#double mechanical seals | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

Text

Come After Dark [Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: You swallow your nerves and take Loki up on his seductive invitation. (w/c 3.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Mild somnophillia. Language. Mild angst to fluff. Sub(ish) Loki.

The hair on your arms felt like needles, every ghostlike pricking shiver vibrating invisible strands. Was it cold tonight? You couldn’t tell. Heat thumping low in your belly blossomed as you made your way through the midnight gloom of the tower. Shadows danced the walls, stretching and fading in haunting rhythm. Come after dark, he’d said.

You shivered again, recalling the way his breath had caressed your jaw, a palm spread on his chest against porcelain shirt buttons. His questioning stare had moved from your hand to your eyes, his brows a line of reluctant, smouldering resignation. He had left you in that hallway, music beating a solid bass through the wall against your spine. The words that had circled in your mind ever since fluttered back around the endless loop.

I will cease my wooing of you, since that is what you wish, he had murmured, as he unfurled your fingers from his chest. Loki then raised your knuckles to his lips. Parted, only slightly. But if you decide you want this, whenever you want this, he’d whispered against the skin. Come after dark.

That had been days ago. A week? Time had slowed and sped up in frightening synchronicity since that brief conversation. You and he had been dancing around your flirtations for months, but in each moment when he swooped gently to kiss you, to let his hands wander to your own, to break the seal of workplace propriety – you bailed.

His absence made everything come in bright clarity. In deepest reds and brightest blues you saw for the first time how much more he was than a distraction, than something to be feared in awe from a distance. Like a predator behind glass. Fear. What was it you were afraid of? Of how much you want him. Of how how has the power to elevate or decimate in the palm of his-

You shook the thought away, seeing the potted plant that signalled the end of the corridor come into view. One more turn.

Silent breaths rose and fell as his door suddenly loomed. It stretched up into nothingness, its out of place mahogany intricacies making you smile in the eerie darkness. Lifting a fist to knock, you paused. A feeling rose that was difficult to place. The ornate brass knob was cool to the touch, but even from one small twist it was easy to tell it was - Come after dark, -unlocked.

You held your breath, twisting on the exhale. There was a soft click as the mechanism relented, a cool brush of air wafting against heated cheeks. The goosebumps on your forearms bristled.

A feeling of dread suddenly descended, sinking through the excited trepidation. What if he didn’t mean it? What if, I’m just breaking into his room-

You recalled the gleam of his darkened eyes, the blue of his irises barely visible at the rims of wide pupils. The hum of his voice as he enunciated each word with painfully laden precision, as thick as double cream; Come after dark,

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. As your eyes adjusted to a deeper darkness, the room’s layout came into view. A short corridor which was the mark of all your accommodations led into a living area. You could see the elegant curves of an ostentatious sofa, the rise of a fireplace and the shadowy reflection of a mirror glinting above. Floor length curtains swept around the corner windows. Of course Loki has the corner apartment, you mulled, noticing dinner-plate sized vegetation poked around the corner from some kind of plant. Your fingers reaching to absent-mindedly rub the waxy leaves as you padded over luxurious carpet. White carpet. Your bare feet sank into the pile, each cushioned step landing on the heel making your breaths quicken as you worked closer to the bedroom. The door was open, just a crack. After this, there was no turning back. You would never be the same. You could tell. Good, you thought; feeling your heart thunder. Like an astral projection, you felt your fingers slide around the edge of the door, peeking inside. A wave of adrenaline soared up your body like a tide; animalistic energy bursting new heat from every pore. There he was.

Spread like a sculpture; a living Bernini glowing in soft cracks of moonlight glistening on his skin. One long thigh rested open atop twisted sheets, an arm outstretched on the empty side of the bed reaching for an invisible lover. The curves of his muscles rose and fell along each line of his body, white sheets painted teasingly across the sharp dents of his hips. His obliques clenched with each soft breath, perfect face turned towards the shards of moonbeam bathing him in ethereal light. Dark curls lay spread against the pillow, like splatters of oil on canvas, winding across the cotton and the broad flat of his pale shoulders. Your mouth felt dry, and your eyes. You realised you hadn’t blinked in about thirty seconds. He looked so peaceful, it would be a shame to- Oh-

Your eyes fell on his crotch as he sifted within dreams, something long and thick nudging horizontal upwards against the sheets.

Your breath hitched as a well of saliva rose in your mouth, moistening your lips. You would be lying if you hadn’t imagined him thrusting his fist against that huge cock in these very rooms while he moaned your name, fuelling your forbidden fantasies. On the edge of this very bed, by all accounts. He was always a gentleman in your presence, something you had wished many times he would abandon to urge you to take the leap.

But after all, here you were. Here I am. His brow furrowed, a light moan snaking from his slumbering throat. Beneath your pyjama shorts, the slick of arousal that had been growing since you had left your own apartment warmed. Slipping.

You squeezed around the door, tentatively making your way to the empty side of the bed. Now what, you thought, letting your eyes roam over his sprawled form as you resisted the urge to jump on him...do I wake him, should I- “-Loki?” you whispered, voice shaking. Your fingertips traced the thick cotton rumpled at the bed’s edge. His breaths continued to slowly rise and fall, the erotically devastating fan of dark lashes against his skin, undisturbed. “Loki?” you repeated, resting on the side of the mattress, “Mmm...” he mumbled groggily, frowning in his slumber. He sighed, outstretched fingers twitching. You smiled, watching the strong veins in his forearms tense before relaxing into smooth surrender.

Following the delicate lines of the summer duvet draped lazily across his torso, you let your eyes track down the folds. It ran diagonal, exposing the taut carving of violent muscle rippling down his chest, his stomach. The duvet rested teasingly over his hips, an exposed leg hanging open sluttishly as the other stretched down to the end of the ornate bed-frame. “Lo-kii…” you cooed seductively, shuffling closer.

You waited. He didn’t stir. You frowned.

Beneath the duvet, the god’s swollen cock twitched against the cotton.

Your eyes ran up the lines of muscle contoured in the moonlight, up the shadow of his cheekbones to his peaceful brow. A thin line formed between his eyebrows, softening. Without realising it, your outstretched fingers ghosted down the centre of his abdomen, cool skin making heated tips tingle. You edged closer on your knees, making the firm mattress bounce slightly. But still, he did not stir. Nerves burst in stars deep in your belly, the gravity of your audacity making you dizzy as you fought to hold your nerve.

Cautiously, you lowered to his flat stomach, placing a kiss just above his naval. A shaking gasp escaped your nostrils, the electric eroticism of his energy humming from every inch of his skin as you moved lower. Fine hair coating down from his naval grazed your chin, its feathery softness a stark reminder of the warm heart beating beneath his stoic exterior. You paused on the dip of his adonis belt, frozen hunched in place as he stirred. The pillows rustled, followed by a soft thump as his cheek fell to the other side.

“Don’t s-stop…” he softly slurred, hips nudging upwards beneath the sheet. Outstretched fingers gripped the sheet to your side in a loose fist, the fingernails catching on cotton before relaxing.

Oh, god.

Your trembling digits wrapped around the blanket’s tip, pulling down. And all the time, your eyes never left his moon-drunk face. Tentatively you ran your fingernails lightly over the taut skin of his ribs. Shivers rose in the muscle beneath your careful touch as the sheet was brushed aside below. You let the heel of your palm search in half-darkness for the root of his subconscious desire.

It didn’t need to search far. Loki moaned softly, his lips parting with a puff of air. A rogue strand of hair buffeted from his face as you clenched around nothing, the wetness between your legs wild and unstoppable, his gentle whoreish sounds making your inner-beast writhe. The god’s breaths were a roar in the suffocating silence. “Please,” he breathed in dreams. It floated, lingering like perfume. Or maybe it was your imagination. Reluctantly, your palm left the velvet skin of his cock and planted on the farthest side of his body. You loomed over him. He’s like my prey, thought reverently; holding back a giggle. Like a virgin and a vampire, about to be sucked dr-

The smile faded, replaced by something stronger than the fear of him waking and recoiling in disgust. That this had all been a misunderstanding. That his sultry flirtations and invitations and unlocked door were just coincidences. Nothing more. Tilting your head, you bit your bottom lip and watched as his light frown returned. He squirmed in slumber, ropes of shoulder muscle shifting against the pillows. You allowed yourself to finish the thought, -Sucked dry.

Taking a deep breath, you dipped down and covered the head of his majestic cock carefully with your mouth. It was warm, the round tip resting on your tongue, the jolt of his thigh splayed to the side not going unnoticed as you let your slick lips slide against him. He’s been hard for a while, you pondered, savouring the settling of his sex inside your mouth. Where he belongs. A thick vein pulsed against your tongue. Your mind crackled with energy, every nerve screaming to shake him awake and fuck him into the headboard between messy kisses and half-formed words. “Mmmm...ye-shs, p-please -m-more…” Loki exhaled groggily. You wondered if he was dreaming of you. Muffled, his lashes fluttered with pleasure beneath shuttered lids. The thump of your heart was deafening as you focused on the taste of him filling your mouth. The sweetness of his velvet skin stretched over unforgiving muscle, fresh and deep like autumn pine. Plump veins slid further down the flat of your tongue as you grew braver, each ridge that bumped against the muscle lovingly caressed. The creases of your mouth cracked slowly as you slid him further inside. And it suddenly dawned on you, how large he truly was. The scent of his shaft filled your nostrils as you lapped softly at the tip, enjoying each stolen moment of second-hand pleasure. Your pussy throbbed, blood pumping and heating the mess between your legs. Loki whined softly, hips beginning to roll in dream-soaked waves. You wrapped your fingers one by one around the thickness of him, brow furrowing as you felt the weight of his cock twitch in your grip. Slowly, you drew your tongue over the sensitive frenulum, feeling his hips shudder as you licked to the leaking tip.

“You came…” a gravelled voice shifted in the darkness, making you jump. Your head snapped towards him, fearful eyes wide. A mischievous smile tugged at his beautiful lips, shadows cast by the moonlight carving deep grooves beneath his cheekbones. “Quite the one for drama after all, aren’t we, little fox?” The words were mumbled coyly, raising an eyebrow as you sat upright. Loki’s voice was husky with something, but it wasn’t sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to dramatically whip the remaining duvet from his body and letting it sprawl to the floor.

“I thought you might enjoy the illusion of voyeurism,” he smiled, rubbing a flat palm on the mattress beside him. “As usual, it seems, I was correct.” “You were awake?” you scoffed, admitting to yourself that the desired effect was likely lost by the wandering of your hungry eyes over his unbearably naked form. With sudden clarity, you realised his hard manhood was still wrapped in the punishing grip of your fingers. “Mmmm,” he hummed, smile wider now with the mocking echo of his slumbering moans. His stare dropped in stages down your body, across every line of your form kneeling on his bed in the moonslick gloom. If he was searching for resistance, he would find none. “I’m sorry if I-”

Before the final words could form on your tongue, Loki was kneeling in front of you. His hips pressed flush to your stomach, those long fingers that had brushed your own so many times beneath the conference table digging into the small of your back. They sank lower, cupping your ass with a ragged groan from his throat. “Enough,” he growled. But it wasn’t a threat. It was a plea. Loki buried his face in your neck, kissing ravenously up the curve towards the angle of your jaw as your nails dragged down his chiselled abdomen. The god’s breath was hot, decadent.

Both of you raised on your knees, a tangled primal mess of hair and fingers and teeth and tongue as the past burned. Whispers of desire fluttered in the sliver of air between you as Loki’s hands spread against your ass-cheeks, down the backs your thighs. He rested back on the bed, letting you fall over him in a flood of pure need, straddling him immediately. “I’m going to fuck you into this headboard, Laufeyson” you heard yourself mutter as you stooped to place wet kisses on his collarbone. Loki chuckled. “Oh I do hope so,” he rumbled under his breath. “I’ve thought about it enough.”

His eyes tracked over your loose pyjama top like a hunter, running his hands up the curve of your waist until your vision blurred. With a soft pop, you were free. Loki groaned. The flat of his cock lay nestled between your legs, pressed tight against your wet cunt. Pleasure fired with every frustrated rock of his hips, seeking salvation. His palms cupped your breasts, burying his face forwards as your wound your fingers in his hair. “Fuck me,” he gasped desperately against your chest. The skin was moist with moans and sucks and kisses as he pushed your breasts together, his proud features absorbing all you had to give. “Fuck me, please.”

You held your breath as you rose up, hand feeling between his legs and lining him up. The tip of his manhood brushed against your aching heat, a premature moan of anticipation filling the air from you both. “There’s no going back after this,” you said; voice trembling over shaky breaths. The god’s eyes rose from the sight of his cock hovering at your entrance, the same determined look of intent curtaining his features as had in the hallway. “You shall not want to go back, darling,” he murmured, a familiar smirk curling his lip in the gloom. A dimple flashed. “Believe me.”

The words made you clench just as you sank onto his cock, his sheer size making you choke on air as a strangled gasp erupted. Loki’s hands guided your hips, rocking you gently down his length. His eye twitched, brows slanted as his chin tilted to the ceiling. But still, he kept his gaze on you. “Loki-” you whined, feeling each ridge and vein of his shaft press and drag against your little cunt. Nothing was supposed to feel this good.

Loki let out a ragged exhale he’d been holding, whole body shuddering as he filled you to the hilt. Careful fingers rested on your hips, pulling you gently back and forth. You could feel your walls begin to stretch, the sopping stickiness of arousal coating his cock with each gyration. “Good?” he grunted, concern lacing his voice. You nodded mutely, strands of hair sticking to your parted lips as you moaned obscenities above him. How fucked-out you must look, and you’d barely started. One of your hands gripped his headboard, the other steadying on his chest as Loki let you take him. All of him.

With every roll of your hips, your clit pressed against his pelvis; sparks of pleasure setting your belly alight with new desires. Every soft sigh of your name, good girl, that’s it, pushed you higher; confidence building. You started to bounce, thighs tensing with every slam to the root of his shaft. The desire to close your eyes and let yourself drown in ecstasy was overwhelming, but the urge to watch the god you had craved writhe beneath you was stronger.

“G-gods, my sweet little f-fuck...f-ox…” Loki growled, giving into himself and making you fly into the air with a targeted thrust. He caught your waist, sinking you down with merciless precision, “you’re even more d-deadly than I expected.” The headboard slapped against the wall, each ca-lunk of wood on plaster making you tighten. Fingernails sank into the leather covering as the beat grew louder with every synchronised groan from your throats, of every squelching slap of your bodies moving as one. You didn’t stop to wonder who was on the other side. You didn’t care. Loki grit his teeth, the veins in his neck straining as his hair mussed against the pillow. He slipped a hand behind your head as you leant towards him, sucking the pleasure point of his neck with moans so dirty you surprised yourself. “My patient god,” you grunted wetly against his skin, tightening your cunt around his throbbing sex, “I want your cum covering every inch of me when tonight is over.” The noises he was making were filth. Every curse and uhhhhh and sluttish moan driving you feral as you shook the walls with all your might. Loki was nearing his limit. Men and gods, you surmised, were not so different in some respects.

His eyes rolled back, a hiss filling the hair as his jaw set in smouldering intent. You smiled, placing both hands firmly over the leather seal of his headboard. The flutter of his thumb against your swollen clit was all it took to push you over the edge, tumbling with a strangled cry of his name into an abyss of pleasure. Moonlight shattered around his tense body, cutting in shards where each bladed muscle of his godly formed tightened and bulged beneath the grip of your thighs.

Syllables of your name exploded one after another as he let himself come undone, arching up to catch your open mouth in a filthy kiss. The pressure of his cum swelled inside your slit, leaking against his shuddering thrusts as his whole body trembled. Your cries intertwined the air like wafts of smoke, rising and ebbing before with a final broken sigh, you collapsed on top of him. Your fingertips followed at a snails pace, scratching down the skin of the leather headboard. Seconds passed, before Loki’s nose nestled beside your ear. “Worth the wait,” he murmured against your hair. “Mmm-hmmm,” you confirmed groggily, deep in the pillow. Words were too much. “It wasn’t a question,” he said quietly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You managed to raise your head, seeing the crescent fan of his lashes rise to reveal eyes sparkling with something new. “You,” he whispered, knuckles trailing lovingly down the curve of your damp neck, “however long it took. You were always worth the wait.”

Tags

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @sebstanwhore @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @littlespaceyelf @arch-venus25 @liminalpebble

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fanfiction #lokismut #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki gif #loki marvel #somnophilia

1K notes · View notes

katyahina · 5 months ago

Text

The 'haired' helmets are strange..

It IS odd how we get to wear the characters' hairstyles, as it is just really unlikely they're scalps! I suppose the explanation is the same as why we are able to completely change upon looking into a mirror at Roundtable's Hold; as long as the Tarnished is guided by Greater Will, they'll have its aid and be transformed into whatever they see fit to keep carrying on! So I think the implication here is that we do, physically, grow the hair of the demigods (or champions) upon trying to tap on their power! I think if GW abandons a Tarnished, or if they abandon it, they lose this 'ability', which our playable character never does, so..

I am not sure whether it is Maliketh's own long mane or also a decoration! I'd like to think the former, in which case, same logic as with hair of Malenia, Godfrey and Radahn applies! Vargram's "hair" definitely is a decoration, and specifically for the purpose of imitating shadowbeasts:

Ensha's armour goes even further and not only gives us a hairdo, but makes us a skeleton:

We even get his power of slight regeneration, similar to Erdtree's normal powers:

All implications considered, I really doubt that this is just how armour looks, especially considering no change in size. We are not 'wearing' the skull, we ARE the skull now fhhsfd And this time the NPC data inside simply exists because Ensha does use NPC code and mechanics. So, we turn into a corpse! Again, should not matter much since as long as we're carried by GW we don't need to eat or sleep or... anything, really. (I'll also die on the hill of the theory that Ensha was one of the deceased Marika's offspring whose Mausoleum crashed and what was left from him crawled out but that's another story fdhfhds)

Here are other instances of hair simply decorating a helm:

Niall is that one guy we fight in Castle Sol, so similarity in this case ALSO checks out! Also cute idea: what if decoration for the helmets of Godrick's Knights IS his own hair? ;-;

That could also be speculated about Redmane Knights, but I feel like it'd be more appropriate for Godrick's. Radahn would be stingy about his amazing lion mane whereas Godrick can not only take body parts but also give them XDDDD yeah yeah terrible whatever

The black hair on Night Cavalry's helmet can be removed, also confirming that in this case it is a decoration. This hair does have interesting flowing animation though! Maybe it IS the hair of Night Cavalry themselves, still having their shadowy energy, but cut and attached again to their own helmets (kind of like Ciaran from DS1 decorated her helmet with her own braid!)

Another case of hair not being actual hair but part of the mask; the way hair is placed, it'd had to grow from like, eyebrows level and face itself or something fdhfdsdfh Maybe this style with braids and grey hair was intended to refer at Godfrey's? Alternatively, what IF their faces are actually furry/animalistic despite otherwise human build, so the hair doubles as fur? We don't see them behind the mask, after all? A food for a thought lol

^ More of 100% 'mask' types of these

The water dancer in blue gave the sword to Malenia's teacher, the blind guy that once sealed the God of Rot himself, and these warriors in blue appear to be following the same philosophy of "ever running water preventing stagnation, so, rot itself" as him! Although this head piece imitates just a follower and not the man himself (as far as we are aware....), perhaps the sentiment is strong enough to give us the hairdo too x) Again, funny enough, it seems to resemble the Lady of the Lake fairy herself!

I suspected the case of 'sharing hair' with Cleanrot Knights too, but upon closer look I can tell it is supposed to be some fabric/rags, rather than hair or hairlike accessory! Probably more efficient to imitate the look with rags rather than something hairlike tbh, considering the lenght of the thing! So I think the design is more meant to represent Malenia's own unhappy fate, with short tuft being the "hair" and the longer tails being the "wings" :

_______________

In conclusion, it is kind of easy to deduce which hair become our actual hair for the time being because of golden grace 'reshaping' us and which hair is just decor! But it is really interesting stuff to think about all the way!

#elden ring #elden ring reference #elden ring observation #elden ring headcanons #multi character post #not art #text post #use later #опять этот поехавший пишет эссе несмотря на убитое здоровье да хд #the cleanrot one is actually so clever??#good work on design!

205 notes · View notes

omenarchive · 3 months ago

Text

Bell's Hells Level 14 Analysis

Welcome to our second level up analysis here at the Omen Archive! A lot has happened since we first posted one of these, and Bell's Hells have become stronger as they prepare to face what lies ahead. Here are our thoughts on what level 14 holds in store. (Be mindful of some very minor spells-and-mechanics spoilers for C3E105.)

Ashton

Barbarian 14 HP: +5, total: 137 ASI: None

Kicking us off is Ashton’s 14th level in Barbarian, which grants him a brand new path feature. And when we say brand new, we mean it, since of course due to his subclass’s homebrew status, we don’t yet know the breadth of what Ashton’s Path of Fundamental Chaos has to offer at this level up.

We do know that it is likely a set of Fundamental Force Enhancements. Ashton received their first set of these enhancements at level 6, with each of their four rage types (Time, Space, Gravity, and Probability) getting its own boost through the features Hyper Rage, Worm Hole Strike, Density Well, and Dreadful Misfortune respectively.

So far, we’ve seen new enhancements to two of Ashton’s Fundamental Forces: “Mark of the Messy End,” which was their contribution to the Delilah sealing ritual in Episode 103, and “Acceleration Wave,” which they used for a display of power in the council chamber in Episode 104. Mark of the Messy End appears to be the Force Enhancement for Ashton’s Probability rage. It expands the number of rolls that count as a crit against a particular target. Rather than only critting on a 20, anyone who rolls an 18 or higher scores a critical hit. We’re not yet certain which Fundamental Force Acceleration Wave is associated with, but given the thematic and mechanical consistency of Ashton’s rages, it is most likely the second Force Enhancement for their Time rage. Up to ten allies of Ashton’s are given the benefit. Taliesin refers to it as “that speed rush,” which may mean Ashton is applying the base level effect of a Time rage to other creatures. In that case, they have doubled speed that doesn’t provoke opportunity attacks, and those allies also can use their bonus action to make an attack.

While we don’t yet know what the other two new Enhancements are, we can make some broad-stroke guesses. We can likely expect that the Force Enhancement for Ashton’s Space Rage will be teleportation-based, and if we follow the idea that these enhancements are geared towards applying effects to foes or allies, perhaps now Ashton might be able to teleport creatures they attack. Gravity is more challenging to guess at, but we will speculate that it could have a similar effect as the dunamatic spell Gravity Fissure, and might pull an enemy into a damaging dealing area. These are of course pure speculation—we’re tremendously excited to see what other Fundamental Force Enhancements Ashton has now!

Braius

Bard 3/Paladin 11 HP: no change, 114 ASI: None

As Braius entered the scene already at level 14, he does not join the rest of the party in leveling up. Luckily, we do have some new information since our last analysis of Braius. During the Critical Role Cooldown for episode 105, Sam read the stats and abilities of Braius’ new platemail, Truthbearer. In addition to its protective properties, the armor adds 30 points to Braius’ Lay on Hands pool, which Sam states brings him to 85 points in the pool. As the Lay on Hands pool is calculated as 5 times a character’s paladin level, we can now confirm that Braius is a level 11 paladin, level 3 bard. What we still don’t know is Braius’ paladin oath. In our analysis, we narrowed it down to two: Oath of the Ancients and Oath of the Watchers. We’ve only seen Braius use two new spells since then, one being a Paladin cantrip (Sacred Flame) and the other being Zone of Truth. Since the latter is a level two Bard spell it does not do anything to clarify his build or his Paladin Oath. There haven’t yet been any other opportunities to glean details on his build, so we’ll simply have to continue to wait and see. You can check out our Braius Doomseed analysis if you would like to see our reasoning for the two possible oaths listed above!

Chetney

Blood Hunter 13 / Rogue 1 HP: +12, total: 120 ASI: None

With his 13th level in Blood hunter, Chetney received a new toy: Brand of Tethering.

This is functionally an improvement to Brand of Castigation, and serves to keep enemies from escaping a battlefield. In order to teleport or otherwise leave its current plane, the branded creature takes 4d6 psychic damage and has to succeed on a Wisdom saving throw. The creature also can’t Dash, limiting its non-magical movement options. This should be eminently useful with enemies who prefer to Teleport away rather than continue a fight or conversation. Maybe next time Chet runs into Ludinus, he can force to stick around and listen to more questions about Molaesmyr.

Additionally, Brand of Tethering doubles the damage done by Chet’s Brand of Castigation (which deals psychic damage to a branded creature when it hurts Chet or any directly adjacent, non-invisible party). That damage number is now twice his Hemocraft casting modifier, bringing it to 6.

Chetney also gets a Blood Maledict improvement, increasing the number of times he can use his Blood curses to three times per rest.

Dorian

Bard 14 HP: +11, total:123 ASI: None

Oh blue bard, when did you get so hard? Dorian’s level up is a difficult one to analyze, since we barely know more about the state of his current build than we know about Braius’s, and because of the broad nature of what is available to him at level 14.

Let’s get the easy part out of the way: as a College of Swords bard, Dorian had gained Master’s Flourish. Previously, when Dorian used a Blade Flourish option (up to once per turn), he needed to expend a Bardic Inspiration die, which he would then roll to determine the buff or additional damage the Flourish provided. With Master’s Flourish, he can choose to not expend a Bardic Inspiration die, essentially getting the Flourish for free. The buff or additional damage would, in this case, be determined with a d6 roll. While a d6 provides less power to Flourishes than an inspiration die, since Dorian’s Bardic Inspiration die is currently a d10, it does allow Dorian to save that finite resource for buffing the party; he only has three to use per long rest. He can now flourish to his heart’s content without worrying about whether he should have given one of his friends Inspiration instead.

The second, very excellent but very difficult to analyze part of Dorian’s level up is Magical Secrets. Dorian can choose two spells from any class, up to 7th level, and they will be counted as Bard spells for him. This is the second time he’s gotten to plumb the depths of the arcane this way; Bards get their first Magical Secrets picks at level 10, with spells up to level 5. This is how he got his hands on Lightning Bolt, which is typically a Sorcerer or Wizard spell. As of C3E105, we also know that he has Find Greater Steed (typically a Paladin spell), although we don’t know if this was his other Level 10 pick or a new one for Level 14. Either way, there are quite literally hundreds of spells Dorian could choose, and there’s really no way to guess what he might take, or what would synergize with his build, given how much of it is still a mystery. We would love, at least, for him to take Counterspell if he hasn’t already, as the Hells gear up to face a formidable mage in Ludinus.

Fearne

Druid 10/Rogue 4 HP+9, total: 92 ASI: None

Fearne’s lean into Rogue continues! This has been an unexpected turn but one that Ashley has been making very good use of, taking advantage of her access to Mage Hand, Shield, Identify, and Disguise Person with some frequency. In taking a fourth level in Rogue, Fearne has given herself either an ASI or a Feat. As none of her Ability Scores have changed, it seems she has taken a feat, an excellent choice since her spellcasting ability of Wisdom is already maxed at 20.

There are three feats in particular we think might suit Fearne: War Caster, Elemental Adept (Fire), and Spelldriver.

War Caster is an old standby for mages of all kinds, providing as it does a very key ability: advantage on Constitution saves for maintaining spell concentration. There are two concentration spells in Fearne’s go-to kit which would make particularly good use of this: Daylight and Aura of Life. Aura of Life in particular has proven to be clutch in keeping the party on its feet, plus since it’s one of Fearne’s Circle of Wildfire spells it is always prepared—and may also be top of mind after losing concentration on it to an attack from Craven Edge in Episode 102 (02:52:33). Protecting it and other concentration spells might entice Fearne to take on War Caster. The feat’s additional ability to use spells as opportunity attacks could also be pretty big for Fearne, who does not have a lot at her disposal for acting outside her turn—though that has been changing recently with the addition of Shield and Cauterizing Flame (which she got during her last level up).

However, as the Hells get into the higher levels, they are coming across more and more enemies with damage resistances. As so many of Fearne’s damage dealing spells are fire based, running into a foe with fire damage resistance (like Delilah possessing Laudna in Episode 102) severely hinders her effectiveness. Taking Elemental Adept (Fire) would allow her to ignore fire damage resistance and turn any ones in her damage dice rolls into twos, keeping her in the game as an offensive force.

The last possibility we like for Fearne is Spelldriver, a feat from Tal’Dorei Reborn that allows one to cast leveled spells as both an action and as a bonus action in the same turn, so long as only one of them is third level or higher. We saw this feat in action recently in Downfall, as Nick Marini’s Ayden made use of it. We could picture Ashley giving it a go after that, though we are more inclined to expect her to take War Caster or Elemental Adept, push come to shove.

Imogen

Sorcerer 14 HP: +4, total: 87 ASI: None Sorcery Points: +1, total 14

Level 14 grants Imogen an Aberrant Mind class feature we’ve very much been looking forward to: something that is usually called Revelation in Flesh, which seems to have been reskinned in part or in whole as Form of Havoc. We do not know yet whether Form of Havoc refers to the feature in its entirety or just one of its four features (specifically flight), nor do we yet know what mechanical changes may have been made to it to align it more with Imogen’s Ruidian flavor of Aberrant Mind sorcery. As such, we’ll be looking at the feature as written in this analysis, and so will continue to refer to it as Revelation in Flesh for the time being.

Revelation in Flesh allows Imogen to spend sorcery points to alter her body for 10 minutes at a time. As written, there are four possible benefits she can activate, each costing a single sorcery point. We’ve seen the first already, which grants her a flying speed equal to her walking speed. Following the feature as written, her other three options would be to 1) choose to see invisibility, 2) be able to move through spaces as small as an inch and spend movement to escape non-magical restraints or being grappled, and finally, 3) to gain a swim speed equal to double her walking speed, as well as the ability to breathe underwater.

The last of these is the one that seems most likely to be altered or replaced entirely, as despite the shark-like appearance of the Reilora, there is no indication whatsoever that they or Exaltants have any special affinity for water. We can only speculate as to what a homebrew alteration might look like; perhaps instead of a swimming bump, Imogen’s long range psychic communication might be improved, with the doubled swim movement instead being assigned to flight. Or, perhaps, she might gain an ambient psychic static ability similar to that of the very first Reilora she summoned, causing psychic damage to anyone who gets to close. We will have to wait and see!

What’s particularly nice about Revelation in Flesh is that it is based on sorcery points expended, rather than only available a certain number of times per long rest. It only takes a bonus action to activate, and Imogen can activate up to all four aspects at once, with an action still to spare. She can, of course, also activate just one, two, or three at a time, which lets her customize the feature (and minimize her point spend) to match the details of a given situation. Given that the Bloodwell Vial allows Imogen to regain Sorcery Points on a short rest, and that on Ruidus Fearne can donate spells to give Imogen Sorcery Points, Imogen is well positioned to use Revelation in Flesh frequently in the upcoming battles on the red moon.

While Imogen does already have access to flight via the Fly spell, and with a greater speed (60 feet to Revelation in Flesh’s 30), it’s noteworthy—and handy—that the aspects of Revelation in Flesh are not tied to concentration. That means her Revelation flight does not leave Imogen vulnerable in the air if she gets walloped for damage, and she can still use one of her other concentration spells, like Seething Storm and Investiture of Lightning, while aloft.

This is a huge mechanical boost for Imogen, and we’re looking forward to seeing it in action on the battlefield and to hearing Laura’s description of how Imogen’s body changes, since the original spell, like the original Aberrant Mind subclass, is very eldritch horror.

Laudna

Sorcerer 11/Warlock 3 HP: +9, total: 126 ASI: None Sorcery Points: +1, total 11

Marisha held off on deciding which class to take a level in until the ritual to bind Delilah was complete, but thanks to a tweet from Dani Carr—thanks Dani!—we know that success in that ritual has resulted in another Sorcerer level for Laudna! This means Laudna gets an additional sorcery point for her pool, as well as her first and only 6th level spell.

There are a few 6th level spells that would be very useful or on brand for Laudna. While Circle of Death sounds thematic, it’s essentially a necrotic Fireball with a bigger blast radius but the same amount of damage rolled and at a much higher spell slot cost. The larger radius does mean it could hit more enemies, but we are inclined to think Marisha is more likely to diversify her tactics. Eyebite likewise is thematic and feels like a slightly better bet—although Laudna already has her own means of making creatures frightened, being able to hit them with the sleep or especially the sickened condition could be very useful. The spell is, however, doubly vulnerable to being taken down before its duration can run out: not only is it a concentration spell, but the various conditions can be ended other ways. Sleep ends when the target takes damage or is shaken awake, the frightened condition ends when line of sight is interrupted or in this case, if the target moves out of the 60-foot range, and a sickened creature makes an additional Wisdom save against the condition at the end of their turn. That makes Eyebite less appealing to us for Laudna.

Arcane Gate is another spell that could afford Laudna some much needed mobility on the battlefield, much like Far Step for level 5 spells, as discussed in our Level 13 Analysis. Arcane Gate, which creates linked teleportation portals, has the added benefits over Far Step of being usable by allies and for a duration of up to 10 minutes. Plus, it could be used to dump an enemy into an environmental hazard if used in conjunction with shove attacks from the martial crew. We don’t know yet what new spell Laudna took last level, however, so if she took Far Step, Arcane Gate might hold less appeal. Laudna taking teleportation spells two levels in a row seems unlikely.

Disintegrate is a nasty damage dealer, and if Laudna is looking for pure power, it’s the most obvious choice. However, a lot of the terror Disintegrate invokes is that it takes Revivify, Resurrection, and the like off the table, which makes it feel much scarier when aimed at Player Characters than NPCs. Regardless, it’s still incredibly wicked, doing 10d6+40 force damage. If Laudna is looking to hit hard, this is a very, very nice choice, especially since she has Empowered Spell as one of her Metamagic options and could choose to reroll half of those damage dice for better results.

The spell we like best for Laudna’s first 6th level, however, is Globe of Invulnerability, for one reason: protecting Laudna from a Counterspell chain. This concentration spell lasts for a minute and creates a sphere with a 10-foot diameter around the caster. Any spell of level 5 or lower cast from outside of the Globe, even when upcast, can’t affect creatures or objects within it. That includes Area of Effect damage, so an enemy can’t be clever and cast a Fireball just outside it and still hit the caster—the damage won’t penetrate. Most importantly for our reasoning, even if an enemy upcasts their Counterspell to level 9, it can’t get through the Globe of Invulnerability, as the third-level Counterspell is under that level 5 threshold. That means that if Laudna successfully Counterspells from within the Globe, that Counterspell gets to stick. This markedly improves the battlefield for the Hells–especially given that as far as we know, none of the other Hells have that spell in their kit. It also means that anyone, not just Laudna, who wants to sling a big spell on their turn can do so from inside the Globe without fearing their spell slot will go to waste upon falling prey to an enemy Counterspell. And of course, protection from 5th level and under spells in general is very nice. Its biggest downside is that the Globe is immobile and does not move with the caster, so if the positioning becomes unfavorable, there’s not much that can be done. Still, the ability to definitively stop enemy spells from working is just too big to pass up just for that reason. This is the spell we hope Laudna chooses.

Orym

Fighter 14 HP: +9, total: 155 ASI: None

Unsurprisingly, as a Fighter, Orym’s level up is straightforward, with either an ASI or a Feat on offer. As Orym’s ability scores show no change, we know he took another feat, and one that does not have an ASI as one of its boons.

There are two feats that seem like the clear choices for Orym, and they will both be very familiar to fans who have watched previous campaigns and ExU Calamity: Sentinel and Mage Slayer. Both are reaction-based feats that operate on similar principles. Sentinel would give Orym the ability to reduce enemy speed to 0 if he hits that enemy with an opportunity attack. It also would allow Orym to take an opportunity attack even if a creature Disengages before moving. Finally, in keeping with Orym’s protective approach to fighting, if a creature within five feet of him attacked anyone other than him, he’d be allowed to make a melee attack on them.

Similarly, Mage Slayer would allow Orym to wallop any spellcaster who casts a spell within 5 feet of him with a melee attack. It would also improve Orym’s effectiveness in breaking casters’ concentration, as he would impose disadvantage on their concentration saving throws when damaging them. He would also have advantage on any saving throws associated with spells cast within 5 feet of him.

Both would mesh very well with Orym’s approach to fighting and with the circumstances, but we favor Mage Slayer by just an Orym-sized bit more, because with so many powerful casters to deal with in Ludinus and the Reilora, the ability to more effectively disrupt concentration spells is absolutely clutch.

Thanks for reading our analysis on the recent level up! We'll see in the coming episodes how our speculation panned out, but until then, is it Thursday yet?

#bell's hells #cr3 #bells hells #critical role #omen archive #level 14

131 notes · View notes

elementroar · 7 months ago

Text

Flament Nagel, the Flaming Nail - Paracelsus theory(ies)

This was gonna go out earlier yesterday, but you know, Slayer happened lol.

I feel that ArcSys has been hinting that Paracelsus' 'true nature' is more complicated than described, even more than how his true form being kinda formless and his nature as a morph weapon that reacts to the emotions of his wielder.

So below is his appearance during A.B.A's Instant Kill move back in ACCENT CORE +R, which were a signature cinematic and flashy move that instantly destroys your opponent regardless of health. It's a retired game mechanic now in STRIVE.

So back in their previous appearance back in ACCENT CORE+R, this is the form Paracelsus briefly takes when performing A.B.A's Instant Kill, where he first flies up into the sky while she summons her door.

What’s interesting is it’s only in this form that we see him resemble his original name - Flament Nagel - which is misspelled German for “Flaming Nail”. In no other move or scene does he actually look or behave like a 'nail' that's on fire.

After their enemy is sucked into the door and it closes, Paracelsus returns but in Goku Moroha mode (the extreme mode above his usual Moroha mode) and slices the door in half to break it and ‘seal’ their enemy on the other side to ‘instant kill’ them.

He then slices the doors apart forcefully because he is actually rotated with his blade facing the door. Paracelsus is not facing us the audience in this animation. The 'face' facing us isn't his actual face morphing, but some kind of energy entirely.

What’s more, Paracelsus himself appears to be knocked out (😵) during the entire animation and only opens his eyes after the black smoke dissipates and seems kinda scared or confused at the end of it. Which suggests it isn’t even 'him' doing the attack with A.B.A, or at least not him consciously doing it.

There's the possibility that this smoke and the sludge we now see in STRIVE are suppose to be the same thing, but changed due to art evolution. A kind of formless mass Paracelsus takes on when he doesn't have a definite form, or a form that differs from his default.

I'm not saying Paracelsus was taken over by a completely separate personality or entity, because he still had agency and awareness, he still talked as himself in Moroha mode. And it's clear he enjoys/enjoyed blood and violence and he still reminisces about them with some fondness in STRIVE.

But when he says he "lost his sanity" during his bloodlust, I wonder if it was more like he was partially possessed, and he didn't realize it.

Paramirum

Coupled with his new transformation which is called “hyoui” (“possession”) internally, and his STRIVE axe form has both two 'heads' at once, and is actually a double-bladed axe with one blade broken off. It feels like hints and motifs that Paracelsus is or has multiple entities or personalities in one.

Like on his blade in Jealous Rage mode, that word on the blade is "Paramirum" which is actually one of the books written by the real-life alchemist Paracelsus. It means "beyond wonder". What's more interesting is that the roman numeral Ⅱ is on that blade too, right above "Paramirum".

Does that mean something like a second Paracelsus, or "Paramirum" personality is appearing on that blade? There is a goat's eye on that half in Jealous Rage, which gets much larger in hyoui mode. Could this be his old goat's head personality reappearing indepedently of the main Paracelsus personality?

(There's also text on Paracelsus' end in Jealous Rage, but I can't tell what it is from the gallery images, prolly will need to see the actual model textures)

It should also be noted that in his original Moroha mode, it’s shown that only one of his eyes lights up. So the idea of him being somehow ‘half’ isn’t entirely new to STRIVE.

It’s also not clear if Paracelsus is actually aware in red hyoui mode, and if it's actually him snarling with A.B.A in her attack. His regular face is apparently still there when the attack happens, according to this concept art, so it's a second face appearing on the blade half. Could this actually be a completely separate personality from the main Paracelsus?

Personal headcanon/theory

My personal headcanon now is that ArcSys is heavily hinting a dual-personality situation with Paracelsus. If he really is actually a twin-bladed axe that got one edge broken off, then maybe the Paracelsus we know is ‘half’ of his full personality and is technically incomplete. If Moroha partially reveals his other personality, maybe they use to both be present at the same time (both blades present) but now only one can take dominance at one time (as a single bladed axe).

Or a new personality is emerging that's in response to A.B.A's bloodlust in STRIVE.

There's also a lesser-known property of magical foci like Paracelsus, in that they described as 'physical proxies' to the real 'data' they're pulling from in the Backyard (think in computer terms: the main Guilty Gear world is really more like the Windows Desktop of reality while the Backyard is the actual hard drive).

It really doesn't come up much, maybe in I-No's story, but functionally doesn't mean anything for characters like Paracelsus. Usually.

But there's an interesting thing with what we see pop up out of A.B.A's door when she does her Keeper of the Key Overdrive.

The multiple tentacles are made of sludge similar to Paracelsus' form, have eyes similar to Paracelsus', and also sharp blades and red energy. The Jealous Rage version even reminds me of Paracelsus' other nickname, 'the Sanguine Gale', where he supposedly swung so fast that he sent blades of wind out to slash at enemies back in his berserker days. The Jealous Rage version has the tendril twist around like a tornado with blades extended.

My theory is THAT is part of Paracelsus' 'full body' back in the Backyard. A giant formless mass much like Paracelsus' true sludgy form, that is summoned A.B.A unlocks the way to it when she uses Paracelsus himself as the key, and reacts to A.B.A's wish for them to attack by forming blades and lashing out.

Maybe it's a giant collection of multiple souls, entities, and memories, because magical foci can be created from multiple things attaching to each other and an object or human. In its case, I can imagine it's the collective memories of warriors who died on the battlefield, that melted together in the Backyard and attached themselves to a weapon - an axe.

And Paracelsus could be just one facet of the collective whole that has grown independent in the physical world of GG.

But big reminder that this is all my personal speculation. I don't expect ArcSys to ever definitely say what's coming out of the door; because there's always the chance it's really just 'rule of cool' like most things in the game, to be honest.

But I like to think it's not a coincidence that A.B.A's new Overdrive has her actually use Paracelsus as a key now, and she's summoning something that looks like it's also sludge like him.

#guilty gear strive #a.b.a guilty gear #paracelsus guilty gear #aba guilty gear #arc system works #ggst

139 notes · View notes

randofics · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, sorry to bother you. Is there any chance you could do some more writing on the fic about being able to reach where the bots can't? Maybe them seeking out more and more chances to get help with it so they can feel them again (once again sorry to bother im not used to doing asks lol)

My first ask that I've actually finished! It took a few days, but I got it done. Hope you enjoy this anon!

Being able to reach where the bots can't Pt.2

After the men on base found out you could squeeze into Optimus's engine space and reach where they couldn't, they would call on you for assistance quite often.

Once after a battle, they were giving Optimus a thorough lookover for any serious damage when someone spotted leaking enerjon pooling underneath him. There was enough for everyone to get a bit worried. One guy spotted you walking into the hangar and yelled for you. The tone of his voice was enough for your happy face to twist with worry.

You sprinted over and bent down to look where they were pointing. Heart tightening at the sight, without hesitation, you slid underneath him to look. Finding a dripping trail of the blue fluid, you sat up on your knees and leaned against the inside of his wheel. "I need some electrical tape!" A hand tapped your side, and you grabbed the roll immediately, pulling out a long strip and tearing it off with your teeth.

Reaching up, you felt for the torn cables and hoses. Finding a matching pair, you quickly pressed the open ends together and wrapped them tightly to seal them. You did that for the other ones till you didn't see any more bleeding. Your heart racing in your chest, you leaned back against the inside of his wheel again and asked for a clean cloth. You wiped your hands clean and gently cleaned any surface of his engine that had drying enerjon.

His shocks creaked as the tension in his frame was released. The cables still hurt, but with your gentle touch, that was quickly forgotten.

-------

Crosshairs didn't like the feeling of things stuck in his plating, but if it meant possibly getting you to touch him in order to remove it, then he could tolerate it. Now he didn't do it on purpose it really was accidental. Nevertheless, he called you over for some assistance in removing the offending plant matter.

Once again, you leaned over into his engine space and felt around for anything out of place. Feeling the soft texture of a leaf, you touched your way down to the branch it was attached to and gave it a tug. You managed to pull it free, but the end was broken off somewhere inside the mechanics of his engine.

He was too low to the ground for you to slip underneath, so you called another person nearby to get you a set of carjacks. A minute or two later, they ran up with two heavy jacks in hand. Laying on the concrete, you felt underneath his bumper for parts of his frame you could use to lift him. Sliding the jacks into position, you cranked them both a bit at a time till his front end was up high enough for you to safely slip underneath.

Flashlight in hand, you scanned the underside of his engine for the green of leaves. Spotting one poking out, you slowly pulled it till the rest of the branch came free. "Is that all of it?"

"Yeah, that feels like all of it." With that, you slid out from underneath him tossing the branch to the side and starting to release the jacks. They slowly racked down till he was on his wheels, and you pulled them away.

He transformed and tested his movements a bit. With a grumbled thank you from him, you went on with your previous work.

-------

Bumblebee had a plan in motion. He'd purposefully gotten dirty so you would help clean him. He waited outside the hangar for you to arrive and honked his horn to grab your attention.

When you saw him rolling towards you, absolutely caked in mud, you had to do a double take. "What in the world did you get into bee?" You chuckle, shaking your head at his antics.

"Can you.. wash.. me?"

"You have a wash station inside bee. Why do you want me to wash you?"

A voice clearly from an old movie answered you. "It's gotten old darling"

"So you just want to change things up a bit?"

A happy whirring answered you. You sighed. "Well, I suppose I have the time. Just park by the wash station so the hose can reach you. I'll grab some stuff."

"So, do you want the water cold or hot?"

🎶"Shawty fire burnin' fire burnin'."🎶

You let out a snort at his music reference. "Ok, hot it is." You sprayed him down, trying to remove as much dried mud as possible before using the sponges. Surprisingly, you got almost everything off with the hose alone. Dunking a sponge into your bucket of warm soapy water, you splashed soap over his hood, following behind with circular motions. Scrubbing anything too stubborn with a wet cloth.

He was definitely enjoying this. Your hands all over him and the warm water running over his plating. It was over too soon, though, and you dumped the bucket in the nearby drain after giving him a thorough spray down to remove any leftover suds.

"Sorry bee, you'll have to get your undercarriage cleaned in the wash station. It's too hard for me to wash under there."

"That's alright."

He watched you walk away through a set of double doors nearby and then drove into the wash station, letting it blast his undercarriage with cool water.

You chuckled to yourself as you walked down the hallway. You knew exactly why he'd gotten so dirty, and you thought it was cute how he tried to play it off.

-------

Rachet had gone out with Bumblebee and Raf after Optimus suggested he take a break from the deskwork to stretch his "legs". He'd grumbled about it but relented. When he returned, there was some mud splattered on his plates that he didn't pay any mind to. When Arcee commented on it, he brushed her off, saying that he'd get cleaned up later.

You arrived at base after bee picked you up from work. And as soon as you saw the grumpy medic standing at his desk with mud on his white and rusty red paint, you rolled your eyes. Figures he'd be too engrossed in work to even shower.

Motherly instincts taking over you called his name with no response. A little louder the second time. "Rachet!" He didn't look at you, but this time, he answered. "What? I'm busy!"

"You need to wash off."

"Can't right now, there's too much to do."

"Rachet, I will spray you if I have to."

"Sorry, still too busy."

You let out an annoyed growl. Then, an idea popped into your head. You ran off to find some tools.

Slightly out of breath, you placed the buckets on the floor behind rachet and dragged an extra long hose to the same spot after hooking it to a nearby spicket. Turning on the water, you ran to the end with the spray nozzle and, without warning, sprayed him in the back. He jumped, letting out a yelp at the cold water. Whipping around, he glared down at you.

"Hey, I tried to warn you. Now transform so I can get all that dry mud off you." He rolled his optics, letting out a grumble of annoyance. Relenting, he transformed, and you smiled in satisfaction.

"Just be quick about it." You got to work spraying him down and sudsing him up. You had to sit on your knees on his tire to reach the center of his hood. Your chest pressing into him as you reached for the awkward spot. Internally, he was freaking out about it.

This definitely felt nicer than the wash station, though, and eventually, he was relaxing on his shocks, enjoying your thorough cleaning.

Once you'd finished his chassis and tires, you put on some swimming goggles and slid under his side. He'd been so entranced by your touch on his panels that he hadn't even noticed you slip underneath him. When he felt your touch on his undercarriage, he jolted forward an inch in surprise.

"Woah, Rachet!"

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were under there." He tried to speak as normal as possible, but you noticed the slight crack in his voice. Gently, you started scrubbing the cables and other parts that made up his undercarriage. You immediately took note of how tense he'd become and listened to any sounds he made.

He kept as quiet as possible, but he was definitely feeling things he hadn't in a few centuries. Luckily, no one was in the main room of the base at the moment. Even so, he didn't want you or anyone else to hear the noises his body was trying to produce.

You could, every once in a while, make out stifled grunts and groans, which made you grin mischievously. Eventually, though, you had completely cleaned every inch of his undercarriage that your small hands and the cloth you used would allow. So reluctantly, you slid out from under him soaked with soap and grime all over.

You stretched, removing the goggles and ringing out some water from the bottom of your shirt. "Woo! Now I need a shower." He transforms, looking himself over for a moment. "Ahem, thank you, y/n." He held his fisted servo over his mouth, looking anywhere but at you. "I could tell you enjoyed yourself." He looked at you wide optics, and you grinned up at him, giving a wink and walking away to take a shower of your own.

#fanfic #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #transformers #transformers prime #tf bayverse #bayverse crosshairs #bayverse bumblebee #rachet #tfp ratchet #pt.2 #ask

906 notes · View notes

strawberrystepmom · 11 months ago

Text

to forgive is divine & to err is human

pairing: Natsuo Todoroki x F!Reader (romantic), Touya Todoroki x F!Reader (familial)

word count: 7.5k

about: when Touya is released to Natsuo’s care following his 8 year prison stay, the fragility of the dynamic between the three of you threatens to derail everyone involved.

contents: cw: contains descriptions of depression, trauma, smoking, bad coping mechanisms, alcoholism, Touya dyes his hair black in a white sink (ugh). angst with a happy ending, set in canon universe but not canon compliant, established relationship between Natsuo and reader (married), Touya and reader are both assholes at certain points.

notes: tbh I've been meaning to repost this and since I'm currently in my "yes girl give us nothing" era, the time has come. Thank you to everyone (then and now) that has read this baby bc I did indeed put my ol' Kendussy into it so I didn't really change anything about it other than fixing grammar and I'm sure there are still mistakes. This is is how I wrote a year ago and that's okay and I'm proud of how far I've come.

Posting this as a double feature bc it feels too idk self promo-y to split them up again so enjoy my creature feature with my beloved Natsuo and his stinky brother. chain divider thanks to @/cafekitsune ♡

The large, red letters across the paperwork make your eyes hurt by simply gazing at them.

“RELEASED” stamped with what you can tell was a mostly dried out ink pad, the red darker at the beginning of the word than at the end. You wish you could close the growing pit in your stomach knowing Natsuo will soon arrive back to your home, rehabilitated brother in tow, but the uncertainty makes it hard to settle as you re-stack the documents given to you by the Hero Public Safety Commission when they formally announced they would permit Touya’s release so long as someone would be responsible for him.

When the conversation came up, Natsuo volunteered without a second thought. It hurt at first that he did not ask you before making the decision but after having spent nearly a decade at his side, you trusted his judgment. Six months after the initial inquiry, you still do. Touya is a practical stranger, someone you have only met through grainy video chats, but you have been briefed by many HPSC coordinators. They have conducted home visits, interviewed both of you as if you were the criminals, combed through every bank account and piece of mail to ensure that they are putting their inmate into good hands. A good word from Endeavor, something your husband reluctantly accepted, sealed the decision. Your eyes scan over the handwritten letter from Enji, tucked in the stack of documents.

“No one is more qualified to care for his brother Touya than my son Natsuo. He is a licensed medical professional, specializing in psychology and mental health services and has experience in dealing with traumatized children. I ask that the Commission consider no other placement for Touya.”

A tired sigh escapes as you flip through a few more pages, squinting through descriptions of you and Natsuo. Your personalities, your hobbies, where you work, who you associate with - all vital information, the panel assured you. The final page of the documents has the official ruling, the top left corner of the page curled in from how many times the pair of you have read over it.

“Todoroki Touya, thirty two years of age, is to be released to the custody of his brother Todoroki Natsuo, twenty eight years of age. Todoroki will be required to wear a location monitoring device at all times per the agreed upon terms of release. He is not permitted to be in contact with any of his prior associates. If contact is initiated, he will be required to return to the custody of the HPSC immediately and will no longer be eligible for release.”

Your eyes scan the document again and again, searching for some kind of strange loophole that could prevent all of this from happening. Guilt crawls up your spine and makes you shudder at the thought. How could you not want this for your husband? He has spent years dreaming of having a second chance to love his brother differently, to help him heal. It makes you feel vile to even entertain negative thoughts about Touya.

Touya. You know little about the man aside from his name, or names, rather. His time as Dabi concluded, he was sentenced to 8 years of rehabilitation instead of prison. A victim of child abuse needed recovery, the commission reasoned, and they were willing to give him the space to do so within reason. The entire Todoroki family agreed with and supported the commission and their decision, his siblings and parents being granted permission to visit him if they chose to do so.

Natsuo went as frequently as possible, excitedly telling you how much his brother has improved after every visit, eagerness infectious. You listened to his every word, rapt, as he talked about how different Touya looked now that he was eating well, how far he had come, how he seemed emotionally stable for the first time in his life. Genuine excitement danced in his eyes at the thought of having his brother back, not a shell of a boy or a man. Not Dabi but Touya, someone who was cruelly taken from him when he was too young to fully understand why.

The true agony was seeing the metaphorical stitches ripped open, cruelly and callously. The entire country was witness to the explosive truth - Touya Todoroki was alive. Even Fuyumi with her limitless poise gnawed her lower lip hoping it would ground her enough that she could stay strong for everyone else. “I can handle this,” she assured you as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders the day after the video aired. She knew the person who would need you the most was her brother. Looks were deceiving - Natsuo was big and strong, a grown man, but his feelings were delicate. She trusted no one but you to look after him.

Natsuo had only asked you to be his girlfriend weeks before his brother revealed his true identity publicly. You will never forget the way grief was etched into all of his features, his strong brow downturned for weeks; retraumatized. It took every ounce of strength in his body to muster a smile, much less anything else, but he did it. For Fuyumi and Shouto, for his mother.

You can remember every moment of the years following Touya revealing himself. The nights when Natsuo woke up sobbing, burying his face into your chest and balling the fabric of your shirt up between his fists as if it would keep him from losing touch with reality completely. He stopped eating for days at a time, depression sinking him into depths he didn’t know existed. You were always there with a soothing touch and okayu, a rice porridge Fuyumi taught you to make for him.

“When Touya died, it’s all he would eat,” she explained. Your heart crumbled at the thought of a 13 year old version of your beloved future sister in law having to keep her 9 year old brother moving through the pain of loss. How did they keep themselves together?, you wondered more than once as she breezed through the difficult times with a tight smile.

The more you watched the man you love sink, the more conflicted you felt about Touya. Those feelings lingered even into today. Natsuo is healing, therapy and love and compassion all coming together to create a whole man instead of pieces of a hurt child in a big body, but you can’t help the simmering anger you feel when you think about watching him experience the hurt in real time. Some memories stay etched forever.

Natsuo continued to live despite the difficult times. You helped him study and make his way through medical school - a feat that he often credited you wholly for. It wasn’t true but the praise always feels good. Three years after Touya was sentenced, Natsuo opened his clinic that offers a variety of therapeutic services for children with difficult quirks or those who have suffered because of them. A year after that the two of you were married.

“I knew you were the one when you gave me a reason to keep trying,” he tearfully admitted as you exchanged vows during your small wedding ceremony. The details weren’t for everyone else to know, but the pair of you knew exactly what he was talking about and the admission still makes you feel weepy if you start to think about it for too long.

Love feels like too shallow of a word to explain how you feel about him which is why you agreed to this in the first place - your love for Natsuo is stronger than your distaste toward Touya. You remind yourself of the mantra as you hear voices outside of your front doorstep, one immediately recognizable as belonging to Natsuo. You stand and take a deep breath, composing yourself and closing the file folder on the table as the door opens and the two white haired men crowd into the small genkan, talking amongst each other.

“We’re here!”

A practiced, measured smile is what you can manage as you watch the situation carefully. Touya scratches the back of his head and offers a small and impersonal wave and you’re surprised by how different he looks. Thin but healthy, his skin grafts have been properly secured, his lashes are the same white as the ones that frame your husband's kind, gray eyes. The similarities between the two are striking but so are the differences - Natsuo greets you with a smile and a peck on your forehead and Touya glowers from the doorway.

“Welcome home, Touya,”

He looks around, eyes narrowed as he takes in the sights of your well lived in home. It reminded you eerily of the way the representatives from the commission sullied your safe place away slowly, searching every corner to make sure you would not enable any more bad behavior from the man standing in the doorway. Your home had only just begun to feel like yours again.

“Nice place. Guess that’s what being married to a doctor gets you.”

His crass comment made you feel stricken, flinching slightly as your practiced smile wavers. You aren’t Fuyumi, full of endless grace and forgiveness - you can’t fake it. You aren’t Natsuo who believes in the potential of people more than anyone you’ve ever met. You are you and right now you are angry. Clenching your fists in a way you hope is imperceptible, you fake a laugh and your husband looks at you with wide eyes, noticing your change in demeanor.

“Well, it’s your place too now. Guess that’s what being a doctor's brother gets you.”

Touya purses his lips and nods, arms folded across his chest. You look over his scars, his healed skin, his cold eyes. “Do you want to show him to his room, babe?” Natsuo asks, voice shaky, as if he’s anxious for your response. “I can find it myself,” Touya answers for you, heavy boots in his hands as he pads through your home toward where his room lies. You spent weeks helping Natsuo prepare it for him, filling it with photos and books to help him gain back the time he lost while he was away. The taste in your mouth is nothing short of bitter and sour as you think about it.

“I don’t know what that was about, I asked him no-,” you raise your hand, cutting your husband off mid sentence as your fake smile finally falls and gives way to a slight frown, corners of your mouth downturned. “Don’t worry about it.”

Touya has always felt suspicious of you. Your intentions, your affections for his brother, your involvement with his family - it’s hard not to be uncertain about someone who fits so flawlessly in the dysfunctional outline created by being a Todoroki. What are you hiding? What do you want?

He tosses his boots down on the floor of the room at the end of the hallway. Instinctually, he knows this is his space. Covered with childhood photos of the Todoroki family, a quilt he received as a child covering the bed, he wants to be impressed with the effort put in but instead he feels hollow. This life never fit him in the first place, happy smiles for photos and dinners and whatever the fuck was expected of him, and now he had no choice but to live it.

It is a hell of a lot nicer than the four white walls that housed him for eight long years. The bed looks a lot more comfortable, he thinks as he settles down on the edge of it, lying back with his arms behind his head. Fixing his gaze on the ceiling, he takes a moment to think in the silence of the space. The entire car ride his brother talked about you and your life together. Touya eventually began to tune him out, watching the trees pass by the window with the occasional red light flashing on his monitoring anklet catching his attention.

Rehabilitated. The connotations of the word weighed heavily on Touya - one fuck up and it would be so easy for you to convice Natsuo to send him back. You could never understand him the way that his family does. You couldn’t forgive him the way they had either, something both of you would never communicate to each other.

“Hey,” Natsuo’s voice rasps from the doorway and Touya sits up slightly, grunting his response. “You like it alright?”

“It’s fine.”

Natsuo sighs, carefully entering the room and shutting the door behind him as he slumps down on the bed next to his brother, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of the huge change that has come over his otherwise peaceful life. “You don’t have to lie, Touya.”

Touya sits up, using his elbows to support his weight, and offers a half smile toward his brother. “I’m not lyin’, it’s fine. Just feels like too much.”

Natsuo nods, trying to tamp down his urge to play therapist instead of brother. It was something he did all too often growing up and probably why he has made fixing people his mission in life. Touya was no exception.

“It’s the least we can do. You’ve been through a lot.”

We, Touya thinks to himself. Always we. He wonders how much Natsuo has surrendered of himself for your sake. Does he have any hobbies besides being a doting husband? Is his world filled with anything besides this little bubble the two of you live in?

“Don’t act like she had anything to do with all of this, Natsu. I was released to you.”

Touya slips a hand in his jacket pocket and fishes around for his pack of cigarettes, popping one out of the packaging with expert precision and sticking it between his lips as his brother sits next to him silently. “Lemme guess, need to do this outside?”

Natsuo nods and Touya sighs, sliding off of the bed and leaving a rumpled quilt behind him. Heavy footsteps trail down the hallway as he peers into the kitchen and notices the backdoor, quietly slipping through it only to be met with a glowing red cherry on the other side, smoke streaming from your mouth as you stand with a cigarette between your fingers.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he starts, pulling his lighter from his pocket and clicking it until a bright flame catches the cigarette dangling from between his lips. Once upon a time he would’ve just used his quirk but the prescription blockers he was given by court order prevented that. “All he ever talks about is how perfect you are.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” you shoot back, flicking your cigarette ashes onto the ground below before taking another drag.

The mutual distrust permeated the air between the two of you. Touya reminded you so much of your father in law it was like looking at another version of him. You reminded Touya of everything he hated about this world - false pretense and unattainable perfection. He doubts you have ever walked around without a hair out of place, a Todoroki would never.

“Any other deep dark secrets I should know before being trapped inside of this house with you 24 hours a day?”

You chuckle, dropping your cigarette on the ground and stomping it out, bending to pick up the butt once you’re done.

“Your brother won't let me drink anymore,” you start, hoping the vulnerability warms your brother in law. His steely gaze convinces you otherwise and you begin to walk away, arms folded over your chest with a cigarette butt in your fist. “Just another fun part of the aftermath of your little warpath.”

Touya knows he fired the first shots but he’s taken aback at your accusatory tone.

“Anything else you want to question me about? Figured the commission briefed you on all of my dirty laundry.”

He shakes his head and exhales smoke through the corner of his mouth, the plumes drifting in your direction. “Good chat, Touya.”

The back door slams as you enter your home through it, windows rattling slightly. Your first instinct is to pour a drink but the reminder of your rock bottom lingers on your mind as you instead toss your cigarette in the trash and turn down the hall and head to your bedroom, Natsuo sitting on the bed.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

You hate how hysterical your voice sounds, anxiety rising like bile. Rising to his feet, your husband gathers you against his chest and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Give him time, he’ll warm up.”

You don’t share your husband’s boundless optimism as you hear the back door slam and hear footsteps heading to the bedroom opposite yours. Natsuo plants another soft kiss atop your hair and squeezes your hand gently as he walks back over to Touya’s room.

“You alright?” Natsuo asks and Touya rolls his eyes, shrugging off his jacket and draping it across a hook on the back of the door. “Fine. Thanks for the concern.”

Natsuo slips through the door completely and closes it softly behind him, leaning against the solid wood.

“What happened out there?”

Touya chuckles and shrugs, sitting on the bed in the same place he had left. “Nothing worth mentioning. I’ll make sure I keep my bottles hidden from her though.”

His eyes widened, Touya’s antagonistic tone nothing new, his shock coming from the fact you told him about your struggles with substance abuse in the first place. It wasn’t a secret but it certainly wasn’t a fun fact you gave out at trivia night.

“Uh, yeah, thank you.” Natsuo fumbles through his words, unsure of the right thing to say. “That would be great. She has come a long way but there are still times that are difficult, especially when big changes occur.”

Your substance abuse issues began about a year after your marriage. Blissful happiness wasn’t enough to numb the intense pain of the years prior but copious amounts of whiskey while Natsuo was busy with work were good enough. Blind confidence convinced you he didn’t notice a thing, not your sunken eyes or decreased appetite, but he did and he confronted you as gently as he could.

The next day you started therapy of your own and have continued to go to meetings for others struggling with addiction since then. Nothing drastic has happened in your life since you quit drinking, calm falling over the Todoroki household, making it easier for you to maintain your wits.

He would never say it but Natsuo truly worried about your sobriety. Every time he left for a trip or wine was passed around at family dinner, he wondered if it would be the day you changed your mind. Sticking with you was easy, though. You did the same for him at his low point and he would never stop doing it for you.

“She smokes, you know that?”

Natsuo nods, Touya’s raspy voice breaking the silence caused by his brother’s overthinking. “Have to let her have one vice, you know?”

“I think you forget that you weren’t the only person who had to live through that fucking horrifying life! It didn’t just go away when you did.”

Your voice cracks as you raise it at your brother in law, his turquoise eyes wide as he watches you yell with an intensity that leaves your hands shaking. He has never looked more like your husband than he does now, the same white hair sticking up on top of his head, his fingers carding through it and yanking the strands as he paces your living room floor.

“There are times I don’t think you realize that your actions have always had consequences because you’ve truly faced so few of them,” you feel your face flame as Touya’s expression turns from surprised to angry. “You didn’t have to clean up the messes. I did.”

Seeing the similarities makes something inside of you crack, a piece of your heart perhaps, your chest heaving. Regret consumes your mind; you’ve gone too far. You struggle to catch your breath, rubbing your fingers over your cheeks to hide evidence of your tears. Silence blankets the room like a dense fog.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your voice sounds meek and thin even to your own ears, the screaming match you have been engaged in rendering your throat raw. Painfully, you swallow what little spit you can and shut your eyes tightly as you listen to Touya’s rhythmic footfalls. Taking a deep breath, you sink into an armchair and dab at your eyes with the back of your hands, opening them long enough to see Touya staring intently at you. You drop your hands and sigh.

“I can’t imagine what you have been through,” you hiccup, warm tears sliding down your cheek and dripping onto your wrists where they sit in your lap. “But you weren’t the only one going through it and I hope your brother can forgive me for saying all of this to you.”

The white haired man remains silent as you rise from your chair, hands balled into fists at your sides. Your gaze turns directly to him and you sniffle, tears subsiding.

“He has always loved you despite everything you’ve done, exactly as you are. Please remember that.”

The words feel cathartic to say aloud, astute eyes narrowing to watch you as you turn on your heel and begin to walk away. Your tense posture tells him exactly how you feel about the entire situation and you reason that giving Touya space seems like the best option to end the strange battle of wills the two of you have found yourselves in.

The gravelly sound of Touya’s voice from over your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

“Then I owe it to him to try.”

There is no apology to be found in the words but you swear you can feel it as he says them, looking over your shoulder. For the first time you don’t see Dabi or Touya, you see someone completely new - your brother in law. A blank canvas, someone you could perhaps get to know under better circumstances.

“We both owe it to him,” you respond as you turn around and make your way back to the chair you were sitting in moments ago, sitting stiffly against the back of the chair, shoulders still held tensely by your ears. “But how do we begin?”

Touya sighs and sits opposite you, rubbing his hands over his face as he rests his elbows on his knees.

“Hi, I’m Touya.” You laugh for the first time in a week and he can’t hide the half smile that comes across his face. “I did some fucked up things and spent eight years paying for them but I fucking love my family.” He stomps his foot, emphasizing his point. “That includes you now so we better get our shit together, yeah?”

Another tear falls as you nod, a watery smile settling over your features.

“Yeah, we should.”

A year later, when you think of your brother in law Touya, a memory from your childhood comes to your mind.

You are six, maybe seven and at the zoo. Your parents hold both of your hands dutifully to make sure you don’t run off, squeezing your tiny palms between theirs as you excitedly gasp and croon at birds, snakes, and butterflies. A flamingo makes you shout, a duck makes you quack.

Steps slow down as the three of you approach a large glass enclosure. “Black panther - panthera pardus” says the sign extending from the ground in front of the glass. You don’t know that, of course, until your dad reads it aloud to you, asking you to repeat the name.

“Panthera,” you repeat, a tiny voice bouncing back at you off of the glass.

As if you summoned the cat itself, it appears and you flinch. Black, lithe, wild eyed with muscles wound so tightly you can see the shape and size of each of them. You wonder if the panther knows how to relax, the same way your mom tells you to when you cry too hard. Maybe he needs to take a deep breath.

“Why does he look so nervous?”

In your young mind, the question surfaced before you had time to think about it. Of course he’s nervous, you reason, all of these people are staring at him like the attraction that he is. A dazzling thing to see locked between four glass walls.

“He isn’t nervous honey, he’s probably just thinking about what he would do if he were outside with us.”

Pondering your mom's polite whisper, you nod and accept the answer. Grown ups always know best anyway.

As a keeper enters the enclosure and carefully stalks toward the cat, your eyes widen in surprise. How can he let someone so close? You wonder if you could ever get that close to him. To see the sunlight in his fur just enough to reveal the spots under the dark of his coat or to watch his ears twitch as he listens for sounds of danger. Would he ever trust you? Could you trust him?

The crowd around the glass increases in size, delighted whoops as the keeper dangles the cleaned carcass of a large bird above the panther. You drink in the way he crouches and springs, tight muscles unwinding for a moment as large paws capture the food between them.

A sight you’ll never forget.

A sight you see as Touya stalks through the living room of your home, tightly running his fingers through his hair. Muscles taut, standing and walking but trying to simultaneously fold in on himself.

“What the fuck would they even want to talk about?”

You sigh, shrugging at his words. The “they'' in question is the Commission and one year after his monitored release, he has been asked to return before the panel and answer some questions. Natsuo sits next to you on the floor in front of the chabudai, sorting through the papers sent to him to review ahead of Touya’s scheduled meeting. The three of you only found out about the date today.

“I dunno, Touya,” your husband shoots a bit impatiently toward his brother. “Let me read this and then I’ll tell you.”

Silently, you watch as he scans the documents, flipping them between his fingers. You hear the heavy pounding of Touya’s footsteps across the floor, reverberating through the otherwise silent room. Your house is too quiet. There is no crowd to filter out the silence.

“Potential restoration of privileges,” you hear Natsuo mutter from beside you. He continues to read to himself and you wonder what that truly entails. Would Touya be released from his supervised period completely? Would he be allowed to wander more than 50 feet away from his guardians?

“God Natsu, read faster.”

Natsuo’s eyes shoot a frosty glance toward Touya from over the top of the papers in his hands. Placing them on the table, your husband sighs.

“They want to see your progress and maybe give you a little more freedom.”

Touya freezes in place for a mere second before turning on his heel and rushing to the edge of the table to snatch the documents and look over them, brows furrowed in concern that this is some evil trick the two of you have decided to pull on him. Revenge for the last twelve months of him and his fits, his angry words, his snarling.

You’ve realized during the months he’s more meow than he is hiss.

“But,” Natsuo starts, clearing his throat, Touya tossing the papers back on the table and interrupting his brother with a clear as day “fuck!”, beginning to pace once again. “We have to give testimony.”

The royal we is something Touya has hated since the day he moved into your home. It always makes him feel as if it’s two against one, no separation between yourself and Natsuo and how you feel about the situation. He assumes if you’re mad at him, his brother is too. If you’re frustrated with Touya drinking the last of your nice matcha, Natsuo must be too. If you’re angry at Touya for dying his hair black in your bathtub and staining the shiny white tiles, Natsuo must be too.

He’s wrong about that, of course, his brother never holding any of his minor blunders against him. You don’t either but it would be tougher to convince Touya to believe that than it would be to build a house by hand, despite the tentative peace that exists between the two of you. You’ve allowed him into your home, your world, your once peaceful little family and have found that you are better for it. Natsuo is better for it. But there will always be a level of distrust.

Like that panther you think of so often, Touya must wonder what it would be like to be free and trusted.

“Touya, I don’t know how to say this,” Natsuo says, trying to keep his tone even and calm despite how anxious you know he must be feeling. You feel your stomach drop as well, balling the fabric of your linen pants between your palms to keep your hands from shaking. You looked at the date on the documents and noticed that it was a day you knew he’d be unavailable, working on a particularly tough case with multiple children from one family. “I can’t do it.”

Touya chuckles, a bitter and hollow sound that makes you flinch. “Of course not.”

“She can, though.”

Unexpectedly, Touya’s bitter chuckle turns into a belly laugh. You wonder if he’ll double over from the strength of it, scarred hands clutching his middle. Natsuo stands, approaching his brother carefully.

“Her?” He points at you and you feel like the one being questioned. Despite the grasp on the thighs of your pants, your hands do shake and your fingers slip. “She probably wishes I would have died every single day despite the little “play nice” bullshit she does for your sake.”

Gasping at the accusation, you hope he can’t see the way your eyes glance downward. You had assumed the two of you were past this, arguments coming to a halt around six months ago when you told him you simply didn’t have the energy for them anymore.

You then began taking him to pick up cigarettes every other day, riding in your car together silently but comfortably. His fingers always drum against his thighs impatiently and you clear your throat, mouth dry until you arrive. You have to be close to him the entire time but you linger on the edges of the small shop in your neighborhood, giving the elderly shopkeeper time to fuss over Touya the way he needs.

The two of you then silently ride back to your home.

“How could you say that, Touya?”

Much like the smaller version of you felt compelled to speak outside of the gleaming panther exhibit, you do the same now. Your voice sounds weak, thin, defeated. Natsuo rushes to your side, kneeling back down and placing one of his large arms around your shoulder.

��Oh here we go, gotta rush to defen -”

Touya’s words are cut off by a sharp glance from his brother, a look he has never seen before. Smothering all of the fire inside of him, hurting the one person who has endlessly forgiven him, he is doused by humility.

“I don’t hate you,” you look up and see Touya’s turquoise eyes that are narrowed and hard staring directly at you. “I don’t wish you were dead,” you continue as you shrug your husband’s arm off of you and begin to stand. “In fact, I was stupid and thought we were finally fucking past all of this!”

Punctuating your shout with a frustrated grunt, you stomp off down the hallway and leave the brothers to figure it out amongst themselves. Natsuo would simply have to find a way to make the date work for him because you couldn’t bring yourself to beg the Commission to be merciful toward someone who detests you so much. You aren’t a big enough person for that, lacking the careful compassion of your husband.

“Are you fucking serious, Touya?”

Natsuo cursing at his brother makes his steely gaze falter, eyes glancing downward toward the floor. Touya remembers a time you went too far, not long after he first moved into your home, and he feels guilty knowing he has done the same.

“Whatever,” Touya responds dismissively as he stomps off.

Natsuo hears the back door slam and rubs his hand over his face, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. He’s transported back to 12 long months ago when he didn’t even want to be in the same room as the two of you, the tension making him incapable of dealing with his own uncertainty about the ability to rehabilitate his brother.

As Touya steps outside into the cool air, far less suffocating than the inside of the house, he fishes around in his pockets for his lighter and mutters obscenities as he realizes it is inside. Of course, he still can’t use his quirk thanks to the very strong suppressants he has to take daily as part of his release, so he flings the door back open and stomps inside.

Hearing hushed muttering from the living room, he closes the door quietly and creeps to the doorway of the kitchen. He shoves himself against the wall, trying to hide from view as he hears your voice.

“I don’t understand why he won’t give me a chance, Natsu.”

His brother sighs and Touya sinks further against the wall. He knows the sound - fed up, frustrated, struggling. Natsuo is the last person he ever wanted to create those feelings in and shame, a bit of an unfamiliar feeling for him, creeps up his spine and makes his stomach turn.

“You didn’t exactly make the best first impression, of course he doesn’t completely trust you.”

Natsuo’s words make you blow out air in frustration. Touya can’t see you, but he imagines you look as downtrodden as you always have after these little battles. His brother’s defense of his behavior is surprising, though, and he idly rubs his thumb across one of the graft scars on his hands.

“I know,” you relent with a sniff. “I know.”

Your words shift Touya’s perspective, precious humility trickling over him and making his left eye twitch - a stress reflex he tried to hide for years.

You were the first person who noticed it and on your usual trip to the small store to pick up his cigarettes after, you passed him a box of anti-inflammatory medication and a bottle of eyedrops wordlessly as you buckled into your seat. He hasn’t twitched since.

Acknowledging the hurt you’ve caused is the first step of atonement, he remembers reading in a book Natsuo brought him while he was still locked up.

He peeks from around the wall, stretching his arms over his head and locking his fingers on the back of his skull, buried in poorly dyed black hair. Natsuo looks up through his light eyelashes at his brother who approaches carefully, settling on the opposite side of the table from where the pair of you sit.

“You can do it.”

The words are simple and cause both you and Natsuo to look up. Touya refuses to meet your puffy eyes and rises back to standing as quickly as he sat, slapping the tabletop once before skulking down the hallway to grab his lighter.

You and Natsuo resolve not to ask questions, with only two weeks until the panel meets time is of the essence and your testimony will be key to helping Touya if you choose to help him.

Sitting in front of the panel is more nerve-wracking than you expected. A group of five familiar faces all staring at you with discerning eyes as you shuffle the hand-written pages of your testimony between your fingers.

These people have rummaged through your home on more than one occasion, interviewed all of your close friends and family, sifted through every piece of your dirty laundry and you’re at their mercy once again but this time you’re more willing.

“You may begin as you wish, Todoroki-san.”

Nodding respectfully toward the head of the panel, you clear your throat and exhale as you look down at the papers in your hands. You can feel Touya looking at you from across the room, Fuyumi and Shouto seated beside him and Rei on the other side of his sister, but refuse to look up at them for fear it’ll make the little courage you’ve summoned disappear.

“When Touya first moved into our home, I was uncertain of his ability to be rehabilitated.”

You spent the last two weeks reading this exact same speech to Natsuo, rehearsing it in your bedroom while pacing across the floor. The ink on the page is smeared in places from wet tears that dripped down onto the paper, black bleeding into blue and drying into rippled and raised spots. Those spots remind you of Touya, the way he has woven his way into part of your everyday existence.

“The process of allowing him into our lives felt very invasive. Respectfully, our lives were torn apart in preparation for him. Our home was combed through, our mail was intercepted, my husband was followed by a member of this committee on his way home from the clinic he tirelessly uses as a means to help others on more than one occasion.”

You keep your tone even to avoid sounding accusatory. These are all facts the Commission themselves have confirmed via their own documentation but standing in the face of the very force that can decide your future as well as Touya’s is more intimidating than you expected.

“The day Touya moved in, our lives shifted in a way that no amount of preparation could have made us anticipate. Difficult interpersonal dynamics forced us to take a good hard look at the future of our family and the future of what we desired for Touya. How did we want his rehabilitation to look?”

Taking a breath, you look up from the sheet of paper for a moment to meet Touya’s gaze and it strikes you as odd to see something almost tender. You sniff, nose twitching, vowing to hold yourself together until you’re alone or with Fuyumi or anywhere but sitting in front of people who have made their living off of judging, doling out punishment, changing lives for better or worse.

“While we’ve had many difficult times, I am not here to talk about the difficulty I caused Touya with my inability to coexist for the first several months. Rehabilitation takes a team and I was not a team player,” you pause and hear shuffling from the seats across the room. “Despite this, Touya has dedicated himself to improvement and has continually adhered to every request the commission put forth in the original terms of his release.”

While you don’t want to continue to air out your dirty laundry, there is a therapeutic feeling in knowing you’re publicly admitting to handling things wrong. In front of Natsuo’s family, nonetheless. Touya’s family. Your family.

At the end of this lies the fact that you are all a family and forgiveness is inherently woven through the relationships and bonds you share.

“It is the recommendation of both my husband and I that Touya’s privileges of release be expanded upon, including reduction of supervision and permission to travel to the homes of his mother and siblings independently if he chooses.”

Rising to your feet, you bow before the panel once more before walking toward the back of the room and quietly exiting as they take time to deliberate and make their decision.

Touya rises and comes to the front of the room, standing before them. He hates the way he feels, like a caged animal with his muscles tensed, in a suit that doesn’t even belong to him because why the fuck would he ever own a suit? The sleeves are too long, it is Shouto’s after all, and he pulls the cuffs over his hands with his thumbs.

The panel head speaks and the room is so quiet you’re even unnerved from the other side of the door. Pressing your ear to the wood, you listen.

“Our decision will not be immediate. You can expect further communication from the panel in the coming weeks. As of right now, your terms of release remain the same until you are otherwise notified. Thank you for your time today, Todoroki-san.”

Touya bows and joins his family, missing the member he wishes to see the most.

You back away from the door as you hear the knob turn and rest against the wall, arms over your chest as you greet your in-law’s with a subdued smile.

“Natsu will be so proud of you!” Fuyumi beams, rubbing your bicep in a comforting gesture. You just shrug, unable to speak. You exchange a few additional pleasantries with Shouto and Rei, wishing them goodbye as they leave you and Touya standing on opposite sides of the hallway.

“It’s okay, you know.”

Touya’s voice is a rasp, as always, and you look up through your eyelashes at him. Fiddling uncomfortably with the cuff of your shirt in the same way he’s been fiddling with his own cuffs all day, it just further emphasizes the similarities you share. It isn’t just love for Natsuo you have in common anymore.

“None of this shit has been easy and you’ve done your best. I’m not exactly a fuckin’ easy person to get along with.”

You chuckle, tension diffusing.

“I think you’re going soft, Touya.”

He chuckles back and your eyes meet, the two of you walking toward the center of the hallway to leave the building together and walk back to your car. Your footsteps are quiet and so are his, both of you slumping as you saunter out of the door and into the bright midday sun.

“Nah, just tired of being an asshole all the time.”

The news comes as you stand at your kitchen sink, Touya bent over as you help him rinse black hair dye down the drain. Your hands are wet, his shirt is soaked, but you agreed to help him after noticing a huge white patch still at the back of his head from his attempts to do it himself.

“I dunno why you want it to be black so bad, don’t you want to look like Natsu?”

Touya snorts and the sound echoes through the steel basin. “I have to keep a little edge. Let me live.” You shut off the clean running water, allowing the dark droplets to work their way out of your sink. There was more rinsing to do but you wanted to be sure of how much more.

“It’s here!” Natsuo shouts from the doorway and you hear his hurried, large footsteps trek into the room, ripping of paper ringing in your ears.

You want to leave Touya’s side and go to Natsuo, to read over his arm, to see for yourself but you resolve to be patient and continue to lightly massage Touya’s scalp. He needs comfort right now, you can tell.

“Expansion of privileges,” Natsuo mutters to himself, scanning the page as quickly as he can. “Unsupervised access to other family homes! Holy shit!”

Tossing the papers onto the counter, your husband bolts toward you and wraps his arms around your waist. “No, no, no,” you chant as he picks you up and you accidentally pull Touya’s wet strands of hair. He yelps and you let go, hissing apologetically.

“God Natsuo, down boy.”

Your snarky brother-in-law draws a giggle from you as your husband presses a kiss against your cheek and reaches down to slap him on the back. “Do you wanna tell mom or should I?” Touya looks up, head still dripping, and rolls his eyes at his brother. “I could just show up at her house, that’d have more impact.”

Wiggling away from Natsuo, you reach for the towel on the counter and wrap it around Touya’s neck so he can sit up and not drip black water all over your floor. He gives silent thanks in the form of a tight half smile and you smile back, stepping away to let the brothers converse about how they’re going to break the news to their siblings.

As you watch the two of them, the panther and his handler once again come back to your mind.

The reason that the handler was able to come so close to the cat is because he trusted him. The cat could learn to trust others, to let people in, to let them be on his side. You won’t have to wonder if you could have gained the panther’s trust any longer and he won’t have to wonder what it’s like to be on the outside with the rest of us.

#natsuo todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x reader #kendall writes #the double feature lmfao

198 notes · View notes

triviallytrue · 7 months ago

Note

Do you have any beginner's advice for Balatro? Because I'm having good fun around 8 hours in, but figuring out how to actually win is a struggle. My usual instinct in deckbuilders is to thin out the deck as much as possible, but starting with a full 52 makes that a lot less viable.

Yes I have lots and I will do my best not to write several thousand words

Are you playing on the beta? All the achievements and unlocks transfer over, and I think the beta is friendlier and has better balance than the original release of the game.

Number one thing new players fuck up: the interest mechanic is everything. You have to save up to $25 and get that extra $5 of passive income per round, it is in many cases the difference between a winning run and a run that stalls out in the later antes.

Relatedly, I tend to try and find a strong earlygame joker in the first two shops (usually a +mult joker for playing a specific hand) and then save my money unless I see a run-defining joker/voucher until I'm over $25.

Once you have >$25, don't be afraid to spend your money back down to $25. Packs first, then rerolls.

Most skips in most situations are bad. There are some that are good in ante 1 (the coupon tag, the holographic tag, and the investment tag) and a few that can be good later (double money when you have a lot of money, the orbital tag when it's on the hand you're playing already, the handy tag when it's a ton of money)

Your instinct to thin out the deck and your concern that 52 cards is a lot are both correct. Hanged Man and Immolate are both great, as are jokers that let you destroy cards like Trading Card. Keep at it.

Relatedly, purple seals from spectral packs and jokers that generate tarot cards are incredibly powerful. Purple seals specifically are self-enabling - you can use death cards from purple seals to copy more purple seals and hanged man to thin out your deck so you draw more purple seals.

In the early stages before you've unlocked all jokers and decks, a lot of powerful tools are hidden from you. If you aren't beating runs, focus on unlocking locked jokers.

If you want a sense of what a really good player looks like, I recommend Balatro University - he is excellent at the game and also has some videos specifically designed for new players.

#balatro

123 notes · View notes

hellsite-proteins · 28 days ago

Note

Are there ways to actually "program" cells to produce these proteins? Like if you fed ribosomes the right RNA sequence, would it synthesize a bullshit protein molecule that does nothing useful, or would it start falling apart immediately in reality? My knowledge on DNA splicing is old and I know near nothing about proteins so I'm just curious if it'd ever be possible to get a real world representation of anything on your blog (setting aside the cost and effort it would take to do that)

yes there is! and you actually got pretty close, but you have to go a bit further back and use DNA (there are ways of delivering RNA to cells, but I haven't done that personally, and for something like protein purification that would not be the method of choice, so I won't be going into that. there are two main ways of inserting coding DNA into cells: using a transient expression plasmid and gene editing. note: all of these will be very brief overviews, so if you want more detail about any part of this, then please ask!

first i'll go over the simpler method which is using plasmids. i've been doing a lot of molecular cloning lately specifically to put proteins into expression vectors so i can purify them and do some work with the pure protein, which is what i assume you would want to do here. (sidetone: once you have some purified protein, there are a number of different things you can do to find out its sequence or structure, but that is a whole other post). plasmids are circular bits of DNA outside of the genome that are not necessary for survival, but carry useful information. most of the ones used in labs will also have an antibiotic resistance gene or some other marker so we can select for only the cells with the plasmid by growing them in media with the right drug. using specific enzymes, we can cut these plasmids and then insert a new fragment of DNA coding for whatever we want, before sealing them back up. Then, a small amount of the plasmid can be transformed into cells (bacteria and yeast are commonly used), which will multiply and make more of your plasmid, as well as whatever it encodes if the conditions are right!

Genome editing is a broad topic, so i'm just going to give you a quick overview of CRISPR-Cas9, which I have a bit of experience with. this isn't something i would do if i just wanted to make a lot of a given protein, but it is useful to look at how much of a protein is made under the native expression system within a cell, or to edit the sequence of a protein being made (and much more...). Cas9 makes a cut in both strands of genomic DNA, but the really neat thing about this is that you can easily tell it specifically where to cut. to do this, you will build a plasmid with the gene for the Cas9 protein, as well as the guide RNA matching the sequence where you want the cut to be. there are other design considerations, but i'll save that for now. once the DNA has been cut, the cell starts to panic and try and stick it back together, but not before some random bases get added and/or deleted from either of the broken ends. this is useful if you want to knock out a gene, because you can go in and mess up its promoter or something similar so that it never gets made. if that is too messy and random, or if you want to knock something in instead of knocking it out, you can also take advantage of the cell's repair mechanisms. if a double stranded break happens, the cell would prefer to fix it properly, and so it will try and remake the DNA using the other matching chromosome as a template. but, if you add in another plasmid instead that contains sequences matching either side of the break with something you want to add in sandwiched in between them, you can make the DNA repair itself with your new sequence!

finally, all of this assumes that the protein would be successfully translated, and would not be so toxic to cells that anything expressing it dies. we would need to add a methionine (start) to the beginning of nearly all of these sequences, and ideally codon optimize them for the specific organism. ordering the custom DNA sequences also wouldn't be cheap, but is also not impossible. an inducible expression system would also help reduce the risk of toxicity and let us make a lot at once if we so desired. we would probably also want to add a tag to make these easier to purify if we wanted to use the protein itself.

again i am not great at being brief and i have no idea how much the average person knows about any of this, so please ask more if anything i've said needs clarification!

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

AretherewaystactallyprgramcellstprdcetheseprteinsLikeifyfedrismestherightRNAseqencewlditsynthesieallshitprteinmleclethatdesnthingseflrwlditstartfallingapartimmediatelyinrealityMyknwledgenDNAsplicingisldandIknwnearnthingatprteinssImstcrisifitdeverepssiletgetarealwrldrepresentatinfanythingnyrlgsettingasidethecstandeffrtitwldtaketdthat

protein guy analysis:

you know that feeling when you're writing a test and aren't really sure what the answer is, but you try and put down everything you know in the hopes of getting some part marks? i feel like that's what this protein looks like. there is an assortment of secondary structures all spread out between loops and even a beta sheet, as if AlphaFold was trying its best to make something out of this. still, it doesn't look the way we would expect from an ordered protein, and i do not trust it.

predicted protein structure:

#science #biochemistry #biology #chemistry #stem #proteins #protein structure #science side of tumblr #protein asks #protein info #cloning #CRISPR

38 notes · View notes

ellewritesalright · 1 year ago

Text

Second Best - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 2 --- Masterlist --- Part 4

A/N: Hello! Look at me with two updates in one month, who'd have thought? Buckle in for this one, it's twice as long as the last part. Once again, I hope it is coherent enough :) and again, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and low-key abusive parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please), not 100% proofread

Word Count: 4670

..........

Being without a fiance was an unfortunate circumstance. All your life you had witnessed young women like you being paraded around in hopes that they would find suitors even richer than their families, but because the Antonovs had made their deal with the king and queen so long ago, you never had to participate in such dreadful activities. In the past month since your disbanded engagement, you had attended three large gatherings and hosted many more as your parents frantically searched for someone worthy enough to marry into the family.

As you wound down for the evening, feet killing you and your head a bit buzzed from all the wine of another party, you slunk over to your vanity. After removing your makeup, you reached into the top drawer, trailing your fingers across its ceiling where you'd tacked a letter. It had arrived in the morning, after breakfast when you were by yourself in the library. But you'd yet to read it, too busy with your parents' antics to hide away and comb through the words. With a brief admiration of the double-eagle seal, you grabbed your letter opener and cut it open.

The handwriting was long and there were lovely loops in the 'p's and 'g's; you smiled to yourself as your eyes followed their rounded paths. Nikolai was always perfectly composed, and so were his letters. This was the third one you'd received, and he wrote of more possible suitors for you. There were some more details about his day-to-day in response to a few light-hearted queries you had posed in your last response. When he asked for embellishment on your ideas of mechanical updates at your family's estate you were so eager to start drafting your response that you almost tipped over your ink canister.

He had also requested that you assess the suitors recommended in his previous letter, and you frowned as you rated them.

Each one was well-bred and richer than the last, but none felt right. There was always something wrong with them, like wandering eyes, or a terrible way of spitting when speaking, or one suitor who had kissed your hand so sloppily you thought a hickey would form. They were all unattractive in their own ways, and you wrote as much in your letter to the king. In your closing, you made sure to thank him again for looking out for you. It was too kind of him.

At the end of this most recent letter, he said that he enjoyed playing matchmaker. Apparently, it was a brief and welcome reprieve from the hard topics of war and politics. If he wasn't exaggerating this fact, your thanks would likely mean nothing to him, but you thanked him nonetheless.

You grazed a finger across his signature at the bottom of his letter. Yours truly, Nikolai.

If your hand had not reached up to your mouth in a moment of contemplation, you might have missed the smile that etched itself onto your lips, but the shape of it was unmistakable beneath your touch. You banished that smile and went to bed, trying to banish Nikolai from your mind as well, but finding it more than a little difficult. The swooping lettering of Yours truly was printed on the inside of your eyelids.

……….

“How did you enjoy the first act of the ballet, Lord and Lady Antonov?”

Your head twisted around to see Nikolai standing at the doorway to your family’s opera box. Your father politely stood from his seat and bowed to the king while you and your mother bowed your heads. You softly grinned at Nikolai, keeping your excitement measured in front of your parents.

“It was overdone,” your mother replied.

“Quite,” nodded your father.

“I think it is rather lovely so far,” Nikolai said. He looked at you. “And your thoughts, my lady?”

You looked up at your friend. “I think it is overdone, yet charmingly so. I rather enjoyed the dance with the foxes; the dancers all moved remarkably like canines."

Nikolai grinned and nodded. "That has also been my favourite part so far."

"And the sets are just magnificent."

"Aren't they?"

You both smiled at one another for a moment. A moment that was broken by your father clearing his throat.

"What brings you to our box, your highness?" Your father asked.

Nikolai looked over at him, smiling politely. "I was actually coming to introduce a friend of mine to your family." Nikolai gestured to the door, and you noticed a man about ten years your senior standing there that you hadn't noticed when Nikolai walked in. "This is Lord Alexei Alianovic. Alexei, this is Lord and Lady Antonov and their daughter."

Lord Alexei bowed to you and your parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lord and Lady Antonov." He smiled at you. "And you, my lady. His highness has told me much about you."

"All good things I hope," you said with a gentle expression as you glanced between him and Nikolai. The king had a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at you.

"Quite," Alexei nodded.

"Alianovic? You're Lord Dmitri Alianovic's son?" Your father asked him.

"I am, sir."

Your mother looked pleased, which couldn't bode well for you.

Your mind quickly cycled through everything you knew about the Alianovics, trying to find something wrong. The Alianovics were wardens of a large stretch of southern Ravka. But Lord Dmitri was rather old and would likely die in a short manner of years, leaving his entire estate to his heir, Alexei. The Alianovics were an old and reputable Ravkan family too, with a few blood ties to the royal family from many decades back; Alexei would be Nikolai's very distant cousin, then.

Looking between him and Nikolai again, you could see no resemblance. Not in hair colour, eye colour, face shape, bone structure, or even stature. Lord Alexei was tall and lanky, with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes and a charming mustache. Nikolai was also younger by about ten years. Still, Alexei was decently handsome for a suitor.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice how your parents had seemed to step closer to Alexei like a pair of vultures.

"I should give my condolences for your loss, Lord Alexei," your father suddenly said. You didn't like the calculation in his brow. "What a terrible thing it is to lose the person you love."

Alexei's expression drooped a bit. "Thank you, lord Antonov."

"It is a great tragedy that your daughter will grow up without her mother," Lady Antonov said to him.

That's rich, coming from you, you thought to yourself as you held back a scoff.

You looked between your parents and Alexei, who was growing paler by the second. Now that they mentioned it, you remembered that the Alianovic heir was a young widower with a little daughter. His wife had died in some horrible horse riding accident.

"Ana is too young to know any different," Alexei said sadly. "Though sometimes it seems like she misses her mother."

You somberly clasped your hands together and offered him a sympathetic look. Unlike your scheming parents, you truly did feel for him.

"It can't be easy to raise a young child on your own, but I am sure you're giving her the best life you can," you smiled softly.

"I've seen him with little Ana; there is no father more attentive and caring than Alexei," Nikolai said. Alexei bowed his head a bit at the compliments.

"Ah, but what life is it for a young girl to live without a mother?" Lady Antonov spoke up again. You nearly glared at her blatant attempt at setting you on this poor man. "When I think of all the things I have taught my own daughter, I can't imagine a man ever understanding what it's like. My daughter knows how close a bond can grow between mothers and daughters--knows how important that relationship is--don't you, my dear?"

She cast you a look; a warning and a warm smile and a quick condescension all rolled into one.

You nodded, holding back the bitter taste that jumped into your throat. You tore your eyes from her to look over at Alexei again.

"I feel for your Ana in what she has lost." You expressed all your empathy as you spoke to him. "The pain of losing a mother is unimaginable… losing someone so important in life, especially as a child, isn't easy for anyone."

Your mother stiffened a touch. Your father did too.

"But you sound like an excellent father to Ana. You should be proud." You softly smiled at him.

Alexei nodded at your words. "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"And you are very patient to have weathered my parents' barrage of questions."

Nikolai almost snorted at your joke. Your parents did not have the same reaction. For a brief second, you saw their anger; then they forced a laugh, playing off your words.

"You'll find our daughter is quite spirited at times, Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov commented. She was still saving face after you'd insulted her and your father.

"I don't mind it," Alexei chuckled quietly. "She has the same humour as my late wife did."

Your parents began engaging Alexei in a real conversation, and Nikolai took the moment to slowly step up beside you.

"Saints, your parent's methods are brutal," he murmured so only you could hear. "Your mother especially."

"Tell me about it." You restrain from rolling your eyes.

Nikolai let his volume grow just slightly as his words became innocuous again. "I'm going to the shore tomorrow."

"As in the shore of the true sea? How long will that take?" You raised a brow.

"My envoy will be gone for a full month. But I promise to write to you." He smiled then grew quiet again. "Can't leave you completely alone with these maniacs, now can I?"

You almost laughed.

Bells outside your opera box signaled that the show was about to continue, so Nikolai and Alexei took their leave. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. At least, until you got into the carriage going home.

"It was good of that impish king to introduce you to Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov began. "He stands to inherit quite a large title from his father, you know."

You nodded then rested your head against the carriage's side wall. "I know, mother."

"Stop slouching," she huffed.

"It is just us three, mother."

"I don't care. You will sit up straight, you stubborn little girl." Her eyes were hard.

You glanced at your father beside you. You were searching for a shred of support from him since sometimes he would not leave you to fight her alone. But tonight he did not offer even a glance in your direction. He just stared boredly at the darkness outside his window.

Your eyes crossed to hers again. Your hand began itching as you sat up straight.

"That's better, daughter of mine." Her hands folded on her lap. "You nearly ruined things tonight."

"Ruined what? Lord Alexei liked me," you said, holding back an eye roll.

"You nearly told him. And the king."

You pursed your lips, scratching at a dotted scar on your knuckle. "I did not."

"You were quite close to it."

"I was not."

"You spoke of loss."

"So?" You sighed heavily. "I was sympathizing with Lord Alexei--and in case you didn't notice, he liked me better for it."

The carriage arrived home and you stepped out before the chauffeur could open the door for you. You hurried inside, heading upstairs to your suite rooms. But Lady Antonov was hot on your tails.

"Stop, dear," she commanded.

You did not stop. You kept climbing the stairs. But she grabbed your arm before you could get inside your room.

"You're a little ingrate, girl, but fortunately you're still my daughter. And as my daughter, you will shut up and do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say."

Her hand tightened on your arm. Her voice was low, but sharp as a hound's bite.

"If I tell you to jump, you'd better be in the air. If I tell you to keep your mouth shut about your beginnings, you'd better sit silently with a pleasant smile on your face and remember how lucky you are to be where you are."

Her other hand went to grip your chin. You could feel her nails dig into your face ever so slightly.

"Do you understand me, daughter?" She hissed.

You nodded, and her grip tightened on your chin.

"I want to hear you say it, girl."

"I understand, mother." You grit out

She kept you locked there for a moment longer, then she let go of you. "Go to bed. You look unkempt."

You said nothing as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You held it together until you got to your bed, then you fell apart. You clamped a hand over your mouth to staunch the sobs as tears poured over onto your cheeks.

……….

A month passed by slowly. You were paraded around by your parents, your mother in particular, to every party and gathering among nobles and high-ups in Os Alta. Each outing was more miserable than the last.

You would dance and drink, and dance and drink, and dance and drink, while your mother plotted conversations and chance encounters with any man she deemed suitable. She had a knack for finding the richest man in the room; no wonder she had married your father all those years ago.

Tonight was one such night like all the rest. Though tonight you promised yourself to abstain from drinking. The hangover after your last outing with your parents had confined you to your bed for half the day, and you needed to keep sharp for tomorrow. Nikolai was returning home from the western shore to a small celebratory dinner at the Grand Palace. He sent an invitation to you with your usual letters, though you could hardly describe them as usual.

What started with Nikolai's quest to find you a suitor had developed into a weekly correspondence that did not stop even as he traveled the country on kingly duties. In fact, your most recent letters from him only contained a couple of names for you to consider. You had written that he must be giving up hope, and he replied that he was vetting potential husbands based on the critiques you had given so far–of which there were plenty to pull from, he mused.

Lady Antonov extended a glass of bubbly to you but you shook your head. She rolled her eyes and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of the glass

"Drink and socialize," she ordered.

"I have the king's dinner tomorrow, mother," you told her.

She suppressed a frown, lowering her voice in case she said anything treason-worthy. "I don't care about that lousy boy and his dinner. General Halinsky was good enough to invite us this evening and I won't have you sulking in the corner. Now, go make nice with all the soldiers. And look for a myriad of medals on their chests, dear. Don't settle for one or two."

With her instructions in your head, you walked about the room, slipping in and out of conversations with ease. The older men all wore many honourable medals pinned to their jackets, and the younger ones wore few. Conversation flowed better with the young men, while the older men spoke of things that had no bearing in your life. They laughed about old missions across the fold and complained about the decline of the nation. You tried to boost this perception, saying how you believed in the king's abilities, but they were quick to dismiss you.

"King Nikolai is too involved in the first army," the evening's host, General Halinsky, griped. "The old king used to leave the commanding to real commanders, but our boy king thinks he can boss us all around just because his daddy got him a few medals and promotions during his time as a soldier."

You took the opportunity to defend him. "His highness earned those promotions on the battlefield. He--"

"He made major by 17. I made major by 23. The boy obviously had help from his father."

"What an unfortunate and incorrect assumption on your part, General," you said with a bright smile, the kind of smile that these men expected to see from a young woman like you. "His highness got the promotion at 17 because he was obviously better at the job than you ever were."

You walked off after that, absorbing yourself in a discussion between two younger soldiers of the benefits of first and second army mingling. You sipped on your drink and politely smiled back at Halinsky anytime you felt his eyes driving into the side of your head. You upset the host, and your mother was guaranteed to be livid, but you couldn't care less. If defending Ravka's king made people upset, then maybe they deserved to be upset.

One of the young soldiers you were speaking to was laughing at your mediocre jokes with the fervour of a dog playing fetch. Only two medals were pinned to him, and you pitied his efforts in this losing battle. He seemed nice enough, but nice isn't a quality your mother would forgive two medals for. Rich would do better, but he lacked the obnoxious refinement to be truly wealthy.

Your father permitted you to go home early after you sweetly lied and said you had a terrible headache. You didn't see your mother's face as you left, but you were sure she'd be furious. It was her thought that you were more salable when you were there to be paraded around. Without you present, any talks of you would be diminished.

Still, you were in no mood to stay.

By the time you were in your carriage travelling home, you felt exhausted. With a sour taste in your mouth, you thought about how this was yet another outing that proved unsuccessful. Not a single one of the men you'd met merited any sort of consideration.

While you normally would have written to Nikolai or read one of his letters after a night like this, you didn't have anything to write which couldn't be said to him at his dinner. You would speak with him then, and all would be right.

……….

Dinner was four courses of quick conversation and good-natured travel stories, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were sat with one-third of the Grisha triumvirate to your left and a West Ravkan captain Nikolai brought back with him on your right. You were one of the only guests not part of the first or second army, and you could count on one hand the number of guests middle-aged or older. It was a young and well-versed group Nikolai pulled together.

As the king and one of his long-time first army friends recalled an embarrassing moment in their training to the eager ears of a heartrender and several first army soldiers, you turned to David, asking him about his recent work. He had your complete attention as he described a sort-of rocket launcher that was meant to couple with an inferni’s abilities.

The captain on your other side joined your conversation at this point, and he maintained a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to figure out the schematics of David’s new contraption. You had to admit, the captain was easy on the eyes, with a decent jawline and an endearing batch of freckles on his face. You suspected that Nikolai didn't have a singular focus of politics when bringing him to Os Alta. Based on your limited conversation over dinner, the captain met all of your criteria thus far; he was handsome, conversational, and he had a sweet disposition that hadn't been spoiled by the hardship he'd endured in war.

Though you still had to wonder what kind of financial situation he was in; your mother considered anyone with less than two villas a pauper, so she had high standards when it came to the wealth of a suitor. You doubted that whatever amount of wealth the captain had would suffice.

Some of the Grisha returned to the Little Palace after dinner, but most of the guests stuck around. Those who remained were directed to the drawing room after dinner, and you followed after the group, slowing your steps as you travelled through the gallery. Your eyes wandered the portraits and landscapes, closely following every brushstroke.

You halted completely when you looked up at a picture of the royal family. In this depiction, Nikolai was about the same age as he was when you first met him. A frown encroached on your lips as you stared at the oil painting. To think you might have married him. You might have walked past this painting for the rest of your life, but you let your resentment at your parents bubble over and you sided against them in the argument of your engagement. Now it didn't look like you would find anyone to marry.

"You'd better hurry or the brandy will be gone," Nikolai said as he sidled up beside you, a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Then it's good I'm not known to drink brandy."

He grinned. “So you’ve chosen to admire the gallery, then?”

“Correct,” you said as you pointed at a painting of a harbour. “I don’t understand how artists do it. How they can commit the real world to canvas like that.”

“You’re quite the artist yourself,” he said with a small smirk. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled again. “That drawing that you sent with your second last letter? Of the stuffed bear you had as a child?”

You rolled your eyes. “I only drew that because you expressly commanded a sketch of him after I briefly mentioned him in a letter."

“Well, I wished to know what this beloved bear looked like,” he playfully defended. “You can’t blame me for that. Besides, it was a lovely drawing.”

“That sketch was abysmal; I’m no artist,” you sighed.

“I thought it was a perfectly charming drawing of… remind me of the bear’s name again?”

You huffed softly. “Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

"I called him Vik."

“And who gave you Vik?”

“A friend,” you answered truthfully, despite how much you knew you should lie.

“A friend,” echoed Nikolai. “Was he a brown bear?”

“No, he was grey.”

“Grey? That is rather unusual,” he grinned. “And, let me guess, you were so attached to Vik that you took him all the way with you to Ketterdam and back as a little travel companion."

Your heart raced. You shouldn’t be telling him more about this. You sighed and scratched the back of your hand. The tiny dotted scar on your knuckle itched like nothing else as your thumb soothed over it.

"Actually, no. We parted ways many years ago when I was five. Firepox spread through our household and I fell ill with it. Once it ran its course and I recovered my parents insisted that all my toys should be burned for risk of future infection."

He frowned softly. "That's too bad."

"It is," you admitted quietly.

A moment of quiet settled in the tall gallery as you both stood there. It was a sad memory you’d just divulged, and a memory that your parents would rake you across the coals for if they knew you’d told him. Still, a part of you was glad to tell him that. You rarely thought about the artifacts of your childhood, let alone voiced their ghostly memories.

Nikolai turned to face the painting nearest to you both. His eyes softened on the portrait of his family.

"That was the last portrait ever painted of my family all together like that. We sat for it only a couple of months before I left for school."

"That was around the same time we first met.”

“We met as infants, I believe,” he said, looking at you again.

You straightened out a bit. “Right. I suppose we did."

"Our second meeting, then. Do you remember it?" He gave a charming smile.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "How could I forget? Lady Antonov made me wear a frilly monstrosity of a dress. It was ghastly."

"I will concede that you looked a bit like a puff pastry," he chuckled. His eyes scanned over the deep purple gown you wore now. "You seem to have developed a better sense of style since then; your gown this evening is quite lovely."

"Thank you," you said softly. Your hands clasped together again as you scratched at the apex of your first knuckle. "If I remember correctly, you barely spoke to me when we met all those years ago."

"I was fourteen, I probably didn't have much to say anyway," he shrugged.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Nikolai stared at you for a moment. It was hard to say if it was his kingly presence or the softness of his hazel eyes that had your chest constricting a bit.

"You want the truth?" He quietly asked, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Yes,” you nodded.

"I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of you. I figured that the less I said, the less I could mess up."

He sounded like a boy as he spoke. His voice was vulnerable and young at that moment, a stark contrast to his broad, regal frame. Outwardly, he presented as a proud and strong figure, but on the inside, there was a youth and inexperience to his words.

"I was always afraid of messing up too. My parents were so insistent about our engagement. To them, I had to be perfect to keep our engagement intact," you quietly confessed. "If I knew we wouldn't end up married I would have stopped trying to be perfect for them a long time ago."

He pursed his lips as his eyes flitted to your hands for a second. You forced your itching fingers to be still, clamping them over your irritated skin.

"I'm sorry for any discomfort you might have endured from your parents since I broke it off. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm used to it." You gave a wry smile. Then you attempted a joke, “Finding a new fiancee is considerably harder than I thought, though.”

“So I've heard,” he chuckled slightly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but every suitor is too much of one thing, not enough of another. It’s an impossible task.”

“I take it that you weren’t charmed by Captain Balandin, then?”

You sighed. “He’s better than most. Kinder, younger, and more handsome than the men my mother pushes me towards, but I don’t know if he’s eligible.”

“He is single if you’re concerned,” Nikolai said as he furrowed his brows.

You shifted on your feet a bit as your face warmed. “This is going to sound incredibly greedy, but is he two villas kind of rich?”

“Two villas? Saints, no. The man is a soldier. He has a modest house in Os Kervo and a less modest apartment here in Os Alta. Otherwise, he travels around with the army.”

“Then my parents would never approve.” You let out an exhale. “Things are looking bleaker, Nikolai.”

“Don’t despair. You’re young, beautiful, clever, and you have an incredible fortune to your name,” he said half jokingly. “I am sure that there are plenty of suitors who meet your lengthy list of requirements.”

“Really? Where?” you groaned softly. You smiled slightly at him, glancing at the other end of the gallery. “I think I'll take that brandy now."

He offered you his arm and escorted you back to the other guests.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist --- Part 4

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny @historianthesecond @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24 @a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x fem!reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fic #grishaverse fanfic #second best

204 notes · View notes

basil-does-arttt · 3 months ago

Text

things i want to see in DMC 6 if DMC 6 ever happens (or even just another installment into the franchise in general):

1: Vergil adopts a black cat and he names it Shadow after the familiar he had as V, and even though its really obvious thats why he got the cat he swears up and down that isn't the reason why he got it

At the same time Dante gets a dog specifically a lab and names it woozy after the force edge in dmc 1

2: while the shit twins are on their escapade in hell, they encounter some true horror shit more akin to RE than DMC but of course enemies are still dealt with in typical stylish fasion. Body horror, psychological horror, a real exploration of the twin's traumas through environmental, visual and audio storytelling

3: Kyrie is back and she actually gets a role that isnt damsel in distress or background character. Let. Her. Fight!!

Adding to 3: Kyrie gets her own custom weapons courtesy of Nico, maybe a sword based off of ones in the Order and a gun to match Nero's Blue Rose. Possibly in an angelic theme, wings and such having a strong motif while also being just as badass as we all know post-dmc 4 Kyrie really is

4: nero gets his own lineup of bosses and he actually kills them all himself, without any outside assistance from other characters. (The only boss he's killed himself is Malphas.)

5: with the shit-twins in Hell theres a fully implemented co-op mode, either split screen or over two machines, where one can play as Vergil and the other as Dante as they travel throughout hell. However if the player so chooses to go it alone, they can choose to play as either of the twins and can switch between them at places like a divinity statue.

6: more exploration into Trish and Lady as characters. Trish by the shit-twins are in hell and can find some stuff regarding her creation perhaps, and Lady by Nero as she helps him out on the surface while the shit-twins are in hell.

7: Vergil gets his own Devil Sword Vergil after Yamato is used to seal the portal between the worlds, but it has to remain as a katana like Dante's remained as a double edged sword.

8: Dante struggling with control over his SDT while they're in hell and Vergil helping him through it

9: cerberus puppies.

10: nero gets his own devil arms that he can use alongside his buster arm mechanic and red queen stays as his default weapon

11: lore exploration on Sparda while the shit twins are in hell

cant think of much else for now might add as i think of shit

#devil may cry #dmc #dante devil may cry #vergil devil may cry #nero devil may cry #trish devil may cry #lady devil may cry

44 notes · View notes

gyunglitter · 1 year ago

Text

the links

- just you dicking around with txt college!au besties

warnings: not edited, kinda long, mentions of gym bros, bitchless behavior, drunk fighting, mentions of camp rock, cursing, prolly should’ve put that last before the other lmao, partying, suspicious tampering with drinks

tags: txtxreader (platonic), non-idol!au, college!au, txt, lag, tomorrowxtogether, lesserafim, hansohee, drabble fics!, bulletpoint fics!

notes: bro i’ve been sitting on this for a while, but since i got sick, i finally had the time to actually write this—not very drabble fic of me, but i hope yall enjoyed it :) feel free to send in asks/requests abt this au!!

⚤ masterlist

just how did this rag tag group get together?

tbh with yall

the losers club took a while to actually get established

we’re talkin the end of the winter semester babes

to be fair tho☝️🤓

each of you were either awkward, antisocial, or autistic

but you all came around eventually

through small and simple means, the hottest friend group came to be!!

yeonjun + taehyun:

met in calc 101 in the winter semester

taehyun needed the class for his major

but yeonjun accidentally stumbled in on the first day and felt too awkward to leave

he tried to play it cool like he totally belonged

but taehyun could tell right when he sat next to him and his gigantic water bottle and protein shake

it only sealed the deal when yeonjun asked to borrow a pencil

“thanks! oh wow…i don’t think i’ve seen a pencil like this”

“it’s a mechanical..?”

“aha, yeaaaaaah…”

they really looked like 🤨 and ✌🏽🤪✌🏽

the both of them simultaneously felt transported back to their high school days

with yeonjun’s jockiness and taehyun’s brutal deadpan

the two intimidated the HELL out of each other😭

they were extremely awkward despite trying to act like they weren’t they totally were

but that hour of calc was pure torture

yeonjun made sure to stay far away from the engineering building after that lmao

it was only when they accidentally ran into each other at the gym that they bonded

after yeonjun almost dropped the bar on himself and his initial spotter got distracted

he swore he was gonna quite literally off himself at that moment

yeonjun was surprised to see the small kid from calc save him from his death with only ONE arm

an arm that was as big as HIS HEAD?!?! :O

after that, the two saw each other very often and became the ultimate Gym Bros🔥💪🏽

which took a lot of emotional work on both ends after their traumatic high school days

but taehyun STANS yeonjun and his diligence to zumba!

while yeonjun admires taehyun’s pull game when they go to the club together!

they became an unlikely platonic match made in heaven :D

soobin + hueningkai:

this friendship was DESPERATE

to be fr

soobin was LONELY :(

he’d be starting his third year of college and had yet to find his forever-friends his therapist promised he’d make once he made it to college!!

it wasn’t until he met his double at the Video and Audio Enthusiasts club meeting

a club created solely to use the conputer and projector room from 5-6pm every thursday to watch jujutsu kaisen without the faculty knowing

soobin had been apart of the club since his sophomore year when it started, but there was only so much socializing he could do with the same three people who come

at least until a very green freshman!kai walked in!!

it was kai’s first semester and first week away from home

and boy was he nervous

his older sister who had just graduated from the same college forced him to sign up for clubs in order to make good friends

she held his precious molang plushie hostage until he came back with proof of signing up for at least one club :(

BUT HE WAS SO OVERWHELMED AT CLUB RUSH??

all these ppl pitching why their club was so great with their bright posters, over enthusiastic campaigners, and loud music blasting from portable speakers???

kai just wanted to go back to his room and down the tub of mint choco he left in his mini fridge

but alas

the things he does for molang !! >.<

he signed up for the audio and visual enthusiasts club solely bc there was only one person manning the table

and she was knocked out

so when he signed up, he skedaddled out of there with the intention of showing up to one meeting before staging a dramatic but undeniable leave of absence

for the rest of the year >:)

little did he know his first day would bring him an adorable, lanky man who would never leave him alone!!

fr tho

soobin saw this 6’0 child who gave off “i WILL bit you” vibes and said

“he’s mine”

and the rest was history tbh

you never really see one without the other with the way they leech on to each other

the two of them honestly are complete angels together

beomgyu + you:

now

YOU TWO

if soobin and kai are angels, yall are the goddamn devils💀

you guys actually met your freshman year

you shared a lot of the same generals, but didn’t interact that much

mainly bc beomgyu was typically either gaming or sleeping in

meanwhile you always showed up to class zooted

unlike your classes that focused on your major, your generals were classes you couldn’t care less about

and your grades sure did show for it😬

your parents and teachers were worried you were gonna flunk out after your first semester and lose your scholarship

it wasn’t until the two of you were thrown together for a group project that things changed

forced proximity trope🥵

but not for the reasons you’re thinking!!

instead of working together, pulling all nighters, and trauma bonding together

you guys were the only ones slacking during all of the group meetings

the both of you succeed in pissing the other members off as yall constantly showed up late, distracted each other with origami cranes/airplanes/SMASH, and once got the group kicked out of the library for trying to secretly smoke a bowl behind the stacks

but you blamed that on beomgyu and his weak lungs

safe to say, you and beomgyu did a great job of alienating yourselves from the other members in your group

(fun fact: soobin was one of them—he HATED yall)

but you two ultimately bonded after skipping one of the meetings when you bumped into each other on campus and decided to go to the arcade down the street instead LMAO

after successfully beating him at the racing games and letting him win the sharpshooter games, the two of you were inseparable!!

especially since yall flunked that class and had to take it again the next semester lmao

you almost lost your scholarship

but for the rest of your classes, beomgyu helped you cram for your exams!

turns out your stoner-gamer-boy-bestie used to be student body vice president in high school??

he helped you pass the rest of your classes your freshman and sophomore years, in exchange you let him collect all your scarabs😭

hueninkai + taehyun:

this friendship is so cute omg

this came during winter semester, after kai established a friendship with soobin and restored some of his self-confidence

and with all his new, interesting classes finally catering to his curious nature

kai had started to branch out of his shell and thrive in the college environment

he still didn’t have any friends besides soobin, but he faced everyday with a bright smile :)

and then there was taehyun

fall semester had not been kind to him, having no time for socializing quite yet :(

poor taehyun at the time was exhausted from his ridiculous workload and would show up to class half dead each morning

BUT IN COMES HYUKA THE ANGEL😭

the two shared a life skills class and were seat mates

kai noticed taehyun’s state each morning

which wasn’t too hard since taehyun was slumped over his desk every morning and only woke up when class started

and sometimes not even then

in response, kai had kindly made a habit of bringing taehyun a coffee each morning and leaving it on his desk :(

not only that, kai was always just a natural energizer!

with his positive attitude and earnest countenance, taehyun couldn’t help but feel ready to take on the day as well !

as thanks, there never failed to be a copy of the answer key to whatever test was coming up on hueningkai’s desk the next day

taehyun really is THAT man🥵

ngl hyuka felt like he had a sugar daddy of sorts at the beginning

but the two have the sweetest friendship after that!!

they’re genuinely so grateful for each other and balance out really well

yeonjun + you + beomgyu:

a friendship that started off contractually

it was the winter semester of your sophomore year and you were in a bit of an artistic drought

the last time your work had taken off was a complete accident

you’d been high off your ass and posted a hodgepodge of the last 10 screenshots in your camera roll, smartly titled “Hell is A Teenage Girl”

it gained so much attention for its authenticity and now you had no idea how to follow THAT up :(

your bestie beomgyu constantly offered to model for you

but you could never take him seriously after he showed up to your house in lingerie so you could “picture him like your french girls”

“that’s not even how it goes, headass”

“it’s called taking ‘creative liberties’, birdbrain—and you’re supposed to be the artist?”

“please…just put some clothes on. i can’t take you seriously when your balls are in my face”

anyways

you were struggling to come up with anything after that stunt

until you saw your muse in him

the him being yeonjun, who came straight from zumba and was currently downing a bowl of ramyeon from the caf

you shared no classes, interests, or mutuals

but one thing you had in common?

you both thought he was hot!!

you had cornered him with the abrupt confession that he had the most "photograph-able" face and you needed to shoot him for a new project of yours

(with compensation, of course)

yall looked like 🫵🙂📷 and ⁉️😗🍜

yeonjun reluctantly agreed since he was broke and needed more ramyeon money

the shoot started off kind of uncomfortable since you two were incredibly awkward

but you eventually warmed up to each other with your terrible jokes that made him die laughing!

you never would've pegged him as a pun-lover, but you were certainly not disappointed :)

as the shoot finished up, you ended up going out for ice cream together

to which beomgyu crashed and ended up fighting with yeonjun about everything under the sun

it all started with yeonjun’s preference for mint choco, that everything started to go up in flames lmao

you were sure yeonjun would want nothing to do with the pair of you after that night

BUT THEN THE PICTURES WENT VIRAL

your work blew up once again and yeonjun got many modelling offers!!

with the newfound clout given to yeonjun, came an unlikely partnership between you two as you brought out the best in each other’s works

and with you, came beomgyu as a package deal

the two eventually ended up bonding as time went on and they discovered they shared many interests

but you were the glue to hold them together for a while since they never failed to get on each other’s nerves

tom and jerry fr🙄

everyone:

after a draining week of school and his zumba class getting cancelled, yeonjun decided he wanted to go to a party

he needed a drink and a good excuse to dance since his feet were happy and his hips were in need of speaking their truth

lucky for him, there was supposed to be a CRAZY RAGER this weekend

yeonjun was told it was thrown by some uppclassmen named jackson wang or something?

🤷‍♀️

BUT IT WAS PERFECT!!

but he couldn't go alone--he'd look like a loser

which he's NOT >:(

so he brought his gym bro, taehyun!

but then the two were faced with the predicament of looking like much worse

homosexuals!! :0

god forbid two men hang out in public

so taehyun brought his other bestie, kai!!

but mans hates large social gatherings and would rather drown in his toilet than watch the musclemen pull the pretty girls he was afraid of

so he brought the also bitchless soobin along to keep himself entertained :D

meanwhile you were also getting dragged to the party by beomgyu, whose band had gigged it, since he needed emotional support!

the event had started off fine!

beomgyu was killing it with his band

soobin and kai were awkwardly curbing girls' stares and suspicious drinks sent their way with queries as to a foursome

yeonjun was in the middle of a mosh pit, getting absolutely wrecked

taehyun was getting danced on by not one, but TWO girls

AT THE SAME TIME

and you were currently crowd surfing despite having no recollection as to how you got there

you were honestly not vibing since you had a slight fear of heights

and an aversion to sweaty men in closed spaces

so when you were eventually put down, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen to get a breather

and maybe a shot while you were at it—god knows you need one to get through the rest of the night

however, your plans halted once you caught sight of your beloved ex-group partner from biochem!!

“woah hey, soobie-boobie?!” you hollered

cue soobin, who was in the middle of a heated rant about the band refusing his request of playing “meant to be” by bebe rexha, freezing with a soulless look in his eyes

it was you

you (+beomgyu, btw) were the reason he had to pull multiple all nighters to complete your part of the project you failed to do the previous year

mans nearly lost the will to live during that project

he’d hated yall with a passion and did NOT fail to snitch after the project was submitted

it was bc of him that you had to retake that class and almost get your scholarship revoked

of course, nobody knew it was him, since he was a sly motherfucker and blamed it on kim chaewon instead

but he planned on taking that secret with him to the grave, since he would rather take a nap on the freeway than deal with confrontation

but he had no reason to, by the way you were calling for him with the dopiest smile on your face

he hoped he could get away with ignoring you since it was so loud

but then you let out a screech that pierced the heavens

“SOOBIE BOOBIE TOOBIE WOOBIE FOOBIEEEEE!!”

hhnggg

he closed his eyes to block out the sight of you now standing on the counter and waving your arms like crazy

if he couldn’t see you, then you didn’t exist

but, unfortunately, soobin wasn’t the only person with eyes and ears

“hey, hyung, i dunno if it’s just me, but i think that girl might know you!”

soobin opened his eyes to see kai waving back at the girl for him

soobin wanted to die when he saw you take that as confirmation to join them

“hey! long time no see!!” you greeted as you took a seat with the pair of them

hyuka easily took to you while soobin tried his best not to look utterly disgusted

“so how do you two know each other?” kai asked

“soobin and i were paired for a group project last year!”

soobin frowned at you, but you were none the wiser as you entertained the curious kai

“oh cool!! what class was that?”

“honestly, i have no clue! i was high half the school year, thank god soobin was there to help me and my other friend for that project!”

soobin scoffed at that, causing both you and kai to look at him questioningly

“was that a cough?”

“did you need a drink?” you innocently offered one of the many drinks the boys had discarded

soobin shook his head vigorously at that, making you shrug

“welp, more for me then!”

AND DOWNED IT

kai and soobin were too slow to stop you, and watched in horror as you finished the drink with a pinched expression

“holy shit, are you okay?!” soobin asked

but you were preoccupied with the upset feeling in your stomach

“ugh, what the hell was that?” you tried to stop yourself from burping, but you could feel yourself getting lightheaded

“ah man, i knew those drinks weren’t safe” kai winced, watching as you nearly fell out of your seat before soobin caught you

soobin groaned at the prospect of having to take care of you, but lifted you up a bit while you babbled and whisked yourself out of his hold

“hey, im fine—i actually feel great! we should go dance!”

and you were off, dragging an innocent kai with you to where the rest of the party was dancing to the band

not wanting to be left alone after you so rudely took his only friend, soobin ran after the pair of you

meanwhile kai, who had been dragged with you, felt like he was gonna have a panic attack in the face of all these people you dragged him toward

he felt like he was getting swallowed up in a sea of drunk, horny young adults

which, technically, he was

you were none the wiser to the boy’s fears as you started dancing

to hueningkai’s absolute horror, you were actually doing the camp rock stomp dance from the second movie

part of him wanted to ask you to drop a tutorial

the better part of him made him want to crawl in a hole and die

for the both of your sakes’, he blamed your behavior on the alcohol and spared you more embarrassment by turning away from you and looking for help

and his saving grace came in the form of his lord and savior, kang taehyun

mans was a lil busy with a few of the drunk and horny young adults himself

but what kai wants, kai gets!!

so when he called for his friend, taehyun came without a complaint

he also miraculously had a glass of water in hand, just in case kai got thirsty

“what’s wrong? do you need to go home?” taehyun worried, shoving the glass into his friend’s hand

kai was grateful for his friend

thank god he wasn’t too drunk to be helpful!!

kai merely shook his head at his friend’s questions, and started to drag him back to you

“there’s a girl who got roofied, and she’s doing the camp rock stomp dance—we have to help her!”

but when kai got to you, he found a mess

that mess being you and soobin squealing around while yeonjun was running away from another guy who looked drunk out of his mind and pissed as hell

how yeonjun and soobin got there? and who this other guy was?? and HOW the three of you managed to piss him off???

kai and taehyun had no clue

but they could tell things did not look good for yall

soobin was currently hiding behind a disoriented you, using your inebriated self as a shield

meanwhile yeonjun was narrowly avoiding haphazard punches thrown at him, practically dancing away from them

“what do i do?! what do i do?!?!” yeonjun screamed

“DRAG HIS ASS!” taehyun yelled, right before socking a random guy in front of him

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” kai screamed, leaping away from the new, unprovoked beatdowns taehyun was causing

“fighting my demons!”

maybe taehyun was a little too drunk to be helpful :/

kai scrambled towards you and soobin, who had backed away from the initial fighting pair

“what the hell happened? i wasn’t even gone for two minutes!!”

“i found y/n right after you left, who had saved yeonjun from the mosh pit—”

“—mans was getting his shit blended in there—”

“we were about to come find you, when y/n grabbed some random guy’s ass—”

“—to be fair, i thought he was kai—”

“and when the guy turned around to fight her, she blamed it on yeonjun!!”

“well, duh! i’m just a lil girl!!”

kai blanched at you, while you pouted up at him

you were all like 🥺 👉🏽👈🏽

you had such a sweet look on your face tbh, that kai and soobin almost cracked

before you turned around barfed into a potted plant

things literally could not get worse

“WORLDSTAR! WORLDSTAAAR!!”

it took the three of you a second to realize where that yelling had been coming from

but you finally found the source when you looked on stage and found beomgyu filming the fights going on

“fuck me, he’s here too?!” soobin whined

and while beomgyu had gotten your guys’ attention, he had also gotten a few others’ as well

“hey, you got your friend filming me? i’m here on scholarship!”

the big guy yelled, grabbing yeonjun to hold him still as he went to punch him again

“oh fuck,” yeonjun muttered

beomgyu fumbled around with his phone and guitar, going to brandish the instrument in one hand like a weapon to help out his friend

but luckily didn’t have to when a pot smashed against the attacker’s head, knocking him out cold

the partygoers watched as the big guy dropped to the floor, right in front of yeonjun

yeonjun looked in disbelief from his side of the fallen body

over to you on the other side, your hand still raised in the air from its defensive attack

“holy shit!” beomgyu gasped

“holy shit!” you gasped back

the party was silent for a second

before everyone erupted in cheers!! :D

and everyone stood up and clapped

“THAT WAS AWESOME!”

people around you were jumping around and back to partying again

meanwhile the rest of the group came back to you

“are you guys okay??” kai asked

“i think i just shit my pants,” yeonjun breathed, clutching onto his chest

he looked as white as a ghost, but he didn’t get any injuries

luckily, the guy was too drunk to properly do any damage to yeonjun

but he was still afraid at the possibility!!

you merely nodded at kai in acknowledgment, before leaning tiredly on the person nearest to you

which happened to be taehyun, as he kept you upright with his non-bloodied hand

and then there was beomgyu, who ran over to yall with his phone in the air

“oh my god, i got the whole thing on video!!”

“did i look cool?”

you asked him tiredly from your position

“kind of, you’ve got a bit of barf on your chin, but i could probably photoshop it out later!”

“let’s gooo!! :D”

the two of you fist bumped, before yeonjun turned to you

“thanks for knocking that guy out, y/n, you saved me”

“but she was the one who got you in that mess—”

“of course, yeonjun! what are friends for?!”

you unknowingly interrupted soobin, causing everyone in the group to clap at your selfless words

"come on, let's all get out of here and get some ramyeon--on me!" yeonjun pulled out his daddy's credit card

causing the rest of the group to cheer

soobin’s eye twitched at yall SO HARD

“are you fucking with me rn?? SHE’S the reason this all happened—?!”

but soobin was drowned out by your guys' cheers as you all headed for the door

"come on soobin, before that guy wakes up and tries to go for round two!"

kai shouted, dragging soobin along and stepping over the guy that was still passed out

"oh, what the hell," soobin gave in, internally praying for the strength to tolerate you and beomgyu for the rest of the night

"woah wait a sec," beomgyu said deliriously, looking at soobin like he just realized he was there

"soobie boobie? when the fuck did you get here?"

soobin, on cue, gave the heaviest eye roll known to man

"i've BEEN here, motherfucker!"

…..

…and the rest was history!!😅

after that, yall just kind of gravitated to each other until suddenly

your snapchat streaks were too high

you’d gone grocery shopping for each other’s favorite snacks

and your moms all knew abt each other and would constantly ask abt you

yall were in too deep and decided to just kind of stick together after that :)

139 notes · View notes

dateless-bar · 8 months ago

Text

Can I Follow You Home? - Traitor Primarch Ver. (Modern AU)

If you ask Can I Follow You Home...

*: Character design from #projectepd, see character design pics here: ☆

Magnus

If you want to visit Magnus at his mansion in the New Capital, he might scrutinize your email with pursed lips for a while. From the subject line to the signature, and even the style and wording of the text—if you're lucky and what you propose happens to pique his interest, he might allow you to come by with a research proposal for consultation.

Magnus's mansion truly lives up to its original meaning. He won't greet you at the door; instead, he'll instruct you via email which room to go to, explicitly marking areas off-limits without permission. You have to tread carefully as soon as Amon opens the door for you, as you'll sense the space is filled with various antiques, rare books, specimens, and other collectibles. Whether it's hand-copied manuscripts with ink still fresh or prayer books adorned with jewels, the cabinets display a vast array, while numerous scrolls and carvings are sealed behind thick glass.

Amon will lead you to the reception room on the second floor, which, to be honest, leaves hardly any space to walk. The carpet is thick and soft, giving you the sensation of walking on sand. You can be sure there are cats in the house, as you spot cat hair on the couch and objects. However, unfortunately, the mansion is too large, and all the cats have hidden away. Magnus sits on the innermost sofa in the reception room, waiting for you to present your research report. During this time, you can smell the sweet aroma of wine and beeswax, a scent compounded with the heavy dust in the air, almost dizzying.

While he peruses your work, it's strongly advised not to let your gaze linger on areas of the room obviously concealed. If you were to discreetly lift a blanket or push a cabinet to reveal the modern lighting and the opposite cabinet, you'd find various movie props, first edition comics, signed posters by game designers, and perhaps even his secluded gaming den filled with numerous controllers, game boxes, and Blu-ray discs. If you were to really do that... Well, okay, okay, Amon, please show the guest out.

Perturabo

It's hard to imagine Perturabo introducing his house to anyone, but if there's anywhere in the world that brings him peace of mind, it's probably his own steel-reinforced safe house. This house is located at a secret address, accessible only through a long, narrow underground passage.

If you were to actually enter it, you might find yourself completely in the dark. That's because this place requires Perturabo's personal authentication to activate, and there's even an Iron Circle robot at the entrance—whether it can be activated or not is uncertain, but it looks quite formidable. Additionally, there's a rather intimidating set of exoskeletons, making you feel like you've stepped onto a movie set.

After navigating through various security measures, you finally reach an explosion-proof door. Behind this door lies a small room equipped with a separate escape hatch and water pump system, doubling as a precision mechanical workshop. From here, Perturabo can monitor all the activities in his main residence. It's like a doomsday bunker with comprehensive systems for any contingency. Here, Perturabo contemplates or crafts devices in absolute safety and silence, free from any possible disturbance, making it one of the few places where he can find complete tranquility. Sometimes, he spends entire weekends here alone, dedicating his time to constructing and manufacturing machinery. He even manages sleep on a mechanical bench or a hardboard bed. Then, at the beginning of the week, he returns to his regular duties, and of course, the items he manufactures here are never given to anyone.

If you find the space a bit cramped, you can activate the artificial scenery function on the multi-panel screens to display realistic landscapes. However, there's one obvious drawback: Perturabo hasn't equipped the house with any kitchen facilities, so if you're really hungry, you might have to make do with a few biscuits and water.

Fulgrim

Imagine visiting Fulgrim's mansion— which one, though? Let's go with the one he's been favoring lately. The walls of this mansion are painted in dazzling purple, and the satin on the velvet couches shimmers with a soft, enticing glow, but none of this compares to how he looks when he opens the door wearing his cozy housecoat. No more high-heeled boots or leather shoes, just bare feet adorned with a pair of fuzzy deep purple slippers. As you step inside, he'll surely ask you what music you'd like to listen to, and as you ponder which record suits this warm, radiant evening, he'll inquire about your drink preferences and if you'd like some snacks—too many choices might leave you a bit overwhelmed, but Fulgrim has already selected a few that he's perfected. Herbal tea, mille-feuille, a selection of classical recordings from the La Fenice Theater—the needle of the record player gently drops, and you never imagined you'd hear his collection in the home of this opera master.

You might find yourself sitting on a couch that's unbelievably soft, not as tidy as you'd imagine, adorned with dried flowers and fabric samples. But the pillows and cushions you hold emit delightful scents, and he promises to send you home with a sample of his handmade incense. And because the snacks are so delicious, you have to be careful not to eat too quickly. If you're full, you might explore the dressing rooms on the second floor—or should I say, the entire second floor is dressing rooms. Each room has floor-length mirrors and professional lighting fixtures, showcasing a variety of costumes, identical to those seen on the opera stage, down to the hand-sewn details. He'll show you the rooms for shoes and hats, the sheer volume from floor to ceiling is staggering, and you realize Fulgrim can clearly recall which designer or era each piece is from.

And if you're having a delightful conversation with him at this moment, he'd be more than happy to show you his clothing design sketches in the studio on the third floor. But as you step into the study, you might inhale sharply— the room is filled with numerous magazines and movie posters, all featuring his various personas. However, you can't help but admit that none of the pictures in the books seem as vivid and lifelike as the person standing before you.

Lorgar Aurelian

You initially prepared to visit Lorgar and expected it to be a public display, but you ended up at his private residence instead. He waits at the door for you before your arrival, claiming he anticipated this.

Lorgar's actual room is quite modest, even modern. People often forget his profession and find it hard to imagine his modern side. The room is so standard it could pass for a rental in the city, with some potted plants on the balcony. You gaze at him in his high-neck sweater, feeling a bit surprised—it's an uncommon sight.

There's still a faint scent of incense in the air, much like what you often smell in Word Bearer churches. Under Lorgar's gaze, you might need to change into slippers and shoe covers before entering. His bookshelf isn't stocked with books but scattered with wooden or metal ornaments, making you realize he has a habit of discarding or burning books after reading them. Interestingly, there are some modern-looking self-help and popular psychology books on the shelf, which Lorgar might explain are for Angron.

There are very few electronic devices in his home, not even digital clock screens, still relying on a very quaint chiming clock and occasionally using an old laptop and a fax machine for work. Judging by the dust, it seems Lorgar doesn't use them often. When you inquire about this, he mentions he still prefers handwritten letters. If you ask, he might even show you the Word Bearer seal. Interestingly, the ink pens and other items he uses daily are all handmade. As you approach the desk, you can smell a distinct classical ink scent. However, he expresses regret that he can't offer you any souvenirs—after all, his handwriting and signature are too precious, and you wouldn't know what to do with a true relic.

Angron

The idea of visiting Angron's home was rather nerve-wracking, to say the least. Honestly, if it weren't for the TV station's insane idea of doing this special program, chances are you wouldn't have had the opportunity to explore. However, what was likely aired on the show probably wasn't what you truly saw today. The Nuceria Wrestling League probably wanted to stage more stimulating scenes for the audience, so they might have taken away some items from here later and set them up elsewhere for shooting.

You shift your gaze back to the house in front of you, evidently arranged by Nuceria as Angron's residence, a luxurious apartment. Angron storms out of the bathroom, still dripping with water. He seems entirely unwilling to bother drying himself off. You can see water seeping onto the floor, clearly cleaned regularly by Nuceria's arranged personnel, replacing the vases and cabinets Angron smashes with new ones. No matter how roughly he treats the space he occupies, it returns to its original state after a while—you even feel that might be the reason for his anger.

You glance at the dining table, where Angron's previously endorsed cereals and protein bars lie. But you're pretty sure he doesn't eat them himself. Even the entire kitchen looks brand new, untouched by him, but you know another wrestler, Kharn, and their agent, Ms. Sarrin, sometimes use it to prepare simple meals.

The bathroom Angron just came out of doesn't have many bathing supplies; instead, it's stocked with bandages and painkillers you wouldn't typically find in a household. Next door is an entire home gym, a rarity, with a variety of exercise equipment dazzling the eyes, and the battered punching bag makes you shudder. Angron would smirk and say this place is just for show, with only the punching bag being somewhat useful. His real training is obviously in a more professional gym, and this place is probably just an assumption made by Nuceria.

You're surprised to see a cramped compartment, seemingly originally used as a small storage room. But when you discreetly open the door, you discover a hidden world inside. There are many scribbled to-do lists and tips from counseling centers, and a few crumpled manuals on the table. There's a pen holder made from a crushed soda can, with two or three stubby pencils inside. Before you can figure out what exactly this place is for, Angron grabs you by the scruff like a rabbit and drags you out.

Konrad Curze

In a sense, his home could even be considered a tourist attraction—if you're a fan of urban legends or folk horror radio shows, you've probably heard of the infamous haunted mansion at 50 Berkeley Square. Its notoriety isn't just historical; it's also connected to Konrad Curze. Some say he lived there, while others claim Curze himself is the source of the eerie tales about the mansion... Urban legends only get more mysterious as they circulate. If you're a social media influencer or a haunted house explorer, or even if you're looking to invest in real estate and have enough courage, perhaps you could try entering.

Of course, the faint-hearted should go during the day, but the brave, unafraid of death, can choose nighttime. The atmosphere and the gusts of fog alone are enough to make one gulp down a pot of tea, and as you shiver while trying to push open the mansion's front door, only to find it immovable, you might need a helping hand or a ladder to climb through the broken window on the east side—actually, Curze usually exits from here; he doesn't have much of a concept of using the front door, but he's rather fond of the gargoyle on the roof.

There are appliances in the house, and you can even try turning on the lights, but you must be wary of potential electrical hazards, as you have no idea where the wires are connected, definitely not to code. There are suspicious marks on the wooden floorboards—let's refuse to ponder whether they're claw marks or bloodstains, carefully avoiding all hazardous areas, and you'll find that the mansion is like a massive secret chamber or maze. Many of the upholstered or leather furniture pieces are either covered in dust or in a state of disrepair. A large portion of them is even strewn across the floor, blocking your path. After finally maneuvering past the creaky floorboards and reaching the kitchen, you're pleasantly surprised to find that not only are the lights functioning, but the fridge is also plugged in! However, after noticing the suspicious traces seeping from the fridge and cabinets, perhaps it's better not to open them...

You turn to look at the kitchen utensils on the countertop—they're quite new, most likely brought over by Fulgrim, who is always dedicated to getting Curze's life back on track. You're certain the bath salts strewn everywhere in the bathroom and the torn bath bombs are also his doing. As you contemplate further exploration of the other rooms in the house, Curze, who has suddenly appeared on the sofa, emits a hissing sound, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He blends completely into the darkness, using the unplugged wires to tell you he doesn't like too much light in the house. Curze curls up on the torn sofa, the once black and yellow fuzz now darkened and scattered from the overturned cushions.

Mortarion

If you're one of his trusted Deathshroud laboratory assistants, you might get the chance to visit his private residence. You'd disembark in the backyard, not at the front gate. Upon entering, you might initially think it's a karesansui garden. However, upon closer inspection, you'd discover that the tiered flower beds and foliage are actually arranged in intricate geometric patterns, following the mysterious Fibonacci sequence found in nature. You'd notice many plants with peculiar shapes or overly vibrant colors, and your intuition would tell you to stay far away from them. Mortarion breathes in the air of the courtyard through his mask, his fingers almost grazing the plants.

After circling the garden, you'd enter his home. It's eerily quiet, to the point where you can hear the chirping of insects from the courtyard. Mortarion is wearing nothing but a thin plain robe indoors, which obscures his overly pale skin, giving off an unsettling chill.

He would draw the curtains when the sun rises, shrouding the interior in dim shadows. You might find yourself unable to resist looking at the printed numerical sequences on the walls of his room, as well as the insects and plant specimens framed in display cases. And the darker the environment, the more lifelike they appear. If you stare long enough, you might almost feel as if they're about to flutter their wings at any moment. As you walk along the walls, you'd come across a fish tank illuminated only by scenery and a dim green light, devoid of any fish. Just as you can't help but wonder what happened in there, you catch a faint whiff of formaldehyde from the closed door nearby.

At that moment, dusk sets in. Mortarion suddenly pulls back the curtains, startling everyone present. Yet, he casually produces homemade wine from the courtyard. If you're lucky enough, you might be treated to these drinks alongside other visiting Deathshroud members—you all instinctively don't think to refuse such a possibility.

Horus Lupercal

Horus's current residence is the result of a black market deal after a fire many years ago, but now it's deemed 'completely legitimate and legal,' with records in the Luna Wolves' archives even documenting the hefty property taxes they dutifully pay.

The overall style of the house bears a striking resemblance to the Wolves' old home in Sicily, likely because Sejanus and others brought over a fair amount of furniture from there. They even had a massive oven installed for occasional nostalgic pizzas or bread reminiscent of home. Whenever Horus needs to meet privately with the Mournival, it's almost always held in the ground floor of this house. They would sit around a long table, surrounded by paintings by artists who once owed substantial debts, hanging on the walls and ceiling. Torgaddon once quipped that while meetings in this environment were bearable, eating was out of the question—prompting an immediate reprimand from Abaddon.

If you're one of Horus's trusted confidants, you might have the chance to see the final painting in that series, displayed alone in his living room. Surprisingly, his room doesn't entirely adhere to the style of the rest of the house; it's more minimalistic, with fewer decorative furnishings, featuring only a bookcase, a bed, a clothes rack, a drinks cabinet, and a table. The bookcase holds a collection of epic, literary, and historical works. If you catch him in a good mood, he might allow you to pour a drink or help him hang up his suit jacket. Whether to add ice, how much ice to add, whether to send it to the dry cleaners, and where to hang it all become matters of importance. And if you get it right, Horus might relax a bit, loosen his tie, and share the story behind the painting with you. But the test has only just begun; either stay silent and listen carefully or ask the most precise questions to help him tell the story he's told a thousand times before. And if you happen to mention some keywords he doesn't like, then all efforts will be in vain. Remember, caution is key.

Alpharius

You walk into a room.

As for what kind of room it is, you feel it's a bit like an employee dormitory, yet also reminiscent of a single room in a budget hotel.

It looks completely fine. Neat, clean, with items that are ninety percent new, not overly pristine to make it difficult to use, yet appropriately lacking a sense of warmth. You attempt to turn on the lights in the room, only to discover that all the power sockets perfectly match your lifestyle, requiring almost no additional adapters or special interfaces. Speaking of interfaces... where is your phone? Realizing this, you glance at the coffee table and the cabinet above it, noticing that the room is not equipped with any telephones.

You suspect your phone might be in the pocket of your coat, so you try to open the wardrobe in the room. Inside, there are three hangers, each holding your outerwear for different seasons, perfectly matching your size and dressing habits. However, they are all brand new, without any signs of being worn.

Despite thinking it's impossible, you still check the pockets of these clothes. In the inner pocket of your winter coat, you find a business card. There's only one name on the card.

You feel a dizzy spell. How long has it been since you last ate? A wave of weakness washes over you, and you collapse onto the unwrinkled bed.

You wake up to the sound of your own phone ringing. As you regain consciousness, you find yourself lying in your most familiar bed. The scent, the pillows, the blankets all make you feel incredibly safe. You sigh with relief, realizing you've just had a strange dream - but it's all over now, isn't it? You pick up your phone, intending to freshen up.

After a moment, you realize there seems to be something under your phone.

It's a business card.

#primarch headcanon #horus lupercal #fulgrim #mortarion #perturabo #konard curze #alpharius #lorgar aurelian #modern au

42 notes · View notes