#i absolutely love this game and its ways they express information to us

[schneiderenjoyer]

I'm looking through character profiles and notice that every item has a labeled price/net worth. So, canonically in-game both Sharpodonty and Clear/Crystal drops are a form of arcanist currency with the Drops being the higher end of the currency sphere (based on item descriptions that uses Drops always mentioned to be highly expensive).

Then that means...I'm reminded how rich Sotheby truly is...

[oh-meretseger]

part 4 - Tease

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

summary: the sexual frustration between you gets to its peak when your first kiss happens (🥹), starting a game of brutal teasing on both sides

notes: 18+! although not so much of a smut (some public touching and groping, making out hehe), mainly fluff, some cute moments before posting some disgustingly dirty smut in the next chapter lmao

word count: 4,6k

"Sasha, stop calling me pookie bear or I'm going ballistic" Jean calmly blinked in her direction after setting the empty box of pad thai down. Sasha was already on her third portion, mercilessly stuffing her face full like she's been starving for a week.

"But you're my pookie bear, what do you mean?" Sasha's jaw stopped chewing, stunned for a moment by hearing such astonishing nonsense, as she stared back at Jean. She notoriously got addicted to every single silly nickname she made up for her friends, and used it uncontrollably until she discovered a new one.

Jean let out an exhausted sigh, but still leaned back on his bed with a chuckle as he shook his head.

"And what about me?" Connie complained loudly from the other bed with a mouth full of noodles. None of the three were giving any more fucks about the movie playing on Connie's notebook in the background.

"You're my pookie pie"

"Yeah, I like pie" Connie shrugged, giving his blessing as Sasha nodded diligently.

"I know"

"Yeah, but I'm not a bear, so how does that work?" Jean huffed, holding back a smile at how Sasha's expression instantly turned outraged, just like he guessed.

"You are!" Sasha snapped at him and Jean laughed out loud. "You're a big ass hairy animal, but still cute and huggable"

"Ah right, thanks" Jean's ironic tone did not faze her in the slightest.

"I'm deeply sorry bro, but I wouldn't say you're cute, at all" Connie's eyes were back on the movie, although his attention was fully on the brilliant, highly knowledgeable conversation in the background.

"Y/N thinks you are" Sasha shrugged carelessly while ruthlessly devouring her last bites of dinner, and Jean's heart started pounding in his chest all of a sudden.

He cleared his throat to avoid choking on his own saliva, and tried to reply just as casually as Sasha spit out this small little information.

"What do you mean?" Jean couldn't believe how flustered he became by simply hearing your name. He didn't like it. The hell is his heart beating so fast for?

"She has the biggest crush on you, don't tell me you didn't notice" Sasha giggled to herself at Jean's honest, dumb expression. She found you two idiots adorable, pretending you didn't absolutely have the hots for each other.

"The hell are you on? They're at each other's throats all the fucking time" Connie turned his head at hearing such nonsensical gibberish.

"I truly feel sorry for you men sometimes" Sasha blinked at two of the most imbecile faces she's ever seen. "Are you really that slow?! Why in tarnation do you think I left you two alone?"

Jean felt heat spread through his body as images of you popped up in his memory, your warm body against his, teeth sunk into his skin...

"They fucked?!" Connie yelled out in shock and Jean couldn't help cracking up at how serious he sounded.

"Not YET" Sasha looked at Connie with a nod of true wisdom as Jean huffed in disapproval. Although deep inside, a feeling of excitement started to make him tingle.

"Shut your silly mouth, Sasha" Jean snapped at her, holding back a smile trying to climb up on his face all the way from his heart. "You've been acting a fool since you started latching onto that canteen guy"

"My brother in Christ, you're in denial" Sasha gave up. She already knew you were bound to be together anyway. "And I've always been silly, Niccolo just brings out the best in me"

"I love that guy, he makes the best risottos" Connie agreed in his own way, still pretending to watch the movie.

"He cooks me his secret special meals" she added, her eyes literally sparkling with pure bliss as she said those words, and Jean rolled his eyes. "I'm bringing him to your party, Consuelo"

"That's literally not my name" Connie stated, not even moving his eyes from the screen in front of him.

"Okay, Conrad"

"I'm texting Marco to come" Jean grabbed his phone, verbalizing his actions as both Sasha and Connie turned their head in excitement.

"Yesss, I miss Marco!"

You were rather anxious about this party. Connie's parents lived close to the campus, and the group of people Connie invited over to their house sounded fun when Sasha listed them all to you in detail. But still, there was something unnerving about a night of careless fun, coming out of your little shell and letting yourself go in front of such new people, in front of Jean.

"C'mon, we're gonna have an amazing time!" Sasha encouraged you after seeing a small anxious frown form on your face.

"I know, it's always an amazing time with you guys" you smiled, your heart pounding hard at the thought of seeing Jean at the party. "But what should I wear?"

"POOKIE, let me help you with that" Sasha jumped up from your bed and shot straight to your closet, as you watched her with an entertained grin.

You walked down the hallway on the way to your afternoon class, Friday leaving a freeing bliss in your chest as you listened to your playlist. The always busy corridor was now almost empty, everyone having left the stress of weekdays behind to finally enjoy their free time. Anxiety turned into a small glimpse of excitement in your stomach the past few days, and you couldn't wait for it to be tomorrow night.

Your headphones suddenly flying off of your head jerked you out of being in your own thoughts, and before you could even react, a strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a narrow passageway with an overwhelming force.

Your body crashed into a much larger frame, and a familiar sense of warmth flowed through you as Jean's smell hit your nose before you could even get a look at your kidnapper.

"Hey! Give it back!" your hand shot towards his immediately, but of course with one movement of his arm your headphones were instantly removed far from your reach, as he held it up above his head. A grin grew on his face as he looked down at you, his other hand still squeezing your wrist, and once again, you felt your cheeks get warm under his intense stare. That stupid cocky grin of his...

"D'you think I should?" Jean's voice was smooth and low, enough to make your mind go hazy. You couldn't believe how fast it all could get too much. His intoxicating scent, the warmth of his body as he towered over you, his fingers' touch on your skin, his voice and beautiful hazel eyes melting you into a puddle...

You felt weak.

"Can you stop doing that? My arm is getting all bruised up from you pulling on it" you sneered up at him, not even trying to get further away as your bodies pressed into each other. Jean's eyes slipped down to your plump lips as you mockingly smirked. "And kidnapping me"

"Kidnapping you? You could definitely not move your little hands around like that, if I were to kidnap you" Jean's raised hand inched lower and lower to slowly put your headphones around your neck as your eyes desperately pierced into his. You felt yourself melt into him, his look deliberately making you go soft and mindless, as his delicious-looking lips were so dangerously close to you...

As Jean's other hand became free, it slid down on the sleeve of your hoodie to grab your other wrist. The hard grip of his hands restraining yours was enough to make you soaking wet.

And that strangely made your confidence bounce right back.

"Why are you stalking me anyway?" you stared into his eyes with a self-assured smile slightly curving your lips.

Jean felt blood rush right to his crotch at the devilish sparkle in your eyes, almost visibly turning dark as you looked up at him. What a naughty girl.

Although weakness was palpable in the air between both of you. You both knew you would fold the moment your hips pressed into each other just a tad bit more.

Jean's hands gripping your wrists moved them behind your back with a swift motion.

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Miss Important" he smiled and you felt yourself blushing again as his arms pulled your body more into his, cuffing your hands behind you. Being controlled by Jean's big arms felt... Heavenly. "You want me to stalk you, don't you?"

"Unlike yourself, I'm not a pervert, dumbass" you let the magic word slip from between your lips, and warmth filled your chest as Jean cracked up. You felt like you could stay in his embrace forever, looking at his handsome face and beautiful smile endlessly... If your pussy didn't ache from the tension of being restrained by his tall frame. "You're lucky you have such pretty eyes, otherwise I would be kneeling on your back right now"

Your obvious joke of physically overcoming him flew right over his head as your words of praise reached his ears - and a slight tint of pink immediately dusted his cheeks. From ear to ear.

You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Jean" your smile grew into the widest grin as the rarest species on planet Earth, flustered Jean hesitated momentarily, looking into your eyes. "Are you-"

You stopped your own words. Instantly wanting to tease him was like a natural instinct, but in a matter of moments, your urge to deepen that adorable blush on his face became overwhelming. You wanted him to know how much your lips desired his at that very moment. You wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to feel good.

Jean felt your body rise onto tiptoes under his arms as your heels parted from the ground and in a second, your face reached his, your lips connecting in a soft kiss.

You immediately melted at feeling each other's lips, sensitive nerves making your hungry minds explode with pleasure. Jean felt all tension leave your body, and let go of one of your wrists to catch you from collapsing. You literally felt your knees give out. Jean's arm felt so strong as it snaked around your waist, you barely audibly whimpered into the kiss - and Jean felt himself grow hard at the sweet sound.

"Mmph y- your lips feel so good" you mumbled against his soft lips and Jean was seeing stars. He never imagined your honeylike voice to be able to make him crumble even more in real life, than on the phone the other day. Your body so hot against his, the touch of your lips so plump and sweet on his, your scent making him feel like he was drunk out of his mind.

Jean let out a quiet moan as your tongue danced along his lower lip, then slipped into his mouth eagerly. Immediately after you granted access, his tongue answered, sliding against yours, and you felt warmth flooding your pussy at the wet sounds you two were making. Jean's one hand gripping your wrist, the other one slowly sliding on the side of your waist, finding its way under your hoodie, making contact with the sensitive skin close to your breast...

It all felt so filthy, you were turned on beyond belief.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Jean grunted quietly after your lips parted, looking into your big, pleading eyes, but you already missed their warmth, so you softly pressed your lips back to his.

“What?” you whispered against him, your eyelids low from the heavenly feeling, and you felt Jean’s lips curve into a smile.

“You make me want to rip this off of you, right here, right now” Jean pulled on the sleeve of your hoodie, then with that same motion he grabbed your hand, removing it from its comfortable place on the side of his neck. You quietly whimpered as you felt one of his large hands gripping both of your wrists behind your back, his now free hand starting to slowly roam over your clothes. “You seem like the type of bad girl that likes the danger of getting caught”

“And you seem like the type to talk big, but do nothing” you knew exactly how bratty you sounded trying to tease Jean, but you also knew he had complete control over you. Your words were snarky, but your eyes blinked up at him with desperation, cheeks flushed with arousal.

Jean let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right” he smiled, but a sinful light flashed in his hazel eyes. Oh, you’re in for it. His free hand skimmed down to the brim of your hoodie, lifting it to expose the jeans tight on your butt. You unintentionally let out a sigh as his fingers gripped into the fabric and he started groping your ass without any shame. “I wouldn’t have the balls to touch you like that”

You felt wetness soaking through your panties at his firm touch, his breath hot on your ear as he looked at his own hand’s movements over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t dare to pull these down” the groping stopped as a long finger creeped under the waist of your jeans, sending chills up your spine as he lightly dragged his fingertip along your skin. “What would we do if someone caught you with pants around your knees, moaning like a whore?”

“Jean” you quietly whined his name, losing your mind as his palm slid up your waist, over that stupid hoodie preventing his skin from touching yours.

“Getting desperate, are we?” he spoke softly, his hand stopping right at the underwire of your bra. Jean’s fingers moved carefully around the curve of your clothed tits, earning another whimper from you as you felt your pussy clench around nothing. “How outrageous would it be to grope your naked tits…”

You wanted him to grab them, feel the soft tissue with his hand, but Jean’s thumb just gently brushed over your nipple getting hard under the multiple layers of clothes.

“Or to take them into my mouth… Suck on them” Jean felt like all the blood in his body rushed to his groin as he pressed his thumb into the plush of your breast. Feeling you against himself, watching your eyes close in pleasure and your pretty swollen lips form an O made it extremely painful to hold his composure. Your flushed cheeks made him want to press you against the wall and do exactly what he just described. “A coward like me wouldn’t wanna get caught licking you, fingers buried in your wet little hole”

Jean felt his hard cock twitch in his pants as you pressed your hips even harder into him, desperate to feel his growing erection. His hand slid onto your delicate neck, fingers gently pushing into the sides.

“Holy-“ you mumbled, your head falling back as Jean leaned closer, his scruff scratching the sensitive skin as he earned access to your neck. His lips grazed over your skin, sending tingles down your body, and he deeply inhaled your sweet scent...

Then everything got cruelly ripped away from you in a matter of seconds.

“See ya tomorrow, smartass” you heard Jean’s voice and your eyes shot open, only to be met with his self-assured, cocky grin. He let go of your wrists and your neck, hands sliding into the pockets of his denim jacket while he stepped back, depriving you of the blissful heat of his body.

Jean felt so satisfied, so pleased with himself. You stood there for a moment, left utterly confused, your big eyes still eager, blinking towards him, swollen lips parted as if you wanted to say something, but the feeling of surprise made you catch your breath. You were so adorable, he had to hold back a chuckle.

He liked how confident sexual tension seemed to make you, but he just couldn’t help himself teasing you, making you go weak under his control.

“Je-“ a fragile little sound tried to break through the shock gripping your throat, but Jean’s reply cut you off as he turned his back to you, simply walking away.

“Tomorrow!”

You just stood there, astounded, your heart still racing, warmth filling your cheeks and panties damp from your wetness. Jean’s grip still burned the skin on your wrists and neck like a phantom. Your mind was so confused, you couldn’t even be mad at the man arrongantly strolling away from you like this was the most entertaining walk of his life.

And you completely forgot about the afternoon class you were originally headed to.

Frustration quickly turned into confidence as you stood in front of the mirror in your dorm after your little ice cream date with Sasha, getting ready for the party. It was a rare occasion, so you let your hair down, to Sasha’s biggest delight.

"You look sooo good, dear lord!" she exclaimed with an enthusiastic smile, encouraging you to do a little spin and she howled like a wolf.

"C'mon, it's not that special" you laughed at her excessive reaction. "But you do look breathtaking in that dress, emerald suits you"

"You think so?" Sasha looked down at herself, hands soothing the thin fabric. It was quite short, sleeves off the shoulders, showing off her delicate, pale skin. She truly looked beautiful.

"Niccolo's gonna pee his pants seeing you" you nodded and Sasha cracked up.

"He better pee his pants" she slipped her arms into her bolero. "And Jean better jizz his pants, to be honest"

"Sasha!" you chuckled as you shook your head, trying to shake off the thought of Jean orgasming, in any way, before your blushing could give any awkward feelings away. Sasha jumped to you and leaned over to pull your dress in all the right places to make it look even better. It was black and tight, its length ending right above your knees, but a longer slit letting one of your thighs be seen.

"What? You're a goddess, you better start believing that" Sasha threw her oversized leather jacket on your shoulders. "C'mon, grab your phone, let's go"

Connie's parents must be delighted to let a bunch of kids trash their house, you thought, as Sasha closed the door of your Uber and caught up to you waiting on the pavement. It seemed like a nice and quiet neighborhood, now muffled thuds breaking the silence of the street as you heard the bass of the music coming from inside.

"Bruh, Cornelius told me he invited twenty people at max" Sasha noted as you walked past a few unfamiliar faces sitting on the stairs of the front porch, drinking and cackling loudly. She swung the front door open like she owned the place, and the brutal noise hit you in your chest.

"Who the hell is Cornelius?" you asked with an amused laugh, but Sasha couldn't hear you anymore, the sound of loud music, people shouting, laughing and just generally being intoxicated deafening both of you. Sasha grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

Bumping into a bunch of strangers in a dimly lit room and loud noise overwhelming your senses was not how you imagined Connie's "friendly get together" to go.

"There he is" Sasha let go of your hand as you reached the kitchen, the lights brighter and the noise slightly less disturbing than in the crowded living room. You leaned against the doorframe where Sasha left you as you watched Sasha punch Connie's arm without a word being spoken between them.

"AARGH, are you out of your mind?" Connie jumped back from the open fridge in shock, his hand shooting towards the painful shoulder.

"You told me it was gonna be a small party! How are we supposed to order pizza for so many people?" Sasha yelled at him, absolutely infuriated about the food situation.

Non-existant food situation, may we add.

"Why should we order pizza for everyone?! I don't even know them, who cares?" Connie yelled back at her, grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge. "Did you come over to ask brainless questions, or will you let me have a fucking break?"

"Hi Y/n!" you suddenly heard your name from behind and your head snapped towards the familiar voice. You were met with Berthold's smile and his usual peaceful expression, not even minding Sasha and Connie killing each other in the background.

"Hi Bert" you smiled back, happy to see him. You rarely got to talk to him at the one single class you had together. "How are you?"

"Uh, good thanks, barely holding on inside this hell of a house" he replied and you chuckled, perfectly understanding his struggle with crowded, loud places.

"You're telling me! I feel like exploding and we just arrived" you shook your head. "Where's Annie?"

"We're sitting outside on the patio, you should join us. It's a lot more quiet out there" he suggested as a large hand slapped on his shoulder. You looked up at the tall man appearing next to Bert, broad shoulders towering over you, fingers running through his blonde hair, bright eyes and a charming smile glistening towards you. "This is my friend, Reiner, by the way. I don't think you've met"

"Nice to meet you, Reiner" you nodded with a friendly smile and he accepted your hand reaching towards him, shaking it gently.

"The pleasure's mine, Y/n" Reiner softly returned your smile, and you started to feel flustered at the intense eye contact. "How come I've never seen you around campus?"

"She's pretty lame, looks like a grey little mouse most of the time" an unmistakable voice appeared next to you, and you turned to Jean sticking out your  tongue in an instant. Bert rolled his eyes with a laugh and went over to the fridge, probably getting the drinks he originally came there for.

"Who asked the blockhead?" you snapped back as Jean stopped close to you, one arm pressing to yours, grinning down at you.

Your heart secretly started racing just by seeing him.

"Dunno man, looks like a gorgeous mouse to me" Reiner said winking at you, then turned and went to join Bert pondering in front of the open fridge. Warmth spread on your face as you watched Reiner grab a beer, and you deliberately avoided looking at Jean. "You want one, Jeanbo?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks" Jean replied casually, but clenched his teeth as he looked down at your face, blushed from his compliment. The hell are you blushing for? Is this buff jock what you're into? Reiner, really?

Jean's jaw relaxed at the thought of how you'd probably clown him for being jealous. Jealous, good lord... It was like you sensed his eyes stuck on you, you raised your face to look at him with those big, sparkling eyes.

How could he not be jealous?

"Big man's not wrong" Jean said softly, so only you could hear, his eyes glancing over your outfit, then back to your face, and you felt your cheeks burn under his look. "You look beautiful"

Your heart fluttered at his words and you couldn't help the smile instantly widening on your face. You turned your whole body towards Jean and felt your stomach flip at how his hazel eyes glistened right back at you with a warm smile.

"You look pretty handsome yourself" you grinned, moving to hold both of his hands. Jean's heart fluttered to the same rhythm yours did as the sight of your pretty smile and the touch of your fingers combined started to make him melt. "This shirt looks so good on you"

Your fingers ran along the collar of his dark button-up shirt, the fabric soft, comfy and smelling of his delicious scent.

"Don't try to make me blush, you little rat" he grunted with a low voice, making you laugh out loud, and he lifted his hands to grab both sides of your face, long fingers reaching into your hair at the nape of your neck. Tingles ran down your spine as your arms moved automatically to hug his waist as he stood so close to you. "Where are your glasses, smartass?"

"I'm wearing contacts" you blinked up at him as he stroked a few strands of your hair to tug them behind your ears.

Your stomach doing a backflip once again.

"I like the glasses" he brushed his thumb over your cheek, then looked back to your eyes, making your body burn with the familiar sense of warmth. "But you look pretty regardless"

You swallowed your reply as Jean's eyes shot to your lips. So plump and invitingly glistening with gloss. He wanted to kiss you so much.

"I like the earrings, too" Jean swiftly shifted his eyes to the little silver figures dangling from your ears. He  thought they wonderfully emphasized your delicate little neck.

"Thanks, they're ladybugs" you grinned and Jean chuckled.

"Are they your little magical ladybugs? I knew you were a witch" he watched with a smirk as you bursted into laughing. He also noticed the shimmery eyeshadow on your eyelids, and how the makeup and your jewellery complimented your look so well. Although he knew exactly how gorgeous you were without them.

"You're very attentive tonight, Jeanbo" you sneered at him and Jean rolled his eyes at your smug smile. He hated that nickname.

"He's my teammate, your ass is not allowed to use that name"

"Will I be allowed if I start beating you with a stick as well?" your smile widened at making Jean crack up.

"The hell do you think we do while playing hockey?" he laughed, one of his hands moving to grab your chin. "It's not just beating each other with sticks, believe it or not"

"Sure" you borderline didn't even know what you were talking about. Not even having a sip of alcohol yet, you smiled up at Jean drunkenly, intoxicated by how good he felt to all of your senses at that moment.

Sasha's loud sounds of excitement snapped you both out of your own little world.

"WHAT, they're filled with cherry cream?!" she covered her mouth with a hand, in a state of complete shock as Niccolo held out a tray of cupcakes in front of her.

Niccolo nodded with an enthusiastic smile in your direction, and you waved at him with an amused chuckle as Jean let go of you and walked over to them. You've already met Niccolo countless times, but you could never get enough of their emotion-filled interactions with Sasha - strong emotions about food, mostly.

"Hey!" Connie yelped as Sasha slapped his hand trying to steal from the dessert. "This is my house, give me a cupcake!"

"It's your father's house, Constance" Sasha stated seriously, and you bursted out laughing as Connie's low-lidded stare met your eyes. He was so tired of the names.

"Are you pulling these names out of your ass?"

"I'm pulling the cupcake out of your ass, if you dare to steal any of- HEY!" Sasha practically jumped on Connie's back as he rapidly grabbed one of them from the tray, trying to get away and stuff it into his mouth before Sasha could stop him.

A few people, unfamiliar with this otherwise very usual situation, quickly left the kitchen before they found themselves in the middle of a physical altercation, and you and Jean were in absolute hysterics.

"Eat it then, you fucking piece of pie!" Sasha shouted at Connie, still riding on his back, smearing the cherry cupcake around his face with her palm.

"Uh- Yo-" Connie's desperate attempts of yells were muffled as Niccolo tried to pull Sasha from him with no success. "Y'suff- You'll suffocate me!"

"Ah, feels like I never left town" a voice laughed loudly next to you, and you raised your teary eyes to look at the stranger. The tall, brunette man stepped straight to Jean, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he snatched his head in his direction.

"MARCO!"

[windienine]

the best game of 2024 was an hour-long visual novel demo, and i can't tell you how it ends

attack and dethrone god.

okay. oh my god. soul of sovereignty by ggdg (of lady of the shard & deltarune fame) is discounted for only a few more days, so i need to get this one out while the iron's hot.

so: i'm inviting you along on another journey. we're following a polite gentleman of the wizardly inclination (loïc) who is approached by a sickly woman in dire need (ysmé). all she requests, in her plea, is an escort to guide her to the nearby temple. his decision to support her may turn out to be the most important choice he ever makes.

... have you ever enjoyed the kind of narrative that traps two people with heavily contrasting motives and personalities together in an unbreakable contract? do you like stories of absolute devotion?

i could look at this shot forever ngl

... are you compelled by immersive speculative fantasy worlds where the use and study of magic heavily influences the rhythm of people's day-to-day lives?

(really intriguing magical linguistics system going on here)

... do you ever promise too much of yourself to others, sometimes, even when it's a bad idea?

... if it was possible -- if you could -- would you abandon your humanity for the power to change your world forever?

and, whatever you may feel in your heart about the above...

do you want to see behind the eyes of a hot trans girl as she bullshits her way into a truly volatile level of power and influence and gets everything she wants?

(+ her pet dilf lovely assistant)

if even one of these elicited a "yes," i think you'll love this story.

i'll go out of a limb:

i think, if you open up your heart, you'll find yourself falling for both of the leads. It's a game that really wants you to look at it from every angle, take it apart, and ask questions about loïc, ysmé, their stories, and what they believe to be true about the world and one another. subtext -- especially the charged subtext this story throws at you and hopes you'll piece together -- is a beautiful thing.

the number of talksprites in this demo is kind of staggering

the jrpg-inspired world of the mosaic and its surroundings is as vibrant as it is profoundly lonely, color folded into every facet of its character as you move through it. appropriately, it's really invested in a lot of questions that arise not just from high fantasy as a genre, but from the modern fantasy sensibilities of jrpgs and the interrogation of what divinity even means in a world where the gods are forces you can interact with and draw power from, however indirectly.

what can i even say? that gg and toby fox's collab score for the prelude is downright heavenly and made it onto my work playlist right alongside the deltarune ost the day it came out on bandcamp? that gg's art, especially their use of light, conveys every scene with vivid beauty?

i wouldn't be posting so much of it if i didn't want to eat every CG. oh my god. he's so pretty. it's not even fair

beyond all of that, i think the game's main resonance point with people is that gg's writing is genuinely thoughtful. they use art detail and deft character writing to convey everything about the leads, using the limited time you get with it to paint layers and layers of information on who these people are and why they make the decisions they do. soulsov's roughly an-hour-and-change of text, expressive talksprites, and lush CGs is infused with so much heart and so much horror and so much intrigue that it leaves you feeling like you're a part of this world, carried along for the ride right alongside the two leads. gg clearly really adores these two, and that level of passion makes everything loïc and ysmé do shine even brighter. in spite of (or perhaps because of) all their friction and flaws, they're easy to love.

(it's really fun to read aloud as a script, too! ysmé's a hoot.)

i hope you experience it with high expectations and an open heart. i don't think it will disappoint. it is, perhaps, just a little bit magical.

i hope you see it through to the end!

[memescomicswriting]

It's Nice to Have A Friend

Ch 2: There's Many Different Ways That You Can Kill The One You Love

Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.

Word Count 9.4K

Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned

Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, eventual smut

A/N: God this chapter was such a task to write, but really enjoyable too. We see Y/N a year after moving in with Harwin and then six years after moving in with Harwin. For any age/timeline confusion, please check the Background information

Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise!

Sereies Masterlist

It was no secret that Harwin had absolutely zero idea what to do with a girl. Even after a year with Y/N. He was as loving and supportive as anyone could hope for in a father figure. He encouraged her bike riding, various sport interests, and taught her how to kick the crap out of any boy who dared look at her wrong. Where he got lost- the hormones, attitude, and subtleties. Even his childhood friends, male, on the more sensitive side could not compare to the urgency a young teenage girl put onto every aspect of her life. Probably because they all had the attention span of a goldfish back then.

She can’t get her hair back into the perfect ponytail. Her hair is ugly and awful! No, she HAD to have the latest game console because all her friends have it and she was being left out. Arya must hate her because she didn’t sit with her at lunch today! Any inconvenience was a potentially life altering event. Harwin didn’t find Y/N less than a boy for it. They certainly had their own complications. He just didn’t know what to do about it. His own mother passed when he was young. So he had next to no insight on girls in general. Then the period came.

Late one night Harwin was awoken by muffled crying. That wasn’t an odd phenomenon in the apartment. Y/N lost her parents. She had every right to cry. Harwin always made sure to check in. If she wanted him to hold her, he would. If she wanted space, he’d give her that. What he didn’t expect was the bathroom light on, sink blasting, and Y/N fervently scrubbing blood off of her night bottoms. When they made eye contact, Y/N broke out into full sobs. It took some time, and encouraging deep breaths, to understand the entirety of the situation. Y/N woke up feeling like she needed to use the restroom. Then she felt it. The wet. Y/N panicked, flipped the light, and was horrified. She couldn’t understand what was going on. Obviously her mother hadn’t gotten the chance to explain what she’d one day go through.

Harwin felt helpless. There she was tired, sobbing like the world was ending, and he didn’t know how to comfort her. Mimicking her frantic energy, Harwin began sending texts and making calls at 3 am. He didn’t stop until he received the call he needed.

There was the click of the phone connection, a breath to say something, but Harwin anxiously spoke first. “Rhaenyra.”

Any annoyance that she might have expressed jerked to concern. She sat up against the headboard. Joffrey just fell asleep after a nightmare. She spoke as directly as she could while maintaining a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

Gods bless Harwin. He hadn’t been gifted a glossary for teenage girl issues. “Y/N got her period.” It was blunt, directly to the point. There was no other way he could formulate the night's events into a gentle analogy.

Rhaenyra let out a reminiscent chuckle. Her father acted the same way. He was panicked as well, but above all, concerned. It clued her in on how much he cared for her. “Well she is of that age.”

“Rhaenyra.” He repeated her name with more strain. His voice hushed as he shifted away from Y/N’s door. “She’s bleeding and crying. I can’t seem to explain this to her in a way that doesn’t make the crying worse. Her bed’s a mess and I have nothing for her to use.”

Though he had difficulty understanding the more dramatic of her female tendencies, sometimes he entirely forgot that she was a girl. He didn’t think of her as a boy, just a kid who needed him. His kid. The simple biological inevitable had slipped past his radar.

“Okay, okay.” Rhaenyra straightened her tone. “Stop trying to explain it. Tell her everythings going to be okay. Strip the bed and let her know it’s just bedding. It’s disposable. Let her run a bath or shower or whatever she wants. While she does that, quickly go to the twenty-four hour pharmacy. Get sanitary wipes, small pads with wings, pain reliever if you don’t already have some, an electrolyte drink, and if they have them, period underwear. It will specifically say period underwear.”

“I-” Harwin nodded, committing the list to memory. “I can do that.”

“When you get back, put her to bed. Everything will be better in the morning.” Rhaenyra let out a sigh. She brushed her loose hair out of her eyes and over her head. “Bring her by the house tomorrow. You can take the boys and I’ll.. I’ll explain things to her.”

Harwin let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you Rhae.”

Harwin hadn’t explained much the next morning. He didn’t want to traumatize the poor girl more. Though there was protest about leaving the apartment in her condition, Y/N relented and got in the car. She was confused and a tad fearful when she recognized the driveway they’d pulled into.

“I can’t go in there Harwin.” When they’d parked, she jumped in her seat and clung to his arm. “The boys! The boys will want to play and I- I can’t do that!”

Harwin ran his hands down her hair stopping to caress her cheeks. “I promise you everything will be alright. The boys won’t bother you.”

She didn’t have much time to protest. Rhaenyra slipped out of the house and made her way to the car. The two older boys came barrelling out of the house and into the front lawn. Laenor followed behind with little Joffrey in his arms. Betrayal flashed in Y/N’s eyes and it struck Harwin right in the heart. She turned back to the outside world when the car door was opened for her.

“Hi Y/N. I hope you don’t mind the boys borrowing Harwin for the day. They’ve been very eager for this all boys adventure.” Rhaenyra saw the silent exchange between the two and thought that pretending this was a scheduled event would help defuse the tension. “But I didn’t want you to feel left out, so I invited Helaena to come over and have a girls day with us. She’ll be here in an hour or so. Come on in and wait with me. I saved some breakfast treats for you.”

Harwin mouthed a thank you behind Y/N’s back. He knew it wasn’t easy for Rhaenyra to talk to Alicent, but the fact she had to, to get Helaena for the day was an immense act of kindness to him. If he wasn’t already, he would’ve fallen in love with her then and there.

“I’ll be back later today.” He squeezed Y/N’s hand for reassurance. “Maybe we’ll return with pizza.” One of the boys shouted in excitement with the mention of pizza.

Like a wounded puppy, Y/N slunk out of the car mumbling some agreement. The boys rushed past her to climb in the vehicle. Laenor gave her a farewell smile.

Rhaenyra’s house was large. It needed to be to accommodate her family. Her father gifted it to her when she married Laenor. Though the exterior gave off the assumption of wealth, the interior was warm and inviting like a family home ought to be. All the furniture was a shade of beige to hide unavoidable stains that came with multiple boys. Plush pillows added accents of color. Dogs circled Y/N with excitement. A cat was hiding from the chaos on a bookshelf.

The kitchen reflected the morning’s creations. Mixing bowls were stacked in the sink with syrup covered plates. There were spots of flour on the counter. They never hired a personal chef. Rhaenyra and Laenor enjoyed teaching the boys how to cook and care for themselves.

A spot at the counter was cleared off for Y/N. Rhaenyra brought out french toast to heat up. Fruit was cut and mixed into a bowl. Butter and whipped cream had their own dish. Rhaenyra served Y/N and she let her hunger push her manners aside.

Rhaenyra found the girl amusing. She’d always wanted a daughter. They thought Joffrey would be a girl, but they were wrong. Maybe Y/N was a chance to practice for the day she was blessed with a little girl. Maybe Y/N was as close as she’d get.

Y/N’s eyes shot up from her plate when she heard Rhaenyra’s interest. With a tender smile, Rhaenyra tucked piece’s of Y/N’s hair behind her ear like she’d seen Harwin do for her comfort. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your food. Especially without much mess. My boys would’ve launched berries at one another by now.”

Y/N giggled. A twinkle came back to her. “I like to eat my berries more than I enjoy throwing them.”

Rhaenyra burst into giggles of her own with the unexpected remark. “Then you’re welcome to eat as many berries as you like.”

“Thank you.” Y/N hummed while taking a bite of her food. Her feet swung beneath her as the stool was too high for her feet to touch the ground. “Harwin is an alright cook but he likes these nasty shakes and snack bars. He says they’re good for you because they’ve got a lot of protein, but I don’t believe him.”

“I don’t blame you. They are unappetizing.”

While Y/N finished her food, Rhaenyra had excused herself to the other room to cue up music and movies on the TV. The snack bin and fridge were restocked the night before and the boys were prohibited from touching them under penalty of no sweets for a week. Once finished, Y/N placed her plate in the sink and went to find Rhaenyra. Two rooms over, Rhaenyra was curled up on the couch without her slippers and a coffee mug in her hand. Y/N didn’t know what to expect but she took a seat on the opposite end.

“How are you feeling?” Rhaenyra asked with gentle concern.

“I’m.. I’m fine, thank you.” Y/N avoided direct eye contact, but would glance in Rhaenyra’s direction with worry.

“That’s good.” Rhaenyra nodded along though she knew better. “Your first period can be scary.”

Y/N jumped like Syrax the cat when she was startled. 

“I know you might feel betrayed by Harwin informing me, but he did so out of concern. It sounds like you were awfully upset last night and that’s no way to be over something natural. And since he couldn’t attest to what you’re going through, he trusted me to.” Rhaenyra didn’t try to invade the girl’s space but she kept her body language open if Y/N wanted personal contact.

“I didn’t know my body could do that. I thought I was hurt and, and,” She hiccuped. “And I didn’t want Harwin to be mad about the mess.”

“That mess isn’t one anyone would be mad at.” Rhaenyra reassured her. “It’s something that you can’t control when it happens, but you get better at guessing when it’ll start.”

“I don’t remember my mom having that kind of mess.” Y/N admitted in a barely audible mumble.

“Because us grown women have had practice and we’re good at containing it.”

“So this will happen again?”

“And again, every month for many years. Every woman goes through it. It’s something that bonds us together. I won’t lie to you. It is never enjoyable, but it becomes normal to you.”

“I don’t want this to happen again. What if it happens at school? What if someone sees?” Streams of tears formed down Y/N’s cheeks and she flung herself into Rhaenyra’s waiting lap.

Rhaenyra encircled the girl in her arms and kissed the top of her forehead. “That’s the thing about us girls, we look out for each other. You’ve got Helaena and she’d never let that happen to you. And you, you’d help her too. Wouldn’t you?”

Y/N nodded against Rhaenyra’s chest. “So you see. It will all be alright.” She rocked a bit, like she would with her boys when they skinned a knee or bruised an arm. “And I’ll be here to answer any questions you might have.”

“Thank you.” The gratitude was soft and high pitched. It showed off how young twelve truly was. It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall asleep against Rhaenyra’s chest. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and Rhaenyra was so safe and warm. Eventually Rhaenyra had to slip out of Y/N’s grasp. She made sure to slowly lower the girl back onto the cushion. The throw was placed over her peaceful sleep.

It’d taken Alicent longer than expected to drop Helaena off. Daeron was no older than Joffrey, but fussier. She hoped that meant he’d be a calmer adolescent as his brothers had been the opposite. Today, Aemond decided he didn’t like the face Aegon made. The children’s play room turned into a boxing arena. Viserys was of no help. Locked in his study. He insisted he needed to work on some project before taking the boys for the day. The nanny had the day off. But since Rhaenyra had been the one to ask for Helaena, he could make time for his sons. Any other day, if Alicent had asked, there’d be some excuse. She was bitter that it took Rhaenyra asking for Viserys to remember he had other children. All the same, she was happy to enjoy some time with just her girl.

Alicent had difficulty understanding Helaena. Her boys drove her to her wit's end, but she grasped why they were the way they were. They were young boys. Helaena though, she was not a typical young girl. She couldn’t stand going to the salon with Alicent. Something was always too loud or smelled too strong. At times, if the light was too bright it bothered her. She didn’t like her nails painted or someone cutting her hair. As a toddler she fought to escape the dresser’s chair. Rather than dresses with frills she preferred plain fabrics of the same texture. She loved the outdoors and anything that crawled. Her brothers were wild. Helaena just liked wild things. And she was smart, so smart. She knew what was going on around her at all times and comprehended her surroundings with the ability of someone twice her age.

The word Autism was brought up in early elementary school. Helaena was ahead of her peers academically, but she had difficulty interacting with them. She’d often cry in class for no apparent reason. Allicent vehemently rebuked any teacher who suggested something was wrong with her daughter. To Alicent, to admit she might be different was to admit she was defective. Helaena got better at controlling her reactions and regulating her behaviors. Masking, they called it. Still Alicent refused to accept they needed help. It wasn’t until Alicent noticed how Helaena plucked her eyelashes away and the bruising from pinching her arm that she finally relented. High functioning, that was the diagnosis. As an adult, Helaena would most likely blend in with everyone else, but she’d always struggle. There would always be something too loud, too bright, or taste wrong. However, now she had access to therapies and medications to help with her anxiety. Helaena could almost be normal.

Though she’d typically loathe the idea of time with Rhaenyra, Alicent saw how Helaena thrived with Y/N’s friendship. The girl could be quiet for Helaena’s sensitive ears. She also enjoyed being outside and tolerated Helaena’s interest in oddities. Y/N had the patience to listen while Helaena rambled on and on about her latest discovery. And because Y/N would go along with Helaena’s tendencies, Helaena in turn trusted Y/N when she suggested something outside her comfort zone. Maybe it was Y/N’s time spent with only her parents as company that made her more mature with other children. Alicent didn’t know anything beyond what she could see. What she could see was how Helaena’s lashes grew back and her actions grew bolder. For that, Alicent could view Y/N no less as a gift from the seven. She could even keep Aegon on a leash. Anyone who lightened her parenting load had Alicent’s favor.

So yes, she’d tolerate Rhaenyra if it meant bringing Y/N some comfort and Helaena time with her best friend. In a way, she projected herself onto Y/N. She lost her parents at the same age Alicent lost her mother. Like Alicent was, Y/N was surrounded by more male figures than female. Y/N presented more average female interests in comparison to Helaena. She’d let Alicent hug her. Y/N would even seek out a hug on occasion, though she was hesitant. Alicent was not her mother but the mother of her friend. Y/N was astute and kind as Alicent was as a girl. It was wrong, and she felt overwhelmed with guilt after, but on occasion she’d catch herself wishing Y/N was her daughter instead.

Rhaenyra greeted Alicent and Helaena at the door. With hushed breaths, she explained the details of the situation to Alicent. Alicent, in turn, was horrified for the girl and disapproving of Harwin. She held back her thoughts on the latter. She made a mental note to gently pull Y/N aside the next time she came over.

Helaena had made her way to Y/N off Rhaenyra’s instruction. She stood over her friend. Her head cocked to the side in the curiosity of her friend’s sleeping form. Silently, Helaena plopped down on the small space between Y/N and the couches end. This made Y/N stir.

“Helaena?” Y/N asked in her groggy haze.

“You sleep well. You don’t snore. Aegon and Daeron snore.” True to herself, Helaena was matter of fact as she tended to be.

“That’s good.” Y/N yawned and stretched. “We couldn’t share a room at sleepovers if I snored and kept you up.”

“No, we couldn't,” Helaena nodded her head in agreement. “My mom made me bring you one of my swimsuits. I hope I picked one you like.”

Helaena held up a blue and green striped one piece. Y/N took it and looked it over. How was she going to swim today? Wouldn’t she be like a squid with ink in the water. Helaena had told her of squids last week after watching an ocean documentary.

As if sensing her apprehension, Rhaenyra and Alicent appeared in the archway of the room. “You’ll be alright.” Rhaenyra reassured.

The girls spent the day swimming in the Targaryen-Valyrian pool. Y/N preferred this pool to Helaena’s. This pool had a diving board, slide, and sprinklers. Sometimes, Laenor and Harwin would bring out a net for pool volleyball. Rhaenyra engaged with the girls. Alicent tried, but at some point she found her way to a lounge chair to scroll on her phone. Helaena had a grand time sharing why mermaids couldn’t be real but lit up when Rhaenyra explained they could still pretend. The pool was adjacent to the guest house if they needed anything. Lunch was Doordahsed.

When they had their fill of the pool, Rhaenyra set up a movie for the girls. Though Helaena was adverse to most physical contact, she was content with Y/N’s weight against her on the couch. They settled on the Jungle Book. It had animals for Helaena and a plot for Y/N. They shared their snacks. Alicent and Rhaenyra respected each other’s distance. 

Neither realized how much time had passed till the boys appeared with a cacophony of boyish laughter. As promised, they brought pizza. Rhaenyra’s sons bypassed their mother at the sight of their aunt and Y/N. They had to tell them about their day. Helaena liked her nephews but could only tolerate them so much, but they were better at boundaries than her brothers so it appeared she liked them more. Alicent exchanged pleasantries with Laenor and Harwin. Sensing out of place, she called for Helaena claiming it was time to leave. Though Rhaenyra offered for them to stay, Alicent insisted that they had to get home to check on the boys. Helaena and Y/N whispered their secret goodbyes. Probably plotting when they could see each other again. Then Alicent and her daughter left. The remaining children missed the knowing glances the adults shared amongst themselves.

When it was time for bed, Rhaenyra insisted Y/N and Harwin spend the night. She had everything Y/N would need. Jace’s clothes, though for a boy, fit Y/N just fine to sleep in. The boys could make a fort on a bedroom floor and enjoy the night together. Once all the adolescents were asleep, the adults talked over glasses of wine.

“I don’t know how to explain it. Your girl must be magic.” Rhaerya pronounced as she took her seat next to Harwin. With the boys and Y/N asleep, they could be free with their affections.

“Must be.” Laenor agreed. He sat opposite the paramours. “How else could you explain Alicent being almost pleasant.”

“She’s a special girl.” Harwin mused before becoming a bit more melancholy. “I just hope I’m doing enough for her.”

Rhaenyra took Harwin’s hand in hers and made him lock eyes. “You may not be her father but you’re a great dad.”

“She’s thriving and she loves you.” Laenor reassured.

“I just see how much joy she gets being around Helaena, the boys, you, and then I think of moments like last night. When I wasn’t what she needed.” Harwin sighed and leaned back against the couch.

“You did your best.” Rhaenyra consoled.

“And actually, we’ve been thinking…” Laenor began which peaked Harwin’s interest. “Since Y/N is happy here, and since you’ve had less time for Rhae and the boys since assuming responsibility for her-”

In excitement, Rhaenyra cut in. “Move into the guest house! Like you said, Y/N has so much joy when here. The boys love her. We love her like one of our own. The boys love you, and I miss you.”

“It takes a village.” Laenor reasoned. “You wouldn’t be raising her alone anymore.”

“I, I don’t know what to say.” Harwin’s brows creased in consideration.

“Think it over.” Offered Rhaenyra. “There isn’t a deadline to the offer.”

Harwin and Y/N moved in by the end of the summer. The guest house was relatively the same size as the apartment. Y/N’s person wasn’t upheaved by a move. She’d spent most of her life moving. It was a tad strange. The arrangement. The adults explained it away to the children as they were all family and families lived together. The fact Harwin was their biological father was no secret. The explanation given when asked was Laenor couldn’t have children. That played at people’s hearts and ceased further questioning. However, to everyone but the three primary adults and uncle Qarl, Rhaenyra and Laenor were truly a married couple. In love and all. Oh how wrong they were.

Alicent always held her suspicions. Rhaenyra and Laenor moved to quick into marriage. They never expressed trying for children. Yet one day, Laenor couldn’t have kids, Rhaenyra was pregnant, and they used close family friend Harwin as the sperm donor. Viserys, Corlys and Rhaenys never questioned it. Then again, they never looked too hard into their children’s activities. Viserys would hear none of it any time Alicent tried to broach the conversation. She had no proof other than her perceived suspicions. 

That was, until Y/N came to Helaena crying one day.

….

No one who spent Yuletide with the Targaryens could say it was an uneventful experience. One would think the children were the root of all mischief, but really, it was the adults who couldn’t behave. Viserys wanted the family to spend the holiday together. Easier said than done. You had Alicent, her children, and on occasion her father. Then there was Rhaenyra, her children, Harwin, Y/N, and Leanor who brought Qarl, openly, for the last several years. Two-thirds of the Yule celebrations Y/N attended, Damon, Leana, and their daughters attended. If both Leanor and Leana were in attendance, then Rhaenys and Corlys were to be expected as well. That many adults with interwoven history kept things interesting.

There was the year Damon forgot how old his niece and nephews were. He bought each a preschool aged, drivable, electric dragon. Despite the older children being in their early teens, they enjoyed the gifts more than those of the intended age. The gathering room became their race track. Several holes in drywall, a busted floorboard, and one trip to urgent care later and the remaining dragons were locked in the garage.

Once Viserys called Alicent Aemma after one too many glasses of punch. Leana strengthened it hours prior, insisting this was not the children’s bowl. That made breakfast the next morning very awkward for everyone in the house. When it became clear that not only did Viserys not remember the slip up, but was oblivious to the tension, Aegon started an over under on how long it would take for Alicent to lose it. They made it to the Yule dinner.

The year of Rhaenyra and Leanor’s divorce was particularly awkward. Rhaenyra refused to speak to Alicent months prior. They hadn’t been in the same room since “the incident.” The children had to convince her to attend rather than host her own gathering. Rhaenyra spent the entire affair staring daggers into Alicent. Leanor, though not as volatile, didn’t do much to ease the tension. His idea of a petty come back was inviting Qarl. Alicent was uncomfortable with her guest’s lifestyle- as she called it. Harwin, bless him, tried but he also had zero tolerance for any disrespect towards his soon to be wife or family. That included Leanor and Qarl. Though Rhaenyra and Leanor’s marriage was founded partially out of fear of coming out to Corlys and Rhaenys, they’d taken things rather well. They were saddened that their son thought they’d ever reject him over something he had no control over. Screw outdated Faith of the Seven views on homosexuality. Leanor was their beloved son. Jace, Luke, and Joffery were as much Leanor’s as they were Harwin’s. Rhaenys and Corlys loved their grandchildren none the less, and neither had issue with reminding Alicent how she outed their son and nearly destroyed his family. Laena was worse, as she was fiercely protective of her brother. If she saw one of her nephews shed a single tear, no matter the cause, Alicent was to blame. Daemon lived for the drama and fanned the flames. Rhaenyra’s boys were in turmoil as their entire world just shifted. Aegon and Aemond used it as an insult whenever there was a disagreement. Y/N was stuck in a cycle of anger and timid guilt. She regretted she said anything to Helaena in the first place. She was mad at Alicent for not caring who she hurt on her never ending quest to defame Rhaenyra. She was mad at Rhaenyra and Harwin for putting her in the situation to begin with. She felt guilty every time the boys looked her way. Viserys was beside himself as there was no respite in fights to break up. He almost fainted when Rhaenyra and Leanor brought the divorce papers to Yule Night and used the gathering to throw a parting ceremony.

It was only tradition that the Yule of Y/N’s senior year was a disaster as well. The dining table was the battlefield. Words were weapons. Feelings were cannon fodder.

After gathering everyone’s attention, Viserys stood from his seat at the head of the table. “I’m very pleased to look around this room and see the faces of those whom I hold most dear. I’d like to propose a toast to you all. To my family. That despite our differences, we are all her together, as a family. As we’ll continue to be through the change-”

“Viserys.” Alicent warned, trying to pull him to sit. “Now’s not the time.” The latter pleaded, but not enough.

“Time for what, Mother?” Daeron, oh so young and innocent, asked.

“I would appreciate your sensitivity and support, my family, as Alicent and I begin the process of divorce.”

“Viserys.” Alicent seethed. She wasn’t ready for this but that damned punch struck again.

“Old friend, I don’t think-” Otto began.

“No, no, your thoughts are what ensnared my brother in this ruiness match to begin with.” Daemon spat at Otto. Neither liked the other, never had, never would.

“Now Deamon, she’s still the mother of four of my children-” Viserys began.

Damon tutted. Alicent nodded in agreement and held herself proudly.

Viserys’ protection withered when he saw the deathly stare Alicent shot at Daemon and the scowl of warning at Rhaenyra. “-Even if she chooses to bring another man into our marriage bed.”

“What?” Wide eyed, shocked and inflamed, Rhaenyra’s focus burned on Alicent.

“Oh don’t hang me for sins you yourself are guilty of.” She was rather quick to her own defense. She let her pride blind her to the fact children were still in the room. Her ire shifted to Viserys next. “And you, you’ve held a ghost in our marriage bed for the entirety of it!”

With the implication of her mother, Rhaenyra knocked her chair over as she flew to make Alicent regret her declaration. Luckily, Harwin caught her. A cacophony of insults followed from all directions.

Calmly and with a glimmer of amusement, Rhaenys turned to the older children nearest to her. “Take the younger ones to the playroom please.”

Jace grabbed Joffrey and Luke followed. Aemond picked up Daeron. Aegon, Helaena, Baela, Rhaena, and Y/N followed behind the rest. It was Helaena’s idea to set up the Nintendo games for the younger boys. Joffrey and Daeron were the same age and easily distracted that way. Luke, rather than follow the elder lot, volunteered to remain with the two youngest. Playing Mario Kart interested him more than the destined debrief.

Aegon looked to Aemond and Y/N, it wasn’t a suggestion but an invite. Aegon was going to drink no matter what. Aemond had no objections considering the pandemonium of it all. Y/N was thinking the same thing. Even Helaena was ready to numb herself. Baela and Rhaena were in unfamiliar territory and had no objections. Jace, well he wasn’t sure what the others silently agreed to, but he followed.

While in the doorframe to the upstairs den, Jace was stopped. Aegon held a hand to his chest. “Uh, uh, uh this is reserved for those who can hang. You… cannot.”

Jace inhaled like a bull ready to charge. Fuses were short all around.

Y/N knocked past Aegon and let Jace in. “Don’t be a twat.”

“Is it or is it not my parents who are this Yule’s shit show? If anyone can be a twat, I can. And…” Aegon turned back to Jace with a malicious grin. “One drink in and he’ll be running to hide in his mummy’s skirts.”

“Do us all a favor and go skydiving off the roof you wastril cunt.” Jace would’ve taken a swing, much like his mother, if he wasn’t being held back.

“That’s enough.” Y/N’s voice boomed over both the boys. She was holding Jace back. Helaena didn’t know how to act. Aemond, much like his uncle downstairs, was finding the scene in front of him very amusing. Baela and Rhaena simply observed, eyeing each other with their own secret language.

“Jace,” Y/N’s voice sweetened. “Can you please get me one of the hard seltzers from behind the bar, in the small fridge?”

“Ugh,” Aegon rolled his eyes. He’d already swiped a bottle of wine. As Jace made his way to the bar, Aegon made his way to a leather sofa. “Gods forbid we exclude one of your devotees.”

“What?” Y/N spun to Aegon in hardened confusion.

“Oh don’t play naive. We all see the way he looks at you. His eyes are glued to your ass like a starved dog follows a meat truck. You say jump and he asks how high.”

Aemond was leaning forward against the back of the couch, behind Aegon. It’s how Aegon was able to hear Aemond’s small huff of amusement. Already in the mindset to destroy everything around him, Aegon went in on his brother next.

“Like you’re any better.” He shifted to look up at Aemond who was now scowling. “You blow a load anytime she breathes in your direction.”

Aemond wound up to deck his brother but Aegon rolled to the floor to avoid the punch. His laughter was borderline maniacal.

It was Helaena’s even voice that halted the ongoing spiral. “That’s not true.”

Her words were adamant. Everyone cocked their heads at Helaena’s interjection. “Neither like Y/N. She’s like a sister.”

Looks were exchanged. The boys in the room would think the declaration was one of sarcasm if it hadn’t come from Helaena. In Helaena’s world, it was obvious that everyone viewed Y/N like a sister, like she did. Or at least, that’s all she showed knowledge of. They’d known each other for seven years now. Y/N lived with Jace and his family. Everyone was uncle or aunt to Y/N. What Helaena didn’t realize was Y/N wasn’t blood with any of them. She was a consistent presence. They were hormonal teenagers. She was a shame free focus of affection.

Y/N observed each and everyone of them searching for anything she could use to continue her intensional delusion. None of them had feelings for her. They were all friends. Kind, devoted, affectionate friends.

An uneasy truce settled over the room. Helaena was an adamant person and no one was in the mood to go up against that brick wall tonight. So slowly, those without drinks slinked to get one. Guards were still up regardless.

At least two hours passed. It was enough time for each of the older children to go through four to six drinks each. With ease they dismissed one of the youngest when they came to make an inquiry. Not one in the elder group bothered to hear the question. That caused a problem when the youngest made their way downstairs to inquire about something to eat. The adults, exhausted and nursing their own drinks, were confused. Certainly the older children could’ve gone down to the kitchen to scrounge something up for the lot. Where were they? They were where? Doing what?

In their bacchanalia, the older seven did not recognize the storm of footsteps marching their way. Alicent blew down the door like a twister. Rhaenyra was on her heels. Soon a disgruntled Viserys was next to enter. A disapproving audience of Corlys, Rhaenys, Leana, and Harwin lined the halls. Daemon and Leanor had the good sense to know the circus would round back to the center tent. Harwin only went to keep his wife from ending up in the back of a city watch cab.

None of the older children could clearly make out what was being shouted at them. They were intoxicated and there were too many voices echoing off their disappointment. Aegon and Alicent were the first out of the room. She dragged her oldest out by the collar of his shirt. In contrast, a gentle hand guided Helaena to follow. Viserys shuffled Aemond forward. Leana came in and collected her daughters with a firm hand on either’s shoulder. Rhaenyra was last to guide her son and ward out. She was fuming like a dragon with smoke, but her guidance was just. The events of the night left everyone wanting a reprieve. She was disappointed in how her children sought it. 

It was agreed upon that Corlys and Rhaenys would accompany the younger children to the kitchens and distract them from the additional chaos to follow. Those being reprimanded were lined across the main room’s couches. Rhaena and Baela were off to the side. They’d face the least amount of punishment. Leana was a constructive parent, preferring to explain than admonish. Daemon wasn’t too concerned. He was doing worse at sixteen. Jace couldn’t make eye contact with a soul in the room. Aemond’s gaze firmly fixed to a very interesting speck on the wall. Helaena watched the room unafraid. Y/N and Aegon stole glances at one another.

“Deplorable.” Viserys began. “Delinquent, and unbecoming behavior from the lot of you! You see the strife your family is in and decide that’s the opportune moment to turn into tipplers?”

“Seems like the opportune moment to me.” Aegon muttered under his breath.

Viserys strode towards his eldest son. “What was that boy?”

Y/N turned her full attention to Aegon. His eyes were hardened and glaring between his mother and father. Y/N tried to bore her gaze into his mind, willing him to shut up before he made things worse. It didn’t work.

“I said, it seems like the opportune moment to me.” Aegon replied defiantly.

Alicent scoffed. She flanked Viserys to scold her son. “So you lead this debauchery? Is it not enough that you torment us with your frivolity and recklessness at university? You flitter about with no care, no decorum, no decency-”

Aegon roared and in a flash was off the couch in his mother’s face which caught everyone by surprise. Never had he stood up to her admonishments. “You of all people have no right to lecture me about decency!”

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra made a move to step in. She hadn’t turned oblivious over the past couple of years. She noticed Aegon began spending more and more time at her house rather than his own. At first she thought he and Y/N were hiding something, but then Y/N got a boyfriend and Aegon often made his way over even when Y/N was out.

“Mind your tongue to your mother.” Enmity welled in Alicent’s eyes. Her lips quivered in anger, fists clenching and unclenching by her sides.

“And when did you earn this deference, mother? Was somewhere between my audacity to question why your gym trainer was in your bedroom, and when you threatened to ship me off to the citadel when I refused to go with you to the sept to pray away our shared sins.”

Gasps filled the room. Those who hadn’t had questioning brows were in desperate need for their drink. Leaning into the attention, Aegon outstretched his arms and addressed the room. “Yes my dear family. My mother’s personal trainer, Christon Cole, puts the personal in personal trainer. In fact, he’s so devoted that he’s been bedding her for over a year now!”

Aegon strode back to his mother, eye to eye, a breath apart. “And she threatened that not only would no one believe me if I told, but that she’d see to it that I ended up at the wall. Isn’t that right, mother.”

The sharp clap of palm meeting skin rang throughout the room. Alicent’s breathing was labored by the crushing weight of Aegon’s admissions.

Aegon held his cheek in his hand. Tears collected in his eyes. His head had been thrown to the side, but he looked up at his mother with animosity that rivaled tenured enemies. Otto pulled Alicent away from her son. He was shushing her, insisting she calmed down. Viserys looked defeated. Everyone was mimicking the math in his mind. It had been a year. A year and Aegon knew. Aegon knew but didn’t tell his father. Aegon knew and didn’t tell his father because his mother threatened to have him banished and the closest to incarcerated you could get with or without committing an offense.

Rhaenyra looked to Leanor to speak for her as she was too dumbfounded by the turn of events to find her voice. “It’s best this discussion continues in the morning when cooler heads can prevail. You’re all dismissed to your rooms. If any of you dare further the troublesome actions of the night, the consequences will be severe.”

Other than Aegon, the others scrambled to leave the hostile environment. The sequestering was a delight by this point. Aegon trailed behind, slowly, letting his blazing scrutiny be known throughout the room. After feeling his hatred was known, he relented and crept away to the safety of his room.

...

Helaena hadn’t felt like talking. Y/N made it clear she could. Her home life had sunk into a deeper ring of the seven hells tonight. Y/N would stay and hold her and listen if that’s what she wanted. It wasn’t. Like a sponge, Helaena absorbed the emotions from the room and it exhausted her. She just wanted to sleep. So without much fuss, she collapsed into the safety of her bed to block out the world if only for a handful of hours. Y/N took the opportunity to truly prepare for bed.

Down another corridor Aegon too had thrown himself upon his bed. Though the air was chilly, he turned on his ceiling fan. The repetitive circle and white noise worked to dry his tears and release his stored adrenaline. He hadn’t spoken a word since climbing the stares. What did he have to say? Nothing he wanted to relive at the moment. Though he had a suspicion someone would make their way to his room to try.

The door opened and closed swiftly but quietly. Aegon didn’t look up to greet the intruder, but a smug grin slightly quirked his lips. “Was wondering how long it’d take.”

“And who did you expect, brother?” Aegon shot up from his reclining position to find Aemond at the foot of his bed. His arms were folded, button down sleeves rolled up, the creep hadn’t bothered to change in the time they were dismissed. He remained as composed as he thought it was intimidating.

“Get out.” He commended immediately.

“T’was quite the spectacle of an evening.” Aemond clearly had no intention of heeding his brother's words. “Don’t you think?”

“I said get out.” He sheathed. “I thought you just a twat, not a deaf twat.”

Aemond hummed. It was his response before his response. Just enough noise to fill the silence and prolong the time to gather his thoughts. He walked around the room, observing the state of things. He ran a finger over an unread book, then the laptop nearby, using the touch to his brother’s possessions to rile him up further.

“I didn’t appreciate your pettiness earlier.” Aemond announced, hands clasped behind his back.

Aegon scoffed. “Always mama’s little-”

“I’m not talking about Mother.”

“What in the seven hells are you on about then?”

Aemond stood silent, wanting his brother to catch on and admit he wanted to embarrass him in front of Y/N. Aemond wanted to wound Aegon with the understanding that Y/N wanted him less than anyone else. Irritated, Aegon either refused or was too daft to follow.

“Y/N.” Aemond clarified with a proud raise of his chin.

“Y/N?” Aegon asked in humored disbelief. “All the lunacy affairs of the evening and that’s the one you’re hung up on? Really brother? We all knew you carried a torch for her, but I didn’t know you were this down bad over some snatch.”

Aemond’s eyes inflamed with malice. The disregard in which Aegon spoke made him see red. “Do not speak of her in that way.”

“Please, you want to mount and ride her just as much as our gangly nephew. You idiots follow her around hoping one day she’ll attest your devotion was proof enough and let you fuck her stupid. Guess what, never gonna happen. She’ll continue to string you along with crumbs of affection like the pair of fools you are. She doesn’t want you. She never has and never will.”

Aemond was biting his cheek to remain composed. Gods, he fucking hated his cunt of a brother. If he was on fire, the world had to burn with him.

“And you’re nothing but her plug for an occasional high. She hates you.” Venom dripped from Aemond’s words. “Loathes you even when you’re good for that one thing. You taunt me because you know I have a chance when you could fuck everything with a pulse in a fifty mile radius, be the last man alive in Westeros, and she’ll remain the one girl you could never touch.”

“Oh brother,” Aegon stood and rounded the bed to stand face to face with Aemond; much like he had early with his mother. “For that I’m going to make her scream my name while you watch.”

...

Alicent passed back and forth in front of the fireplace biting her thumbnail. She lost her composure, she knew that. She knew she was wrong to have slapped Aegon. She was wrong for making him keep her affair secret. Viserys was right to threaten to take the children away. If she’d slap Aegon, who’s to say what she’d do when her other children brought her to anger. She sent her father away long ago. His presence only further incensed her anxiety.

By now, almost everyone was in bed or preparing to be so. Alicent couldn’t walk past their doors knowing the judgment that radiated behind them. Her pride and regret were at war with one another. The crackle of the fire drew her attention. She became lost in the flames. Fire and Blood were the words of the house she married into. Maybe that explained why she spent over half her marriage with her own blood boiling. This was the tipping point.

“You should try and rest.” A level voice spoke from the archway of the hallway leading to the stairs. “You’ll need all your faculties for the morning’s conversations.”

Alicent’s relaxed curls draped over her shoulder as she went to address the speaker. Rhaenyra.

“Please don’t wear the facade of worry. It’s unbecoming of you.” Alicent’s tongue hadn’t dulled. Here was an external target after her inward massacre.

“I worry for my half-siblings. They’re blameless in this.” She took steps to further herself into the room. “It hurts. Doesn’t it?” Rhaenyra cocked her head in rhetorical questioning. “Having your intimate life gutted and displayed for vultures to feast on.”

“The irony isn’t lost on me.” Alicent dismissively waved Rhaenyra away.

“And yet we live through this cliche. The pious turned sinner. The righteous banner fallen to the flames of indulgences.” Rhaenyra couldn’t help but let a little bit of satisfaction drip into her words.

Alicent’s arms were folded protectively over her one another, hiding her chest and how it heaved. “Where have you been all this time, hm? Playing house with your lovers and your father’s money. You ran from one flight of fancy to another. Fleeing duty, while the rest of us were left to carry on the burdens of your family name.”

“You chose this Alicent!” Rhaenyra retorted exasperated. “You chose. Your choice. Am I supposed to thank you for your election to marry Viserys and become queen of country club society?”

“You and your uncle, so quick to flee from the duty your name holds. Who else was left to hold up tradition and respectability.”

“Some traditions are best left in the past, Alicent! Look how the burden of them has destroyed you and your children!”

“And what do you know of my children?”

“I have eyes Alicent. Aegon carries the weight of all your regrets to the point where he withdraws into vice just to feel something other than the crushing knowledge that all his mother’s dreams died with him. Helaena is only as functioning as she is because the seven blessed us with Y/N. Do you really think she’s so quiet, or did you notice that she spends half her nights at our house rather than yours?”

“Stop it!” Alicent shouted the command but it settled as more of a plea with her hands over her ears.

“Aemond harms himself in the desperate search for a scrap of attention. All those achievements… he pushes himself to extremes in the hope that this next accomplishment will be the one that gets you to see him. And Daeron, well his Ipad has been his parent for some time now. My father isn’t blameless, but godsdamn Alicent I never thought you were one to give up.”

“I tried!” Alicent’s voice was stretched and scratchy with the strain of the day. “So damn hard that it broke me and I didn’t even want any of this!”

Taken aback, Rhaenyra studied the splintered woman in front of her. “Then why do any of it?”

“Because I thought I was doing what was right.” She sobbed out, finally letting her blood boil over into tears that had for long run dry. “I was doing what I was taught was right by the faith. Push want aside for honor. My father thought it was the right choice. My only choice.”

A breath two decades withheld deflated from Rhaenyra’s lungs. “Oh Alicent.”

…

Y/N spent her shower sobering a bit and replaying the night’s incidents. Another marriage who’s nail in the coffin was a child catching the act of infidelity. She was the only one in the house who could understand that perceived guilt. She felt empathy for Aegon and horror at his abuse. It was no surprise that her limbs acted on one accord with her emotions. She was carried to his door. Just outside of it she heard rumbling, a crash, and a string of cuss words. Everyone on this side of the house must have taken their Ambien tonight, as she was the only one concerned.

She dashed into the room not knowing what to expect, but certainly not expecting the scene in front of her. Aemond had Aegon by the throat on the floor. His knee was pinning Aegon’s legs down to avoid any kick up. Aegon was doing his best to swing at his brother’s jaw and scratch at his hands. Since Aemond’s growth spurt he’d had the upper hand as he’d always been the better fighter of the two.

“What in the seven hells?” Y/N rushed over to Aemond and hooked her arms under his and tried to pull him up. He heard her but he’d yet to process her presence or words. His reasoning was glazed over by the malice he felt. “Get off of him.”

Locking in like she was the anchor in a game of tug-of-war, Y/N heaved again. It was enough of a reprieve of pressure for Aegon to free his legs and bring a knee to Aemond’s gut. Aemond relinquished his hold on his brother’s throat and it sent him and Y/N spilling backwards. Luckily Y/N landed without much airtime as she was already low to the ground. She landed on her bottom with Aemond splayed over her lap. His hair fanned her like a blanket.

The sounds of labored breathing filled the room for the duration it took the shock to wear off. Y/N didn’t dare move with a recently volatile Aemond on her. Aemond’s limbs felt the ache of adrenaline and he didn’t care to move. Aegon rubbed the tender skin of his neck. He was the first to climb to his feet. He took a cold soda from the mini fridge next to his bed and held it to his neck. Watching him care for his injury persuaded Y/N to take action. With gentleness, she slid Aemond off her lap and onto the cool floor beneath her. 

She approached Aegon with worried care. Aegon allowed her to lift the soda can up to investigate his injuries. Y/N’s back was to Aemond, but he didn’t need to see her front to know her expression was one of concerned care. He could see it in the way Aegon’s creases softened. He knew it in the way Aegon allowed her in his proximity. Aegon was a bloody fool. He spent so long torturing Aemond and Jace over their affection for Y/N. It distracted him from the longing he felt for her. It was evident in the way he sought comfort in her touch.

Aemond straightened himself into a seated position before he spoke. His arms wrapped around his criss-crossed legs to give himself some comfort. His voice was as small as he could make it. “Why are you helping him?”

Y/N didn’t take her eyes off Aegon. She was guiding him to sit on the bed while she remained staning, holding the soda can. “Because he’s hurt.” She answered as it was obvious to her.

“No,” Aemond cleared his throat and spoke a bit louder. “Why are you here? You hate him.”

Y/N deadpanned and turned her disapproving gaze to Aemond. “I can have my disagreements with someone and still care for them when I know they’re hurting.”

Aegon sucked his teeth and released into a cocky smile like he had as a child. Due to her turn, Y/N couldn’t see Aegon’s face. It was reminiscent of the shit eating grins he’d wear when standing behind one of their parents on the rare occasion he wasn’t the one being scolded. Aegon didn’t need to speak for his previous words to repeat in Aemond’s mind. The childish expression was enough.

“Do you know what he said about you?” Aemond’s jaw hardened, teeth ground in irritation at his brother’s perceived upperhand. He wanted to hurt Aegon. If he couldn’t physically, then emotionally. Even if it scorched Y/N.

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion. Was this fight not over their mother and father? “What do you mean?”

Aemond stood at this and strode towards Y/N. He looked down upon her. There was a storm raging in him. “You stand here nursing his wounds but do you know what he says behind your back?”

All enjoyment evaporated from Aegon. “Aemond.” He warned, voice hoarse. Y/N’s attention went from one brother to another and back.

“You’re to be mounted and rode. He’d fuck you infront of me to prove a point.” Aemond continued as Y/N’s eyes widened at the crassness of it all. “And that was only tonight. To others, you’re the snatch on the side for when he’s finally bored enough to let you get it wet.”

Y/N’s eyes watered. She didn’t want to believe it. Aemond grasped hold of her chin and turned her neck to land her waterworks on Aegon. He wanted her to see the man she was doting on. See the real Aegon. In turn, Aegon had the good sense to advert his focus in shame at his words. He itched with regret over his loose lips. He never thought Y/N would hear his words and he didn’t even know why he said them. It was the rise from others, the attention, and the satisfaction he received from it that fueled his disgusting claims.

Y/N knew Aegon’s tells as well as Aemonds. He never made eye contact when caught in something shameful. Regrettably, she adopted the Targaryen tendency to make the world burn with her when hurt.

“Your jollies come from defacing the few who foolishly show you some affection. You’re pathetic.” Y/N spat. The soda can fell to Aegon’s lap.

Aegon’s sight focused on her pleadingly. “Y/N.”

“No.” She held up her hand to stop him from going further. “No more excuses. No more apologies. You want to talk like fleabottom trash, then be it too. Don’t call me when you’re drunk and crying. Don’t text and ask me to drive an hour to pick you up from whatever university bar you’re puking in. In fact, do me a favor and choke on your vomit next time. Maybe that will finally shut your foul mouth.”

Aemond snickered and it drew Y/N to turn on him. “And you, fuck you for being so bitter that you’d break me to watch him bleed.”

Aemond stumbled back as she pushed him out of her way. He allowed it in his shock. He hadn’t thought his admissions would be turned back on him. He hoped they’d make her seek him out in comfort.

“You both can kill each other for all I care.” Y/N stormed out of the room. Tears fell from her eyes with every step and she tried to dry them. The door slammed at her exit and it startled both brothers, making them plummet into the mess they’d made.

Next Chapter

[sleepykichii33]

cw: implied character death

When Kokichi got a call from the hospital, he already knew there was something wrong. It was a gut feeling, really.

Although the killing game was a simulation, some things seeped into reality. For example, Kokichi dealt with joint pain and a bit of abnormal fatigue, as well as other things. Kaito’s illness in the game was fictional, but it was one of the things that crept its way into the real world. Into Kaito. And due to being fake, made-up, there was no cure.

At first, he didn’t have any symptoms. He felt perfectly fine. Or, well, as fine as anyone could’ve been after what they’d all been through. Eventually, though, he started coughing a lot. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought that it was just a cold until the coughing also came with splatters of blood. Then it came with sore throats. Then fatigue. And after a few months, he’d been coughing up a concerning amount of blood almost all the time.

It wasn’t a surprise that he hid it this time as well, but it didn’t take long for the others to find out. Mainly Shuichi, Maki, and Kokichi. They were around Kaito the most, and they were one of the few that knew about his illness in the game.

No one took it well. Shuichi was frantically researching, trying to find any sort of cure for the illness, even though the doctors had already stated that there was no cure. He didn’t listen. Maki, on the other hand, stayed with Kaito whenever she could. She rarely spoke to anyone else other than Shuichi and occasionally Kaede.

Kokichi never left Kaito’s side. The only time he wasn’t in the man’s room was when the nurses quite literally kicked him out, or Maki came to visit. Ever since the killing game, the two had been attached at the hip. Everyone else didn’t really know why, but some suspected it was most likely because of what happened in the hangar. It was some sort of bonding moment, they assumed. 

Even though they hadn’t been close for long, the news hit Kokichi like an absolute trainwreck. He didn’t show much of it, Kaito only saw glimpses of the real him and his true emotions behind that facade of his. He remembered how Kokichi reacted to the news, tears forming in his eyes before disappearing almost immediately after they had appeared.

Kaito knew that today was his last day. He knew the inevitable was just around the corner. He’d already had a conversation with the rest of the crew, Shuichi and Maki having just recently left the room when he’d informed the nurse to call Kokichi. The woman gave no detail, the former astronaut made sure of that. All she said was that Kaito wanted to see him. He didn’t know why, but he found himself feeling anxious while he waited for Ouma to arrive. He purposefully talked to everyone else before the violette. He didn’t know how the latter was going to handle the situation.

---

Ouma was quick to arrive at the hospital, not wasting any time to get to Momota’s room. Opening the door, he huffed out a heavy breath before he walked inside. The same old facade was evident by the look on his face. A forced smile, nonchalant movements as he waved to Kaito, who’d been sitting up on his hospital bed with an unreadable expression on his face. God, how Kokichi missed the old happy looks he’d seen all the time

“Hey, space-man! What’d ya need me for?” Ouma said, and although he had a casual tone, he couldn’t shake away the overwhelming amount of anxiety gripping to his bones.

“I, uh. I wanted to talk to you, ‘Kichi.” Momota replied, and unlike Kokichi, he didn’t hide the troubled emotion he’d been feeling. This was a really difficult conversation. Having to tell someone you cared about so much that today was your last day. Someone you loved. Kaito didn’t want to admit his feelings to himself for the longest time. Admit that he was in love with someone he used to swear he hated.

“Oooooh, what is it? Is it something exciting?”

“Sit down, will ya? This is serious.” Kaito murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. It was a common habit of his, one that gave away the fact that he’d been anxious.

Kokichi, undoubtedly noticing, did as he was told and sat down in the chair beside Kaito’s bed. He tapped his foot on the floor, but whether or not it was out of distress was unknown.

“Well? Spit it out, don’t keep me waiting!” He huffed, an impatient tone lacing his voice. Kaito couldn’t figure out if he was just annoyed, or if he was feeling.. Nervous?

A few moments passed by, and Momota was experiencing the same thing as before. Anxiety. Taking a shaky breath, he ran a hand through his hair. God, why was this so difficult? He was still the same Kaito as he was in the game. Luminary Of The Stars, damnit! This shouldn’t be even harder than the conversation with Shuichi and Maki. So why is it?

“Today’s my last day,” Kaito started, gulping before he hesitantly continued. “I’ve already told everyone else. I, uh, wanted to tell you last.” 

Kokichi didn’t reply at first, a blank expression on his face. The latter took this as an opportunity to keep talking.

“I don’t know why I wanted to. I just thought.. I thought it’d be the best idea, I guess?” Kaito paused, his eyebrows knitting together. “C’mon, ‘Kichi. Say something.”

He hated the silence. How Kokichi just continued to blankly stare at him with no trace of emotion on his face. What was going through his head? The violette was always so hard to read, but that look made it so much more difficult.

“Right. You’re dying.” Kokichi started, clearing his throat as he looked up at the ceiling. It was getting harder to hide how he was truly feeling, both because of how strong his current emotions were and the fact that it’d already been more difficult to keep up his facade around Kaito ever since the game. “I guess I forgot about that.”

“I.. I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. Kokichi didn’t know what he was going to do. He’d never admit it, but he’d grown attached to Kaito. So much that he couldn’t imagine not constantly being around the man. Even just the thought of Momota dying made Ouma’s eyes well up with tears.

“No, no it’s not. C’mere.” Kaito spoke softly, holding his arms out for Kokichi, gesturing for the latter to come sit on his bed.

Kokichi didn’t deny the offer. How could he? Quickly getting up from his chair, he made his way over to the bed and sat down on it. Ouma wrapped his arms tightly around Momota, although he was mindful of the fact that the former astronaut’s body was weak. Kaito returned the favor, his arms slowly snaking around Kokichi’s back.

“In another life, yeah?”

“Yeah. Another life.”

[toreadorcaretaker]

ventrue whump where they’re forced to feed on rats send ask

I went absolutely wild over this and made it really sad and disgusting. Thank you for giving me good emetophobia exposure lmaoooo | Image Sources: One | Two

Summary: After the Primogen seize control of LA, their Ventrue representative tortures LaCroix for disgracing the clan. He is force-fed poison in the form of rats. But an unexpected friend is on the way to help...

TW: vomiting, fever, starvation, forced to live in dirty conditions

It wasn’t enough to depose Sebastian LaCroix.

It wasn’t enough to see him executed through the proper channels, on his knees and begging for his life until the very last.

No, the Ventrue Primogen took Sebastian’s offenses a little more personally, as a fellow clan member. And of course, Strauss obliged in letting him handle LaCroix himself.

LaCroix was dragged into a dungeon in the sewers, just before dawn on the night the scarcophagus was taken from him. The night he lost everything. It was a bit of a blur after that, probably because he was trying to block out the memories of how he’d pleaded and fought, of trying to stand and being kicked down again, and again, and again... But he did remember a great deal of talk about how he had “disgraced us all” and how every shred of his own dignitas would be stripped from him in turn. It was restrained enough, in its way. No prolonged torture. Just the cell door closing above him with a rattle of keys. There was no reason the execution had to be anytime soon, the Primogen had informed him. He had plenty of time to rot down here.

At first, there was time to rage, to cry, to plot revenge. But after a few weeks, desperation took hold in earnest. He was in so much pain he could hardly think. His veins ached from the inside out with growing hunger.

But it always could (and would) be worse.

One day, there were clicking boots down the corridor. Idle, lighthearted, accompanied by joyful humming.

And there was a faint squeaking. No. He couldn’t be bringing…

A rat. An enormous, filthy, foul-smelling rat appeared around the corner, clutched in one gloved hand. Sebastian’s captor appeared next, grinning wickedly. They stared at each other for a long moment before he swallowed and forced himself to speak. “What is…you don’t mean…”

“Oh yes. Dinner is served.” He held the deplorable thing through the bars, wriggling and squeaking, and didn’t move a muscle. Sebastian just recoiled from it.

“Twenty-three days you’ve left me down here, and the first word out of your mouth is an unamusing joke. Lovely. Now bring me something that’s not poison.” The thought of being expected to eat that thing was already making him nauseous.

The Primogen just kept up with that maddeningly smug expression. “Traitorous rats get what they deserve. You are what you eat, after all.” He dropped the rat onto the dusty cell floor, where it scrambled away through the bars, seizing the freedom that Sebastian was denied. “Not hungry? Pity. You’ll look so gaunt at your execution.” He began to turn away.

“Come back at once!” LaCroix shouted after him, his voice rising in volume to follow the man down the corridor. “You want to talk to me about disgracing us? This is completely unbecoming! To play with a former Prince this way, like it’s some idle game to you! Torturing a political prisoner without due process! Your own sadism has run away with you! Can you possibly understand what I've done for this city? This is the behavior of the Sabbat! A SABBAT! Do you hear me!?” There was no answer. Sebastian let out a wordless noise of frustration, somewhere between a grunt and a scream. He sunk to the floor, and was mortified to find himself wishing he’d made a grab for that rat before it could skitter away.

The worst part was that the Primogen had been right. He would look gaunt at his execution. Absolutely ravaged, in fact. His beautiful suit was absolutely destroyed – coated in dirt and torn from being thrown against the rocky ground. His hair hadn’t been combed in weeks. And he could feel the cracks in his bloodless lips, could feel his veins collapsing on themselves. He was so thirsty, so hungry… he’d already gone days without a proper meal before everything unraveled. He’d been too preoccupied, pacing all day and night with nervous energy, sensing the oncoming storm but powerless to prevent it. And now, the hunger was so intense it deepened the cold in his bones and resonated against chilled, damp draft from some vent system up above. The former Prince clutched at his own arms and shivered. He’d never felt more like a corpse.

The next feeding time, just twenty-four hours later, wore out his patience. At the presence of a heartbeat, any heartbeat, his instincts took over and he snatched the rat right out of the Primogen’s hand, sinking into it like a drumstick and gnawing furiously.

The taste was absolutely rank. It shocked him so much that he remembered himself and managed to drop it, stumbling backward away from its hideous scent and setting his jaw tight in an effort not to give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing him vomit. But it seemed he didn’t want to leave until he’d seen a show. He laughed uproariously and bent down to stare at LaCroix where he’d doubled over on the floor. “Dear me, is it not edible to you? Poor thing. Unfortunately, you no longer deserve food.”

Sebastian shuddered but held his ground. Breathe. Breathe. Don’t be sick. Think of nice things. His warm bed up in the penthouse. A fresh Marlboro just before sunrise. The Primogen’s head on a pike.

The Primogen tsked in annoyance and finally walked away. Sebastian exhaled in relief but had to hold his breath again immediately to keep from retching.

If the blood did him any good, he couldn’t tell. The nausea eventually faded, but his stomach hurt terribly, and his body broke out in fever. He spent the night pulling his coat closer around himself and cursing the mistake. If anything, he seemed to be worse off.

The second time, he couldn’t keep it down. Again, his body acted without permission, overtaken with frenzy at the sight of food, and seized the rat at once. But, further weakened this time, he vomited immediately, clinging to the bars for support. Tears of effort and humiliation coated his face. He couldn’t look at the Primogen and kept gazing into the far corner until the bastard was done gloating and left.

It was difficult to say how many times this happened. The Primogen must have decided this was an enjoyable game, because he played it nightly. It was always the same. He’d hold out the rat, Sebastian would take it, and he’d suffer the consequences, whether or not he kept the blood down. He could feel the poison working against his body. He no longer paced around the cell, merely huddled in a corner, too weak to move. The poison of the Primogen’s words worked on him too. He had disgraced the Ventrue name, hadn’t he? He had failed. He deserved this, much as he may curse the man for giving him exactly what he deserved. If he’d only fought harder, gotten to the sarcophagus faster… he tried to push these thoughts away over and over, but they always came back. He couldn’t last long this way – soon enough, torpor would take hold. It would probably be a mercy.

Sebastian had come to expect sickness whenever footsteps descended the stairs. So, when he heard a slightly different gait one night, it took a moment to register.

Once the familiar wave of dread wore off, he realized these sounded like heavy combat boots. “Who’s there?” Instantly wary, he struggled to his feet but just swooned back against the wall again, trembling from the effort. He glanced around the cell, realizing what an absolute mess it was, the dirt floor covered in rejected blood. His clothes were no better. Damn it all. They were probably coming to take him to his final death, and in this state too…

It was, in fact, the only possible visitor worse than that. A white T-shirt and jeans and an ugly denim button down hanging open. Grizzly muscle and a shit haircut and cheekbones too chiseled for marble. Nines Rodriguez.

He took a long look at LaCroix and whistled. “Jesus…Fuckin’ Camarilla. What did they do to you?”

Sebastian answered his pity with a glare. “I ca – “ his voice rasped almost enough to make him inaudible and he had to try again. If there had been any blood left in his body, he would have blushed furiously. Why couldn’t Nines be trying to behead him instead of staring directly at the red stains on his collar? “…I can’t imagine what concern of yours that might be. What…how can you be here of all places? Have they already sunk so low as to ally with the Anarchs?”

Thankfully, Nines demanded no further information. “Gettin’ weapons.” He pulled out the ring of keys the Primogen had carried. Sebastian noticed it was dripping with blood. “You’re ‘weapons.’”

“Pardon me?”

“You want to put Strauss through the Venture company paper shredder for whatever happened here? The rest of ‘em too? Well, let’s do it. Common enemies and all that. Don’t worry, I’ll still kill you after.” The door swung open. Open. The door was open. But Sebastian couldn’t move. He opened and closed his mouth, wondering how precisely to convey to Nines that he couldn’t walk at present without dispelling the illusion of his own usefulness.

Nines swore again. “They really did a number on you.”

Sebastian bristled. There was absolutely no need to dwell on that. “What, do you think you’d look any better if you were in my place?”

“No, I just – look, shut it for a second, I’m just trying to think what to do. Wish I’d brought blood bags, but they’re back at the base. I didn’t think it would be this bad, but…” he shook his head, resigning himself to something. “Listen, this is about to be a bad time for both of us.” He bent over LaCroix, who tensed away from him. With unfathomable alarm, he realized he was about to be scooped off the ground.

“Don’t!” he hissed, “You can’t! I’m – “ disgusting. Revolting. Unworthy even to be touched by an Anarch. And the Anarch was equally disgusting by his very nature. Which of them, he wondered, would really sully the other more?

“Pipe down before you get us caught.” Nines did hesitate though, long enough to take off his jacket. He wiped the blood and sweat and dirty tear tracks from LaCroix’s face despite yelps of protest, and then wrapped it backwards around Sebastian’s chest like a blanket. The denim wasn’t the softest, but it was intoxicating, suffused with Nines deep into the fabric…with the scent of his blood…blood that wasn’t rat blood, and smelled so rough and musky and…

“Hey don’t pass out on me, okay? Prissy fuckin’ Prince… I can't believe they managed to rough you up even worse than I would've. That's truly creativity. Come on, one, two, three…” And, lifted in the arms of the Anarch leader, LaCroix’s new life began.

[510amy5]

On April 8 I got to experience something absolutely incredible: a total solar eclipse. Its hard to express just how exciting this was for me but here goes.

I have always loved space, ever since I was a kid. I played the Magic School Bus planets game, I read about how the moon affects our tides, I learned how to make a pin hole projector for watching a partial solar eclipse at 5 years old. I started learning constellations (my fav has always been Cassiopeia) and could find north using the stars by the time I was 8. When I was 10, our family Christmas gift was a very large and fancy telescope. Suddenly I was no longer limited to my naked eyes. We spent a couple nights a week all summer looking at anything interesting we could find in the night sky. I learned to use a star chart, locate the planets on the ecliptic and of course operate our telescope (which was powerful enough that the rotation of earth was noticeable over the course of a couple mins). This is when I came up with my space bucket list.

Some items were ones I saw before the list was created, but they were amazing and helped inform my items yet to be experienced.

Space things I've seen:

Rocks on the moon

Craters on mars

Rings of Saturn

Jupiter's spot

Binary star system

Total lunar eclipse

The international space station (through telescope)

Moons around Mars, Jupiter and Saturn

Venus transit of the sun

Total solar eclipse

Space things I want to see:

Shuttle launch

Aurora borealis

Rings of Neptune

An asteroid

A comet

I was over the moon (pun intended) when I found out that I was near the path of totality for this eclipse. 20 mins drive to move an item from the bottom list to the top one. That's what this started as for me, a box to check and an opportunity to say "that was cool".

So I drove with my parents and my baby and we setup our lawn chairs at the community centre in the town south of us. Its a tiny, middle of nowhere town where everything closes on Sundays and they only have 1 traffic light. Suddenly it was on the map as people traveled in to experience the eclipse. It felt like a big picnic with people chatting and sitting out with their families, pulling out their special glasses every few moments to look up.

I watched as the moon sliced away at the sun. Bit by bit the light got darker and weirder and the temperature dropped. It was exciting but there was also something viscerally unsettling about it. My mind knew this was fun but my body knew something was WRONG. The sun is such an easy thing to take for granted. Its always there, shining away just the same. But when something so fundamental changes, your body notices. This was a duality of experience I never expected.

Then we finally reached the point of totality. This was the moment I had been waiting for, my check box experience. But it was way more than just cool. The world went dark, street lights coming on and birds breaking out in sudden confused song. The people around me cheered and hugged. And I, as I so often have before, I looked up. Understanding the mechanics of an eclipse and having it described couldn't come close to what I was now looking at. I expected a hole in the sky but you could still see the outline of the moon. Not like a "ring of fire" eclipse, but just because the sun puts out that much light and power. The tendrils of the corona reached as far into space as the sun was wide, waved and curled into lines way more organic than the sun beams I always imagined. I had heard the corona was going to make a good show due to this year being the solar maximum but that was an understatement. It was like being on an alien planet orbiting a weird star. I took a quick video for a friend and then just soaked up the moment. Totality only lasts a couple mins and too soon a diamond spark appeared on the edge. No longer safe to look at. We donned our glasses and just stared in awe. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

Other groups started to pack up around us. We waited though, watching as the sun slowly regained purchase in the sky. The birds stopped singing, the light normalized. I changed my baby's diaper before we hopped in the car to drive home.

In history and media, a total eclipse is often seen as the beginning of the apocalypse or an omen of some kind and I can see why. It is an experience so alien and rare that it must have some deeper meaning right? I agree. In my case however, what I see is the beauty of God's creation. I see all the factors that lined up to give me the gift of this experience and I see His hand. Now I sit and work to find the words to convey an indescribable event, hoping I can share some of this experience. I can only hope I live to see this sight again.

[therummesoccupied]

IDW'S SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, ISSUE #74 - THOUGHTS

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

Oh yeah, I have a review to do.

So, here we are - the penultimate issue of the Phantom Riders arc, which itself might be the climax of the ongoing Clean Sweepstakes saga, we'll see.

This issue does everything you'd expect the second-to-last issue of a major arc to do. Builds the stakes, heightens the drama, and sets everything up for a climactic showdown, and it opens up by paying off a showdown of its own, set up last issue.

Here we get Amy, Tails, Belle, Don, and the Chaotix vs. Clutch and his henchmen - with Rough and Tumble being amongst them. Last time, I mentioned that I expected this fight to go fairly quickly in the heroes' favor, wondering what it was Clutch had up FDWJFGBDhis sleeve, and it turns out...

A. I was right!

B. Nothing!

Yeah, outside of the quick hostage situation, the heroes are quickly able to fend of Clutch and co. long enough for Charmy to escape the vault carrying a data drive full of Clean Sweep's dirty deeds. Pursued by Clutch, he immediately rushes it to the bridge, resulting in this really great scene where Clutch struggles tirelessly to stop Nite from releasing the incriminating information to the public, but at every turn, the random, nameless Restoration workers throw themselves in his way - throw themselves into danger - to slow him down, even if it's just a couple seconds.

It really hammers in just how genuinely cool the Restoration is. These people are volunteers. We have no idea if they're being paid or not, but the fact of the matter is that nobody is requiring them to be here. And yet, when the chips are down, these regular folks spring into action because they believe in the Restoration and its cause, not because of how lucrative its partnership with Clean Sweep can be.

I also love Clutch's expressions throughout this issue. Over the course of this whole saga, Clutch has prided himself on being a smooth operator, remaining collected and confident as he pulls strings from the shadows. Yet, every now and again, we've seen little hints of a hidden temper within him. Hints that, when his plans don't go smoothly, he nearly falls apart. Here, we finally get to see that in full force, with Clutch absolutely melting down when all of the chips he so perfectly arranged seem to turn against him. I really like seeing him descend into petty rage.

Nite and the Restoration volunteers aren't the only ones getting badass moments here, though. Jewel herself gets a bit of spotlight when Clutch tries to take control of the shuttle and its weapons system, using her own authorization to activate the shuttle's self-destruct sequence.

Clutch, of course, doesn't take this sitting down, his tantrum coming to a head as he sets the shuttle on a crash course with the city below before wrecking the controls the prevent the course from being altered. It's kind of insane that the stakes to this story got so high when there's no tyrannical empire, no ancient gods, no sentient weapons of mass destruction. Just a crude businessman about to commit a massive war crime that will result in countless casualties.

The drama does not stop outside the shuttle though, as, in the midst of Sonic's face-off with the Diamond Cutters, Duo arrives and spills a not-insignificant can of beans:

They've been playing an interesting game with the Diamond Cutters here, with Lanolin doggedly pursuing the Phantom Rider while Tangle and Whisper know it's Sonic, and keep quiet because they assume he's acting for the greater good in some way - all the while Mimic, incognito as Duo, works to drive a wedge between them. Tensions have been rising between the DC for some time now, and it seems like they may finally come to a head here. I'm fascinated to imagine what will happen as a result of this. How will this affect Lanolin's view of herself as a leader, knowing that her own teammates didn't trust her enough to tell her about this? How will she react when she learns that Sonic's stunts as the Phantom Rider were all pulled off with the help of Dr. Eggman? What's going to happen when they all learn who Duo really is? This plot line specifically has got me really excited.

Of course, all the while, Sonic himself sees the imminent danger approaching and rushes off to handle it without a second thought, without a single care what conclusions the Diamond Cutters come to regarding his recent antics.

This arc has really done a great job at nailing down that irreverent aspect of Sonic's character. He doesn't care what laws he broke or what the consequences are. He only cares what he feels is right, and acts upon that instinct one hundred percent of the time. Radical free-agent, Sonic the Hedgehog.

We also get a neat little bit of tension between Duo and Surge as well.

This is really cool since Mimic, now faced with Surge and Kit as enemies, has to reckon with the fact that they are they only two people in the world besides Clutch who know his true identity, and the extreme danger they present to him. As he rushes with the Diamond Cutters toward the Shuttle, and the inevitable confrontation with Clutch, it's likely that his cover isn't going to last too much longer, so I'm really excited to see how this all shakes out.

And that's where Issue 74 leaves us - right in the throes of a do-or-die scenario. These past couple arcs have really been peak IDW Sonic, and this issue did a phenomenal job of bringing everything to a boiling point.

Hammerstrom was a perfect choice for this one, as his expressions really sold the drama at play here, and Froese's lines and Graham's colors consistently compliment his work perfectly. Stanley continues to be at the top of her game, and I can't wait to see how she pays all this buildup off in the next issue.

Before that, however, we have a Knuckles Anniversary Special to look forward to here in about... 20 minutes, so I'mma go read that and see what my thoughts are.

Til then, thanks for reading, and I'll catch you for the next review!

[minisugakoobies]

WIP Tag Game

rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips

Thank you for the tags @theharrowing & @star-my! 💕

Tagging: @kiestrokes @chans-room @bangtanintotheroom @augustbutwinter @thatlongspringnight @sowoozoo-7 @vyduan apologies if you've already been tagged, no pressure to play! 💜

I've been in a writing slump lately - I have a million WIPs in progress but am unable to find the motivation or concentration to finish any. So if any of these sound interesting, please let me know - your excitement is what keeps me going! 💕💕💕

There’s some smut in some of these snippets, so I’ll put those under a cut.

3 WIPs:

The Rules:

“And after that, we were banned from ever visiting Ikea again,” Chan finishes, a crooked grin crossing his face as he waits for your reaction. “That is… the greatest story I’ve ever heard,” you inform him. “Thank you, just, so much, for that.”  Chan nods, leaning back against the vinyl of the booth seat. “Now, you’re not gonna run off and snitch to Changbin, are you? Tell him I’ve divulged all his dirty secrets?”  You press your hand to your chest, looking scandalized. “Absolutely not! I would never. Everything you’ve told me stays with me.” You pause. “Until I need it.”  “Fair.” His grin returns, cheekier than ever. “If you’re gonna use it for blackmail, I will be expecting a cut. Just to warn ya.”  A server stops by your table to grab your empty glasses and drop off the check. It feels like the perfect opportunity to bring the night to a close - thank Chan for the drinks, since he didn’t even attempt to argue with you about paying, simply dropped his card on the tray, thank him for the gossip, and bid him a good evening.  But no. You’re you, and so instead of saying “Thank you” or “Good night,” you say, “I think we could come to an arrangement.”  Chan tilts his head, eyes roaming from your smiling lips down to your goose-dimpled thighs and back, and you realize you may have miscalculated a bit. Because the sweet expression on his face has vanished, replaced by a look of hunger so ravenous, your pulse quickens - the primal reaction of prey realizing it’s exactly where a hunter wants it.  “Could we now?” He shifts slightly, the arm around your shoulders falling between you as he signs the receipt. He taps the pen on the table. “I like the sound of that.”  You do too, which is why there are klaxons suddenly blaring in your head. You should really leave. Instead of sliding further into the corner of the booth as Chan casually leans forward, blocking your view of the rest of the bar.  That’s when the hand that was at Chan’s side creeps its way onto your exposed thigh.

Untitled Vamp!Jimin sequel (to Claim):

Jimin lets out a loud laugh. “Damn, you are beyond drunk. Come on, let’s get you ready for bed, you lush.”  Fine, maybe you are drunk. Tonight had been a bit of a special occasion. Tonight, your boyfriend finally introduced you to the rest of his coven. To the vamps who had basically raised him from a feral fledgling to be the incredible undead man he is today. Since you are wildly, hopelessly, head over heels in love with Jimin, you’d been nervous as hell to meet all of his friends. You wanted them to approve of you and Jimin’s relationship. To approve of you. Which meant you’d gone a little heavy on the wine tonight.  In the end, you’d had nothing to fear. Jimin’s friends loved you, and the feeling had been more than mutual. So the drinking turned from anxious to celebratory. Leaving you now stumbling around your boyfriend’s bedroom as he tries to shepherd you towards the closet, where your pajamas (an old t-shirt of his) await.  But you’re not ready for bed. At least, not for sleep. Immediately, your petulant side makes itself known as you drop onto his bed with a pout. “Don’t wanna sleep. Not tired.”  Jimin stops at the end of the bed, reaching for you. His hands are ice, like always, but they feel good laced between your warm fingers. “Didn’t say anything about sleep, now did I?” You try to resist his tugging, try to pull him onto the bed with you. It’s futile. All he has to do is engage a tenth of his vamp strength and you’re on your feet. You squeak in delight.  “I love it when you do that!”  His grin blinds you from this close as he wraps his arms around you. “When I do what?”  “Use your vamp strength and toss me around like a ragdoll.” You sigh happily, beaming as he rubs his nose against yours.  “Like a ragdoll, hmm?” Eyebrow cocked, he spins you around, aiming you towards the closet. “Got it. Now strip it down for me.” 

Untitled YoonMinKook x Reader fic:

As soon as the door is closed, Jungkook’s kissing you, walking you backwards towards his couch. There are no words spoken when he pulls you into his lap, peeling your shirt off so he can run his mouth along the swell of your breasts where they spill over the cups of your bra. Nor are there any when his hand slips down your pants and yours slips down his. It isn’t until he’s got you naked on his bed, thighs wrapped around his ears as his mouth hovers over your cunt, that he finally breaks the silence. “Thank you,” he sighs happily, warm breath dancing across your skin.  The pillows under your head and shoulders give you the perfect view of his face as he peers up at you. “You’re thanking me? For this?” Shouldn’t you be thanking him? “Yeah. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was afraid you were gonna say no.” He grins, a bashful smile more befitting someone who isn’t currently nestled between your legs. His nose crinkles, and you sigh.  You’ve always loved the delicate little slope of his nose. Now, with him nuzzling right into your sensitive nub, you wonder if he’d let you ride it. It looks perfect for riding. “I mean… after the other day, at the cabin…” you trail off when he kisses your inner thigh, lips lightly fluttering there. “You know, I didn’t know you were into guys.” He stops long enough to laugh. “”M not into guys or girls. I’m into people.” His hand gently squeezes your ass as his eyebrows wiggle. “All genders are welcome to flatten me with their thick thighs. I’m an equal opportunity pancake.”  You laugh, which quickly turns into a whimper as he licks along your slit. “Are you saying I have thick thighs?”  “Your thighs are perfect,” he murmurs, breathing into your clit, fingers gripping your plump skin as you unconsciously try to squirm away from the ticklish sensation. He keeps you locked in place, not just with his hands, but with the look he gives you. It tells you to stay still, so you do.  “I’ve never flattened anyone with them, though.”  He smirks, smugness dripping from his voice. “That’s because you’ve never let me do this before.”

3 Published:

Into The Rush:

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”  Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-” “Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’ Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression.  “I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.” Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock. “What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!” 

Versus:

You tug against the restraints, testing their give. There is none.  “Finally, our little dance comes to an end, pretty bird,” Yoongi coos, twirling his dagger, the light from the lamp swinging overhead reflecting off the long blade. “Does that make you sad?” “You make me sad,” you hiss. “You’re pathetic.”  He’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, as usual, refusing to shut up long enough to let you figure out what’s going on with your powers. Again you try to access them and fail.  This isn’t the time to panic. You need to get free. Guess you’ll have to do this the hard way. Yoongi’s gaze rakes over you slowly as you hang helplessly against the wall. Ignoring the sudden stirring in your gut, you pull on the ropes. There. Your left hand. If you can just twist a little more…. Yoongi presses his blade against your throat. The cold metal bites into your skin as his other hand grips your shoulder, and you freeze, going completely still beneath his touch. “What was that, pretty bird?” he asks, cat-like eyes targeted on your lips. “Say that again.” 

Paradise:

Ding! The elevator doors swept open, and you entered, pressing the button for the first floor. “Hold it!” a voice called out as a tall figure jogged into view. You held out your arm, keeping the doors open as your neighbor, Jeon Jungkook, stepped inside. Jungkook nodded appreciatively at you as the doors slid shut. He leaned against the wall, eyes closing as music drifted from the earbuds tucked into his ears. His long black hair fell haphazardly into his face, obscuring his eyes and skimming his cheekbones. He wore his usual oversized hoodie and sweatpants, all black, of course. As far as you were aware, he didn’t own any clothing in any other shade. You let your head rest against the wall as you surreptitiously peered at your neighbor, thinking about just how little you really knew about the man. Two years of living next door to him, and he remained a complete mystery to you. Other than the occasional run-in, you rarely saw Jungkook. You had no idea what he did for a living or how he spent his time, other than the fact that he never seemed to be awake before noon. (The wall between your apartments was woefully thin, enough that you’d gotten to know the shrill bleating of his alarm all too well.) You supposed that you could take the initiative to learn more about him. Maybe try to engage him in conversation beyond the occasional “hey.” But Jungkook didn’t make it easy, the way he’d run back to his apartment anytime you saw him in the hallway, his big brown eyes widening like a startled deer trapped in headlights whenever he was caught off guard by your presence. At least he wasn’t rude. You’d had your share of asshole neighbors. He was nowhere near that list. He just seemed reserved. Maybe even a little shy, given his tendency to dash off like a frightened rabbit. Sometimes, when you’d say hello, his nose would scrunch up and his eyes would squeeze shut as his perfectly pouty lips pulled back to reveal a sweet smile that made your heart flip. The first time he’d grinned like that, you’d been completely disarmed, not expecting this hulking figure in black to transform into a cute little bunny. (You weren’t sure why you automatically thought of innocent woodland creatures when daydreaming about your neighbor’s fine features, but here you were.)

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

I am sorry this is going to be long but I am definitely interested in discussing Ada's trauma in 6! 6 is actually one of my favorite games in the series simply because of how expressive Ada is (I mean she's always expressive but here its a lot more obvious).

The amount of trauma that had to build up for Ada to get to a point where her emotions are obvious I feel so bad for her. Most of the RE characters have had shit lives but we still don't know what Ada's backstory is (at least, her canon backstory) and I'm 95% certain its not a happy one. So we have whatever happened in her childhood, then whatever got her involved in the espionage world, then we move on to her time working for Wesker and around that same time she did some things for Simmons too. And the rest of what happened in 2-Damnation.

Then we get to 6 and its an absolute shit-show for her. Every time she's on screen she's discovering some new information about these missions that she was assigned but didn't go on and then the whole Project Ada thing and her connecting the dots and figuring out she's got an evil twin running around. Not only that but she knows that Simmons is the reason that "Ada" exists. Oh and Chris Redfield is trying to arrest her too. In the scene with the tape and then the calls with Carla and Simmons, Ada drops her smile whenever she isn't talking (even almost frowning). So we can see that she's putting on a mask even just this far it's really bothering her.

The scene where Ada finds the research for Project Ada is fascinating to watch her expressions. Her face changes from shock and disgust to something like fear or sadness throughout that scene. And then Ada watches Carla fall and "die" - basically watches herself die. Again her facial expressions are fairly prominent. There's shock for the most part, but then for a split second she falls back into sadness. This continues into the next scene where she's talking to "dead" Carla and we see that Ada also sees Carla as a victim of Simmons, but doesn't excuse what Carla did afterwards.

When Carla transforms, I think that is probably one of the most traumatizing things Ada sees because again, she's watching this happen to basically herself and that's very different from watching it happen to other people who look nothing like you. i want to know what's going through her head. Is she thinking that this could've been her if she hadn't cut contact with Simmons?

The ending scene is probably one of my favorites, aside from Ada herself the music is just fantastic and really helps express Ada's emotions in that moment. At first she's wary/cautious of the cocoon thing but then we get this little head shake and her expression is anger. Eyebrows downward, eyes narrow, lips curled back, teeth clenched. She goes through nearly three clips of ammunition destroying that lab. She has no composure until she gets that phone call and I believe this is the only time we've seen Ada completely lose her composure.

And yeah the lab is dealt with, she's destroyed both Carla's and Simmons' legacies but I don't think she feels any sort of satisfaction in doing that. Catharsis sure, but I think she was at a point where something was going to happen. There was just too much built up. I highly doubt Ada has completely worked through the trauma she went through in 6. If we ever see her post-6 I would like to see how she's dealt with this, if at all, and I hope it would be in a healthier way than the men seem to take to deal with their trauma. Or if she's just thrown herself into her work because work is a safe, normal thing for her and would keep her mind off of China.

Yes! I love that we got Ada's campaign in re6! Separate ways was fun as well, but that was mostly just her simping over Leon lmao. But re6 really allows her to speak her mind and for us as an audience understand her better! I completely agree that you need to play her campaign to fully understand re6, but to really get into her mindset better.

From childhood, in lore books and stuff. It's speculated that Ada was forced into crime as young as 10, and she needed to do it to survive. She has NOT had it easy. People like to forget that she's a VICTIM. That she didn't ask for any of this. We see her handle all of her struggles with a smile on her face, but I really think that's the facade of Ada Wong that she uses to manage her own feelings and traumas.

That the idea of Ada Wong isn't even her. YES every time her smile drops, I DIE A LITTLE. How much PAIN is she in??? She even feels so bad for Carla, that she was also a victim to Simmons. That even Carla, who committed SO MANY CRIMES UNDER THE GUISE OF ADA. She (Ada) can still find it in her to see that Carla didn't deserve what happened to her. Ada is one of the strongest characters in re. And we just don't get to see it enough.

I really want some closure on whether or not the BSAA thinks that Ada is dead or not. They declared it, but then Leon's just like :D she's alive! Like not even that surprised. I just want to know if they ever figured it all out.

[madhogthymaster]

Down The Cabbit Hole: The Weird World of Klonoa Literature - An Archive (Part 2)

[PART 1]

22 July 2022

As I slowly work my way towards Klonoa media completionism (pending), I find myself drawn to Dream Crusaders, a fan-made continuation to the cancelled Dream Traveller of Noctis Sol webcomic, written and illustrated by Esteban Girolami.

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As you know, my opinions about that officially licensed material are overwhelmingly negative, nevertheless I am curious as to what this adventure may yield under a new direction and vision - which is automatically better than having neither direction nor vision at all.

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To be perfectly blunt, there is absolutely no chance of redemption for that comic. It was a doomed enterprise the second Huepow showed up out of nowhere. Its mere existence is offensive. That said, I'm glad this "sequel" starts off with these two. I'm keenly aware of the hypocrisy.

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Nightmare Klonoa's face game appears to be in top shape, which is swell since the original story did not give me any reason whatsoever to care about this doofus. I only now notice the cute detail of the Pac-Man's ghost hat.

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Actually using loosely established lore from Lunatea's Veil to inform your narrative? Alright, Dream Crusaders, you have my attention.

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Ah, I see. You are using your story as a thinly-veiled excuse to bring back iconic series antagonists for fan-service purposes. I can respect that. At least, you are providing something that your audience might want to see.

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This is how you are choosing to characterize the Goddess Claire, eh? Go on.

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Thou shalt not make Nightmare Klonoa likeable.

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Hurray!

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Honestly, that's a power move on the writer's part.

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Excuse me? How dare you come at me with that expression!? I don't appreciate being specifically targeted!

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Oh no, I love her.

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As far as fanfictions go, this is giving me exactly the kind of inanity I would enjoy from the medium. It is not a good Klonoa story but it's clearly having fun with its dumb premise. Goddess Claire, in full anime super villain mode, is the unquestionable MVP.

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I get the feeling this author does not particularly care about Guntz, which the only acceptable behaviour when it comes to Guntz.

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"Oh don't mind me, I'm just going to Naruto pose in the background of this exposition panel."

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Gasp! It's the bandana-wearing Moo! Legally distinct from the bandana-wearing Waddle Dee!

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"I promise not to obliterate the elderly, metaphorically or otherwise."

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It's Trauma Bunny!

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Ah, an appropriate pairing. Trash belong together, after all.

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"Hyuck!"

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Original Character. Do Not Steal.

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I am a man of simple pleasures.

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He looks just right.

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Well, this is awkward.

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As of this date, that was the last currently available page for Dream Crusaders. I am enjoying this fan-interpretation of a failed project quite a bit. It might be just a load of fan-service and entirely self-indulgent but it's the passionate, dedicated sort of fan-service driven fanfiction.

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It is everything Noctis Sol was not: the exact opposite of a soulless, dull, visionless drivel, one that actually takes the time and care to properly write sufficiently-defined characters and consistent story beats. I will continue to read it in the future.

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Conclusively, it's a fun read and the artwork is high quality, more professionally sequenced and framed than the *official* webcomic series. Unfortunately, you would have to go through that abomination in order to get to the good part.

---

With this dream firmly behind us, like a distant memory of childhood, it is time to burrow ourselves down, deeper and deeper, into the Cabbit Hole in order to unearth older, much more obscure materials. Next time, we enter the positively drizzling underworld of Klonoa's "scanlations" and any remaining miscellanea, thus finally bringing my archive up to speed. Stay drowsy, fellow Phantomilians.

[PART 3]

[deathfavor]

@ofsavior said: “Hey, uh — Kazutora-kun.” Clearing his throat, Chifuyu stands tall. Emerald eyes meet gold, and hesitation flickers across his expression. One hand rubs the nape of his neck, and Chifuyu grows awkward. “Would you wanna… go to the zoo sometime?” And maybe hold hands or walk into the sunset before dinner together. You know, the way two adults — two bros — should be. Lips fall to a line as anxiety pulls him back to reality. Huffing to himself, he crosses his arms. “We can get icecream after if you want.”

  Kazutora’s made himself comfortable where he's sat on the couch, bottom lip caught between his teeth in the way he always does when he’s focused, gaze fixed on the game on his phone. ( The advancement in technology is still wild to him to see how far it has come in his absence. Though he is rather concerned about breaking its delicate screen compared to the older phones. ) His brows furrow with concentration, but his eyes lift to look towards Chifuyu the moment other speaks.

   “ You don’t need to use honorifics with me, y’know. “  Kazutora answers with an almost silent chuckle, pocketing his phone to give the other his full attention. Never mind that Kazutora’s said this before. He’s pretty sure he’s written it too. It probably won’t change anything now. But it’s a thread of conversation that is easy and familiar and it might help with whatever causes the hesitation in Chifuyu’s expression and the awkwardness that is showcased with every gesture.

  Kazutora does not push ; he knows better than anyone how patience is valued and necessary.

   “ The zoo? “ He hadn’t expected that. Gold eyes immediately brighten at the idea of it, an excited buzz starting up in his chest.  “ Fuck yeah! Of course I want to! “  He clasps his hands together gleefully at the suggestion. It’s a display not unlike that of a child whose just been informed summer vacation is near. “ God, can you believe I forgot about zoos? I loved the zoo. “  It would have been obvious even without Kazutora’s surge of words about how enthusiastic he is with the idea based on how his eyes shine brightly, the way he leans his whole body forwards, and the weightless, happy smile on his face.

   “  And I have money for the gift shop now. “ His eyes narrow playfully, a conspiring look on his face.  “  Oooo! We could get matching shirts! What do you say, Chifuyu?  “  He asks, trying and failing to hide the devious giggle. Knowing Kazutora, his favorite shirt was going to be the gaudiest, overpriced shirt that the gift shop would offer. And he would absolutely love it.  

   And ice cream?  “  Chifuyu, if I ever turn down ice cream, I’m either sick or have been replaced by a doppelganger or body snatcher. “  He says with a mock serious tone.  “  Sounds like fun. “  He beams.  “  But if I have to wait three weeks for this zoo visit, I might pass away. “  He adds with an easy laugh. “ Did you have a day in mind? “ He asks, the gears already turning in his head over this.

[shaykesqueer]

O Rose, Thou Art Sick

Chapter Eleven: Tenebrae

Chapter Links | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | AO3

Summary: Mountain comforts Fox after the terrible day they've had, and finally reveals to them why Terzo is so bitter.

Word Count: 5.9k

Content Warnings: So much angst. Fox's mental health is not the best, they have a lot of shit to deal with. This chapter contains a very, very graphic depiction of a traumatic flashback causing a panic attack and dissociation. It might be a little bit overexaggerated, but I used a lot of my own experiences to write it. Proceed with caution. Details regarding major character death, Terzo is undead, references to beheading, and drinking to cope.

Notes: This is a very sappy, angsty chapter and I love it very much. Mountain is just the biggest, most patient softie. This chapter also contains information regarding the Papas' names and ages in this universe, I know that's not everyone's cup of tea but they're just my personal headcanons for the purposes of this fic. Namesake for this chapter is the Dario Argento film of the same name (Which is amazing, you should watch it)

Mountain had several favourite spots around the Ministry. There was, of course, the greenhouse. It was usually quite empty, and it was nice that he could stretch his legs off the side of the high walkways while he stopped for a snack. There was his own private garden, just north of the den. The other Ghouls knew not to visit unless asked, which was admittedly rare but never out of the question, and he always shared the spoils with them regardless. Most of which was a diverse variety of weed, but the occasional carrot snuck its way in there. But his absolute favourite spot out of all of them was deep in the woods. It wasn’t exactly a spot but he liked all of it. All two hundred and ninety seven acres of it. And Mountain knew that Fox was out here. 

He also knew they weren’t quite foolish enough to wander very far into the woods, even in the throes of rage, and at night no less. In fact, Mountain knew exactly where Fox would be. 

Since that first afternoon in Copia’s garden, the two had spent more time together. Mountain liked that they’d fallen into a sort of game, a game of exchanging flowers and plants, giving each other petals and clippings. Fox could name every one, every time. Even if it wasn’t the full plant, just a leaf or a stem would do. Or a drawing. They knew all the latin names as well. It had been Aurora who had brought up the fact that none of them could actually confirm whether they were ever right or just full of shit. Mountain didn’t want to believe it, even though it was a valid point, and he made a big show of checking online to prove Fox right. Even if they had been lying, which they weren’t, Mountain thought Fox did it so confidently that he would’ve probably just let them keep on with it. And they did bring him so many beautiful flowers, after all. 

Sometimes it seemed that Fox spent just as much time outdoors as he did. If he thought they would suddenly start sleeping in the gardens, he might even say they spent more time out there than he did. But one thing he did know was that they had yet to venture into these woods. The two had loitered at the precipice together, and even on that first day they had expressed their sincere interest in one particular spot. It was something about the thicket of trees, where the grass faded into dirt. Circlets of mushrooms stood against the dappled shade, fireflies dotting the dark, making it glow. It was a nice spot. 

It had been several hours since Mountain had made sure Fox had gotten away from the den. More importantly, away from Copia. Even more importantly than that, talking them down from killing him. Actually, now that he looked back, there hadn’t been much talking. Fox had not taken too kindly to being manhandled, and the thing they had said the most, Mountain didn’t really want to repeat. The word fuck had lost all its meaning by now, though. In their defence, he had scooped them up again once they’d left the den. But, in his defence, they had tried to make another break for it. He had managed to carry them all the way to the greenhouse over his shoulder before they’d finally calmed down enough for him to set them loose. Unsurprisingly, they hadn’t been in the mood to shoot the shit. 

He hadn’t heard anything else from them all evening. Or from Copia for that matter. He’d kept his eye on Fox long enough, watching them storm off inside with all the tact of a brick thrown through a window, and about half as disruptively. Fox had a habit of walking around as if they were in a hurry, stomping clumsily with their fists at their sides, but this was something else. Mountain thought that if he hadn’t let them steam off some of that anger before letting them go, they would’ve walked straight through the first wall unlucky enough to be in their warpath. 

Back in the den, Phantom had been the first to ask if Fox was okay. The lingering answer that was already on the tips of everyone’s tongues was like hell they are. But no one wanted to say that to Bug. No one wanted to look into his little face and say ‘Fox is in the middle of a nervous breakdown and might very well leave Papa’s head on a spike’. Except maybe Dew, who was the most excited for having seen the fight. And the most disappointed that Mountain hadn’t let Fox tackle Copia to the ground. Phantom was also the first to get a little upset. Out of the Ghouls, that was. The den briefly fell into a bit of an argument, with Swiss at the head of it. 

~They came onto me!

That’s not what I heard-

Did you really have to push his buttons? 

How do we know he even did anything? 

He was lying, can’t you tell?

He overreacted. 

They both overreacted!~

Thankfully, it was a short lived spat. Thanks to Darcy and Bennet, everyone had been left more than a little wound up- in high spirits, and it has just taken some time to come down from that high. Despite it all, the Ghouls shared at least one thought. They all hoped, prayed, Cirrus was having a better night. 

Ahead of Mountain, in that thicket of trees, Fox was leant back against the trunk of a cosy looking tree. They were smoking- no surprise there. Mountain was sure they’d probably stress-rolled at least a dozen cigarettes and inhaled at least half of those while they’d been sitting there. He was still standing a ways back. Fox was turned away from him, they wouldn’t have noticed even if he had been closer, but he didn’t want to spook them. Even from this distance, Mountain could see them quite clearly. He had very good night vision, and even in the monochrome of the darkness, it was beautiful out here. He could see the life force floating off everything, like strands of silk rising up to the moon. He could see all the spores and the dirt breathing, trees glowing, roots tangling alive and together beneath the surface. Fox had a soft light.

“Go away,” they said as he approached, taking a long drag of their cigarette. They didn’t look over. Mountain couldn’t be sure they knew it was him. 

“You’re still pouting?” He stayed back a little. Fox deserved that, they deserved the space. 

“I’m not pouting, he-”

“I know.” Mountain cut them off, softly. The last thing he wanted was for Fox to get riled up again. But he understood, he really did. He knew he wouldn’t have liked it if someone had killed his plants. It was obvious to him that there was something more at play here than a spiteful feud. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain. It was obvious to anyone without one, if he was honest. He knew it, the whole den knew it, and the only people who didn’t were the perpetrators themselves. Even so, he would guess they both might have been feigning ignorance because of their own damned stubbornness. But he also knew he couldn’t actually say anything or it would provoke the pair into another cage match, and he wasn’t alone in not wanting to pick up the debris again. Mountain was a patient man, he was sure that Fox and Copia would come to the less destructive conclusion themselves. Eventually. But he still didn’t want them to suffer in the meantime. “So you’re just going to stay out here all night?”

Fox blew out a thin stream of smoke and stubbed out their cigarette on the bottom of their shoe. “Maybe,” they said, dropping the butt into a tin that they slipped back into their coat pocket. “What’s it to you?” 

Mountain wasn’t quick to anger. Not like Fox, or Dew. Or Aurora. But she wasn’t really angry, just scary. Maybe it was because he was so tall, further away from the licking fires of Hell. But he wasn’t very angry by nature at all, really, he never had been. That being said, he could take a lot and he could take it gracefully. Harsh words and spite like that didn’t touch him so much. When Fox finally looked at him, he could see how sad they really were. Their eyes were puffy and irritated. Glossy and marred by dark circles. They’d been crying, that much was obvious. 

After a few strides, he drew in a breath and crouched beside them. Fox didn’t look at him again, instead seeming more interested in drawing patterns in the dirt with the tip of their finger. He noticed a spider creep along beside them and Fox stuck a hand out for it. It scuttled onto their palm and they let it dance over their knuckles for a moment. It made Mountain feel quite hopeful, seeing how soft they could be even when they were so, so angry. It didn’t hurt that he liked spiders too. As long as they stayed outside. 

A fair few minutes passed before Fox turned their eyes to Mountain again, but when they did, he stretched out his hand and made sure they were watching. Like brushstrokes, evergreen specks spiralled in his palm. They unfurled, poking up sharp and delicate, cradling blooming bulbs that shone red and pink. Rosehips, a whole collection of them. “Here,” he said. 

Fox’s glassy eyes watched in wide, quiet amazement. Mountain knew Fox couldn’t see the tendrils of magic he could, but he knew they would feel it. 

“Oh, Mountain…” they breathed. Mountain had never seen them so hesitant to reach out for a plant. Their touch was gentle, far more gentle than he’d ever seen them, as if they thought the buds would crumble under their fingers with the slightest brush. 

“You’ll plant them again. And I’ll help, we all will,” he said. “I know they’re not the same, but isn’t there beauty in that?” 

Mountain knew that this was nothing less than a heartbreak for Fox. And he knew that plucking a few seeds out of some rosehips wasn’t going to replace how they’d felt when Sunny sprouted those last ones for them. And it wasn’t going to be easy this time. He overturned his hand and bloomed another, letting it spread out long roots and vines that curled around his fingers. Petals peppered his wrists, his arms, spiralling the curves of his horns. He shot a smile at Fox. “We can mourn what we’ve lost, and then we start again. Watch these ones bloom next.”

Fox smiled back and Mountain felt some comfort. They looked back at the hips in their hands, considering them. But a look crossed their face after a moment. Comfort slipped away into a flat, trembling grief. Their eyes welled, mouth twisting like they were trying so hard not to let go. Mountain didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what was wrong. Fox would speak when they were ready. 

Everything became quiet. The wind rustled through the trees, crickets chirped around them. The surface wasn’t like home, his first home. Not like it was below, in the Pit. And like most of the other Ghouls, Mountain felt nostalgic at times. Homesick, at times. But he wouldn’t call down there his real home. Not anymore. What an insult that would be to the Earth, where he lived. Where he could love and breathe and where he was surrounded by creatures and flora unknown to him for the longest time. Everything here was so simple and yet anything but. Incomprehensible and confusing and wonderful. Mountain felt the most at home here, out here in the forest, where everything came to life around him. He was happy that he could share it with Fox, even now. 

“What’s the point of me even being here if you… can do things like that?”

Mountain frowned. Fox wouldn’t look at him. That’s not what they were trying to say and he knew it, and they clearly knew it too. And they wouldn’t let themself say it. What’s the point of me? 

“Don’t say that like you’re not important,” he said. He meant it. 

“I’m not.” Fox meant it too. And he believed they really did.

They must have known they had a temper. Fox wasn’t stupid. They were just as bad as Copia, just as to blame for provoking all of this. They could let him be if they really wanted to. Mountain understood that there was a peculiar comfort to feeling the way they did. Not just sad, not just useless. Broken. Maybe there was a part of them that wanted to justify it. A self-fulfilling prophecy. Like he had thought before, it was confusing up here. 

Mountain took a few silent minutes to collect himself, gather his thoughts into a neat little bouquet. “I suppose I could try and tell you all the things that you can do that I can’t.” He wasn’t ashamed of any of his shortcomings. He didn’t think any of the Ghouls should be. He was an Earth Ghoul, right down to his bones, and proud of it. He could manipulate wood and stone, like ripples on the surface of the water. But he couldn’t make it, couldn’t conjure it. He could only make things grow on himself, never in the ground around him, no matter how hard he tried. Fox was entirely dedicated to every plant here, they had a deep and endless passion for them, and their knowledge never seemed to run out. 

“Earth isn’t and never could be a replacement for everything you do. But that isn’t what matters, what you can or cannot do. That’s not what makes you.” Mountain paused. “I know I can’t speak for everyone”- Fox tittered- “but we happen to like you. You’re taking care of things, of us. You give a shit. You are important, you just are. That’s the condition to being. You’re doing what you do best, what we all do best. You’re existing and that’s enough.”

Silence fell over the pair again. 

“That’s the most I think I’ve heard you talk in one go,” Fox said eventually and Mountain laughed, putting a hand on their knee. 

“Come on.” Mountain stood and held his hand out to Fox to help them to their feet. “I want to show you something.” 

It was a short walk out of the woods and Fox stayed quiet as they trailed beside Mountain. They were light on their feet, for once, almost shuffling along. They looked a lot shorter than usual curled in on themself like that. Of course, they were quite short, just barely taller than Dew and Lulu. Much like them though, they packed a punch, and they’d never let anyone forget it. When Mountain stopped, Fox bumped into his back. They couldn’t even see over his shoulder. 

“Over there,” Mountain said, pointing towards a clearing. 

“You’re not going to break my neck when I turn away, are you?” Fox laughed, nervously. It was obvious they were feeling a little awkward, trying to fill the silence with morbid jokes. 

“Why do you say things like that?” Mountain said softly, without looking at them. He didn’t want to accuse them, or make them feel worse, but there was really no need to keep deflecting like that. He turned his eyes down to Fox, watching their laugh fizzle away. 

“I’m only kidding,” they muttered. They looked pale. Mountain would have thought with their copper hair and all the time they spent outside, they would’ve caught the sun at some point. They must have been cold out here. 

“There,” he repeated and he nodded ahead of them. 

In the clearing stood a mausoleum. A vast, monstrous statue accompanied it- a towering stone woman, indecently clothed and weeping. Weeping in awful agony. The tomb itself was even bigger than Mountain and decorated with gaudy inlays and patterns, all twisted eyes and hands and stars. A carved noose was cruelly draped over the border of its door. Moss covered every surface. To Mountain’s eyes, the whole thing was glowing. Glowing a sickly green, even in the monochrome of night. 

“I’ve never been here,” Fox whispered. Mountain put a hand on their back and encouraged them to take a brave first step. 

“I know. Read it.” 

He watched as Fox approached the chamber. They looked tiny next to it, like a mouse trapped in a cup or a rabbit beside a cage. Their slow, hesitant footfalls smothered leaves and twigs, their breath swirling in front of their face like ghosts. Their pale fingers traced the engraved words- 

Terzo Raffaele Emeritus 

1958-2018

Served Him as a Bewitching and Lively Papa

Gone, but with Us

Always

The silence was eerie. Ugly. Sick and heavy like treacle hanging in the air. Haunting, like the dead. 

“I don’t understand,” Fox said, shaking their head at him. 

He sighed. “Yes, you do.”

Mountain remembered his summoning well. The first face these eyes ever saw was Terzo’s. It seemed that a lot of the Ghouls had fairly punishing summons, but not him. In all truth, he wasn’t entirely familiar with the exact ritual used to conjure him, and he didn’t care very much to learn its intricacies, but his body had been grown in a garden plot beside the eastern cemetery. From a bull’s heart wrapped in fig leaves. Sometimes he wondered if that was still in him somewhere. It was nothing compared to his last form, but he wondered still. When he first crawled out of that patch of dirt, gasping for the air he didn’t know he needed, Terzo had been there to wrap him up and whisk him away. Mountain couldn’t even speak, couldn’t understand a single word, but Terzo was so charming nonetheless. He would forever believe he fell a little bit in love with the man that night. Although, he found himself feeling that way about most of the Ghouls after his summoning as well. 

For a while, Mountain had been the baby of the pack. He learnt quickly, he got his moments with Terzo, but never as much as the rest of the Ghouls. When he died, it was so sudden. No one knew it was coming. None of them could have foreseen it. But they all felt it, all at once. It had been like a collective severing. Like all the lights suddenly went out. Dew had taken it the hardest. Mountain was of the firm belief that that was what really triggered his elemental change. That had been hard on everyone. He didn’t want to think about that. 

The night Terzo came back was one of the worst days of Mountain’s life. It wasn’t that he was wrong, or even different really. Just so bitter. Like something had turned rotten deep inside him, making him sick. But why wouldn’t he be? He’d been hanged. Beheaded. And he knew Copia had been involved. It didn’t matter that it had been against his will or how wretched and twisted with guilt he had become. Terzo was so angry that he just… kept away from them all. It must have felt like a truly biblical betrayal. 

Mountain knew Fox and Terzo were close by now, and getting closer. Fox wasn’t the only one hurting, they weren’t the only one who felt alone. Perhaps that was why they were so drawn to each other. Mountain felt it too, for having lost Terzo. For having lost his friend. But, he still had hope, no matter how ugly it got. He wanted that for Fox. He wanted that for Fox and Copia, and he only wanted them to see it. 

Fox was quiet as they listened. They listened to every horrible detail Mountain could muster for them. They listened and they waited. Frightened, but patient.  

***

“He’s your brother.”

Terzo looked surprised. Fox was a bit of a sight, panting to catch their breath, wiping their mussed fringe out of their eyes. They’d raced up here, after having to find out where here even was. It wasn’t their fault Terzo’s chambers were on the top floor of this stupid bloody spire. 

They were still reeling a little from what Mountain had told them. But it made sense. It scared them half to death, but God, it made sense. It was why Terzo’s eyes were so dull, why his neck crunched in that blood curdling way. Why he was so damn pale. It surprised Fox that they were more shocked by that than Copia’s supposed involvement, which Mountain had tried to convince them had been forced onto him. It surprised Fox even more that they actually believed him. They didn’t want to, but they felt conflicted. It had taken every ounce of will not to cry while Mountain recounted the tale for them. They really thought for a moment back there that the Ghoul was going to as well. 

Copia had hurt Terzo. So much more than they could imagine. Whether he had wanted to or not, and Terzo was still tethered by that anger. Fox didn’t blame him. The fact of it was… Terzo was Fox’s friend. And Copia was not. It didn’t matter what they felt, it didn’t matter whether they suspected Copia was- and they had to swallow their own vomit to even think it- innocent. Terzo was justified either way and Fox could share his sorrow. 

Terzo looked tired. More tired than usual. Fox realised he didn’t have that black greasepaint around his eyes. His neck was also bare. Fox suddenly felt ashamed of themself, that they’d disturbed the man in his private chambers. He was wearing dark, loose cotton, hidden under a patterned robe, bare feet and bare hands. But his neck. It made Fox’s chest feel tight, looking at that thick circle of scar tissue. They tried not to. 

Fox felt less nervous when Terzo stood aside to let them into the room. His face said he knew they’d discover this eventually. They felt awful for having done so. It must have been nice for him to have someone who didn’t know his shame. Fox wanted to say something, anything, but it was too painful. They wanted to tell him they were sorry. Sorry that he’d lost everything. Sorry that he’d been dragged back to life just to do menial paperwork, having to watch his bastard brother take over his job. 

But Fox didn’t say anything. 

The chamber was noticeably meagre. It didn’t suit Terzo at all. There was no real living space, just a bathroom off to one side, a fireplace, and a bed. It had four posters, like Fox’s. And it was dark in the room, despite the crackling flames in the hearth. 

In front of the fireplace was a set of armchairs. Modern looking and somewhat cosy. Terzo directed them over, let them sit while he poured out two glasses of expensive looking brandy. When Terzo finally sat opposite them, he looked sombre. That wasn’t unusual, of course, but knowing what they did now, it made Fox sad. He toyed with his glass, staring into the liquid as if he could fall in. Fox wondered if he wished he could. They thought that he might have downed the entire drink in one go, but he didn’t and instead took in a breath, readying himself to speak. Fox shook their head and put their hand out to stop him. 

“You don’t-” they swallowed. “I know, okay. I know.” 

Terzo nodded. He was relieved. He looked relieved, at least. Probably glad that he didn’t have to explain himself. 

“Did it…” Fox trailed off, breath catching in their throat. They had to know. They had to. “Did it hurt?” They knew it was selfish. They knew it was a selfish thing to ask, to make Terzo think about it. But they had to know. 

It was too similar to… 

“No,” Terzo said. “It was over before I even felt it.” 

Fox couldn’t tell if he was lying. But if that’s what he wanted them to believe, it was only decent to try to. It felt cruel to try when they didn’t want to, but they didn’t want to think about it now.

“Oh, Volpelino,” Terzo suddenly breathed and he laughed. And it was a real laugh. Real and strong and sweet. 

Fox blinked at him. They wanted to feel hurt by it, having their anguish laughed at. They felt a tight knot in the pit of their stomach, sitting heavy and relentless. But he really did think something was funny. “Why are you laughing?” 

Terzo smiled. “Because you look like you feel sorry for me,” he said. 

Fox’s cheeks felt warm, but looking at that comforting grin made them chuckle ever so. They looked into their drink and took a generous gulp of it. “I kind of do,” they admitted. The situation was… bizarre, to say the least. To Terzo’s credit, laughing did make them feel a little better. They couldn’t help it! They were friends with a zombie. “I mean- you’re dead.”

Terzo shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They might as well have been talking about what he had for breakfast. “Eh, it’s not so bad,” he said cordially. “I couldn’t do this before-”

Snap.

Fox suddenly couldn’t feel their hands. Their heart was swallowed up into a black hole, beating so hard it felt like it was hammering its way through their body. Unbearable and terrifying. Terzo had pulled his own head off- ripped it away as if he was nothing but a doll. It wasn’t bloody at all, and it didn’t look like it hurt, but maybe that was worse. For Fox, the whole world spun out underneath them. They recoiled before they even realised what they were doing, like their body had a mind of its own and only wanted to get them away. They scrambled out of the chair, falling over themself in a flailing of limbs. They weren’t looking at Terzo anymore, they couldn’t. They were looking at him, at the room, through a thick pane of frosted glass, pushed back and unable to reach out. Barred. Trapped. 

Fox saw his face. His face, the boy’s face. Owain’s face. Even when they screwed their eyes shut, tried to get it away, it was still there. Flashing like a death mask. Blood splatter on their face, the smell of the bonfire filling their nostrils, footsteps on the leaves. They felt sick. 

But then they didn’t. It was all wrong, it wasn’t them. It wasn’t their body. They were just wearing themself like a suit, like a veil. Floating away. Shrinking. Shrinking, shrinking inside themself. 

So why was there no air in the room anymore? Not enough to suck into their lungs no matter how hard they tried to scrape it back in? Why did their eyes sting with tears, why did their fingers feel unsteady against their face? 

“Volpe?”

A hand on their back made Fox flinch. Terzo was beside them, well kept as he ever was. His head was back in place, joined at the neck by that neat scar. Fox opened their mouth, but nothing came out. They couldn’t make a sound. Terzo became harder and harder to even see as their vision became blurry with tears. The strain it took trying not to cry was beginning to hurt. It stung, it ached. Felt like their veins were trying to crawl out from their eyes, soul tearing apart from their skin. What they felt most was embarrassment. Hot, hideous embarrassment. Fox wished they could just dissolve. 

Terzo’s hand stayed on their back. After a few moments, after he seemed sure they weren’t going to pull away, he took his other hand and placed it over their sternum. He spread his fingers wide, as if he was trying to cover as much area as he could without putting his other hand beside, and he pressed gently. Fox’s breath came back to them slowly. Slowly, their ghost fazed back into their body, settled back deep inside them, and they could breathe again.

“I thought…” Terzo paused. “It seemed nothing would faze you, amico mio.” 

Fox felt a flood of relief that he hadn’t said sorry. They knew he wanted to, like they had wanted to. But it would have made them feel worse. There was a look on Terzo’s face now. Soft. Not quite understanding but… acceptance. He didn’t need to say anything else. Fox sniffed and they nodded faintly. They pushed down the sick trails of the shame, the hurt. Pushed it away and let themself feel only Terzo’s hands and the warmth of the room. 

“I guess… It does lend a new meaning to giving head…” they said quietly. A joke was good. It made them feel like them again. 

Terzo broke into a boisterous laugh. He pulled Fox into his arms, his chest shaking with his chuckling, stroking the back of their head. “Oh, amore mio.”

Usually, Fox wasn’t the biggest fan of brandy. It was their biggest aversion besides fruity cocktails, which were good for getting hammered quickly, but too sweet for their stomach. Brandy was really the one exception to their mostly indiscriminate alcoholic tastes- it was like whiskey pretending to be wine. They didn’t like that. But considering Fox had already dropped one glass and possibly stained Terzo’s floor, and not being one to turn down a drink no matter what it was, especially now, they gracefully accepted another. Terzo joined them, but he made sure they didn’t forget how categorically excellent this brandy was. And expensive. And how it was simply wasted on Fox’s terrible palette. Fox didn’t disagree. 

As their glasses slowly emptied, the gentle embrace of comfort eased over Fox. Being with Terzo was like being with an old friend, and even though the remnants of distress and embarrassment lingered in them, it waned like the tide. Fox also knew the safe feeling could partly be due to the steady intake of alcohol, which they were thankful for no matter what it tasted like. They didn’t quite want to think how insufferable the evening would have become if they didn’t have it. Eventually, they had become bold enough to ask Terzo how old he really was. It had been in the back of their mind ever since they’d seen his grave. 1958. That would have made him sixty. Sixty. He didn’t look sixty. He wasn’t a young man, but he hardly looked fifty, let alone older. And dead. 

“Are you really sixty?” Fox had asked. All but blurted out, really. Terzo hadn’t seemed shocked and he only shook his head. 

“No,” he had said. “I’m sixty-five. You don’t stop having birthdays after being raised from the dead.”

Fox couldn’t pretend to not be surprised. Terzo, of course, was very pleased with himself. Especially when Fox remarked how amazing he looked. And it was true, he did. Fox only hoped they looked that good when they were sixty or also a zombie. 

There was one more thing inscribed on that grave that had piqued Fox’s interest, beside the lack of flowers that they would soon be remedying. 

Raffaele. 

Terzo had been unusually self-conscious at the mention. It looked bizarre on him- he hardly had a face built for embarrassment. But, after being reminded he owed Fox for having been so very nosy about their name, he revealed it was the name his mother had given him. Fox didn’t press any further on that can of worms. ‘Terzo’ was his orthodox name, so to speak, courtesy of his father. The big guy. 

“He’s not very creative,” Fox had remarked. “And he must have really hated… you-know-who. To have called him Copia.” 

As long as Fox was not mistaken, it must have meant ‘copy’. They were quite proudly Copia’s number one adversary, the one who hated him with every bone in their body, but even they found it just a little cruel. It almost made them feel… no, they’d had too much brandy. 

“Micheletto.”

When Fox had looked at Terzo then, he was smirking against his glass. Now that was a look that suited his face. It took a moment for the word to even reach them, but when it did, Fox laughed. They laughed a lot. They couldn’t stop laughing, actually. 

“That can’t be his name! Oh, I could kiss you, he’s not going to hear the end of this.” 

For only a moment, Terzo gave Fox a disapproving look and they were very much prepared to argue with him. How could he have given them ammo like that and not expect them to use it-

“Save it for the dance,” he said. “It’ll be funnier.”

The dance! That was perfect. Fox had almost forgotten. Almost. The summer solstice had always been a favourite of theirs, and it was difficult to not look forward to that perfect blend of flowers, fire, and fucking in the grass. 

Fox realised they must have been letting their mind drift when Terzo said, “Well, you are going to join me, aren’t you? You’re my date.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if they should have already known. Fox realised they had, really. 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” they said coyly, holding out their glass for a top up. 

“That will certainly turn some heads.”

Fox was no stranger to Terzo’s company at this point, nor him to theirs. Since that long night in the cathedral, it wasn’t unusual for Fox to visit Terzo’s office and even less unusual for them to share a drink. Or three. Since that long night in the cathedral, they spoke often and candidly. Funnily enough, the state of Terzo’s upbringing had never made its way into their chats. In light of the evening’s revelations, this night was different. 

As if the pair needed anything more to bond over, they swapped stories of their childhoods. They were surprisingly similar, in a way. Children of unconventional churches and unconventional families both. Terzo certainly had it more lavish, and was oddly surprised when Fox told him they hadn’t even seen a washing machine until they were well into their twenties. 

Fox never had any real siblings of their own. Friends, certainly. Brothers and sisters alike but never what Terzo had. He spoke of Secondo the most fondly. He had the wherewithal even while muddled with booze to know his brother wouldn’t say as much about him, regardless of the fun they had as boys. Which was made up of mainly playing tricks on Primo. Putting worms in his sandwiches. Leaving rude drawings in his notebooks. Sewing raw meat into the lining of his shoes so the Ghouls would paw at him. Boyish pranks. To Fox’s surprise, Terzo mentioned that even Copia would spend time with them once he was old enough. The only thing Fox heard Terzo say about his baby brother that was even vaguely affectionate, spurred on no doubt by his fourth drink, was that Copia rode around on his little trike like a bat out of hell. A habit that he never seemed to grow out of, even into his forties. Fox was too drunk to comment. Or, at least, they were too drunk to trust themself not to say something damning. 

Fox couldn’t be sure what time they ended up falling asleep. They could hardly remember drifting off, let alone what the time could have been, but it was definitely late. That night was the first that Fox slept in Terzo’s bed. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

He wasn’t using it, after all. Not for sleeping, anyway.

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[sabineelectricheart]

Frustrated Escape

Summary: No matter how hard Rosalie tries, Sebastian always finds her. Perhaps it is better to just give up.

Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.

Explicit depictions of violence and non-consensual sexual activity. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1000

Notes: That’s one sick fic...

Rosalie is a foolish, foolish woman. She has always been foolish, from the time she stepped foot in Hogwarts at fifteen, to when she first met her classmates, to the time she thought she could make a positive change, she has been the stupidest girl in the world.

She is older now. She thought she was wiser, or at least smarter, more capable, but it seems that she is just as much as an idiot as she ever was. There was no escape, there was no way to leave this place, and she was naïve to think otherwise.

The woman does not how he does it, how he always finds her. It is not magic, she is sure, as neither of them have used their wands recently. She because he took away hers, he because he fears that the Ministry will be able to find them if he does.

Yet, even as a wanted man, just as magicless as she is, he is always able to locate her. It may take a little while, a few days or so, but he can always do it, no matter how hard she tries to make it for him. Likewise, she never gets far enough to leave this damnable forest, she never finds no other person or creature, nothing flying overhead, just miles and miles of woods, rivers, mountains and absolute nothingness all around them. A hellhole in what she assumes it is Scotland, but cannot even fucking be sure of that.

Her lover’s moans careened from animalistic growls to howls of pleasure with each thrust, almost as if he was having trouble controlling himself. The bell on your collar, a new addition that made her feel like breeding cattle, rang wildly with each buck of his hips, easily and constantly echoing in the small room, the cage, she had come to know as home.

He chuckled, feeling her hips shamelessly buck against his to meet each thrust, like a sword eager to meet its sheath.

“I missed these hips. Merlin, how I’ve missed them!” He says, out of breath, but with a happy smile gracing his features. “How lean they are, how they feel when I carve my nails on them, how you feel around my cock…”

Large, calloused hands squeezed and kneaded at her emaciated hips, his fingers raking at her skin as if it is the last time that he would ever feel it again. Except this time, it would not be.

She is here now, she is his again. Another loophole closed, another escape frustrated. She is not going to try again, and she is certainly never, ever succeeding again. He will not be standing for any more of these games, he is not going to hold himself back anymore. The idea energises him once again, and he feels the rage coursing through his veins.

His hicks became shallow and slow, made to be strong, hurtful, much to her displeasure. Rosalie whined in protest, but Sebastian was too caught up in admiring her beauty, her presence, the fact that she cannot resist anymore. Dark brown eyes traced the blemished red scar on her chest, a scar that claimed her as his.

She is here now. She is finally here now, he realized. The weight of this information felt heavy on his chest.

“Sebastian? Help me. Please. I… I need…” The woman asks, weakened.

She is hungry and thirsty. She is so very tired. She had been lost for a time when he found her, and while he gave her the bare minimum to survive, she longed for a proper bed to recuperate. Alas, they have been home for hours now, and all he does is fuck her relentlessly.

His rugged expression softened, loving the way her named rolled off his tongue with such love and ease, no trace of fear or sadness dwelled, just resignment and tiredness. Sher pretty eyes slightly widened when he cupped her cheek, his face pulled into a delicate and almost grateful aspect.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe. I need you, Rosie. I love you so fucking much I could just die.” He said, suddenly. The words bloomed in his tongue and he just said them.

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, unused to this side of her angry, bitter husband. It has been a long, long while since he told her that he loved her, that he had anything good to say about her.

She is so tired, so hungry, so thirsty. Her hips hurt, and she has scrapped her knees trying to escape in the wet forest ground. She can barely focus her vision, and what once was a rather fetching, lean young man hovering above her, now is just an incoherent blur.

Rosalie feels her sense slipping away as she delivers herself to illusion and carelessness. It is not worth it to resist, to try and get away, to correct mistakes past, too past to even remember. She is here now, and there is nowhere else to be. Perhaps, if she closes her eyes one more time, if she pretends a little bit harder…

Smiling, a dainty hand reached to grasp his and placed it over her heart. “And I, you. I am yours.”

His hips slammed into her core, as if by instinct upon hearing her lovely words, as if he was glad that she has forgiven him again. She moaned and let her head roll to the side, still watching him through her peripherals with dazed eyes and a blithe smile.

With a groan and a thrust so hard it bled her, Sebastian finishes inside her. He does not worry about pregnancy, he had something done to that effect, yet another thing that he has irrevocably taken away from her.

He lets his body fall over hers haphazardly. “Don’t ever leave me again. I’ll kill you and die.”

Rosalie reached out again, letting her hand gingerly fall on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

*_*_*_*_*

Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

[tiredassmage]

*slides in* several years ago there was this thing in the Dragon Age side of tumblr where people would write about what their main ocs would be like as companions and stumbling across that again made me wonder what Tyr would be like as a swtor companion?

Things like where he’d hang out on the ship, what his companion quest/storyline would be, his favorite and least favorite reputation gifts, idle dialogue, ect ect 👀

Absolutely no pressure to answer figured I’d just throw it your way!

Deryn, I love you I love you I love you I lo-

I took a stab at this a while back that could probably use a touch up or two, particularly on dialogue because I struggled to find a balance between loosely generic and revealing enough, and Tyr's interactions so largely depend on who he is interacting with. A specific background to work from would benefit that exercise a lot, so let's see if I can work through a few ideas.

Probably easiest to adapt would be an Alliance Alert recruitment, likely provided by Lana or Theron directly if I could so indulge, but likely primarily as an asset for Admiral Aygo. Assuming he still was going by Cipher Nine (or some moniker of Cipher, to accommodate an Imperial Agent as the PC), this would assume you've run into him as one of Lana's contacts during the Shadow of Revan arc. In short, a Commander's theoretical history would thus, possibly, entail:

Cipher Nine was officially loaned to the Revanite investigation following the offensives on Korriban and Tython. Infiltration of Republic space revealed SIS Agent Theron Shan's investigations and he was a connector agent between Shan and Beniko on Manaan. He exercises caution with a Republic hero, but otherwise expresses the belief that the overall threat of the Revanites is far greater than factional differences.

Officially, Nine was disavowed and his clearances and protections from the Ministry of War struck during the investigation, sending him underground with Beniko, Shan, Jakarro, and D4 until Rishi. He's quite cooperative with a Republic hero on Yavin IV, though may be particularly cautious around a Sith.

He's met again on Ziost, having assumed Command of Sith Intelligence under Lana. He's no time nor interest in any factional or belief differences during this operation and will remark sharply if the PC speaks against Theron.

His activities during the 5 year gap for the Outlander would likely have still seen him working relatively closely with Lana and following her out of Sith Intelligence. During the course of operations either monitoring Republic space or investigating Zakuul, they may have lost contact, hence an Alliance Alert post Chapter 9. Tyr could be recruited to the Alliance thus by any class or faction, ultimately saboteur or not. Nine won't leave the Alliance regardless of the Commander's choices on Iokath or Ossus and onward, but he may be asked about returning to Sith Intelligence, to which he'll remark that his loyalty lies with the Alliance now. To a Republic on non-Sith Commander, he may express a mild distaste for Sith politics and mildly comment that he doubts the Empire has changed that much.

It would, however, be completely possible that Nine would saboteur against the Commander if they were an Imperial loyalist. He may grow suspicious of a Republic saboteur, but the game hasn't finish its trajectory with that arc, so where that'd all ultimately lead, I'm not sure.

A Republic Commander has the potential to coax him into revealing his history as a double agent for the Strategic Information Service. Appropriately encouraged, he can express gratitude for the Commander's work and for finally offering him an exit out of the Empire's shadow.

He could likely be found either in the main operations room, datapad in hand, or at the far end of the Military hangar by some of the Alliance ships overlooking the Commander's docking area.

Paring him off as a class companion is... hmmm. He might make an interesting later-comer to the Smuggler's crew with background as a, in this case, successfully defected Cipher now employed by the Republic SIS, possibly with some friction based on his loose-leash habits developed under the autonomy afforded to an Imperial Intelligence Cipher operative. Tyr would be deeply interested in such a plot of corruption and betrayal as is uncovered to be the case with Darmas Palleran and Senator Dodonna. Adaptable, driven, and loyal to the Republic without being so righteous about it that they'd never get along, the ex-Cipher would certainly see the value in a network of underworld contacts to get work done that the red tape of bureaucracy just doesn't always get to - in a timely manner, at least.

Given Imperial history and conflict on Balmorra, I'd be favorable to saying a Smuggler could encounter him there, using his knowledge of Imperial protocols to weaken the Empire's grip on the planet. A history of infiltration work would lend him well to the Smuggler's purpose there, butttt it does bump against Akaavi's entrance and I don't know if I could rob Smugglers of their Mando, lol.

Considering the SIS is aware of the White Maw, we could table arguments to introduce him on Hoth as part of efforts there. Tyr would be aware of the value the Republic and Empire place on the ships lost there and he's about 500 times more likely to be directly helpful to the Smuggler's cause than Guss, lmao. It'd take a bit of reworking the Hoth storyline for Smuggler, but I'm sure we can find a reasonable trail of events that may have led him into an operation to infiltrate the White Maw and act as a contact planet-side. With little trouble still with swapping dialects, he's introduced solely as an SIS operative, and I'd say if you want drama, let them have a three-way clash between the Smuggler's goal, the pirates, and Imperial forces (this happens... somewhere on Hoth already, I'm sure, but where??? I'm blanking atm) or save it for part of Darmas's scheme on Corellia. More casually, it may be possible to coax it out of him during companion conversations - possibly a "how'd you end up on Hoth/in the SIS anyway?" based one.

And also, we're not cowards, so I'd say he could absolutely have a romance for a so-inclined Smuggler. Tyr likely hangs out in the lounge area, probably leaning against a wall, around the Smuggler's holo because I'd have a thing against hiding him in the engine area like Guss, lmao.

If questioned about his loyalties, Tyr will definitely lean into Republic support, regardless of whether his past of defection is revealed, though he won't necessarily pressure the Smuggler either way. He can understand and possibly even respect them prioritizing their own interests first - he'd believe they could still get along well enough and help each other out; he agrees to help the Smuggler track down Rogun on the interest of keeping an eye on such powers in the galaxy and what it might imply for the war. Who knows? Maybe he's even there to keep tabs on the Smuggler, too. The Smuggler may teasingly suggest this as a flirt, to which Tyr just as teasingly deflects from saying for certain, though they may also merely inquire or accuse him of spying on them, to a calm supposition that it wouldn't be improbable or a shorter defense that such measures may be necessary, respectively. I'd probably most like to see his companion story once again revolve around that defection, so you could probably love or hate him for "not being upfront" with you, but also because Dorne's is so damn good and I think we need more of it, hehe. Because I highly doubt he's run into exclusively positive reception in the SIS and going "off the books" like this to join the Smuggler may put him in hot water and lead to an awkwardly interrupted holocall with SIS brass where a Smuggler might be able to defend his actions or brusquely inquire what he's up to/what trouble he's created for himself. As a little easter egg, there's got to be at least one even throwaway line about playing Centran Sabacc sometime together just because I can, lol.

He'd sort of be a give what you get with the Smuggler - if the Captain is standoffish and snippy, expect Tyr to be short, blunt, and unfavorable in return, though always short of name-calling. He's a professional, after all.

He could ultimately still be recruited by any class later in KOTFE. A character that did not romance him in the class story may have the option to do so upon his reunion.

I did also somewhat consider a similar background, but plugged into the Bounty Hunter story, but the Hunter still largely operates within Imperial space and if Tyr's exiting Intelligence, he'd like to put as many parsecs between him and Imperial banners as possible. He'd probably strike a much better balance for respect for more shoot first, ask questions later methods than the current team make-up, however, so I'd still consider it. He wouldn't be so fussed about keeping their hands clean to act so overly finished with the Bounty Hunter on so many DS choices that it seems like the rest of the crew finds a bit excessive, but he's also not just a lawless brutish extreme like Skadge. He could even likely take Skadge's place as the Belsavis recruit, quite possibly after being one of Zale's ferried prisoners after possible capture by the Republic as an Imperial operative. Tyr's always had a dark-realist sense of humor about vacation stays owed to him on Belsavis or in Shadow Town after his work as a Cipher, after all. In exchange for protection of his previous identities, Tyr could be coaxed to join the Hunter's crew. I'd even probably leave him in Skadge's place in that middle area before the Hunter's bridge, lol. It's a good little hidey hole for him. Idk if he'd go for a romance with the Hunter though.

What do y'all think? Would you rather see him on the BH or Smuggler crew? xD

[rize-is-writing]

Hii! I hope your matchups are still open! If so, I would like to request one for bsd and Genshin ( if you only do one per matchup then I prefer bsd ^^). (By the way, if my English is a bit bad, it’s bcs its not my first language. So sorry!)

Im an INFP, cancer, bisexual woman. I’m 5’7 (i think lol, in meters I’m 1,71m), I have purple hair in a tomboyish sidetails hairstyle and I’m a bit chubby. I am not a minor.

Usually I really try to talk to people when I first meet them, but it’s pretty hard for me because I tend to shut off in situations that I haven’t prepared myself for or where I’m not comfortable with. But when I like someone and want to be friends (or when I’m friends) with them, I’m really intense (ig I don’t know how to describe it), loud, and excited (which at times can be a bit much for people, so I tend to try and not do that a lot)

I’d like to say I’m a warm person, I love to tell stories to people and I love being around the people I love. But I really like to be on my own too, after a day with talking to people I adore to just close myself off and to do something on my own.

I like people who give the same energy that you give them back. I’m pretty sensitive with like how people give their energy back (bdkabdks idk if this makes sense) and so if someone that I just met doesn’t look happy if I’m talking to them or if they don’t really pay attention I will get really nervous and I would be scared to talk to them.

My hobbies are: Gaming, drawing and swimming. I’m super interested in animals and space, and I rlly love watching documentaries about those things ! I also really love supernatural things/shows (although I don’t believe in the supernatural)

My dislikes are: Running, sweating (it’s so gross and you get like icky from it and euehgghhhhh) people that smile to your face and then shit about you behind your back. I hate the last one the absolute most, like if you hate me then at least show it and don’t pretend to like me.

Well,, that’s all!! I hope you have an amazing day/night and thank you in advance <333

I found your match! Come to meet them, c'mon c'mon!

Give this boy all the love you have!

Atsushi might be a bit stiff at first, but don't worry! He'll warm up soon, just needs to get used to the possible attention as he isn't very used on receiving positive ones. But when he gets used to it, I'm of the opinion he becomes pretty affectionate himself, not clingy but responds well to the affection, with a hug, or kiss on the forehead or pats on the head. Who knows, who knows. Not me!

He is usually pretty quiet while you talk, but no problem! He is definitely listening. He simply wishes to listen and let you say everything you have to say, before giving his own input into it.

Also pretty understanding when you want to be left alone: as long he knows you aren't doing anything dangerous of course. He'll just check on you silently, if you feel comfortable about it! Without saying anything.

(He just gets worried easily)

But if that annoys you, Atsushi will stop of course! Your comfort is his number one priority.

I know, I know. A bit of an odd-ball, isn't she?

But hear me out!

I know her lack of expression and seriousness can be off putting at some at some level, but Shenhe isn't by any mean cold towards you: she is responsive to the attention you give her, and welcomes your energy with open arms. For the lack of expression, she makes it up with her own actions and gestures (the strong must protect the sweet, as some wise man said)

An attentive listener, can be surprisingly partecipative active in the conversation with the questions she makes about what she doesn't understand or doesn't know, pretty sincere with her lack of information, such as astronomy things. Even though she is definitely most curious about animals, knowing her own lifestyle while living into nature, so I think she'll do a lot of questions about animals that don't live in the habitat she did.

She understands better than anyone the need to stay alone for a while. Maybe she too will ask it a few times because of her situation. So she won't press on it, or check too much while that, just waiting for you to come to see her first.