BLUE OCEAN WHAT THE SHELL WAS THAT

?!?!?!?!

Ok (storytime) so I was placing the last pearl of the gods that I've been collecting in the ancient statue and a cutscene starts right?

So Link places Farore's pearl and the ancient statue starts glowing. and Link kinda startles and runs away, but then he comes back and the statue EXPLODES with light and Link goes FLYING like Farore just bitch slapped Link with power across the ocean WHY?!?!

And so you have this big dramatic cutscene where the ancient statues become really pretty and form a map of the triforce on the ocean and a big freaking TOWER comes rising out of the water and it's really cool- and then at the end Link SPLATS INTO THE FREAKING TOWER AFTER BEING SENT FLYING INTO IT LIKE GIVE THE KID A BREAK ALREADY

Of all the things I was expecting in wind waker, a cutscene of Link being sent hurtling across the world to slam face first into the literal 'tower of the gods' was not it. like forget a concussion how is Link ALIVE?!?!

-k so anyways. I'm good. Wasn't expecting that. This 'tower of the gods' is the place the King of red lions keeps telling Link he'll be tested/have to prove himself to the gods as a hero or something

-Oooo this dungeon seems cool so far! Riding in, it's just risen out of the ocean, so I'm entering the dungeon on my boat dad

-so it's like we can do it together! Not really, but King Red is how I get around the first bit at least. It's crazy how Link doesn't have a companion for in dungeons. Boat dude has just been dropping Link off at dungeons like a kid at school.

-So the tides come in and out of this dungeon. The floor will be filled with water when it's up and I'm only able to walk when tide is low and the waters gone. This is dangerous because Link, although he can survive being yeeted across the sea, can in fact drown.

-also I've just realised I haven't died so far in this game yet!! Go me :D

[donustellaron]

All Grown up

Okay so this is my first published fic, this one's inspired by a Sukuna bot (shockingly), so no warnings honestly? Just pure fluff and love<33. This is a gojo x reader x geto, oh also male reader cuz I'm a guy and gay. Also this is kind of a sorcerer thingy but its not like explicitly mentioned.

When Sukuna's servants brought him a small child as food he decided to give the kid some time to grow before eating him, what he didn't expect was for him to get attached to the kid. Now the kid was 11 and practically his son.

Sukuna sighed, you were gonna be the death of him, you had just asked to go meet the Gojo clan's kid, Satoru Gojo. After a bit of thinking Sukuna replied, "Fine, go see this brat of theirs, maybe it'll amuse me." With Sukuna's permission, you ran off to go find the boy. Sukuna sighed again, he hoped you didn't get into any trouble, not because he cared for you...he just didn't want any inconveniences. So when you came back holding hands with the young Satoru Gojo he was pleasantly surprised, "Why do you have him with you?" he spoke in a confused and irritated tone. "Oh! Suku-nii this is Satoru Gojo, Satoru-chan this is my caretaker Sukuna," you exclaimed excitedly, "Suku-nii I wanted to play with Satoru-chan but his guards didn't let us leave the mansion so we snuck out!!" Sukuna's expression was a mix of curiosity, annoyance, and mild amusement. "So you snuck out just to play with this one?" You responded eagerly, "Satoru-chan is lonely so this'll be his first time playing!! We'll have tons of fun!!" It was clear to Sukuna that you were happy with having a playmate, "How adorable..." He muttered under his breath. "Well go ahead and play." Hearing that you grabbed Satoru's hand and ran off to play in Sukuna's palace.

Later that night the two kids were exhausted from all their shenanigans, Satoru especially had fun, he'd smiled more that evening than in his life. "By the way, I'm glad you brought me here." He grinned, thinking about how his parents were probably running wild. Suddenly you were hit with a great idea, you grabbed Satoru's hand again and ran to your Suku-nii.

Sukuna was having tea with Uraume when he sensed the cursed energy of the Gojo kid, he turned to the door, his face expressionless as you barged in. "SUKU-NI!!!!" You paused to take a breather, "Can Satoru-chan stay the night?? Please???" Sukuna pauses, considering your request.

Meanwhile, Uraume looks at all of you confused, soon enough Sukuna speaks, "Okay... fine. The brat can stay the night if he doesn't make a mess and behaves himself." He holds back laughter at Uraume's shocked face. You squeal in happiness and thank him. "Thank you thank you thank you!!!" And again, off you go with the Gojo kid.

Once it's time to sleep you and Satoru end up talking for hours until you both pass out in your pillow fort.

5 years later, you and Satoru are now 16, in terms of appearance you both have matured and are much taller and stronger than before, yet one thing remains unchanged: your unwavering bond and love for one another. You've spent these past 5 years together, enjoying a wide variety of activities and learning more about the world and each other with every passing day. Satoru's relationship with Sukuna is better now, he's still called a brat but in an affectionate way, when they return from school they always greet Sukuna and then head off to your room to hang out.

A year later they both meet another boy: Suguru Geto, you love him dearly and so does Satoru. A year later you, Satoru, and Suguru have formed an inseparable bond. The three of you are now 17, having grown closer to each other. At one point they end up losing their virginities to each other, it's clear to Sukuna that they are in love. Even so, he and Uraume are always ready to comfort you in your relationship woes.

Soon you're 28 and at your wedding, today's the day you get married to your amazing boyfriends. When Sukuna walks you down the aisle you can't help but cry, and so does he, his little kid grew up into a formidable man. After the ceremony you find him and Uraume talking to your husbands, you walk over and hug Sukuna, a faint smile on his face and a wide smile on yours, "Suku-nii..." His heart warms at the nickname you gave him all those years ago, he holds you tightly. He had witnessed your growth and development over the years, watching your love and devotion to your husbands. He calls your name and you look up at him, "Isn't this a lovely occasion? No need for tears kid, it warms my heart to see you and your beloveds bound in matrimony." You chuckle at his choice of words, "Suku-nii, thank you for taking care of me and letting me meet Satoru-chan and Suguru-chan all those years ago, thank you...Dad" Sukuna chokes up and feels tears welling in his eyes. He hugs you tightly, and you smile, you love your dad dearly. (and Uraume)

AHHH OMG. I'm ngl I almost cried during the wedding part....anyways I really love how this turned out !! And I hope you do too :))

[lazyalani]

| Xiao × [F!Reader]

| Same old empty feeling

| angst, hurt no comfort, awakening xiao's death issues again, reader just wants him to be happy, character death (reader), xiao does love you, the traveller is clueless and innocent, the traveller gets caught up in your angst, xiao does not like the traveller romantically, go with the flow for the sake of the plot, xiao needs a hug, insecure thoughts, xiao is a bit oblivious, xiao breaks down

| Summary: In which she loved him in every shape despite her insecurities clouding her, and he loved her in every way despite drowning in his.

Alternate Ending

| Genshin Impact Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

Staring at the bottom of your glass,

"Xiao!" You came rushing to your balcony, holding a tray contaning two plates and two bowls.

Xiao, General Alatus, the Conquerer of Demons, an Adeptus, the honorable Yaksha, a protector of Liyue, one with so many titles, but only Xiao to you.

He stands up straight and turns to you from leaning his elbows on the railings. "How many times have I told you to stop running?" He sighs and sits on his cushion, watching you put down your dinners on the table infront of him.

hoping one day you'll make a dream last

You smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't help him, I'm just really happy to see you." You sat down and grabbed your utensils.

"You see me everyday." He murmurs and grabs his as well.

"Every dinner." You correct him. With his duties that come with his numerous titles, it's impossible for him to visit you in the day, as he says.

"You still see me..." He tries to counter.

You shake your head with a smile. "It's fine though, I'm thankful you can even fit me in your 'busy' schedule, oh mighty Adeptus Xiao."

But dreams come slow

He gives you a pointed look and shoves a tofu in his mouth. "Stop that."

You stuck out your tongue at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He's fast when he reaches out and takes two out of three of your favorite food on your meal.

You gasp in offence. "Wha-- How dare you! Giving me one of your scary face thingy look you give to my fellow 'mortals' and 'humans' is one thing but taking my food is another!"

He simply continues to eat, ignoring your 'threats'.

and you go so fast

"You! Me! Right here! Right now!"

Xiao doesn't smile or laugh, but he's happy, you think. If people ask you how you knew, it's simple really.

Because he doesn't have those burdened frowns, because his face is lighter when you talk to him like this. When you talk to him as Xiao. When you talk to him as your friend.

When you talk to him with like you're the only people in the world right now.

You see when you close your eyes,

You wall throught the streets of Liyue with a smile, walking excitedly towards the certain shop you've been eyeing.

You opened the door with a ding, the metal, traditional Liyue ornaments clinking together. "Goodmorning, Mrs. Jiaxu." You greet the middle aged jeweler.

"Goodmorning, [Name] dear, how are you?" She greets back, her voice as gentle as ever. You've known her since you were a child, your parents often bringing you here to play with her children.

maybe one day, you'll understand why

"I'm doing fine, umm... could I possibly have my order today? It's fine if you haven't finished it yet though, I'm sorry for the sudden request." You smiled apologetically.

She waves it off, "It's alright, my dear. Infact, your order is almost done, could you wait for a few more minutes?"

You nodded, eager. "Ofcourse!" You answer and she goes out in the back.

You had ordered a custom made bracelet for you and Xiao. You've been friends for 2 years now, and you think it would be cute to get matching bracelets now, working on the designs for almost a week to fit both you and him. It was a hard pick considering Xiao doesn't really fit the cute type or the overly designed one. You had to make it simple, minimal, but also describing him and you. You made yours simple but descriptive too, since he was going to get yours and you were going to get his.

A bracelet exchange, you liked being sentimental at times.

everything you touch surely dies

You and Xiao only meet during your dinner time in these 2 years, him leaving after eating. And to be honest, it's the reason why you had started to eat more, because you make so much food on purpose so he would stay and you could talk more. You didn't really know how you managed to get him to be friends with you, much less come to you to eat dinner everyday, but you couldn't care less either. As long as you get to meet him, everything's fine.

You admit it was a lot of work trying to get him to talk to you, especially to meet you, but it was worth it, afterall. You were glad you somehow have this stubborn, talkative illness around him.

You can't help but admit you've grown to love him too.

But you only need the light when it's burning low,

You can't help but wonder either, could he possibly return the same?

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow,

Your eyes roamed around everything, trying to entertain yourself while waiting.

Liyue really is beautiful, huh, you thought, staring at the beautiful scenery of people talking and laughing through the glass windows. Whether it'd be customers and vendors, children and parents, they were all happy, and with the sight of Liyue's traditional colors and the sky, you couldn't help but think everything was perfect.

Your eyes widened as you unconciously took a step back.

Only know you love her when you let her go

Was it from shock? From what shock? Seeing Xiao roaming in the streets during the day?

Or seeing him with another person?

You know that person, ofcourse, almost everyone does. The Traveller. The famous traveller who has helped so many people, thousand, millions of people.

The overwhelming thoughts and questions clouded your head, deflating your happy figure as you stare at him so casually talking to the traveller, roaming around the streets in broad daylight.

Your heart hurts, for some reason. Were you too clingy for getting upset over seeing him talking to someone else? Maybe, but you couldn't help it. Seeing him talk so casually to someone that isn't you makes your thoughts race against each other.

It hurts. Seeing him talk to someone casually. Seeing him walking in the streets with them. Seeing him eating street food with them. Seeing him keep his gaze on them. Seeing him without his frown and heavy features he usually gives to everyone. Seeing him have his lighter face with someone that isn't you.

Seeing him having the same things he has with you.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low,

You forced yourself to lower your head, staring at the ground to avoid seeing them.

How would you even compete with them?

You, who's only a normal civillian, citizen of Liyue. You, who can only talk to him about your day and nothing too interesting for him to relate to. You, who can only give him little things. You, who barely even speaks to other people and only gets talkative around him. You, who only has her parents, and the same friends she has from her childhood, no one, nothing new. You, who despite being friends with him for 2 years, can only even see him at dinner.

You, who he only talks to for no longer than 2 hours.

And the Traveller, who's already been declared as a nation's honorary knight. The traveller, who has many connections. The traveller, who's naturally kind and helpful. The traveller, who has this alluring, natural charisma around them. The traveller, who unknowingly draws people in. The traveller who's brave and strong. The traveller, who can tell Xiao more interesting stories with their adventures.

The traveller, who is intelligent and charming.

Only hate the road when you're missing home,

You go home carrying the two boxes containing both of your custom breacelets, and carrying the dejected and unhappy look on your face.

You stare at the green and white boxes on your table, thinking about whether to prepare dinner for both of you or not. But you shake your head and think you would be too petty if you didn't. You shouldn't be mad.

It's not like you're in a relationship with him anyway.

Night came and you cooked dinner for both of you, still cased in the thoughts of earlier and keep pushing away the unhappy thoughts.

You bring the tray over to the balcony, the usual set up of the table, cushions, the fairy lights, the blankets, and extra pillows still around. It's always been that way since you and Xiao came to this routine. You're thankful to have a bigger than normal sized balcony, extending the roof so that rain wouldn't touch anything when it's in weather.

You stared at the dark sky being illuminated by the stars, waiting for Xiao. He loved your balcony, it was high up because you live in an apartment, apart from your parents because of work, and it had a complete, beautiful view of the sky above and liyue below. It's the reason why you specifically chose this one, honestly. You grew to love it more when Xiao said it was his favorite thing in your home.

You keep waiting for him when you notice a piece of paper trying to escape with the wind under your flower pot.

You take the note and immediately feel something bad upon holding it. You already had an idea what it would say.

You just kept hoping it wasn't it.

"I can't come tonight, busy. Sorry, have

a great dinner.

- Xiao"

Only know you love her when you let her go

Unconciously, a continous stream of tears fall down from your eyes as you let go of the note and lean on your hand, covering your eyes and rubbing your forehead.

You think you're being dramatic and sensitive, but the tears and aching won't stop. Why? Was it because you love him? Yes.

Was is because you were afraid of being replaced? Definitely.

For the first time, Xiao couldn't come.

For the first time, seeing each other during dinner isn't enough anymore.

For the first time, everything you shared because an insecurity.

And the thought of him being 'busy' with another person leaves you defeated and crying on the balcony you both love so much.

You were so caged in your thoughts and insecurities that you didn't notice someone coming from behind.

It all happened so fast, so stealthily.

You felt a very short, sharp pang of pain on your nape and you fell on your table, crashing to the ground unconcious.

Never to wake up again.

Staring at the ceiling in the dark,

＝★

Xiao sighs as he walked down the streets with the traveller and Paimon who's running her mouth off again, invisibly awkward.

As Paimon runs over to a food booth, the traveller sighs with him. "So you're telling me, that you approached me, forced yourself to talk and walk with me earlier and now, now, because you didn't know what to give her?"

Xiao sighs again and rubs his neck, feeling a little embarassed. "Didn't know who to ask..."

"So you chose me? Of all people, Xiao." They say, feeling frustrated.

"You have people around you everytime..."

"Bu I don't like like them!"

"...."

The traveller closes their eyes for a second and gives in, knowing this is once in a blue moon. "Fine, fine, but don't blame me if she doesn't like it. I don't know much about these things either."

Xiao only nodded. "Let's hurry." He demands. He wants to give it before midnight, you'll be awake because you always stay up late, but he wants to make it up to you. He knew you probably wouldn't be upset, you're always happy, afterall, but he doesn't want to risk it.

"Hey! You're the one asking for help here!"

Xiao didn't want to ask for help. He swear he didn't at all, but he doesn't know about these type of things. He doesn't know a thing about romance but he isn't stupid to not recognize and acknowledge how happy he is when he is in your presence. He doesn't know if he should call it love but there's no harm in doing so if he wants and needs to be by your side, to listen to your rants, to tolerate your teasing, and have peaceful and comfortable nights with you.

Xiao definitely isn't the type to be affectionate and loving, but who could blame him for wanting and needing the affection of the person who makes him happy. Makes him comfortable, understands him, cares for him, respects his boundaries.

How could he not fall for someone who makes him feel like a worthy person?

How could he not develop such feelings for someone who cares for him like that?

Deep inside, he's always longed for someone's care like this. Deep inside, he's just too afraid of getting hurt and hurting others. Deep inside that unapproachable, brave, strong, and mighty adeptus mask, both the literal and the facade, he just seeks comfort and peace. Physical peace, mental peace, inner peace.

As someone who's been through a lot, Xiao is truly thankful he found you, or rather, you found him.

And he wants to share those lovely thoughts of you to you tonight. So you know how important you are to him. How much happiness you've brought to him, even if he doesn't show it often. He wants to show and share to you the same happiness you taught him. If you would let him.

To be honest, Xiao doesn't know what to do if you don't return his feelings and reject him. Maybe he would cower and stay away, just admiring and protecting you from afar. Or maybe he would remain friends with you and be content with what you want and can give him.

But no matter what your response is, he knows and wants to keep having these feelings for you.

He wants to keep feeling for you.

Because his feelings for you are peaceful and comforting.

He wants this feeling to stay. To keep him at bay when he starts losing it. To keep him from those ugly, drowning thoughts.

So now he stands infront of your apartment, a slightly big box, a gift, the box is colored green, from its body to its lid, in hand, tied with a dark blue ribbon, a white rose symbolizing you slilped into the center along with the ribbon.

However, his feeling of nervousness and excitement were replaced by an unknown dread as he walks closer to your building.

His heart races fast as he sees the flower pots near your side of the cushion broken and almost hanging.

But his heart drops when he sees a hand, your hand, with the makeshift red ring from a yarn on your middle finger you made during dinner a month ago, almost hanging of the balcony beside the pots.

He quickly teleports inside your apartment in panic.

His eyes widened at the sight of your figure before him.

Crashed room, thrashed things, broken plates, bowls, cups, vases, wrecked tables, pierced cushions, sofas, and pillows. The table you onced shared with each broken, spilled food, soup, and drinks with he assumes was supposed to be yours and his dinner.

Your body laying in a pool of your own blood.

same old empty feeling in your heart

He wants to vomit.

His mind in a haze, he's getting dizzy.

He drops the gift.

Everything is spinning, his ears are ringing as he shakily, slowly, carefully moves towards your body, ignoring everything, ignoring your blood seeping into his hands, his feet, his clothes, his everything.

He notices all of the blood came from your nape. He carefully, slowly, shakily carries you inside, leaning his back at the bottom of your couch, hugging your body close.

His eyes are wide, shaking, red, almost bulging out. He keeps releasing heavy, deep, and continous pants, breaths.

He shaky hand brushes your hair from your face, staring at your beautiful face, ignoring your blood that sticked in his hand to your face.

His other hand is still supporting your nape, keeping it still, and covering it, so blood doesn't come out anymore, he thinks.

But then he takes on look at your face again and is hit by an invisible meteor.

You're not breathing.

You're so pale.

You're limp in his arms.

Why?

Oh.

'Cause love comes slow,

Xiao inhales with so much force, letting out a loud noise like he held his breath for a long time.

As air visits his lungs once more, his eyes let outstreams of tears.

He panics and his trembling hand touches your face and hands and feet and---

How did this happen?

When did this happen?

Oh archons,

Why did this happen?

What went wrong? He was supposed to give his gift to you--- his gift. His gift. Where is his gift? He looks around in panic and sees it dropped not too far away.

It was on the ground, the lid was opened and the gift came out.

A diary.

His diary. You told him to write his thoughts and feelings, you said it would help, so he did. So he wanted to confess using his diary. He wanted you to see how much he loved you from his writings.

A sharp pain pricked his brain.

Oh right, he left you alone for hours.

He didn't come to you. Then someone, or people, came in and...

He didn't come and because of that you..

He wasn't there to protect you, and now you're....

Dead?

and it goes so fast

Like his yaksha friends? Like the people he cared about?

Like the people he killed?

He almost screamed at the sharp pain that went throught his heart.

How could he let this happen? How could he let someone precious dies again? How could he not protect you?

It's his fault. It echoes in his mind.

Well, you see her when you fall asleep,

Then he notices something on the table of your couch. There were two boxes and a big note.

"I love you, Xiao. I've loved you for a long time now, I don't want thesd bracelets to be just friendship bracelets, I want these to be a symbol of our feelings, if you'll have me.

- Love, [Name]"

Xiao lets himself break.

But never to touch,

He bawls his eyes out and let out broken noises, his trembling hands touching your face once again, cupping your cheek and kissing your forehead repeatly. He didn't want to let go of you, not yet.

Not ever.

So please don't go. Pleasepleaseplease-

"B-beautiful." He manages to say, forces it out. "Y-you're always beautiful..." He means it, inside out, even if your own blood is now scattered against your face, by his bloodied hands.

and never to keep

Xiao's eyes looses their light once again.

Empty, once again.

Lifeless, once again.

He's so tired, he thinks, he feels.

So he closes his eyes and hopes when he wakes up, you'll be here by his side again, or he'll be at yours.

He wishes he spent more time with you.

He wishes he stayes more than 2 hours.

He wishes he wasn't so caught in his insecurities.

'Cause you loved her too much,

He didn't just see you during dinner, he sees you almost every second, watching you from afar, protecting you, admiring you.

He wishes he wasn't afraid of his own karmic debt.

He wishes he couldn't been stronger to fight away those cowardly thoughts.

He wishes he could've realized everything earlier.

He wishes he wasn't cursed by this chain that binds him to death and loneliness.

He hugs your body as close as it can be, hoping time goes slow. So he could apoogize more. So he could thank you more. So he could say he loves you. So he could feel you more.

So he could hug you for the very last time.

and you dived too deep

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.