#i was in a state of inspiration more intense than ever before when making these. literally could not stop

[intersexnateriver]

[iniziare]

Consider Yelan's facial expression to be my own in reaction to opinions shared on both X and Tumblr, and I guess I'm in the minority of the 'loud ones', but I'm pretty excited for Natlan since that trailer, actually. The previous teasers left me a little 'eh', but this definitely got my hopes back up, and I'm back in the right spirits for it (and ready to catch some Pokémon.)

Now I wouldn't be me if I didn't touch on the salt that I've seen scattered across the dash, so here I go. Listen, I read people's objections and I see what you're all aiming at, but in that light want to note that it's often incredibly easy to point fingers (arguably too much so) at others while being, quite honestly, hopefully rather aware that many of our own countries, cultures, and its populations across the board (and no, I'm not excluding anyone here) would likely be just as easily guilty as MHY is with these things. And no, I'm not blindly defending them, but I also won't point fingers at only one without pointing them everywhere else as well, including those you might think would 'never do such things', because I'm absolutely certain that they would. /continues on in the tags.

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[hergrandplan]

Girlfriend

This came along a lot quicker than I thought it would but all of a sudden, there it was. This is a little not-5 sentence fic (who else is not surprised?) based on this poll, which was a game created by @saynomorefic ! I went with a more loosely inspired by kind of fic, rather than a straight up line, also because I already had a fic idea for Girlfriend when Girlfriend first came out! Fun fact, actually, it was supposed to be for kinktober lol. Enjoy! 💜

“I just don’t know what to do!” Wille groaned, his head still in his hands like it had been for the past 10 minutes. And, like he had done for the past 10 minutes, Simon continued to rub soothing circles on his back.

“It’s like nothing I ever do is good enough for her, and it stresses me out.”

Simon hummed. “If you want to relax for a bit, I could suck you off,” he then joked.

It was a running gag between them – offering to give each other a hand job or a blow job, just for fun, just because they could joke about that. They’d always been comfortable with each other like that, and Simon loved that they continued to make those jokes even after he’d come out. Besides, Wille was as straight as a pencil; it was all talk. It always was.

But this time, instead of laughing, Wille’s head shot up.

“I’m kidding!” Simon quickly said, maybe for the first time ever. He never actually had to state that before. “I would obviously never want you to cheat on your girlfriend, that’d be ridiculous…”

His voice trailed off, his words faltering.

Because there was something about Wille’s look, that intense stare that had never made Simon squirm before, not until now.

If Simon didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he saw Wille’s eyes dart down to his lips.

But he could sure see Wille swallow.

Wille's eyes found Simon's again, but something had shifted. “What if I don’t want you to be kidding?”

[jujutsukaisenwriting]

Drunk Nanami - Confession

woah, I've been having this idea for a while and felt inspired to write a cute little drabble on drunk Nanami. enjoy! word count: <1000 tags: nanami x reader, fluff

image credit: link

“I wanna pin you to the bed so bad and have my way with you like I’ve been craving for the past fucking year, you absolute disaster to my sanity”.

At first, when you open the text and read it, you can’t quite comprehend the meaning behind these words. Though the text is soaked in not-so-pure intentions of the sender, the wording is weirdly… gentleman’ish. 

Then you finally notice the sender’s name and make a perfect “O” with your mouth.

Kento fucking Nanami? Really?

You would expect a filthy text from Gojo because that’s just something he does. Hell, you’ve even received plenty of dick picks from Toji though you’ve met the guy just once and during that encounter, he was head to toe covered in blood and someone else’s guts. But Nanami?

You stared at your smartphone for a while, not really knowing what to say.

It’s not like you didn’t want it. In fact, the situation was pretty much the opposite: you desired it badly. As soon as you walked in the office one year ago and saw him towering over the coffee machine, adjusting his tie with precise movements, you knew he’d be the death of you. And during this whole year, Nanami was a perfect gentleman to everyone, including you.

It was always “good morning, how are you today?” or “take care, they say it might rain later”. And it was never “hey let’s grab dinner together” or “your ass looks fire in these pants”. Of course, that was part of his charm — but on the other hand, you never knew how he’d react if you ever… tried anything.

The screen lit up with another text.

“Don’t you have anything to say, dollface? Usually your pretty mouth is overworking whenever I look at you in the office. And I bet I can put it to better use than discussion of some dull numbers”.

“Nanami, are you drunk?”, you texted the first thought that came to you and groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

“What if I am?”, the incoming text read. 

And another incoming text, the one that made your heart skip a beat or two.

“Can I come over?”

*** ***

The doorbell rang loudly, announcing his arrival. You cursed under your breath, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t listen. After you took one final deep breath and glanced in the mirror, you went to the door, opening it.

Kento was standing there, in front of you, his usual tie around his neck and his perfectly ironed shirt missing two top buttons and revealing a painfully muscular chest. As soon as you opened, he lifted his gaze, his deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“Damn, you did let me come over”, he smiled and walked casually through the door in your apartment as if he had visited it before. You followed, too dumbfounded to say anything but Kento didn’t give you a chance to even open your mouth. After taking a step or two and hearing you closing the door, he turned around swiftly and threw his arms around you, pulling you close. 

“I’ll devour you”, his lips trailed on your neck, pausing at an earlobe and making your blood boil. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do it”.

“Why didn’t you?”

You somehow managed to ask questions, given the state you were in: pressed to his body, his hands roaming over your waist, back, hips, and hair. Nanami was a starved man, desperate for you, and you felt his intense hunger growing with every second.

“Because I was never 100% sure you’d want it”, he whispered, his lips now mere inches from yours. “Because you are too good for someone like me. Because of a hundred more made-up reasons that I always use when I’m too scared by a good thing”. 

“And now the alcohol made your fears go away”, you chuckled nervously, hypnotized by the look in his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this before. Right now, Nanami was the complete opposite of his usual self. He was… liberated? Was it the right word?

Nanami just sighed, resting his forehead against yours. He smelled wonderfully: rich woody scent mixed with something fresh like pine. The cologne crept in your nostrils, making a steady way towards a secret place in your heart. A place reserved for him only though you both didn’t know it yet.

“Can I ask for something?” He said suddenly, and your heart fluttered. Was he about to kiss you? Did he want to drag you in the bed? Was he interested in your body count?

You tensed up involuntarily, preparing for his question. Kento looked you dead in the eyes, his expression growing a bit more serious and determined.

“Can you… make me a sandwich?”, he asked shyly. “To be honest, I’m starving. Didn’t expect you’d actually invite me over so I was planning to eat at home”.

He chuckled awkwardly, and you burst into genuine laughter, grabbing his forearms and feeling incredibly at ease. So this drunk man who’d been wanting you for a whole fucking year just came in to ask for a sandwich? Wow.

“Yea, I’ll make two”, you wiped tears from your eyes, still giggling.

“Good. And I’ll make us breakfast in the morning”, he gave you a coy smile, his hands still wrapped around you.

“So… you mean you wanna stay over?”

“I wanna stay forever”, he kissed you softly. “If you don’t mind”.

You looked around, noticing how perfectly domestic Nanami looked in your apartment and nodded with a smile.

“Sounds good to me”.

He smiled back, his whole face lightening up. He then leaned in to you with a knowing smile.

“And by the way…”

You raised a brow, intrigued.

“I’m not drunk, sweetheart. Was just pushing my lack and damn, seems like I caught lightning in a bottle”.

[demigoddessqueens]

flower power

Summary: inspired by a scene in the last season of TLOVM. TLOVM and the reader are fighting some enemy in the fae realm and the reader gets thrown off into a patch of strange flowers. Yes, the sex pollen trope!! The enemy vanquished, the team checks in with each other and the reader is unaccounted for. They find them struck with a high fever and in growing agony. All eyes turn to the guys of Vox but the whole team knows of Percy’s long burning rush for the reader. He reluctantly volunteers, reluctantly because he doesn’t want his first time with you to be like this, but he doesn’t want you to suffer/die, obvs.

Read also here ao3

A/n - a million “thank you’s” to @zombiesnips-blog for this request

You had led him away from the group before it got more excruciating than it already was.

When you both got a good ways distance away from the party, you let your inhibitions run wild. All you could see, taste and feel was Percy. You melted into his body as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The more you deepened your kisses, tore at his clothes, Percy felt at odds with himself entirely. He WANTED you, and had been lost in his pathetically yearning thoughts for a while now.

However, this was such unbecoming of a young man raised in such an environment! He already could feel his heart racing when all eyes turned to him about the decision he would make, but now it damn near felt like it would burst out of his chest.

"Nngh...,w-wait! Stop, puh-please! We can't go on like this!"

You stared up in confusion at Percy's outburst as he attempted to make himself seem of good standing and not as a man trying to hide his arousal. But it didn’t stop the guilt he felt when he saw your expression.

It felt distasteful to indulge in such an act, but he couldn’t do this to you! Just abandon you and leave you out to dry in such state.

”Wh-why? What? You don’t want me..?”

He gripped tightly onto your shoulders as you could see the intensity of

“Of course I wanted you! I have since I could remember! But this?! You, me, this, your ‘condition’, and how it’s supposed to—.”

He cut off his stammering with a sharp inhale before he continued.

Cupping his face with your own hand, you placed a gentle kiss along his cheek.

“You deserve better…”

Peppering more along his face, they grew more heated.

“It’s ok, Percy, I trust you…it’s ok with me…”

Your words offered him internal relief for now. If things were different once your….”condition” wore off, then perhaps he could do this in a more intimate setting. You deserved that much at least. He would make good on that promise, but for now, there was no time left but to indulge you.

Already slick from the Fey Wild's pollen, Percy gasped at your arousal. Keeping his hand against your crotch, he began to rub his fingers against you with his hand down your clothes.

The heavy petting didn’t last long before you had him on his back with a sharp “oof!”

Undoing your pants and his, you grabbed his member that was beginning to twitch in your grasp. Slipping inside of you was nothing he had experienced before. So wet and warm, and such a tight heated fit around him.

Even though you were the one compromised, Percy felt his back arch off the ground as he adjusted to you. You undid the front of your shirt as well, just enough to where your breasts were on display.

It was so easy for you to chase after your pleasure, rocking your hips fast and slow as you liked. Just as you achieved one orgasm, another quickly followed you again and again. Beneath you, Percy could feel you pulsating around him. Bless his heart he tried to keep the moans low but there were the rare times you pulled a loud yelp from him when the grip tightened.

The praises and moans were strung with curses, and even if it was so crude, you thought him as ever the considerate lover.

He was a man not used to such outward displays of affections, but even if some straying eyes from his own or the Fey saw you, he wouldn’t give a damn!

What had seemed as a few minutes felt like hours when it was you two together. One orgasm after the other shook both of your bodies until Percy could give no more. He looked entirely spent and was beginning to gather sweat on his brow.

Collapsing into his arms, you could feel the effects slowly diminish from your body. Grateful for the “assistance”, you let yourself relax into him. Percy had you in a weak embrace but still felt his burning infatuation for you.

You both would find your way back to the group, but for now, the quiet moments were enjoyable.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi!!! Huge fan and I hope you had a good day in your part of the world💗💗💗

I was just reading ur period comfort fic with jay and was absolutely inspired with this idea for an (unequivocally self-indulgent) new fic:

what if reader has intense pain on their period (like can’t stand, can barely move, everything hurts/aches etc.) and goes nonverbal when the pain gets too much BUTT reader and jay had an argument before he went on patrol and so reader feels like they can’t call him because he’s still mad at them so reader just sticks it out miserably by themselves. only until jay asks oracle to check on your vitals (because he’s a cute little worry wart and still cares a lot🥰) and sees that you’re heart rate and breath rates are wildly irregular and he rushes home (fuck batman he can finish the job himself HIS BABY IS #1) and sees you bundled up in the covers curled in a ball crying. comfort, apologies, and making up and caretaking ensues!!!

i’m so sorry if this makes no sense or it isn’t something you’re comfortable with (your comfort is #1 bestie)!!!! Also, feel free to modify in any way!!!

SENDING KISSES AND LOVE💅🏾❤️

It makes good sense!! I have no problem writing this ✨

I hope yours is going good as well! It’s a very under weather day for me, so I apologize if this isn’t what you were expecting! ❤️

—

Time written - 1:27 a.m

Tags: Period. Slightly broody Jason. Special guest star menstruation crustacean.

Part 1 in reference

—

Being miserable chased you around like a damn disease today, doing lots of more harm than good.

The kind of pain that left you breathless. An agony so severe you find yourself apologizing to any God that listened, mentally screaming at your body to give you a damn break. It was a miracle how you managed to make it from the kitchen towards your bed, forgetting to get your charging phone from the couch.

Sure, you had your watch. Yes, you had a device nestled in your end table drawer used for emergency calls. Wayne-Tech, Batman related stuff.

You didn’t use it. Either you didn’t have the strength, or too hot-headed, you didn’t reach for a button.

You believed it wasn’t going to be as bad. The cramps you’d get about a week prior before you start weren’t as painful this time. This morning had such high hopes, such high promises for a good day.

It was too early to think too highly about it.

Your body believed it would be funny to fool you, forcing you into this pathetic, crippling state shortly around ten. Rarely would you start at night.

You would’ve thought the blame belonged to someone else, anyone else other than what you experienced now. It felt like your insides were being torn apart by devilish hands, nearly making you ponder the urge to scratch against your own abdomen.

The room was normally cool, but your body was terribly hot. A peculiar shiver brushing down your spine, your susceptible body curled up in a pitiful ball along the mattress.

The house was quiet and empty, save for your choked gasps as you son through this horrible pain. You craved comfort, more comfort than any warm blanket could provide.

The biggest comfort you quietly desired more than ever wasn’t here. It was a miracle that the front door still clung to it’s screwed up hinges after being recklessly slammed shut.

You two argued over cereal, over which take out to get from what restaurant, over celebrity crushes. His side eyes were as dangerous as his criminal bloodlust, but they were always done out of amusing intent.

This time was different. You couldn’t remember when it started, recalling when it ended was now a painfully dulled blur in the back of your head. The argument was nearly verbally severe, with enough yelling to rouse the worry of your neighbors. If they even cared.

No one really does in Gotham these days.

You lay in your pitiful slump in bed for what felt like hours. In your distress, you weren’t aware of your charging phone going off in the living room. Your screen bombarded with texts and still ringing phone calls.

One of Jason’s few reliefs he had was through a distasteful crook on patrols, as violence was a great distraction. On such a slow start, Red Hood was left stalking with his own thoughts, dealing with his temper all alone in the night’s silence.

Just because he was stubborn now, doesn’t mean that he didn’t have his moments of clarity once he caught a break. He sent you a reluctant, one worded sent text at first before rushing on. He couldn’t help but shake off this suspenseful feeling though, like a tense dissatisfaction on his tongue. Was it guilt? Was it shame?

Did he feel sorry for what he basically caused? Did he at least wanna attempt to own up to it?

After ten minutes, he sent another text. Again, he sends another after seven minutes, then another around three. You weren’t answering them at all, which was a little surprising. You believed you held a distasteful quirk about answering texts too fast, which was what Jason adored about you, responding to him in under five minutes. Or ten at most if you were busy.

It always let him know you were never bored of him.

This only made that suspenseful ball in his gut grow a little heavier, so he started to call.

After about three calls, still you didn’t answer. Now that hall grew hotter and hotter.

It makes the most obvious sense that you were still angry at him, but the least you could’ve done was pick up the phone and cussed him out before abruptly hanging up. Or at the very least send his calls to voicemail after a ring or two, but that wasn’t the case,

The longer he stared at his rumbling phone screen, the worse his anxiety began to grow. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The Bats had an auspicious way of knowing if him or anyone else didn’t keep up their patrol routine. Jason put off this thought many times, giving less of a fuck now as he rushed home.

“Where the hell is your phone??” Came his booming question once he enters the bedroom, noticeably breathing a bit heavy from his rushed pace.

Upon your failure to answer in your trembling state, cowering under your blankets, you hear his heavy boots quickly approach the side of the bed. Opening your teary eyes, you see two milky mask sockets staring you down, still clutching his own phone in hand.

Jason would’ve questioned you over how many times he’s had to call, over how many texts he sent. He could’ve, but he didn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice changed from roughly arrogant to gentle softness while pulling off his mask, relieving you of that annoying heavy breathing behind the barrier.

Because everything fucking hurts, asshole.

If you were still angry at him, it would’ve been a shouting match all over again. No, all that’s left now is physical and mental pain.

Without another word, he rummages through both your drawers looking for something. Cursing when he couldn’t find it, he turns towards the closet, reaching up ahead on the top shelves until he found what he was looking for.

He leaves the room, making your sensitive mind wonder if he had the gall to up and leave again. Especially knowing the debilitating state you were in.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The faint chime of the microwave echoed from the kitchen.

You wondered wrong.

Jason returns, pulling the blanket back just enough to expose your torso. Pulling up your shirt just enough, he proceeds to apply a warm, heavenly weighted plush stuffy along your tummy.

A chorus of euphoria washes of your tense body, your unknowingly clenched jaw finally relaxing. You whimper out in temporary relief at this beautiful sensation, the application of warmth promising a slow, eventual comfort that would easy your agonizing pain.

“When did you start?” He asks, but you don’t answer. More like you can’t, really.

“Can’t talk, huh?” His forehead slowly settles along your temple, exhaling through his nose. Pure blooded guilt mixed with cold hard sympathy in his system, making his heart beat heavily as he fully considers your pain.

“God, don’t pull an idiot move babe,” he murmurs against your cheek, his forehead settling along your head.

“That’s my job. You were right about that.”

You were stubborn, but not that hurtful towards the man you love. Unless he did something where it was really necessary.

Jason remained by your side until you were comfortable enough to sit up, never minding having to warm up the heating pad one more time. He doesn’t say much after his last words as he brings you a calorie rich snack and some pain medication, sitting idly by while opening a water bottle for you.

He gets you to a hot shower after the painkillers slowly prove they’re kicking in.

Fresh clothes were piled on the bathroom counter for you after the seething hot shower, consisting of one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts you didn’t care much for.

Dinner, or an incredibly early breakfast, was one of your favorite cup noodles. Quick, hot and easy, so you could take a strong sleep medication and rest this horrible night away.

Jason by now was unbearably silent, too silent. Occasionally, he asked if you were okay or if the cup was too hot to hold while you slurped your noodles. Red Hood became a quiet, doting dog, keeping behind you as you shuffle to bed, still dressed in his gear.

It was only after you were settled back into bed in your much better state did Jason decide to finally relax, comfortable enough to take off his gear.

You were left watching as he turned around, pulling off his taunt, black shirt he wore under all that armor nearly every night. A faint hiss pushes through his nose as the fabric tugs on his freshly bandaged gash, just shy from his right shoulder blade.

“I didn’t mean it,” you exhale, tears dribbling over the bridge of your nose. “You’re not stupid, Jason. I didn’t mean it.”

He still keeps quiet, his head slightly turning as he acknowledges the pain you were still in. He doesn’t blame you for your anger, it just makes him feel more stupid for being mad at you.

He kept getting hurt, and you always took care of him. Sometimes, he kept getting hurt too much. You couldn’t help getting more and more worried for his safety while he chooses to shrug off the pain.

Now here he stood, with a wounded shoulder, wounded pride and a trembling girl needing his support now more than ever.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did, sweetheart.” Jason sighs after crawling into bed beside you, making sure you remained ownership of all thick blankets.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispers, peering down at you with sympathetic eyes. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

Your heart nearly melts then and there, a lingering stress vanishing from your mind for now. That’s all you asked for out of the entire argument from earlier. You knew his job was dangerous, but all you asked out of him was to be more cautious about his surroundings, to not be as reckless.

You could only help bandage and kiss his wounds so much. You never minded, but him coming home with at least three harsh gashes from possibly infectious blades put a toll on your hormonal stability.

“That’s all I wanted,” you gently say in return, accompanied with a soft sniffle.

Jason smiles before scooting just a little closer, proceeding to hold you with his good arm. A content cloud of warmth invaded your area, keeping you feeling calm and satisfied as your tired eyes mindlessly trail along his silvery autopsy scar.

“You can forgive me later,” He muffles against your cheek, lacing your skin with various gentle kisses. “Get some sleep, Hood’s gotcha now.”

You close your eyes, hiding the dramatic roll that proceeded shortly after.

“Also,” he piques in his murmur, a hint of cheekiness invading his tone of voice. “Kinda know of other ways to help with the pain.”

“Jason.” You groan with a light grimace.

He smirks a bit, only growing from the faint crinkle in your eyes and refrained smile. Just the reaction he wanted.

—

Had to throw this in 🦀

[flowerhrt]

crave | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: daisy looks back on her life and your relationship after finally getting to marry you.

warnings: mentions of overdose, alcohol consumption, mentions of a past addiction, niccolo argento (his name deserves a warning).

a/n: daisy is a lesbian but the reader's sexuality isn't specified. i used the dates and ages from the book.

word count: 2.3k

the clock read 2:48 am when daisy finished writing her new song. most people would think she was crazy for staying up all night the day after her wedding, but she had never been this inspired before. 

daisy jones got married to her wife y/n l/n on july 17, 2015. a month after same-sex marriage was legalized across the united states and the same date which marked her 36 year anniversary of being clean. her life changed on that date in 1979, and she wanted to celebrate it by getting married that exact same day and month. 

she never thought this was possible. being able to get married to the love of her life, coming out to the entire world, and most importantly, still being alive at 64 years old. she didn’t think she’d ever make it past 30.

“daisy, aren’t you tired? it’s almost 3 am.” the singer looked up from her place on the couch at the sound of her wife’s voice. my wife, she smiled at the thought. 

“i’m fine, my angel. i just had to finish writing this idea for a song i’ve had stuck in my head all day.” she answered. “so you were thinking about music during our ceremony? ouch.” y/n said, placing a hand on her chest, feigning hurt. 

“oh, stop it!” daisy couldn’t help but giggle at her wife’s words. “you know i didn’t mean it like that. i meant that you inspired me to write a new song. i know, this isn’t news to you, but i could write an entire song about you eating a damn sandwich. you’re my favorite person to write about.” 

“what? i thought that was billy dunne.” daisy laughed at the statement, not before sticking out her tongue at her. that was one of the singer’s favorite things about y/n, the fact that even though both of them were well into their sixties, they still acted like two lovesick women in their twenties. 

y/n stayed quiet for a little while after that, just lovingly staring at her. the intense but loving stare made daisy feel nervous, not in a bad way, of course. it made her feel the same knot in the stomach she felt when they met for the first time. it was love. she was feeling love. 

“what is it?” she asked, her face beginning to flush the way it always does whenever her wife, the most beautiful person alive, according to the redhead, looks intensely at her. 

“nothing” y/n answered. “it’s just that seeing you write at 3:00 am is taking me back to all those years ago.” 

daisy let out a soft sigh at the memory of their first years together. when y/n would wake up in the middle of the night to find daisy sitting on the floor, guitar in hand, scribbling new lyrics she had just come up with. it was as if she had traveled back in time, after all, both of them have been in this situation lots of times, but she swore it felt as if they were back in the 70s again.

“well, to make you even more nostalgic, the song i wrote is about that. not about me ruining your sleep schedule, but about missing those times.” she slowly strummed her guitar. “is it okay if i sing it to you?”

her wife took a seat next to the singer and placed a red lock of hair behind daisy’s ear. “it is more than okay, unless it makes me cry, because if that’s the case… then it is not.” 

daisy pecked y/n’s lips and answered with a quick “no promises!” before taking a deep breath and starting to sing.

i can’t wait to memorize this day 

oh, a picture could not contain the way it feels

she smiled as she sang those lyrics. it’s true, she thinks. this is probably the happiest she has ever been, she used to believe people were faking it when they said their wedding day was the best day of their lives, but it turns out they were right. maybe the reason she didn’t believe it is because her last marriage was the worst period of her life.

 sure, she married an italian prince. but was she happy? fuck no. she only did it to find a way out of the hole she dug for herself during the recording of aurora. when she wanted to feel special. when she was only drawn to niccolo argento because he was drawn to her. when her addiction was taking over her life. when she didn’t know it was fine to fall in love with women.

you say, "live in the present" 

i'm already dreaming of how it begins 

when she was little, she always dreamed of having a big wedding with a rich, respectful man. she used to think that was the only way she’d finally get her parents to be proud of her. it took a lot of therapy and self-acceptance for her to finally let go of that dream. she decided she was going to marry for herself and the woman she loved, not her parents.

 the singer was so happy she couldn’t stop crying when it was announced she could finally get legally married to her long-term girlfriend. it may have taken over 30 years, but she was finally married to the love of her life.

and trying to savor the moment

but i know the feeling will come to an end

this is a problem daisy has always dealt with, being scared of people leaving and using her. she was a teenager the first time an older man dragged her into his room and made her have sex with him, he used her and then told her to leave. it’s a pattern she grew used to. get used and then abandoned. it was a shock when she met y/n and realized she actually cared about her, about what she thought, about what she had to say, about her music. 

y/n always reassured her she would never leave, even when things got rough, she always stood by her side. daisy tried to self-sabotage herself several times, always thinking about how she wasn’t worth the love she was getting, but even through all of that, her wife never abandoned her. never used her. never judged her.

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

crave, crave, to do it again

it was difficult, it really was. being part of the biggest band in the world and being a woman dating another woman was frightening. but looking back on it now, if she knew all that fear would turn into happiness and she’d end up marrying y/n, she would do it all over again.

just for a second it all felt simple

i'm already missing it

despite all of the fear, a part of her enjoyed the simplicity of their first years together. when they would meet up in hidden places to make out or when they would book hotel rooms adjacent to each other, just to end up sneaking in the middle of the night into the other’s room and sharing a bed. she misses the adrenaline of keeping their relationship a secret, of always having to come up with an excuse during interviews as to why she isn’t dating any famous man.

daisy couldn’t give less of shit about them. the thought of dating a man made her skin crawl. plus, she was dating the most perfect woman alive, how could they think she’d ever look at someone else?

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again.

daisy almost stopped singing at the sight of her wife in front of her. the singer could tell she was trying to fight back tears, she was about to put her guitar down but she knew y/n would get mad at her for stopping. she always tells her to “never stop singing, not even when you see me crying and being a mess. because i’ll cry more if you stop doing what you love.”

so she continued.

i romanticize even the worst of times 

when all it took to make me cry was being alive

daisy hit rock bottom a year before meeting y/n. her life was a mess, her addiction kept getting worse, her ex-husband was a fucking douchebag who didn’t care if she overdosed while on tour, her parents didn’t give her a single thought, and she was trying to understand why she didn’t feel anything towards men but kept wanting the same type of relationship simone had with her girlfriend. 

she wouldn’t go a day without crying or downing an entire bottle of alcohol. it was the worst time of her life, but for some reason she looks back on it fondly. her years of therapy, meditation and healing helped her realize she wouldn’t have the life she currently has if she hadn’t survived those times.

look up and see a reflection 

of someone who never gave way to the pain

daisy looked around their house as she sang those lyrics. their home. it has some plants sitting in the living room, a few framed photos of the band, of her and simone, and of her and y/n placed around the walls. they made sure to leave some space for their wedding photos. she still couldn’t believe it. she lives in a beautiful home with her wife, and the world supports them. they don’t hate them or are repulsed by the thought of them being gay. 

after all, the world could never hate daisy jones.

what if i told 'em that now that i'm older 

there isn't a moment that i'd wanna change?

she thought she was going to break down crying halfway through their wedding ceremony. it’s fucking crazy how far life got her, she went from hiding her sexuality to inviting all of her friends to see them get married. the years have passed and they’re all old now, but the six and simone are still her best friends, seeing all of them together, celebrating their love, made her feel like the luckiest person alive.

now i crave, crave to do it again, all again

crave, crave to do it again

just for a second it, all felt simple

i'm already missing it 

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

y/n l/n and daisy jones came out in 1997. it was all over the news, they revealed they’ve been dating since 1977, making it 20 years of keeping their relationship a secret. the only ones who knew about it were their close friends and some of y/n’s family members. the couple were rumoured to just be best friends who live together, but the two of them got tired of having to hide from the world. 

any second, feel the present

future and the past connecting

any second, feel the present

future and the past connecting

daisy closed her eyes as she remembered the day she first met her wife. it was 1977 and she was at simone’s after-show party, she had just recently come out as a lesbian to her best friend, and simone thought it would be nice to have her meet some new people. both her and y/n were closeted during that time, but that didn’t mean y/n wasn’t dating anyone previously. daisy noticed her from afar and thought she was the most breathtaking woman she had ever seen, something she still thinks to this day, and decided to walk up to her. she didn’t know if she was gay too, so she made sure to only make small talk with the girl. 

they were talking about their favorite records when a random girl daisy had never seen before pulled y/n towards her. she saw them having an argument and how the girl kept touching y/n’s arm, something that would make y/n turn her head to see if anyone had noticed. they had a heated conversation until the girl decided to storm out and leave y/n alone. 

when she got back to daisy and anxiously said “i know you saw us, it’s not what you think.” daisy made sure to make her feel better by saying “all i think is that you’re way too cool for that chick.. and i know a thing or two about not being with the right girl.” 

in that moment, a small understanding passed between them. they only gave each other a small smile before continuing their conversation about music.

crave, crave to do it again, all again 

crave, crave to do it again,

just for a second, it all felt simple 

i'm already missing it

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

daisy finished singing and rapidly put her guitar down to be able to give her wife a hug. she loved her so much, she was so thankful for her existence and life together. sometimes she still wonders what would’ve happened if she had never gone up to her that night in 1977.

daisy broke the hug and looked into her eyes. “i would tell you i love you so much” y/n started 

“but…” daisy interrupted. 

“but you made me cry and that’s not fair.” her wife continued. the singer playfully rolled her eyes at the sentence. “i did tell you i didn’t promise anything.” she argued.

“but fine, is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” daisy asked. y/n hummed and acted as if she was in deep thought before saying “a kiss from my wife would make anything better.”

daisy answered with a “who am i to say no to my favorite girl?” 

and kissed her wife.

[battydora]

note: sekido brainrot, i have no control

cw: nsfw , minors dni!! , no plot , gn reader (afab) , adult reader , switch sekido (mean dom → sub bottom) , switch reader (power bottom → mean dom) , kinda ooc , reader implied to be human , cursing , consensual , pet names (g.) , foreplay , kitchen sex , dry humping , early orgasm , degradation (g.) , slut shamming (g.) , barely proof read

edit: this was suppossed to be longer but i ran out of inspiration before s3 ended yikes. edit 2: PFF i posted this so quickly that i didn't realize the last line didn't make any sense LMFAO i changed it but that stays between us shhhh

wc: 1.1k

nsfw under the cut, minors dni

it's only a normal night of yours, you just finished doing all your chores for the day but yet you decided to prepare yourself a snack before going to bed. you're in the kitchen as you mixed all the ingredients together to make your sweet, humming a song to yourself to keep it entretaining. it's all calm and quiet around but a cold and frightening sensation runs through your entire body when you feel a huge hand pressing your back, you jump out of horror, mortified at the thought of someone breaking into your home and trying to attack you, you instinctively turn around and all your worries vanish in a heavy sigh when you notice it's just sekido.

"oh my fucking god, sekido, you scared the shit out of me. i didn't hear you arrive" you say, a laugh escaping your lips to relieve the scare the demon gave you.

it is a common thing for sekido to sneak into your home looking for you making absolutely no noise, his sneaking skills are impressive and startled you more than once. you notice how he doesn't say anything so you rise an eyebrow to him, slightly confused, his expression is shown to be enraged like it normally is, that furious frown and twisted grimace of his always showing his consistent state of rage. however, this time seems more intense and angrier. what can -now- be bothering him today? before you can ask him, the hand resting on your back pushes you forward to the counter in a slow yet strong movement, his hand still feeling heavy against your back, exerting force to avoid you from moving. before you can call his name in a questioning manner, his shaft presses roughly against your ass, all the dots connect when you feel his cock hard as ever against your body and realize, he is turned on.

sekido isn't verbal, he rarely tells you he is in the mood, you have to figure it out on your own or, if he is extremely needy, he just starts physical touch with you himself. the latter being the case today. he waits for a concrete answer before making any other move, as if he isn't already clear that he is horny as hell. you chuckle, allowing yourself to totally lay on the counter after pushing away the tools and the unfinished desert to rest your body comfortably. you look at sekido from the corner of your eye with a playful smile.

"my quiet puppy is needy, huh? alright, go on, let your frustrations out~" you hear him grunt at your comment, then his fingers wrap around your hips and start grinding against you, he presses his shaft roughly against you, as hard as he can getting that friction you both love so much.

this kind of foreplay always seems to arouse sekido since the more he continues, the more needy and noisy he gets. he continues his doing with enthusiasm, you feel his nails digging roughly into the skin of your clothed waist. he is desperate, you hear him grunt and struggle behind you.

"ngh~.. fuck.." you hear him groan, he stops for a second to get his kimono between his underwear and your clothed ass out of the way, increasing the closeness, cloth by cloth.

he continues to dry hump enthusiastic grunting and moaning under his breath, he sounds already so aroused and lost in the moment you wander why is he being louder than usual. but before you can even come to a conclusion, he releases a loud groan, hands gripping firmly your waist, you look at him in shock, it can't be... did he just...?

"did you just cum?" you ask in shock still, a small and puzzled smile forming on your lips and widen eyes. his fanged grimace remains and the enfuriated look on his eyes too, however he doesn't respond, his face just turns red as he recovers some breath, staring away from your astonished glare.

you decide to confirm your thought so you lift your torso from the kitchen table to look down at his underwear. you notice a stain soaking his clothing, your eyes widen in surprise and amusement even more.

"wow, you never came this fast, i thought this was only foreplay, you disgusting bitch" your attitude changes into something more shady and playful, your rude words disguising behind your sweet tone of voice.

"who are you calling a bitch?! i swear i'm going to-!"

"what? punish me?" you cut him off suddenly "i don't think someone like you can do that. look at you, already a mess, i didn't even have to do anything~"

he grunts enfuriated at your statements, each insult hitting the dirtiest part of his dark being. he pulls apart and covers his crotch with his clothes again, hiding himself from you as embarassment washed over him in an instant.

"daw, don't be shy, i already saw how fucking dirty you are for me, no need to hide it from me" you say, now walking to him, he steps back a little and holds onto his kimono when you start fighting to uncover his stained pants.

he is physically stronger than you, so you knew he gave in on purpose when you got to move the clothing covering his shaft and you're surprised to see another erection popping through his underwear again.

"oh my god, you're hard as a rock again. what's gotten into you today, sekido?" you grab his hips and lead him to the counter you were laying on seconds ago and push him to it facing you, pressing your bodies together and kissing him hungrily.

sekido holds back any complaints and kisses you back, hungry hands sliding through your body, landing on your ass, pressing you tighter against him for you to feel how hard he is again as he squeezed your butt desperately. your hands wander through his body and undo the belt holding his kimono together, to then get rid of it. his clothes pool around his feet the moment you pull apart. you look him in the eyes as he pants and recovers some breath, licking his upper lip, missing your taste.

you smirk at him, amused for how hungry he is for you right now, your hand lands directly on his cock as the other presses harshly on his chest, keeping him in place as you begin to jerk him off. he throws his head back, muffling all the noises he can, biting his lip so hard it could leave a bruise.

"come on, moan outloud like the deprived slut you are."

pinned post | masterlist | rules

thanks for reading!

[thedragonqueen1998]

Got struck with inspiration and imma make it a problem for you guys. XD

Okay, turned out a bit more.. graphic?(honestly can't tell if it is or not, so uh, if descriptions of pain and semi explicit birth bothers you, please be careful?) than i originally meant to, but the words once again flowed out and i do not control them, they control me. XD Put it behind a Read more, to prevent a huge text wall. ^^

So, what if: After the Temple of Solomon, Altaïr went about the usual, until he starts getting really hungry. It is intense and even if he satisfies it, it returns just a few hours later. He never had much money as Al Mualim and the Bureaus provided the food he would need, so eventually he starts stealing food to satisfy the hunger. Obviously due to all the eating, Altaïr gains weight. And alot of it. He can hide it easily, thanks to the assassin robes, but he worries. His stomach is getting strangely bloated and he starts having weird cramps. They feel like nothing he has ever experienced, but Al Mualim is still mad at him for failing to retrieve the Apple, so going to him and confessing that he is sick would spell disaster. He can ignore them.

That is until he starts noticing he is getting tired more easily and his hips are hurting. Then the cramps starts getting worse and happen within hours of each other. Altaïr decides that after the assassination of Majd Addin and freeing the fellow brother, when he leaves the city, he will find a medicine woman to find out what ails him. He can ignore the cramps and pain until then.

Malik has other plans unfortunately. "Altaïr, you don't look well. Rest here for the night, you can leave in the morning. .... That is an order Novice."

Altaïr cannot go against the order of a Dai, so his search for a healer will have to wait.

'Dammit Malik', Altaïr cannot help to think as the night falls and the cramps get closer together. He cannot fall asleep because of them and he is filled with restless energy. He fills the time with walking back and forth in the tiny courtyard until the pain gets too bad. Then he rests by the fountain, gripping the edge of it and rocks back and forth on his knees, hoping the pain stops.

It gets worse. He cannot stop the grunts and groans of pain escaping him. Malik of course wakes up and walks in to see Altaïr in this pitiful state. 'Hah, this should please him. The mighty Altaïr brought low by pain.' Altaïr thinks, but knows if he opens his mouth, he will start screaming.

Malik doesn't mock him though. "Altaïr! What is happening? Are you in pain?"

Altaïr can only nod, fighting down the screams in his throat. Malik takes that as his cue to start stripping Altaïr of his clothes, to try and see what ails him.

Once his torso is revealed, Malik freezes and stares at his belly. Altaïr finally gets a look at it after the pain started and the sight scares him. It is the size of a watermelon and it's mass hangs very low, much lower than it was when Altaïr looked at it two days before. He grunts in pain as another cramps hits and he freezes. That... was the feeling of something... sliding down inside him. He can see his stomach is even lower now.

"Malik, i think there's something inside me. And it's coming out." Altaïr grits out between his teeth.

That gets Malik out of his shock and he scrambles to get Altaïr out of his remaining clothes. When he is divested of the final article of clothing he can finally feel it. Some fluid running down his thighs, unnoticed until the cold night air chilled it.

Altaïr is struck with the great urge to push. He is embarrassed of what it would do, but he is starting to become afraid. Afraid like he has not been in years. And so he bears down, rocking faster while screaming between his teeth. He is aware of Malik saying encouragements, but they fade out in the rush of blood in Altaïr's ears.

He is not sure of how long it lasts, but by the end he feels the thing inside him sliding further down. He has to stop to breathe, gasping for air, but quickly he continues pushing. The pattern is repeated one, two, three times. Again and again. Until the object is stretching his rim. The burn is horrific and the pain unimaginable. He hears Malik yelling to keep pushing. Altaïr is looking up at the moon overhead, through the grate of the Bureau when he does the final, big push and feels the object slide out of him.

He shudders and simply collapses onto the floor from the relief. He gasps for breath, looking at the sky without seeing it. He hears Malik moving and takes a big breath before asking the question he does not really want answered: "What came out of me?"

Malik is silent for a minute before saying something that changes Altaïr's life forever:

"It's an egg."

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

Malik is confused. When he woke up to grunts of pain coming from the courtyard, he thought Altaïr might have hidden an injury or something of the like. So he brings medical supplies to aid the stupid Novice who clearly thought hiding injuries was a clever idea. What he finds instead is a clearly distressed Altaïr rocking back and forth on his knees, his hands gripping the fountain like his life depended on it. Maybe it did?

After scrambling to help him with his clothes, trying to spot any blood, he is shocked by the sight of Altaïr's stomach. The image of it somehow is reminiscent of the mares before they give birth to their foals and Malik shakes the thought out if his head. Altaïr is clearly a man and such notions are impossible.

They were, until Altaïr the overachiver proved nature itself wrong and not only gave birth, but to an egg! Wait, is it even birth if he laid the egg? Malik shakes his head. Defining exactly what happened is not as important as finding out how this could happen.

"Altaïr, you have not slept with anyone? ... or anything?" He asks not for the first time.

"No."

Is the simple answer he is given again. Altaïr is not even paying attention to Malik. Only staring at the egg in his hands. It is a beautiful golden colour, shimmering in the candle light as Altaïr gently turns it around, inspecting it. It is an almond shape and luckily for Altaïr at that. It is as wide as three large fists at the widest and Malik privatly despairs that if it was the rounder shape of a chicken egg, Altaïr might have perished in the effort to expel it from his body. It had taken close to an hour before Altaïr managed to push it out, so anything wider or bigger would have been the death of the man.

Malik can only stare as Altaïr holds the thing that could have easily killed him up to the light, letting out a little gasp as he does.

"Look." Altaïr says, clearly wanting to show Malik something about the egg. He gets closer and he sees it. Lit up from behind by the candle, one can see what is in the egg.

A human shape curled up in a fetal position, with what seems to be a tail framing it. Something is coming out of the head, curling around it. Horns? Malik is not sure. Looking at it makes him uneasy, but when he looks at Altaïr, all he can see is gentle wonder ..... and what can only be described as motherly love.

"Look at his heart, it's beating."

Malik looks again and yes, he can see the things heart beating. He should probably take the egg and destroy it, before it can hatch and let it's demonic content out into the world. But looking at Altaïr, he cannot do it to the man. The feelings on his face is love. It might be the love for a child, but it must be similiar to the love for a brother, for seeing it on Altaïr's face brings memories of Kadar to mind. Altaïr might be the reason why he lost his brother, but now that he is not blinded by sorrow, he can tell he would not wish it upon anyone. Not even his brothers killer.

Altaïr brings the egg back from the candle light and cradles it like a babe. Eyes misty and with a gently smile he says:

"I'm going to call you Desmond."

----------

So this is the end. Idk how long i went at writing it, but i like it. Pretty proud of myself. ^^ This is an idea i have had for a long time, in a similiar vein as the Virgin Birth!Desmond idea i commented on one of Teecupangels posts. But this one originally came from the Deathclaw idea someone had and just the idea that Altaïr came away from the temple with a little suprise, unkown to him, hit me in the head with a frying pan. XD

So, idk how long the Hunt for the Nine lasted, but if it isn't several weeks/months, we can just wave away Altaïr's laying of the egg only a few days/weeks later as a result of it being an egg. Most of the waiting time is in the incubation period anyway. So, Altaïr is ofc very afraid of what would happen if anyone finds out about the egg, especially Al Mualim. So he begs Malik to take care of it, despite it breaking his heart to leave the egg and not let it rest against his stomach in a warm nest of pillows and blankets. Malik agrees because the sight of Altaïr crying is too weird and hits too close to home for him to say no.

Eventually the whole thing with Al Mualim and the Apple happens and Altaïr can finally have the egg in Masyaf, in a warm and safe nest. Only Malik and Rauf knows about it and helps Altaïr hide it. Desmond hatches from it a few weeks later and he looks like a cross of a xenomorph and Diablo from Diablo 3. XD His tail is long and slender, with a wicked blade tip and his hands are clawed with razor sharp talons. He has 1 pair of horns that frames his head and they slightly curve along the shape if his head before having two bends(like a lightning bolt) that end in the horns sticking out and slightly curving upwards and outwards from behind his head. His body is otherwise very human shaped, though his legs is the typical double jointed type most fantasy creatures have. His eyes are an intense gold, the same as Altaïr, so questions of his parentage is not needed. His teeth is pretty normal, only having some pretty wicked canines. Colourwise he is mostly the skin colour he had before he died, but the monster parts are a deep red that goes into black the further from the human parts you get.

He needs to eat raw meat and though at first he was pretty disgusted by it, it quickly turned out to taste pretty good to him, so he loves to hunt fresh food for himself. Masyaf ends up discovering him when he looks to be 5 years old, but he is only like a few months old. Altaïr defends him and after that is very open about loving and caring for his son.

Altaïr trues to ask the Apple for the reason he carried Desmond's egg, but all he gets is "Unknown Interference with the Calculations. Cannot Calcute Origin of the Source." Which tells him even the Apple doesn't know why he laid an egg.

Not long after Desmond was discovered by Masyaf Altaïr starts getting the signs that he might carry another egg. This time it's Clay. XD

When Altaïr leaves to go fight the Templars and finds Maria, he brings the Terrible Duo with him, much to the delight of Masyaf. They love to cause chaos for some of the Assassins. XD

I have no idea on how Maria and Altaïr met, but with Desmond and Clay, Altaïr HAS to make sure that Maria can love his children as he does and the potentially future ones(Altaïr is betting on that there would be more eggs, knowing his luck).

Maria does decide that despite the apparent demonic children, she wants to marry Altaïr. Queu them returning to Masyaf, much to Maliks despair. The peace and quiet won't last long. He is right. When Maria becomes pregnant and has her son and Altaïr starts to show signs if yet another egg. *Sigh*

This one is Sef and strangely enough is almost fully human, looking like a mix between Altaïr and Maria. Only his small claws, teeth and eyes betray his non-human nature.

Maria loves them all equally and because Desmond is there Abbas gets no chance to ruin anything. ^^

Thinking of doing one with Ezio, but need to sit on it a bit more. Hope you enjoyed my insane ideas. XD

[depravitymoon]

Severity Scale - Yandere Fugo

Inspired by this post

[At this moment, I’m gonna answer Fugo with 1, 5, or 10. I will get better numbers when I compare him to the rest of the Bucci Gang (and La Squadra).]

Manipulative:

How manipulative he is?

1 being completely honest

10 everyone’s a puppet on a string

10/10 Fugo’s smart enough to manipulate people. That’s how he was able to live on the streets of Naples when he was kicked out.  As for his yandere antics, he wants to use his intellect to get what he wants before resorting to violence.

Perceptive:

How easy can the Yandere spot your attempt at manipulation.

1 is a sucker for you.

10 sees right through you.

10/10 Fugo loves you, but he will play mind games on you. He will study you, analyze, learn more about you and your psyche than you would ever know. Mind, mind games until you lose control.

Brutality :

How easily they kill others, the severity of the physical punishments/restraints, how willing they are to hurt you (and how severely) to teach you a lesson, etc. 

1 is wouldn’t hurt a fly, 

10 is will be brutal without hesitation.

Willing to hurt/kill others - 5/10

Willingness to hurt you - 5/10

Severity of punishment - 10/10

Fugo does have self-restraint, but when it’s gone, kneecaps will be busted.

Kidnapping capability :

If you tried to leave, how likely you’re forced to come right back?

1 is he will have a very hard time getting you back.

10 is he will find you within seconds.

5/10 - There are plenty of ways to escape Fugo but there are plenty of ways, to varying degrees, to return you back to him.

Emotional instability:

How much of an emotional roller coaster he is?

1 is pretty chill.

10 is unpredictable intense volatile emotional states.

10/10 - Duh.

Mental instability:

How well he blends into society? How off his rocker is he?

1 is no one suspects a thing. Yandere seems normal.

10 is everyone looking for a reason to call the police on him because the yandere is a walking red flag.

5/10 - It’s closer to 1 because I doubt Fugo has massive outbursts that often.

Restrictiveness:

How restrictive they are on your freedoms and privileges. 

1 being you’re essentially free, 10 being bound hand and foot in a dark closet all day type of thing. 

6 and over involves kidnapping.

5/10 - Closers to 1. Fugo wants control of you, because he wants you to do things for him and that means allowing you to roam the world. Keep in mind, that he does expect you to come home.

Stubbornness/Compromisability:

How willing they are to compromise versus how stubborn they are? 

1 being they will easily give up some of their wishes if it makes darling happy.

5 being you can negotiate a middle ground on some things. 

10 is just NO.

5/10. Fugo wants to be 10/10, but he actually wants a decent relationship with you. He knows he can get you to do his bidding easier if he negotiates with you.

[restlessmaknae]

one to let go, one to hold on [k.s.h]

➳ Characters: dance partner!Seunghun x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: slice of life, coming of age, fluff, angst, real-life bittersweet, friends to lovers, dance partners au

➳ Words: 6.5k

➳ Warning: mentions of pressure, low self-esteem, perfectionism, nose bleeds

➳ A/N: This story was inspired by two songs: Sarah Cothran’s I’m Here and Seunghun’s cover of ABIR’s Tango. I recommend checking out both for the vibes. *-*

➳ CIX taglist: @wccycc​, @dat-town​

If dancing was a language, you and Seunghun would speak the same one.

May it be because you had been dancing together ever since you had been really young (young as in awkwardly moving middle schoolers), may it be because you just complemented each other so well both on stage and off stage, but when it came to dancing, you and Seunghun were the same soul in two different bodies. It was as if he could understand you without saying a word (just by the posture of yours) and he could see the flaw in your movements even before you could make a mistake. He was there to catch you when you fell and also to help you get to your feet when he couldn’t catch you. He was there to pick you up when you didn’t have the confidence to continue a practice or you felt like giving up.

For this reason, you felt like no one could understand you better than he did. Just how much time and how much care it took for someone to know when you were having a bad day and when you were just faking a smile - only by a mere look at you? Just how many people could finish your sentences or know exactly what you would say before you doing so? Just how much you had to know someone to be able to read their mind and suggest something without the other asking about it?

On bad days, you told yourself that it was because you had known each other for so long. You had seen each other when you had been missing a tooth, when you had been wearing your braces throughout the day, when you had been breaking out during puberty and when you had been awkwardly growing into longer limbs and more defined curves. Truly, there was nothing that could create awkwardness between you two, or so you thought.

Not until you both realised that despite speaking the same language (dancing), you two had very different reasons for doing so.

“So what would you be doing if you weren’t dancing?” Seunghun asked after a practice when it was only the two of you left at the practice room (not a rare sight). You two were on the floor with your back to the wall, catching your breath between sips of already lukewarm water (it always warmed up during practice no matter how cold it was when you got it).

Truth to be told, the boy looked the most attractive to you in this state - messy, probably already long enough curls to trigger a visit at the hairdresser falling into his deep, dark eyes, cheeks tinted ruby due to the intensity of the practice, drops of sweat painting lines along his skin, oversized, comfy clothes drenched in sweat, but that genuine, content smile playing on his lips. He seemed the most handsome in your eyes this way because you knew that this was his rawest, most bare form, that this was when he didn’t have any flashy outfit or extravagant make-up on, yet he was so powerful, so captivating. Not just anyone could have this effect on you, but boy, he did.

“What do you mean? Like hanging out at PC rooms?” You furrowed your eyebrows after letting out a confused chuckle. You reached for your water bottle yet again, but stopped in the midst of it when Seunghun elaborated.

“I mean, what would you do if you weren’t set on becoming a dancer?”

You were 15 at the time. It was a weird age because it both seemed like whatever you did at this age determined your future (whether you studied well, whether you studied the right subjects, whether you had the right hobbies, whether you looked up to the right people and so on…), but it also seemed like you were still so young, so much was ahead of you that could change, that could happen or that you could go with. You were dancing on the fine line between childhood and adulthood, and this dancing seemed unfamiliar, jarring, uplifting, tense and embracing at the same time.

“I’m not set on becoming a dancer,” you reasoned firmly, averting your eyes from the water bottle to the sweat-stained face of the boy’s. It was Seunghun’s turn to look puzzled.

“Wait, what? You don’t want to do this for a living?”

“No. I’m studying to become a lawyer,” you explained without your voice wavering, but no matter how much you tried not to pay attention to the creases deepening on the boy’s face or the slight tremble of his lips… You had spent too much time together not to notice such subtle changes.

“I thought you were so determined to always do your best and stay for extra practice after classes because you are serious about it. I mean, like your future depends on it, you know.”

“I…” You started staying, the words catching in your throat. You realised that you had no solid answer to his assumption because you, too, had to think about your reason behind trying so hard when it was just a hobby for you. A hobby that you loved dearly, something that could free your mind between school and studying until late at night, something that was your sweet escape from the big, scary world out there full of what ifs and should haves. “I guess I just try doing my best no matter what I’m doing.”

It was what you settled on, and it wasn’t actually far from the truth. You had been expected to excel at everything you tried your hands on, and despite the fact that your parents had never made it to your competitions (unlike Seunghun’s), they saw the medals and cups you won, so they knew that you were doing well.

“But… you’re going to keep dancing, right? You are so talented,” Seunghun complimented, but he was still in a bit of a shaken up state, so it felt like he was trying to reassure himself instead of telling you that you were doing well. As if he was trying to tell you to continue.

“Of course, you silly. I have to beat you,” you semi-teased, nudging the boy’s shoulder playfully, but his face remained solemn. Despite the fact that you two were on the same dance team, you liked to challenge (and motivate) the other by saying that you were actually up against each other, and if someone could hold out longer with their extra practice after a class or leaned forward more in a side split, they would be the winner.

“Are you sure?”

It was scarce to see Seunghun so serious, but little did you know, your following answer was actually one that he would hold onto whenever the next few years would keep him doubting the future.

“Yes, of course. Do you want me to pinky promise like we did back in the days?” You offered as you held out your pinky, and there it was, that toothy smile spreading across the boy’s lips. It was as if the whole world had turned for the better when he smiled like that.

“Forget about it! Loser pays for the snacks on the way back,” he announced hastily before pushing himself off the floor and running out of the practice room to head for the changing rooms. You shouted after him to say that it wasn’t fair, but it fell on deaf ears, and you knew that he would win anyways.

You let him nevertheless.

One way you didn’t let him win was to win over your heart.

Seunghun had never been good with words, not when it came to serious matters. When he was telling a story oh so enthusiastically with big hand gestures or when he was quick-witted enough to add to an already funny joke, words came to him easily, almost as easily as breathing. On the other hand, when it was about confessing something that might change how others would see him or asking about something that had been weighing down on him, words died on the tip of his tongue.

Just like these days when he wanted nothing more than to ask you if something was wrong and console you if there was, listen to all your concerns, so that he could lift some weight off your shoulders that were already burdened by so much.

The truth is, Seunghun had heard, seen and noticed things you might not have known about. One of his friends, Yonghee, attended the same school as you did, so he frequently heard about your achievements - the straight As, the top places at competitions and even the fact that you had been selected as a member of the youth parliament for high school students. He had even overheard you as you had been talking to your mother on the phone about how exhausting dancing on top of school and extra classes were, how could you even take on volunteering? Your mother had insisted that it would be for extra points, but Seunghun could see the consequences, and believed that something would have to give.

He had noticed that you had visibly less energy - your moves weren't as precise as they used to, and more mistakes slipped in. There wasn't that familiar fire burning in your eyes that he had seen when you had been younger. You were also more moody, easily irritable and almost always out of reach. "I'm busy", "I can't today" and "maybe later" were the most frequent texts you sent to him, if you sent him any. A lot of times you just left him on read.

The truth is, Seunghun didn't know whether he had any right to comment on it, whether you were close enough for that. He might have liked you more than a friend, but he wasn't sure that you felt the same way. He had been convinced before that you had, but maybe it had been you being in love with him as her dance partner rather than him as a person. After all, now that there were no more fleeting touches, no more secret glances and no more little too tight hugs, he wasn't that sure. Still, he wanted to muster up the courage.

So once when you all too familiarly dismissed his idea of heading to the bus stop together because your mother would pick you up, he stood in front of you, blocking your way to leave the practice room. You two were the last ones after class, but it was more because you tried to catch your breath like crazy and more because he wanted to catch you than anything else - which used to mean you two staying after classes to practise a bit more.

You didn't speak up, but your eyes were telling a story on their own - you were throwing daggers with your gaze. Seunghun looked down at you, his lips twitching at the sight. Where had your joyous smile gone? Where had all of those playful remarks gone? Where had you gone?

"Why don't you ask me to move?" He breathed, his words no more than a whisper. He believed that yelling at him and physically pushing him away would hurt less than being this quiet. It just hurt him to look at you like this - like a mere shadow of yourself.

"I figured you would do it yourself without asking."

"I have a question. If you answer, I won't be in your way," the boy started cautiously, but all he earned was a huff and a bob of your head. You waited for him to speak up, but when he kept staring at you without uttering a word, you stepped sideways to walk around him.

As if woken from a stupor, Seunghun followed along you and stepped sideways - like two well-coordinated moves, the boy couldn't help but think just how frightening this dance seemed. How cold. How lifeless. Like the last dance of a dying swan.

"I don't have time for this, Seunghun."

"I know, but it's just hard to get it out because truthfully, I don't know what to ask. 'How are you' seems so wrong when it's clear as day that you're not fine. 'Are you okay' would indicate that I don't see how much you're not okay, and I don't want you to agree to that. So I don't know, and I don't even know whether it's right of me to ask anything."

When he said it out loud, it sounded so desperate. Maybe he was desperate, he just didn't want to face it head-on, but he knew that tossing and turning in bed at nights, his fingers itching to reach out to his phone meant that he cared even though you didn't ask anything about him. It pained like the sight of a forgotten object at the practice room because he knew that now he was the abandoned one.

"Seunghun, I have to do a lot of things. As I've told you, I'm not going to be a dancer, so I have to do everything in my power to make sure that I get into a good university. I know you can't understand this, but-"

"Maybe I can't understand it because I don't have first-hand experience with this," he cut you off, slight frustration lacing his words. If you thought that he would just let you pull up a wall between you two because you two had very different goals, you would be dead wrong. It had never been about dancing with you for him, it had always been about being with you - in whatever form.

"But I can see what it takes away from you. It's like you're not yourself anymore," he pointed out, his voice slightly raised. You let out a huff, looking away for a second before looking up at him again.

"Seunghun, I've grown up. It's not like I have to be the same girl who danced with you when we were mere kids," you counter-attacked, and even the word 'kids' seemed like an accusation when you said it with so much malice - as if you looked down on that time of your life.

"I don't want you to be the same. I just want you to be happy, but are you really happy now?"

You gulped, not finding the right words to say, and Seunghun knew all too well that you weren't. You didn't even try to deny, and if anything, that just broke his heart even more. Because part of the reason he liked spending time with you was the obvious way he could make you happy, let it be his silly jokes, his wiggling eyebrows, teasing semi-flirty lines, loud and impromptu singing sessions and endless attentiveness when it came to you. So now he felt a bit like he failed himself for he couldn’t make you even a tiny bit happier.

“I will be. Once I get into law school, it’ll all be worth it,” you concluded and pursed your lips, walking out of the practice room. Seunghun could see you move, but you felt so far away, and he felt like even if he could reach after you physically, he wouldn’t be able to reach you emotionally.

And that’s when he knew he had lost.

You knew that you were being unfair to Seunghun, but you couldn’t help it. You just couldn’t keep up with dance on top of everything, and when senior year rolled by and your advanced maths classes overlapped with your dance practices, you were almost relieved that your mother told you to give up dancing.

“Everyone will understand. Even though you’ve won awards for dance, you’re set on becoming a lawyer, so your focus is on studying now,” she said, and you weren’t sure whether she said it to reassure herself or you, but you were relieved nevertheless. Even more so because it meant that you didn’t have to break Seunghun’s heart by isolating yourself from him.

He might have thought that it wasn’t conscious, but you did it on purpose. You didn’t want him to see you in your state: nosebleeds over text books, dark bags under your eyes, little to no appetite due to anxiety, numbness taking over you whenever you had a spare moment and this pang of bitterness whenever you saw students your age or younger ones who still had time to have fun, be with friends and go to places other than the after school academies. It’s like you had nostalgia for something you had never experienced. Seunghun deserved someone who could match his energy, and you weren’t one anymore. You might have been once, but you were far from it right now.

However, putting an end to your dancing years felt like a goodbye to Seunghun as well. You didn’t go to the same school, you didn’t have friends in common, you didn’t live close to each other, so dancing was the only thing that connected you. You did talk out of dance practices or at least you used to, but with your mounting school work, sometimes you just left his messages on read or turned down his offer to meet up. So now it seemed like that there would be no reason for you to meet, and with your busy schedule, you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to do so anyways.

It didn’t mean that it hurt any less because Seunghun was a part of you, a part of your childhood and your youth, someone who had been there from the start and who had not given up despite you pushing him away again and again. Maybe it was for the better. You were sorry for him for what you gave him and what you couldn’t give him, and whatever it was between you two, you were sure that he would thrive and find someone else he can care about like that.

Despite the fact that you had tried to prepare yourself for the goodbye, it wasn’t any easier when it happened. You had a bit of time before your after school Maths class, so you headed to the dance academy, asking him if you could meet up. He must have thought that you were there for the dance class as well, but it was evident that he knew that you weren’t when you met in the corridor with you in your beige coat and him in his favourite grey sweatpants already.

“Thanks for making time for me,” you started, your heart hammering rapidly. No matter how many serious discussions you had regarding global warming and inequality during classes or how many times you presented confidently at a competition in front of a jury, when Seunghun looked at you like that - as if you were a pearl that he cherished, but it kept slipping through his fingers -, you found it difficult to keep your tone steady.

“Oh, come on! It’s nothing. I’m glad you’ve wanted to meet up,” the boy mentioned with a shrug of his shoulders, and he tried with a casual smile, but you could see through it (him), and you knew that it wasn’t as casual as he wanted to make it seem like.

Precious seconds rolled by in silence, but you couldn’t even decide where to begin. You wanted so hard to appear composed in front of him, but you were falling apart, even more so because he was in front of you.

“The truth is… I’m not going to attend dance classes anymore. Not here, not anywhere. I’ve already told Miss Kwon about it,” you said in one go, hoping that it would make it easier on the boy if you didn’t drag it out any further.

Seunghun’s smile wavered, but only for a short while. It was replaced by a gentle, warm smile, one that he gave you whenever he found one of your antics lovely or he had a compliment to say. You felt your heart shake, like leaves meeting the cruel winds, especially when he broke the silence.

“I’ve figured that it was already too much for you. I’m glad you can now focus more on your studies,” he mentioned with a toothy smile, and oh, how you wished at that moment that you could have treated him better in the past year. You didn’t deserve his words, you didn’t deserve him.

Torn by his overflowing kindness, you just stood there without being able to mutter any words. Seunghun, on the other hand, took two steps closer to you and hugged you. At first, you froze in place, but soon just like the ice starts melting under the warmth of the rays of sunshine, you eased into his touch. You missed it so much. You missed his touch, this comfort and the feeling of being safe beside him no matter what would await you after dance practices.

“I’m going to miss you nevertheless. You should at least reply to my messages, so that I know you’re doing okay,” Seunghun mumbled while still hugging you tightly, and you bobbed your head a bit, signalling that you would do so.

This moment was one that you wished to engrave into your head, but it had to come to an end eventually because nothing, not even feelings, lasted forever. So after you let go of each other, wished each other well and promised to keep in touch, you left the dance academy to head to your Maths class, only to find yourself crying in the bathroom afterwards.

There were different kinds of goodbyes, and Seunghun thought that he had gotten used to saying goodbye. However, this one was different from any other before. It wasn’t like saying goodbye to his parents in the morning before going to school, to his dance teacher after class between ragged breaths, to his friends after hanging out at each other’s house or saying goodbye to you when you had stopped dancing with him at the academy. This time, he would go far away for a long time, and if everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t come back for two years, only for holidays.

No wonder his mother had been teary-eyed when he had packed his suitcases the day before or his father had been extra quiet on the way to the airport. His grandparents had also told him to never skip meals and call back frequently - or video chat them if his parents helped them out -, and his former dance teacher had also sent his wishes the last time they had met. A lot of his friends had given him something to bring along - for instance, Byunggon had given him a plushie that had magically fit into one of his suitcases - while some of them including you waited for him at the airport to bid their goodbye.

Seunghun was glad that you had decided to tell him that you wouldn’t come to class in person because he would have been really hurt if he had only gotten to know about it through the dance teacher. He might have even given up on trying to stay in touch, but with your promises back then, you had managed to stay in touch, albeit messages had been more and more scarce the closer the end of the senior year had been. Seunghun had been busy preparing for his audition tapes for dance schools abroad while you had been busy with your exams.

However, once summer break had rolled by, you two had been more free, and you could have spent some time together - going to cafés, walking in parks and watching movies together. You had seemed more radiant, thankfully, and Seunghun had been happy for you. It was as if you had found your way back to yourself. You had been just as happy for him, after all, he had made his dream come true - to learn from some of the best dancers in the US -, and he had been eligible for a scholarship thanks to his amazing audition choreography and recommendation by his former dance teachers.

So there you were beside Hyunsuk, Jinyoung and his parents, and he couldn’t believe that the close proximity you had now would expand to thousands of kms in a bit. It felt like he had just gotten you back, and now you would be even further away than before.

“I think you should go soon,” his father reminded him of the passing time when he had gotten too immersed in a dance video that Jinyoung was showing on his phone.

“Right. I shouldn’t miss the opportunity to charm the West with my dance,” he joked around to ease the tension in the air because his mother was already sobbing and you looked like you were on the verge of crying, too.

“Remember what I’ve said,” Hyunsuk mentioned playfully as he gave him a hug, and Seunghun nodded, toothy smile and all. His friend had asked him to get him his favourite sweet in its original form and preferably an XXL version, so Seunghun was set on doing just that. As expected, Jinyoung had less to say, but his hug was just as tight as Hyunsuk’s.

Then came his parents who could barely let him breathe, they hugged him so tight. You had already lent his mother a new tissue because she had used up her own, and his father earned a few supportive pats on the back from the boy’s friends.

Then came you, and suddenly, there were no words that could describe how he felt. It would have been so easy to dance his heart out, but here, he couldn’t do so. Instead, he let his heart do the dance, and hugged you like he didn’t want to let go of you (because he really didn’t want to).

“Take care, and don’t forget to rest when you’re at your limit,” you reminded him like his own mother would, and the boy couldn’t miss this opportunity to tease you that you sounded just like his mother.

“She’s right though,” the woman agreed between little sobs.

“You too. Don’t burn yourself out at uni,” he told you firmly, and even though he could feel that you were ready to let him go, he held onto you a bit more. “Just a few seconds more, please,” he whispered into your ears, so that only you could hear it. You relaxed into the hug once more and patted his back, encouraging and empathetic as always. Seunghun wished so badly that he could just keep you in his arms and take you away because he was so damn afraid that distance would keep you two apart.

“I promise I’ll write back and we can video chat, too. I promise, so go now. You’ll miss your flight,” you prompted him albeit a bit weakly. You might have tried to keep it together, but your voice told him all he needed to know, and that was what prompted him to actually let go.

“I won’t, but I’ll miss you,” he confessed with a gentle smile, his chest tightening at the realisation that it was time to go.

“I’ll miss you, too,” you responded quietly, but that was all he needed.

So with the hope that distance would only do you good and bring you closer, Seunghun held onto the strap of his backpack and headed towards the security area. While walking, he kept waving back until you were all out of sight. That’s when the first teardrop rolled down his face.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't miss Seunghun while he was away; that you didn't miss his jokes that were the best told face-to-face, his eccentric behaviour that popped out of nowhere sometimes, his dance that you loved watching in person despite not dancing yourself anymore and just him. His warm, chocolate-brown eyes, his little dimples that popped off when his toothy smile was on display, the mischief in his eyes whenever he was in his prankster mode and his bone-cracking hug. Seunghun was a person who loved to give with actions, and even though he was far away, he continued doing so.

He kept sending you good morning and good night messages despite the time zone difference, he recorded himself dancing and asked for your opinion, he kept bombarding you with selfies of himself in more or less clothes, not to mention the movie night/morning weekends when you watched a movie together while sharing your screen. It was all fun and heart-warming, and even though these didn't make him appear in front of you, they did reassure you that you would stay in contact even despite the distance.

You regretted not cherishing the time that you had together, and you regretted all the times you had turned down his offer to meet up. You hadn't known any better back then though, and while it was difficult not to get sucked into the deep, dark world of perfectionism again, you slowly learned how to do so. It wasn't easy, you were still struggling to know where your limit was and how you should set boundaries to keep a good balance between your studies and private life, but it was a work in progress. The idea of losing someone so precious to you who cared so much for you over something like this terrified you, so you felt like you had to do this. Plus, the fact that you enjoyed what you were studying made all your efforts to get into a law school worthwhile.

So despite Seunghun coming home during holidays which meant the time just before exam season mostly, you took every opportunity to hang out with him and his friends. Seunghun had also learned that some people didn't bother to give him a call or send him a message while he was away, so not all of his friends stayed his friends, but it was for the better. The important ones stayed.

However, the question was always lurking in the back of your mind; what if he stayed, what if he didn't come back after 2 years but instead, stayed in the US to keep dancing? Seunghun hadn't even known a definite answer to that question in the beginning, and when he had had a relationship for half a year, it had seemed that he would stay because his girlfriend had wanted him to. He hadn't told you why they had broken up exactly, but he had said that letting go had been for the better.

On the other hand, Seunghun came home after those 2 years. His previous dance teacher at the academy called to tell him that there was a teenage class he could take under his wings if he wanted to while still dancing competitively under the academy, and he had said yes. His friends couldn't stop teasing him since then that he would be a teacher, and teenage girls would probably have a crush on him despite the age difference. Seunghun just laughed it off, saying that though his charm was undeniable, he had to be a good teacher in the first place to not lose the ones who would have a crush on him. He admitted that he was a bit nervous how it would go, yet he was excited nevertheless.

"I'm sure you'll do great. You've taught me well when I needed help," you reminded him when he was sharing his concerns with you over a cup of coffee. You had stumbled upon this café the summer before he had gone abroad, and you had been sitting at the exact same table when you had been sharing your worries over getting into your desired university. You wondered if he remembered.

(He did.)

"I know, but you were different. We danced together, we were practically breathing together when dancing," Seunghun pointed out with a cheeky smile, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. Seunghun was like this even before his move, but since coming back, his remarks were even more smooth, even more borderline flirty. You didn't know what to do about it. You didn't know if he knew he was doing it so flirtatious.

(He did.)

"Well, you'll get to know them better as time goes by. You'll do great, I know," you reassured him with a confident nod. "Though if you end up not enjoying it, there's nothing wrong with that, too. You should be doing something you love."

"Is that really you, y/n?" Seunghun let out a lighthearted laughter that didn't fade away even after he saw your expression. "But for real, you've become so much... Looser? More at peace? With yourself and the world. It's nice. I like seeing you like this again," he admitted on a more serious note, and his words played on your heartstrings. The way he looked at you did too: as if his eyes were twinkling little stars, his face the peaceful canvas of the night sky and the smile that he wore on his lips was a shooting star that you could wish upon.

"You're the reason for that after all," you blurted out without thinking twice about it, but confusion was written all over the boy's face, so you elaborated on something you couldn't have seen two years prior, but now it was clear as day that he was the reason why. "If I hadn't been so afraid of losing you, I might not have stopped being so hard on myself. But you reminded me that I have to be kind to myself to be able to be kind to others. And I... I also felt guilty for not dancing anymore. I felt that I've failed you somehow. I know you would never say that to me though," you clarified swiftly when you saw the boy open his mouth. He closed it immediately, prompting you to continue with a bob of his head.

"But somehow I felt that way. I loved dancing, but I hated how it turned into one of those slots in my days that weren't directly study-related. I also hated how I didn't enjoy it anymore, but I thought it was because of dancing itself, not because I didn't enjoy anything else either," you didn't need to continue for Seunghun to know: that it was him who had pointed it out. He had pointed out that you hadn't seemed to enjoy dancing, and when he had asked if you had been happy, you couldn't have said yes. No one else had taken the initiative to ask about your real feelings.

"If you could go back in time, would you do something differently?" Seunghun raised an eyebrow, his eyes boring into yours. His expression was a mixture of curiosity and bitterness for he knew just how dark this time had been for you. However, as the closest person to you, he had every reason to ask about it, so you weren’t afraid of answering between little sips of your favourite latte.

"I don't think I would because that conversation we had at the dance academy when I left was the one that had opened my eyes. If it hadn't happened, I might not have taken your words that seriously or if I hadn't stopped dancing then, maybe I would have really ended up hating dancing even more."

This was also one of the things that had changed between you two in the past few years: you were yet again as candid with each other as you had been in the beginning. May it be because you had grown and experienced more or may it be because while having such a distance between you two, you couldn't have communicated any other way other than honestly. After all, you hadn't been standing face-to-face to read each other's facial expressions or body language.

Seunghun nodded and thanked you for sharing this with him. You gave him a gentle smile before asking about his side: if he had something he wanted to change. He hesitated for only a bit before he admitted:

"I would have told you that I like you." The confession rolled off his tongue confidently, yet there was a hint of fragility in his voice. Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the way he said it so truthfully, his eyes still on you. "I just thought that by saying that, you might not actually keep your promise of staying in touch because I would make you feel uncomfortable... And it just didn't seem like a good time. You already had so much to worry about," he elaborated, and the more he talked, the more touched you felt.

So he hadn't even told you how he felt because he was worried that it would make you feel even worse? So he had sacrificed all these years to keep his feelings to himself because he had wanted you to not worry about his feelings? Oh dear gosh, yet again, just how much he had actually put you first?

"I... I..." You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say and pulling yourself together to keep your voice steady. You didn't know, of course you didn't know, and he was also right: it wouldn't have been the right time. You wouldn't have been able to give him enough love, care and appreciation because you hadn’t even learned to love yourself back then, but now…

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I felt that it would be time to come forward. I thought I missed you as a friend while being away, but being in a relationship made me realise that I was looking for what you and I had together, and I was looking forward to have that with you again."

So that was the reason they had broken up with his girlfriend. You just had no idea why: how could he have held onto this - to you - for so long without giving up? Maybe you did know though. It was him, he was Kim Seunghun after all, and he, he didn't give up.

(He did it because of you, because it was you, not someone else.)

"I like you too, Seunghun. I've liked you for so long," you confessed as the thought prompted you, and the way his whole face lit up hearing your words was absolutely worth everything. "And I think it was the right time this time."

"I did think so, too. You just made it easy for me to confess," he mentioned with a playful edge to his words. You broke into laughter because it was just so him, you were honestly so looking forward to how it would continue. Your story. Everything and nothing would probably change at the same time. Yet, you knew one thing for sure: that you did like him.

(And he liked you, too.)

A/N: This was one hell of an emotional rollercoaster, right? I know, but actually, this story was supposed to be even angstier. It was supposed to be an open-ended one with them actually losing contact after the reader leaves the dance academy (without telling Seunghun) and meeting again accidentally when he comes back from the US.

However, as I was writing it, writing how much they meant to each other, I felt like it wouldn’t be them. At least they would talk it out, and that’s how it ended up like that. I also think it’s quite realistic in a way that sometimes relationships go through highs and lows and times when losing contact is almost inevitable, but then, people make up. Seunghun and the reader were also constantly growing and experiencing things, and they confessed when it was time.

On a side note, I’ve been lucky enough to see CIX during their European tour, and OMG!!! They were incredible both singing and dancing-wise, and their personalities really shone through during those hours. I was so so happy to see them enjoy themselves. (I could write a whole dissertation about it haha) I hope every FIX can have such a magical moment to themselves and see the boys live! 🥰🥰🥰

I hope you enjoyed the story! Thank you so much for reading it! ❤️

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for CIX or for other bands, consider signing up for my taglist here.

[sasster]

Faith

Whoa! You've heard so much about Favion.

Ready to meet him?

[Google doc]

--

Ever since Cylion adopted control of the church no one has really seen or heard much of the First Prophet. The rumor that goes around is that he strayed too far from Her graces and was punished severely for it. More monster than troll is how word of mouth described him whenever anyone spotted him around the church. Another rumor says that he was always that way and owed it only to Her kindness that he was kept from descending further into monstrosity.

From where you lay neither of these rumors bring much comfort to your heart. The monster in question stands across the room looming over a desk that occupies a corner and glaring out into the light of the only window the room has to offer. The lunar light cast upon him makes him even harder to look at. Tall enough that his head would graze the ceiling if not for the unsightly hunch with which he walks, massive claws you’ve hardly seen on any lusus let alone another troll, and the rise and fall of his chest with each ghastly breath that he takes. All grimly lit by the green moon that he glares at. It is an image that does not inspire much confidence.

Perhaps it is only just a nightmare, a prayer in your chest suggests. But that would be too good to be true.

Each raspy breath Favion takes grounds you further and further into this new reality. There is only one small mercy in that he has not noticed that you are awake.

Laying here prone, it’s easy to beat yourself up for getting into this position. But it only means that you weren’t off base in the criticisms you preached of Her current Prophet, they would not have brought you before Her First otherwise.

You flew too close to the sun. Somnia overheard you spreading doubt about Cylions leadership. When you looked into his pupil-less eyes, he adopted a rather smug grin and blew a kiss. The last thing you remember before waking up here was the ringing of his voice as he told you to sleep tight.

This doesn’t feel like a punishment befitting the crime kind of scenario.

You wonder if Cylion knows, it’s hard to believe that he would sign off to something like this. But he must know, right? No one moves in these church walls without him being made aware of it.

“Do you doubt Her?” He asks without turning to face you fully, arms crossed behind his back. It looks more like he is addressing the moon that bathes him in light than someone that occupies the same room as him.

It would be a blessing if that were true, but something tells you that you are all out of blessings for the evening.

You screw your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to make him think that you were still asleep. He was mistaken, yeah. That’ll work.

His question hangs in the air, punctuated by  breaths that force his chest to rise and fall. Favion waits for your answer.

There was a third rumor about the troll that spread through the congregants in hushed tones. That he was the initial chosen vessel for godhood, but he was too weak to bear that burden. He crumbled under it. They say that upon his severance with the divine spirit, he found himself in a perpetual state of living and dying. This rumor is your least favorite. Because surely Dreamcatcher would not let Her first and most loyal follower suffer in perpetuity. It also does not account for his grotesque appearance. Not a satisfying explanation at all.

A growl stirs you from your thoughts. It starts low and rises in intensity until it starts to rattle your skull.

“Answer me.”

When he speaks this time he sounds much closer than before. Does he just kill you if he receives no response? That makes no sense. He would not have waited for you to wake up if that was the case.

Fear prevents you from moving and keeps you from opening your eyes to meet his cruel gaze. He begins growling again.

“I will ask only once more.” He warns around the deafening growl. Now he stands directly in front of you, you can hear each raspy breath as they rattle loose from his chest.

They sound wet.

“Do you doubt Her?” He asks again, enunciating each word slowly and suddenly you feel your head grasped in one massive claw. Effortlessly, as though you weigh nothing at all, he raises you up with him as he stands to his full height. “Speak. Now.”

Your head feels like it’s in a vice from the way he starts to squeeze it.

“Of course not!” You scream back at him and the pressure immediately lets up. But he does not release. “Cylion. The Prophet. I doubt Him!”

“Hm.” Is the only response that Favion gives before he starts to squeeze your head again. “Is that right?”

You try to nod but it proves to be more difficult than you bargained for.

It looks like he gets the idea, though.

“Then you doubt Her judgment.” His words punch you in the gut, they are accented by a deeper, more guttural growl.

Of course if she found him unfit to lead her followers, then she would not continue to allow him to do so. Perhaps the same way that her first was replaced when he could no longer adequately perform. You think. But, what if she was unaware of the extent of his incompetence?

“No, sir. I think he hides the worst of himself from her very well.” You manage through fear that coats the back of your mouth. “I think that his loyalties are not with her.” The beast seems to consider your response for a moment before suddenly releasing the grip he had on your head. You crumple into a heap at his feet. Despite the rough treatment, by the grace of the Divine Dreamer Herself, his growling has ceased to fill the air. It is replaced again by the much easier to digest wet breaths that you woke up to.

“You must not spread doubt within these walls based upon your biases.” He warns, raising a food to press into your shoulder. This must mean he is not in the killing mood if he is only giving out cryptic warnings, right?

You say nothing.

Instead, you bring yourself to your knees with both hands planted firmly on the floor.

“Please forgive me for my transgressions. My ignorance overwhelms me.” You mumble into the floor as he readjusts his foot to place it on your back.

He says nothing as he starts to add pressure.

“It will not happen again.”

“I know.”

He pushes down until a disgusting crack fills the air. You choose to swallow the yelp that attempts to accompany it.

This must satisfy him because, after a few seconds that take an eternity to pass, he removes his foot.

“Thank you, thank you for this mercy.” You mumble into the floor, wet by tears that you hardly recognize are your own.

“Leave my room. Pray that you are not brought before me again.”

[good-beanswrites]

Reposting my Shidou/dance drabble -- I realized I’d accidentally included literally everyone except Kotoko and I felt so bad 😭It’s all super minor edits to make it happen in T1 and give her like two lines of appearance, but I really wanted to lol

“I am not doing that.”

Shidou was always very polite, very calm in the face of any high-energy circumstances, whether it was a medical emergency or a raving party. The situation wasn’t quite either of those, but still he maintained his composure as the prisoners beckoned him forward. 

Yuno had cleared away some of the common room tables so she could teach Haruka a dance she’d seen online. His performance had attracted Muu, and their giggles had tempted Mahiru, whose enthusiasm had inspired Kotoko, whose intensity had found competition in Mikoto, whose teasing had recruited Fuuta, whose yelling had dragged in Kazui, and their spectacle had drawn in Shidou and Amane as an audience. 

“Aw, it’s easy,” Yuno was telling him, “just a few simple moves. I’m not asking you to pirouette or anything.”

Through his polite smile, he internally cursed Kazui for joining in; now he couldn’t use the excuse that he was too old for such nonsense.

Not that dancing itself was the issue. Shidou prided himself in being very good at the art: he knew several steps and moves, and had never been known to pinch his partner’s toes. He and his wife had received much praise for their dancing at their wedding. Before his work kept him out through the nights, she had talked him into a few midnight waltzes in their kitchen. He’d help his daughter twirl when she was feeling like a ballerina, and would sway with his son to the same music. 

But this amalgamation of hand gestures and hip swaying wasn’t quite the same to him.

He opened his mouth to decline, but the small stare in the corner gave him pause. Amane was watching the scene with feigned disinterest. She watched Shidou for his answer. All week he’d been encouraging her to involve herself with others more, telling her of all the benefits to her mental health. If he wanted even the slightest chance of her taking him seriously, he only had one choice. 

“I… will do my best.”

“Great!”

Before he had a moment to second guess the decision, Yuno grabbed his arms and yanked him into the circle. His eyes flashed around the group, quickly calculating the moves in order to follow along. Swing your arms this way, wag your finger that way, raise both hands, turn your body around, and so on. It was fairly repetitive. He had it down in no time. 

Or so he thought. Mikoto snickered at him.

“What?”

“You look stiffer than a board. You’re supposed to loosen up, man.”

“I am loose,” he said, his limbs perfectly rigid as he moved them with the music.

Mikoto did the little turn, putting a bunch of extra movement into it. It was uplifting to see him enjoying himself. Ever since he’d left the smoking group, Shidou had been worried about his state of mind. “Not even close. You’re doing even worse than Fuuta, somehow.”

“Hey!”

Mahiru circled her arms to the music. “I think he’s doing very well!”

Kotoko looked over. “You’ve got good breath control. It feels nice to work out like this, mm?”

“I suppose…”

Yuno was dancing circles around them -- literally and figuratively -- and she seemed to agree with Mikoto.

“Come on, you can relax here! Warden isn’t even around.” She swung her hips in fluid motions. “Let me see some rhythm!”

Shidou joined them for claps in sync with the beat, which he thought demonstrated his rhythm perfectly fine, but she kept prodding. 

Finally, he set his jaw. He wasn’t the type of man to get embarrassed. He could care less for appearances. Even if he was that type of person, he’d have reason to agree -- Kazui was completely showing him up. 

Though his movements were certainly ridiculous and clumsy compared to the others’, he tried to shift his shoulders and legs in similar motions. It earned him some celebration and some laughs from the others. He bent his knees, trying to put his whole body into the silly steps. 

He followed Yuno’s example, letting out a chuckle as he danced more ridiculously than he believed he ever had.

The song picked up, and Shidou turned triumphantly to where Amane sat in the corner. This would be a big step, showing her he was willing to put himself out there for the group. Maybe it would even convince her to come and join the dancers, now that she saw --

Her chair was empty. She had left.

[unohanabbygirl]

No no no no! Don’t go down the path of lies and secrets again, it’s what caused the Dance in the first place! Jeez you’re just packing in the drama to follow with the coming chapters aren’t you. This chapter was really intense, and I loved every word of it! Finally getting into some lucemond action while getting more into Luke’s mindset on certain things was interesting to say the least. And Aemond’s reaction to Luke kinda freaking out was absolutely sweet even if Luke didn’t fully appreciate it. I’m really concerned with the little big secret between Joff and Luke and hope Joff comes clean before the consequences come back to haunt them. I know you’re building up to it and I don’t want to sound impatient but are we getting close to where the memories will finally make a comeback? I only ask because I am frothing at the mouth for the angst filled chapters that follow. I live off that juicy shit. Also I am amazed by the depiction you gave Luke during his panic attack of how all his makeup and glamor were basically melting off him and turning him into a total ugly mess in a physical manifestation of how he views himself. That was peak imagery.  No tomatoes for you, just sweet lip glossed kisses. :)

Thank you babes!

I enjoyed writing Aemond comforting Luke for a multitude of reasons. One of which being to show that Luke is in good hands and while Aemond may be less experienced he surely knows when too far is too far even when tipsy. Comfort and the ability to actually pay close attention to your partners emotional state in the haze of the moment is such an important part of being with someone. It just goes to show that throughout his journey Luke will slowly learn what a healthy sexual dynamic is with Aemond helping to guide.

The secret between these two is going to cause more friction than I think anyone is ready for. It’s peel nack so much work this family has put in to come together and live in peace.

Though Luke is used to keeping secrets and lying his way through tough situations no matter how heavy they weigh in his shoulders, Joff is the complete opposite. Looks aside he’s truly just a kid who’s never withheld secrets from his siblings or parents a day in his life. Especially something as traumatic as what he saw was about to happen if he hadn’t found Luke in time. The poor boy not only has to deal with the weight of beating a man into unconsciousness but also knowing his brother has been sexually abused. It’s truly too much for such young shoulders to bear.

And yes! Since we’ve hit the halfway point in the story we’re closer now more than ever to the point of Luke remembering. The angst will be everything you’ve ever dreamed of because theres a big chance Luke will walk into his court date not just as Luke Rivers but Lucerys Velaryon as well.

Being made to spill his deepest secrets under oath to a court of dozens including your family and lover? Yea, that’s going to be painful.

Also, I was inspired by that scene in ‘The Orphan (2009)” where Esther’s advances were rejected by her foster father and so she flees to her room all while black eyeshadow and liner slowly seems to melt away with her tears. She spent time getting dolled up all for it to wash away in such a heavy moment of rejection and anger. Its such an eerie scene and I’m so happy you think my little rendition is worth praise.

I accept all kisses and return them 10x 🥰

[fioras-resolve]

I beat Virtue's Last Reward, thoughts under the cut

-Huh?

-Okay, not huh as in "I don't understand," I get it fully, I mean "Why was this the ending?" I guess I'll have to play Zero Time Dilemma to find out huh.

-This is definitely the kinda thing I'm gonna have to spend several days processing, similar to 999

-I'm thinking a bit about how the ending of a thing can overshadow so much else in a story, like even though I've experienced the rest of the story, I'm struck by just the ending right now.

-I think all-in-all the main thing I'll say is that this game got me to feel things, it got me to love, to loathe, to betray and be betrayed. I don't think a game has done that this well for me in a good while. It's inspiring tbh. Did I mention I'm a game developer? This will definitely influence my work moving forward.

-I cannot fucking IMAGINE playing this game in 2012 and having to wait 4 years for Zero Time Dilemma to come out. Y'all were hanging on that cliff so long, and it was very possible you'd never get up. As an Ace Attorney fan living on hiatus brain, I know the feeling, but also GOD, at least Ace Attorney had a consistent flow of games when I was most into it.

-I am... mixed, on how this game handles returning characters from 999. The big thing right now is This Is Not My Akane. She's basically unrecognizable, even in her past state where she looks the same. I was thinking during that whole ending, "Okay, but why did it have to be AKANE? She's been through this so many times and probably has six layers of PTSD from the thing, so why would she ever agree to this?" And it feels like the answer is a kind of puzzle-box solution that I find really strange all things considered. Like, yes, 999's ending was a mindfuck, but it also genuinely pulled at the heartstrings because like. Yeah, you were saving Akane, and this is someone that we'd built a connection to both as a character and as a player.

-I guess the thing there is that like, that kind of heartstrings ending is a single route of 999, but it's all over VLR. The ending feels like an answer to the mystery, but not to the themes, or the question of "why does this game exist?"

-It feels like Uchikoshi wanted to follow up on the cult success of 999 by making something Bigger, an even more complex mystery with even more paths and even more moving parts. And he got so invested in making this puzzle box cohere that the game ends up sidelining emotional resonance even when it's trying not to.

-I've been talking to a friend of mine who played it a while ago and felt physically ill after the ending, and like. First of all, yeah, different people just have different tolerable levels of bullshit. But also, I feel like plural systems like myself innately have more of a resistance to it because our minds are already fucky enough. Legit, during the reveal of the swap I was thinking "Oh so he dissociated for 45 years."

-Sidenote, Zero Escape feels intensely gnostic, from what little I know of gnosticism. It feels like these games are trying to use science as a conduit/justification for a philosophy I'm not sure if I vibe with. But I can vibe with it for the purpose of storytelling.

-I think I like VLR more than 999? Like, VLR is definitely playing with bigger ideas and following up on 999 in ways I really appreciate. And in general th--

-Midway through typing the previous thing I realized, holy shit, I have a similar relationship to this game that I do to Final Fantasy XIII-2. They're both sequels that follow up on their previous games with blanket improvements to both story and gameplay, but both have endings that leave me confused as to what these games are actually doing besides filling in plot before the next game. And yes, both VLR and XIII-2 are doing amazing things in the beginning and the middle, but the answer to "what is this leading to" for both seems to be "play the next game, fucker."

-I think the thing I'm pissed about is the justification given for the AB game. Like, the mechanic inherently carries interesting themes about trust, self-interest, game theory, etc. The reveals of what everyone else voted are some of the most gripping moments I've experienced in video games. I was ready for this to be going somewhere with these ideas! And then the reveal is that the reason the game was constructed like this was to give you more moments of choice to time travel through. And like, okay, fine, this game's got its higher level stuff about choice and agency and all that, that all works! But for the Ambidex Game to be primarily about making the player make the exact right choices to lead to the perfect ending, it's... Ugh! I thought the point was to explore all these other possibilities, that's why all the different endings!

-I need more time to process this game, but right now my take is this: Virtue's Last Reward is an amazing game until you realize what it is. It's a game that can raise your emotions high and get you truly fucked up. But as you play more of it, it reveals its true focus is this almost mechanical construction of plot. This construction is beautiful in its own way, but it's not what I come to a game like this for. Despite being a game designer who talks a lot about game mechanics and systems, I care so much about story. I want to get attached to characters, I want to see a narrative unfold, I want to have my heartstrings pulled. And the game seems too sure of itself to remember to pull it off.

-Or maybe this is the wrong way of looking at it? Maybe I'm criticizing what it isn't, rather than appreciating what it is. This game isn't trying to be 999 and failing, it's trying to be Virtue's Last Reward and succeeding. And I'm still along for this ride.