#let scar have his win - not just of the game but also against the powers that be

[firequeenofficial]

Grabbing this with both hands and running with it. (Wild Life spoilers to follow)

Scar never left Secret Life. All the other winners died at the end of their series: Grian jumped, Scott got Watchered, Pearl got exploded, Martyn ran out of time, Cleo got creepered. All died and were taken out. But not Scar.

No, Scar was left behind. Why might that be? What possible reasons might the Watchers havre of punishing Scar like this? What would cause them to keep the man Grian would choose over all others trapped like this? Are they really punishing Scar? Or is it perhaps someone else that they're mad at? Someone who's felt less and less Watcher-y as the seasons went on. Someone who's been more human each season. Someone who had far less involvement in Secret Life's mechanics than in the other seasons.

Maybe Grian tried to leave the Watchers. Maybe he tried to defy them. Maybe he was slowly, subtly, shedding the Watcher part of himself like an old skin, hoping they wouldn't notice. But they did.

They noticed, all right. But they couldn't punish Grian directly. No, that wasn't nearly cruel enough. They had to target the ones he loves, instead.

So on top of putting the Secret Keeper in Secret Life to keep an eye on Grian and the others, they also turned the whole server against Scar. They gave him tasks that make him the villain, that ruin his relationships and leave him alone and scared. And they make sure he wins and that he stays alone and scared. No way out, no way for anyone else to get in. No visitors but the occasional Watcher who comes to snack on his despair and make sure he's still there.

And they make sure Grian knows. They make sure he knows what's happening, and that it's his fault. If he'd just complied, if he'd just stuck to the plan, if he'd just embraced this intrinsic part of him, this never would have happened. Scar would be free. And then they tell him the next part: they would keep trapping the people Grian loves until he has no one left, or until he rejoins them fully.

It's no choice at all, really. Because Grian is far too human, and far too attached to his friends. He can't risk anything more happening to them. He can't lose any more of them.

After a brief negotiation, Grian concedes.

He spends a year designing the next game, determined to get it right, to prove to the Watchers that he's one of them, that he's not holding back. It's intricate, and fragile, and detailed, and awful, but he can't stop. He can't let the Watchers think he's trying to protect his friends from them, or from himself.

When they get antsy, he releases a small game, one that doesn't take any effort, one that doesn't last long. He's the first to die.

Finally, the game is ready. The Watchers are eager and curious: He's been working on it for a full year, and dropping hints for months now. The game starts, and Grian's friends can tell he's different. Mumbo hears something *other* in his giggles. Jimmy notices a gleam of purple in his eyes. Scar can't help but feel he's being especially distant and hostile towards him. None of them comment on it.

The first wildcard hits, and Etho is taken aback by how blatantly Grian mentions that he knows what it is, by how desperate Grian seems to be for Etho to figure out what it is and how it works. He's different, Etho thinks, and spots the barely visible eyes surrounding Grian. He says nothing.

People start dying, and it's all Grian can do to contain his gleeful giggles, the fear and confusion fueling him. By the time session 3 rolls around, his friends have given him so much power simply by panicking that the snails are almost no effort at all.

And this is when the deal he struck with the Watchers after Secret Life comes into action. He'd had only one condition - or at least, only one he could get them to agree to: the people he loves most couldn't win. They couldn't even come close. Pearl had been dropping steadily, but session 3 was what made all the difference. Jimmy, Scar and Mumbo started losing lives so fast that Grian worried the Watchers were taking them out right then and there (Jimmy was never a worry in terms of winning: the Watchers were furious at him for breaking free from the Canary Curse in Secret Life, and would never let it happen again). Pearl died plenty more too, ensuring her protection. When Mumbo asked for a life, he refused. That would only raise the danger.

The one people Grian was worried about were Gem and Joel. He'd known, from the moment they teamed, that it would be an issue. Alone, both were formidable opponents and more-than-competent survivors. Together, they'd be unstoppable. He had a sneaking suspicion Joel would start taking himself out soon, but Gem... she simply wouldn't die. When the snails didn't get either of them, Grian set the reds and yellows on them. Using underhanded methods Grian refused to admit he was proud of, Jimmy managed to take Joel out, but not one of them managed to get Gem.

He needed her to die. He needed her to stay away from the Watchers' grip, to stay safe. He needed her gone. He didn't care what he had to do, what he had to sacrifice. Fully under the Watchers' influence, he didn't care what happened to him; they were his games, these were his pawns. Nothing could touch him, and when they did, he saw it coming. All he could think about was getting Gem and Joel out of his series. But no matter what he or anyone else tried, Gem was still alive.

He had to be sneaky about this. He had to put her at the ultimate disadvantage.

So he gathered Mumbo and Skizz together in the open and, under the guise of trying to get them an extra life, he explained a plan to him. He didn't know if it would work, and he didn't particularly care. That wasn't his real plan, anyway. His real plan involved the others all around him. The reds and yellows that weren't his teammates, that were just as hungry for death as he was. Without saying a word to them, he got almost the entire server interested.

They all went to Gem and Joel's base. Surely, with so many, she couldn't possibly get away.

And yet, again and again, the attempts on Gem's life failed. Mumbo died. Skizz lost a valuable weapon. And still, Gem wouldn't die.

Until she did.

It was Martyn, Martyn of all people, who managed it. Technically, the kill went to Ren, but it was Martyn who masterminded it, who set it up.

And yet, it was Gem who decided she would die now. Gem died, not because the others were good enough, but because they weren't, and she felt bad for them. She was on the track to winning, Grian's deal notwithstanding, and she felt bad about it.

And Grian hated it. Because it wasn't supposed to go like this. She was supposed to be safe! She was supposed to be left alone! And yet, the Watchers were protecting her, carrying her to victory in the complete opposite way they carried Scar.

And there was nothing he could do. He couldn't risk defying the Watchers again, and he couldn't risk warning her or Joel or anyone else. The only person who had an inkling of what was happening was Martyn, who knew almost as much about the Watchers as Grian himself did. But the Watchers hated Martyn: Grian couldn't be seen being friendly with him!

Grian returned to his base with Mumbo and Skizz, hating the way the day had gone, even though every single person had died at least once by now. The only purely good thing that had happened was Jimmy and Scar giving him an excuse to take them out of the game as soon as possible, and he was itching to take that excuse. If he couldn't protect Gem and Joel, he would do what it took and sacrifice what he needed to protect Jimmy and Scar. Pearl would sort herself out, he was sure of that.

His friends would be safe. He didn't know what he'd do otherwise.

Did grian feel more watcher-like this season to anyone else? Sure he controls what the wildcards are and all that... but did you notice him being more overconfident.

Both his deaths this session was due to him being careless... like he wouldn't be killed. Like he feels invulnerable. (Who else is popularly portrayed as arrogant? The watchers!)

And the canary's curse. He told jimmy he would make sure it comes true. ( Who made the canary's curse? The watchers!)

I feel like the watchers have regained some influence on him. Something gave the watchers more influence on him this season... maybe something in the last life series. Who won the last life series? Scar...

[chemdisaster]

i've seen people leaning heavily into the watcher lore say that scar's win was all orchestrated and endorsed by the watchers, that he's their favourite and they wanted him to win and now he can be theirs - but isn't it cooler, doesn't it make more sense if he won in spite of the watchers? they've been trying to fuck up all his plans the whole season, they've done their best to make everyone hate him, and he still came out with alliances at the end. they tried to make him a villain, and he succumbed and embraced it, but still showed goodness in the end when he refused to let pearl sacrifice herself - and that's why he won. not because he did what the watchers wanted him to, but because he went against the big plan and won all on his own merit. he didn't win because the watchers like him, he won because of his own quirks and strengths that he used to his favour. he won because he's scar and he doesn't follow the rules and is simply good enough at the game to win.

i don't know, i just. the idea of everything being under the watchers' control and there being no real free will in the series is an interesting one, but a) as many have mentioned, this is the season of defying curses and character development, and b) scar is not just a toy for the watchers to play with. he's a person and the reason why he won is not because grian or anyone else wanted him to, it's because he's bloody good.

[emerald-cobracat]

Has anyone considered how none of the winners in the life series actually get to survive past the games.

Grian killed himself immediately after killing Scar. Scott is killed by a command after winning. Pearl dies at most a second after Scott kills himself. Martin is the only one who survives after winning and even he runs out of time.

The games aren’t meant to be survived, even the winners fall victim to the death that plagues the server.

None of the victors go against this. Except Scott and Martin.

Scott is killed almost immediately afterwords. He’s killed by Grian (I think). Grian is a watcher. Wether he left or betrayed them doesn’t matter. He still has the power and knows the power of the watchers. He knew that Scott wouldn’t die after his victory. He knew Scott would move forward and try to save them.

The watchers don’t like Scott.

This would cause them to hate him. To despise him. To make is so that the games would never be kind to him again. But then Grian kills Scott. He uses the power he once abandoned to save Scott from the watchers wrath.

So maybe the watchers don’t like Scott but they approve of him. He got one of their own to use his power again. They would favor him but they’d let him be. It’s why Scott and Pearl survived as long as they did even if they didn’t team up. The watchers left them alone because Scott was part of the pair. In limited life Scott was doing the best he could and very little went wrong for him. He managed a crazy bucket clutch with the entire server trying to kill him. The only thing that went wrong is him being boogeyman first and even then it just meant he had more time.

It’s also why Scott couldn’t win double life. That would get rid of any good will the watchers have for him.

The watchers want Grian back in their ranks. And so far Scott is the only one that got Grian to use his power.

However Martin doesn’t play the game as he’s supposed to. He betrays everyone and in the end doesn’t play fair. He wins but in the cruelest and most desperate way he could.

Martin also dares to live after he’s won. He dares to not abide by the rules and die. Yes he does die eventually but he had an hour left on his timer. An hour, no winner has lasted that long. What if Martin is doing so badly right now because in that hour he did something. He challenged the watchers or maybe used that time to find something on the server in an attempt to free himself and his friends.

What if he did something so that the watchers couldn’t kill him. They’d have to wait until his time ran out.

They’d hate that.

It could explain why he’s doing so badly now too. Yes Martin might share the canary curse because of him attacking Jimmy but what if it’s more than that. What if the watchers are getting directly involved with everyone because of Martin. What if Martin found something in that hour in limited life? What if he’s so close yet so far to ending the games?

The watchers would hate that. They’d try to stop him.

And what better way then to further control everyone then by putting them against each other with a secret.

I also like the idea that Scott is using his good will with the watchers to learn more about them and try to stop them. During limited life the watchers began to notice so Martin who may or may not have known what’s happening gets involved.

[runabout-river]

Do you believe that JJk part 2 would be made? The author seems to make it clear with the pacing, that the story is concluding in this series.

What other plot points could be addressed thoughtfully and with adequate pacing, if the trio's comeback, antagonist death, and main heros power escalation in the final arc, did not get the pacing it deserved?

It'll mostly likely wrap up in the next two chapters, with the last one serving as an Epilogue.

Thanks for this question! I'm going to cheat a little by copy/pasting a previous post of mine about everything that's still open ended in JJK, most likely will not get a proper conclusion in the last 3 chapters, and could serve as the groundwork for a potential JJK 2.

First, though, your questions seems a little misaligned. JJK is going to end in three chapters and there is no pacing issue there. Maybe it's a bad word choice or you've seen others talk about it like that, but chapter 271 is going to be a rounded end for the story that, in my opinion (08.09.2024), will lead into a JJK Part 2 because of these:

The Culling Games have not Ended

They still go on because players like Yuji and Hakari are still alive

We didn't even come close to the Merger

We have so much setup including pregnant Sukuna who left baby Tengen (probably) with Megumi now.

When as a writer you introduce world ending stakes, you better deliver on them even if only for the good guys to win against them.

Those stakes were never even reached though

The foreign invasion of Japan was introduced but then forgotten about

There are now militaries in Japan who abduct sorcerers for resources, giving Gege vast storytelling potential for the future

But Gojo could've dealt with them off screen and Yuta might continue to protect Japan in his stead now. This plot thread can be dealt with in the last 3 chapters but you would still ask: Why was it here at all?

Remy survived

Remy was the girl who tricked Megumi and who Megumi wanted to kill afterwards. Tsumiki's soul intervened on Remy's behalf and saved her, just for Remy to be abducted later. She's one of those characters Gege could've killed but instead we have a scenario where Megumi is poised to save her now while also getting into contact with Tsumiki's soul that hasn't happened yet

Tengen, the Star Plasma Vessel and the Six Eyes are connected by Fate

Multiple SPVs can exist simultaniously but not the 6E. After Gojo's death this minor detail mentioned by Tengen became obsolete for the story.

But then Yuta took over Gojo's body and now the 6E are back for this particular fate to happen again especially with Tengen's life in the strange state it is

Gege had come up with the story of the 3 Kugisaki women at the beginning of the manga

But instead of discarding it at the end of it, becasue it had no relevance or plot attention at all, Gege decided to open that thread and let it hang there, promising things to come like the bastard that he is with regards to the Kugisaki family.

Megumi's incomplete Domain

This is basic story telling especially in battle shonen: when you show the audience an incomplete ability, then by the end that ability has to be mastered barring a tragic end to the character.

Gege could throw us a curve ball about his domain with the last chapters but with Sukuna defeated now all tension of him accomplishing it is out.

But if this is Megumi's midpoint of his character arc and development, then everything regarding him, his domain and even his relationship with Sukuna can come to a proper end in JJK2

Sukuna's and Megumi's relationship and interactions were lacking in the end

But with Gege deliberately leaving behind 1 Finger, the option of Sukuna coming back as a curse, the remains of his first body most likely being permanent parts of Megumi, and not to forget the psycological and physical scars that Megumi has from him now, the potential for deep future interactions is there.

Sukuna's story has only been told to us from the perspectives of others

Sure, that does not have to change. Gege can leave it like that and he could or could not give us a Sukuna flashback in the last 3 chapters.

But he can go further than that and delve into that villain from more angles outside of mainly the narrator's and Yuji's.

He could eg go into the difference between Sukuna's relatiosnhip with Yuji and his relationship with Megumi to dive deeper into his personality

Kenjaku/Kaori, Jin and Yuji - none of that is resolved in any way

Just like how Kenjaku's true motives for creating the perfect vessel, who was in the end the perfect cage for Sukuna, was never explained.

So, yeah, I think JJK 2 is a real possibility with everything that hasn't been done and talked about, which was why I titled my original post with all of these points: "Gege kills off unneeded characters, why didn't he kill this?".

And I can see multiple reasons for why he would go the hard cut with the middle point of the series.

It's easier to structure narratively

he can make genre, theme and protagonist changes

he can get a break that can be longer than just a few weeks

it creates hype for the ending

keeping the story going makes him and his characters a cultural icon and him and SJ rich

also we would have a JJK 0, JJK 1 and now JJK 2, which would be funny

[nagdabbit]

oh, the bliss is gonna make you see

words: 1.2k

jon moxleywheeler "Sadder Patty Hearst" yuta

tags/warnings: bad bdsm etiquette, mildly dubious consent, submission as manipulation, yuta is in denial, transactional violence

(this was written in a haze of food poisoning delirium)

also on ao3

.

Mox is already there when the hotel room door clicks shut at his back. The man is already naked, already waiting, already watching Yuta with a smug sort of smile as he grinds a piece of gum between his teeth. It's the usual scene these days.

He's no longer surprised that he was allowed to walk the halls alone again, allowed to enter the room of his own volition, without having to be frogmarched along by one of his looming shadows. It's the one time they fall away from him, the one time they give him space, and he knows what it's for: the illusion of choice. They allow him this chance to run simply because they know he won't. He hadn't run the first few times he'd been summoned to Mox’s room, after all. Mox wanted it that way these days. 

He doesn't bother saying anything as he carefully steps further into the room, no use in negotiating anymore, no use in protesting or backing out or leaving. He's in too deep now. It starts and ends when Mox wants, that's the way this goes. He's the one with the power, he's the king, now. The scene starts when Yuta enters the room, and it stops when Mox says. 

As he steps closer, his eyes are drawn to the bed. There are all manner of toys laid out across the mattress, standing out stark and vulgar against the clean, white sheets. More implements of torture than pleasure, all of them there because that's what Mox wanted. They weren't for Yuta, not really. Had he the choice, they wouldn't be there at all.

A month ago, maybe two, Yuta would have been salivating at the sight. He'd have been eager as a puppy, pawing at Jon to let him play. Those days were no more, they died suffocating.

Mox is still smacking his gum, cheeks dimpled around that little grin of his. Yuta used to think him handsome, tracing the lines of a hard life lived. He used to know the scars across his skin, used to know each and every story they told. He used to work so hard for that smug grin, used to work for the chance to trace ancient constellations across the skin of his back, used to love being caught up in Mox's plans and games. 

He doesn't like this game anymore.

He slaps Mox across the cheek before he can think better of it. But the man's shoulders give a little shake, as if he's suppressing a laugh. As he turns back, teeth bared as he gives a smarmy little grin, Yuta slaps him again.

This one is hard enough to knock the gum from between Mox’s teeth, letting it fall to the floor. He doesn't pause to clean it up, nor does he tell Mox to. It'll get ground into the carpet fibers, a forgotten bystander in the ensuing tussle, and he doesn't even pause to think of cost he'll be charged for it. 

When Mox looks at him again, his eyes are dancing, but he at least pretends to be contrite. It starts and ends when Mox wants, and this is what he wants from him. Violence, sweat and blood. Right here, now, Mox will let him win. He'll allow Yuta a few moments of having the upper hand, give him the illusion of control. But it starts and it stops when Mox says, and Yuta will follow along as he always does.

In a few moments he will launch himself at Mox, wrestling him down until he can lock the man up in loops of rope and leather. He'll think about the next stop, the next show, the next hotel room, just as he always does. He'll imagine himself walking past the door, rather than digging out the keyboard Marina will press into his palm. He'll bind the man's arms tight enough to hurt, because that's what Mox wants from him. He'll kick Mox’s legs out from under him, shove him to the floor—not the bed, never again, not after everything he's done—and viciously attack each and every vulnerable spot bared to him. 

He’ll leave teeth marks in the soft skin of his throat, a warning that won't be heeded, and he'll walk away next time. He'll bruise his own hand layering violent and dark bruises upon each tender but of skin he can find. He'll make it hurt to walk or sit or even breathe, and make Mox carry a reminder of all the anger and rage and shame and guilt and fear he's forced Yuta to carry. That will be his final taste of Yuta, because he'll walk away next time. He'll unleash a red hot anger that Mox wants from Yuta, a fire he's been building since the start. And then he'll walk away.

He'll shove Mox down and fuck him there on the floor, thrusts hard and violent enough to scrape a carpet burn across his dimpled cheek. 

He'll leave Mox there, knowing that Claudio will come for him within a few moments, listening through the adjoining door as he always does. He'll leave Mox in a heap, cock heavy and hands turning red and cold, knowing there's no point, that there's no danger or consequence or lesson for the older man to learn.

There will be a vile, acidic burn at the back of his throat as he leaves, as there's been each time before. Another shame, different than that he'd choked down while Bryan struggled beneath his hands, will eat at him through the coming days, until it falls silent beneath the swell of his rage. A shame that says he's just like them. A shame that lies to him, tells him there was always a choice. There was always another way, another path, and he chose to stay.

He could've gone down gasping for breath at Bryan's side, ended his career just as it was getting started. It could've been his hand between a hammer and a hard place, his neck on the line.

There was never a choice. 

So he'll batter Mox to pieces, just the way he wants. He'll do what is needed of him, because that is what he chose to do. He'll choose to live, and fall into line, as he always does.

In front of him, Mox is still waiting for him to move. 

The lie acting itself out across his face is barely maintained repentance. He'll play the part of the whipping boy now, because that's what he wants Yuta to believe. A punching bag to work out his frustrations on, so he'll blindly follow along at Mox’s heels, knowing he'll soon get a key card and some rope and a few quiet moments to exact his pound of flesh.

Next time, Yuta will walk away. The scene will never start, because he won't be there to let the door fall shut behind him, locking him willfully in. It starts when Mox says, but next time Yuta won't even be there to be stopped. Next time, he'll choose. 

But now, watching the lie fade back into that smug little grin, Yuta pulls his arm back a third time. This is what Mox wants, but Yuta can't deny that a part of him—slavering away in the pit of his gut like a rabid dog—wants it, too. 

His palm lands with a crack, and Mox pretends to yield as Yuta launches himself into the fray.

[astralisbelle]

Dead Man's Hand 8 - First One Down

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: The first night of the tournament looms over. Let the games begin.

This bed is far too big for one person, especially one used to huddling in a fetal position to fit in a cramped space. She tosses and turns, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom, hugging the sheets against her body.

They fought over who should sleep in the one bed, the Mandalorian ultimately winning by saying he would sleep better with his helmet off, which he could not do if he shared the room with Grogu’s pram. That, and she knows that the only reason she is here is because of him. This room, the silky nightgown on her body, the extravagant clothes in the closet are all because a bounty hunter remembered an offhand comment about her supposedly cheating.

Stars, no wonder she cannot sleep. She sits up and wanders to the wide window, peeking out towards the still lively lights of the night. Beside her, Grogu sleeps soundly in his pram, softly breathing. I wonder if Mando managed to sleep too. He’s not the one playing, so maybe.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she listens to Grogu in the silence of the room. This makes no sense: she could sleep on a rock bed if she had to while keeping an ear out for anything that could attack her in her sleep. Sleeping here should be easy. She has the comfiest, widest bed ever, a kriffing Mandalorian that can keep her safe right outside, and her belly is full of food.

So why can’t she?

Maybe it’s the lack of all those things that makes it hard, the noises, the people… Maybe the bed really is too big for one person. She bites her lip, looking towards the door. No, the Mandalorian would never. Just as she is about to crawl back into bed, she lifts her head to see the outline of Grogu sitting up in his pram. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Did I wake you?” He makes a soft noise, arms stretching out. She lifts him up, holding the child against her. “I can’t sleep…”

With a long sigh, she lies down, setting him on the pillow next to her. “Can your mind powers put people to sleep?” No response. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ll just try again.”

Grogu settles in, lying down and snuggling under the sheets. He inches towards her, a tiny hand touching her forehead. The claws on the end of his fingers tickle her skin, but his pets feel nice. She closes her eyes, giving him her pinkie finger to hold onto. Knowing he is there lulls her to sleep easier than any lullaby.

In the late morning, Din pats his face with a towel in the bathroom. He squeezes his wet hair, eyes glancing to the various scars and bruises that pepper his skin. And yet, he knows he’d rather be fighting for the beskar rather than all of this.

He dresses quickly, stepping out into the suite, no sign of the other two having emerged from the room. Din goes to the door, calling her name and Grogu’s before pressing the button to open it. “It’s morning. Get up.” He stands in the door frame, eyes darting to the bed. Grogu’s out of his pram, sleeping beside her and clutching her hand. Din leans against the frame, chuckling and shaking his head.

“You must really like her, kid.”

---

The casino feels louder and more congested than the last time they walked through it. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she picks up the skirts of her dress with one hand and cling to the Mandalorian’s arm with the other. Her feet wobble with each step, ankles threatening to break with one wrong move. Whenever it became too much, she looks at Grogu in his pram, following close behind with an innocent, open smile.

They make it across the casino to the room where the sabacc tournament is to be held. She gives her name, half expecting to be rejected right then and there for no reason in particular. “Please stand by for scan, miss.” A droid crawls in front of her, its optics emitting a fan of red, going up and down her body. The guard checks her wrists and ears, no doubt looking for cheaters. “Clear.”

The tournament room is quiet and intimate, camera droids floating around the painted ceiling. Along the entire back wall is a fully stocked bar that a few people are already taking advantage of. Then she sees the table and freezes. It’s, of course, gorgeous. It’s made of velvet, has the casino’s logo in the center. A waitress sets piles of chips at each chair and wipes them down for any last specks. The sight hits her all at once. “Mando,” she whispers harshly. “I can’t do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

She yanks him away towards the walls, out of the center of the room. “I’ve never played with people like these! Th-They’re rich and have been doing this for years. Oh kriff, I bet just a handful of those chips is more than I ever made in my life.” Blood rushes to her head all at once and her stomach flips.

“You’ll be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you never--”

The Mandalorian seizes her by the biceps. “Listen to me,” he says sternly. “You told me before: it has nothing to do with luck. You know the game and the rules haven’t changed from the ones in Tatooine. Think about this.” He looks over his shoulder. “None of these people have endured the things you have. They wouldn’t know the first thing about going without food, about sleeping on the ground, anything like that.” She looks at them, drinking, laughing, as if the money they used to buy into this were mere pennies. “They’ll never see you coming.”

She looks back at the Mandalorian, her heart racing not with anxiety, but with confidence. She stands up straight, giving him a firm nod. “I can do this.”

“You can do this.” He lets go of her. “They can’t do what you can.”

A smile creeps up on her lips and she pushes some hair behind her ear. “Okay. Thanks, Mando.” She takes one step back.

“...Din.”

“Huh?”

He speaks quietly, forcing her to lean in. “You… you can call me Din.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “You’re doing this big favor for me. I suppose you should know my name.”

“Oh.” Din… what a beautiful name. “Thanks. Don’t worry, I won’t be shouting it on the rooftops or anything.” She takes another step. “Wish me luck, Din.”

“You don’t need it, remember?”

She laughs. “Yeah, I do.” She leans over. “Maybe Grogu will give me good luck instead.” He babbles some nonsense, waving at her before she turns on her heel and goes towards the table. Show time.

There are seven players, including herself. Two women, a Twi’lek and a Togruta, sit together and speak fondly, as if they were old friends. Coming back from the bar is a Mon Calamari with two drinks in hand. Slithering past and stopping at the edge of the table is a Hutt, also carrying a drink. That just leaves the two other humans besides herself. An older gentleman with a humble face sits on the other side of the Twi’lek and makes small talk with the Mon Calamari. Then, taking the space between herself and the Hutt is a younger man. He is tall and walks as if he owns the casino, face shining as he smiles.

Din hangs back, assuming that the others not sitting at the table are bodyguards to the other rich players. Having been around the Outer Rim, he’s seen them all. One such hired muscle, a Weequay, slides next to him, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in much the same fashion. “A Mandalorian, as I live and breathe,” he says. “Heard you paid that girl to play for you. Where’d you find her?”

“Is that relevant?” He turns his cold visor towards the Weequay.

“Just curious,” he says with a shrug. “I’ve been going to these tournaments for years. I work for that one.” He points to the handsome, young human that sits next to her. It’s only now that Din notices he’s chatting her up, leaning forward and poking into her space. She puts on a polite smile, responding to him, but anyone could see that she was clearly not interested in his spiel.

It makes Din’s jaw clench.

“I’d tell your girl to be careful.” The Weequay pushes himself off the wall to walk away. “Lots of these folks don’t like losing.”

“...I’ll keep it in mind.” After he walks away, Din exchanges a look with Grogu, giving him a shrug. He surveys the room again, at all of the bodyguards relaxed and drinking. Well, except for a group of four, dressed and masked entirely in black, standing with their hands neatly behind them. Din wonders who pays for them.

The dealer steps up to the table, gathering everyone and quieting the room. He welcomes them on behalf of Dastiv Res, the casino’s owner, and briefly goes over the rules for buy-in and the like. “At the end of the tournament, the winner may keep their earnings in addition…” He gestures to a hostess that brings a silver chest to the table. Opening it up, the players’ eyes peer in with wonder. She had never seen beskar before, but each ingot is perfect… except for the insignias in the corners, bearing the symbol of the Empire. “To five ingots of pure beskar.”

She flashes a brief look to Din, who also cranes his neck to see it before the chest closes and the hostess leaves. Now, she gets it.

She has to win.

The dealer claps his hands together. “Let us begin.”

When the waitress takes drink orders, she refuses one for the time being, knowing that she has to keep sharp. Her eyes focus on each of the cards being dealt, slipped to everyone in a circle. Time to work.

Din hears Grogu struggling and glances down, seeing the child trying to look over the crowd. He pulls him out of the pram and rests him on his shoulders so he can see. “Guess this doesn’t make any sense to you, does it? I’ll try to explain it… where to start… well, there are cards.” He stops himself at the stupidity of that statement. “Okay, there are seventy-six cards in that deck. Everyone gets two cards in the beginning, see? Now everyone’s placing their bets. Those chips represent credits.”

She takes a chip off the top of her pile, turning it around and leering at it. When it comes to her turn, she tosses a pile of chips. Din blinks. ...She has no idea how much she bet, did she. He sighs. “The goal is to reach twenty-three or negative twenty-three.” Grogu makes a noise of affirmation, as if he is really following along. “It might look like a game of luck at first, but a good player can trick others into losing.” Grogu giggles. “Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s how she beat me in the Razor Crest.”

Now comes the reveal. When it gets to her turn, she shows her cards… not a great hand. The dealer takes her chips. “Wait, how much did you say that was? Th-that many credits?” She bites the inside of her cheek.

C’mon, Din thinks. Focus.

He holds his breath, watching the game continue. Her knee bounces under the table, biting her nails and utterly betraying her nerves. “That’s no good,” he tells Grogu. “In sabacc, you can’t let anyone read your face.” She’s managed to lose a big chunk of the buy-in… What was going on?

The handsome man next to her leans in, speaking to her a smooth and quiet voice. “You’re playing for the beskar, aren’t you?”

“What’s it to you?” She waits for her cards to come.

He chuckles. “You gave it your best shot, doll. Tell you what.” He grins, pushing the rest of his chips into the pot. “I’m all in.” She lifts a brow, pressing her lips into a thin line. If she wants to continue, she’ll have to match him… which means putting in the rest of her chips. “How about I sweeten the deal, doll?” His hand, hidden by the table, rests on her thigh. “I’ll take you on a date when I win. And hey, I’ll even be a good sport and give you some of the beskar.”

Oh, how she wants to stand and slam his face into the table, or maybe even throw his drink into his eyes. Or both. That’s how she’d settle this on Tatooine. “Oh really? You’d just give me the beskar?”

“Maybe an ingot.” He rubs the skirts of her dress, sending slimy shivers down her spine. “Depends on how good the date goes.”

That’s it. She grabs his hand, taking it off her hand.

“Oh, I’d be careful,” he whispers. “You make a scene and you’ll get kicked out, doll.”

Her heart races and all she wants to do is punch him in the face. Her nostrils flare as she wills her temper to die back down before it bursts and she ruins it all.

It’s no better than the gambling dens in Tatooine. That’s what Din told her. She replays his soothing voice in her head, exhaling slowly. Then she loosens the grip on the man’s hand and smiles. “Sorry, handsome.” She leans towards him. Then I’ll handle this like I do back home. “You know…” She presses the tip of her foot against his leg, saying whatever flattering thing comes to her head first.

All the while, she runs her eyes over the cards. She remembers each one she’s seen so far. She thinks about which ones she hasn’t seen yet, which ones she has, every little calculation.

“This is my first time in such a pretty place.” She puts on what she calls is her “dumb smile.” “Have you heard of chocolate cake?”

“Aww, doll. If you want, I’ll get you so much cake. You’ll get sick of it.”

Din watches the scene in front of him unfold, his throat closing. What in the hell is she doing? Flirting at a time like this? This isn’t her strategy, is it? She laughs, patting the guy’s arm. “Okay,” she says, her voice airy. “Let’s go all in!” And she pushes the rest of her credits into the pot. Din’s jaw drops.

Then comes the reveal. The handsome man slams his cards on the table with a grin. Twenty-one. “Sorry, doll. Them’s the breaks.”

She figured as much, the numbers never lie. Turning her head down, she pouts. “Aw.” Then, her expression darkens, her voice deepens, and her eyes are as hard steel. Gently, she shows her hand. “Dead man’s hand.” The crowd collectively gasps, a deafening silence sitting in after. She smirks. “Sorry. Doll.”

Oh, it is so satisfying seeing the handsome man’s look of utter dejection as they take the rest of his chips. Din won’t lie, hearing the dealer declare a wipe out brings a smirk to his lips as well. He chuckles, shaking his head. “She’s something, isn’t she?” Grogu coos back.

“Th-that can’t be right! You…” The handsome man seethes from where he stands, knowing there is nothing he can do. When the dealer asks him to leave, she hides a proud smile behind her hand. While he hems and haws on his way out, she catches the look of Din’s visor. Knowing he sees her, she laughs, then she mouths “thank you.”

The image of her first victory is burned into Din’s mind. Her coy, yet beaming smile, the soft laugh that makes her jewelry jingle, the validation in her entire being… It’s incredible.

[deludedfantasy]

Trimax Volume 14 Ch 1-5

I briefly pop in from my vacation to bring you some thoughts on volume 14 because apparently nothing can stop the Trigun brainrot. Parts of this were written while incredibly jet lagged or on a train, so hopefully this makes sense.

Ch 1

Awww, sometimes Vash is a little too honest. And he forgets that he doesn’t look as old as he is. Also, what a throwback: full blond Vash with his original coat. The nostalgia is hitting hard.

The contradictions of Vash’s life and philosophy are spelled out so succinctly. He picked up a weapon of violence in the name of peace and he’s lived by that complicated word for so many years. And he did what it took to keep his own word. He covered himself in scars for it, doing things no rational person would do all in order to avoid harm.

The repetition of “That is how I lived my life” paired against the training montage and Vash shooting the coin case is so evocative. As is the past tense. He’s officially throwing that aside and making a choice. A choice to kill.

You know what I noticed? We haven’t seen Vash’s eyes once this chapter in the present, just the reflection of his glasses. He’s made his choice but he’s hiding behind a facade because the choice is killing him on the inside.

Vash is no longer playing Legato’s game but by destroying the coin case, he’s also given Legato a lot of power over him. I wonder if that was also on purpose?

Also, why is Legato suddenly saying he held Vash under control for 8 months? It definitely said 7 earlier in the manga.

Oh my god??? Vash slipped out of Legato’s control!!!! Truly, he’s so powerful when he’s not stuck in a hole for months on end. Also, spending that much time under Legato’s control let him learn it intimately and probably let him discover the weak spots so he could slip out of it he needed to later.

So Legato sees it too. That Vash has decided to set aside his ideals. And of course, Legato still wins because that’s what he wanted—to break Vash if he couldn’t kill him.

VASH WHAT THE HELL.

He’s destroying his left arm to get closer to Legato???? That is…at once a very Vash thing to do and not.

Knives’s approving smile from Legato’s memories is everything he wanted and it’s what Legato sees at the moment of his death. But part of me wonders how much of this is memory and how much is wishful thinking, Legato projecting his own wants and desires onto this memory.

I’m also obsessed with the brief glance we get of a child Elendira. Who is she? Where did Knives find her? Why did she follow him and why did he let her? She’s the only GHG we don’t get ANY backstory on. Not even a snippet. NIGHTOW I WANNA KNOW.

Argh!!! Vash gets so close but he hesitates! A hundred and fifty years of conditioning stay his hand at the last second. Even though he’s said he’s made his choice. But he was hiding from it too. His glasses have closed him off. He hasn’t faced the choice.

Well, he’s pissed Legato off and now he’s going to make him face it.

This is an eerie mirror of the “shoot” scene with Wolfwood. The way Legato holds the gun to his forehead, telling Vash to shoot. That scene almost works like foreshadowing. Wolfwood even said that his death would make it worthwhile if he knew Vash could make a decision like that. And well…the need for that has come to fruition.

I hate to say it, but Legato is right. Holding the gun to his head and not shooting is kinda cruel. That’s just letting someone feel all the fear, let it ramp up, instead of finishing it quickly.

And in the end, all Vash accomplished by hesitating is putting someone else’s life in danger.

With Livio’s life on the line, suddenly we see Vash’s eyes again. They’re a little wild and on edge. He can’t let his new friend die, the person Wolfwood sacrificed himself to save.

Legato knows exactly what he’s doing to torment Vash. He knows all of Vash’s weak points and he’s not afraid to use them.

I hate giving Legato any credit whatsoever but…he’s kinda right again. Look, Vash’s ideals are wonderful. He seeks to make the world a better place by not killing people. But the root of those ideals comes from something so twisted and idealized, it’s done nothing but cause him and the people around him harm and strife. His scars, his inability to connect with humanity despite his mission to protect them, it comes down to his downright saintly principles which force him to live a life that is removed from reality.

Sometimes, you have to make a choice, to kill, to do the hard thing. Because standing down isn’t an option. Standing down is the worse result. Vash’s ideals are beautiful but in the end, by keeping them, he is a dreaming saint. And saints don’t get to live. Saints are saints because they are martyred and completely inhuman. And does he really want to be inhuman?

BUT THEN. Who does Vash think of before he shoots, before he makes his final decision? Wolfwood! Perhaps the most human man of all. He certainly wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a sinner either, and he came to mean so much to Vash. His death hurt so much Vash couldn’t speak his name or think of his face. But now, for the first time in four volumes, we see him fully. Wolfwood, who killed to protect and died in order to save someone he loved, who also in the end, finally got to make his choice.

And now, so does Vash. And he does it for Wolfwood.

Ch 2

Does Livio even understand what’s happening? Because Elendira suddenly rose from the dead and went for his throat, and then she collapsed just as quickly. Does he know that it’s Legato? Does Livio know Vash killed Legato for him? This question haunts me daily.

You know what else haunts me? Vash’s face right afterwards. It’s so difficult to look at. For the first time in almost 2 chapters, we see his eyes and they are big and glassy. He has this terrible pained…smile, grimace? I’m not sure how to describe it.

Nor will it ever stop haunting me that Vash didn’t kill to protect himself or to get closer to Knives. He did it for Wolfwood, to honor his sacrifice, to save Livio. He took on Wolfwood’s ideals just like Wolfwood took on his. They changed each other…

I’m experiencing so many emotions, I don’t even know what to say. Vash is realizing how difficult killing really is and he wonders if it hurt Wolfwood this much too. Is he regretting calling him a coward? Vash didn’t understand Wolfwood or his motivations back then, but now he does, and he realizes what he said was so wrong. And knowing Vash, he probably wonders if calling him a hopeless coward was what set Wolfwood down the path to his death.

Also, did Livio find Vash somehow? I didn’t think they were close together at all.

I like that nothing is simple in Trigun. Technically, the Earth Fleet came to help, but they’re willing to do anything to stop Knives, including bombing and irradiating the planet and killing thousands of people in the process.

So Livio does know what Vash did for him? That’s gonna give him a lot of feelings and complexes to work through later…

The juxtaposition in this story always gets me. As Vash struggles with killing one person, the Earth Fleet easily decides to sacrifice millions in the name of peace. How can they, who are not part of this world, understand anything about it? How can they make that kind of decision not knowing anything about the people struggling and living on the planet’s surface? Killing is not the easy way out and it never was, as Vash has just intimately discovered.

Continuation of everyone telling Vash to stop carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and actually ask for help! Will he do it? No, but saying it to his face is a good first step in getting him to understand.

Ch 3

Oh, this is one of my favorite parts of the manga. I remember this vividly from my first read. The first time the dependent Plants truly communicate with humanity.

The moment with the little girl just…oh my heart. For a moment, she saw the Plant’s memories but she also projected her own feelings. And that could have gone a lot of ways. People could’ve gotten scared or violent or taken advantage of a scared kid, but everyone’s immediate reaction is kindness. They help her find her mother. It just proves that humanity has a great capacity for goodness, especially when they can understand each other. Because every one of those adults has been a scared kid before and feeling those feelings again reminded them of that.

What they show is the history of humanity and Plants on No Man’s Land, the highs and lows, the good and the bad. The gratefulness of those first desperate people when they managed to get water from a Plant and the chaos and desperation that followed. How slowly towns and cities grew up around Plants.

Knives is experiencing all these memories in full. He might have to contend with the fact that the relationship between Plants and humanity isn’t so black and white. There is hurt and abuse for sure, but there is always kindness and gratefulness. One doesn’t negate the other, but it turns his strict worldview on its head. It should anyway.

People have warred and killed over Plants, but they’ve also venerated them, and taken care of them. They fixed them and cleaned their bulbs, had meaningful meetings there. And the Plants were always watching, remembering all their faces, and interestingly, there’s no malice or hatred for humanity in these memories. Despite how they sometimes waste the Plants’ gifts and abuse them, the Plants seem to care about humans in their own way.

Ch 4

It’s terrible that the Earth Fleet cares more about stopping Knives than saving the people of the planet. They’re really scared of Independents, and sure, Knives is more powerful than they’ve ever seen, but they took the nuclear option very quickly. It makes you question what Earth’s relationship with Independents is really like.

Vash’s hair it completely black now. He’s used up most of his power. He’s done and at his lowest point here. And now he’s haunted by everyone he’s lost, everyone he couldn’t save, whether they were friends or enemies.

It says something that he’s faced first with Legato, his first kill, but right behind him it’s Wolfwood, and he’s smiling. I can’t figure out what it means, but there’s something to it, like Wolfwood is the one who makes what he did okay.

But still, he feels like he’s alone with all of this, that this is his endless burden. And makes me so sad because he’s not! He’s been told that over and over, but it’s like he’s not hearing it.

What kind of victory is it to destroy an entire planet to defeat Knives? It’s certainly a sin like the Fleet commander says. Asking God for His blessing is certainly a decision in this case, one almost bordering on blasphemy, asking God for His blessing to commit a sin.

Of course, Knives is so powerful he keeps that from happening. But he’s become so inhuman to get that powerful. It’s been happening for ages, but I feel like he’s reached his peak now. Just look at him.

Vance loses hope when he sees the Fleet go down, but when Meryl and Milly see they’re still alive, they get right back to work. I love them so much. Life on No Man’s Land is hard but it’s also what makes them so resilient. They make their own hope and they’re used to working for the hard times. As long as they’re still alive, they’re not done.

Say it, Meryl! Despite Vash’s efforts, he can’t do it alone. The only way to succeed is by working together. Not just humans working together, but humans and Plants together as well.

Whoa, what did Vash do? Also where is he? Meryl and Milly found him but where did they put him? Did they just dump him somewhere while they kept working on making contact with the dependent Plants?

Ch 5

“What’s there left to see?” → Coming from Vash, that thought is so hopeless. It means he’s given up on Rem’s promise of a blank ticket, the very core of his ideals. It’s fitting then, that this chapter is called, Ticket to the Future.

Ok, I see, they put him on the floor in the room they’re working in. I’m happy he at least heard Meryl’s conviction to stand with him even if he probably doesn’t believe it wholeheartedly.

He wants to keep going even though he feels like he can’t. Some small part of him doesn’t want to die.

Vash hears the Plants! That’s why he shoots up like that. And they can hear him too.

I wonder what Knives plan is for after he’s done destroying humanity. Is it to find another planet for Plants to live on their own, away from the influence of humanity?

That’s an insane plan, but that’s Vash for you. His face in this section makes me think he isn’t planning on surviving this either. He’s broken his ideals, he’s lost the future he saw for a moment, he doesn’t think there’s anything left for him to see. But to his dying breath, he’ll fight to make sure humanity at least has a future.

Something about the way Knives screams, “Don’t touch me!” really gets to me. Vash is connecting to the dependent Plants, not him, but since Knives is fused with them, he thinks of them as himself. The thing is…I still don’t think they’re him. He’s taken away their autonomy and made them himself, but they are their own separate beings and in the pursuit of his mission, he’s forgotten that.

Oh, wait, Knives is actually trying to do that now to keep Vash from winning. He’s planning on fully incorporating the Dependents so they have no will of their own at all anymore. Which goes counter to his whole point of giving Plants freedom but when has Knives been anything but the world’s biggest hypocrite in the name of assuaging his own fears?

Vash’s beliefs have kept him going for 150 years. It’s what kept him alive and allowed him to do good. It’s sad that he never lived his life truly for himself, but there’s also something beautiful in him believing so strongly in the Plants and their own will, their power to make their own decision, whatever it might be. It’s a stark contrast to Knives, who isn’t even pretending to give them any choice anymore.

In their own way, Vash and Knives are trying to be saviors and saints. Vash for humanity and Plants and Knives just for Plants. While I think Vash goes about it in such a way that hurts him more than helps him, you can’t say that his efforts have been for nothing, that he hasn’t accomplished any good. He’s definitely saved people and Plants, unlike Knives who claims to do those things, but is really fulfilling his own selfish goals and acting out of fear rather than benevolence or actual belief.

But suddenly, somewhere, Vash has found some hope again. He wants to take that blank ticket for himself. He wants to make a better future and see what that world looks like. The only thing is I can’t figure out what caused this change of heart after he’s spent nearly four volumes now being passively suicidal. My best guess is that connecting with the Plants like that gave him some perspective and reminded him of everything he’d dedicated his life to, everything he’d been fighting for.

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 1:

Everybody Wants To Rule THEIR World Ch 7:

Summary:

"You need only close your eyes to it and be happy and safe with us."

The Keeper (player) has already secured the repository and Sebastian's loyalty, emboldening his descent into darkness. Now, they just need to win over Ominis, cure Anne, and create a domain to call their own.

And not necessarily in that order.

The Keeper's tale, a post-game story of a morally-grey, pragmatic, Chaotic Neutral, non-binary, muggleborn, orphan player character, so burned by 1800s orphanages, that they became a power hoarder who demands more payment for quests, burns paintings but doesn't want to rule the world, just their own territory and the two boys who'd caught their eye.

Warnings: This chapter contains smut!

Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Spoilers! Dark content! Slow-burn canon-compilant corruption! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least)

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: More sexy times! No gender descriptives for the Keeper, like the previous sex scene!

I mean, of course we have to have the obligatory Prefect’s bathroom sex scene!

It had been tempting to simply sleep in the Undercroft, cuddling on the cushions, but the three eventually agreed that a proper bath was needed.

"Have either of you been to the prefect's bathroom?" The Keeper whispered as they made their way into the Faculty Tower under the disillusionment charm.

"Nope, though I have heard rumours about how luxurious it is." Sebastian grinned as the Keeper used the alohomora charm to unlock the door to the tower. Not at all surprised that they knew the spell.

The three of them slipped through the door quietly. Fortunately, they only encountered two professors speaking as they took the stairs to the infirmary. Most of the students were out enjoying their weekend evening, so they managed to slip into the prefect’s bathroom without issue.

"I'll ward the door." Ominis murmured as they removed their disillusionment charms, casting a strong locking spell.

The Keeper raised an eyebrow in appreciation. "Impressive, don't think even a third grade Alohomora would get through that."

Ominis shrugged. "Privacy was very important to my family."

"I can imagine." The Keeper gave a wry smile, tapping their wand against one of the many taps around the tub. Why were so many of them needed? The taps immediately began to fill the enormous tub with warm water at just the right temperature. Honestly, it was more like a pool than a tub.

The Keeper immediately began stripping, throwing their garments over the changing screen carelessly. Sebastian felt his cheeks warm at the sight of their toned body, he'd known they'd be fit just from watching them roll constantly in battle, but Merlin were they fit.

Their lean body had looked slight under their baggy robes but without, one could see how powerful their build was, thighs thick from hours of riding their thestral and abdomen tight from the aforementioned rolls.

Sebastian forced himself to ignore the multitudes of scars littering their body, he'd already expected them and he could get angry about them later.

The Keeper smirked, clearly aware of Sebastian's appreciative eyes as they climbed into the tub. "Earth to Sebastian, do you plan on joining us any time this year?"

Sebastian snapped out of his stupor, realising that Ominis was already down to his undergarments while he'd been standing there like an idiot.

"It's rude to stare, Sebastian." Ominis chided teasingly as he folded his underwear and placed it on his neat stack of clothing on the counter by the mirror, along with his wand. Ominis chuckled as he walked past, towards the tub as Sebastian started to disrobe as well.

"If you could see what I'm seeing, you'd stare too." Sebastian rolled his eyes as he quickly shucked his clothes, letting them drop to the floor without concern and made his way to the tub as well.

"Is that so? Then, may I?" Ominis asked, moving towards the spot where he'd heard the Keeper's voice come from before, hand following the side of the tub for orientation.

"Of course." The Keeper smiled softly, reaching a hand out to grasp Ominis', carefully guiding him over the steps into the pool and pressing his palm to their cheek.

Ominis trailed his hands over their face, smiling in return as he felt the gentle curl of their lips against his palm. Familiarising himself with the shape of their brow, their nose, soft cheeks, the occasional scar, and their plush lips. He shivered as their tongue slipped out to tease his fingers before they dipped to the Keeper's jawline and smoothed down their neck.

Ominis swallowed as his hands drifted down further, feeling the strong muscles of their shoulders, sliding past their sharp collarbones and down to their chest.

His cheeks flushed as his hands showed more of their normally clothed parts to him, feeling the differences in their body compared to Sebastian's and his own. Their musculature were definitely different and he could now see why Sebastian had been staring.

The many ridges and jagged scar tissue his fingers caught against, as he explored, tugged at his heartstrings. Not a single one of them were a neat slice.

Feeling their heart beat faster under his fingers, Ominis let his hands travel further down, past the firm surface of their stomach, feeling them shiver as he explored the most intimate region of their body.

The water around them rippled, signalling Sebastian’s approach. "Were you touched like this?"

Ominis really really wanted to smack Sebastian, that buffoon! Bringing up those things while he was touching their beloved.

The Keeper chuckled, leaning back against Sebastian’s bare chest as he wrapped his arms around their waist from behind. "Once, it was so disgusting that I never allowed it to happen again."

"I'm sorr-" Ominis flinched, moving to withdraw his hands, but the Keeper stopped him, placing their hands over his own.

"I said that my first time being touched was disgusting, I whored myself out in every other possible way to survive after that, only giving with my mouth, hands, feet, anything but myself. This isn’t the same. It's different with you, both of you." The Keeper murmured. "This feels… special? It feels… right."

Ominis relaxed, reassured by their words as Sebastian coaxed the Keeper onto his lap as he sat on one of the steps under the water.

"We will never let anyone else touch you again. Never." Sebastian whispered into their ear, the quiet anger in his voice making the Keeper shiver with delight. They loved this sharp and vicious side of Sebastian.

"We won't let anyone hurt you like this again." Ominis echoed his own promise as he knelt before them on a step that allowed his head to remain above the surface of the water. Letting his hands run over their strong thighs, feeling them tremble in excitement as the Keeper turned their head to the side to kiss Sebastian, feeling his tongue press against theirs possessively.

Sebastian pawed at their chest, finding their hardened nipples and giving them the same treatment he'd received earlier. Their lips parted to release a soft sound of surprised pleasure. The Keeper had known, from responses they’d gotten, that it felt good, but they were still caught off guard by the pulses of dripping warmth that slid through their veins.

Ominis felt his heart ache at the way their body jolted in surprise, sad that the first time the Keeper had been anything but confident, the whole night, was when they were receiving pleasure rather than giving it.

Well, it was about time they got used to receiving pleasure, because it was going to become the norm. This, Ominis vowed to himself, swallowing his nerves and moving with purpose, sliding his hands up along their thighs to go through with his oath.

The Keeper gasped as they felt Ominis' fingers pressing against them, relishing the new sensations as his clumsy yet determined caresses stoked a fire in their loins that they'd never experienced before. Their fingers tightened around Sebastian’s forearms, feeling the warmth begin to grow steadily into a burning heat.

Separating their lips, Sebastian lowered his head to their shoulder, beginning to suckle and lap at their skin, marking them like they'd marked him, as he spread their legs with his own, giving Ominis more room to pleasure them.

The Keeper hadn’t thought the feeling of someone prying their legs open could be anything but horrifying. Yet here, with Ominis and Sebastian, they didn’t feel the urge to vomit, how strange. The movement, exposing their most vulnerable parts, was instead filling their veins with adrenaline, the obscene nature of it feeling exciting, even exhilarating.

Ominis leaned forward at the sound and movements, correctly guessing that the Keeper's lips were now free to be captured by his own. It took a moment to find them, catching first on their jaw and climbing slowly along their cheek, where they finally met.

To his pleasure, their lips parted willingly, eagerly for him, and Ominis lapped gently at their tongue as he continued to stimulate them rhythmically. Exploring with his hands and figuring out what made them feel good from the way their muscles spasmed against his palms, feeling the heat radiating from their skin.

All while Sebastian curiously experimented with nipping at the skin of their nape, running his hands over their torso and feeling their shuddering breaths against his chest.

The Keeper basked in their attention, feeling like everything they had ever done in their entire bloody life had been worth it to end up here. Every scar was now a trophy, a testament to what they'd overcome to be here. Between the two people they had come to need so deeply, that they felt like they'd die if they were ever parted.

When had their fascination with Sebastian and Ominis become such an obsession? Even they did not know. It was beyond dangerous, unfathomably risky to allow themselves to need not only one, but two people.

Humans were fragile and so easy to lose, but God protect anyone who took either of these boys away from them, because the fools who try, would need divine intervention to survive their wrath.

The Keeper pressed back against Ominis' hands with building desperation, the pleasure, and the sheer joy of being at the centre of these two was becoming unbearable. An unfamiliar need crawling through their insides, almost scary in the way it goaded them to do things they'd never even considered before.

Their fingers threaded into his hair and curled over his shoulder. They needed more, needed everything that Sebastian and Ominis had to offer.

They nipped at Ominis' lips in frustration, whimpering pleadingly, while he merely continued his steady pace, refusing to let them rush to the end, drawing out their pleasure and driving them insane with desire. They pulled away just enough to leave a small gap between their lips and Ominis'.

"Fuck, Ominis, please!" The Keeper gasped, surprising themselves, they'd thought they'd never beg again in their life, but now that it was out, they couldn't stop. Filling the spaces between them with words they'd never thought they'd speak.

Ominis shivered, the sound of his name passing from their lips in such a needy tone made his heart stutter. He felt almost dizzy with some unknown emotion, like something had awakened deep inside him. Muffled pleas fell from the Keeper’s lips as he recaptured them, pressing his mouth against them harder, tongue seeking theirs out with fervour as he increased the speed of his ministrations.

Struck by a sudden and urgent need to feel them fall apart at his hand.

The Keeper mewled in delight as they raised quickly to the peak they'd sought, their body clenching as they reached their climax, their exalted moan swallowed by Ominis' mouth as they shuddered in satisfaction.

As they gradually came down from their high, the Keeper leaned back, gasping for air, slumping back against Sebastian's chest, resting their head on his shoulder, and panting from exertion.

"Wish I could tell you how they look, the way they did, but I don't think I can." Sebastian chuckled. "So, you'll have to make do with; they look like we did a good job and it's bloody hot."

"So poetic." Ominis rolled his eyes with a helpless smile.

"Thank you." Sebastian grinned as the Keeper laughed breathlessly.

"Merlin knows why I love you." Ominis sighed, shaking his head dramatically.

"Could be my stunning eyes, my striking good looks, gorgeous hair, or any number of endearing qualities, I'm sure." Sebastian winked as the Keeper moved off his lap to sit on the step beside him with an incredulous snort.

"I'm blind, you dimwit." Ominis replied flatly.

"Surely not to my charms." Sebastian grinned, standing, and running a finger along the underside of Ominis' chin.

"Oh, do shut up." Ominis sighed, leaning forward to silence Sebastian, feeling the other boy's shit eating grin against his lips.

Ominis threaded his fingers into Sebastian's hair, moaning as Sebastian pressed their bodies together with a hand on his hip, causing their lengths to nudge against each other. The two gasped when they felt the Keeper's fingers encircle both of them, pressing them together more firmly.

Sebastian allowed his hand to run along Ominis' torso, feeling his friend's slim and soft body, so unlike the Keeper's. Pale and smooth, unmarred save the sprinkles of beauty marks across his skin.

Ominis gasped as Sebastian began taking revenge on him as well, rubbing his thumb across Ominis' nipples. Well two could play at that game. He smoothed his hands over Sebastian's chest again, hearing him groan against his mouth, making a point to draw out more shivers than the other.

The Keeper chuckled as the two boys tried to one-up each other, only serving to rile themselves up further as the Keeper moved their hands over the two erections, rubbing them together and running their thumbs over their heads, encouraging the boys' hips to begin thrusting against each other, trapped between the Keeper's palms.

They watched, enraptured as their two precious, treasured boys chased their pleasure, rutting against each other eagerly, catching brief glimpses of their tongues entangled with each other in their mouths.

"Jesus, the both of you look amazing." The Keeper breathed, completely enamoured with the way the two of them moaned into each other's mouths at the reminder that they were being watched.

The boys' thrusts became increasingly frantic as they rapidly approached their ends, the Keeper watching with satisfaction as Sebastian came first, continuing to hold him against Ominis until he began to show signs of overstimulation, then they let go of him and continued to hold Ominis as he chased his own completion in their grip.

Sebastian sighed, dropping his body into the water, letting natural buoyancy carry some of his weight and wading over to a step to rest as Ominis came with a muffled cry. The Keeper stroked him through his completion before supporting and guiding him to the steps as well.

Sebastian sidled up against the Keeper's side, placing an arm around their waist, while Ominis rested his head on their shoulder on the other side, grasping their hand loosely under the water.

The three rested their tired bodies together, simply enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's affection.

The Keeper had never known such contentment, they'd always believed firmly in the inevitability and general unfairness of celestial dice. The fact that no one truly had the power of choice.

People made decisions based on their experiences and no one can choose their own experiences or the circumstances they were born to. Blame whoever you want, gods, men, fate, and luck. It wouldn't change a thing.

Everyone is just fighting for a place in the universe. Not everyone was lucky enough to even find one, but it seemed they were. They had never considered themselves to be fortunate, but now, they knew without a doubt.

They were the luckiest fucker on the planet. To have met Sebastian and Ominis, and they would suffer every second of their life a thousand more times to be right here, right now.

"Oh, we didn't get to ask, how was the survey?" Ominis mused absently, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yeah, because we got distracted." Sebastian grinned smugly.

The Keeper huffed a light laugh, enjoying the sounds of their voices, one might find it odd, but even that small thing was now bringing them peace.

"How did that even start again?" Ominis wondered, thinking back to when he returned to the Undercroft in the afternoon. The Keeper frowned for a moment searching their own memories as well.

"I believe I asked to watch the two of you snog." The Keeper smirked. "I got a lot more than that."

"That we did." Sebastian laughed, gently bumping his head against the Keeper's affectionately.

Ominis chuckled as well, curling around the Keeper’s arm. "So, how did the survey go? Hopefully it went better than my search for Anne."

The Keeper grimaced. "Sadly, I would say that it wasn't suitable, too many spider lairs in the vicinity and completely no ley lines, the only thing good was the terrain."

Sebastian sighed. "Guess we'll have to try something further out, I was hoping we could buy a plot near Feldcroft but I suppose the area has never really been all that habitable."

"We'll just have to keep looking." The Keeper placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sure we'll find somewhere perfect eventually. Then we'll finally have our own home."

Notes:

Look, MC be rolling like it's Elden Ring but infinite stamina bar, you cannot tell me they ain't fit as a horse.

God that was hard, writing without genitalia descriptions was not easy and so this ended up being shorter than I would have liked, at least the scenes that I write in the future will have assigned genders so it'll be a little easier on me, hopefully it was still good though! (Note from future self, three parts later and still no genitalia yet, I do love torturing myself.)

I wanted to show that, despite everything they've been through, being forced to grow up fast, and their seeming maturity, Keeper's still a kid too, just like the boys. One that can express joy and wonder when seeing the magical world and doesn't actually know much about romance.

In fact, I honestly like the writing for Sebastian and Ominis because of how realistically immature both of them are. From Sebastian being unable to control his emotions and the type of confidence that comes from inexperience. To Ominis and his flagrant denial, that one just looks like maturity because he doesn't behave impulsively and has a justification that sounds reasonable if you don't squint.

I mean, think about it, if everyone stopped because someone said "you shouldn't risk your life to save someone else", firefighters wouldn't be a thing. Is it someone's right to tell someone else that they can't throw their life away for something they believe in just because everyone says it's impossible? Activists and revolutionaries take issue with you if you say yes to that question.

Sure, Sebastian isn't going a great route, but that's because no one is guiding this dumb 15 year old kid and teaching him experiment safety. Hundreds of thousands of people died to make military regulations, they weren't stupid or wrong, they were just the first few.

Selfless love here, would have been supporting Sebastian the way MC does in game, correcting him when he goes teenage hormone crazy like on the mountain. Ominis was just as selfish as Sebastian, both trying to soothe their anxiety and fear of loss and prioritising keeping the person they need alive over the object of their obsession's happiness.

Ominis was doing to Sebastian exactly what Sebastian was doing to Anne. "I just need you alive, and I don't need you to be happy."

Of course, this is all understandable, because they're just kids who've experienced too much loss. It's not their fault that they fell into this pithole, parents do it all the time. But they can learn and that's what makes these boys beautiful.

Anyway, now that the relationship is fairly well established, we can start delving into the actual plot and get some character growth! Hope ya'll excited for where this story goes cos I've got so many plans in the works!

[lostinwildflowers]

Promenade

Erwin Smith x Reader

Summary: A war of dance is upon you, and somehow your partner is your rival. What will happen when it is time for the ultimate dance?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Rivals to lovers, angst, maybe some harsh language, lots of dance verbiage, some moments of ✨passion✨

For reference:

-The Tango for this fic: "Libertango"

A/N: Hi guys!! There was so much love for "The Dance", that I decided to continue! This is also set in the same AU as "Quickstep"! Please enjoy my loves❤️-Birch<3

Part 1 - "The Dance"

Part 3 - "The Olympic Games"

Black-heeled dance shoes glide across the gymnasium floor, smooth like skating on ice. Red strappy heels were in rhythm to the music, spinning on the flat-bottomed toe with a feisty elegance.

Sharp, steely blue eyes locked with a pair of (colored) ones, a constant fight to see whose spirit would break first. It was a question in the firm touch on the waist from a rough and practiced hand, to the lofted grip of nails biting into his shirt.

It was war.

Who would break first? Who would lose their cool? Who would be the one to break the illusion of romance?

The blonde you were interlocked with would not stand down. He was a warrior in his own right. One that was trained from the moment he could walk. Taught to be a strong, demanding, powerful leader that always demanded the best.

You, a lady throughout the ages. One who was lectured on independence, knowledge, and the way to listen when told. Yet you learned on your own too, fighting your own battles, learning to throw your own punches. Leading a life so as to never have a dampened fire to the burning spirit in your soul.

Thus, the music of "La Cumparsita" floating in the air was the sound of swords clashing together to you. It was the creak and hiss of bows drawing their arrows back before letting them fly at their opponent.

But your opponent was not backing down.

Erwin Smith was still as unwavering as ever, a strong wall made of hard stone standing in front of you, taking each casualty in stride. He was simply waiting for your own defense to shatter and fall apart in front of him.

He was waiting for the opportunity to strike so he could claim the win.

The two of you were locked into a physical and mental battle, your feet never once touching, and the fierce eye contact never breaking. You were determined to not give in, and so was he.

"This is all wrong!" a voice cuts through the music, making your focus shatter like a rock thrown at a piece of stained glass. Your defense is instantly down, and then the gym goes silent.

Your feet stop moving, as do Erwin's. The battlefield is at a stalemate as the instructor walks over to the two of you, clipboard in hand.

Your gaze glosses over as John, the instructor, stops beside you two, standing with his hands on his hips. There was a look of disapproval written all over his features, glaring at the two of you.

What you seem to miss, is that when you break eye contact with Erwin to look at John, his eyes never leave the curve of your cheek.

His hold on you never changes, but his blue eyes slowly and methodically flit around the features of your face. They note the way your jaw was just barely clenched in frustration at the lull in practice.

He sees the whisps of hair that were slowly falling out of place from the sides of your black headband. He could see the small scar on your cheek from where your cat had scratched you as a child.

Erwin even allowed himself to look at the grimace on your lips. The way your eyelashes batted a few times in confusion, trying to process the mistake you had made.

In what was barely a second, Erwin had taken in every detail of you without scrutiny. And though he would never say it out loud, you were much more beautiful up close than in any competition the two of you had been pitted against each other in.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to Erwin's gaze, as you were still trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the set. We were on time, the steps were right, and we even managed to place that fan just correctly, you thought to yourself.

"This is all wrong," John repeats once he's next to you. He whips his head to look at Erwin, points a finger at him, and grumbles, "You look like you would sacrifice her to the wolves if you could!"

You flick your eyes to Erwin, where you could see his eyes tear away from your own in the briefest moment. Then you see the look on his face change as he processes John's words. Oh, he so would if he could, you think.

Yet you're taken aback when John swivels and glares at you, pointing a finger in your face. He shakes his head from side to side and yells, "And you look like you hate him!" Not far off.

John takes a step back, jerking his hands, and continues, "This is tango! This is the dance of passion, not murder! You two need to look like you're in love and can't hold yourself back. If you don't, you will never win at the qualifier."

Never win. Those words ringing in your head made your stomach drop. Never win? Just because of Erwin? I don't think so.

That was all you needed to hear. You have wanted to qualify for the Olympics your whole life. You had been preparing for this qualifier your entire life. It wasn't your fault that Hayden didn't work out as a partner.

And now? You had one of the best tango dancers in the world holding onto you. While Erwin was a heartless, controlling jerk, you needed this to work- even if that meant pushing aside your rivalry.

You give John a quiet "yes sir" in affirmation, with Erwin doing similarly. As John walks back over to the sound system, Erwin releases you to walk back to the beginning of the set.

"No," John calls after Erwin, "La Cumparsita is not going to work for you two. You need something with more... passion."

---

8 minutes, 43 seconds. That's how long you had before your Olympic qualifier. 7 minutes, 5 seconds. That's how long you had before you would be dancing in the most important competition of your life with your rival.

You weren't sure how your dance routine would come together in competition. You had only started it after John reassigned your song choice. People usually spend weeks perfecting every single move in a routine, but you had merely days.

Deep down, you knew there was only one way this could end well, and it would be if you could trust Erwin. Trust in his steps, trust the guide in his hand and his body.

But he was so unpredictably predictable. You never knew what he was thinking or planning, and that was something you could count on- that he would change the plan in the middle of it to suit his wants.

So, there were really only two things you had to do out there. Follow, and perform.

It was that simple, yet it seemed like a nightmare. Before your partner had bailed on you, all you could think of was this day. Dancing in your qualifier, confident as ever, dressed to the nines.

Now, you were watching the pairs before you go with a pit in your stomach. Your competitors were good. Too good for you to make a foolish mistake.

The unsettled feeling in your stomach only seemed to worsen when Erwin appeared by your side, groomed to perfection.

His blonde locks were gelled back to keep the hair out of his eyes, reinforcing the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his square jaw. A crisp white button-down that was tailored to his every need rested on his torso, a simple black vest over top of it.

He wore a matching set of black slacks and his shiny black ballroom shoes. And, because he was Erwin, he had a red bowtie that matched just flawlessly to the sparkly red dress you wore.

On the other hand, your hair was kept in an elegant fashion, with just a few curls hanging loose around your face, and a small red clip behind your left ear to accentuate your pair of diamond earrings.

You also were wearing a matching gold necklace that you had been saving for this day, a small red gem hanging as the pendant over your heart.

Your red dress was gorgeous. It was everything you had ever dreamed it of being; a high-low styled cut, with the front ending just at your knee while the back trailed down to your ankles.

It wasn't just red though, it was glimmering. From top to bottom, you were glowing in the dark lights of the wings to the ballroom floor.

In addition to your dress and hair, you wore your red strappy ballroom heels to go with your outfit. Your makeup was simple with just some shiny gold shadow on your lids, accompanied by some dark mascara and a bold red lip.

Erwin coughed lightly, clearing his throat softly to get your attention. Your (colored) eyes glance up toward him, where you find his steely gaze already looking at you.

A sudden wave of butterflies washes over you, and you suddenly feel lightheaded with the pounding of your heart in your chest. He looked... better than you expected.

Not that you thought he would look bad, of course. You knew Erwin was considered handsome, especially in the ballroom world. You couldn't find anyone more put together than him.

The sound of the crowd cheering distracts you from your thoughts for a moment, (colored) orbs flashing out to look at the dance floor. In your moment of distraction, Erwin's eyes look you up and down, taking in your elegant and distinguished appearance.

He takes a deep breath and then murmurs, "You look nice." Your head snaps to the left to look at him, hardly comprehending what he said. Me? Is he talking to me?

The two of you are interrupted as the pair of competitors comes walking off of the floor between Erwin and you. You take a step back and apologize, the couple splitting the distance and sliding through the narrow gap.

Your gaze trails after them, the thoughts of the conversation just a second ago slipping your mind. Just as you start to remember what he said, he beats you to it.

"Y/n," he starts, his eyes very serious, "Can you allow yourself to trust me out there on the floor? This is the only way for us to score well."

Your body freezes up in surprise for a moment, your painted-red lips hanging open. You think better of it and shut your mouth, giving him a gentle nod.

"Not like I have much of a choice now, do I?" you half-heartedly laugh, your nerves coming slightly undone. Your hands involuntarily wring together, trying to put your worries at ease.

Erwin takes a step toward you, covering the distance that had been made by the dancers. He looks down at you with a different expression in his eye, one that seemed kinder. Softer.

"There is always a choice. It just depends on if it's the right one or not," he murmurs, his hand coming up under your chin to force your eyes to look up at him.

When you look into what seems to be the ice plains of his eyes, you see no lie. No deception. Just what he believes is the honest truth.

You swallow thickly and mumble, "I can do it. Just give me the chance to be the star, alright? I need to qualify. I need the attention on me."

Erwin gives you a small nod, releasing you from his grasp. His gaze turns to the floor, where the next performers are in the middle of their song.

"You will be the star, I'll make sure of it."

---

Tap, tap.... click, tap, tap, click.

Blinding white lights flood the ballroom floor, the rays bouncing off of the dark mahogany-colored wood. The dark pine in comparison to your dress and accents made you stand out like a glistening ruby.

Your heart started pounding harder and harder when you caught sight of the judges in their stands. It skipped a beat when you could see your instructors and teammates in the crowds, nerves written on their own faces.

The only thing that was grounding you was what was held in your hand, which was Erwin's rough one, leading you out into the middle of the dance floor.

You couldn't stop the feeling of being overwhelmed by the lights, the cameras flashing, and the sharp and intense looks from the judges. It was too much.

"Hey, eyes on me," the deep voice comes from next to you. Erwin whisks you to face him, the crowd settling down as the ballroom lights dim, leaving a spotlight on you and him.

You do as he says, your eyes flickering up to meet his steady and calm gaze, giving you the chance to still the slight shake in your knees, and warm your cool fingertips up.

Erwin offers you the invite to dance with his free hand, and you accept as if it were second nature, setting up into your standard ballroom dance frame for tango.

You were close to him, that's how this was meant to go. But it made your heart pound in your chest harder than you liked, and it made your throat dry up with the want to drink water.

Yet when you looked up into Erwin's blue eyes, it was like the very blue of his eyes were cool fresh water puddles that quenched your thirst. Every moment waiting for the music to start went from feeling like a year to just a second.

Then what seemed like forever to set up, started. The music began, and Erwin immediately guided you into a rock step. You find the familiar feeling as quick as you can, letting your nerves float away and focus on the dance.

The pair of you do a few sets of rock steps, making a few turns to introduce the chemistry between you two as you are guided to the rhythm of slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.

After a moment of adjusting to the music and the feel, you feel yourself take a small breath, relaxing as Erwin pushes you into an open fan. It was a small moment, but you allow yourself a moment to shine.

Your arm guides your fingertips to point gracefully in the air above your head, which you accompany by a quick and snappy kick to the sky, showing a moment of sass and independence from your dance partner.

That leads to Erwin pulling you into a tight carousel circle. You end up spinning elegantly on one foot, allowing him to take long, ground-covering steps around you in a tight circle, with all of the attention on you.

At that moment, you find his sharp eyes again, leaning into his embrace enough to give the facade of passionate lovers. Erwin plays into this too, and after finishing the carousel, he leans you back into a small dip.

But in practiced fashion, a double kick from your legs pulls you out of his arms, leaving the two of you separate. Erwin falls into place behind you as you soulfully and gracefully tango-walk away from him, barely glancing over your shoulder to acknowledge him and build tension.

When you turn on your heel in time with the music to face him, you see Erwin reaching out after you, and then you snap back around to face the judges, your back turned to him. You strike a sultry pose while you let him start his small solo, trying to catch your breath.

Behind you, Erwin is perfectly executing his moves, gliding across the floor with a flawless rhythm to the music. His feet landed just in time, nailing the end of his solo before the two of you reunite.

While you hold your pose in anticipation for him to return to you, you take a breath.

You can do this. Here he comes.

Before you know it, Erwin is behind you, his large left hand resting on the point of your waist while his right one wraps around in front of you. His right hand grabs a hold of your left one, his arm crossing in front of your body in a close backward embrace.

And in time with the swell of the music, Erwin whips you around to face him, your head looking to your right, his looking to his left. You were facing the same direction, gliding your feet into the classic and dramatic tango walk.

Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow... Those were the counts in your head as you walked hand-to-shoulder with Erwin.

You could feel the tension building as he guided you in a straight line toward the judges, and then- panic sets in. These steps, these aren't the ones we practiced for this routine. These aren't even the steps for the other routine. These were... freestyle steps.

Suddenly, Erwin's words made so much more sense. This is the only way for us to score well. And so, you put your trust in him. You become hyperaware of how he signaled you with his hands, his body, and his feet.

And from the walk toward the judges, he pushes you into a rapid series of promenades. Your head flashes from left to right as you change direction every two steps maintaining the rhythm of quicks and slows. Your mind was reeling at his decisions, but you did your best to keep up.

Erwin had something planned, you knew it. Yet you follow his every step, and as the music was building to the last high, he pushes you into a set of rock steps in a box in front of the judges, leading up to something.

Then, you feel his grip on you tighten, and not knowing what his plan was, your grip on him tightens as well. You lock eyes with him, the tension high and the dance almost complete.

As the song hits its final chord, Erwin drops you into a deep dip right in front of the judges. The spotlight was dancing over you, and everything seemed to happen so fast.

Your right foot shoots into the air, your heel elegantly held high above his back, your head dangling precariously toward the floor. Erwin is bent over, holding you flat against his chest.

The beams from the spotlight dazzle you for a second before you realize your situation. You're close to him. Wow, he's close. Before you know it, his lips are mere millimeters from your own and your eyes snap to his, wide and pupils dilated.

All you can hear is the crowd. Cheering, clapping, hooting, and hollering. Whistles, bangs, and yells.

Yet that doesn't seem to matter, because Erwin is looking at you. Not like an enemy. Not like a rival. He's looking at you, more like...

Well, you didn't know. You couldn't pinpoint why he was looking at you like that. Like you were a package too delicate to be held by his hands.

He looked so deeply into your eyes, the crowd was drowned out. It was you and him in the spotlight. His eyes flick downwards for a split second, and you realize in an instant what he was thinking.

Just as you start to lean up and into him, he pulls you up and out of the dip. The crowd's cheers intensify, and he gives a blinding smile to them.

Your mind is absolutely reeling from his actions. The way he looked at you, the way he went off of the set routine. What on earth was he thinking?

You snap out of it when he squeezes your hand signaling for you to do the same as him and you get the memo. You smile at the crowd with as much grace as you can muster, before turning and bowing to the judges.

He then leads you off of the dance floor quietly, the next pair of dancers passing you on the way out. You didn't even realize that you were holding your breath, but the second you are behind the curtains, he releases you and continues to walk away.

You feel his hand pull away from your own and a pang of hurt washes over you as he disappears from sight. What was his problem? You did everything he asked. You followed his lead and acted like you liked him. All for your qualifier. And now he's acting like this?

He might have made you the star of the show out there on the dance floor, but at that moment, he was putting your burning flame right out for no reason.

---

You were standing side by side with the tall blonde, several other dance partnerships standing on either side of you, waiting for the results.

You couldn't make eye contact with Erwin, and he couldn't make eye contact with you. Neither of you could spare the other a glance, the tension high this time, but for all of the wrong reasons.

He hadn't said one word to you after stepping off of the floor, and the... well, moment, that happened at the end of your routine.

It felt like frost was coating your veins, slowly chilling you and your emotions. You didn't want to admit it, but it stung. It hurt the way he had gone from looking at you like you hung the moon and stars to completely disregarding your presence.

Suddenly, you felt foolish. Why would you ever think he would look at you like that for real? He's just here because you were the best statistic. He doesn't want you, he hates you. You're his rival. He's here because he wants to compete at the Olympics.

You had to talk yourself through his reasonings, drowning out the voice of the announcer introducing the finalists in your class. Maybe it's okay if I don't qualify this year. I mean, I could always find a partner that I actually have chemistry with.

But there was a part of you that disagreed with that thought. Your mind instantly flicked back through every touch and look from your routine.

The way his hands held you ever so close to his chest, or the look in his eye that screamed, "You're the only one I want." It made you dizzy thinking about it because you knew that he would never actually want you like that.

Your attention slowly comes back as they start up the placings into 10th place. From the edge of your vision, you can see John and the rest of your team nervously waiting for the results.

You only needed to make the top 3 placings to get enough points to qualify, and a part of you was nervous that you wouldn't make it. The other part? Kind of wished you didn't have to deal with Erwin.

"However we place," he mumbles just barely over the voice of the announcer and cheers, "Just know that you did well out there. I thought you were going to lose your cool."

Your (colored) eyes snap up toward him in a disgusted frown, "So now you're going to talk to me? You are absolutely unbelievable, Erwin Smith."

He just blinks calmly at you, stoic as ever. He shifts to face you slightly, and briefly glances around to make sure no one's attention was on you.

"You had no idea what I was going to do out there. You followed just as you were supposed to, just as I planned. You did exactly what we needed to do to get you qualified. If you have an issue with that-"

"And that leaves us to our top 5 placings!" came the announcer's voice. You briefly look away from Erwin before you whisper harshly, "It's not that, okay?"

A look of confusion tugs on his brows, and his lips part in a silent question of, what? You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "I'm not having this conversation right now."

"What's wrong with this conversation?" he asks, leaning in closer to you. From everyone else's perspective, it just looked like he was saying encouraging words. To you, it was torture.

You roll your eyes and start, "This is probably the first conversation we've ever had and all you can think of is yourself. You know, I was actually thinking differently about you, Erwin, but you proved me right after we got off the floor."

A flash of anger runs through his eyes, and his features harden at your words. His lip curls into a half-snarl before he whispers, "You wouldn't be here without me. I'd pick your battles carefully."

"And in second place, lead Erwith Smith and his follow, Y/n L/n, with a fantastic and passionate set for the Survey Corps," the announcer boomed.

You glare up at Erwin and growl, "And you wouldn't be going to the Olympics." At that, you turn away from him and smile into the crowd and at the judges, walking up to receive your medal and awards.

As you strutted away from him, you could feel that the day you dreamed of was poisoned. You were supposed to be happy, cheering, and smiling right now, hand in hand with your partner.

But instead, you felt your heart crawling deeper and deeper into its cage, lying in wait for the true battle with Erwin Smith.

Tag list: @xxdragonwriterxx @tejxswini @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm @sukosie @shirari @animated-moon @mitzwinchester @elitparadox @yumeyooa @angels-main @anlian-aishang @nathalunalune @bluebellhairpin

[liliallowed]

Can we share headcanons cause I wanna know your opinions on mine!

I have a headcanon that just to annoy Dust the Player would probably just make fun of him. Joke about how kills people or attacks. Calls him short and flirts in derogatory ways. Pokes fun at his past loved ones and when he kills the player they claim jokingly he's a husband/wife/non-binary spouse beater. They are just the silliest little killer you've ever seen how could you ever be mad at them!

Just a smug bastard!

oh definitely.

I see them having a whole bunch of different sides.

a cruel apathetic side that LOVES the chase. they'll casually wait around on purpose to let him get more LV just to pin him down and give themselves more of a challenge. or sabotage his attempts by warning other monster or scarring them away. they mock him just to grin at his sweet sweet pretty HATEFUL GLARE.

a playful careless and reckless side that LOVES the attention and mind games he plays with them. they love getting stabbed in the back or feeling the surprise if having the rug pulled from beneath their feet when they thought they had a steady grip on their blade. they love his expressions, his reactions. SPECIALLY when he's angry. they try messing with him just to rile him up.

it was effective at first but then dust learns quickly and becomes unresponsive to their taunts or flirting.

they try to mask their weaknesses with these cruel jokes. to tell themselves and remind themselves it's just a silly little game they shouldn't take too seriously. casually joking about killing his family or... him being bad at exp farming... or...

it used to be fun... but now it just feels like they're pushing against a lie. a big lie that they don't care about this world.

they do. not the world that came before. they're attached to this hellscape purgatory of their own making. this desolate wasteland filled with monster dust feels like home.

and the third side they desperately pretend that doesn't exist...

tw: angst warning (self sabotage)

tw: potential triggers maybe

a saddened and broken sympathetic side they hide away because it'll only make things worse. sympathy is just an insult added to injury that they refuse to throw at sans. because they already know his response. of course they would. it's only natural. they would hate themselves too... they... do hate themselves! it's why it feels SO good when HE'S the one winning. they can feel a sense of relief. a sense of triumphant victory over the big bad evil human who they can project their own problems on. they wished they had his courage. his dedication. his sheer WILLPOWER to face their demons too. but no. they can't just GIVE him the win can they? no he has to struggle. he has to TAKE it from them. like the disgusting trash they are!

they don't have the RIGHT to be sorry. no they chose this and they'll STICK TO IT TILL THE END. they WANT this. right? they've always wanted this. but they feel empty. so empty. so pointless. and it always ends up in a way that the world just... forgets? if it means SCARRING the world to MAKE it remember them? so be it.

if it means they'll be a villain? SO BE IT! so much being a savior of monster kind did for them anyway.

it doesn't mean they don't care. it doesn't mean they sadistically enjoy seeing dust suffer. it gives them a sense of catharsis. they don't LIKE hurting him. but they also enjoy seeing it happen so that he can PAY IT BACK TENFOLD. they feel powerful when he takes them down. wishing that maybe their problems would just... vanish.

seeing his pained expression breaks their heart but also... makes them feel more understood somehow. makes them happy. it makes the sad. it's so bittersweet. so ironically HIM. it excites them. it makes them want to cry.

it makes their numb heart FEEL something. and they're addicted to it.

they're not a monster. just a person trapped in their obsession. someone who never had their closure and was stuck in the past. someone who would not let things go even if it meant they were also the one hurting.

but they're also quite silly and goofy. making jokes and doing the randomest unpredictable bullshit possible to throw dust off.

all in all I think they're ALL of the above to some extent. the do feel guilt and shame. they do get rage baited and extremely pissed at an unfair kill. they would scream at the screen with an angry face, and would laugh their ass off if dust gives them an unexpected reaction.

they're still them. despite everything.

[doublegoblin]

Artificer Ramblings

Okay so I want to gush about Artificer a little, but seeing as I will be talking about some light theming and this is an unlock character; I'll be putting the thoughts behind a read more. So if you don't want mild spoilers for Rainworld: Downpour then don't peek dingus!

So firstly I know the Scugs don't have genders and what not, but I will be referring to Artificer as a she/her. She is a bad bitch and I love her. If you see Arti otherwise that is chill too, but she is my murder mama.

She is by far my favorite Scug to play as; gameplay wise, movement wise, and story wise!

I feel she is one of if not the strongest representation of some of the themes of the overall game (quick aside I had no idea that funny slug game would turn into more of a philosophical experience). She starts her campaign as this revenge fueled little gremlin, broken down and scarred by the experiences she has had. The game then puts an obvious path in front of you; continue the cycle, give into the cycle of violence and retribution, kill the chief, it won't bring your pups back but maybe you'll feel a little better?

The fight with the chief is like the echo states too, it is completely unfulfilling. For me I only really beat him when I just stopped caring, I had died over and over and over and I was just going through the motions. It was almost like the game let me win (his A.I. does have a big factor to how the fight goes, either a cake walk or he is a leaping demon of spears). When it was over, I didn't feel like I had accomplished anything.

Because of this I feel like Arti is also a nice parallel to Five Pebbles. He is also someone who is set in their ways, no matter who it hurts.

But

This is where the part I love come in. We have a chance to go against the path the game put forward for us. The echo in Metropolis is likely going to be the only other (or maybe the only) echo that you encounter outside of the one near FPB. Then like all echoes, your karma level is able to go above level one (or as I sometimes call it Harma).

When my partner and I were first playing we had the collective thought of, can we get this bitch to ascend? Yes.

And the narrative power of this player decision is huge! You need to go against what the character is good at, and avoid confrontations and only do what you need to to survive. Until you've seen enough echoes to get to level 5 karma your ass needs to have eaten a karma flower and hold onto that shit. All the while kill squads and everything else wants you dead. It is a god damn struggle. I wouldn't ask for anything else.

I've heard people complain that her campaign is too harsh with the Scav spawns, that there are too many enemies, that you play and hour and a half and don't make any meaningful progress. Bitch that is the point! Going against fate, or nature, or whatever, isn't easy. You are making the hard choice to not continue to be trapped, you are were the bloodshed will end.

Now I haven't actually ascended her yet, still working on it because damn it hard. But I am so looking forward to it.

A fun little tidbit I saw is that the Chief can also be aggroed by gifting him a pearl. And that is a wonderful touch.

That's it really. I'm not that versed in the lore of Rainworld but I had feelings and wanted to subject others to it.

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Hello there, my enemy Welcome to my punching spree This is where I lay waste and you go home bleeding Didn't have to be this way Should have stayed out of the fray Now you're heading for a beating

Can't wait for the pages to turn Play both sides (Play both sides) When truth you cannot recognize And any remarkable heart Has gone through the hardship and shame That’s born of standing apart From the easily processed, the uniform army of same And that’s just so lame

Usually, I devastate This time, might annihilate Any minute now, you're gonna rue our meeting Messing with my family Means that soon, you're history The moments of your life are fleeting Looking pretty tattered Your blood is really splattered Won't be long until I end this game You're looking toothless I'm feeling ruthless Watch me burn as you go down in flames

A triumphant, vindictive battle cry of a song! A victorious smackdown of a song! An insult-to-injury victory anthem of a song!

It's exciting to see this added to Feng's playlist! Gives me hope that he'll be getting his lick back!

It even keeps its upbeat peppy cocky tone when it dips into more somber topics briefly, about a hurt family, judgement scathing gazes, duplicitous double-dealings and lies... And I can't tell if in Feng's context, the mention of burning themselves out while they light their enemy ablaze is a metaphor or dangerously literal...

Aside from that, there's a real pleasure taken in the ruthlessness of the curbstomp described here! But it's also very clear that this is a fight they started, it's just a fight they're happy to finish.

That mention of family being messed with makes me wonder if the relative luck Jack's had in avoiding the worst of the dangers in the fic so far is about to run out soon...

But that "Didn't mother warn you? Now she's gonna mourn you!" Makes me hope that all three of the beans are in for a bad time.

It's supposed to be hard If it wasn't hard, everyone in the world would do it The hard is what makes it great Making mistakes is proof that you're challenged The world is yours

One step closer to the edge I'm about to wreck, so I'm Ready if you're Let's play, the game is on So bring it on You don't know me so I'll show you Now you know me I'll blow through I'm ready to take you I'm right in front of you, right in front

I know you want me dead but I'm stronger now So what you gonna do now? Get your guns and arrows, grenades and auto Prepare for a fight and bow With my sword and my shield I'm ready to reveal Right in the battlefield In the center I'll be here Keep one's eyes pealed

You win sometimes then you lose at times It's what you learn with fights I've earned my stars By the scars I've got World is yours

Slight mentions of burning out like a Phoenix in this song too...

But still, another battle song, another "I'll never back down and I've got this in the bag, your days are numbered and I'm counting down myself" song!

And against an opponent that very explicitly wants him dead and looks down on him-- and apparently had reason to in the past, if the scars and losses he mentions are anything to go by.

But not anymore. Feng's saying he's stronger and more tactical, and this grudge match can only go one way. More weapons, more strategy, more power, more confidence, at least in his perspective!

I'm certainly rooting for him to be right!

As a little for-fun way to spice up the week's in-between updates of Fragile Things, I decided to try a little something! On in-between Mondays, I'll be posting a song or two that are a part of a Playlist I made for our Masked Stranger! Will you be able to use the songs get some insight about his character? Maybe! You'll have to follow along and see! I hope you'll at least enjoy the experience!

So, to start off the Masked Stranger playlist!

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy

Hellbent by Mystery Skulls

[aemonds-sapphire]

Fire Meets Gasoline - Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Sex with Dabi rarely goes as expected, and that is exactly why you can’t get enough of him.

Warnings: NO MINORS! NSFW. Pure filth (seriously). Cumplay. Quirkplay (? Is this a thing? Basically just Dabi heating up his hands and using them on you), Cockwarming. Creampie. Vaginal fingering. Overstimulation.

Word count: 4.8k

If you had to pinpoint the exact moment when you realized there was no escaping Dabi, it would most likely be the first time he kissed you.

After a month of denying and suppressing how attracted you felt towards him, you finally caved in.

You would potentiate each other just like when fire meets gasoline. It started off as a gentle flame, but it soon increased in both size and intensity.

The young man was filled with anger and was the embodiment of pain and sadness, but you were equally as broken. He hadn’t expected you to retaliate the poison that would drip from his mouth.

What Dabi had failed to consider was that you knew exactly why he was keeping people at bay. He didn’t necessarily hate everyone. But anyone could become a threat.

So he’d rather push people away.

What he had also not considered was that fire needed oxygen to burn. And that most of the time, the walls we build around us aren’t meant to keep others out. They will just fence you in.

You could bear him being cold to you as a defense mechanism, but he couldn’t deny his fiery nature for long.

“Beautiful...”

There was something so innately blissful about having Dabi cracking his hardened surface to display this beautiful side of him.

It would have your heart fluttering and your breath coming out in shallow pants as you experienced having his vulnerability be given to you.

“So. Beautiful.” He went on, accentuating his words with gentle kisses along your jawline.

You allowed your fingers to rake across his scalp, feeling his soft hair tickle your skin.

“Do it.”

He knew exactly what you meant by that. His quirk was powerful and dangerous. You had had the opportunity of witnessing him go berserk with rage and cast his trademark blue flames around his targets. The heatwave that had hit you was surely enough to have you jolt in fear. Dabi had to live with the consequences of not being able to control himself when using his quirk. All the patchwork across his body was licking proof of that.

However, the sense of danger had adrenaline rushing through your veins, and feeling the feared villain light up his quirk just enough to warm his hands was definitely an aphrodisiac.

Dabi stopped and pulled back, beautiful turquoise eyes meeting yours. He was truly breathtaking. No scar in his body would ever be able to take away from how handsome he was.

He flashed a boyish grin at you — one that you had grown to adore — and you felt the mattress shift lightly as he positioned himself between your legs.

The sight alone was enough to send sparks rushing down your spine. Dabi took his sweet time admiring the view, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“See something you like?” You teased as you spread your legs farther apart.

He ran the palms of his hands slowly along your thighs, his eys lingering on your panties. “Pull them to the side, doll.”

You took a deep breath, knowing fully well what came next. He was too fucking good at this, and he was aware of that. Sex with him just felt like a whole new experience each time since he refused to stick to patterns. There was always something new, and that just added to the thrill.

Too bad you weren’t feeling like complying with his demands.

“Do it yourself.” You shrugged, slowly adjusting your panties to further accentuate your pussy lips.

You should know better than to challenge Dabi, but quite frankly you didn’t give a fuck, because it would just work in your favor in the end.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warned, keeping his voice calm, but his hands betraying the impatience as the grip on your knees increased. “Push them to the side... now.”

“Make me.”

Too bad Dabi wasn’t feeling like complying with your demands either.

Even though his room was poorly lit, the moonlight was more than enough to make you your jaw clench when his brought one hand to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Oh, he was fucking cruel.

Another teasing smile danced on his lips as he noticed your eyes glued to his crotch. You were too weak for this man. There was no way around it. No matter how hard you tried to prolong the mouse and cat game, you always caved.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his hand, especially when you saw it grip the growing bulge that he squeezed lightly.

“Seems like we have an issue, then, doll,” he chuckled, giving his clothed cock a few pumps. “‘Cause the way I see it... you really want this, uh?”

It took two to tango, so you tugged on the your panties once more, feeling the damp fabric rub against your clit and making you wince. You had underestimated his ability to have you dripping for him.

Your panties perfectly outlined your pussy lips, a silent invitation to the hungry man before you who wasted no time in dragging one finger along your covered slit.

“Doll...”

You flashed a devious grin while arching just slightly. “No.”

He had his other hand tightly gripping his cock, and you could see a discreet wet spot staining his sweatpants.

The scenery had you licking your lips in anticipation. “Let me see your cock, then.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You first.”

One of you would have to give up first, and there was only so much resistance you could pull off when it came to Dabi leaking precum because of you.

You hooked one finger around the lace of your underwear, painfully slowly pulling it to the side, the wetness clinging onto the fabric.

A low growl erupted from him. “Fuck.”

He pressed on your clit with his thumb just so he could hear you moan for him. It was swollen enough to be seen through your pussy lips, and that drove him crazy. The ultimate proof that you wanted him was at the tip of his fingers, quite literally.

Your eyes instinctively closed as he continued teasing you, spreading wetness along your folds. It came with no surprise that your hips would involuntarily buck against his hand.

“Dabi...”

“Look at me,” he asked, his voice visibly strained as he circled your clit back and forth with the pad of his thumb. “Open your eyes.”

You did as you were told, and, through hooded eyes, you found yourself staring at him dragging the waistband of his pants down, successfully freeing his hard cock.

He halted his ministrations at once, only to have your entire focus on him.

Just as you had imagined, a few strings of precum were dangling from the tip, and he gave his cock a few pumps just to squeeze more from him.

Dabi positioned himself closer to your pussy in order to have his precum drip directly onto your clit.

You bit back a whimper as his thumb mixed the liquid with your wetness. “Dabi... oh my—“

The word died in your throat as you felt the tip pressing against your entrance. Was he that horny to jump right into the main course?

He sighed. “I really need to fuck you.”

It was crude and it surely wouldn’t win any awards as the most romantic declaration ever, but it did win points in getting your pussy to clench as more wetness spilled from you and coated him.

He applied just enough pressure to have his tip slide inside you. “Let me fuck you... please.”

The urgency in his voice had you melting. How could anyone resist this request?

He leaned over, brushing his lips with yours, but keeping his hips in place. You threw one arm around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. You could feel both hand gripping your things, and you figured it was taking all of his willpower not to slam his cock fully inside you.

But what’s life without a bit of fun, right?

Dabi hungrily suckled on your tongue, but you felt him freeze in shock. Both his eyes shot open and he gasped.

Oh. You loved it whenever you were able to get that reaction from him.

So you did it once again.

And he shuddered.

He was panting heavily as you contracted around his tip. Despite your heavy state of out, you still had a few tricks up your sleeve.

“Fuuuuuuuck....” his voice was coming out in broken and deep breaths.

Self-control definitely wasn’t Dabi’s forte, and you knew that you were playing with fire. Literally. You suddenly felt his palms heat up against your skin as the grip on your thighs tightened.

“Let... me...” He breathed, his face dropping to the crook of your neck. “Just...”

The safest course of action would be to indulge his request, but you also wanted to help him build up the ability to control himself once he got pushed over the edge. He had even asked this of you not long ago. It was hard for him to hold back when using his quirk against heroes and even harder when facing his father. So Dabi craved to be able to do so when having sex with you.

“Reign me in...” He had once asked of you.

He started licking and taking a few bites off your neck, the warmth of his hands never wavering.

You brought on hand to his face, carefully caressing the metal rings that traced his skin.

“How badly do you want it?” You asked him, squeezing around his tip once again. In reality, you knew exactly the answer to that question. His desperation was answer enough.

But you were now treading on a dangerous territory.

His teeth dug into your skin before he let out a moan. “Let me fuck you...”

You angled your hips in order to have him slide out of you. “Tough luck, Dabi. Control yourself better.”

The grin on your face widened when a pair of angry eyes met yours, and the heat coming from his hands increased ever so slightly.

He wasn’t smiling.

Well. Fuck.

He pushed his own hips to meet yours again, but this time he had his cock placed directly between your soaked folds and rubbing up against your clit.

Your grin dropped in an instant, and a he let out a satisfied chuckle. “Not so funny now, right?”

Dabi kept on sliding his cock up and down, coating it in your juices. The wet sounds that filled your ears were enough to have you fists the bedsheets, and it served as a further incentive for him to keep on teasing you.

One hand was placed directly beside your face so he could support himself as the other went to join his cock. The heat coming from is fingers was maddening and he pinched your clit, trapping it and sending jolts of pleasure across your entire body. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you felt a heatwave reach your cheeks. It wasn’t just coming from your own body’s reacting to the stimulation, but also from his own hand.

“Where’s that pretty smile now?” He rasped, focusing on your face twisting from bliss, otherwise he might let his composure falter.

“Dabi... fuck... fuck...”

It was really taxing having to keep his quirk at bay and only allowing a certain amount of heat to flood the palms of his hands. It took a lot from him to having to exert so much self-control. It was twice as demanding having to keep his dick from plunging inside you.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Please... just...”

Not so amusing now that the tables were turned, and you gripped the sheets tighter until your knuckles turned white. You wouldn’t last much longer if he kept sliding his cock in between your pussy lips like that.

Your eyes locked with his, and your opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, but only moans spilled from you.

“Just what?”

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with the palm of his hand. The metallic hoops had heated up significantly and when he dragged a few across your clit, that was when your body reached a new high.

“Oh my — oh my fuck—“

Dabi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You looked so delicious, and he didn’t even know how he was being able to withstand the discomfort coming from his cock. He would need to be buried inside you soon. It was such a waste to have you clenching around nothing when you could be milking him instead.

But he wanted you to reach your orgasm first.

He was so used to watching things come undone out of rage, that watching you come undone from the pleasure he gave you just made his cock throb. The thrill of building you up just to have it all crumbling down in the most alluring way possible was something he could not get enough of.

Your body had started writhing and convulsing, forcing him to lean back and press one hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Good girl... that’s it...”

You had your thighs desperately wrapping around him in the hopes of him filling the emptiness.

Dabi was going insane from how responsive you were being to him. To his quirk. He had grown up forced to live with the remainders of what it had done to him. The thought of having it being used to give someone pleasure was so fucking fascinating. Yes, it was exhausting to keep it at a low intensity, but the high outweighed the exhaustion by far.

The familiar sensation built up more and more, until it washed over you in a deep wave of pleasure. A shriek ripped through your throat from your lungs, and behind closed eyes you could see colors dancing over your vision, accompanying the molten streaks of pure bliss that shot through your entire body with every flick of the metallic hoops on your clit.

Dabi couldn’t resist it any longer.

He needed to feel you.

In one swift motion, he slid his cock balls deep inside you. Your pussy welcomed him with strong and rhythmic contractions that sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He had to balance himself on both arms from the sudden overload of pleasure. It was clear he wouldn’t last long. The amount of teasing and foreplay was enough to sent him into overdrive.

Your fingers went up to grip his forearms as if holding on for dear life. Having his cock buried inside your pussy as you came made your mouth drop open. You felt your walls clamp around him viciously. He pulled one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder, spreading you enough before he started slamming against you with such force that the bed started squeaking from the motion.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn’t quite make out what it was as you descended from your peak. Your heart pounded hard against your chest, but still not as hard as he pounded your pussy.

“Stop... squeezing... fuck!”

The overstimulation hit you like a train, and you felt tears stinging your eyes. Your fingers would leave marks on his arms, but you doubted he cared about it.

“D-Dabi... I...” you tried to reign him in, but gave up when his lips crashed into yours.

He was thrusting into you with an animalistic ferocity, all sense of control finally coming to a end. You’d clench around him whenever he hit a sweet spot inside you. The moans that came from within in were so hot that you couldn’t blame your clit for pulsing and your pussy for squeezing his cock.

Suddenly, you felt one hand groping your breast, fully enjoying how it bounced and defied gravity with each snappy strike from his hips. His eyes slid shit and his mouth was hanging open in a silent hiss.

You wanted to bring him over the edge. You wanted him to give it all to you.

To prove your point, you snaked an arm between your bodies and flicked at your clit just so you could your pussy to clench harder around his cock.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Through the stings of overstimulation the need to have him come undone for you was just ecstatic.

That it for him. His eyes snapped open and the most beautiful growl rumbled in his chest.

“You are so... fuck...” Was all he managed to say before he began pumping in a final broken rhythm.

“Fill me up...”

The effect those words had on him caught you off guard.

Dabi let out a strangled moan as he buried his cock deep within you. “Oh... fuck...”

He shuddered a few times, emptying himself inside your pussy just like you had encouraged him to. You could feel a few streaks of cum coating your walls, and it almost sent you back to another orgasm.

He was panting heavily above you, cock still lodged inside you. When he looked up to your face he saw a few tears leak from your eyes due to the overwhelming overstimulation. Without thinking, he brought one thumb to wipe a clear droplet from your face.

Dabi no longer remembered how it felt like to cry without physical pain from having bloody tears spilling from where the staples held his skin together.

“Dabi?”

He shook his head and blinked twice. “Sorry...”

You didn’t want him to apologize for this. “It’s okay... don’t be sorry.”

Instead, the young man leaned forward and tasted the salty liquid that smeared your skin, wiping the tears away.

You couldn’t contain the low chuckle that erupted from you. “That tickles...”

He didn’t want to slide out of you just yet. Your warmth was too welcoming and comforting. If he had to find a name for it he’d choose home. Intimacy had been so scary to him. The vulnerability of it all had always frightened him, and for the longest time he didn’t think he would ever have this. Casual sex was good, but sex with someone you had an emotional connection with felt so much better.

Dabi let his body tumble to his side, physical exhaustion finally taking a toll on him. However, he slid one arm over your lower back to keep you tied with him.

His hair was sticking to his forehead from all the sweat, and you took some time to inspect a few strands through hazy eyes.

You gently brushed the damp hair away from his skin. “You need to dye your hair again.”

“Hmm.”

The roots of his white hair were starting to show, and even though you’d love for him to embrace his natural color, you knew this was not something for you to decide.

Some wounds took longer to heal.

His cock was starting to soften inside you, but that had no effect on him.

“Planning on sleeping like this?” You offered, but only half-joking.

His hand thoughtlessly caressed your back, and you shuddered as the metallic rings dragged along your skin. “Actually...”

Wiping a few beads of sweat from your face, you arched a brow. “What?”

A squelching sound filled the room as he slid off of you, and you couldn’t help but to pout at the sudden emptiness.

Dabi, on the other hand, seemed to have something else in mind as he got on his knees again, placing himself in between your legs.

It didn’t take long before you started feeling the warm liquid ooze from you. That definitely earned Dabi’s full attention as he watched in admiration.

“Proud of yourself?” You questioned with a gentle laughter. Just as you were about to prop yourself on both elbows, he had one hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place, as the other hovered near your pussy. “Hey! Dabi...”

“I want to do this...” he whispered, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just thinking out loud.

You had a faint idea of what he had planned next, and, if so, it would be something new for you both.

The young man hesitated for a split second before his middle finger joined the index, slowly collecting the few strings of cum that had pooled between you and the sheets. Not even five minutes had passed since your body had been sent into overdrive, and you could feel your insides twist in anticipation and you clit throb from the newfound stimulus.

Dabi paused once more.

Although, you’d been affectionate with each other for over a month now, you could still identify the remnants of his struggles with intimacy in moments like this. It had taken him quite a while to open up to you emotionally. It had taken him a great deal more to give himself to you physically as well.

You couldn’t help the loving smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Go ahead...” two of your fingers rubbed your swollen clit briefly before spreading your pussy lips invitingly.

That was all the incentive he was looking for, and in one swift mention he slide both fingers inside you, dragging his cum back inside once more.

He hissed deliciously when he felt you clamp around him. “Fuck...”

The hand keeping you down faltered, and you immediately seized the opportunity to position yourself in a way that gave you a privileged view of what he was doing to you.

“So much cum... fuck...” Dabi’s words came out in ragged pants as he fingered you slowly. “Don’t clench, doll... it will spill out again.”

“Then stop being so hot...” You half moaned, trying your best to fight against your reflexes. Your pussy was practically on auto-pilot. The obscene sounds that filled the room just made the task so much more difficult.

It didn’t take long before his turquoise eyes darkened and you watched him capture his bottom lip with his canine.

Oh fuck... he was getting hard again.

His cock was twitching ever so slightly, growing before your eager eyes.

“Dabi...” You weren’t even sure of what you wanted to say. The sight alone was enough to have your clit throbbing, but his thumb pressed on it was what had you involuntarily clamp down on his digits in a way that dragged a long groan from him. Even if he was someone who had to ability to mask his true emotions, the pleasure was splattered across his face.

You felt your pulse quicken further and shuddered from all the stimulation.

Knowing fully well you wouldn’t be able to comply with his request, he removed his fingers from inside you at once, bringing out a whine from deep within you.

A faint smile pulled at Dabi’s lips. “So responsive...”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “You’re stalling... please...”

“I’m taking my sweet time with you, doll. What’s the fun in rushing?”

His finger glistened with the mixture of your juices with his cum. Suddenly, his hands went to your ass to positioned you on his thighs. A very effective way of preventing any further leaks, no doubt.

Just as you were about to question why the sudden change in positions, he plunged one single finger back inside your pussy.

“I wonder...” he started out as if lost in contemplation while he coated his fingers once again. “Hmm...”

“Dabi...” you warned him in a low voice.

You were growing impatient. Very impatient. The heat between your legs along with your throbbing clit were driving you absolutely insane.

He was an expert in making you lose your mind, and he’d always use this to his advantage.

His cock was already growing harder and bigger with each passing second. You’d be more than willing to have one more orgasm, and considering the way you were clamping around him, and the blinding heat jolting through your clit and nipples, it wouldn’t take you too long to get there. The young man pressed your clit down with his thumb, circling it with just enough pressure to gather the most delicious moans from you.

“Good girl... you look so hot,” he encouraged, and you felt a pair of fingers spread your pussy lips. “Fuck... I wish you could see this.”

You were so close.

So damn close.

But things with Dabi had a way of rarely going according to plan, and just as you shut your eyes in anticipation for another high, the infuriating sensation of withdrawal made you whine.

“Put that back! Dabi! What the fuck?”

You were left clenching around nothing and he merely chuckled at your distress. “I don’t think I will, doll.”

Propped yourself up on your elbows. “I will end you. Fuck!”

He didn’t really care. Nor did he take you seriously. You sank back into the mattress, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed in your forehead.

“For fuck’s sake...”

You felt the bed shift beneath you as he leaned forward. “Open.”

Wait...

This was new.

Your eyes widened once you understood what he meant. His long index finger was a few inches from touching your lips, a few droplets falling onto your chin. The thick layer of both cum and your wetness covered the entire digit, and you oiled even see some wetness spread along the metal hoops carved into his skin.

Oh. That was fucking hot.

“I won’t ask again,” his demanding voice quickly snapped you out it. “Open. Your. Mouth.”

A part of you wanted to tease him and put up a front just to rule him up, but another part of you — a much more urgent and impatient one — just wanted you to let go and enjoy the ride.

The moment you parted your lips, he promptly shoved his finger inside your wet mouth, faintly teasing your tongue with it.

You suckled on it slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with him.

He hissed softly. “How does it taste?”

“You tell me.”

Acting on pure instinct, your hand went to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Dabi’s widened in sheer surprise as you darted your tongue inside his mouth, allowing him to taste the liquid. You weren’t sure if he was enjoying it, but his body language was pretty telling after a while, so you kept going.

There was something really hot about having Dabi taste his own cum directly from your mouth. Maybe next time you’d have him lap at it from your soaked pussy.

He broke the kiss to take a deep breath, thin threads of spit mixed with cum and your wetness linking both of your lips together.

You smiled teasingly. “Good, right?”

Dabi licked his lips before wiping the excess with the back of his hand. “Well played, doll.”

For a few seconds all you could hear were the ragged pants coming from both of you. You looked down and noticed that his cock was fully hard, probably getting ready for the next round.

“Want me to take care of that?” You wiggled your brows at him.

He followed your stare, but rolled over to fall flat on his back, one hand wrapping around his cock while kicking his sweatpants off.

“It’s okay, doll. I know how much you love watching me jerk off.”

Ah. Damn. He was right.

The metallic hoops provided an interesting friction whenever he applied enough pressure. Considering he had nearly half of his palms covered in a single row of staples he just had to get used to the feeling, and soon enough he had found a way to have those work in his favor.

You shifted on the bed to scoot closer to him, and have your head resting on his heaving chest. As expected, you started feeling his cum leak from your pussy.

The two of you lay there in a comfortable silence for a while, until you felt his heartbeat and breathing evening out against your ear. He was lazily pumping his cock, but it didn’t seem like he was too invested in the task at hand.

You raised your head to look at a very much sleepy Dabi.

An instant loving smile fell on your lips.

“You asleep?”

Was that a smirk on his face? Adorable. “Yes, doll.”

He looked so peaceful. You’d never get over post-sex Dabi. Ever. You had witnessed his full potential as a villain, but you were just now getting to experience firsthand what it felt like to have someone like him opening up to you.

A few more minutes passed by, and you watched as he let go of his softening cock. You took his now free hand in yours and laced your fingers with his.

“You’re changing the sheets.” You mumbled to him when you felt more liquid ooze from you. Not that you actually minded the current predicamen.

He scoffed. “Your pillow talk fucking sucks, doll.”

[tranzfalgar]

okay it’s time for some stardew valley headcanons for the bachelor/ette(s) so let’s GOOOO

Alex:

- he always awakes before his grandparents, and on warmer days he’ll go down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

- friends with elliot! the two of them sit on the side of the dock sometimes and just chat about life.

- knows how to make cookies, as evelyn taught him when he was a bit younger

- wary of the saloon, as he doesn’t really like the smell of alcohol and only goes into it if he’s forced to!

- if you marry him, he can and will pick you up randomly to surprise you while you’re working!

- if married, he will “bench press” your kids once they become toddlers, and it always makes them giggle

- hates the winter and gets cold really easily. on the first day of fall he’s already bundled up wanting it to be summer again.

Elliot:

- willy is like a father to him. the two of them sit on the docks and watch the fish swim by together

- sometimes he’ll braid his hair, and leah will bring flowers from the forest and weave them into his hair.

- has a rlly pretty singing voice, and likes to record piano covers in his spare time

- if you marry him and the two of u have kids, he’ll always braid their hair in the morning and tuck flowers behind their ears.

- he brings home fresh fish he caught and makes himself dinner every night. that’s why he’s an excellent cook.

- has actually caught a legendary fish before!

- his eyes change color, they can go from blue to green to brown in the same day. people call them the “prismatic shard of eyes”

Harvey:

- he’s so clumsy that sometimes he’ll even trip over air. due to this, he has little bruises all over his knees and elbows.

- his favorite animals are birds. sometimes he’ll go outside and just give them some bird seed. he loves watching them fly around.

- not only is he fascinated with planes, but he’s also fascinated with the weather. as a kid he used to watch the weather channel, and he dreamed of becoming a weatherman.

- when he needs to focus really hard, he’ll pull his hair back with a headband

- him and his mother were and still are very close, and he writes letters to her at least once a week

- he cannot cook to save his life, but he’s an incredible baker! will make you little treats if you’re friends or married

- he always wears a wristwatch, but the time is always 6 minutes behind. he likes it because it has a plane engraved into the side against his wrist.

Sam:

- he had adhd, and his stims include flapping his hands, tapping his foot and strumming his guitar

- he has a beautiful singing voice, think like wilbur soot but a bit more high pitched?

- the reason he likes cactus fruit so much is because he just plants them and lets them grow. he loves succulents because they don’t give him an allergic reaction!

- cannot play video games for shit. sebastian and abigail have banned him from multi-player games because he just sucks so bad.

- love language is acts of service, simply because he likes singing for people he cares about and doing little things for them!

- if you marry him, he will bring his guitar into the coop and/or barn and sing to the animals. they have learned to run over a greet him, since they love his singing.

- his hair is actually curly, but you’re unable to tell due to how much he gels and straightens his hair.

- has mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes

Sebastian:

- loves the hell out of halloween, but is scared of literally everything. he nearly cried watching a horror movie with sam and abigail.

- really good with a slingshot! so if he were to go into the mines, he would wreck some monsters shit with his slingshot skills

- he had glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, but removed them. he used to love the stars and space, but came to resent them because it was his sisters thing.

- he like…irl blushes. like an anime character. when he’s embarrassed, upset, flustered, his face will go all pink. everyone picks on him for it.

- has/had a crush on most of the towns singles. he is a bisexual disaster and secretly a romantic so….take from that what you will.

- a natural born ginger, but dyes his hair. he also has freckles on his nose! and he has an eyebrow slit because of a scar!!

- for some stupid reason, he takes really good care of his hands? like he always makes sure they don’t get calloused, and his nails are always painted black, despite using his hands all the time for work.

Shane:

- he cannot cook. he burned pasta noodles because he didn’t know you had to put water in the pan.

- he still has a chicken plushie from when he was a baby, and it still sits on his bed. and if he cuddles with it at night? no one needs to know.

- has a huge birthmark on his side shaped like a heart

- really good at mixology, so i think that when joja gets shut down, shane works at the saloon and makes the drinks while gus cooks. he adds a whole new section on the menu!

- friends with sebastian. they paint each other’s nails from time to time, or sit in the rain together and just talk.

- kinda strong as hell? he lifts boxes in joja for work, as well as carrying around jas, so i’m assuming he could just….pick the farmer and his friends up?

- he has the most contagious laugh, it used to be a rare sound, but now that it’s a pretty common occurrence, shane makes people laugh all the time with his own laugh.

Abigail:

- buff. she is buff as hell. her and alex work out together sometimes, since she expressed a desire for adventure. she has picked up sam and sebastian with no warning and thrown them into the ocean

- can talk to animals due to her being the daughter of the wizard! so sometimes she’ll go to marnies farm and just chat with the cows or something

- if she sees a tree, she WILL climb it. she loves it so much, it’s just so adrenaline inducing for her.

- her and sebastian tried to go into the mines before but sam stopped them because it wouldn’t have been very safe. they were all 14.

- trying to learn to play the ukulele with a little help from sam. it’s frustrating, but she really likes the sound of it, and she’s determined as hell.

- absolutely cracked at any and all video games he plays. mario kart? she will kick your ass. animal crossing? her island has 5 stars. pokémon? she always wins. you can’t stop her, she’s too powerful.

- she has glasses, but prefers contacts, since glasses would get in the way of her adventuring.

Emily:

- not only can she sew, but she also makes her own soaps and candles! any form of creation she adores.

- loves flowers, and has a lot of little potted ones in her room. she raises them, gives them little names and personalities, and then brings them to sandy and tells her all about each flower

- she can roller skate, and it’s her preferred method of transportation. she can do a bunch of fun tricks as well!

- has an eyebrow slit

- making cute little baskets of homemade gifts is her favorite thing to do for her friends. sometimes she’ll just leave them on their doorsteps for no reason other than she wants to!

- can SPRINT in heels. like even 6 inch heels she can just RUN and it scares everyone who sees it.

- she loves the sounds of birds chirping in the morning, and she’s able to identify the name of the bird by its chirping and calls

Haley:

- is able to perfectly crack and drink from coconuts. that’s why she loves them so much.

- has the worst sense of direction. she’s lucky she lives in a small town, or she’d get lost all the time

- the spring is her favorite time of year, simply because she loves to capture life coming back in those spring months. baby animals, blooming flowers, her friends on the beach or just chilling in the sun, all of it

- her most prized possession is the very first picture her and emily took as kids on their parents polaroid. it’s taped to her mirror

- has a little beauty mark under her lip, but it normally isn’t visible due to being covered with makeup!

- she’s able to do her own nails! this is because she is ambidextrous, yet she doesn’t know, because it’s never been brought up

- she fucking LOVES learning about and identifying plants, trees and flowers. she knows so many it’s crazy. she has a great memory.

Leah:

- resident true crime enthusiast and ghost hunter. she drags elliot with her around town to go hunting for ghosts. they also watch documentaries together!

- has a bunch of little scars on her hands from her artwork

- to get inspiration for works, she’ll go on walks at different times of the day, different seasons, different routes, and she’ll turn each walk into a work of art. depending on all the environment and those who she runs into, each piece is vastly different.

- animals love her, and will sometimes just follow her around for no reason. she doesn’t mind at all, she kinda loves it.

- friends with emily. they are currently teaching each other their own forms of art, since they love learning from each other!

- really good at dancing, she’ll dance while she’s working on projects and she’ll hum a song to herself

- her favorite statue was created after she went on a walk, ran into abigail, and the two of them went swimming in the ocean and stayed there as the sun set and the stars came out. she has a little crush on abigail.

Maru:

- her hair is ALWAYS tied up, it’s impossible for her to work if her hair is in her eyes

- when she was a kid she wanted to be an astronaut, because she loves the stars, but she found she prefers the science and math behind it all

- she pierced her own ears, she has little star earrings!

- watches cartoons and geeks out about them with penny when they meet up in town!

- for some odd reason, she is terrified of butterflies. no one who knows her, or even maru herself have ANY idea why, but she will run away if she sees one.

- her favorite memory was the one night her and sebastian stayed up really late as kids and snuck outside to look at the stars (back when sebastian still loved them) and they ended up seeing a meteor shower

- she presses flowers as a hobby, and just keeps them in a little notebook alongside her ideas for projects and gadgets.

Penny:

- while she’s cleaning her and pam’s home, she finds herself singing to herself. she has yet to be caught by anyone

- each day, her hair is done ever-so-slightly different. each morning, she likes to change it up, and sometimes jas or vincent will give her something to put in her hair

- also interested in ghosts, will occasionally join elliot and leah on their adventures

- she is naturally really warm, so she doesn’t have to bundle up as much during the winter. the kids cling to her because she’s like a human space heater

- has a bit of a geeky side, and she loves to watch cartoons a lot. when she can find the time, she always watches them. they being her lots of comfort.

- has a small scar on her side from when she tripped over as a child onto something sharp. she likes it because with two freckles, it makes a little smiley face

- loves the water and the feeling of sea wind in her hair. she secretly wants to learn to drive a boat, so she can feel that wind in her hair whenever she wants.

[istherewifiinhell]

Reading progress: chapter 300 (what the fuck)

reading highlight: this time with. so so many probably inaccurately copied quotes. forgive me. i was trying to eat my own pen. and also notebook. and also arm.

Square brackets are. when not quoting text. my own meta reactions or clarifications

280 Cheok jungyeong tries to uplift the ppl and fight outer god. I do love him.

sword saint and kyrgios. battle couple

Indescribable Distance. great name for a (baby girl) unknowable horror.

281 kdj bullshit. commence.

[often i lose track of whose taking but in this section they were focusing on jhw] "I can't let you go! don't go alone again! please! Dokja-Hyung!"

swk (looks at) his friend ABFD (looks at) his adversary CJY (gives) furious yell

oh yjh baby

live and death companions is silent

yjh spoke in a trembling voice

282 txt revision yjh is fucked up and depressed

kdj told ysa the plan in ADVANCE

indescribable distance -> Oh like the pale? (DE)

■ final chapter OR eternity. inch resting

283 sprawling chaos

SP "I don't agree with your methods but I'm curious" the kdjc story

284 SP and wenny man ominous interlude

(bunch of constellations dying in front of him) kdj picking up video game items

"For a brief second I felt my heart stop. Scarred muscles could be seen through the torn sleeves of the coat. I looked at the trajectory of the sword against the ground and emotions filled my heart."

285 middle school kdj made a yjh whisperer chart

"Son of a bitch you have to let me talk to you" classic

kdj lack understanding to 2nd level orv (ugly crying meme)[on kdj side]

4th wall trying to fry yjh brain with the greatest hits comp

286 only person who can debuff yjh? yjh. regression depression [YOUD THINK THAT WOULDNT U]

the angels are just chilling with kdj?

"He will commit terrible destruction and shall destroy the mighty and holy people" gabriel girl what the fuck

kdj literally "you dont have all the facts" the facts being? "i love him..."

gabriel has seen uriels amvs and okays it

kdj aggravates regression depression. hold his hand and tell him happy moments. you know. to torment. him.

Ethics??

288 giant baby monster. skyscraper height

angel conversational interlude -> "they were fighting and holding each others by the collar a few hours ago". welcome to dokhyuk

kdj seemed to be stroking yjh head. -> excuse me?

gabriel comparing dokhyuk to her and uriel. HELLO?

kdj making yjh eat soil. ETHICS...

289 "bear like man lhs" i stay winning

↳ kdj are u gonna cry about seeing him

knw! hi!

290 this patient is allergic to animal related stories

HDH! hi!

this is a hospital and base of operations?

mjw!

hsy... did what kdj would have done. but without yjh.

hsy... two of them

291 hsy multiplicity moments (orv doesn't work)

ppl crowd yjh like an attraction

yjh eyes became hot and his heart stuffy -> crying? anger?

yjh remembers from 4th wall. uriel doll... like a child first learning to speak "uriel"

292 hankim. dressed the same. playing mind games. socratic

lhs gives piggy back to hsy

hsy power b/c nothing is truly original + TWOS is just that bad

Damnit. I had no choice but to agree. In order for this world to be complete, Yoo Joonghyuk... Han Sooyoung stared at me. She seemed to understand what i was thinking. "You know by now, I don't need him in this world." The plagiarist, who dreamt of a world beyond the original told me "I know how to kill YJH"

293 Hsy probability based arthritis

HSY grabbing YJH chin. pulling out a cig. howd you get so cool hsy...

294. 1863 lhs is still a sad dog boy huh

knw... kdj is giving girl advice?.... no never mind hes talking about how handsome yjh is.

1863 got to read orv... and it reg deps him

295 SP really wanted 1863 to die huh?

hsy to kill yjh by sealing the earth. an eternal sleep. no dreams no waking. (to die. to sleep. No more, and by a sleep to say we end the heartbreak and 1000 natural shocks that flesh is heir to)[the final chapter... or eternity]

"It is a deception" "Some call it salvation"

defiance to yjh sponsor... always

296 YJH ORV JFC

"I watched Yjh, I heard it clearly. I was still listening [I want to live]"

kdj would see the end with these ppl and find a way back

"The world that you showed me? Does it really exist"

297 "Does the world where you live really exist?" [its the emphasis change thats killing me here]

hsy "Is it cause of this guy? Did this guy do something to your spirit? Didn't you want to die so badly? Aren't you tired? Don't you want to stop preforming scenarios?"

yjh desperate for hope hsy begging for pragmatism kdj (deluded) faith in a only win scenario

yjh agreed to become enemy of the world, lost everything -> unites the world

yjh "does it (exist)?" kdj "I didn't know if saying would be comforting to yjh. I cried out with all my might [It exists]"

kdj ready to spend 3-5 years here to win both 1863 and then return to 3rd turn. yjh wont let him

"the dazzling light filled the air with ashes, revealing a pale reality. In it yjh was walking towards a world we didn't know."

298 "Yjh escaped from being a character"

lhs beautiful bear like idiot. knew hsy was tricking them. went with it anyway

yjh "wanted to write a new story in a very sincere manner. that's the condition for the author trait"

TWOS written by? large baby?

299 yjh dead "It's no longer a novel" 4th wall activated

oh no (checks notes) Jophiel dont sacrifice yourself

J: I don't believe in you (kdj) but i have something to ask.... bruh

"Someone was left and someone was leaving. No matter what was chosen, everyone would eventually reach their end." (Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.)

lhs continues to imprint on kdj

"Even without me the 3rd round would be fine for a lone time" "How can you be so sure?" HSY stared at me suspiciously. "You are there" -> WHAT THE FUCK AFFECTIONATE KDJ HANKIM MOMENT

rotating: okay. okay. alright. where to even fucking start. small. start small. kdjs friends have even cottoned on pretty well to his bullshit. jhw in particular doesnt want him to do things alone. shouldnt you give people the choice to stand (and die) with you. than leave and die and force them to keep living alone. this is a secret tool that will help us later

im considering. the weight put on endings. ■■. the closer it is to meaning, truly, an end. the more... auspicious? and is an end a finite or infinite thing. final chapter or eternity. death or endless sleep. life or forever regression

im considering. stories. and ownership. and what does it mean to end one. rewrite one. does it change you. does it change the original story. are they gone forever. could they every truly stay. the moment you reread the story. isnt it different. kdj cant let go of 1863 by his own volition (always... volition). it meant everything to him. from middle school to 28 years of age. TWOS yjh saved him. HSY, who, in so many ways is kdj, and in so many was, is not. has no loyalty to yjh. she can make this world without him, she can write beyond it. she will put this world to bed and she will create something else. 1863 yjh has nothing. no companions, no hope, just loss. and 4th tells him the story of our 3rd turn. OF. ORV. and this is what he needs. to live and die. to leave. to try again. to person himself once more, to act and not react. possibly. killing himself, killing this story, is an act of creation too

and. speaking of yjh and being a person. we. i gotta talk about this. and im gonna try and make sense and use sentences but. i have. just. why did they have kdj caress yjh and put him in a highly suggestible state by whispering sweet (tormenting) nothings to him. what... what what what. do you think they meant by that (they meant to torment me....). With making him follow kdj very command. With making him incapable of acting *without* the command. He's an attack dog. Bodyguard. Instrument for violence. Kdj also makes him eat dirt. Kdj also tells him to go to bed (and then to sleep. He needed to be told to *sleep*). The people in the 1863 base crowd around him. They gawk. The world's enemy and most dangerous person. Docile. A toy? Hsy grabs him by the chin, inspects him. He's a thing. Kdj. In knowing everything about him. With tenderness. In an act of terrible love. To avoid having to kill him. Unmakes his person. What the ever living fuck am I supposed to do with that.

[nothingunrealistic]

also taylor philip for 20

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

“I was one word out of power,” Tuk says miserably. “One whole word between me and fifteen points.”

“Didn’t keep us from winning.” Philip steps aside to let the disgruntled freshmen of Stanford C leave first. “Great game, guys.” It wasn’t, but brutal honesty won’t help Stanford retain half-decent players once he’s graduated.

“And a buzz just out of power is still a very good buzz.” Ben unfolds their schedule and runs a finger down the page. “Back to Room 211.”

Philip takes the lead, weaving through the teams crowding the hall in the search for their next game. “That was Kate’s room. Good for us.” No getting lost, no need to travel, more familiar moderators — he almost feels bad for the schools that never get the advantages of hosting.

“Weren’t the buzzers in there the handheld kind?” Tuk says. “I hate that they don’t have their own lights. Having to look at the console to know if I buzzed first always throws me off.”

“I don’t mind them,” Ben says, “though they do sometimes make me feel like I should answer in the form of a question.”

“Anything more ergonomic than the Judge is fine by me.” Philip gets the door. “Who are we playing?”

Room 211 is nearly empty. No Kate, no spectators. The only player there sits in the third chair down from the moderator’s desk, flipping through a notebook, pen in hand; their short black hair is so disheveled he’d call it bedhead if it weren’t past noon. From behind Philip, Ben says, half a question, “Berkeley A?”

The player looks up. “Yes. Stanford B?”

“That’s us,” Philip says. The Berkeley player — he can’t settle on a more specific noun than that — nods and scribbles something in their notebook.

“Oh, no,” Tuk whispers, and Philip finds himself spun around by a tug on his arm and pulled into an impromptu team huddle.

“Something wrong?”

“I talked to some of the other teams between rounds,” Tuk begins inauspiciously. “They said all Berkeley A’s matches have been blowouts and their top scorer makes Watson look like ENIAC.”

“That’s not that high a bar, it’s a completely different game —”

“This is all speculation until stats are posted,” Ben says, “but I have heard that Berkeley A has had some… lopsided wins. And the name Taylor has come up a lot.”

“And we don’t even have a full team!”

“You’re both that worried about one guy?” Philip frees his sleeve from Tuk’s grasp and stands a little straighter. “Look. We’ve studied hard, we’ve practiced, and we’ve played well today. If we lose this one, we lose knowing we brought our best. If we win, we’ll be proud that we beat a better team and did it short-handed, and —”

“Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,” someone mumbles behind him, “and say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’”

Philip turns. It could only have been the Berkeley player, who’s put down their pen. “Excuse me?”

“I gathered from your ‘band of brothers’ spiel that playing against us is your Battle of Agincourt, so I thought I’d help out. If I’d known sooner, I would have sent a crate of tennis balls.”

Philip doesn’t believe in talking trash at tournaments, because it’s unsportsmanlike and because this is quiz bowl, not the damn NHL. But is he supposed to stand here as if this asshole isn’t insulting him completely unprompted? “Wow. That kind of deep knowledge of Henry V probably got you some great buzzes at ACF Fall.”

“I haven’t played it since 2012,” the Berkeley player says, sounding bored. “How was it this year?”

Shit.

“It was great,” Tuk says, either not catching the dig at Philip or not caring. “So much easier than this tournament. But I guess they can’t all be like that.”

“Penn Bowl is more difficult than Fall, by design,” the Berkeley player says. “Are you a freshman?”

“Sophomore.”

“So you have time. You’ll improve.”

“Thanks.” Tuk sounds genuinely touched by that bland encouragement from a near-stranger.

“Uh, where’s the rest of your team?” Ben asks. “And Kate — the moderator? If you know?”

“My teammates are lodging a protest,” the Berkeley player says. “Which I doubt will be resolved. The moderator stepped out for a break.” So all their rudeness is reserved for Philip. Fantastic.

The door flies open, and a guy in glasses and a tall girl with a ponytail burst in, mid-argument. “— I just figured since you said you play softball, maybe —”

“Past tense,” says Ponytail. “I played softball. For one season.” She takes the first chair on Berkeley A’s side.

“Hello to you, too,” Bedhead mutters, and Philip doesn’t think anyone else hears it.

“Well, excuse me for being open-minded.” Glasses drops his backpack and throws himself down between his teammates. “I’m guessing you guys are from Stanford.”

“The B-team,” Tuk says, straightening his STANFORD sweatshirt. “Oh, hey —”

“Looks like I’m fashionably late,” says Kate from the doorway. “Sorry to keep you all waiting.”

“Wasn’t that long a wait.” And she’s dressed sharply enough to qualify as fashionably late, as well as to make both teams look like slobs. How she has the time and energy for this as a 3L, Philip really can’t imagine. He and his teammates take their seats while she gets settled at the moderator’s desk.

“Round 7… Stanford B and Berkeley A?” Nods and yeses all around the table. “Full disclosure, I’m a Stanford student. And I read for these guys a few rounds ago. Berkeley A, are you waiting for anyone?”

“No,” Bedhead says. No surprise that their top scorer’s performance is inflated if they’re playing shorthanded too.

“Good. Let’s do buzzer checks.”

“I’ll start.” Philip buzzes in and watches the console. Green light. “Philip.” Kate knows every Stanford player by name, of course, but introductions benefit the other team as well. They should know who’s aiming the longbows at them.

Buzz. “Ben.”

Buzz. “Tuk. T-U-K, no C.”

“Alright. Berkeley A?”

Ponytail buzzes. “Rian, with an I. Like Rian Dawson.”

“Nobody knows who that is,” Glasses says. “At least say Rian Johnson.”

“No. Looper sucked.”

“Whatever.” Buzz. “Winston.”

“You must get all the 1984 tossups,” Tuk says.

“No way. I refuse to read that book. Even in high school —”

“Let’s cut down on the chatter, please,” Kate says, but Philip needs a moment more, because if that’s Berkeley A’s whole roster and there’s only one introduction left to make — “Player three?”

Buzz.

“Taylor.”

Shit.

(send me a ship and a prompt and i’ll write a mini fic)