#first time doing this so it might be terrible

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[habken]

Hi there!

I have been rewatching MHA and came across many accounts that support bkdk. So i wanted to ask you the following:

Bakugo wanted to kill Izuku on their first day and during the bomb test. He tormented him for over 10 years, insulted him, bullied him, tortured him. Because he has "promise" Aizawa never called him out on his toxic behavior, but threatened Izuku with expulsion all the tims, labeling him as "problem child". All Might never did anything, even after Bakugo states, that he wanted to kill Izuku. Bakugo never faced a consequence for his oppressive behavior, he even bullied his so-called BakuSquad. (He got himself captured by the league and only denied their offer becUse they were "losers") Meanwhile, Izuku clearly shows signs of PTSD, wincing everytime when Bakugo was near him. Bakugo used so many explosions on him, he should be covered in scars. It's clear that he is Hori's favorite. The MHA fandom is pretty toxic, we all know this. Bakugo's "character evolution" didn't make him a better person. He never really changed or helped Izuku. When he "moved out of instinct" he did so because it's "instinct", because he trained so much. He didn't care that it was Izuku, he didn't think about it. After the second/ third season, the other characters just didn't care anymore about his behavior towars Izuku. Aoyama's parents wanted Aoyama to have a quirk to prevent him from being left out of society, so basically to protect him from people like Bakugo. He was the most privileged person (hit the genetic lottery, intelligent and rich parents). But still, MHA clearly shows that if you feel insecure you can bully and torture and there will be no consequences. I love Todoroki and Izuku much more, because they at least help and support each other. Shoto had a terrible childhood, but he never turned into an abuser. He never turned into his father. Bakugo's "excuse" towards Izuku was just laughable (makes the whole Sasuke/ Naruto episode after their big last fight look like true cinema). In the end, the fandom (and Hori) support an abuser/victim relationship.

Why do you support bkdk?

Their relationship gives people a false sense of what a victim of abuse should do. MHA never took Izuku's pain and past seriously. They portrayed Bakugo as "tsundere" instead of showing the real consequences of being the abuser for over a decade. Kirishima showed how to behave if you feel "unmanly" or "inadequate". Bakugo in the MHA world was a racist the minute he found out that Izuku didn't have a quirk. He victimized himself and tortured Izuku because he thinks that the world revolves around him. Shouta from "A silent voice" shows how to seek redemption and forgiveness. Bakugo just wanted to be Nr1 hero, but never a good one who saves people.

MHA clearly shows that you can bully someone, torture someone, torment someone- and you will never have to face consequences. A spit-out "sorry" after 10+ years of bullying and right after insulting someone's mental state is enough to be forgiven.

jesus christ lmao

See I could rebute your long ass essay and give my reasons for liking the ship, but you don’t actually care about what I have to say. I’m not going to spend my time defending myself to someone who’s arguing in bad faith. I spent years defending the ship, getting hate comments and death threats, and I’m not ever doing that shit again.

If you want to goad me into defending a dumb shonen ship, pay me $50. Until then, fuck off. Go find like-minded people under the “bakugou faces consequences” tag on ao3

[keferon]

TexAid - Vortex has taken First Aid as his pilot. First Aid claims Vortex as his mech.

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

There's a rumbling in the distance as First Aid crawls out the darkened hatch of Vortex's escape chute.  The hangar is a wreck of collapsed walls, twisted metal pipes, and broken wiring shooting up sparks. 

First Aid pushes himself to his feet, stands back, and uses the flashes of light to take stock of the situation. 

This is…not good. 

He counts a dozen cuts and bruises across his own aching limbs before abandoning the effort.  He is satisfied at least that he is intact, alive, and functional.  All his injuries will heal, given treatment and time. 

Time he may not have.  Because Vortex on the other hand is not so lucky – lights off, systems silent, frame crumpled on the ground.  A slow trickle of oil leaks from the mecha, swirling into one of the many pools of alien ooze scattered around Vortex's frame along with chunks of the aliens' flesh.

The battle had been fierce, Vortex's fighting the fiercest Aid had ever seen against the many enemies.  But for the first time, it hadn't been enough.  The mecha suddenly going dark – collapsing under the strain of overtaxed systems even as the last of the monster's fell.  Leaving First Aid truly alone in that cockpit of horrors for the first time.

Another rumble sounds in the distance, shaking First Aid from his reflection.

He refocuses on the present, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling towards Vortex's head.  He raps his knuckles against the glass of the visor, shouts at the mecha to wake up. 

Nothing.

Vortex has gone dark.

This is not good.  He is dead.  They are dead, if Vortex cannot wake.  Because those distant rumbles are definitely not friendly.

No human has survived fighting the aliens without a mech.  And first Aid is a medic first.  Vortex is the fighter – the killer – of their strange partnership.  First Aid doesn't know what the aliens do to the mecha and pilots that go missing from the battlefield and are never recovered.  And he doesn't intend to find out.

But he does know what the science team will do with Vortex – a billion dollar prototype gone wrong – out of control and now offline.  They will take the mecha apart, dissect him, strip him down to his basest components to find out where it all went wrong.  And when they're done, what's left will be scrap – pieces repurposed into other mecha repairs.

They might build a new prototype top-of-the-line killing machine 2.0.  But is won't be Vortex.

First Aid hates that.  Because he should hate Vortex, after all the other has put him through.  But he doesn't.  Because before all that, Vortex had saved him.  Vortex chose him – kept First Aid alive and safe, even as he's shown countless times just how easily he could destroy Aid.

And Vortex is…was…could be alive – a mecha with a consciousness all his own in a way First Aid had not believed until he experienced it first-hand.

Out of ignorance, out of fear, out of hate, or simply because of the harsh realities of war – the others will kill Vortex (if he isn't already dead; please don't be dead) and never realize what they have done, because they never recognized that he was alive to begin with.  Never saw him as anything more than a glitch, an aberration in their perfect war design.

First Aid has a duty to save lives.  He cannot – will not – let that happen.  Vortex is his.  In death as much as in life.

The rumbling grows closer, close enough First Aid can imagine he hears the slithering of tentacles along walls underneath it. 

He will not let any other – alien or human – take Vortex from him, not while he still lives.

The cables on the ground throw up another flurry of sparks – casting eerie shadows across Vortex's frame.  First Aid's eyes fixate on the light, tracing the path of the wiring from where it snakes across the floor back up to the housing on the wall.  A broken main charging cable for a mech.

Maybe…just maybe…

It's a terrible idea.  So many things could go wrong – electrocution, a gruesome death, ending up a mindless shell on life support for the rest of his days (not so different from how Vortex already is now).  Pharma or Ratchet or any other medic would tell him as much.  They would tell him that there's almost no chance of powering on a mecha once it's gone fully dark, that it isn't worth risking himself too (and particularly not for this mecha).

For anyone else that might be true, but by now First Aid is used to a little risk.  Risk of electrocution and death?  Just another average day on the job.  No different than what Vortex puts him through every time he straps into the pilot seat.  The only thing that's different now is that Aid is choosing to take the risk.

Because there is a chance.  And First Aid is going to take it.

The rubber insulation of the cable is already in his hand when he looks down, his body having carried him to it as his mid was busy shutting out the doubts every other medic would have said.

Something bangs against the collapsed wall blocking entry to the hangar, sending a shower of dust outward.

First Aid hefts the cable over his shoulder, careful to keep the sparking end far in front of him, and begins the trek across the warehouse.  His shoulder burns from the extra weight on an already stressed joint and his legs protest as he forces them to twist and jump to avoid the pools of fluid that would cause instant electrocution if they came into contact with his body and the cable.

The aches don't matter.  He is a medic.  He can carry his own weight and still have the strength to lift up others.  He can do this.  He will do this.

First Aid is gasping for breath by the time he reaches Vortex again.  His sides ache, lungs burning with each breath.  He mentally adds checking for the possibility of bruised ribs to his catalogue of injuries, then shoves the pain aside to focus fully on Vortex's frame.

First Aid eyes the power node at the back of the mecha's neck and before he can think twice, shoves the broken power cable into it.  Sparks fly around the junction and Vortex's frame jolts, lights flickering briefly, then stills.  First Aid pulls the cable away, then hits Vortex again.  And again.  And again.  Lights flicker.  Sparks fly.  Dust showers around First Aid.  Electricity jolts through Vortex's frame.

"Come on," First Aid mutters as Vortex's lights stay on a full second after he pulls the cable away before stuttering out again.

He takes a deep breath and throws the cable directly into the center of Vortex's chest, where the mecha's primary batter is housed.  Sparks fly across Vortex's frame, lights flicker, flash bright white, then stabilize to a dim red glow.

First Aid's momentary relief shatters as Vortex moves and he feels a gust of air from a cold metal blade passing just over his head.  There's a dull thunk, and then fluid is pouring down on First Aid, coating him in a thick sludge of blood from the alien that First Aid reckons was looming just behind him, judging by the bright green eyeball that falls from above to land in a spatter at his feet.

First Aid looks up at Vortex looming over him, gloving red light pouring out from the maw of the cockpit and laughs, shaking hysterically as a hand reaches down to scoop him up from the ground.

They are alive.  He is Vortex's.  Vortex is his.  They are alive.

D-dont. Don't make me even more feral about them than I already am. Don't. I was GOING TO SLEEP BUT NOW MY BRAIN WON'T STOP WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME HOW AM I GONNA PRETEND TO BE NORMAL NOW WH

[niceonejames7]

i love yous and what not

you tell james you love him for the first time

words: 940

genre: fluff

cw: kind of reserved!reader (?), james is an annoying sweetheart

a/n: didn't realise this is another confession blurb. ive been getting too many negative posts (fanwars and all) in my tl so i needed get my head clear. i need to start blocking people don't i.

.....

You were never a vocal person. To tell someone something vulnerable made you recoil into yourself. You liked seeing it through actions. James knew that. But James had always been an expressive person. He liked showing his love, and proclaiming it, and sharing it. Basically, any form of affection. 

Your reluctance had never stopped him. 

He had said ‘I love you’ a month into dating, you hadn't minded it. You already knew he did, and you felt the same. You had only kissed him later, but next morning, it was as if he could predict your words,

“You really don't have to say it. I know you have a hard time with these things. I know how you feel, it's hard not to know. I feel all fuzzy inside when you smile at me" He had grinned down at you as you hid, your face half under the blanket but he knew you were smiling. He could see it in your eyes, and who wouldn't know, he did feel all fuzzy inside. 

So you hadn't said it. At least not as a confession. 

James is terrible company. Terrible because he rubs off on you. You were never someone to wake early in the morning, you still aren't. But your body seems to wake itself to bid him goodbye in the morning, “I'm only going to the gym" He'd say as he kisses your forehead, your body going back to sleep again.

And you had peppered in ‘love you's in your texts, when bid him goodbye, in your notes, magnetic letters spelling out ‘LY’ under his growing collection of pictures etc. etc.

Today's different. He's still annoying with what feels like a weekly routine to cuddle you with cheesy romantic sentences, that you know he means -he knows they make you squeezy- but he says them anyway. 

“This isn't a joke my love, I really would let you stab me,” His arms squeezing your waist as you squirm in his lap, "I'd just be glad you'd be the one to do it." 

You try to be annoyed, but laugh as you make more futile attempts to escape. 

“I feel as if you were made for me. You know that one line," His eyes light up in excitement, your movements still as he concentrates, “I don't believe in God, but I truly believe God made you for me. It's from a book, I think."

“Oh my god, James," You chuckle, your hands pushing on his bicep, but you really only feel them flex under your fingers. 

“What do you want for lunch?" He asks, pressing one last kiss on your lips as he lifts you off of him and goes to get his phone.

“He really needs to stop doing that to me”, you mumble to yourself. 

The next morning, you had woken up as you usually did on the time James left the house. But today he was staying in, you knew this after he proclaimed he's gonna be too tired after last night's activities. You had laughed him off, but you guess he was telling the truth.

You laugh, because he is fast asleep and his lips a little puckered, nose cold to touch. You adjusted his blanket before pressing a kiss to his nose. Then another -then another, deciding those would be the only way you'd warm up the cold.

James was half- awake, he knew you were there, but he didn't dare wake up, his sleepy mind scared that it might be a dream and you'd stop.

Your fingers traced over his eyes, his forehead, his chin, mindless activities to spend time, to rid your mind of the pestering feeling.

It had been present since yesterday, or last week, maybe a month, maybe more. You wanted to say it, but every moment felt too casual, or too formal, or maybe too inappropriate, or too serious. You didn't know what to do. 

You didn't know how he'd react, if he'd resort to his teasing proclamations, or ignore it, or say it back. It was silly to worry about this, there's nothing to fear, it's James. 

You didn't know what made you say it, maybe because he was sleeping, or well- pretending to sleep, or it was the quiet, maybe something else. There was nothing all too romantic about this moment, but you had said it anyway,

“I love you." A quiet whisper, not hesitant or unsure, just nervous. Your pinky finger runs along his nose, it's quite warm now, his whole face is, “I hope you already know that."

He half opens his eyes, just to see a glimpse of your face, it's zeroed in on a curl of his, falling to the side of his face.

 James had known you liked him before you knew. Your love isn't something non- detectable. It was out there, for everyone to see. Unintentionally or not. He had no doubts. He has a million questions if you're saying it because you feel obligated, or pressured or anything else, but he's afraid he might ruin the moment. So for now, He only pulls you impossibly close, his whole body thrumming with excitement, he'd freak out about this later on. Right now he only wants you.

His arms wrap around you, and buries his face into your neck, his warm breath on yours, “I love you, too. So,”- a kiss, “So,”-another one, "much."

He nuzzles into you, and let him, of course you do, fingers brushing out his curls, he continues, “But I think you already knew that." 

[multific]

Scent

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: You never would have imagined such a ruthless and sadistic man to be so obsessed with scent.

How did you always manage to smell so good? 

Every person he met smelled terrible. 

He had many men thrown out of the room because of their foul smell. 

But you always smelled divine. And different each time. 

Sometimes you smelled of roses.

Sometimes you smelled of lavender.

Sometimes you smelled of milk. 

It was always perfect. It made Geta always bury his nose into your skin.

Strangely, your hair never smelled like your body. 

Your hair always smelled of fresh flowers or apples.

He loved it.

He loved you.

Every moment he got, he smelled you. Burying his face into your neck, or during private moments, he buried himself into your breasts or stomach.

It wasn't just your dresses that smelled good. 

Your dresses were different. 

While they smelled like you, they also smelled so fresh. 

"An Empress should smell nice." is what you said to him when he asked you about the smell.

He knew how you liked to bathe. 

How you enjoyed being washed and worshipped.

In reality, you preferred to smell great for your husband. Since the first time he noticed your smell of roses, and told you how much he enjoyed it.

Ever since then, you have been finding new ways to smell divine.

And now, you had one more trick up your sleeve.

You were brushing your hair in front of your mirror. You preferred to do it yourself since the servants were always so rough.

Geta closed the door behind himself and let out a long sigh.

"Do you know just how difficult it is to talk to a man who smells like shit? Literal shit! I couldn't even focus." 

"Maybe you should take a bath." you suggested as you looked at him. You smiled when his eyes met yours.

You heard him smelling the air.

"This is new." he said as he walked over to you his nose up in the air, taking big whiffs. "Honey?"

"Yes Dear?" you smirked at him as he smiled. A genuine happy smile might be rare for others, but not for you.

He knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your hand and began to smell up from your wrist to your elbow, from your elbow to your shoulder. 

His breath tickled your skin, making you giggle.

Soon, his nose found it's rightful place in the curve of your neck.

"You smell so sweet." he whispered as he took deep breaths. 

"I'm happy you like it."

"How do you do it? How do you know what I need? I wanted honey today, craved for it and here you are! Smelling like the sweetest honey treat."

"I'm your wife. Who else would know what you need if not me?"

"Oh, how I love you, My Sweet Wife." 

"I love you too."

You both soon headed to bed where he continued to smell your skin and hair, not letting go for one second.

And this is how you slept every night, with Geta hugging your back to his front, his nose in your neck. 

You slept happy, knowing your husband loved you the same you loved him.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[manasurge]

I just wanted to do a bunch of snippets of Mourynn and Wynne during the time when Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker after she awakened (this was orignally meant to just be lineart, but it is easy to mistaken Wynne for Caithe here, so I added the flatcolour version to remedy that)

I figured I may as well include some lore stuff under the cut (mostly Wynne related stuff, but other Firstborn era stuff from around this time as well. Sorry that this is so long lskjdflk):

(Sorry this is all in point form, it’s just easier for me to write stuff out and digest it this way. Suffer with me and my ADHD way of synopsis writing)

After Mourynn (or whoever she was originally meant to be) finally emerged from her pod a year late, she was frail and unstable due to her “unique condition”. It was a miracle she was alive at all, due to her extremely late arrival that was accelerated after her pod died for a short while (due to Vallotash accidentally killing her and trying to reverse her mistake, affectively taking over her body instead and erasing her own memories and replacing it with what remained of the Firstborn’s. More here in the origins link: EPILOGUE)

(The first few pics up top portray Wynne helping Mourynn after Awakening, where her head is hurting terribly and she has no strength to stand on her own yet).

Since there were no Menders at this time (as none of the Secondborn would even exist for another year or so), and their “Late-bloomer” was in need of urgent care or she was bound to perish yet again, Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker while she was under quarantine for a number of reasons, not all of them made apparent due to sensitive matters.

In addition, Mourynn was originally supposed to be part of the Dawn trio of Firstborn, but due to the uh, situation, she awoke during the cusp at midnight, effectively making her a Nightbloom instead (well, she insists anyways), which was another obligatory reason why Wynne felt compelled to help look after her (with Wynne being the oldest in the cycle, and Mourynn being the youngest).

However, what Wynne never spoke about was the secret she learned about their origins with Mordremoth, a secret she kept with the Pale Tree, and where this gut feeling of unease loomed over in her mind with the consistent unusual things that kept happening with this final pod.

She could sense that something felt very off and she didn’t know what, but she didn’t want to take the risk in case her suspicions were correct. The fact she couldn’t sense Mourynn’s Dream connection or sense her at all was alarming enough, but she didn’t want her worries to be true or to have doubt that one of their own was a danger to them, especially one whom she was greatful to be alive at all. But in the worst case scenario where she was right, she needed to be the one to do what had to be done for all their sakes, even if she really didn’t want to. To protect the secret as long as possible, and to keep the rest of the Sylvari safe, if it had to come to that.

By becoming Mourynn’s Caretaker, she would be able to monitor her at all times and keep watch of her condition. While she hated how horrible it felt having to watch their youngest with a metaphorical knife behind her back, she still did genuinely want to help her get better, trying her hardest to not bond too deep of a connection in case she had to sever it.

But Wynne being Wynne, she was hospitable and kind-hearted by nature. She felt guilty having to watch Mourynn with this ulterior motive and having put doubt in someone who barely had the chance to exist, but she made up for it by working tirelessly to figure out what it was that was causing her constant declining health.

And that, she did!! While Wynne wouldn’t admit that she was avoiding this last approach (after many other various trials) due to what it might entail (dragon connection), Wynne was able to discover Mourynn’s magic deficiency, and had to muster up creative ways to get some magic into her system (with some help of the other Firstborn finding different sources of magic for her to use).

Once Mourynn’s physical status started to recover, she wasn’t uncomfortably bored and bedridden for long hours of the day anymore. Her head hurt way less, she had energy, and was visibly less wilted too. Now Wynne, despite the potential risk of increasing the potential Dragon-link threat by giving it a source of magic, was still relieved that she was able to discover the cause of her problems, and now she just had to help her find a way to maintain it (which is where Mourynn started practicing both Artificing and Cooking TOGETHER to make herself magically enhanced food, as well as potions for on-the-go, but food seemed to be the most effective and long-lasting).

Now that Mourynn was able to actually thrive and be more independent, the two of them could finally converse more thoroughly and do other things. At this point, Mourynn’s entire existence was being connected to Wynne and having her around (even though she desperately wanted to see and know Caithe more after she rescued her from the Dream, she was often out and about elsewhere with Faolain, leaving her with Wynne, who seemed to be the only person who insisted in keeping her around. Something she became reliant on, being her only true comfort and familiarity).

At this point in time, Wynne was the person she was closest with, the two of them spent a lot of time doing other things. Walks around the Grove, Wynne told her stories, Mourynn TRIED to tell her anything, but her memory was nearly void save for the last few moments, which Wynne reassured her was alright (despite it being one of the many signs that worried her).

They would prepare food together, nap together, cloud watch/stargaze, play with Fern Hound pups, Mourynn would show her some of the shaping she had been practicing (exceptionally well too. Potentially concerning) but was too self-conscious to show anyone else (especially Kahedins, who she was forming a one-sided rivalry against). They shared a lot of fond memories and experiences in this short time, and even though Wynne was wary of bonding at all (in case of the worst), she reluctantly cast all her doubts aside as she didn’t see her as a threat anymore, despite the quiet little voice in her head that was still left uncertain, which she chose to ignore.

Now with Mourynn more independent, Wynne could continue pursuing some things she had on hold or could only partially work on during her caretaker role. She would leave the Grove for a while, and would encourage Mourynn to get to know her fellow Firstborn while she went to attend other matters. Mourynn, of course, was TERRIFIED at this thought and avoided them isntead. While she enjoyed the new freedom she had, she hadn’t realized how dependant she had grown to Wynne’s presence, choosing to quietly watch the others in the background (or just go elsewhere to be alone instead).

It took a bit of effort, but Wynne basically had to properly re-introduce her to the others (how embarrassing!), despite the fact that they had all been living under the same canopy all this time. Wynne couldn’t get too upset since this was kind of her fault for making her this way due to her obsessive guardianship, which hindered proper socialization. Mourynn’s Nightbloom-ness was extremely apparent as well, earning her the cheeky little “Wallflower” nickname from the others (primarily Faolain) due to how little she connected with them, and her overall avoidance and quietness (not to mention she was a little weird and off-putting, but no one was going to say that to her face. Except for Faolain, of course).

Mourynn did eventually start to interact with the others more (albeit a bit cautiously). The Pale Tree helped nudge her in the right direction and break the ice. Mourynn could sense something wasn’t quite right about herself and that was influencing her skittishness, but the Pale Tree brought her comfort when Wynne was away (which made it obvious how depressed and lonely this made Mourynn feel, but it was necessary. This also lead to Mourynn spending a lot of time in the Omphalos Chamber).

While she didn’t connect with everyone (as not everyone was there anymore, such as Riannoc being dead before her awakening, and the others that left the Grove during this time whom she only got to briefly meet beforehand), she did finally get to see more of both Caithe and Faolain (the Toxic Throuple stuff will be for another post >:3), and would eventually be tutored by Faolain in fine tuning her Mesmer skills as her nightmarish illusions/hallucinations were getting out of hand and causing havoc as Wynne was away longer and longer, and how her teleportation abuse was becoming a bit of a nuisance as well (and Faolain of course, would love to take this offer to be her mentor. I’ll save this for another post later too).

Aife also became one of the other Firstborn she bonded a bit more with (as Mourynn was meant to be a Dawnbloom initially, so Aife was a bit saddened to see her fellow pod-mate separate from them), but she did offer Mourynn a place of respite whenever she needed somewhere quiet and peaceful (the Garden of Dawn secret area, which also has the waterfalls which Mourynn felt very comfortable in, of which she will discover her affinity for water later as well).

Of course, everything leads to the end where we all know what happens to Wynne in the Point of No Return chapter, but unfortunately Mourynn does not. She won’t find out Wynne’s fate until much later, and will only be left with the ongoing worry and sadness that Wynne left for Dry Top and was never seen again, only leaving her with some uneasy parting words that felt like a potential final goodbye (as Wynne was already aware that Faolain might take things too far, considering how much she was hounding her already, and knew the secret she was carrying was heavy and dangerous). (Also to note, Mourynn isn’t meant to be portrayed as like, a shy quiet uwu softie. She’s not. She’s just a bit avoidant and quiet (and yes shy), but in a more wary/cautious/antisocial-esq kind of way. She has a dry sense of humour, is quite blunt, and is a bit of a menace who talks a bit weird and misunderstands things a lot (because I think it’s hilarious), but is a very good listener and will keep many secrets. She’s trying hard to act normally, but her dragon-brain wiring is also making this very difficult. Also with technically being a parasite (as that’s what Vallotash is), it’s partially in her nature to latch onto someone and be a bit co-dependent (as seen above), even though she contradictorily wants to be completely independent as well, causing a lot of internal conflicts in her mind and emotions)

[vrystalius]

hi! Ive been reading ur fics for a while and i love them sm and hope ur enjoying ur break!

I was wondering if u could write about giyuu apologizing after an arguement?

once again i absolutely love ur fics lol 💗

Apologies

Giyuu apologising after an argument— how does he do it?

Pairing: married!Giyuu x gn!married!reader

“Why can’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m the only one trying here!”

You immediately regretted those words the second they left your mouth. Washing out your mouth with soap won’t wash that expression of your husband from your face, him staring at you in both disbelief and deep guilt. Giyuu knows that he can come off as cold or even uncaring, even to you. It’s never intentional but rather a terrible habit he seemingly can’t get rid off and it keeps forcing him to push people away from him. That’s why it may seem he doesn’t try hard enough to express his thoughts, his feelings.

Despite knowing that you will be understanding and listen to his worries, hold him while you kiss his face until he finally smiles again, all those fears and thoughts that dwell on horrific events he experiences on a daily gone in mere seconds.

So, who should apologise first? Giyuu, or you?

Since your husband left your house after the argument, probably wanting to take a walk or get some fresh air, you had time to think about what to do to apologise to him. Directly talking to him might scare him off and result into him being too intimidated to answer or scurry off to hide somewhere else to avoid you altogether. A letter could work, right?

Composing and thinking about every word, every sentence helped you sort your thoughts out and properly speak about the argument from your perspective while also staying respectful to his own view of the issues. You just hoped that your crow was awake to deliver a letter to your husband. If not, you’ll leave it in your bedroom for your husband to find and read quietly while you waited on him somewhere else.

But before you could prepare a method for Giyuu receiving your letter, Kanzaburo, your husband’s elderly crow, weakly called out to you and ruffled his feathers while resting on your windowsill. A letter was secured around his neck. Gently, you took the bird and put it to rest on your lap, giving him well-deserved scratches while gently unravelling the letter from his neck. It was written by Giyuu, obviously, but before you could read, the door to the room opened and your husband stood in the doorframe, staring down at you in surprise. He eyed you, then the letter in your hands.

“Have you.. read it?”

“No, Kanzaburo just delivered it.”

“Ah.”

You could see the gears shifting inside his mind. He probably overestimated the senior crow and thought the letter would be delivered faster. You scratched the crows head and glanced back to the paper in your hand.

“Should I read it? Or do you want to say everything you wrote down to me personally?”

Giyuu silently averted his eyes, his shoulders sagging and a small frown spreading on his face. He was avoiding to look into your eyes.

“No. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

You watched your husband slowly close the door, leaving you alone with his elder companion. While the crow was contently preparing to nap on your lap, you opened the letter.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

My dearest,

I am sorry. I know I’ve caused arguments again and again because of my silence and my behaviour over all. You feel like you’re the only one trying in this relationship and I’m sorry for that. I thought that if I stayed silent it would be easier for the both of us but that is clearly not the case. I should’ve realised much sooner, but instead I am only doing it now.

I am just too scared to scare you off with my problems and issues since you have your own, just like everyone else does. You are important to me so you always are my priority. My thoughts and feelings can wait, so I stay quiet.

You deserve better than the way I am treating you, you deserve so, so much better. You’ve been patient with me, you stayed with me for so long, through good and bad times. I don’t deserve your love.

I want to do better and I will. Please have a little more patience with me. Please.

I love you, I am sorry that I haven’t said it enough times. I am sorry if you don’t believe me.

Yours forever,

Tomioka Giyuu.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’ve been seeing you interact with my posts pretty often so thank you for all your love and support <33 I’ll happily write more requests for you in the future if you liked this one!

Also, I haven’t forgot about Kyojuro’s thighs request :,) I started writing it and it’s halfway finished— my NSFW meter just ran out and I started writing this instead XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves, physically and mentally <3

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-Two

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two: Festival Play

Summary: The show must go on no matter what.

            With two days until the culture festival, casting was quick to finish, and rehearsals began. Saiki was pleased to discover (Y/N) was right—Teruhashi couldn’t choose him as Urashima because he avoided the casting meeting—and he got a background role instead of anything in the spotlight. He was happily playing Seaweed No. 4 and stood in his green bodysuit. (Y/N) was one of the other deities in the castle, which meant they also didn’t have to do much.

            “Teruhashi is coming!” announced a boy. The costumes had been finished, so everyone was trying them on.

            “How do I look?” Teruhashi stepped into the room, glowing more than ever. Her hair was intricately pinned up, and her elegant kimono fell beautifully around her.

            “Oh, wow!” was the (almost) unanimous reply. “Teruhashi, you look amazing!”

            “Wow, thank you,” said Teruhashi, smiling. That was a perfect entrance.

            “As usual, Kokomi leaves an impression,” said (Y/N), smiling as they walked up to Saiki. They also wore a kimono, far less ornate but still a pretty pale blue.

            Oh, wow. Saiki thought (Y/N) looked amazing—as usual.

            “I wonder who the other characters are?” wondered (Y/N).

            “We’ve got a great Urashima,” said Kaidou.

            “It should’ve been me,” grumbled Nendou. He wore a giant suit that made him look like a piece of coral.

            “You couldn’t memorize any of your lines,” said Kaidou. “So you’re coral.”

            “It’s a perfect fit,” said Saiki.

            “At first, I thought Nendou as Urashima might be original and interesting,” said Kaidou, his “director” (self-appointed title) speak coming out. “But he couldn’t remember a single line. And then I thought about (Y/N) as Urashima since they and Teruhashi are friends, but we decided that two pretty people wouldn’t work. We needed someone who looked humble enough to be a simple fisherman. Sadly, for a while, we were stuck with Nendou.”

            “We had to rehearse some scenes a million times,” said a new voice.

            “Where is that coming from?”

            “Down here!”

            (Y/N) and Saiki looked down and found a turtle staring up at them with Hairo’s face.

            “What the hell?”

            “Are you method acting?”

            “Hairo is amazing,” said Kaidou. “Coming to school, during gym, he does everything as a turtle.”

            “What an idiot.”

            Hairo began crawling around speedily. “I can move this quickly now!”

            “Turtles don’t move quickly.”

            “I’m still impressed,” said (Y/N).

            “So who is Urashima?” said Saiki curiously.

            “He’s here. You look good in that,” said Kaidou as someone new entered in costume.

            “Reall? I can’t tell.” Kuboyasu entered, not wearing his glasses but looking adorable as the humble fisherman.

            “Oh, it’s Kuboyasu.” Saiki thought that was actually a good choice.

            “Putting on the costume makes me nervous,” said Kuboyasu. “Can I really do this?”

            “You look good,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Never mind, Saiki thought this was a terrible choice in casting if (Y/N) was going to be complimenting him.

            “You’re the supporting role. You can do it,” said Kaidou.

            “Supporting role?” said Saiki. “Isn’t Urashima the lead?”

            “Make way!” shouted a familiar voice.

            “Damn. He’s here,” groaned Kaidou.

            “You’re in the way, peasant! Here comes the leading role.” Saiko walked into the room in a fur coat.

            “He’s the ‘Other Urashima,’ ” said (Y/N).

            Saiki deadpanned. “What?”

            (Y/N) sighed. “I argued against him, but he bought everyone off, paid for set and costumes, and was generally his usual self.”

            “But what does it mean that’s he’s the ‘Other Urashima?’ ” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) tutted playfully. “You should have read the script, Kusuo.”

            “It’s time for final rehearsal,” said Kuboyasu. “So you’ll see.”

            “It’s not going to be good, is it?” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) laughed. “What else could you expect from us? We’ll have fun, at least.”

            “You will, maybe.”

l

            “Is everyone ready?” said Kaidou, excited for the final rehearsal of the play. “Action! Year 2, Class 3, The Other Urashima Taro.”

            The narration began as the curtain was pulled back. Unsurprisingly, the narrator was Akechi. “Once upon a time, there was a young fisherman named Urashima Taro. One day, Urashima set out to sea as always but saw some people by the shore. He saw some children bullying a turtle.”

            Kuboyasu stood onstage watching with faux shock as Takahashi and Mera bullied Hairo the turtle.

            “Scum—I mean, how awful!” said Kuboyasu, stepping forward.

            “Urashima Taro stepped in to save it,” narrated Akechi. “But then, a demon whispered in his ear.”

            “Don’t do it,” whispered Saiko, appearing behind Kuboyasu.

            “It’s The Other Urashima Taro,” said Akechi.

            “Saving it won’t make you money,” said Saiko.

            “What is this character?” said Saiki, deadpanning. (Y/N) just shrugged. They hadn’t made the script.

            “Actually, Urashima has an alternate personality,” said Akechi.

            “I feel like this has been done before,” said Saiki.

            “Only the strongest will survive in this world,” said Saiko to Kuboyasu.

            “They made this a horror story,” said Saiki.

            “But that turtle is intriguing. Hold it, turtle plebe,” said Saiko.

            “I think he’s improving some of that,” said (Y/N).

            “I can help you, turtle,” said Saiko to Hairo. “In exchange, show me the underwater paradise, Palace of the Dragon.”

            “How did you know about that?” said Takahashi.

            “Disappear, plebe.” Saiko waved a hand, and Takahashi was literally thrown back.

            “I don’t think we’re supposed to have stunts,” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “What was that?!” cried Takahashi.

            “It’s just a minor explosive sewn into your clothing,” said Saiko, shrugging. “Don’t stop the play.”

            “Why would you do that?!” shouted Takahashi.

            “Keep going,” said Kaidou.

            Hairo was next to speak. “Thank you for helping me. As promised, I will take you to the Palace of the Dragon.”

            “And with that, Urashima Taro was taken to the Palace of the Dragon,” narrated Akechi.

            Hairo was carrying Kuboyasu and Saiki on his back.

            “You’re up,” said Kaidou to the people watching. “Coral, just stand. Seaweed, just wave or something. (L/N), be nice.”

            “I’ll try,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            That will be an easy role for them, thought Saiki, getting onstage.

            The new set looked beautiful and elegant, with grand doors that Saiko and Kuboyasu stood before.

            “Urashima and the turtle arrived at the Palace of the Dragon,” said Akechi.

            “This is the palace of the dragon,” said Saiko.

            “At the bottom of the sea?” said Kuboyasu.

            “Upon arriving, they were greeting by several handmaidens of the lady of the palace,” said Akechi.

            The doors opened to reveal (Y/N), Miko, and Yumehara.

            “Further inside—” Akechi was cut off as a bright line shone from within the palace.

            “What is this?” said Kuboyasu.

            “Welcome. I’m the princess,” said Teruhashi.

            “Urashima couldn’t help but—”

            “Oh, wow,” said Kuboyasu.

            “—sigh in awe,” said Akechi. “Urashima fell in love with the princess.”

            They added a romantic subplot, thought Saiki.

            “Urashima Taro spent a fantastic time at the Palace of the Dragon,” continued Akechi. “He relished his stay at the Palace of the Dragon.”

            Why keep repeating the name?

            “Before he knew it, a month had passed,” said Akechi. The curtains drew back once more to reveal the beach again. “Urashima Taro left the Palace of the Dragon for home.”

            What happened to the romance? There was no continuity.

            “Urashima tried to court the princess but was rejected. He was given a box that must never be opened and was chased out of the castle. Upon returning, he immediately noticed a change. He didn’t recognize anyone. While at the Palace of the Dragon, hundreds of years had passed. Urashima opened the box.”

            Kuboyasu opened the box, and smoke exploded out of it.

            “Engulfed in smoke, he rapidly aged and died.”

            When the smoke cleared, only Saiko stood on the stage.

            “But the Other Urashima Taro did not die. All that disappeared was Urashima Taro’s life, and the Other Urashima Taro was fine. Urashima returned to the Palace of the Dragon.”

            The underwater set returned, and Urashima walked into it.

            “And married the princess. They lived happily ever after.”

            Saiko stood proudly next to Teruhashi on the stage.

            “Great!” said Kaidou, grinning. “Well done!”

            “…That’s it?” said Saiki.

            “Yeah,” chuckled (Y/N).

            “That was not good,” said Saiki.

            “At least we’re having fun,” said (Y/N).

            “We should end with me kissing the princess,” said Saiko.

            “Ew,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m going home, so have it fixed by next time,” said Saiko, waving a hand. He barged towards the doors. “Out of the way. I’m the lead actor!’

            “Saiki, what did you think?” said Kaidou.

            “I made even less sense than the original,” said Saiki.

            “Was it strange to see a happy ending for the Other Urashima?” asked Kaidou. He grinned. “Of course it was. Because that script was a lie. Saiko kept complaining, so we changed the script. In the real script, the Other Urashima will age due to the box, and the real Urashima will live happily with the princess. Set and costumes were bought by Saiko. If he were to pull out, it would be a disaster.”

            “Then why didn’t you have Kuboyasu be the Other Urashima and let Saiko be Urashima so that the right ending is ready and Saiko is appeased?” said (Y/N). “I don’t support him getting everything, but having a secret script feels like a lot of work.”

            “…”

            He didn’t think of that, thought Saiki as he watched Kaidou blink. (Y/N) just stared brightly at him, waiting for an answer.

            “Is that so?” said Saiko.

            “Saiko!” exclaimed everyone who had hidden a script.

            “You tried to trick me,” said Saiko in irritation. He snapped his fingers, and his bodyguards appeared. “Take everything away!”

            “Uh-oh,” said (Y/N).

            “Yare yare.”

l

            The day of the Culture Festival had arrived. (Y/N) stood nervously backstage. Without the costumes or sets, after the performance of the Wizard of Oz, poor Class 3 was going to look, well, poor.

            But, still, as Class 3 was announced, Kuboyasu steeled himself and walked out. The entire class had their determination behind him. Even without Saiko, they’d put on a good show. The quality would be different, but their hearts would still be in it.

            “One day, Urashima found children bullying a turtle,” said Akechi.

            Hairo curled up on the ground while Takahashi and Mera “kicked” him. It looked really bad without costumes.

            “Urashima intervened,” said Akechi.

            At this rate, the show was done for. And what was going to be troublesome was that Kaidou was the Other Urashima now, and he was a terrible actor.

            “A demon whispered in his ear,” said Akechi.

            “Saving it won’t make you money,” said Kaidou. Amazingly, he had put together a good costume and makeup

            Kuboyasu’s eyes widened, and Kaidou blushed, pleased that he had surprised everyone. They had a chance.

            “It’s, you know, only the strong…survive.” Unfortunately, Kaidou’s stage fright was still posing an issue.”

            “What?” said Kuboyasu.

            “Kusuo—”

            Saiki nodded as (Y/N) looked at him worriedly. Hypnosis. Now Kaidou could say his lines correctly.

            “But that turtle is intriguing,” said Kaidou.

            “Alright, you’re on,” said (Y/N).

            Nendou brought out a sign as the seaweed stood on stage and swayed sillily. “Urashima and the turtle arrived at the Palace of the Dragon,” narrated Akechi, having gotten through all of the “Other Urashima” dramatics while the set changed.

            “Welcome,” said (Y/N), Miko, and Yumehara, keeping on brave faces and smiling kindly at their friends.

            “The Princess of the Palace of the Dragon emerged to greet Urashima,” said Akechi.

            It was time for Saiki to put his powers to work again to make sure (Y/N) was pleased with how things went.

            “Welcome to the Palace of the Dragon.” Teruhashi stepped onstage in just her gym clothes. She still had a kimono left behind, but she had chosen to wear what her friends were to preserve the camaraderie.

            That’s fine. I can still work with this.

            “Urashima, you’re very kind,” said Teruhashi, ignoring people’s whispers about her being in her jersey.

            The crowd frowned as she acted. As she glowed and spoke, her clothes seemed to transform before their eyes. Suddenly, she wore the gown of a princess, her hair was pinned, and she was true royalty.

            “An illusion caused be her beauty and performance!” exclaimed the boys in the crowd. “And it’s not just her! Next to her, he looks like Urashima Taro.”

            “Oh, wow,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Urashima Taro just gasped! The turtle, seaweed, and seamaidens looked like humans a second ago, but now—Wow, it’s really the world of Urashima Taro!” cried the audience. “No, it’s Teruhashi’s world!”

            That’s right. I don’t need a costume. Teruhashi smiled. With my acting and beauty, I can make you see anything I want. “Make yourself at home.” By wearing the same jersey as everyone else, it made it easier to project onto them, too. And together we can share the spotlight. She glanced at (Y/N) for a moment and smiled before returning her attention to Kuboyasu and Kaidou as Urashima Taro.

            Yare yare. She’s good, but not even she can change everyone’s appearance. So I used hypnosis to make the audience seen the whole cast. Without her, using hypnosis this way would’ve made someone realize something was up. I’m an organizer, so I have to do this much.

            (Y/N) glanced at him from onstage and winked.

            Saiki smiled.

            I guess I would have helped anyways.

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@isaacdaknight

@newttheglue250

@thelameone101

@peqch-pie

@rai-xxx

@loverzxi

@s0ggyrats

@introvertathome

@pandaquick

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Something Something Yeah It's Still Solavellan Hours (Mythal is kind of here, too)

I've seen a few very beautifully articulated posts talking about the conflicted responses players are finding themselves having in regards to the decision by writers* to have Solas' atonement route possible because of his conversation with one of the remaining fragments of Mythal.

(*honestly I hesitate to put the weight of bigger game events on their shoulders because of how much I know bigger players in the company were involved, so when you read 'writers' know I just mean whoever had final say on plot)

I love reading where people are at on this, and having now breathed, re-played the scene, cried, read some more theories, and then played the scene again enough times I think I'm now able to figure out where I'm at.

TLDR: in my humble opinion, the conversation Solas has with Mythal doesn't bring him any actual closure at all. It is only the version of the atonement ending that has Lavellan in which he is actually set upon a road to redemption.

This, like everything else where I lose my mind, will be long. I tried to restrain myself and here we are, unhinged as ever.

I was unhappy at first that Mythal's incredibly brief conversation with Solas where she releases him from her service seemed to be what finally allowed him to make a decision based on his wants and not hers. My concern stemmed mostly from the fact that a lot of us are trying to be active participants in a society that recognizes patterns of abuse and seeks to establish channels through which individuals can pursue healing without the approval, consent, or demise of their abuser.

But the more I look at the scene, the more I wonder what would have happened in a world where Veilguard got just a little more time in development. Could we have gotten a scene that more elegantly conveys the theme that we cannot heal every part of our loved ones, much as we might like to?

In an imperfect world it isn't always up to us how someone finds closure, which really sucks when you'd like to ensure a loved one finds it in a way that preserves their dignity and limits exposure to the individuals who have harmed them.

And while it could be left there, I'd like to actually push back on the idea that Mythal is in any way responsible for "healing" Solas in this moment.

I went on a different tirade a few days ago about how at the end of Inquisition, Mythal says words to Solas that on their surface seem well-intentioned or placating, but they actually just serve to further bind him in guilt and a position of servitude. In Veilguard's finale, she still does not take accountability for exactly how much of a role she played in the pain that Solas, a man others have revered and feared as a god, has gone through as he cowers, actually cowers before her.

Mythal's interaction with Solas conveys exactly two things to him as far as I am concerned (I'm going to botch these quotes but my laptop is dying so please accept some paraphrase as I rush to finish this before I go cry about this analysis to my uncaring dog):

"The terrible things we did, we did together." You are forever tied to me.

"I release you from my service." But what am I releasing you to?

Because up until Lavellan joins the fray here, all I take away from the physical and unwilling emotional cues Solas gives in this scene (he is a master in trickery, for goodness' sake, the thought of so many witnesses seeing him unable to hide behind a mask has to leave him feeling anguished on top of everything else) is that Mythal has once again reminded him of everything he did in her name and telling him that all that's left for him is to go back to the fade prison and, as he as always done, endure the crushing weight of his failures alone.

To me, in my interpretation, the Solas that hears this from Mythal with no Lavellan intervention may choose to willingly step down from his original plan (and yeah, that's gonna do some damage) but he is certainly not free of his past. He's going to be reminded of it every time he turns a corner and finds more blight to try and soothe, and even the moments that he rests will be filled with more manifestations of his regret. He says it himself: where he's going? It's terrible.

Enter Lavellan. Yeah, he couldn't bring himself to listen to her at her first plea (but like damn how many times are we going to have to watch her give a heartfelt speech only for him to be like 'something something beautiful elven rejection'). But I know that you know that our clever icon knows better than to take what Solas says at face value. She tells Rook plainly that he's absolute dogshit at lies of the heart, and she says it with her whole chest.

Lavellan sees the way his shoulders slump (in resignation yes, but you can't convince me there's not a little bit of relief there, too), she hears the agony in the "vhenan" that escapes his lips (which, don't even get me started on the fact that it's been like nine years and he has no hesitation at all calling her his heart, it just spills out of him). It is not the sound of a man delighting in the steps he's about to take. They're certainly not steps he does not dislike that lead to a destination he enjoys.

And then she watches Mythal (who I can't imagine she feels any sort of fondness or respect for) pull some weird nonsense on her love one final time, and she knows it's her moment to shine.

Mythal, I would argue, pushes Solas down one more time, shames him into seeking atonement, into once again being alone.

It is the romanced Lavellan that kneels so that he cannot fail to meet her eyes. It is she who invokes their connection, not to remind him of his failures but to reaffirm his greatest strength: their love and their love alone is inevitable. Not the consequences of his past, not the regret he thinks will consume him as he seeks to mend what has been broken. It has only ever been them.

"There is no fate but the love we share". We are forever tied together.

"There is no fate but the love we share." *I* am releasing you from everything else save for this love.

Put colloquially: get absolutely fucking wrecked, Mythal.

Body language comparison to chase up the dialogue one, anyone? The way Solas shrinks before Mythal as opposed to him walking off into the fade with Lavellan at his side and standing tall, and he does not flinch when she lifts a hand to his shoulder?

Ultimately, Mythal is a part of the atonement endings no matter what. But it is only Lavellan that refuses to let him walk alone. It is only Lavellan that guarantees that his dinan'shiral ends not in a prison of regret, but a place of promise.

Mythal bends Solas until he breaks one last time. Lavellan takes each piece, claims it as hers, and uses them to build the beginnings of a future.

[dragonnnerdd]

Things I wish more people would talk about in Lego Monkie Kid

(Prepare for a rant longer than the bible /silly)

Spoilers for LMK seasons 2, 3 and 5 (also a brief mention of emotional abuse, and trauma)

Li Jing's terrible parenting

First of all, can we acknowledge that Nezha was CRYING when he had to go against his father??

LOOK AT HIM

How are we supposed to forgive Li Jing so quickly when all he does is talk down to Nezha? And you could argue that Li Jing said he was always proud of Nezha, but all he did was treat him terribly, and as an expert on horrible parents (*cough* my dad *cough*), if they're in a situation where they have to say the right words, 👏 THEY 👏 MOST 👏 LIKELY 👏 WON'T 👏 MEAN IT 👏, especially if they don't change after that. Li Jing could possibly change his treatment of Nezha, that still doesn't forgive what emotional trauma he could've given Nezha to make him CRY AT THE THOUGHT OF GOING AGAINST HIS ORDERS. Now, you could say that Nezha just didn't want to betray his father, and that's what made him cry, but the evidence still points to Li Jing being a horrible father. And I might have a bias towards Nezha, since he is one of my favorite characters, but I know for a fact I'm not the only one who thinks at least one of these things, because I learned one of these things from a post I saw (I can't find it tho, but if anyone might know what I'm talking about, please tell me). Keep in mind I'm not in any way a psychiatric professional, but I do know about what emotional abuse can do to a person, and how the way a parent treats their child can really effect the child's mental health.

Summary: It is implied that Li Jing is a terrible father.

Did I really make a giant paragraph on how Li Jing sucks? Oh, girl (gender neutral), we ain't even done yet.

How Possessed Sun Wukong is actually really creepy, and how he is the perfect temporary antagonist

I hardly think the first part needs explaining. LOOK AT HIM

Now, we all know how Wukong is, like, one of the most powerful guys in the world. Which makes it even more shocking when he is turned against the protagonist, whom he cares about like a son/brother/whatever you prefer (as long as it's not proship-y), by someone who is thought to be less powerful than him. Usually, Wukong makes a lot of noises while fighting, which is something really intimidating about the absence of any grunts or yells when he is possessed. I will use this scene for example

And there is just something about the zero hesitation to attack anyone, up until the end of the special when he slowly walks up to MK, showing that he is fighting LBD's control. And, may I just add, that scene is REALLY CREEPY

LOOK AT HIM

Anyway, as I said in the title of this rant, Wukong is a perfect temporary antagonist. He is extremely powerful (so powerful that he literally punched the lotus out of Nezha)

He caused a crater in the ground from punching Nezha one time, and he took one step and caused a dent in the ground. The protagonist (MK) clearly doesn't want to fight him, and Wukong is immortal. He LITERALLY WALKED THE UNIVERSE-ENDING FLAME

NOTHING CAN KILL HIM! (I apologize for the quality of some of these images, my tablet sucks)

This next thing ties into Wukong's possession--

LOOK AT THE PURE FEAR ON MACAQUE'S FACE WHEN HE IS FACE-TO-FACE WITH WUKONG

That is the face of a guy who is reliving trauma. And let's not forget the scene in the Shadow Play episode where MK charges at Macaque, and the flashback to Wukong flying at him makes it very clear what this moment reminds him of. And in the Benched episode, he tries to convince Tang that his friends (and specifically Wukong) are better off without him, and I bet that's how Macaque felt when Wukong had killed him. I really hope that season 6 touches more on Macaque's trauma.

Now, onto my last topic (finally, I spent so long writing this overanalysis about Legos)

Wukong apologized to MK

If you remember, in season 3, Wukong actually apologized to MK. This is mainly something I'm just really happy about, because he finally admitted he made a mistake. Throughout the first two seasons, Wukong is known to be a silly guy, not taking things seriously, and not admitting his mistakes, so for him to actually apologize for something he did, and actually look guilty for it, is something that just really is nice. LOOK AT HIM (fourth "LOOK AT HIM" of this rant)

He is genuinely sorry. Now if he could APOLOGIZE TO ALL THE OTHER HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE HE HAS MADE ANGRY, THAT'D BE GREAT

Wukong, I love you, you're my babygirl, but MACAQUE IS MY OTHER BABYGIRL, APOLOGIZE TO HIM

Now, finally, my rant is done (for now)

Did I really just make the longest post I've ever made to say what I wish more people would talk about, which turned into an in-depth analysis of Lego monkeys, and a Lego prince whose whole thing is pink flowers? Yes, yes I did. I have no shame

Now, to quote a great man...

MONKEY KING DRAGON NERD OUT!

[blackenedsnow]

ART X A SELF DOUBTING VAMPIRE READER PSLPLSPSLLS!! like they think they taste all rotten and nasty but art doesnt think sooo!

red as snow

WARNING: Self doubt

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Omg this is so fun to think about!! thanks for the ask <3 I ALWAYS love writing about vampires OHHHH MAN

SUMMARY: Art doesn’t mind what’s wrong with you. That’s the worst part, really. You can’t understand how someone so perfect in his brutality could ever want something so rotten.

The blood pools around your feet in lazy rivulets, stark and shining against the pale stretch of snow. It’s almost beautiful, in a grotesque sort of way – the kind of beauty you find in shattered glass or a body just before the life leaves it. Art would know what you mean.

He’s doing something behind you, a slow, lilting tune, soft as snowfall. He’s in his own little world, swaying slightly, his bloodied hands clasped behind his back. His clothes look filthy now, stained with deep red streaks.

You think he looks ridiculous. And perfect.

“Do you ever think,” you say quietly, your voice barely carrying over the winter hush, “that I might taste bad?”

Art stops. His head snaps toward you, and even though you know he doesn’t speak, you feel the weight of his question in the tilt of his head, the way his wide eyes narrow just slightly.

“You know,” you murmur, staring down at the corpse between you, “if someone tried to bite me. My blood’s probably awful. There’s something wrong with me.” you glance back at him, watching the way his grin widens like it’s some private joke only he gets. “You’d agree, wouldn’t you?”

You’re half-joking, but it still stings when he laughs – or whatever you’d call that silent, breathy wheeze of his. He’s doubled over, clutching his stomach like you’ve just told the funniest joke in the world.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice sharper now, a little defensive. You fold your arms over your chest. “Why wouldn’t it be bad? I’m rotting from the inside out, Art. I can feel it. There’s no way it’d taste good.”

He straightens up, wiping at his face even though there’s no tears, no sign of any real laughter – just that grin of his, smeared with someone else’s blood. He takes a step closer, his boots crunching over the snow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, turning away. “I mean it. It’s not romantic to drink from something dead.”

He’s behind you before you can finish the thought, his hands curling over your shoulders in a way that makes your skin crawl – and not because you don’t like it. You hate that you do. That you want him to hold you tighter, to crush you in that terrible grip of his.

“I mean, maybe it’s fitting,” you continue. “You’re a demon. I’m a vampire. We’re both monsters. But even monsters deserve something better than this, don’t you think?”

Art spins you around in one fluid movement, his hands dropping to your arms to hold you in place. You can feel the press of his fingers through your clothing, too strong, too insistent, but you don’t pull away. He’s tilting his head again, his grin growing impossibly wider, like he’s daring you to keep talking.

“You don’t believe me,” you say softly.

He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. Then, quick as a flash, his hand moves to his chest, dragging his fingers down like he’s unzipping it, miming something pulling at his heart.

You swallow hard. “You’re just saying that.”

He glares at you, his grin faltering for the first time. It’s subtle, just the faintest twitch at the corners of his mouth, but it’s enough to make your breath catch.

“Okay, okay,” you say quickly, raising your hands in surrender. “You love me. I get it. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

He doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his face inches from yours. You can smell the copper tang of blood on him, can see the splatters drying on his skin.

Maybe he doesn’t care what’s wrong with you, doesn’t care if your blood tastes like poison, if your body is too far gone to be anything worth having. He just loves you.

[razzellyn]

Cuddles!!

No tricks this time!! Just fluffy cuddle session!!!

Part 2!!!!

MCB

Part 1 here!!!

Notes in the end!!!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dexter

• Oh he's a cuddle bug. He doesn't act like it, but he's very cuddly at times. He also doesn't really mind when someone sees you two, still would prefer to be in private though.

• Sometimes the two of you cuddle while nature/bird watching. He often points out the little creatures that the two of you could find and then share fun facts about them. He yaps like that only to the people he trusts.

• More often than not he bombards you with kisses all over your face. How? By pressing his face against yours of course!

Fleta Z

• He's a bit hesitant for some reason, but once you've convinced him he's actually very into it. He also takes this time to learn more about you! Maybe even sway your heart with a compliment or two.

• Not overly cuddly, but he will smother you in affection. In fact, he's not leaving you alone until you give him his daily hugs.

• Soft kith after every cuddle/hugs. No backing out from him! He will hunt you down (not literally). Quite the gentleman while he kissed you. Very gentle indeed.

Wild Guardy

• What's a cuddle?

• Jk, he knows what cuddle is. He just doesn't know what to think of it. You'll have to slowly introduce him to the concept too, start by holding his hands and then side-hug him, etc.

• Overtime he does gets comfortable and decided to cuddle. He's awkward and terribly nervous about it, but he's doing great. Be patient with him okay?

• He usually asks for cuddles when either of you are stressed out about something or just having a terrible day in general. Surprise him with a peck on his cheek too, that helps him greatly.

Buffalo Crush

• Absolute cuddle bug. You might be crushed under his strength, but don't worry, he always apologizes after. Oh and please hug him daily, he loves it.

• He is also the one to DRAG you to a cuddle if he thinks you haven't spend much time with him yet. Though he will be a bit shy about it at first. He just loves being close to you okay!!!

• Unfortunately he's hard to be pushed away once you do cuddle. It was either him or the world. The world, which means letting him hug you to death. Him, which means leaving him to sulk in the corner.

Buster Gallon

• He'll make a comment about how it's a waste of time and is a useless thing to do, but then when you pull him into a hug he puts his entire weight on you and cuddles you like crazy.

• The cuddle doesn't end until he says so. Well you could just bribe him with a kiss or two if you want to be freed, but that's a 50/50 chance. He's tired of Black Dan's bullsh t man let him be.

• He also lets go when someone randomly comes in on you two cuddling. If they make fun of you two, he's hunting them down. If they don't make a single comment, he just lets them be. He's got a red face though so that's something.

Black Hook

• It's also a 50/50 situation with him. He'd either be immediately into it or he thinks it's stupid and leaves. Let's be real, his actions depends on his mood.

• That being said, despite being the leader of his team, he's quite gentle with holding you. Unless he's been feeling a bit down, he's going to cuddle you until death.

• Don't expect to be treated like a royalty though, he's a pirate not a servant. He's going to cuddle you whenever and wherever he wants to. Yes, even in mid air, however that works.

Heavy Iron

• Definitely thinks he's better as a big spoon than a small spoon. Well he's true, but he's definitely more 'cuter' as a small spoon. He won't admit it but you will.

• He'll hug you when he feels like it, or you're genuinely in one of your less preferred moods. That being said, if he was also in one of his preferred moods, a quick cuddle does well in calming him down.

• The same as the two above, it's a 50/50 situation with him unfortunately. He's not exactly a lovey dovey type so... don't expect much out of him.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

First of all, i would just like to say

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Secon of all, i am SO SOSOSOSOSOS SORRY for being gone for MONTHS

eugh I'm so lazy at times and so busy at the same time it's FKALRBSOCNW

No srsly I'm so sorry

I'M SORRY

I'm sorrryysyaurhisyroah 😭😭😭

Anyways hope y'all like this part 😋

[discordiansamba]

thinking about the jazz era atla au again. cannot really emphasize enough how terrible zuko's mental state is in that like, first year after the coup when he's acting entirely on his own. he hasn't even talked to piandao about his blue spirit activities. the man literally just expected zuko to quietly live in hiding which is of course. a massive mistake. of course zuko wasn't just going to sit around and do nothing.

toph forcing her way into his life and then later dragging yue into it literally saved him in ways he doesn't quite know how to express. it's no small wonder that he is then, completely ride or die for the both of them. it's why he decides to go the north pole when there's only a whisper of a rumor that admiral zhao is planning on killing the moon spirit while their under the guise of a diplomatic mission.

(he's so glad he went.)

iroh might be oblivious to their actual past, but he is not oblivious to how much his nephew was struggling. he can tell that his new friends have been very good for him, and he is infinitely grateful to the both of them- even as it becomes quite clear that all three of them are involved in terrorism. he trusts his nephew, and knows that if he is engaged in such actions, then he must have good reason for it.

(it is also why he quietly encourages honesty, while taking care not to reveal how much he actually knows. surely if the avatar understood why his nephew was doing what he was doing...

...when he does eventually come clean to the avatar, iroh is very proud of him. he wishes his nephew would be honest with him as well, but whatever his reasons are, iroh senses he does not want him specifically to know them. he is not stupid. he knows there is something hidden in the past he has forgotten. something important. he would like to help his nephew if he can...

...but every time he tries to remember, he can't. it feels as if there is some great sorrow blocking his path- and iroh is afraid to tackle it.)

[artofkhaos404]

what are your villain!todoroki headcanons 👀

Thanks for the ask, man! I got a few...

× Sometime before Shoto decides he wants to go to UA, imagine Dabi leaving an anonymous note for him, asking to meet alone, and on the note are some details listed about Shoto's abusive childhood that no one could have possibly known unless they lived in the Todoroki household. That's a mystery Shoto can't resist solving, so he meets up with him. Dabi reveals his identity as Touya Todoroki and explains to Shoto why he's doing what he's doing- to reveal the truth of Endeavor's evil deeds to the world. Dabi offers Shoto an opportunity to help in this plot, or if nothing else, a way out of his abusive household; coming to live with his brother. Maybe Shoto has to take some time to think about it, but eventually, he makes the decision secretly run away and move in with Dabi to escape Endeavor- but nothing more. However, the more time he spends hanging around the League and hearing their own horror stories, the more time he spends bonding with his brother and experiencing new things with him he was never allowed to before, Todoroki begins to realize just how much damage has been done unto him by his parents. As time goes on, he begins to see their perspective and understand their plight intimately. He grows to hate commercialized heroism in general; because if someone as terrible as Endeavor can become a hero... what could the other greats be hiding behind their masks? And how much pain could be relieved from victims of fake heroes, such as himself and Dabi, if someone were to stop these "heroes?" Wouldn't that act be heroism; true and unadulterated? Shoto then makes the decision to join his brother in the mission that Stain began before them; to tear corrupted hero society to the ground.

× I don't think Shoto would abandon his morals completely as a villain. He would consider himself more akin to an underground hero that works with villains for a common goal. Most of he and Dabi's arguments would probably revolve around this 😅

× His villain costume would be just as simple and practical as his hero costume. I imagine the same design, but in white and black rather than the dark blue.

× Even when he's old enough to get a place of his own, Shoto decides to stay in Dabi's apartment. Growing up with so many siblings, living alone sounds more lonely than it's worth to him despite his introversion. Dabi and Shoto are both quiet types who enjoy their own spaces, but they also both value the comfort of a presence being in the other room.

× I could see Shoto taking in a stray cat, maybe one who is injured or blind or missing an ear, and bringing it back to Dabi's apartment. At first, Dabi said it was a waste of time and money and that he should throw the thing out. But after seeing how much comfort the little furball brought Shoto, he stopped complaining about it.

× Dabi would train Shoto to use his left side; insisting on helping his brother get over the fear of being like their father in order for Shoto to realize his full potential.

× Shoto would have trouble getting along with the more impulsive, violent League members such as Shigaraki- Dabi would often end up playing referee (all the while chuckling at the colorful yet painfully accurate insults Shoto would throw).

× Despite this, Shoto can be just as impulsive if you trigger him on the wrong day. Instead of becoming warmer through the series, like in canon, Shoto would become colder and more heartless as time went on. He would never hurt someone for the thrill, but if he feels you need to be brought to justice or if you step to him, he'll do what he feels like.

× And if you hurt a child and he sees it or hears about it? Might as well count yourself dead. Same goes for Dabi. They may be cruel people, but they don't stand for child abuse.

× It wasn't always this way. When they were first reunited, Shoto saw Dabi do unspeakable things- even to children. But gradually, through one another's influence, Shoto became a better villain and Dabi became a better person.

[deathbxnny]

I’ve been busy.. but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming!

Can i request platonic Vi with a best friend that is like Wriothesley? I didnt realized how similar those two are until i saw Wriothesley’s birthday art. It’s just.. mind blowing. ALSO WRIOTHESLEY AND CLORINDE, VI AND CAITLYN. DO YOU SEE IT?! Personally, i dont ship Wrio and Clorinde but i can see why people even ship them in the first place. I see them as platonic besties who support their endeavor with their respective lover (Neuvilette and Navia respectively)

Context:

Reader and Vi met in prison and just clicked bc they just understood each other. When Caitlyn came to ask Vi for help, Vi also made Caitlyn to allow reader out with her as well. Whatever happens next is your choice to make but please also note how reader is from Piltover.

That’s all and have a good day/night!

(School is just.. really busy rn and i have my final exams next week. Im honestly scared, so i might not be active for a while here. But know that i do read your stuff to time to time to destress. Also i really like the post with my navia request, tysm ^_^)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Vi with a best friend Wriothesley-like!Gn!Reader.

Your words about the Wriothesley and Clorinde comparison have enlightened something in my mind lmao. Also, good luck with your exams, Flower Anon! I really, really hope that they go well and dw about not being active much! I appreciate your support either way and hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is from Piltover, past murders, crimes, platonic relationships, Vi and Reader being a menace duo, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You and Vi had your backs from day one after meeting in Stillwater. You were both teens then, having been imprisoned under terrible circumstances, and that made you stick together as a team. There was no one else to look out for you in that hell after all.

During your long, seemingly endless time in jail, you both got to know each other perfectly, with no details about your pasts spared. She came to know about your dark past and the murder of your abusive parents rather early on, yet never judged you for it. If anything, she may have been the only one to understand you.

This was surprising, considering your vastly different upbringings. Vi came from poverty down in the slums of Zaun, whilst you once tasted silver spoons and golden dishes on the daily. But it all faded in this hellscape of a prison, where you both endured torture and pain as equals.

You became an unlikely duo out of that, one that upheld a scary and menacing reputation amongst prisoners and wards alike. She was the more angry, violent one, whilst you were a bit of a joker, your words alone enough to send shivers down anyone's spines. It made you both feel more confident and hopeful, even if a way out was unlikely after many years spent in the prison.

Now, far into your adulthood, you decided to give up on that childish dream of freedom, accepting that your life in Stillwater is all you'll ever know. You were used to it by now and built a routine to follow and survive with. But things changed when that Enforcer girl showed up.

You didn't trust her at all, despite roughly remembering who she was. And unfortunately, she remembered you two, although for all the wrong reasons she would simply scoff at. However, since Vi decided to make a deal with Caitlyn, you decided to leave the past behind and simply accept this opportunity to finally escape this place.

And so, after what felt like endless years of fighting for your survival together, you were finally permitted to breathe, mostly, fresh air and live freely again... even with the grim mission at hand that often left you having to comfort Vi whenever things got too out of hand with her emotions. Hunting down Jinx was more traumatic than she'd let on anyways.

But alas, you eventually began enjoying your time out by trying new tea and pastries, running around your okd neighborhoods, and beating up people with Vi that wronged her in the past. It was all in good fun, even if Caitlyn had to hunt you both down every time.

You were the more calmer and gentler out of the three of you, however, as your rationality and ability to lead effortlessly often came in handy. You were somewhat of a balance between the two when things got really bad, despite your own reservations, and eventually ended up being an accidental wingman with how well you spoke of Vi to Cait. You knew firsthand how bad the prejudice against Zaunites could be and would be damned if she ever mistreated Vi because of it.

Ultimately, life turned out a lot more chaotic outside than it was outside of the prison... but with your best friend at your side, you suppose things would only get more interesting from here.

[twistedcrumbs2]

Just an intrusive thought to add to the series of random ideas that strike me throughout the day—this time while working out to the most chaotic playlist you can imagine.

A workout routine with Jack!

Maybe you’ve suddenly found yourself dropped into another world, surrounded by traumatized and slightly unhinged students (or completely unhinged, depending on how you look at it), all while trying to survive the chaos of an insane school semester. Naturally, you’ve barely had any time to care for yourself. Just maybe.

Then, during one of Professor Vargas’ motivational lectures—peppered with lines like “Exercise is essential for self-care! Just look at me!” and “A healthy mind lives in a healthy body!”—a thought crosses your mind: “Alright, one hour of exercise a day won’t kill me… probably.”

To be fair, realizing you can’t even chase Grim around the dorm without gasping for air and nearly collapsing was the final push you needed. Something had to change—and fast.

The problem? You have no idea where to start. After mulling it over, you decide to drop by the athletic club. Watching others train might give you a clue (or, let’s be real, trigger some anxiety—there are a lot of sweaty guys in short shorts, after all).

As soon as you arrive, the first familiar faces you spot are Jack and Deuce, who immediately look at you like you’ve just fallen out of the sky (which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth).

After some chatting, you explain why you’re there. Jack, much to your surprise, seems more excited about your decision than you are.

And let’s be honest—given his physique, it’s no shock that the wolf beastman is the living embodiment of a gym rat. As you ramble about wanting to get into shape, his tail swishes back and forth, his subtle smile betraying just how thrilled he is.

— That’s great. If you need anything, just let me know, — he offers sincerely.

And, of course, you take him up on it. Jack is easily the most dedicated person you know when it comes to fitness, and more importantly, he’s kind enough not to expect something outrageous in return.

But it’s a terrible decision.

Not because Jack is bad at helping—quite the opposite. He’s an incredible instructor: patient, committed, and always willing to lend a hand. The issue is that you were expecting something easy. A casual evening stroll, maybe some jumping jacks. Nope.

Instead, Jack shows up that very weekend with a detailed workout plan, complete with an intimidating ABCD schedule (whatever that means), exercises with weird names, and—worst of all—one hour of cardio every day.

Yes, he genuinely wants you to run for an hour. Every day. You’ve seen him jogging past your window before sunrise, but you never thought you’d be dragged into it too.

To make matters worse, some of the exercises sound downright absurd.

— Bent-over barbell rows? — you ask, staring at the workout sheet like it’s written in an alien language. — Do we need to find a boat for this?

Jack chuckles softly and replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world: — No, just a barbell. I’ll show you.

The first few days are brutal. By 8 PM, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet, and your muscles are so sore that walking through the hallways feels like a challenge. But oddly enough, your mornings start to feel a little more structured. Despite the physical exhaustion, Jack’s company makes everything worth it.

During your sessions, you chat about all sorts of things. He even shares tips on improving your diet—always as gentle suggestions, never pushy.

It’s honestly adorable. Hard to believe this is the same guy who nearly kills you with his workouts.

Of course, there are moments of pure misery. Like the time he introduced you to burpees—an exercise that can only be described as modern-day torture. But in the end, the support and camaraderie you share with Jack turn the grueling routines into something almost… enjoyable. Almost.

Jack seems genuinely excited about your commitment. After all, what gym rat wouldn’t want a workout buddy? But it’s more than that. He enjoys your company and takes pride in helping you improve. He even goes out of his way to ensure you’re safe and don’t overdo it.

When you try to slack off—cut a set short or cheat on your form—he sighs heavily and says firmly: — You’re only cheating yourself, not me.

It’s giving strict dad energy.

Yet, he’s also incredibly perceptive. When you get frustrated or demotivated—like the time you stopped mid-run, gasping for air—Jack slows down and walks beside you, encouraging you to keep going at your own pace.

Beyond the workouts, Jack introduces small healthy habits into your daily routine. He reminds you to carry a water bottle, stretches with you before class, and even brings homemade protein bars. He insists they’re nothing special, but you’re convinced he blushed when you complimented how good they were.

As the days pass, you start to notice small improvements—not just in your stamina but also in how much easier your mornings feel. The group grows, too, with Epel, Sebek, and occasionally Deuce joining in. It’s chaotic but oddly fun.

Training with Jack isn’t just about getting fit. It’s about building a deeper connection with him. Because let’s face it—nothing bonds two people like suffering through a set of crunches at six in the morning, right?

Final verdict: 8/10 experience. Exercising is still a nightmare, but Jack makes it bearable.