#it makes the whole setup feel forced

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 7 - page 10/?

original word count: 5525

revised word count: 2742

click for ch 7's full comparison document.

original:

At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. “You’re High Fae,” I said tightly. “I’d ask why you’d even bother inviting me here at all—or dining with me.” Fool—I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, “True. But indulge me: you’re a human woman, and yet you’d rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this”—he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face—“surely we’re not so miserable to look at.” Typical faerie vanity and arrogance. That, at least, the legends had been right about. I tucked the knowledge away. “Unless you have someone back home. Unless there’s a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.” There was enough dismissal there that I took a little bit of satisfaction in saying, “I was close with a man back in my village.” Before that Treaty ripped me away—before it became clear that you are allowed to do as you please to us, but we can hardly strike back against you. Tamlin and Lucien exchanged glances, but it was Tamlin who said, “Are you in love with this man?” “No,” I said as casually as I could. It wasn’t a lie—but even if I’d felt anything like that for Isaac, my answer would have been the same. It was bad enough that High Fae now knew my family existed. I didn’t need to add Isaac to that list.

revised:

Tamlin swirled his wine. “Do you love him?” “No,” I said casually. It wasn’t a lie, but for some reason, warmth bloomed in my cheeks. “Is there anyone else you do love?” he said. A laugh burst out of me. “Is that really what you want to know? If I find you more handsome than human men? If I have a suitor back home?” “Well, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with topics of conversation yourself,” Lucien said. Tamlin shrugged his broad shoulders. “We just want to learn more about you. Go rest. If you need anything, ask the staff.” “Thank you,” I said, not feeling grateful at all. He nodded and motioned for me to leave. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and smiled. I slept fitfully that night. The lock on my bedroom door felt like a joke. I woke before sunrise and lay staring at the ceiling as light crept between the drapes. Any other morning, I’d already be striding through the woods, trying to not waste a moment of precious sunlight, listening to the drowsy chatter of winter birds. Here, it was silent. The enormous bed felt foreign and empty. A small part of me missed the warmth of my

[sadlazzle]

tbh i sincerely hope none of u here r elden beast apologists. i don’t wanna hear shit abt it ‘making sense for the lore’ for there to be no torrent elden beast is a boss MADE for torrent. this last attempt i only managed to hit this massive space cunt twice, the rest of the time i spent catching up to him, and every time i did he fucked off to the other side of the arena again. arguably the worst boss in the game which rlly sucks bc it’s the final boss and tbh i expect better frm fromsoft and i dont think im wrong to. elden beast rlly doesn’t hit the mark the same as any other final bosses for me, though i will say it’s only marginally worse than soul of cinder, but for completely different reasons, and not even SoC being from ds3 can save elden beast frm this unfortunate ranking

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is a RACK focused best practice guide to doing a drowning scene, more specifically a scene where you're repeatedly forcing your victims head under the water. These are my suggestions based on extensive research but they are only theoretical i haven't got to do this to anyone yet. If you have actual experience id love to hear from you please.

Pre-scene setup

Learn CPR. This is the single thing that I'm going to say is mandatory, everything else is just a suggestion this isn't. If worst comes to worst and your victim is drowning you need to be able to save their life.

Learn your victim. How do they react in pain, when they're scared or panicking, where are there mental breaking points. Especially helpful to have done breath play with them before, how long can they hold their breath, how hard will they fight, what are their non verbal cues. Are they the type of person who will push their limits past the danger point, are you comfortable shutting the scene down when they're begging you to continue.

Figure out your nonverbal communication. A safeword is important but not nearly enough for a scene like this. Their head is going to be underwater most if the time and they'll probably be struggling and fighting. What signs can they make to tell you to stop or slow down under these conditions. I would suggest giving them something to hold that can make noise, a squeaky toy or a clicker or something similar, with which to signal you.

During the scene

Use warm water. Cold water adds a whole plethora of new problems significantly increasing the risk. I'm not sure of the exact temperature but I think it should be either room temperature so your victim doesn't feel a temperature difference between the air and the water, or body temperature so the water doesn't change their core temperature. (If you'd like to use cold water or even ice water, if that's part of the appeal, ill happily figure out the additional risks in exchange for a video of you drowning your victim ^.^)

Watch their face. Like any other form of breath play hypoxia is a major risk. This post isn't about breath play, I'm assuming you know all those risks and how to manage them before you do something like this.

Start slow. Put your hand on their head but let them submerge themselves and then come back up when they're ready. This will get them used to the sensation and you used to the rhythm. Slowly increase pressure and intensity until you're forcing their head under and pulling it up against their will.

Have the person fill their lungs to capacity before submerging them. The reason being they will have to breath out before they breath water back in so as soon as you see the first sign of bubbles you can pull them out.

After care

This scene will be intense so the aftercare needs to be too. Again this post isn't about proper aftercare I'm assuming you know how to do that if you're doing something like this. But in addition to the usual.

Have a plan for monitoring your victim for the next 72 hours. There are two major complications that can occur after a drowning incident and both can take days to present themselves. The first is when a persons throat spasms and closes, this is supposed to happen when they initially inhale water but can happen much later. The signs to look out for include persistent coughing, irregular breathing, dizziness, confusion, and foam around the mouth and nose. The second is when water gets deep into the lunges it can cause fluid to build up which inhibits gas exchange causing the person to slowly suffocate. The signs to look out for can include coughing up blood, excessive sweating, anxiety, pale skin, and a crackling sound when breathing deeply. If your victim shows any of these signs get them to a medical professional asap, don't risk it these will both cause very painful death.

Enjoy ^.^

[dragonmuse]

Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.

[shoutydwarf]

veilguard spoilers !

literally None of these characters are above b tier for me except davrin and that's carried by him being a grey warden that doesn't need me to therapy speak him into being fixed.

sorry to be a toxic origins bro on main but my favorite characters are always the ones that don't recognize me as the player character pressing the buttons. their development isn't contingent on me making choices for them. they have opinions i don't agree with and which i can't change their mind on, a la vivienne/anders. alistair is one of my top companions because he has LINES in the motherfucking SAND. he will be your brother and/or your lover for the entire game but if you don't put his vengeance above your duty to the wardens, he will leave, if not attempt to seize power and force his ends. same for most all other origins and 2 companions (and inquisition to a lesser degree) - A. the option EXISTS to fundamentally piss them off to the degree they will want to kill you, and B. some of them literally WILL try to kill you. that's how roleplaying games are supposed to work. i am supposed to be a person in this world surrounded by other people in this world and i expect it to feel like that. moreso, i know they CAN make it feel like that, because they DID that in all 3 previous games.

there is no way to fail loyalty missions in VG. characters are so lukewarm that the guild of looting, pirating thieves exercises ethical tomb raiding and does monologue you about it. not a single one has any opinion that beckons you to use your brain cells. these characters do not evoke any emotion from me. i could write whole think pieces on why vivienne has the disposition that she does, why she thinks she's right, why i fundamentally disagree with her but still greatly empathize with her and consider her the best option for divine (out of 2 other companions that are just as complex). i have NOTHING to say about the veilguard companions. there is NOTHING to talk about here.

every single one of their villains are entirely one dimensional and unforgivable. THAT is the true disney aspect of the game. loghain, meredith, samson, calpernia, bhelen, branka, the architect, celene and gaspard, even fucking HOWE all have nuances and complexities to them that, even if you still end up at the conclusion that they're awful, you still have some things to think about. there are reasons leading up to their descents into cruelty and madness beyond just "me wanted power :p for fun :p"

this is also part of why davrin is the only memorable character for me; his villain was someone i knew and, frankly, the only interesting one out of the entire lot but only because she had an entire book's worth of setup. harding's was also great but because of the larger issue with zero catharsis for the titans, i have to kick her down several tiers with the rest of Mid Town.

don't get me started on the hardening system and how it can literally only happen to a single companion as a consequence to a single choice in the entire game. and then that 'hardening' actually has no bearing on their loyalty missions or, in neve's case, their romance.

the game does not make me think at all. it is designed to be consumed but not digested. there is nothing beyond the curtains. there is nothing to discuss. there is no nuance, no spice, no complexity, no grey areas. all that exists to talk about here is "i liked this part" and "i didn't like this part".

it is, like too fucking much of modern media, brain rot soup. and it doesn't even taste good.

[solacefish]

✎ File contents - Sebastian Solace x Reader ( 1.3k )

⎙ Examination Results - Sebastian can't handle company, the very thought of another's affection or gaze upon him could make him throw up. So he takes it out on you, by mistake.

⌕ Research Gathered - Angst, Yelling and arguments, Unrequited ( suggested requited ) love, Mentions of his experiments + transformation, Mentions of death, Sebastian can't open up ™.

What did it mean to be loved? What did it mean to love?

Was the dull ache at the bottom of his heart - muffled by mutations and a scarring of who he once was. The tales of his childhood, the sounds of a youth he could never return to. Was that what he longed for? What he dreamt of?

Sebastian didn't dream, he didn't recall the last restful night. Memories stirred between azure eyes, eyes that weren't his own. Nightmares seemed a too gentle term to refer, and terrors wouldn't fully commit to the sickness he felt upon awakening.

The night was the same as any other, having passed out by his desk - having never remembered otherwise. Awoken by the sounds of screaming, echoes of his own against those cold damp facility walls. Never a current sound, always a reminiscent of what had happened to get him into this mess. Always.

Had he remembered to take melatonin from the many drawers that littered the science departments, had he bothered to look at all. The feeling of being lulled, forced, to sleep against his will by medication was not something he happened to be fond of. Not at all.

Running a hand through charcoal locks, hearing the footsteps of an expendable from the outer corridors. Not a moment of rest down here, none were allowed. Had you taken time to rest, you'd have to be risking your life. Urbanshade didn't seem too fond of waiting longer then 5 minutes for their prisoners to move, he'd crossed enough corpses and brain paintings to know.

Awfully so, a facility so willing to kill upon the smallest disturbance.

The expendable crawled through the vent, standing unproud with a ripped wetsuit and cracked mask. Lucky your oxygen tank hadn't been chipped, this whole place was filled with water. He smiles, clasping his hands together and gesturing vaguely to the items that adorned his scales.

"Welcome back .. You already know how this goes, hm?"

He'd recognised you. The one who cannot stay gone - a dead man walking as much as he is. Both of you didn't expire when you were supposed to, and for that you suffer in agony every day.

You nodded, wordlessly walking over to pick up a medkit. He'd noticed a few scratches, a limp on your left leg. Perhaps you'd twisted your ankle, there was enough to run from down here. Enough exercise to be had. They could open a gym, it might be a worthy investment. Rather then experimenting, try new yoga...

"How much?" You look up, and he returns the gaze. Thinking for just a moment, enough to act like he hasn't spent the hours and months down here memorising and practicing the exact amounts of data hed request for each thing he scavenged.

"200. No discount services, never have been. You've been here before, haven't you?" His voice is louder then he remembered. After so long without speaking, he'd forgotten how different the services Urbanshade had cost him from who he was.

You nod, opening the box and immediately giving yourself time to tend to your injuries. wrapping it around a wrist, a leg, anyplace with the crimson bleed that ached to be seen. Sebastian didn't mind the company, but the feeling of nausea that came across his chest the longer you remained was hard to ignore.

"Sebastian," A voice, your voice, brings him back for just a moment. You notice the look in his eyes, and he stirrs where he's stationed for just a moment. "You can talk to me, you know? We're friends, aren't we?"

Friends. Was this a comedy setup?

Sebastian's jaw ached for a moment, letting out an exhale as he remembered the bleeding of his teeth upon his own gums. Whilst biting his tongue and gritting his teeth used to work - it happened to be much more painful after the experiments took place. Unfortunate, but with his humanity stripped away, some sass as a defence wouldn't hurt him as much.

"I don't talk, not to you." He responded bitterly, as if he was straining his voice to keep himself in check. "You remember where you're standing." A huff blew some of the locks out from his face. He didn't see you as any worth, the data you served him so happily was enough to satisfy, however the company wasn't something he was interested in.

"It's nice to open up," You begin, "I know where i'm stood, and I don't mind sitting to be here for you. You're a great guy, honestly, and you need a shoulder to cry on like any other person."

He feels his restraint snap, just a moment. A resistance of a rubber band that had been stretched by a child that moment too far - flicking it at somebody else wasn't enough.

"Don't you fucking dare to call me that." He retorted, his voice echoing off the walls. Sebastian swore he could hear those screams again, of a 19 year old with a life ahead of them. A good person? Were you serious? Were you blind?

A man framed of 9 murders, a man who turned it to 50. How to live with the guilt he was what they made him out to be. A living weapon, with a maw for shredding and tearing, and a claw meant to slide across a throat like butter. To look in a puddle of his self reflection and call himself good? He might as well have let the side effects take him.

You'd flinched, he had noticed, but he hadn't cared. He wanted to make himself clear, for the first time in a long time, to be heard. If you were an unfortunate soul who'd be the one to take his frustrations like a sponge, then he can be the ocean to accompany.

"I'm just trying to help!" You state, he growls. Every bone in his body wanted him to lunge, to rip you apart. The human heart caged beneath the ribs that told him to stop, that ached to be sensitive and free. The DNA that told him to attack, to prowl.

His body was at a war with itself, to tear itself apart. He would never have won.

"I don't need anybodies help!" He yelled, the fins in place of his ears were pinned firmly to the sides of his head. You'd shook your head, and he noticed the reflex that had made you take a step back. You were scared of him. Of the monster before you - had you only just realised he was a predator? He was not ever your friend.

"Please-! I love you-!" The words burst through your lips as the same as sebastians breathing worsens. He can't handle it, it's too much. The sickness of bile in his throat, the acid that threatened to release itself. He wasn't lovable, there was nothing to be adored or admired. You were lying to him, you were pitying him.

"Get out!" There's defiance, the rejection to your words. His body ached, his heart hurt. To be loved was a curse, to love was an unknown. With his breathing heavy, a loud crash as he slammed the vent cover back after you'd scrambled out. He could never be in control of a body that wasn't his to begin with.

Sebastian clutched the sides of his head, the serpentine tail curling around his helpless body. The unfamiliar limbs that tore his soul apart. He could never let himself. He could never see himself ever again.

He hated what it meant to be loved. He hated to be seen, to be known. He hated what they'd done to him, what had become of him. To be loved was to be lied to - to love was to deceive.

Seabstian could apologise later. But he hoped you'd never return. He didn't deserve to await you.

taglist ; @fl1ghtl3ssdrag0n

[theemporium]

What about Max maxplaining Trouble? Like not to Trouble, but about Trouble to someone. He’s just gushing about her or maybe he’s telling someone that no they can’t do “x” b/c that’s not the way Trouble prefers it done. And everyone is just so confused about why Max knows something so random about Trouble.

kinda made this into a wee sick fic but enjoy! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Max, I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Sorry for taking your health seriously. Now, give Danny the phone.”

If someone told you that Max Verstappen was an overbearing mother hen before you met him, you would have laughed in their face. You had heard many things about him, and that certainly wasn’t one you would have believed. Even in the early stages of your friendship, you would have never really pegged him as the type. He was caring, yes. 

But this? This was a whole new level.

You were sick. Nothing crazy or insane, just a simple flu that left you feeling a bit under the weather and longing for your bed. But apparently to Max, it was equivalent to you being on your deathbed. 

Unfortunately for him, he had to fly out to England for a few meetings at the factory that required his presence. He tried arguing Christian over the phone about it, but ultimately lost that battle and was forced to take his private jet out.

You made the mistake in thinking that you would be able to get a few days of quiet rest to recover. Because only mother hen Max Verstappen would send someone to do exactly what he would do if he was able to stay by your side.

“Did you get her a blanket?”

Daniel tried to suppress his laughter and remain serious as he held your phone in his hand, watching Max on the screen scrutinising every little detail about your setup in your bed.

“Yes, I—”

“You got the wrong blanket,” Max stated bluntly.

You sighed. “Max, it’s fine—”

“Stop saying that, schatz, when it’s not,” Max retorted before his focus returned to the Aussie. “She likes the cream one in the hallway cupboard. Should be on the third shelf.”

Daniel nodded. “Right, got it.” 

“Did you get her medicine?”

“Oh yeah,” Daniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I got her some cough syrup from the pharmacy down the—”

“Which flavour?”

“Cherry,” Daniel said.

Max scoffed. “Mate, she hates cherry. You need to get the orange flavoured one.”

“Max,” you groaned as you nuzzled yourself further into the endless amount of pillows your boyfriend had made Daniel surround you in. “Cherry is fine. I just have to take a spoonful once a day, or whatever it is.”

“Three times a day,” Max said, his brows furrowed together. “And you hate artificial cherry flavouring. You said it makes you want to throw up.”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“I’ll get her the orange flavoured one,” Daniel said with a laugh, finding it adorable how caring Max was. “Anything else, helicopter boyfriend?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Max grumbled. “But yes. I have left menus on the kitchen counter, I’ll send you what she likes and what she wants to get but always refuses until it’s in front of her. Also, there should be a list of movies I sent you that are her comfort movies that you can—”

“This is creepy, Verstappen, it’s like you’re my stalker or something,” you muttered, even if your heart was swooning at the small details he remembered about you.

“Lil’ Maxie just loves his Trouble,” Daniel grinned wildly. “He doesn’t shut up about you. He could probably go on for hours if we let him.”

“More like days,” Max corrected before he continued to explain everything you would need to his friend, whilst you laid there with a fond smile on your face.

.

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Playing phasmophobia with some of the hazbin men.

Like, imagining playing phasmophobia with Adam who's pretending to be all big and tough but is fucking horrified so reader has to guide him through the game, and at the end he takes all the credit for it.

Or playing with Lucifer who starts out horrified and possibly starts getting better at it after reader comforts him, and makes reader play it all the time so he can get all the achievements and have reader be proud of him. I feel like eventually he'd get less scared because he'd rationalize it as being unrealistic.

Playing phasmophobia on vox's screen whilst sitting in his lap

Lucifer

You two were sitting in the same room, two laptops you had snuck in from VoxTech going with the famed Phasmaphobia. It took a lot of convincing to get your boyfriend, the King of Hell, to play this game with you. You wouldn't say he was afraid; more like he didn't care for the possibility of the unknown; jumpscares were the unknown.

As you two booted into the game, there were many hiccups from mic feedback to glitches, even Lucifer dying randomly from Despawn and just getting to watch you freak out. Over time, though, things were in a smooth groove, and you two were completing mission after mission. Yes, some scares still got Lucifer. Who wants to see a small child crouch walking past you. He was good at finding the evidence and surpassed you in EXP in only a handful of games.

Alastor

He was not a fan of you cramming him into your room with computers set up. He already hated modern technology, so why force him to? The way you lit up, though, made asking to play this stupid game worth it. Swallowing his pride, he joined you in playing the scary Ghost game. Though he didn't jump once, he enjoyed watching you get scared.

As the gaming session continued, he still had a distaste for anything technological, but he was having a good time with you. He managed to streamline the game much faster than you, so that way, while you were being chased and screaming, he was completing the game on the side. He still made you remove the computers afterward, but he wouldn't mind playing another game some other time.

Adam

He was not a fan of the scary ghost game in the slightest. The minute he opened his bedroom door to you having a whole gaming setup with the title screen playing, he was hoping you were just joking. However, as he sat down and began playing, he realized quickly this was really hell, not down below.

While you cackled and laughed at his disdain, he clung to you like a small child. He hated everything about it and always died first haunt. Eventually, he would get over his fears just to turn into a rage baiter. As soon as he learned all the hiding spots, he would purposefully trigger ghost events to fuck with you or get you killed first.

Husk

He watched you play more than anything. When he entered, he was exhausted from work and didn't want to use his brain any more than he had to. This was fine by you, as having him comment on the whole experience was far more fun than playing with you. He would scream and yell at your little character or the ghosts as they popped up. He had fun acting like he was watching a personal horror movie for free.

Since he is good at games, he picks up on little things that make your experience better. That way, you can have the most enjoyable playtime but still always get the ghost right. Just like his impressive memory with Poker, he memorizes all the mannerisms of the ghosts and the utilities it takes to find them.

Vox

There is no playing with Vox, only against him, with him having the better advantage. Since he is the internet, he will just play the ghost for you. While you hunt him down, he does everything in his power to scare you and make you jump. Of course, you have to play on his lap, where he can hold you still and calm you if it becomes too much.

He likes to take himself out of the screen, though, and actually play with you, only to help you complete the challenges you want. He knows it can be hard playing against him; he is the best, after all, so a little reprieve and fun can be had.

[moondustmonster]

Teshai the Naga (Cismale!naga x gn!reader)

WARNINGS!!!! This fic contains dark themes of abuse, being attacked, implied attempted r!pe, blood, and the attacking of others. If you are sensitive to any of these themes, please skip this work.

Summary: After a painful breakup, you seek refuge in a remote cabin in the woods, hoping to heal. As you settle in, strange occurrences make you feel watched, leading to the discovery of Teshai, a reclusive naga who has been observing you from afar. Though wary at first, you gradually warm to his presence as he begins leaving gifts and showing signs of courtship. Just as you decide to accept his affection, your manipulative ex unexpectedly returns, forcing you to confront your past and realize the depth of Teshai's protective love.

Moving to this small cabin in the woods was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to heal from the emotional wounds left by your ex-boyfriend. His sudden abandonment of you had chipped away at your self-esteem. Leaving you anxious and weary, his parting words still circled your brain even though he was long gone. Spring was in full bloom though, and the idea of the tranquil woods filled you with hope for peace and solitude. That maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

The first few weeks were uneventful, yet a creeping feeling of being watched nagged at you. You brushed it off as residual paranoia, remnants of the toxic relationship and a few too many horror movies with eerily similar setups. But as time went on, the signs became undeniable. Shadows moved just beyond your vision, small objects in your garden were often misplaced, and you even found traces of something large moving through the underbrush around your cabin when you went on your daily hikes.

One evening, as you were planting herbs in your garden near the forest's edge, you felt the presence again. Thinking quickly you grabbed the trowel lying by your side and carefully manoeuvred it so that you could see behind you, hopefully without looking inconspicuous, and gasped. There, emerging from the shadows, was a large naga. His long black hair framed a face with striking mocha skin, and his lower body was that of a brown snake, coiling and uncoiling with a grace that belied his size.

Fear rippled through your body as you watched him silently make his way among the branches overhanging the little area you were in, before he found a spot to settle into comfortably, resting his upper body upon a thick branch and crossing his arms beneath his head. Large black eyes never waver from your form as you continued to pretend that you hadn't noticed his presence.

You had met a couple of other nagas before, each one with startling different personalities and so on the whole you didn't really think anything particularly bad of the race, but this was a stranger. A stranger who had been watching you for several weeks now and had not once attempted to make his presence known other than the few signs you had been, admittingly, lucky to catch.

What did he want?

You continued to watch him watching you quietly from the shadowed treeline, tail wrapping around the branch he was resting on. His eyes never left your figure as you made your way down the line of seedlings needing to be planted, forcing yourself to continue on as if nothing was wrong. The naga had been watching you for almost a month now, studying you from afar and likely taking note of your patterns. He'd been quite careful to keep himself hidden, but the signs left behind hadn't gone unnoticed on your end luckily.

And yet, your mind countered, if he wanted to harm you, wouldn't he have done so already?

In the month that you had been here the only time you had had company over was when the movers had dropped off your things. Even your mail was delivered at the bottom of a long driveway that ran through the woods to your little home. Other than that, you and this stranger were the only ones to grace this area of land with your presence.

Your realtor had mentioned that you had a neighbour, your brain suddenly recalled, and that he lived a few acres away from your own home. Was he this mysterious neighbour, simply curious about who the new person was and deciding whether or not you were worth speaking to? Perhaps he was shy and simply building up courage and learning things to be able to talk about with you. Landing on the more social anxiety side of the introverted spectrum meant that you could understand not knowing what to talk about with strangers and so usually avoided them.

But, you thought as you stabbed viciously into the ground at a particularly hard spot with a huff. If it was true, it did not give him the right to spy on you for almost a month and scare the absolute hell out of you in the process. After planting the last seedling and giving them all a thorough drowning of water from your can you packed up all of your gardening gear and moved to go back into your home. Placing the gardening supplies on the porch, you glanced up to your window and noticed that he had also moved with you, curling and coiling along the branches until he had a better view of inside your home.

And wasn't that a terrifying thought?

Summoning your courage, you decided it was time to confront him, danger and consequences be damned. You turned fully to face him, trowel held firmly in your hand and held it out at arm's length as threateningly as you could. "I know you're there," you called out, your voice trembling slightly. "Who are you and why are you watching me?"

Even from this distance, you could see the naga blink slowly, seeming momentarily surprised. Then, with a smooth, fluid motion, he slid down from the branch and approached you cautiously. "I apologize," he said, his voice deep and soothing. "I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Teshai. I was curious about the new human living in these woods. It's been years since anyone has come here."

You felt a mix of relief and lingering wariness. "You could have just introduced yourself, you know," you huffed, trying to keep your voice steady, as you took in his form. The reflection in the trowel hadn't even come close to his real size. He easily towered over you, even with most of his snake-like body laying curled up on the ground and you on heightened porch, and now that he was closer you could see the gentle ombre shading that left his human belly and scutes a soft golden shade that faded out into a lovely dark shade of brown, the darkest of which was along his spine. Being this close to him also meant that you could see his eyes much better, and what you had thought were pure black orbs had a thick line of bright yellow running along the outer portion.

Teshai nodded, his expression abashed. "You're right, I should have. I was just... uncertain...how you would react. Non-humans, nagas and driders especially, do not have the best...reputation in these parts."

Curiosity getting the best of you, you couldn't help but ask what he had meant. You were from a whole other area of the state, one where most species intermingled and got along remarkably well. Though there were of course rumours and stereotypes of each that circulated, no place could escape bigots after all, but not many beings put stock into them.

Teshai let out a bitter laugh, "A few decades back there was a mass disappearance spree, folks, mostly those of more humanoid form, simply disappeared without a trace. They never found who did it nor where the bodies went, though many suspected that we, as in nagas and driders, were kidnapping folks into the woods and eating them," Teshai leaned back so that he was sitting on his own coils, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes, "It's all a bunch of hogwash of course. Rumours got out of hand because people were scared, and needed someone to blame, and we drew the short end of the stick this time. This house’s occupant," he gestured behind you, "was one of the first to go missing."

Your eyes grew wide at the story, jaw going slightly slack in surprise. Your realtor had most certainly not mentioned a mass disappearance in the village nearby, nor that your house had originally belonged to one of them. They were most definitely getting a mouthful from you in the morning, presuming you survived the night that is.

Teshai chuckled, noticing your surprise and shook his head, seeming to read your thoughts. "You didn't know..." He said, almost as if he were asking you. He leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his fist. "You must not be from anywhere around here. Such thoughts extend to all of the towns neighbouring these woods. It's why your only three neighbours are two nagas and a drider, and your mailman will never go past the box at the end of the drive. Did you not think to question the cheap price of so much land?"

A flush overtook your face at his words. While it was true that you had thought about why the price was nearly a fifth of what you should have been paying for so much acreage, in what you had thought was prime real estate, you had simply assumed you were lucky that no one had wanted this home in such a long time that they kept dropping the prices. Not to mention that it hadn't been you to do the research or been involved in much of the sale process at all, having been near catatonic after your last breakup. It had been your best friend, Rhianna, a kitsune whom, for a second, you thought was actually going to live up to the stereotypes and eat the heart of your ex-lover when she found out what had happened.

You still weren't fully convinced she hadn't sent you to the other side of the state for the sole reason of killing him without your knowledge, but you did trust her care for you and didn't for one second believe that she would place you in harm's way. This meant it was just as probable that she hadn't known, and would end up giving the realtor a mouthful as well, and potentially taking the first flight out here to drag you back away from danger and force you to live on her temple grounds where she could keep a close eye on you, even though it had been her to argue that you needed to get away from everything in the first place.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I didn't know," you admitted, feeling a bit foolish. "But I'm here now, and I don't intend to leave. Can we start over?" You extended your hand towards Teshai, trying to bridge the gap between fear and understanding.

Teshai regarded your hand for a moment before a smile touched his lips. "Of course," he said, gently taking your hand in his, bending over while raising it to his lips to give it a gentle kiss. His touch was surprisingly warm, your brain managed to think as it short-circuited. His hand, you managed to notice, was covered in a splattering of scales and his long fingers ended in a set of wicked claws that made you internally gulp. "Welcome to the neighbourhood, even if my introduction was less than ideal..." He trailed off blinking, and suddenly you realized hadn't told him your name.

Internally shaking your head and smiling impishly you gave it to him with a slight flush, trying your best to ignore the stuttering of your heart as you took your hand back. "The pleasure is mine," you managed to reply, "though I would appreciate it if you kept the stalking down to a minimum in the future, please. I don't mind you stopping by, just let me know you're here. Okay?"

He sheepishly grinned at you, a faint splattering of a blush highlighting freckles made from darker scales spread about his face that you hadn't noticed before, "Okay. "

From that moment, an unexpected friendship began to blossom between you and Teshai. He would visit frequently, always bringing gifts—herbs found deep in the woods, shiny crystals, and even meat he hunted down. Each offering was a gesture of goodwill, and over time, you found yourself looking forward to his visits.

Each time he visited, your guard lowered and the fear and tension eased, replaced by a growing comfort in his presence. Teshai was quickly coming to be one of the best friends you had ever known, even if you only counted a single kitsune in that regard. He was charming, considerate, and eager to help when you needed it. His easy charm and warm eyes pulled you in, and soon you found yourself drawn to his stories and infectious laughter, as he lounged in the trees above while you worked on your garden. He'd tell you all sorts of tales from before the mass disappearances, and he'd listen intently when you spoke in return, never rushing you. It was almost alarming how fast you'd come to care for the naga with the golden eyes and soft, soothing voice.

Lately, though, every time you'd see him there was a fluttering in your heart and a permanent flush on your cheeks.

And so you began leaving gifts of your own.

On your rare trips to town, you would pick up items intended entirely for him. Small bottles of oil to help his scales glisten, rolls of sheer fabric that glittered when the sun hit to make hammocks for him to lounge in, cuts of the most pristine meat that you could afford among many others.

The first time you had given him a gift, a set of gold armbands that had reminded you of the colour of his scutes, his dark skin had flushed darker still as he held it reverently before slipping them on. His black claws traced the twisting snake patterns that were engraved, stuttering out thanks before taking your harvest basket from your hands. He still occasionally got distracted by them whenever the sun happened to hit them, shining brightly like they were his own personal mini suns.

As autumn began to roll around, you realized Teshai's gestures were becoming more than friendly. He started producing more personal presents in the form of cooking your meals or taking over chores, and he was also touching you in some form or another now. A hand on your shoulder here, an end of a tail wrapped around your wrist there, curling around you under the sun as you both lazed about, enjoying doing nothing in the summer heat.

The touch wasn't unwelcome, but it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were almost certain that Teshai knew the effect it was having on you and was continuing on purpose. He'd smirk whenever you blushed, seemingly pleased that he was the cause of such a reaction. And there were other signs too - the lingering gazes, the way he'd let his tail wrap around your legs as you sat near each other, the way he seemed to always be touching you now. You were slowly losing your mind.

At first, you were hesitant. The scars from your past relationship were still fresh, and the idea of starting something new, especially with someone so different, was daunting. Teshai's affectionate gestures caught you off guard, igniting a mixture of excitement and nervousness within you. It was one thing to give him gifts, but it was quite another to accept his advances. He made it so hard though; the more he touched you, the more the fluttering in your chest increased, and the more you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving his caress. Every graze of his tail on your skin sent shivers down your spine and every time he brought you food, the desire to lean against him, to feel the warmth of his body against yours, grew stronger. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea grew on you. Teshai was kind, thoughtful, and protective.

On the night you decided to accept his courtship, you set a cosy dinner for two, eagerly awaiting Teshai's appearance. The forest outside your cabin was alive with the sounds of autumn and a gentle breeze wafted through the open window. You felt a flutter of excitement and anticipation as you thought about the evening ahead. However, as you heard a knock on the door, your heart raced for a different reason. Not expecting anyone else, you eagerly opened the door, only to freeze in shock at the appearance of your ex.

He uttered your name in reverence, reaching out to caress your face but you quickly backed out of his reach.

"Wha-what are you doing here," you managed to stutter out.

"I came to see you, babe," he said, crossing the threshold of your home uninvited. His eyes roamed over your body hungrily; he looked at you as if he owned you. He took another step towards you and you felt your heart jump into your throat. "I've missed you."

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How did he even get here? How did he find you? You stepped back, a cold sweat forming on your neck and your hands grew clammy.

"Missed...me," you repeated slowly. The last encounter with him you had running on repeat. His last words circled your every thought, 'you're not good enough,' 'I deserve more,' 'I've already moved on with someone better,' and so and so forth. The last time you had met he had managed to tear you to shreds, to attack every single insecurity you had before leaving you in your, once-shared apartment.

He had been cruel then, and here he was again with a gleam in his eye that you recognized.

"Mhmm," he drawled, stepping closer again. Your back bumped into the arm of your couch, stopping your retreat as you almost fell over backwards. He was so close now that you could smell his awful cologne, which you had once found appealing. You suppressed a shudder as he reached up, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingers before letting them fall to your arm. He gave you a sly smirk. "I want you back."

Your heart beat like thunder, blood rushing in your ears as your mind tried to understand what was happening. Was this a nightmare? Were you really, hopefully, asleep back in your bed, so nervous about your upcoming date that your brain produced this?

No, you suddenly thought, as his fingers gripped your arms slightly harder than necessary. This was no dream, he was really here and you were trapped between him and your own furniture.

He pressed himself against you, his body flush with yours, and you could feel the weight of him pressing against you.

"Come on, baby," he crooned, his fingers tracing your collarbone now, "didn't you miss me too? I made a mistake, but all can be forgiven, right?" As if he was the one that had gotten his heart trampled on.

You wanted to cry, scream, push him away, anything. But fear immobilized you, and you barely managed to keep in the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. His grip on your arms was too tight now, painful, and the way his eyes raked over you made your skin crawl.

"Why are you being difficult," he asked, his tone turning sharp, when you didn't answer him. "I came all this way to see you. The least you could do is be grateful." He leaned forward, crowding your space and pinning you against the couch.

One of his hands raised up to grip the back of your head, pulling your hair harshly in the process as he forced your head back and slotted his lips against yours. The vile taste of nicotine and beer flooded your senses and you desperately tried to get away from it.

Your hands raised into fists and you banged on his chest to try and get him to release you, simultaneously you tried to pull away but his grip merely tightened causing you to cry out in pain. Taking advantage of your open mouth he shoved his tongue to explore. On reflex you bit down hard, he cried out as blood splurted into your mouth and he pulled away, pushing you back harshly so that you landed on the couch before rolling to the floor, banging your knee on the coffee table in the process. You groaned at the pain before trying to crawl your way to the kitchen.

He hissed as he clutched at his mouth, looking at the blood on his fingers and you could see the flash of anger that rose in his features. He lunged at you, quicker than you could react, and grabbed your ankle, hauling you backwards and away from the kitchen.

"You little-" he spat, and a sense of terror filled you as he straddled your waist, gripping both of your wrists in one hand, and pinning you to the floor. His eyes were wild as he held you down. "I came here to give you a chance to be good, but you just can't behave, can you?"

His grip on your wrists was crushing, and the weight of him on your waist kept you pinned to the floor. You were terrified, your heart beating so fast that you were sure he could feel it through your body. You looked up at him, hoping that he would see the fear in your eyes, but he simply laughed cruelly. "You just can't help yourself, can you? You just need to be a brat." 

He leaned down, his face just inches from yours, and you could feel his breath on your face as he whispered. "That's okay. I can fix that."

He leaned down to kiss you again, your eyes closed in terror before his body weight was suddenly ripped away from you, an angry hiss filled the air followed by your ex's terrified yelping that devolved into choking gasps. Daring to open your eyes, you help but widen them further at the scene before you.

You opened your eyes and had to take a moment to process what you were seeing.

There, standing in your living room, was Teshai, wrapped around your ex like a snake around its prey, pinning him back against a wall by his neck with one hand. His tail was coiled around the man's legs, and his fangs were bared in a snarl that sent a shiver down your spine. He was furious, but there was an underlying edge of possessive anger.

Your ex was struggling, but it was futile. He was utterly trapped.

Teshai had arrived and was holding your ex by his throat tightly enough that it was obvious that he was struggling to breathe. Hands clawed at Teshai's arm uselessly, and he brought your ex closer to his own face. "You will not be fixing anything," he hissed before he struck quickly. Two large fangs, each one easily the size of one of your fingers, protruded from the top of Teshai's mouth before being stuck firmly into the juncture of your ex's neck. There were a couple of more flailing movements from your ex before his limbs dropped to dangle uselessly.

In less time than it took for your terrified eyes to widen and realize what he had just done, your ex went completely still. The life left his limbs but his eyes still danced frantically around, and then Teshai lifted his head, blood staining his lips. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were startled to see the anger still burning in them. So used to seeing him as your beloved friend and lately crush, it was jarring to see the boiling anger rolling around his face.

Uncoiling he dropped your ex unceremoniously onto the floor. He moved towards you quickly the snarl still on his face and you half expected him to attack you as well. Instead, he helped you up, coiling around you gently as he checked for injuries. Another angry his escaped his lips as he found the bruises on your body, but seeing no further damage, he caressed your face as his own softened before you.

"Are you alright?" His words were strangled as he fought to control his emotions.

You nodded, even though you weren't entirely certain that you really were. Without your permission your eyes drifted over to your ex, still lying there, two large puncture wounds leaking blood.

"Wha..what did you do t-to him?" you stuttered in fear, eyes refusing to move anywhere but the still body that lay upon your floor, even as the coils of the culprit shifted gently around you. The scales of your paramour had never felt so cold before, and yet your body refused to move, in case it became the next victim to lay on the hardwood floor of your home.

"Less than he deserved," Teshai grumbled as he shifted to look back at the body as well. "My venom has a paralyzing agent, it will wear off soon but for now all he can do is lay there. He is not dead, yet."

A sigh left you and your body crumpled in on itself as relief flooded you that he was dead, before tensing again as the words hit you, "Yet?"

"He hurt you," Teshai hissed angrily, the back of his claws barely brushing against the bruises that were forming on your arms, "I will kill him. He will not harm anyone anymore by the time I'm through with him." The very end of his tail wagged in pleasure as if he were a dog expecting to be praised for completing a trick, rather than a large naga that hadn't just casually proclaimed to murder someone in front of you. In any other circumstances, it would have been cute, right now though, you just wanted the past ten minutes to have never happened.

You were stuck somewhere between abject terror and awe as you felt Teshai coiled around you. His scales felt foreign against your skin, and every coiled movement made your heart jump, afraid of what he would do next. You were acutely reminded of the fact that he was a predator to be wary of, regardless of how sweet and caring he usually was.

"What...I-no! You can't!" Finally able to tear your eyes away you shifted in his colours so that you were facing him fully. "I know he isn't the best person, but that's murder! It's wrong, and what if you're caught? What if-" What if I never see you again?

The sudden thought caught you off guard. Why were you so concerned about not seeing him again if he committed the crime? If he were to actually do so then you should be glad to see him gone. Even if it had been in your defence...

Teshai seemed taken aback by your argument, surprised that you would be defending the man who had come to your home and hurt you, rather than simply letting Teshai finish him off. 

"Why are you arguing on his behalf? He attacked you! He would've continued hurting you! He could've killed you," He coiled around you tighter as he leaned in, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your neck. "I could've lost you, he doesn't deserve to keep living after that!"

You felt his entire body shudder, limbs curling tighter around you as the image of you dead before him flashed through his mind. Your hands raised on their own accord to hug him back, fingers running through his dark hair over and over again in an attempt to calm him.

You could understand in a way. Had it been Teshai being attacked, potentially almost killed...you weren't certain what you would do in that situation. It was entirely possible you would be the one advocating for death as he held you back in a reversal of roles.

"I know," you told him, "But committing a crime for justice doesn't make it any less of a crime. In the morning, perhaps even sooner than that, perhaps longer, you'll come to regret your actions. So instead of murder, we'll just call the police and let them deal with it." You gently drew his head back so that you could look him in the eyes, caressing his face with your hands, "Okay?"

He sighed in defeat before nodding, "Okay." Teshai relented under your touch and your reasoning. While he still felt the hot anger coursing through him and the need to protect you, he knew you were right. He could feel it. Taking a deep breath, he leaned into your hands, seeking the comfort and reassurance that they provided.

He pulled you closer to him once more, his arms wrapping around your body, and resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I just don't want to lose you. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I love you too much to let that happen."

You both froze at his admission before he pulled suddenly, a furious blush covering his face. "Ah, I mean-well you see- I uhm-mmph!" His attempt at stringing words together were cut off as you pulled him down into a kiss. He froze for a second before responding back reverently, caressing your face gently. Pulling back for a breath your forehead rested against his. "I love you too, Teshai." You admitted with a blush.

Teshai was stunned into silence by your kiss. His blush deepened, spreading across his face and down his neck as his arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you up against his body so that he could feel your warmth and hold you close. His tail tightened around you as well, as if afraid you would disappear. He nuzzled his face against yours, his words almost a whine.

"Really? You do?"

"I do," you said with a smile.

Teshai felt like he could float away. His heart fluttered in his chest as he took in your words. You loved him. You actually loved him back. He hadn't just imagined this entire thing, he hadn't built it all up in his head. You truly and honestly shared his feelings.

He squeezed you even tighter, burying his face in your hair as he let out a breathless laugh. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear you say that," he mumbled against your neck.

You couldn't help a snort at his words, "Somehow I think I do." A giggle escaped you as he flicked his tongue against your neck to tickle it in retribution.

Teshai joined in your laughter, his arms staying wrapped tightly around your waist as his tongue continued to tease and tickle your neck. He loved how it made you laugh, the sound of it was like music to his ears. Every now and then he would drop a gentle kiss as well, a soft brush of his lips against your skin.

His tail still coiled around your body, holding you close to him. He didn't want to let you go, not now, not ever.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Okay, I wanna talk about Fun and Games and the Anne and Mary plot.

First thing: the whole setup with Anne and Mary is a very one-to-one reference to the play Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, as many have already pointed out, but unless you've seen the play you might miss just how clear the reference is - there are lots of direct, kinda subtle references, from Anne kissing Stede to Mary throwing an axe at Anne's clock, but the main plot of this episode is so heavily rooted in what happens in the play that it's very worth talking about. "Fun and Games" is the title of the first act of the play.

A brief synopsis of the play, if you've never seen it. It will sound very familiar. The setup is an older couple having a younger couple (who mirror them in many ways, down to occupation) over at their house. George and Martha, the older couple, have a relationship that at first seems normal but quickly becomes obviously dysfunctional. They're passive-aggressive with each other, have all these little games they play with each other with rules obvious only to them, and frequently get into heated arguments and try to embarrass each other in front of their guests. Nick and Honey, the younger couple, are revealed as the play goes on to have some issues between them that could very easily lead to their marriage going the same way as George and Martha's, just fun and games because they can't handle actually talking like adults and accepting each other as they are. When George and Martha are forced to stop playing little games with each other, the play concludes with an open ending, and we as the audience are left to wonder if George and Martha will be able to actually talk through their emotions and problems without the impuse to avoid them that they've been leaning on for years.

The name of the play is a reference to Virginia Woolf, who was an author very invested in earnest exploration of a character's inner thoughts and feelings - playwright Edward Albee says that the play's title can be read, really, as "who's afraid of living life without false illusions?" and when Martha says she's "afraid of Virginia Woolf," that's what she means. The characters in the play constantly play games and create little illusions to hide from their real feelings and what happened in reality because it's too scary for them to be honest with themselves and with each other.

Anne and Mary are a cautionary tale for Ed and Stede, but it's not a simple "if you quit piracy you're going to get bored with each other and regret it." The cautionary tale is "if you refuse to talk with each other, if you refuse to actually address the reality of the situations you're in together, if you allow yourselves to become so bitter with each other because you would rather pretend you can get by with fun and games instead of acting like adults in a relationship, that is when you'll end up like Anne and Mary." It's notable that Mary mocks Ed and Stede for acting like teenage boys and not having an "adult" relationship, because she and Anne approach their relationship very childishly, snipping with each other, trying to get a rise out of each other, and refusing to actually talk, and when Ed and Stede are having an open, earnest, heartfelt conversation, they laugh and mock them for it.

And I think a lot of analyses of this episode miss that Anne and Mary broke free from the fun and games cycle at the end of the episode. When Anne set their shop on fire, she's burning the illusions they've been living with, too - their version of George and Martha's game is trying to "kill" each other, so scared of that final mystery, which of them is going to keel over first, that they have to make it into a game. The episode is not saying that it was a mistake for Anne and Mary to quit piracy and settle down. It's saying that their problem is refusing to actually talk to each other and communicate like adults, and when Anne commits to Mary over their shop, this symbol of the life they've become so bitter about and all the games they play to talk around their feelings with each other, they share a hug and we get the sense that their relationship is on the mend.

This episode is extremely well-crafted. It references the play without becoming overly derivative, but the central themes remain strong. It's a cautionary tale for Ed and Stede, but it's not a basic one, and it comes back at the end of the season when Ed panics and runs away to live an illusion of a fisherman instead of communicating with his boyfriend. Ed and Stede are not becoming Anne and Mary when they settle down together - it's the opposite, they're committing to what they want and living a life without illusions.

[tiredfox64]

Waiter waiter!!

More giant Bi-han pls !!

(Headcanons,,, or smrhn,,, other characters are cool too !!)

Big...That's It

Yip notes: kitchen burning all around me with my lighter in my hand and the food on fire ...Okay...headcanons are good...custom job...g/t stuff again okay okay

Pairings: Bi-Han x Gn reader, Raiden x Gn reader

Warnings: My headcanons gasp opinions oh gosh

Bi-Han

I said it once and I'll say it again. It's giving Marc Antony and Pussyfoot. Just this big, aggressive guy who has to deal with this little menace that causes so much trouble but he loves them.

That man HATES to have you out of his sight. You need to be in front of him or in his peripheral vision.

If you can't stay in front of Bi-Han you're getting the towel or the leash. He will slam you down into a hand towel and wrap you up like a newborn Russian baby. That small leash that's made for bearded dragons that he bought one day? That's going on you too.

All silliness aside, Bi-Han actually likes you this way. A tiny thing that fits in the palm of his hand.

He likes that you're pathetic and you're forced to depend on him for certain things like getting you food or fighting off ants that try to fight you.

He purposely gives you big slices of food because you look cute shoving food in your cheeks. You look so silly eating baby corn, don't worry it's in a good way. He does scold you if you fill your mouth up too much and taps your back lightly to make you spit it out. Okay...maybe not so light.

You are his stress toy. You will be in a death grip while Bi-Han's thumb rubs against your head. You're an analog stick.

He doesn't trust you to sit on his head. You're gonna pull his hair and he knows it. You can stay on his shoulder.

Bi-Han likes to keep you in his room. You have your own little setup (probably in a huge cage with cloths over it) like your own room. He won't provide you furniture so you'll have to ask someone else cough cough Tomas cough choke to get you doll furniture.

He'd probably keep your room on a bedside table. Anything near his bed will do. He does that so he can have his hand near you. Don't worry he doesn't twitch or attack in his sleep so you won't wake up accidentally because he slapped the table.

This stays between you and me BUT he keeps his hand near you to make sure you're safe. If you're in trouble or struggle to fall asleep, you can tap on his hand and he'll be there to help. He'll bitch about it, sorry. But Bi-Han sure can provide you the best back massage with his two fingers so you can sleep peacefully.

Heaven help the poor son of a bitch who accidentally (or purposely) kicks you. You'll be down, a bit sore maybe, and then Bi-Han will come around and--oh look at that it's snowing blood.

Raiden

Ah yes, such a gentleman who unfortunately shocks you a lot.

Raiden needs to be careful with you after he uses his amulet. If you were at a normal human size you wouldn't be shocked by him once he was done with the amulet. But because you're a little bitty you get quite the shock when he touches you.

Oooo, is someone cooking pollo asado? Oh wait, that's just you.

He is totally fine with keeping you on his head and under his hat. It's safe and comfortable. You stay cool while the light seeps in. You could pass out up there while using his head of hair as your bed.

I genuinely believe this man would have doll hairbrushes for you. It's either Barbie hairbrushes or Ever After High hairbrushes. They were definitely borrowed from Johnny.

I feel like Raiden can cook simple meals and he will cook you miniature versions of those meals. Have a mini omelet.

Gently hold the reader in your hands, Raiden, gently hold them. This man has his hands cupped to hold you.

He's not possessive, he is just scared to have others hold you. Especially Kung Lao and Johnny because of how rough they can be.

You know those bunny owners who have a room dedicated to their bunny? Yeah, that's him but with you. You got a whole penthouse on one side of his room. Boujee ass dollhouse accessories and some great rat hammocks.

He likes to have you near when he meditates. He believes it can suppress your devious rat tendencies. If not, then at least Raiden can keep an ear open for you.

No touching the amulet! He reminds you every week. It's either curiosity or pure stupidity that drives you to go near it with your tiny hands.

Some nights...most nights, he lets you sleep on a pillow next to him. He knows not to roll onto you even in his sleep. Raiden likes to have his little lover close to him. You'll get a big goodnight kiss. Dawh :3

Yap notes: Yes, yes, I know I should be celebrating with family but this Christmas Eve hasn't been spectacular. So I spent some of my alone time doing this. Plus, that g/t curse was getting me again. A week of throat problems, a week of nose problems, a week of car and water problems, random bursts of anxiety and blood pressure spiking. Damn Fishii I said I would get to it! I might have a late Christmas gift for you (but with your luck my family might call me names again and I'll end up working on the whole thing tomorrow). To anyone else who might want to ignore family for a bit by reading, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Now if this damn post just works that would be great.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Order➬ 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒆 𝒘 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑾𝒆𝒃𝒃

“𝑰’𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒕𝒕, 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒆𝒙𝒑1𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓3𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 😇

°❤︎︎

.❤︎︎

It was something like a setup how you got yourself into your current situation. Not that you’re complaining.

Crazy how all it took was one little offhand comment…

“Not everything is for everyone, though. I know I am not physically capable of squirting, nothing personal.”

Thomas however, took that very personally so enter him making it his mission to prove you wrong by getting you to squirt off just his fingers…and it was blissful hell. Edging you for almost two godforsaken hours.

The way he suddenly takes his fingers out draws a sharp breath from you. “What – oh,” you gasp as Thomas’s fingers slide between your wet, swollen folds, quickly finding their way back to your hole. Thomas doesn’t push in right away, though, and instead takes his time teasing you more until your hips are arching up off the bed, fingers scrabbling at his wrists and your begging in a hoarse, hot whisper, the heady smell of sex and arousal rising like a fog between them.

Thomas pushes in two, then three fingers. Your thighs quiver as your hips roll to try and get those fingers a little deeper; Thomas smirks as he curls the digits inside, massaging behind the pubic bone again in that magical little spot that has you practically collapsing boneless against his shoulder. He massages your engorged clit with the heel of his hand and his whole palm is soon dripping with fluids, your hips humping wildly.

“That’s it. Let it go pretty baby, let me have it…gonna feel so good..”

Your practically screaming as heat envelopes your entire body, part of you is confused because what the hell is happening to you and you choke on a moan when his thick fingers begin thrusting more; assaulting your swollen, slick walls thoroughly. Gasping, you let out a weak, dazed moan as you shift to try and drive Thomas’s fingers even deeper.

Your breath picks up as your body stills, everything cresting at once and there’s pressure before your walls convulse with your clit and dear god, you’re cumming so hard you go numb.

The first splatters of liquid take you by surprise, Thomas's eyes widen when he realizes that you’re gushing, fluid seeping out all around the fingers stuffed inside of you. Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, making your body shake and pussy clench, all but forcing his digits out. When Thomas pulls away, a stream of liquid drips out of your shining cunt, and it makes his mouth water. He’s quick to swipe in a taste, making your fucked out self sigh drowsily. 

“Told you you could.”

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

Sharing tables - Ewan Mitchell

Masterlists

Pairing: Ewan Mitchell x reader

Wordcount: 1544

Warnings: none

Summary: After a tiring day you step into a full-packed cafe that has you sharing your usual table with a stranger. Somehow it turns into a meet cute and a bit of a setup.

When you stepped inside the cafe, exhausted and so ready for a hot drink to warm you up from the chilly weather outside, you found that it was packed to the brim with people. And of course, it added to the cosy atmosphere and the Christmas feelings that were starting to creep up on you, but you were also way too tired to deal with it all. Standing in the doorway, weighing your options, either go find another cafe that would be, one: further away from your flat, and two: not your favourite cafe, or deal with all these people. 

When an elderly couple left and forced you to step out of the door, you decided it was not worth going out into the cold again to find another cafe. So, putting on a brave face and a smile that did not really reach your eyes, you pushed through the swarm of occupied chairs and surrounded tables to reach the line. One of your friends, Sara, was working behind the cashier register and she met you with a wide smile when you stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello Y/n,” she greeted and clicked a few times on the screen in front of her, putting in your usual order. With a small laugh you held out your card to pay. She didn’t even have to tell you your total. 

“Busy day, huh,” you mumbled and she sighed heavily and pulled a distressed face. 

“Tell me about it!” she halfheartedly complained as she turned around to make your drink. “It’s been this busy all day, I don’t get it! It’s like we’ve been put on “discover London” or something!” 

You shrugged, laughing a bit at her theatrics. “Maybe you have.” 

Sara heaved another sigh but pushed your drink across the counter with a smile, “well, wouldn’t that be a nightmare.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I’d have to work my knickers off!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her. She loved her job, and her aunt was the owner of the little cosy cafe that had become your favourite, adding on to her passion and her devotion to make sure the business went well. She’d always loved baking and making drinks. In the early years of university, she’d tried to drag you along to a cake-piping class, which you’d straight out refused because it was during your lunch hour. She’d gone herself and later on taught you everything she’d learned when the two of you were making a birthday cake for her then-girlfriend. Of course you appreciated it but you also doubted you’d ever use the knowledge again. 

Thanking her for your drink, you turned around and found your usual table occupied by a man, not much older than yourself, with a blond mop of hair on his head and an open computer on the table in front of him. It wasn’t like any other table was free, so if you were gonna have to sit beside a stranger, you might as well sit beside a stranger at your table. 

The guy doesn’t even as much as glance up from his computer until you’re standing right beside him. Then his sky-blue eyes shift from the screen to you and you find yourself at loss of breath for a second. The man’s extremely easy on the eyes and by his small smirk, he knows it. 

“Can I sit here?” you stutter out after a second of silence and he nods, immediately pulling his stuff a bit more towards him on the table, clearing the space for you. 

“Of course,” he nods, putting away some stuff into his bag resting on the ground beside him. The table is your favourite because it’s by the windows so a lot of natural light gets in and you also have a clear view of the whole cafe. Usually you’d sit here and Sara would come out and chat with you for a bit on her breaks or when there weren’t a lot of customers. But now you kind of curse yourself for choosing to sit here. 

The light from the sunset is shining in through the window and it’s putting the man in front of you in an incredibly flattering light, though you doubt he’d look bad in any lightning. He’s got sharp features, a dark outgrowth in his otherwise light blond hair, lean built and he’s sitting in casual clothing that looks way better on him than it ever would on literally anyone else. 

Sara’s suggestive smirk and encouraging eyes that you have a very clear view off are also part of why you regret sitting down here. She won’t leave you alone until you’ve asked the guy out, no matter the outcome. You see her pick up her phone when the flow of customers calms down and soon your own vibrates with a new message. 

‘Shooting your shot?’ 

You look up at her and she’s grinning behind the counter. With a slight shake of your head you silently tell her ‘no’ across the room and bring your attention to your drink instead, mentally thanking the new customers that just walked in for stealing her attention. 

“Everything alright?” A smooth voice asks from beside you and you look up to find the man you’re sharing a table with wearing a teasing smile. A bit surprised and taken off guard, you nod, not wanting to have to explain that your friend behind the counter thinks you should hit him up. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just- my friend,” you hastily explain, not really sure why you’re offering an explanation to a complete stranger but he hums and returns to his computer. While he doesn’t seem to buy it completely, he doesn’t push on it and for that you’re glad. 

But now he’s captured your attention for real. He’s working on something on the computer and every now and then you look up from your phone or your drink to find him already watching you. With heated cheeks you look away again but he just smiles and continues watching you for a few seconds before returning to work himself. 

Without any shame, he takes moments to admire you and you can’t really help but do the same, except you feel as if you’re maybe not quite as open with it. At least you try not to. But by the way his smirk widens just a little every time he looks up from his screen and meets your eyes, you don’t believe you’re managing being subtle very well. 

Another message on your phone has you looking down at it again and you find Sara has sent another message. 

‘Come on, you two look like you want to eat each other up’

The message has you blushing furiously and you snap up to meet Sara’s gaze and she’s snickering behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron with a wide grin. The guys in front of you follow your gaze. 

“Do you know her?” he asks, gently tilting down her computer screen to give you his full attention. The action has you squirming in your seat and another blush settles over your cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, “she’s a friend.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” he questions. “You must be Y/n.” It’s your turn to look shocked and you turn to Sara with a glare. 

“I am,” you confirm with a hesitant nod. “Should I…know you?” 

He laughs, a warm, gentle sound that has your heart doing cartwheels in your chest. It’s so inviting and billowing through the air and you just need to hear it again. 

“I’m Ewan,” he introduces himself and reaches across the table to hold out his hand for you to shake. “I’m her cousin.” You nod at that, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaim, recognizing his name. Sara always talked highly of her family and she’s always given you a few off-hand comments about how “you and my cousin would look so good together.” So, you conclude, this was a bit of a setup. 

“She’s talked about you!” you nod, putting down your phone after sending a quick ‘you fucker’ to Sara. She just laughs at you from across the room. 

“Really?” he wonders, one eyebrow raised and a smile on his lips. 

You nod, “only good stuff, I promise.” He laughs at that.

“Well, I hope so!” his smile widens. “She’s told me about you too,” he tells you as you lower your cup from your mouth. 

“Good stuff?” you question, a wide smile on your lips. Maybe Sara was right, maybe you two would be good together. He’s very easy to talk to, something you’d complained about since you two became friends. Everyone was as interested in holding good conversations as walls. 

“Oh, absolutely!” he assures. “But, I’d like to hear more about you, if you’d like to tell me?” While he looks quite confident, you don’t miss the harsh swallow and his pleading eyes. You nod, laughing softly. 

“Is this you shooting your shot?” you question with a teasing smile. He shrugs. 

“Guess it is.” 

“Well,” you reach across the table, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’d love to hear more about you too.”