#it has been over a literal year since I've played this game

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Guess who's finally returned home <3

[asimplearchivist]

hrrhhhrrmrm...velmgarb...*indistinguishable gnawing noises*

[kamaluhkhan]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.” 

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall. 

11:09am. 

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play. 

“that was before.” 

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.” 

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.” 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp. 

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together. 

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways. 

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?” 

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.” 

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.” 

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones. 

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior. 

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black. 

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.” 

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm. 

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel. 

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook. 

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name. 

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?” 

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.” 

“so….where do i fit in?” 

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.” 

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases. 

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?” 

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself. 

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday. 

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in. 

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed. 

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.” 

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note. 

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible  — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips. 

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.” 

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions. 

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay. 

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!” 

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….” 

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need. 

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you. 

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else. 

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore. 

you’re a friend. 

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on. 

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals. 

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly. 

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods. 

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol. 

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.” 

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!” 

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.” 

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.” 

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.” 

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck. 

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know. 

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?” 

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.” 

you cheers, keeping eye contact. 

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.” 

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.” 

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum. 

“lucky her.” 

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink. 

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud? 

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods. 

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.” 

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.” 

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.” 

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right? 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored 

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are 

v ⚽️

pls u love it 

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that 

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?” 

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor. 

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight. 

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt. 

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking. 

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look. 

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee. 

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.” 

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.” 

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer. 

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class. 

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible. 

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance. 

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me 

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza 

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

<3 

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide. 

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.” 

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints. 

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles. 

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum? 

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

ok 

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again. 

nice, but different. 

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice. 

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too. 

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.” 

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

“f-fuck,” vi groans. 

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough. 

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages. 

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:’ ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong. 

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me?? 

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong. 

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks. 

there’s no answer. 

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries. 

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled. 

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi? 

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work. 

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah. 

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming. 

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.” 

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.” 

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i  —”  vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening. 

there. 

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made. 

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence. 

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.” 

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you. 

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.” 

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand. 

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.” 

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.” 

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler. 

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.” 

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye. 

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone. 

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch. 

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back. 

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights. 

two minutes left in overtime. 

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions. 

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal. 

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point. 

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure. 

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest. 

vi takes a deep breath. 

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them. 

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field. 

and this is the winning point. 

the whistle blows. 

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her. 

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair. 

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.” 

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in. 

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour. 

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw. 

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom. 

“powder!” 

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!” 

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds. 

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you. 

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady. 

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life? 

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white. 

deep breaths. 

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along. 

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe. 

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?” 

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….” 

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you. 

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?" 

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point. 

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her. 

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless. 

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit. 

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest. 

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it. 

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...." 

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin. 

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago. 

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for. 

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.” 

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself. 

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love. 

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter. 

you’re out with someone else right now. 

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake 

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

k

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together? 

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents. 

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe. 

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.” 

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless. 

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made. 

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work. 

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously. 

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.  

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired. 

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents. 

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue. 

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.” 

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically. 

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands. 

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi. 

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway. 

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip. 

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next. 

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real. 

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?” 

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond. 

you shake your head. 

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.  

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence. 

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.  

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[yuriinullification]

This introduction was once a long meandering tangent disparaging the fact that the community i once held dear is completely dead, and yet it's still stuck in my mind like some cancerous fucking tumor. But times change, and instead all I'm going to say is,

you should play mspaint RISK:

The thing about RISK is there's no real way to describe it apart from, it's not anything like the board game it shares a name with. There are some central, recurring components sure (99% of maps have dice rolls, and involve you conquering territory) but apart from that? the sheer beauty in it lies in that you can invent and do literally whatever the fuck you want. And people have! In that archive there are thousands - and i really mean that, last i checked it was over 2000, maybe even closer to 3000 - maps, all made over the course of over a decade, with a shit ton of varying rules and rulesets, covering literally every IP and location imaginable;

the explainer document i gave above is an introduction, but it's genuinely only the top of the iceberg. I first discovered RISK when i was 12-13 years old, and since then it's completely taken over my life. It's brought me some of the most fun and novel experiences I've ever had, and I'm completely genuine when I say that I've never found anything even remotely like it. But, for the longest time it's brought me nothing but shame. The old community that birthed this game is one of the most violent and toxic places I've ever been a part of.

As a result, we're now building something new, on the foundations of the old. I'd love nothing more than to start over more or less from scratch - to excise the bad parts of the old risk community, and bring in fresh blood from here - but in order to do that I need your help. If you're interested in anything in the explainer document I linked earlier, or if anything in this post has sparked your interest, I highly recommend joining our server.

[rui-drawsbox]

remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played

all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!

Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over

Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha

i miss my wife man(Marius)

Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it

Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD

10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek

A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever

last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.

Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself

i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)

[hs-is-loml]

Still Love Him More. (t.b)

Pairing: Tom Blyth x Co-star!Reader, mention of Past!Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: some fans can't get over your past relationship with a certain famous ferrari driver while others are obsessed with your new boyfriend.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Rachel Zegler

Warnings: toxic fans? mentioned a slightly unhealthy past relationship with charles leclerc. (literally only mentioned and not pictured...), few grammar mistakes in the twitter threads. not a warning but tom blyth being the standard. UNEDITED

a/n: this was inspired by @sofs16 's jealousy, jealousy! + i'm deprived of charles since the f1 season being over rn so maybe i'm a little harsh with him in this... (written in 3am because why not)

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y/nupdates y/n with rumored co-star boyfriend tom blyth at the knicks basketball game tonight!

tagged yourusername and tomblyth

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y/nsidelove rumored? haven't they been dating since last year?

→ peetaspastry i think we all just assumed with the amount these two are together!

→ articarabella they are definitely dating! a few weeks ago y/n went on live and it was pretty much confirmed by them! they also mentioned how tom and her searching for a new place in new york

y/nforlifeee honestly, i don't know how people didn't figure it out sooner

thatonebakucorner who is this man and why is he with y/n😀

→ protectthewags it's her new love interest in tbosas

→ thatonebakucorner so what he's the her new love interest in her life too??!

twitter

instagram

blythandl/nnews has posted

liked by y/npleasegivemeachance, snowbairdsfall, fellforthebuzzcut, and 19,017 others

blythandl/nnews more pictures of y/n and tom during the tbosas

tagged yourusername and tomblyth

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y/nintbosasera she found an european man with some height to him🙏🏼🙏🏼

→ finnicksspear not the shade to the vroom vroom ex😭

→ welovey/n people need to get over the fact y/n and charles have been broken up for over a year already...

blythfilms something about them just make sense

nevergettingoverthem i've never seen a photo of y/n looking so happy!

→ y/nineverymovie maybe it's because her ex's fans used to belittle her and criticized her on anything she did?

valntynemade i should've known that the f1 girlies would find this

→ staystrongy/n they never miss when y/n is spotted with someone

twitter

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tbosasmemories has posted

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tbosasmemories behind the scenes pictures of y/n l/n and tom blyth while filming tbosas!

tagged yourusername, tomblyth, and thehungergames

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lovelyy/n the casting and sets of this movie are impeccable

unfairodair only tom blyth would make people attracted to a murderous man with a buzzcut

→ watchingforthem the same thing happened with drew starkey playing rafe cameron

soundofsnowlanding the more pictures are released of tom and y/n, the more it makes sense why they fell in love with each other!

→ y/nineverymovie she always seems to laugh more when he's around

livingfory/nreputationera the best thing that happened to y/n and her mental health was getting away from her ex. not to mention how she can actually focus on her career now

→ carlosconfusion i don't get why everyone hates charles so much? what happened between him and y/n?

→ wagsforlife charles and y/n were together from around late 2020 to early 2022. during the relationship, y/n was receiving a lot of hate from charles' fans and took a break from all social media and acting until the press tour of west side story started. many fans still love them but as separate people and not a couple!

→ oneforthewags exactly, that! even though y/n isn't a wag anymore, we still love her and support her work!

tomblyth has posted

liked by yourusername, hunterschafer, mrsamclaflin, and 985,973 others

tomblyth to my favorite person who breathed life into this movie. i will never be able to thank the world for sending you into my life. you are the light in the darkest scenes. i am truly the luckiest person for having you by my side every day. you are beautiful, angel.

tagged yourusername

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yourusername i love you

→ liked by tomblyth and 510 others

→ tomblyth and i endlessly love you.

songbirdsandsnakes snowbaird lives with you two

hunterschafer you guys are too cute!

variety hollywood's favorite couple ❤️

lunasteeples gorgeous girl

thehungergames two incredible leads

jesperjones a cast made up of the loveliest people :)

yourusername has posted

liked by tomblyth, vaughan_reilly, tchalamet and 1,041,109 others

yourusername i cried to him last night about how proud i am of him. he is so wonderful in this film. you will all love him as much as i do. but i still love him more.

but i also wanted to say that i came to adore this man through long days, fun nights, in-depth talks, and silly inside jokes. i spent every day with him and got to know his heart, his sense of humor, his charm, and first and foremost, his immense talent.

my sweet tom, you are unbelievably wonderful in every way. goofy, sincere, and lovable in every moment we have. i love working with you, but beyond that, i love knowing you.

view all 121,054 comments

tomblyth you forgot to mention that i also cried with you last night.

→ tomblyth besides that. i have never met anyone else that is as perfect as every aspect of you. no one will ever have my heart the way you do.

→ liked by yourusername and 649 others

→ yourusername you have me forever.

lilymhe loved the movie! and the amazing chemistry between the two of you!

vogue favorite on and off-screen pair

alyciajasmin beautiful people 🤍

nickkbenson biggest smiles

→ yourusername always!

florencepugh adore you both

[ennkis]

enemies to lovers w kenan??🙏🙏

EYE TO EYE (kenan yildiz x reader)

summary : in which y/n and a certain turkish-german football player dont see eye to eye

face claim : no one exact

notes : thank you for the request !! hope its like you wanted :3

pairings : kenan yildiz x reader , childhood "enemies"

Ever since you can remember, Kenan has been a constant presence in your life. From childhood, you two never saw eye to eye. He was always around, whether it was a family dinner, a holiday gathering, or a neighborhood barbecue. The day your families became intertwined marked the start of what seemed like the ideal love story—the boy and girl next door. But reality was far from that.

As your families grew closer, it seemed like opposites attracted for them. Kenan was considered the typical jock: charismatic, popular, always surrounded by friends, and stereotypically, a football player. You, on the other hand, were far more reserved but possessed a strangely attractive confidence.

Kenan always challenged you. As the years passed, your dynamic didn't change. Your parents wanted you to be friends, but neither of you made the effort. Despite your parents' close friendship and frequent attempts to foster a bond between you, neither cared enough.

As you both grew older, the dynamics shifted subtly. The teasing evolved into playful banter, and the challenges turned into a mutual respect for each other's strengths. Yet, beneath the surface, there was an unspoken understanding that perhaps there was more to your relationship than met the eye.

"Y/n, the Yildiz family invited us for a get-together. Make sure you're on your best behavior," your mother said. You never really understood it; it wasn't you who made a huge deal out of your petty arguments. Hell, it wasn't even you who started the arguments. But it was never Kenan who got scolded; no, he was too perfect for that, wasn't he?

"And please, no more fighting. The last barbecue was more than enough." Ah, yes, the last barbecue—it ended with a small fire and a broken ankle. Obviously, it was my ankle; his football career would be in shambles if he broke his ankle during a friends and family event. But it wasn't my fault; he brought up the famous debate of who's the GOAT of Formula 1. I mean, you're literally German, what do you mean you don't think Schumi is the GOAT? The debate was supposed to be settled by a friendly game of pingpong, but it didn't end so friendly. What was I supposed to do, not dodge the racket he THREW at me? In my humble opinion, my actions were more than justified.

As my mom knocked on their front door, we were greeted by Engin, Kenan's father. Their house was cozy, shared between the parents and three boys. Every time we went over, the atmosphere was welcoming.

Kenan stood at the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face as he welcomed us inside. "Hey, Y/n," he greeted me, his tone surprisingly friendly despite our history.

"Hey," I replied, trying to mask the uneasy feeling his presence always seemed to stir in me. His eyes held some sort of amusement, as if he could sense my discomfort. I walked past to enter the familiar space of their kitchen connected to the backyard entrance.

Engin ushered us towards the backyard where the rest of the family and a few guests were gathered around the barbecue grill. Kenan's brothers were playing football in the yard, their laughter blending with the hum of conversation.

"Hope you're hungry," Engin chuckled, flipping a burger on the grill. "We've got plenty to go around."

Kenan slid next to me as we walked to the table, his voice low. "So, how's life?" he asked with genuine interest.

I hesitated for a moment, surprised by his sudden sincerity. "Um, it's been alright," I replied cautiously. "Busy with school and all."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that. Are you still into that video editing thing you were doing last summer?"

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise that he remembered. "Yeah, actually. I've gotten some offers from certain companies."

"That's really cool," he said with a nod, a hint of admiration in his voice.

We reached the table where the food was laid out, and Kenan held out a plate for me to take first. I couldn't help but notice the small gesture of consideration, a far cry from our usual banter or tense interactions.

"Thanks," I said quietly, feeling a flicker of warmth towards him that I hadn't expected. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Kenan than the cocky football player I always assumed him to be.

As the evening went on, the atmosphere at the barbecue shifted from tentative civility to a surprising ease between Kenan and Y/n. Engin's expert grilling skills were matched by his knack for storytelling, keeping everyone entertained with humorous anecdotes from his youth. The smell of grilled meat filled the air, mingling with laughter and the occasional cheer from the ongoing soccer match in the yard.

Kenan and Y/n found themselves drawn into a playful banter over who could stack their burger higher with toppings, each trying to outdo the other with combinations that ranged from classic to unconventional. It became a mini competition, with Kenan daring Y/n to try his "ultimate burger creation" while she countered with her own daring concoction of flavors.

"You're seriously putting pineapple and jalapenos together?" Kenan raised an eyebrow, eyeing Y/n's bold choice of toppings skeptically.

"Why not?" Y/n grinned mischievously, carefully balancing the overflowing tower of burger ingredients. "It's a winning combo."

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief as he expertly flipped another burger on the grill. "Alright, I'll admit, you've got guts. Let's see if it actually tastes as good as it looks."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the backyard, Kenan's brothers approached with mischievous grins on their faces. "Hey, Kenan! Y/n! How about a friendly game of football?" they called out enthusiastically, kicking a soccer ball playfully towards them.

Kenan glanced at Y/n with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You guys sure you want to challenge us? You might regret it," he teased, his competitive spirit already rising to the surface.

Y/n chuckled, feeling a surprising rush of excitement at the prospect of playing alongside Kenan instead of against him for once. "Bring it on, boys," she replied confidently, flashing a grin that mirrored Kenan's.

With a nod from Kenan, they divided into teams—Kenan and Y/n against his brothers. The game started with playful banter and competitive energy, but something shifted as they played. Kenan's skill on the field was undeniable, his passes precise and his movements fluid. Y/n found herself naturally falling into sync with him, their teamwork surprisingly effortless.

They communicated with quick glances and nods, strategizing on the fly and covering each other's positions seamlessly. Kenan's brothers put up a good fight, but Kenan and Y/n's teamwork proved to be a formidable force.

"Nice pass!" Kenan called out as Y/n dribbled past Eren with skillful footwork, earning an approving nod from him.

"You're pretty good at football, Kenan. You should consider becoming a professional," Y/n joked with a playful smirk.

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head modestly. "I don't know about that. I'd probably miss all the glamour of backyard games like this."

"Get a room, lovebirds," His brothers teased from the sidelines, a mischievous grin on their face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, playfully nudging Kenan. "Ignore him. They're just jealous that we make a better team than they do."

The game continued with laughter, cheers, and occasional playful taunts exchanged between teams. As the friendly competition progressed, Kenan and you found themselves enjoying each other's company in a way they hadn't before. The usual tension and rivalry gave way to shared goals and a shared sense of accomplishment each time they scored or defended together.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the game wound down, The brothers conceded defeat with good humor, congratulating Kenan and Y/n on their victory.

"You guys were awesome!" Kenans brother exclaimed, grinning broadly as he bumped fists with Kenan and Y/n. "We'll have to challenge you again sometime."

Kenan chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Anytime, little bro. Just be prepared to lose again," he teased playfully.

As they gathered their breath and laughter echoed in the cooling evening air, Y/n couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of camaraderie with Kenan. Working together had brought out a side of him she hadn't seen before—the focused, determined athlete who also knew how to have fun and appreciate teamwork.

"Thanks for the game, Y/n," Kenan said quietly, his tone sincere as he glanced at her with a soft smile.

You nodded, feeling a smile tug at your lips in response. "Likewise, Kenan. It was... refreshing," she admitted, surprising herself with the honesty of her words.

As they shared a meaningful smile, the evening continued with laughter, shared stories, and the hope for more moments like this—where they weren't basically on the verge of killing eachother, but actual friends, if not more.

im sorry this kinda doesnt have plot and sounds kinda npc but erm ! ignore that plz

[hoshigray]

HOSHII MY LOVE this is gonna be my first ever request to you 😕 i usually refrain bc i get shy but im so touch deprived rn i NEED YOU TO (only if u want to no pressure pookie) MAKE A LIL MAKEOUT DRABBLE with literally any character plsplspls its carnal atp i love u

-🍓

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the way i wanted to make this a multi-post, but i've been thinkng this exact scenario w/ toji for the past week, it needs to get out of my head!! i appreciate you entrusting you're first req w/ me awwww ;w;

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! reader - suggestive content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - dry humping/grinding - thigh riding - fluff yet...suggestive - grinding - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - Toji and you being touch starved - implied reader is toji's partner who looks after Tsumiki and Megumi (yes, I'm feeling soft, shut up) - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

After swaddling Megumi to sleep, you slowly put him in his cradle. The year-old baby snores silently as he leaves your arms’ warmth and lies in the comforting chill of the sheets. You then move silently to tuck in Tsumiki, the toddler sleeping in her tiny bed. You kiss her forehead gently, making her smile unconsciously. After saying a hushed goodnight, you close the door.

The plan was to stay until the kids fell asleep, stopping by your boyfriend's place for a night since it's been a little while since you last saw each other. Work’s been keeping you away for a minute, and stopping by at his apartment was needed to happen before you crash out from stress. And seeing the little ones’ faces was the cherry on top, their wholesome beaming faces instantly fueling your social battery. 

After silently walking out of the hall, you enter the living room, where your boyfriend stands by the chair with your bag. You smile pleasantly, teetering your way to him. And he, Toji, smirks at you, straightening a bit when you’re close enough. “Gotta go,” you say with a whisper. “Better catch some sleep before heading back to the office tomorrow. Megumi should be out till morning, so you should sleep easy tonight.”

“Thank Christ,” he makes you giggle, hushed not to wake the children.

The silence pushes you to look at him, your heart skipping at his forest green orbs already latched onto your frame. You cough faintly before grabbing for your purse. “Need anything before I go?”

A hand grabs your wrist to pull, and Toji impersonates thinking to himself while his hands snake to your waist to draw you closer. You roll your eyes – knowing what game he’s playing – but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. He then says, “Mmm, only one thing comes to mind.”

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow, but your expression changes once he brings his face inches closer.

“I’m still waiting’ fr’ my kiss.” His gruff tone is dialed down, but his words affect a warmth to coarse through your chest.

It’s hard to say no when Toji’s nose brushes yours, lips hovering over yours, and your eyelids closing on their own. How long has it been since you’ve been close to him like this? You can’t even remember, work corrupting you for so long that this moment feels a little surreal.

“Hmm?” He teases you with a kiss on your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “A guy can’t get a goodnight kiss before seein’ his baby off?”

You bastard… Holding back is futile when he kisses the corner of your lips, your hands cup his face, and bring him to your lips properly. He groans, the both of you sighing as your hands wrap around his neck.

You break the kiss, knowing it isn’t sufficient for you both. Toji licks your bottom lip, and you whimper as he kisses you again, a soft noise resulting from the withdrawal. “Toji—Mmm,” scarred lips claim yours once more, this time with more hunger. “I have to go…”

Your words aren’t acknowledged, not when he chews on your bottom lip — a signal for more access. Fuck, your resolve dwindles with the insertion of his tongue, almost going weak in the knees. But before that, Toji smoothly picks you up, and the sudden shift has you yelp.

“Stay with me,” Holy shit, the way he was looking at you caused your stomach to do flips. So entranced that you don’t realize he is walking to the couch to place you down on your back, crawling above you. “I missed you. Just tonight, sweetie.”

Liar, you know he wants you here for more precisely because that’s what you wish. But, “I…I can’t, I have to go—Mmmph…!”He slammed his mouth to yours again, nibbling on your lip until his tongue was let back inside your mouth. You moan, his leg propped in between yours, bumping his knee to your groin, which has you screaming silently. “Ahhnn! Toji, not there!”

“Shhh, relax, angel,” he coos, using a hand to massage your skull affectionately. He moves his knee, and you’re practically grinding on his thigh with a chewed lip.

“I can’t stay,” you’re hushed by his lips again, and your hips move on their own. “I have to go…Ohhh.”

“You say that, but look who’s ridin’ my thigh.” His chortle is low, and your stomach does knots. Toji moves your legs so he can be nestled between them, and kissing your neck melts you under him. “C’mon, princess, ya know I can’t let you go like this.”

Your brows scrunch together at him sucking your skin, legs coming around his waist as you hump into him. Toji does the same, rocking his hips to you perilously, the groin of his sweats grinding onto your bottoms, covering your throbbing chasm. God, it felt too good to stop now, your hands roaming inside his white wifebeater to purchase. 

He kisses you again, spit covering your soft lips, and you whine as he teases and sucks on your tongue; your breath hitches while his free hand slithers down inside your bottoms, and a shaky shriek is prompted by his fingers pushing into your panties.

“That’s right,” he coaxes you between pecks, loving the way your hands scratch on him. “Gonna treat ya right t’night, angel—”

However, the fun stops once you two hear the sound of a door crying, sniffling, and cries getting louder as they approach closer. It was Tsumiki, the poor girl shedding tears through her drowsy state. 

“Miki?” You call to the toddler; Toji quietly moves off you so the little brunette can come running into your arms. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?” She nods and burrows her face into your chest. You kiss her temple, “Must’ve been a nightmare.”

Her father hums and ruffles his daughter’s hair, chuckling when she swats his hand away. Toji then leans to your ear, “I’ll get the bed ready.” A mild glare meets a naughty grin before he gets up to his bedroom, leaving you on the couch to soothe the crying child back to sleep.

So much for sleeping easy tonight…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #47 | 4.26.25 ๋࣭⭑

no bc we r actually so back brothers ive got FOOD TODAY

We are ALIVEEEEE AND BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER ((FR THIS TIME!!!).

Before we get into actual updates, I wanted to give context on where my life's been at basically the past year. As many of you know, I got my PhD last December (YEAAAA) which meant for the second half of 2024, I was literally in a cave crunching my dissertation. Now, many people (including me) thought after I finished my dissertation, I'd be a lot freer for Alaris stuff. But since this year started, I've been completely preoccupied with some personal matters which kept me from working on Alaris as much as I wanted to.

While the personal matters aren't anything anyone has to be worried about, they did take up A Lot of my time, and I'm really happy to say that I am officially free from those obligations too!!! Meaning for the first time in literally a year, I am NOT drowning. And that time has already been used Very Fruitfully heh....heh....heh.....

WANNA SEE???

Writing has been on a bit of a stall, and the main reason why is something I'll talk about in the Miscellaneous section! But it's nothing to worry about since it's because I want to focus on other parts of the game right now. With almost all of the routes finished, I've noticed that the writing pace I've maintained has resulted in the art and programming aspects to fall a bit behind where I want those parts of game dev to be.

So recently, I've focused more attention on the art and programming components rather than writing. That being said, writing still makes slow but steady progress! Kuna'a's development edits continue to progress, and Etza's route is about to be sent to line editing, which is the last stage of editing for my writing process. This means once Etza's line edits are finished, the four Central routes will be COMPLETELY FINISHED!! Exciting right!!!!

For art, I can't actually show very many sneak peeks since it's mostly been CGs and character design commissions heh. But I am willing to give a slight sneak peeks of these character designs in these two beta screenshots

Sickest character designs by @saffein-e

While these sneak peeks don't represent the final character sprites, they are the OG designs created by bestie Saf. And even from the designs alone, the characters are stunning additions to the cast! I can't wait to draw them in my own style and hopefully do Saf's amazing work justice 💖💖💖 In these screenshots too, you can see some of the newer BGs and hints of overlays that we've added to the game to heighten the visual effects hehe.

I've also been working on CGs for Etza's route and am happy to say our CG count is currently at 26 completed CGs (5 sketched ones) out of 54! Now that I'm making an active effort to Lock in on the art assets, I'm hoping CG and sprite development picks up a bit in the coming months ^^

And finally... for the most exciting news!!!!!

ETZA'S BETA WILL BE OUT MONDAY!!!!

We have finally moved forward on the beta build front, and beta testers will finally get to play Etza's beta! Since I haven't shown much in-game screenshots from the betas in past devlogs, and you all patiently still read them, I thought this month would be a nice time to update you all on how things are looking in Alaris beta land.

In this beta, you obviously get to woo our neighborhood angel

Since it's been a while, this is a reminder of what the game looks like (LMFLSOA). I know for me it's been a while and honestly I forgot how proud I am of the art assets :') I love how everything has come together and how it looks in the game <3

Of course, Important Choices and fun cast dynamics are a few of our Favorite Things

Between the messaging interface, the chapter card, the phone call overlays, and many more little effects and stuff, I forgot how many assets are in this thing. Being able to code Etza's beta has been an amazing reminder of how much work I've put into Alaris over the years ^^

Which brings me to exciting news!!!! I will make the official announcement separately at a later time, but as a reward for people who actually read these things, you're the first to know. With Etza's beta coming out soon, that means the four Central routes will have finished beta testing. And with where things are at, I've made the official decision that...

Alaris will enter Early Access for the First Four Routes!!!

I don't have an exact date for when this will release since it largely depends on how quickly I can art. But I'd like to aim for a tentative Q3 release for the Early Access Build! More details will come when I make the official announcement, but it is extremely exciting to have reached a point where I can even put this out there to people!!!

I hope you all are excited, and I want to thank everyone who has been on this journey with me whether it's as a recent or long time fan!!

Finally, I haven't really had time for market research since I've been in the "Returning the Game Dev" trenches. But I do have other exciting news that I'll make yet another official announcement on later.

Aside from the new Alaris beta, I've also had another small side project I've been working on with some friends (very chill-like) over the past couple of months. It'll be the first Crescence Dark Fantasy entry in my collection of games, and it's definitely a different vibe from what I've put out so far.

Where They Wait will be a new game submitted to Ossan Jam with elements of horror, fantasy, and dark romance :3c I'm so grateful to the team I've worked with and all the work they've put into our little shared baby, and I can't wait for you all to play it! This will also be coming out WELL, Monday too LMAFLIDJLIFJ.

As you can see, we've been hard at work behind the curtain. Since I last talked to you all, we've made a lot of nice headway on the different projects I've had on my plate, and I'm excited to feel like we're hitting our stride on so many things!!!!

Until next time we talk, which will be Very Soon with all our exciting announcements coming up. Thank you as always for being patient with me and supporting me!

[elieowlsclownery]

It's Weird Girl Time!!!

Okay so I'm trying to write an over-bloated analysis about an otome rhythm game about theater kids but I keep getting distracted by my favorite weird girl having her moment in Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun because LOOK AT THEM!!!

Their friendship is so incredibly sweet and soft and it makes me cry and the latest chapters are NOT HELPING!!!

My favorite characters in manga has always been the weird girls that no one likes. You know the ones that regular manga reader scoff at because they see them as annoying and obnoxious...maybe because I always ended up seeing myself as the weird girl who was obnoxious and annoying. Back when I still saw myself as a girl that is. Now I'm just a proud obnoxious weirdo (gender neutral) so I'm even worse!

But what sets this manga apart from others is that this Weird Girl is treated so well! She is LOVED both by her friends and the author for her obnoxious weird girl energy and she deserves to be!

Currently though she is having a MOMENT and I am SCREAMING!!!

Like, we knew right? From the first chapter she was introduced in, we saw that she knew she was obnoxious and annoying to others, and continued to put on a smile anyway. Of course she hides her worries, of course she's more aware than she lets on. We've seen how despite her obvious clingyness and constant need to play she's always been willing to put the needs of her soulmates first.

I think what this chapter and the previous one shows is that despite it being over a year since she threw a vending machine at her bullies for pushing her around, those scars never really went away. Because she's still scared, even now, that one day her best friends and soulmates will grow tired of her. Not to mention her compounding fear that her soulmates will get hurt. That they might die.

And we only saw the earlier worries, long before the previous arc where they almost got into a scuffle with the Border Patrol, which could have gone very, very badly if not for Henri and Mephisto. Not to mention the arc where Iruma was almost kidnapped at school.

And to add a layer of pain here is that with all the worries and loneliness she hides, after the Devilculum Arc she's shown to notice the hurt Iruma's feeling instantly, and immediately placed him and Azz in a space where they can openly share their worries. Sure she joined in, but only to admit the loneliness the two already know about.

And obviously Iruma's going to tell her he loves her anyway. Of course he would! He wouldn't be Iruma if he didn't love his soulmates with every fiber of his being, even when they tie you up and put a collar on you (in fact he might even be into-you know what that's a conversation for another time-) When Clara said that they must hate her after seeing her unfun secret Iruma instinctively rushed to correct her. But knowing he loves Clara isn't enough at the moment. It doesn't erase her worries that one day they might separate. It doesn't matter that Iruma loves her because he can't control what might happens in the future. Knowing they love her isn't enough here.

But then just when we think Iruma's about to awaken another concerning interest, there's Clara's other soulmate Azz, who for the first time CALLS HER JUST BY HER FIRST NAME!

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR LITERAL Y E A R S FOR THIS MOMENT

Like I said before, knowing they love her isn't enough right now. And even with all her fears she does know at least at this moment both Iruma and Azz do love her. And it's clear to us that Azz loves Clara too. But unlike Iruma he's not as open about it.

(every time it's shown just how much Clara loves both Azz and Iruma, it's always Iruma who comments on it first, while Azz only replies to what Iruma says)

At the beginning Azz saw Clara the way most other demons saw her, which is as a nuisance. It's only because Iruma likes her that Azz accepted her and eventually grew to like her too. Although he couldn't show love the way Iruma does, which is to openly dote on Clara, hug her and go along with all her antics. Instead his main way of showing love is usually to fuss at her about her antics and worry about her safety. Also holding her head which he claims he does to keep her still but let's be honest he does it cause he wants to.

(He's currently tied up inside a place losing his mana and his first concern is if Clara's feeling well after eating the forbidden snack.)

He's shown a lot of growth in the past few arcs when it comes to how he interacts from Clara. He still mainly argues and fusses at her, but along with that fussing comes an understanding just as deep as Iruma's.

Yet until now Azz always called her "Stupid Clara." This nickname does come with a lot of fondness attached to it, and it's a drastic improvement from when he only called her Valac, but it still shows that Azz never takes Clara very seriously. Even right before that moment where he stopped Clara from eating(?) Iruma he was still treating Clara as usual, fussing at her and calling her "Stupid Clara."

And in a way Clara agreed to the way Azz treats her, because as shown by her reaction to them finding her album the last thing she wanted was to be treated seriously. Because if they treated her seriously it would show the unfun side of her she's been hiding.

But that's exactly what Clara needs, and Azz is the one who needs to do it.

This is the first time, after almost 400 chapters, that we're seeing Azz face Clara seriously. That's how important this moment is. In fact he's taking Clara more seriously than Iruma did, who's immediate instinct was only to comfort Clara.

What's he going to say? We'll only find out next week, but just this moment, him looking Clara in the eyes and calling her name, is enough of an impact.

[rivalswrites]

Okay sososoosos I don't know if your post was sarcasm or not but AGHHH I've had this idea for Johnny and Ben for like actual years (Fantastic Four 2005 the brainrot you gave me) and have never gotten around to writing it

Think about Johnny and Ben separately with a reader that's on the aro and ace spectrum because they don't experience aesthetic attraction. So, looks literally just don't even matter to them. I can imagine it would be a good thing because both Ben and Johnny have people constantly focusing on their looks, just for different reasons. (But you know Johnny would be like 'I look this good and you don't even appreciate it??? 😞😞')

Not anyone's type

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Aro-Ace reader!! I kinda just made this general aromantic instead of mainly aesthetic/look attraction, whoopsies.

Johnny is a flirt, through and through, anyone and everyone he deems good enough (which is just about everyone) will and has been flirted with. He's used to being put down and rejected, but he's never encountered someone who's just- plain never been interested in romantics. Especially when they're so fine.

When he's turned down he plays it off, usually just going back in for more- but you just kept shooting him down!

Most of his flirting is playful, so he really doesn't mean most of it when he pushes for you to go on a date with him; though he wouldn't mind if you said yes…

You'd have to sit him down and explain it very thoroughly to him, and even then you'd probably have to get Sue on his back about it to get him to fully stop if it genuinely bothered you- knowing if he was playing around or not wouldn't matter.

“C'mon sweetheart! Just one date with this hot shot-” Johnny pointed his thumbs at himself “and you'll be begging for more by the end of it.” His smirk doesn't flinch when you don't even look at his direction- pretending not to hear him.

Johnny wasn't usually a begger, but not even getting a reaction out of someone for his flirting hurt his ego in a way.

“Please! Just one little dinner date, doesn't even have to be somewhere nice.” His hands were up in a prayer, and he was practically on his knees looking up at you.

When you finally turned around to look at him, his eyes lit up- thinking finally! he had a chance you'd say yes. He waited oh so patiently to hear your acceptance to his date, “Susan! Get the spray bottle, your brother won't leave me alone!” And he fell dramatically to the floor as he watched you walk away.

Ben is a great guy, almost anyone who's met him- at least in the same side, and excluding hulk- has seen that. He's polite and has a great sense of humor, what a package deal!

He hasn't really had the greatest luck with romance, not since he's turned into- well- a pile of rocks, but after a long time of adjusting he's learned to deal with it. If anything he's gained confidence in his looks- if a beautiful woman like Susan can be interested in a workaholic like Reed, someone could be interested in him.

When he meets you it's all sunshine and rainbows to him, he swore a love song was playing in the background- but maybe that was just Johnny's playlist. Obviously the way to express his feelings is by making a move, so he does. He's offering you flowers, telling you that your outfit is nice- that you look nice, the whole shebang.

It's almost hard to let him down, to tell him you're not interested in that stuff at all. But ever the understander, Ben picks up on your explanation pretty quick and even apologizes for if he's ever made you uncomfortable. And while it's hard for a while for him to get over it, he's alright with just having another friend to hang out with.

He holds out a couple tulips to you, offering a patient smile as he does so. “Ben, we talked about this, I'm not-” he cuts you off. “I know, this ain't like that, I just-” now he cuts himself off “I like giving flowers to friends.”

Ben scratches at his head, looking off behind you, he was so scared you'd think he was lying. “Ask anyone! I give them to Reed and Suzie all the time.” You give him a laugh “none for Johnny?” He scoffs in return “the prick doesn't deserve anything nice from me- or anyone for that matter.”

You burst out laughing, taking the flowers from him and cradling them in your arms. He smiles again and joins in with your laughter - you both knew he was dead serious though. Never had he ever gifted Johnny something nice.

[tamamoarts]

Ever since watching Randomalistic's 2 hour analysis on Wreck It Ralph and Turbo, I've since fallen in love with the movie, and the horrid grey goblin all over again. So I present to you, a Wreck It Ralph OC I spat out in like a day. Circuit! He's a brand new Turbo from a remastered version of his game and everyone side-eyes him for obvious reasons (he's literally just hanging out)

More detailed story idea under the cut!!!

About a year after Turbo's final defeat and the liberation of Sugar Rush, the arcade gets a brand new addition to the family: and a chillingly familiar one at that! The rights to TurboTime was bought by a more modern company, which results in a reboot of the franchise: SUPER TURBO CIRCUIT! Featuring a reworked version of Turbo and a few other characters to play as! This Turbo is a brand new person, and has absolutely no clue about the horrible tale behind his own name in the arcade. So obviously, you can imagine his surprise when everyone gasps in horror upon seeing him in the metro station. Despite his namesake, he's actually a pretty decent guy- I mean, at least better than the OLD Turbo was. Like, besides his base personality of being cocky and competitive of course. [Like, he'd never think of torturing a kid for 15 years.] He manages to at least get most others to TOLERATE his presence, but the stigma around him haunts his mind like a GHOST. It actually chips away at him really bad, so he starts going by Circuit instead of Turbo to help differentiate himself. Things play out pretty well... until ONE dark night in the arcade, there's a large spark in the wires near the metro... and something enters Super Turbo Circuit. Ever since then, STC's machine has been acting... strangely. And Circuit hasn't been feeling like himself. But surely, those yellow eyes he has now MUST be a mere graphical glitch.

TLDR: the Turbo is haunted

[rimunagenius]

Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.

Everywhere

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 2.2k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭

Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.

She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.

"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.

"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."

"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.

Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.

She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.

Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.

When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.

She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.

It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.

Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.

“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”

“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.

“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”

“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.

“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”

Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.

“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.

She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.

Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.

But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.

Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.

Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.

“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.

“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.

You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.

Cait💕

“You find your class okay?”

“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”

“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”

Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.

Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.

You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.

“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”

“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”

You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.

“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.

Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.

“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.

That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.

The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.

How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”

It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.

The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.

But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.

Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.

You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.

“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.

“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.

“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.

She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.

“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.

“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.

“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.

“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??

[metallicabirder]

Okay I've been thinking on it for about a week now and I think that Sunrise on the Reaping did a lot to illuminate the role of cages (both physical and mental) in the series.

In tbosas, the tributes are transported to the Capitol in cattle cars and then kept in the zoo until the games. They are kept shackled and caged for the entire process, from the reaping to the zoo to the arena and then home, for Lucy Gray. Despite this, if Snow hadn't gone to District 12, we can assume that Lucy Gray and the Covey would have been mostly free to continue on as they had. The games, for all their trauma, would have ended with her exit from the arena. The cage is only present, for her, when Snow shows up in 12 and has expectations for their relationship, for how she should be or act. He expects his songbird to be content in her cage, but it isn't enforced because that system hasn't yet been constructed.

In Sunrise on the Reaping, the literal cages have decreased but we've seen their presence continued into the aftermath of the games. The tributes are transported in normal train cars and fed. They're given apartments and fed and clothed. Instead of a physical cage, we see Haymitch woven into a mental cage of how he should act, what he should say. He isn't constrained by an enclosure, but instead by the consequences of what he says and does. The cage only solidifies when he wins his games. Snow places him in a literal birdcage, traps him like he wanted to with his District 12 songbird. On his return to District 12, Haymitch sees Snow snap the doors shut, sees that the consequences are playing out. The metaphorical cage is complete and keeps him boxed, not docile but semi-compliant, for 24 years. This connects to the theme of 'why would the many comply to the will of the few.' They comply because, in the time since the 10th games, the cages have been snapped into place in the districts. Mags, Beetee, Wiress, Haymitch- all of them show that victors were not safe, that they can be punished. Drusilla implies that the prostitution of desirable victors had already begun by the 50th games. Rules are stricter, propaganda more overt, songs forbidden. We see this with Effie, as well. They're far enough removed from the war that young people don't have the same anger at the rebels- they never saw the rebellion so why would they? But they still buy into the propaganda, the narrative, that the Capitol spins. It lets the Capitol keep the districts in the box of 'other', paint them as something less worthy, less human than the Capitol.

Which brings me to my final point, by the time we hit the trilogy, the cages are almost entirely mental. Tributes are given every luxury, victors showered in gifts and wealth, but the threat hangs over the districts all the time. We even see it in District 12 during Catching Fire, Katniss wonders if 12 could rebel like 11 and the other districts but fears that people would just close their doors and windows, that there wouldn't be enough buy-in from their already small district. Instead of a literal birdcage, Katniss gets trapped in a cage of Snow's design where she has to comply or everyone she loves will pay for her actions. When she sees Coin start to construct the base of a similar cage, this time for Capitol citizens, that's when she realizes Coin cannot be left in power. Which leads to the final point of the series, chronologically: the many stop complying with the few when they can look beyond what they've been told. When they recognize the cage they're in and work together to deconstruct it.

[kcdarchives]

so i've been doing some thinking on the opening section of kcd2 and hans. sorry huuuuuge analysis text post incoming

thinking soooooo much about hans dragging a delirious and distraught henry through the woods at night and trying his best to reassure him. like, henry is probably not carrying a ton of his own weight while he's walking here, probably made even worse with him looking around and reacting wildly to the various hallucinations he's seeing around. and despite this, hans with all his strength manages to drag henry to bozhena's hut, and then overcomes some incredible odds to beat a man wielding a sword with just his fists. not only would this be really hard in actual real life, if you have played the game, you know beating a guy with a sword with only your fists and no armor is also like. an incredible feat. it's insane. (i do remember hans saying something about the guy taking a bad fall and hitting his head or something like that, which helped, but STILL) hans did something which, as a player, I think is almost impossible and he did it to save henry. but he still ends up really injured, which is to be expected in that kind of scenario because that's what would happen to literally anyone including henry. but hans is bedridden with fever, and he eventually wakes up just to find that once again, henry has saved the day by getting the stuff for his medicine and fending off some more of those outlaws that attacked their camp. hans expended so much energy and effort trying to save henry and he DID, but for him, it seems like at the end of the day, henry ended up having to clean up after the mess he made. i think this is a feeling hans really starts incubating at this moment.

when he is rejected at the gates of trosky and all his noble manners and bearing get him nothing but a bucket of shit splashed onto his head, this is when he really starts to mentally freak out. they came here for ONE thing and they can't do it. there's no solution in sight.

when they go down to the tavern, my little headcanon is that part of the reason hans refused to help carry sacks is because he was still sore from hauling henry's heavy ass through the forest and also from being cut up by a sword but he has too much pride to admit this to henry, especially since henry seems to have no issue with it even after receiving a recent arrow to his shoulder/back. henry's working to bail them out of another mess with the tavern tab and hans can't even contribute. i think leaning on his status as noble is a good excuse, and also a great way of convincing himself, especially after the rejection at the gates of trosky. hans probably feels like he doesn't really have much going for him, besides his status as a noble. he doesn't even have control over his own inheritance right now, it's in the care of his guardian, hanush. when he's lecturing henry on the divine order, he's also trying to remind himself of his own status and worth. for us as henry and the player, it's frustrating. "why can't this guy just carry some sacks like the rest of us?" but for hans, he NEEDS to cling to this distinction in this moment. if he's not a noble, if he's just like everyone else, then does he really have anything? if he's too sore to actually help carry the sacks, then he really IS useless. he insists on henry treating him like a noble, because he knows literally NO ONE else around him will. and his title as a noble is worthless if no one actually treats him like a noble. and henry, eventually, relents because he's henry and perhaps can sense something in hans during this discussion.

later on, we can see that it's a few things pushing hans over the edge when he gets into the fight with that guy. the argument really starts with the guy saying "its those guys' own fault that they got killed for camping out in the open by the pond" because I just KNOW that was like a stab in the heart for hans. these were guys he knew for years and trusted to lead them, and the idea that it was his decision that got them all killed must eat him up inside. it's a kneejerk reaction to argue back, only for the guy to follow up with doubting his identity. having his status doubted not only hurts his pride, but its especially because it's that lack of belief in his identity that caused them to be turned away at the gates of trosky. when the guy tauntingly parrots his title back at him, it's just another reminder of the mockery at trosky castle, of his noble status being worthless in this moment when no on believes him. that's when he throws the first punch. and once again, henry ends up getting dragged into it when the brawl breaks out.

when the two of them land in the stocks, hans' frustration is through the roof. when he and henry fight, hans is upset that henry joined in the fight not because he felt like henry overreacted or that its really henry's fault somehow, but because it feels like henry was bailing him out of yet another mess. hans is wrestling with the idea that it's his own fault that they're in this situation. not just the fight at the tavern, but also the attack by the outlaws, and maybe even the rejection of the gates at trosky. was he lacking in some way? if he had conducted himself differently, said something else, would the guards have believed him? hans pushes henry away not because he truly feels like its henry's fault, but because he feels like he needs time away from him. hans needs to prove to himself that he's capable, that he doesn't need henry to achieve something and that he's not a failure. he's literally been sent on this task by hanush, and whether it's a test by his uncle or a sign of trust, he doesn't want to fail. and from a player standpoint and henry's as well, when you don't really understand what's going through hans' mind as he spits unwarranted vitriol in a moment of frustration, it truly does feel like "hey, at least some of this IS his fault? he's yelling at me for helping out in a fight HE started?" when even the player/henry feels this way, there's no doubt that hans is the person struggling the most with guilt and anger directed at himself.

when he leaves, you accept it. if he's going to be so stubborn and emotional for reasons that henry can't understand BECAUSE he doesn't bear the same expectations and pressure of status that hans is under, then fine. there's a little bit of a feeling of relief in that moment when henry separates from hans. hans was putting himself under a LOT of pressure, and in turn, a lot of that pressure was spilling over to henry as well. of course henry is still going to do the task they set out to do, but there's a palpable feeling of FREEDOM when you separate from hans here, because you're no longer chained under the expectations and restrictions of a noble's status that hans is constantly tied down by, even if some of it is self-imposed by his own need to prove himself as a worthy noble.

if henry runs into hans at his camp before the semine wedding, you can see hans in his element. he's much happier and more confident, feeling like he's found some measure of success here. he's hunting, something he's GOOD at, something special he's allowed to do because of his noble status (even if no one in this region recognizes it). i love that when he speaks, it's obvious that he had no intention of truly leaving henry behind. if hans succeeded in getting into the wedding and delivering his message, he would have found henry again, and proudly announced his accomplishments to him.

i think the things that make henry and hans' relationship so compelling is the complexity that arises from this constant wrestling with status and expectation. the main driver of the plot in kcd2 is hans, and his desire to prove himself. to his uncle, to henry, and maybe most of all, to himself. he's constantly pushing himself, and he's met with hardship at every turn, but he has both an impressive amount of perseverance (and perhaps also an incredible stubborn streak). henry, loyal and true, helps him throughout all of this. yes, henry is constantly getting hans out of messes, and hans has realized this early on. he struggles with it so much, not just because it makes him feel helpless or useless, but because he's stuck in a constant cycle of trying to prove himself, only to face some sort of setback where henry once again comes to his rescue. when hans is told that he's getting married, he doesn't raise as much of a fuss as we know he's capable of, because it's something he knows he needs to accept if he truly wants to meet the expectation of both his uncle and the other nobles around him. as a noble, an identity we know he places a lot of value it, this is the kind of thing they do. but it's still something he doesn't feel good about. whatever feelings he may have for henry aside, the small amount of freedom he previously had is getting restricted even further by this social contract of marriage. so much of hans character struggle is wanting to prove himself as a worthy noble, yet desiring the sort of freedom that he sees henry enjoying and wishing he could have both.

meanwhile, henry is hugely important in his life not just because he helps him out all the time, but because Henry doesn't have the same kinds of expectations and ideas about him that everyone else does. Henry, growing up as a peasant in a village and mostly having little contact with nobles up until the events of kcd1, really only knows the broad general knowledge about nobles that most other people do. with hans, someone he's grown to spend a lot of time with and seen many of his best and worst moments, he treats hans simply as the person as he is, first and foremost. he respects hans as a noble because he knows hans cares a lot about it but he doesn't let that create a sense of distance between them. henry's always very good about referring to him has sir hans and lord capon when talking to other people, but he most often just addresses him as "hans" when speaking to him. hans has never had someone like this around his own age, surrounded by servants and fellow nobles who were very cognizant of his noble status. henry, not a noble himself, doesn't place these heavy or strict expectations on hans, and he develops a caring and genuine relationship with him with little regard for their difference in status. i think a huge part of their relationship development lies in hans growing to accept henry's help as just being something that's a result of their strong relationship, and not an indicator of his own personal failings. henry is an anchor for him and often (if the player chooses to) touts hans' positive traits and capability, reassuring hans of his own worth.

in the romance culmination scene, hans' struggle with not being able to help henry is made more complex by the fact that the reason he can't help is BECAUSE he's a noble. when you recall hans' early refusal to carry sacks with his nobility as an excuse, you can really see the development of their relationship and hans' understanding of his own status as a noble as not only a privilege but a restriction.

when henry and hans talk after the siege of suchdol, it's really interesting to see this sort of...acceptance of everything. hans' status is something the two of them have always been aware of, but they developed a relationship regardless. a wedding is completely in line with what is expected of hans as a noble, so it's not unexpected, nor would it invalidate the bond hans and henry have built up over the course of the two games.

for hans, henry is a person with whom he can be honest, show vulnerability, and find moments of freedom with when he's finding he increasingly has less and less. and for henry, hans is someone who lets him have access to a world that would normally be untouchable for him. yes, he's a noble's bastard son, but it's his association with hans that's let him be in all these places where he normally would never be allowed to go, like trosky castle, noble meetings, wartime discussions. he's treated with so much more authority than he would usually have as a peasant not just because he's capable, but because hans is there to vouch for him (almost) every step of the way. hans has helped to give henry real power to avenge his village and family by taking henry with him, but (and i could be wrong, i only played kcd2) i can't think of a single time when hans has ever held this over henry's head. and while he might jokingly complain about henry talking about it all the time (when they do a tiny bit of catch-up exposition during the opening pond camp conversation), hans has only shown unconditional support for henry during the moments when it seriously comes up. hans takes henry's loss seriously, even if it's not something he can personally relate to with his relatively cushy noble upbringing and not having lost anyone in his life who he was close to in the way henry was with his parents.

anyways this sort of turned into an essay when i did not intend it to be, but anyways i hope this conveys why i find hans to be such an interesting and compelling character and why i find his relationship with henry to be so interesting.

[cellarspider]

Star Wars: The Old Republic, and the Return of the Weirdest Guy

I've done a couple of tounge-in-cheek analyses of SWTOR backstory recently, and frankly, it was mostly an exercise in nostalgia: finding old drawers in my brain full of dusty old factoids, and dumping them out into essay-shaped monstrosities. Bioware released SWTOR on the 20th of December, 2011. There are kids who were born that day who'll be entering 8th grade this year. There was only one version of Skyrim when it came out, and it was only just over a month old!

SWTOR's development team has since been rehomed at Broadsword Online Games, which has meant a reduced budget while allowing the lights to stay on, and story updates to slowly continue. I've been content to keep splashing around in the base game, vaguely planning on getting a character or two through to the current storylines, but never actually getting there.

And then Star Wars: Celebration happened last week, and I am now forced to consider the unthinkable: getting my ass in gear and playing the new stuff, because I saw this.

This appears to be Darth Jadus. It's been thirteen real, actual years since he was last seen. Follow me below the fold, and find out why I'm obsessed with this man who once faked his death to get out of attending work meetings, and because his coworkers weren't reading his manifesto.

Content warnings before we begin: much as I love Jadus as a villain, he is a villain. He's a cult leader and he's in the running for Worst Dad of SWTOR, which is saying something when his competition includes a guy who had 1,300 years of practice to perfect being a really terrible dad.

Note that there will be additional jokes and analyses in the image alt text, which is where wild tangents build their nests.

Spoilers for the entirely of the Agent plotline, Act 3 of the Jedi Knight plotline, and various moments throughout the expansions. Assume Wookieepedia links contain unmarked spoilers for literally everything. I'll be covering the context of Jadus among the Sith, his plotline, some of my own speculations as to his motivation, and how things may go, now that this SWTOR cryptid is crawling out of the ductwork to be spooky in person once again.

Just to give you the flavor of this guy, I'll sum up his plot as succinctly as I can, right at the top: Jadus anonymously funds and arms a terrorist group and sends them to attack himself, seemingly dying in an extremely extra fashion. He's also outfitted them with undetectable biomechanical death satellites, and while those are finishing up their unholy maturation, he's taking a vacation to drive two hundred of his followers face-meltingly insane. His daughter will keep anyone from noticing this by being such a galaxy-class disaster that Jadus can just hang out for a few months.

He plans to return from the dead on the day the superweapon satellites are unleashed, taking control of then to wipe out the terrorists and simultaneously destroy his rivals' power bases, forcing them to acknowledge him and his horrible invisible space-laser children. He will then lead the Empire in whatever weird direction he feels like, while making sure not to piss off the immortal, eldritch Sith Emperor too much.

If he's allowed to win, he'll give the Sith Empire a light dusting of eldritch cult vibes before he realizes the game has entered Act 3: as an ambitious secondary villain, he's a prime target for the role of "gets killed by the end boss to show how serious the situation is". He evades this fate by simply leaving the game entirely. He then proceeds to lurk for thirteen real life years, and twenty-three Star Wars ones, before showing up to jumpscare the galaxy again. If that's actually him, we don't have it totally 100% confirmed yet. It could just be someone with a similar taste for being gigantic and wearing that one mask.

I intend to describe the hows, whys, and WHY?!?s of Jadus in a tasteful yet unhinged essay below.

So.

Let's take a moment and step back, to look at what made the Sith into compelling villains in the first place: Darth Vader. Growing up with the original movies, there was barely any detail about him, just electrifying little glimpses of a deeply scarred body and mind beneath the mask.

Really, when you set aside everything else that's come after, what do the originals tell you? I mean, in the original movie, "Darth" was clearly intended to be Vader's first name, and by the end of the trilogy nobody actually knew what a Sith was, or why Vader was Dark Lord of them. There was almost a timeline where the Sith ended up as little lizard assassin commando guys that thought Vader was a really cool dude.

What made Vader special was the experience of witnessing him on screen, brought to life by the physical performance of David Prowse, and the vocals of James Earl Jones.

The two of them combined created a performance with a gravitas that has yet to be matched by anyone else who's put on the suit or done the voice. There's a subtlety to the body language of Prowse and the restraint Jones employs in creating the image of Vader.

And let's be clear, Vader is still the untouchable standard, and attempts to recreate him are doomed to fail. But what about making something new and transfixing in other ways? Well, SWTOR has been quite good at that.

The core of SWTOR, anyway.

The voices and designwork do, anyway.

SWTOR is a Bioware game, and back in this era, that meant one thing: characters moving and gesturing in ways no human would ever attempt, unless they were imitating a malfunctioning animatronic.

These are stock animations that they'd used for years, and they're a cost-saving measure. Each game, storyline, and scene has an animation budget. That's because building a moving piece of art is hard, and doing so inside a computer means you either have to build literally everything from scratch, or you reuse assets that are already available. SWTOR is a game with literal thousands of voiced characters, in a new setting they couldn't reuse art assets for. Writing for the game began in 2006, while the first Mass Effect and Dragon Age games were also in development. There was no way you were getting custom animations outside of key scenes.

And so that leaves you with a good old Bioware tradition: what's your favorite stock animation? The ones I'm most fond of are "person exits a conversation by calmly taking two steps backwards before turning around, like they're a car pulling out of a parking spot", or "person kind of spins both their hands around in front of them, like they're at a loss for words on how to describe watching their buddy walk like an automobile".

So, those are the ground rules for experiencing a Bioware game of this era: everybody looks like a dork in the in-game cutscenes, but the voices and writing carry the day, so eventually you tune out the wiggles. If a character's really lucky, they'd get actual cinematics. If they're Darth Malgus, this is so he can get repeatedly kicked in the face and still look cool doing it.

[Video Description: The Disorder cinematic trailer, in which Malgus forces a Jedi padawan to confront how her master made the choice to abandon her brother, leaving him to an unknown fate. I've shown this before in other essays, and damn it, I'll show it again. This shit is fantastic. Malgus is in fine form, in terms of combat, manipulative villain behavior, and getting smacked into walls. You have no idea how often that happens to him. It appears to be one of his hobbies at this point.]

Malgus is the closest SWTOR strays to Vader, and the main point of comparison for all other Sith in the game. Voiced by Jamie Glover, he's a seething menace who's maintained a strong presence throughout much of the game's thirteen year run. He rebels against the Sith orthodoxy, making a play to rule them, and eventually rejects them entirely. He's even taken on more of the Vader cybernetics over time, as his life of conflict has broken more and more of his body, while leaving his mind intact. His vocal performance is very distinct, but in tone is probably closest to Vader's early portrayal in A New Hope: more open malice and contempt.

And if you're lured into the supplementary material like tie-in novels and such, you get his whole backstory, and it really doesn't improve things. You don't need to know who he was, or hear his inner monologue. His outer monologue gives you what you want without ruining the mystique.

Then there's the Sith Emperor himself, whose transcendent evil is brought to life by the voice of Doug Bradley, an actor best known for his lead antagonist role in the Hellraiser series. I'll admit I've only ever personally heard the Emperor in full form once, due to my meandering path through the game. But when I did? Every ridiculous thing about the game fell away, because his restrained performance carried the moment so well.

And when expansions and books start explaining more of what his deal is, it's often subtractive to his menace. Thanks in no small part to how much of that is tied up in Revan, a figure beloved by fans in Ye Olden Times, whose SWTOR-era canon is more of a "we don't talk about him" kind of affair. If you want the blow-by-blow, just check out the fifty-thousand word Wookieepedia page for Revan and feel your soul slowly shrivel up over the course of an hour or so.

But when you meet the Emperor again after Revan's dead, now manifesting in another body and with a different voice, you might hear him refer to Darth Jadus as "the finest Sith my empire ever produced."

And when you encounter Jadus, should you make the very good decision to try the Imperial Agent plotline, you might see why the Emperor thought that.

Darth Jadus is voiced by Stephen Rashbrook, who's mostly done narration and voiceover for documentaries. I'd guess that the most popular things he's been in have been this game, and the Black Mirror episode Bandersnatch, where he also does narration for something. The only credit that made me sit up and say "Oh shit! He was in that?" was the PBS/Channel 4 documentary series Secrets of the Dead, which careens between sensational goofiness and actually some of the best damn portrayals of archaeology on TV.

[Video Description: Season 2, Episode 2 of Secrets of the Dead, featuring Stephen Rashbrook's narration about a skeleton found near Stonehenge. For those who haven't heard his voice before, this is your baseline that will make things even weirder in a minute. If you do know Jadus already, this itself feels weird as hell. I keep waiting for him to wander off into a sermon on the spiritual benefits of existential terror. It's quite good at digging into the details and techniques used in archaeology, circa 2000. There's a few bits eyebrow-raising bits in the narration, But this particular skeleton has not been reexamined since this same analysis, fitting with theories still accepted today. Also, fun bonus fact in these papers: the previous carbon dating they mention in the documentary was paid for by a dentist who thought the skeleton was King Arthur's. /Description]

I've no idea if Rashbrook will be returning to the role for this surprise return, but he contributes a lot to making Jadus a transfixingly strange figure among the Sith. As with Doug Bradley, restraint is the key element, which wanders between menace and ardent, trance-like conviction.

And sometimes he says just the strangest, most unhinged things you've ever heard.

[Video Description: From YT user Armored Productions. The second time you encounter Jadus, wherein he basically opens with a Dark Side tone poem, reveals the outline of his entire secret plan in such a cheeky way that it just sounds like the worst salvia trip in the universe, mentions his flagship is named the Dominator, and then cranks up the BDSM vibes to maximum by ordering you to kneel for some sort of ritual purposes. And no, that last bit is never explained. We don't know why he wants you to kneel, or if it was supposed to change something in you. What I do know is that if you refuse to kneel, he gives you a chance to change your mind. If you remain defiant, he hits you with so much Force lightning that the game kicks you out to the menu that asks "you got your ass kicked, do you want to revive here or slink back to the nearest med center?". As far as I can recall, this is the only cutscene that can do this. Jadus hits you so hard you stop being cinematics and start being game mechanics. /Description]

And here's where I let up on the (slightly) serious tone. Because I love this performance dearly, but wow. Wow. He really just says all those things, doesn't he.

"I believe in the democratization of fear," the giant space-gimp tells you, and you believe he believes that, whatever the ass that means.

Because at that point, you really don't know. He's not slowing down to explain this to you, because you are, as far as he's concerned, unimportant. He's not yet aware that you're the main character of the plot line. No, really, I'm only barely joking. He figures it out eventually, but at the moment he's got something else on his mind: screwing over his coworkers.

As I previously described, the Sith Empire largely runs under the control of twelve unhinged cybergoths known as the Dark Council: turnover is often quick and violent, as rival lords vie for Council seats. Those that survive longer than a few years are uniformly the most powerful and canny among the Sith. They are the most competent at foiling their rivals, maintaining their influence, and administering their respective spheres of influence that underpin an interstellar Empire.

And most of them hate at least one part of that job description, and are constantly scheming on how to undermine the others so they can be left alone to do the parts they actually want to do. How dare everyone else make this difficult for them. How dare Darth Vowrawn be having a good time doing all of this.

Darth Jadus, when the story begins, is one of these Dark Councilors, and he doesn't hate it as much as the rest. He hates it more. He hates it weirder. And despite never engaging in the weekly backstabbery of the Council, the rest all know he's got something long-term cooking. It's just that nobody's been able to figure out what it is. They are correct, but nobody seemed to realize how seriously he was committed to sparkle motion.

I already previewed his invisible biomechanical laser satellites at the top, but withheld any of his reasons for doing that. So... why is he doing that?

Jadus has gotten fed up with the Dark Council, and with Sith in general. For years, he's been something of an outcast among them for radical ideas like "aliens and slaves are also people" and "Sith aren't the specialest little critters in the universe" and "we should stop fighting each other all the time", and the actual radical ideas like "everyone regardless of circumstance or ability should experience the benefits of the Dark Side, such as its limitless abyss of hatred and terror".

Yes, this man is a socialist, but specifically for the redistribution of bad vibes.

So far, his attempts to convince other Sith have been a failure, but he's done surprisingly well among certain parts of the general public. He runs Imperial Intelligence, which is the only part of the government where aliens can find employment, and Force-blind people can rise to the top ranks.

In fact, all of Jadus' personal advisors are Force-blind. He's completely purged both Intelligence and his retinue of Sith. He's known to select slaves and aliens for special roles, specifically because everyone else has overlooked their potential for their entire lives—their loyalty will be uncompromised. He's deeply involved in the affairs of Imperial Intelligence, on a level that other Sith don't usually engage.

And so nobody really notices when he has the Imperial Science Bureau try and implement a funky new technoorganic design, especially when it was quietly shut down because they wouldn't be efficient for the war effort. Did Jadus make any copies of their data? Don't worry about it! Worry about what else Jadus might be doing.

Because over the years, his philosophy and absolutely awful personal vibes have created a literal cult following for him. While that's not unheard of for Sith, Jadus takes it to a higher level. He probably has several manifestos published by this point.

And so nobody really thinks twice when Jadus declares he's going to take a thousand of his followers away on his flagship, spreading his philosophy across the Empire. That's normal Jadus stuff.

If you're me, you'll be sitting there hung up on the fact that his flagship is named the Dominator, because the BDSM vibes are hilariously unsubtle.

What none of them know at this point is that Jadus has packed the Dominator full of explosives, which the player character's starter missions actually were responsible for securing. But we're talking about destroying a massive ship here, surely someone suspected help from the inside?

Well, with how utterly awful Jadus was to be around, nobody who knew him really found it odd that a well-connected, traditionalist, isolationist terrorist group would try to blow him up. Jadus himself says they have aid from within the government. Hilariously, I'm not sure if anyone asked him who, because the answer is him.

But in their defense, everyone in Intelligence was kept distracted because Jadus made the utterly unhinged demand that placed the defense of the capital city's power grid in the hands of the player character, a newbie who hasn't even gotten a cool codename yet.

So when the Dominator blows up with Jadus on board, that's surprising, it means the terrorists are an imminent threat to the Empire, but really, what's so bad about getting rid of Jadus?

Enter Darth Zhorrid, his daughter, sole apprentice and heir, and oh boy she's already electrocuting people

We don't know who's to blame for Zhorrid's zhorrible name—it could be Jadus, it could be one she chose for herself. But we know Jadus is the one responsible for why she's Like This. Or rather, we learn, during what's frankly one of the most distressing scenes in the Agent plotline, which is saying something.

[Video Description: A video I took of Zhorrid's last scene before you enter Act 1's endgame, and content warning. Content warning. She's not in a good way, mostly because of a lifetime of mental health problems brought on by Jadus. Skip it if you need to, it's summarized below. /Description]

Jadus used some literally operatic cruelty to break Zhorrid's mind, but the results evidently weren't what he wanted—when she became irrationally destructive and impulsive as a result, he essentially abandoned her. She mentions that he was always ruthless with himself, identifying and attempting to eliminate his own faults whenever he failed at something. That included Zhorrid herself.

When she takes over her father's Dark Council seat, she's an unprepared mess, and she knows it. She can't keep a hold of Jadus' resources, which the rest of the Council are quick to start stealing from her. To Imperial Intelligence, her top priority is to find out who killed her father, because she wanted to do it first.

Jadus, meanwhile, used his own monstrous strength in the Force to not be incinerated in the destruction of the Dominator. In fact, he held together a large enough portion of the ship that two hundred people were saved with him, covertly transported to another capital ship running silent in deep space.

And because breaking people isn't just something you do with family, Jadus spends the next couple of months driving them all insane.

It's no wonder that years later, when an ancient, eldritch Sith collective encounters the Agent player character, they attempt to recruit the agent on the sole basis of "you were once in the vicinity of Darth Jadus, and we like his vibes."

With Zhorrid's flameout keeping the Council and Intelligence distracted, Jadus's terrorist underlings—who are still pretty sure they actually did kill him—can continue production of these cool technoorganic death satellites he gave them the plans for ages ago. Pay no attention to the fact that this sort of merging of machine and unnatural flesh is usually an ancient Dark Side thing! Everything seems to be going great, and hey what's that player character-shaped person doing over there

The agent, now sporting the very cool codename Cipher Nine, manages to take out a big chunk of the terrorist group's organizational structure, and steal half of the control codes for the death satellites. Jadus didn't see this coming, but he has a solution: bring them to his horrorfest vacation spot and offer them a promotion.

And here's where he starts to start getting uncomfortably close to the fourth wall: Jadus basically states that he didn't realize Cipher Nine was important before, but he won't make that mistake again. Come be his herald. The Hand of Jadus, which is a very cool title for Star Wars folks of a particular age, because it makes you feel like Mara Jade. Give him the command codes, and he'll functionally take over the Empire, and overturn the old Blood Purity laws that kept aliens and slaves from becoming citizens, and also he'll improve their spiritual lives by beginning an 'Epoch of Terror'—

[Video Description: A Cthulhu Mythos parody Christmas carol, "Joy To The World" replaced with "Death To The World, Cthulhu's come. Let Earth! Abhor! This thiiiing!". I don't get to pull these out very often, so here's my excuse. Let me tell you, there are carols that I cannot get through without accidentally falling into singing these instead. "God rest ye merry gentlemen, let everything dismay, remember Great Cthulhu shall rise up from R'lyeh—" /Description]

One of the most delightfully maddening things about Jadus as a character is that he mixes perfectly reasonable and even laudable ideas with pure eldritch nonsense. If Cthulhu were about to rise from the depths of R'lyeh, to awaken the Great Old Ones and drive the world mad under the crushing weight of their very existence, Jadus would be messing with labor laws so everyone could take time off work for the holiday.

At this point, the player has a choice. One of the most impactful in the entire game, actually: Do you let him win? Because you can actually take this deal. Maybe your character believes the Empire is so moribund that it needs to be pushed into collapse. May they've been pushed to madness themself by what they've experienced to get there. Maybe they earnestly believe Jadus's mix of structural reform and transcendental religion is good and necessary. You can give him the control codes, and allow him to ascend to even greater power, upon a tide of destruction that shall henceforth be known as Eradication Day.

Or you could not do that. I'll get back around to the above option in a second, but, y'know, most people who aren't me probably don't say "I like your vibe, let's see where this goes." This is a madman. Even if your character believes the Empire needs change, does it need him? Probably not! You've seen what he did to his daughter, and to the survivors of the two hundred he brought with him for his Deluxe Event Horizon Experience. They're not doing so great.

But how to deal with him? Jadus is generally acknowledged as the second most powerful Sith in the Empire, after the Emperor himself. The Emperor is, essentially, a god. Your character is a covert operative with a cool spaceship and some James Bond gadgets.

And because the game's power balance has been altered so completely over its long life, allowing players to just focus on the story if they so choose, you can pretty easily win his boss fight. Welp.

[Video Description: From YT user FemaleKay IsBest, beginning at the decision point and skips over the boss fight because really it's perfunctory anyway. I always find it somewhere between funny and unnerving, how quickly Jadus goes from audibly pissed off to calmly biding his time while he waits for his chance to escape. He's still angry enough to bite someone if he had the mask off, but he's devastatingly practical for a mandman. /Description]

In story though, you don't kill him. A fleet's on the way to back you up, you just distract him long enough to trap him in a place where he can't escape their bombardment. If it actually happened. Because at that point, Jadus surrenders.

Huh. So he's still alive. Headed for execution at the hands of the other Sith, but that's the last you hear. They never actually confirm if they killed him or not.

Or, alternatively, you can give him the command codes to distract him, then sabotage the ship, rigging it to explode. Jadus escapes, but without the command codes—he can't maintain control of his superweapon deterrent against his foes. Again, that's the last you hear of him.

Or or, extra-alternatively, you can simply convince Jadus that he's lost. No really! You can give him a full tactical assessment of his situation, how you've got all the angles covered, and shoot down his counter-arguments. He'll push you hard. He'll actually start to sound angry, the first and last strong emotion he'll ever show you.

And then he just calms down and declares that you've won, and he's leaving now. He hates you, but respects you.

[Video description: From YT user Invisible Shadow, talking Jadus into giving up. You can skip a few bossfights in the game by talking your way around them, but this ends an entire third of the game. I've never done this route, but I won't deny, it is extremely satisfying to watch. /Description]

Everyone is left wondering what in the fine flying fuck just happened.

No matter what you do, Jadus survives, something that many players actually missed—if they chose the most bog-standard, videogame-y path, they assumed he died off-screen. I've seen some of them actually misremember killing him personally. Nope! His survival was implied from day one, it was teased a bit in the expansions, but now it's been (pretty much) confirmed: Jadus is alive, like the biggest, most unkillable cockroach in the galaxy. Good for him! And gooder for him, if you let him win.

[Video Description: From YT user xLetalis, featuring their Agent joining Darth Jadus. Content warning again, because you do get a boss fight in this version: it's Zhorrid. Other decisions end with her dead offscreen, but in this one, Jadus orders you to go kill her. Again, worst dad of the game. /Description]

Because this isn't an empty choice. SWTOR is limited in how much it can show differences visually, because unlike later titles such as Elder Scrolls Online, it can't do visual alterations to game maps shared with other characters. What it can do is alter dialog, and quite a lot of characters have something to say about the new regime, and your place in it.

And off in special little instanced corners of the game, you can actually get special scenes that nobody else does. This is where Jadus lurks. What's he doing? Stuff.

No really, we don't actually hear much about his overarching plans. There's cult rituals going on in the streets, he's successfully traumatized an entire Empire, but he's not derailing the overarching plot of the game, because he's made a strategic decision: he can't fight the Emperor. That would be suicide. And the Emperor wants a war with the Republic and the Jedi for some reason, so Jadus won't stop that. If it was up to him? Doesn't seem like it would happen! Jadus never actually mentions the Jedi. He only makes passing mention of the Republic.

Let's note that at this point in Star Wars as a piece of fiction, the one thing the Sith had always been so down for was destroying the Jedi and toppling the Republic. The fact that Jadus manifestly did not give a shit about either is part of what made him so strange.

What he does care about is why the Emperor is doing this. While most of the Agent plot proceeds as normal through its second act, you do receive an order partway through: steal encrypted data from the Emperor's guards. Help Jadus determine the Emperor's plans.

And at the start of Act Three, Jadus declares that he's discovered what the Emperor's doing. He also declares that he's leaving the game.

[Video Description: from YT user The Youtube Acolyte, playing as an Agent named Thrauw'n because everyone who plays Chiss, including myself, has a crush on Thrawn. Anyway--Man just fuckin! Leaves! Absolute skeleton meme behavior. Also, Jadus can mention here "I see the shape of the galaxy as only five others can", which is a line that is NEVER explained. His closest philosophical match is found in the Dread Masters, but there's six of them. Candidates I've seen include the Emperor, Lord Scourge, Revan, Kreia, the Exile, the Jedi Knight and Consular player characters, Darth Malgus, Darth Acina, the Shroud, the First Son, and the list goes on because nobody is even sure what Jadus MEANS here about 'the shape of the galaxy'. Do I think this line will be followed up on? Absolutely not! I firmly believe it will continue to stand as a goddamn mystery. Tune back in after his storyline updates to find out if Jadus decided to mess with me specifically. /Description]

No, really. Jadus just abandons the Empire and leaves. Sure, he leaves you with enhanced authority, though he cautions you that it does paint a massive target on your back, and gives you his blessing to continue trying to unravel a massive conspiracy—possibly because he's realized the conspirators could accidentally help trigger the end of all life in the galaxy. Whoops.

Because what Jadus doesn't actually tell you is what the Emperor is up to. The Emperor is working on a ritual that makes use of death on a massive scale to trigger a chain reaction that will kill everything and feed its life force into himself, becoming a truly transcendent and eternal being. In fact, if you're playing the Agent plot, you never get explicitly told about this. You just show up to work one day and the rest of the Sith have collectively declared Fuck That and no longer acknowledge the Emperor's authority.

Why didn't Jadus reveal this? Well, he's not exactly popular among the Sith, given how he's a weird nerd who has orbital death lasers pointed at their house. They probably wouldn't believe him. His dialog also gives off the hilarious vibe that he knows this is the start of Act Three and that he's a second-tier villain, this is the point at which the plot would traditionally kill him off to show how serious the situation is. He's not a fan of that, so he elects to go find somewhere sufficiently off-screen that the plot can't touch him. This maniac is somehow the most genre-savvy villain in the game.

Also, he does make the very concerning comment that "whether [the Emperor] succeeds or fails, I grow stronger." I have no idea if he's lying or not, but most of his dialog is at least his truth to some extent or another. Does he believe he could hijack the ritual as a last resort? Maybe! Who knows! No matter what you as the player have done up until this point, Jadus has reacted in whatever way he thinks will ensure maximum success and his own survival. He obviously wasn't planning on just dying in the Emperor's ritual, so he had something he was working on to avoid that.

We never find out what that might be. Frankly, I'm not sure the writers truly knew what that was, because they didn't need to. His arc was done, and he could leave just as strangely as he'd done everything in the first place.

And that was the end of Jadus for a very long time. In the first few expansions, you could continue to invoke your title as the Hand of Jadus, if that was the path you chose. After that, the plot folded together in a way that smoothed out the differences between player characters in many ways. Oh, sure, people with history with you will react differently. If you're playing an Agent, you alone can continue to hang out with one of your former companions: a nice young man who's packed full of ants, who's possibly your lover and is good friends with a secret agent doctor were-zombie.

I really will have to ramble about the Agent companions at some point.

But one thing that was consistent for everybody: when an extremely weird crisis strikes the galaxy, one of the people considered as a culprit is Darth Jadus.

For those who haven't played the Agent plot, this is a "Who?" moment. He never appears in any other plotline. He is only the sleep paralysis demon of folks at Imperial Intelligence, in part because his potential plot ramifications are too large to account for. Canon probably defaults to him failing in his takeover, but most Dark Side-aligned player plots make all the Dark Side choices canon, and it's hard to get Dark Side-ier than allowing tens of thousands to die so that "all people will revel in fear and degradation. These prizes will no longer be hoarded by Sith."

I cannot stress enough how unhinged this man's goals are.

[Video Description: The new trailer, which gives us the one glimpse we have of New and Improved Jadus so far. Fun fact, Malgus is 77 and Jadus is 65 here, because the Sith are just inherently incapable of retiring from their shenanigans, ever. Vowrawn is 93 at this point and entirely powered by shenanigans alone. I was mixed on Jadus's new look, until a friend pointed out he looks like some sort of emerging plant, and I realized the collar reminded me a bit of a Rafflesia. Parasitic, grows to titanic proportions, and smells like rotting meat. So I've come around on it, obviously. Malgus' voiceover is cut to be vaguing about "corrupt doctrines" in regards to Jadus, which I find hilarious. He did technically embezzle Imperial funds to research his superweapons, but the rest of that was all outsourced. Unless we're talking about "corruption" in terms of "messing with people's brains", in which case, yes. He do be out there, corrupting the minds of the youth. And everybody who isn't youth. Possibly even some rocks, if they're smart enough. /Description]

So, that's where we are at this point. I have no idea how things will go from here. My hope is that Jadus will return as the highly strategic, transcendental weirdo he always was before. It's actually been fun having him just out there somewhere, because it's meant the mystique couldn't be messed with. I'd actually accept it if they brought him back to kill him, but ideally if it happened in such a baffling fashion that you're left uncertain if he intended for that to happen.

But before the game potentially expands on him and his motivations, I want to get out a couple of my own interpretation of what we've seen: Jadus is unique among the Sith. Among the Empire. And he is not yet perfect. And he wants both to change.

Something happened in his past that pushed him deep into the Dark Side, something that broke his world apart and reformed it into something new. Since then, he's tried and failed to explain it to others. He doesn't have a perfect understanding of what happened to him, how to lead others to the same state, or how to push himself further. As a result, he tried to raise his daughter in such a way to induce the same revelations he experienced, and failed. That failure took years, and he couldn't afford such a costly loss again.

So instead of the personal, controlled approach, he would mass-produce the shattering of minds. The whole point of the drama and wanton destruction of his plan was to traumatize billions, trading precision for sheer quantity. The vast majority would fail, becoming fuel for his continued growth in power. But surely, someone would react as he had.

This obviously isn't a selfless enterprise on his part. He is a ruthlessly practical lunatic, and when he reaches the limits of his capability, he abandons the project. We don't know if he succeeded in what he wanted from his takeover. We don't actually know if he took anyone with him when he left. He made it clear that his Hand would not follow him where he was going, though we know some in Intelligence kept sending him reports that received no reply, and we have some potential indication that he was still actively monitoring his Hand's activities. Which at that point mostly involved getting the stuffing knocked out of them by the entire galaxy all at once, which Jadus probably considered character-building.

Do I have any idea whether these are intended reads on the character? No. I'm not privy to the authorial decisions made during the writing of Mr. Darth "Under my rule, all people will revel in fear and degradation" Jadus. I don't know if the original intent will be preserved either, thirteen years down the road.

But man. Man. What a transfixingly weird guy they've created here. Jadus is memorable because he twists so much of what we've come to expect from Sith into something different, with enough left unexplained to keep you wondering. Or at least, keep me wondering. Let's be real, Jadus as a villain probably appeals most to a very specific subset of people with goth tendencies and spicy brains, who look at HP Lovecraft and think "what if these cosmic horrors were more inclusive in the worst way possible?"

I'm glad to see him back. I'm afraid of what might happen with him. He's poised to drive me insane, no matter what happens. And that's precisely how he'd prefer it.