#looking the way i do and if i try to defend myself ill just be punished

[light-wrath-paradise]

Do you know that feel when you need to clean a lot of shit but you are paralysed by fear so you just sit there and continue being anxious and telling yourself to clean? Yeah.

[29121996]

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[beloveds-embrace]

I'm sorry, but I'm a big angst lover and i just read the angsty spinoffs of the duchess au. Kinda combining the general Jonny-purposefully-fucks-up-the-food, and the duchess gettin sick Can i ask what would happen if the illness wasn't from the weather but from eating raw food (ex chicken). Assuming she lives, i doubt she will touch Johnny's food again - leaving price with the option of hiring duchess reader a new chef or letting her starve and hope she relents. Anyways, i just wanted to say i love your poly 141 fics, so if you don't feel like writing this ask, it's completely fine. Thank you for all your work in writing!

Thank you sm anon!! 💕🫶🏻

Dukedom masterlist

All I can think about is the abysmal shame Johnny would be feeling. Yes, he served you bad food on purpose but fuck- flat out raw? And in that time period it might as well nearly be a death sentence on its own and they all know it.

John sits at your bedside, his face carved with an unreadable expression. Guilt flickers in his eyes, barely veiled by his usual stoicism, though he says nothing at first. He’s been here for hours, watching over you, but you’ve hardly acknowledged him.

A tray of food rests untouched on the small table near the bed. You haven’t looked at it, haven’t even turned your head in its direction even when it was brought in steaming, and the silence stretches thin and sharp between you.

“Duchess,” John finally says, his voice a low sigh. “You’ve got to eat. You won’t recover if you don’t.”

You shift your gaze to him, dull and tired. For a long moment, you just stare, your chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing. When you finally speak, your voice is hoarse, almost as numb as you feel.

“I’m not eating anything from Johnny.”

The bluntness of your words lands like a physical blow. John straightens slightly, brows furrowing.

“You don’t mean that,” he starts, his tone more defensive than he intends. “He-“

You interrupt him, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“He served me raw food, John. And none of you noticed. None of you cared.” Your tone is flat, devoid of anger or venom, but it’s the emptiness behind it that makes his chest tighten. “I got sick because of him, and not one of you thought to check on me until I couldn’t get out of bed.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to defend, but the words die before they reach his tongue. Because you’re right, of course.

“I won’t eat anything from him, not anymore,” you repeat, your gaze falling away from him and back to the ceiling. “Or from the chefs in this manor. I don’t trust any of you to care enough to make sure I’m not poisoned again.”

“Poisoned- ?” John recoils slightly, faltering.

You let out a bitter, hollow laugh, the sound scraping against your raw throat painfully. “What else would you call it? Carelessness? Neglect?”

The silence that follows is suffocating, just as you’d hoped it’d be. John leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw, guilt now a tangible weight pressing down on him. He knows you’re justified- knows that your trust, fragile as it was, has been shattered by their collective apathy.

“I’ll… I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he mutters eventually, the words heavy with shame. “I’ll handle your meals myself if that’s what it takes.”

You don’t respond beyond a derisive huff, don’t even spare him a glance. You’re too tired. His promises feel like empty air now, incapable of undoing the hurt and mistrust that has settled deep in your bones and now landed you sick in this cold bed.

All you can do is close your eyes, shutting him out, and hope he gets the message.

Johnny stands just outside the cracked door, his back pressed against the wall as your words seep into the hallway like a cold wind. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop- at least, that’s what he tells himself- but when he heard John’s voice through the door, something made him pause.

And now he wishes he hadn’t.

Every word cuts deeper than he thought possible. The way you said his name- not with anger, but with the hollow finality of someone who has already given up- makes his stomach churn. You don’t trust him.

He can’t even blame you. He made- a terrible mistake. An unforgivable one. His parents would likely never forgive him if they ever heard of what he’d done.

His hands tremble at his sides, fingers curling into fists. He wants to step in, to apologize, to defend himself, to say it was a mistake- a terrible mistake he regrets more than anything. But what could he possibly say to undo the damage? Nothing.

The knot of guilt in his chest tightens as he hears John try to reassure you, his own voice betraying his shame. Johnny doesn’t wait to hear more. He turns and walks away, each step feeling heavier than the last, his heart pounding with the weight of what he’s done.

How is he meant to ever find pride again in what he does best?

[ambitiouspotions]

BABY DAZE | MICHAEL BERZATTO | ONESHOT

summary — regretting the shotgun wedding, caring for a five-month-old baby, and wondering why your husband likes painkillers more than you

word count — 4.4k

warnings — addiction, angst, talk of recovery and na meetings, arguing, slightly religious connotations, drug/alcohol usage, stress from motherhood, mom guilt, mature language

author's note — i told myself not to write mikey again so soon, but look at me…also i channel some of my family (sicilian american) when i write these

“fak, come on man, you can't put together a damn crib? you gotta get me out of this hole i’m in,” mikey looked at the stray pieces of wood on the floor, screws in a pile, and neil fak’s unorganized toolbox. the instruction booklet was opened and slightly crumpled from the number of times fak had referenced the pages.

fak’s face was slightly distorted as he looked at the pieces and then back to the instructions. “man, look, i don't know what you want me to do this shit is all kinds of fucked.” the handyman simply could not understand why baby furniture had so many pieces and so many varying sizes. if it was so safe, why was the company recommending it all to be put together with a single allen wrench? there was no way he was only using that stupid allen wrench, not for baby berzatto anyway.

mikey was running his hands over his face and to his bangs that were falling, gripping the ends of his hair tightly. he had promised you the nursery furniture would be completed by the time you arrived home after work. he already had the majority of the room completed without you knowing, moving and organizing the junk he had piled into the spare bedroom as if it were a storage unit. the baby shower had only caused the room to be more cluttered, and on top of the clients, you were trying to fit in for their appointments before going on maternity leave, which meant you never had enough time in the day to organize it yourself. the stress of disorganization and ill preparation led to you biting your nails and peeling the skin away from your fingertips routinely. mikey noticed this and now had the perfect excuse to get the nursery finished and elevate your mood at the same time.

“what’d you do this time anyway?” fak questioned as he propped one board of the crib against the wall and rummaged through his varying sizes of drill bits.

mikey didn't want to admit to fak that he was unwilling to defend you in front of his mother, donna, at a family lunch when she had mumbled something along the lines of ‘your child is still a bastard.’ it was unneeded, unkind, and simply unprovoked after you had put on your nicest attitude to agree to have lunch with her and mikey in the first place.

you both already made the mistake. there was no coming back from that fuck up, so why keep dwelling on it? that was the understanding by the rest of the family anyway, but donna wouldn't ever drop it.

“fak, you fucker, i’d love to know,” mikey held the opposite end as fak skimmed the directions again to install the railing. he didn't need to be told he was in the wrong again, best to just skip that shitty conversation altogether.

“they say the first seven months of marriage are always the hardest,” fak tried to console mikey as he began using the drill. mikey was doubtful the moment fak tried to say anything about marriage, especially coming from a single man. mikey, himself, wouldn't have any pleasant advice to give anyone either because his marriage, more like hasty elopement, was only six months old with a wife who was eight months pregnant. any idiot could do the math on why this marriage was legitimized.

“seven years, the first seven years,” mikey corrected him with a groan of annoyance. “i appreciate you doing this though; my back’s been killin’ me.”

another factor of stress added to the plate, almost two years ago, would mark the anniversary of mikey slipping in the flooding bathroom of the beef so violently that he now had permanent hardware in his spine. along with the surgery came the pain and the way to manage pain—opioids. that was a sick joke. one second, he’s slipping on the tile and slamming into the porcelain commode, and the next, he was relying on drugs to get him through a stressful day.

he didn't know if his back still hurt or if he was accustomed to saying it to convince himself that it was enough of a reason to get high. that was the sad part, mikey was popping pills and you barely had any time to notice because you were always asleep before he took a little something to take the edge off. he didn't need you to have another thing to worry about, so sneakily would replace the pills he took and leave the prescription bottle in the same place. you had no reason to question him because the allergy medication you received from the walk-in clinic almost a year ago sat on that same shelf, and you never bothered to clean it out. he was covering his tracks well; why would you ever notice anyway? especially if he was so good at hiding it?

“it's no big deal, happy wife, happy life,” fak rhymed, adjusting his leveling tool against the boards before drilling them together.

the moment the tattooed handyman was able to support the crib by himself, mikey began working on the other projects to make the room more cozy.

fak made himself scarce once it was close to your arrival time. he was going to let mikey take all of your good graces on the updated nursery.

“look at that panica,” mikey greeted, affectionately rubbing your oversized belly the moment you walked through the door. his fingers slipped under your bag and dragged it off your shoulder, setting it on the counter beside him.

you eyed him skeptically wondering where his gentleness was stemming from. he had given you dull responses, impersonal kisses, and compliments, just enough to keep you quiet before you shut the door to leave. his pre-sleep painkiller always caused a morning annoyance when he awoke, but you always chalked his bad attitude up to stress rather than thinking he was abusing any type of drug. it was mikey; he had a lot on the line, stress was his middle name, annoyance ran through his veins. he was a berzatto; of course, he had to have some form of mental illness genetically passed down to him.

“what? i can't love on my two babies?” he asked, pulling you closer to place a kiss on your temple.

“what did you do?” you asked, holding each side of his face, trying to find an inkling of his true intentions. it was teasing in a way, but knew he must've had a plan up his sleeve.

“i'm so glad you asked; close those pretty eyes for me,” he chuckled. the singular lift of the corner of his mouth was always enough to make you melt.

mikey led you blindly to the spare bedroom that had been transformed into a nursery, too bad your crumby landlord wouldn't allow the wall color to be changed or mikey would've had that swatch of fern canopy behr from the local home depot on all four walls.

“alright,” he said, clasping his hands together. when you opened your eyes, you couldn't withhold the emotions that had been pent up for so long. you were staring at the crib like it was a winning lottery ticket. the sheets were made, the embroidered baby blanket natalie and pete had gifted you was draped over the edge, the bear stuffed animals were in the corner of the crib as if they were having their own meeting, and the mattress was at the perfect height for a newborn.

the changing table was assembled, and even with one of the drawers being slightly crooked, it was perfect. it was everything you wanted for your baby. it was safe, cozy, organized, and most importantly, it was something you wanted.

mikey had gone beyond your expectations. he had promised the furniture would be put together, but he gave you more than that. he gave you hope. he gave you a reason to relax. he gave you solace in knowing that although you had an unplanned pregnancy, wedding ceremony at the courthouse, and chaotic reception at the beef you could lean on him for support.

“hey, don't cry,” mikey began rubbing your lower back as you reached over the crib to caress one of the teddy bears.

“i’m sorry…this is just really beautiful,” you sniffled, taking the bear into your arms and hugging it tightly.

“would it make you feel better if i said i got you those apple pie egg rolls?” he smirked when you turned around. your gaze had softened more, more tears falling down your eyes with the most genuine type of comfort.

“you got me egg rolls?” you couldn't help but question him in the sweetest disbelief. the tone in your voice was cracking as you leaned into his chest. mikey berzatto was out of the hole he placed himself in just a few days prior.

you were in survival mode and so was mikey. it was nearing the end of your eighth week out of ten from maternity leave at the salon and mikey had barely any time off from his responsibilities at the restaurant. he was trying to split his time as much as possible, but unfortunately, an understaffed restaurant meant he had to be gone more than he liked.

everyone said once the baby arrived, your life would never slow down, and they were right. gabriel michael berzatto was a healthy, gentle, and happy baby, the one people didn't mind stopping to look at in the stroller as you walked past. he was a miniature mikey if anything with his dark hair, crooked smile, and wide nose.

“is your back hurting that bad?” the question hit his ear like a ton of bricks. “i don't think you can drink on those,” you added, picking up the paper plates from dinner.

“what?” mikey asked, pushing his beer on the coffee table that had already suffered enough of mikey's abuse from not using a coaster.

“your back,” you repeated, looking at him from the kitchen. “i didn't even know you took those things still. i thought they were expired,” that's when mikey realized what he had done. he left the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. a mistake he never thought he would make had been done. by the time you went to sleep, he was in a comfortable state of high, and you were none the wiser. then halfway through prep at the beef, he’d take another little pill, and if he was having a particularly shitty day, then again when he went for a smoke break. he seemed to have a lot of shitty days at the beef because everything was falling apart and everything always seems to go wrong. and who knows maybe the days weren’t that bad, but sometimes it just seemed like too long to wait until you were about to go to bed.

“yeah, hurtin’ pretty bad,” he lied, sitting uncomfortably in his recliner now. “opened this thing without thinkin’,” he was looking at the amber-colored glass of the freshly opened beer.

“didn’t even know you needed them anymore,” you confessed, folding the throw blanket that had been discarded on the floor when you rose from the sofa after nursing gabriel to sleep.

“sometimes, you know that permanent hardware gets pretty damn stiff when the weather changes,” he explained, wiping his hands on his boxers.

“maybe you need to go back to the orthopedist,” you suggested casually, though you were skeptical of his body language. he was tense and unrelaxed, more than he was before you voiced your concern about his well-being.

“you’re right, just need’a find the time,” he agreed, scratching his grown-out beard that seemed to become more unkempt as the days quickly turned into weeks. it was one of the many tasks that got slid to the back burner because the priorities were set on becoming accustomed to demanding needs from the newest member of the family.

“got that big bottle of arthritis tylenol from the costco if you want to take that instead,” you offered, feeling uneasy about the fact that mikey was taking painkillers, painkillers you knew were two years old, though in actuality they were bought from a regular customer at the beginning of the week when mikey went to the restaurant to “check on the gas line.”

“yeah, thanks, baby,” he nodded, clearing his throat. he could tell you weren't convinced, but at the same time, neither of you had the energy to overthink or argue.

gabriel started to cry from the other room, mikey was the first one to move. he was quick with his attentiveness to his knowing he had an easy way to escape the conversation.

“i got this one,” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he slipped past you to enter the nursery. that was the end of that for a while, though it plagued your mind frequently. you started counting the pills in the bottle and it never seemed to lessen. it hadn't become misplaced again after asking him about it. you couldn't prove that he was using unless you were going solely based on your gut instinct.

you were as guilty as mikey. mikey was blatantly lying to you and you were enabling him because you were choosing not to confront him about it. you didn't want to admit to yourself that your husband was abusing painkillers because if you did that meant that your life would already be more stressful than it already was.

it was all making sense now. irritably, mood swings, aversion, questionable decisions, not because he had gotten you knocked up, not because he had to marry you, not because the bills were stacking up, not because he said his family was bothering him, but because he was popping pills.

it was hard some days because you were still figuring out the new aspects of parenting, but a natural and oddly comforting instinct took over you. although you and mikey were able to take care of gabriel and still manage your busy schedules you had an overwhelming amount of dread and guilt hanging over your head. were you doing anything right?

you hadn't known how much weight you were pulling until tonight. five months of night feedings, pumping, juggling schedules, daycare pickups, pediatrician checkups, washing bottles, pump parts, and an excessive amount of laundry which was clean, but piled skillfully on the living room sofa, but you did it because you convinced yourself that mikey was simply too busy to take on all the tasks you were tackling. you believed you had to be the sole provider for gabriel because mikey was the business owner. he was the one that had his valuable time placed on his restaurant, so you refused to mention that you might have needed help.

it was making you have doubts about your marriage. the marriage you consented to because you thought it would make both of your lives more stable and make you more reassured that mikey was going to stick around for you and the baby. the marriage that seemed to put your parents at ease knowing they could pray for the sins of lust and greed that caused an unplanned child. the marriage that at first seemed right, but now felt like a one-sided partnership because you were being stubborn and mikey was being ignorant.

everything seemed to be going wrong tonight (gabriel was fussy the moment you tried to put him down, you wasted eight ounces of fresh breast milk because you didn't seal the bag all the way when putting it in the freezer, and you were on your third shirt change of the night) and mikey was sitting in his recliner drinking a beer. the condensation was beading off the glass bottle and dripping onto his worn spiraled notebook where he kept his business dealings for the beef contained. you were struggling and he was drinking a damn beer.

“mikey,” you finally made him look up, smudges of ink from his pen were on the underside of his hand. “take the baby please,” you said, handing off the teary-eyed baby to your husband who couldn't seem less interested. you were covered in spit-up, from your shirt to your hair because gabriel accidentally grabbed a good chunk of it when he moved his dirty hand. mikey didn't seem present though he was sitting in front of you, loosely cradling his son.

“are you high?” you didn't know why you sounded surprised when you asked that question. you had been avoiding ever talking about that night three months prior. you practically snatched gabriel out of his arms which only made mikey defensive in trying to take him back. “oh my fucking god,” you muttered taking a step back from him.

“come on, i got ‘em,” mikey flicked the condensation that was still present on his hand from the beer, he rose from his resting place on the recliner. he was trying to avoid your line of questioning.

“no, what the hell is wrong with you?” you were placing entirely too much blame on mikey because you were overwhelmed and overworked, well, had been overwhelmed and overworked for months. your anxiety and frustration were spilling over the overfilled glass it had been stuffed into.

“hey, hey,” he warned, noticing your voice had raised sharply when he went to reach for gabriel. “chill out, mammina.” wrong choice of words.

“chill out? you want me to chill out? you're the one sitting on your ass getting high when i've been running around all evening with my head cut off.” you were trying to keep your tone light after your increase in volume had spooked gabriel.

“i didn't mean it like that, dammit, hand me gabe,” he sighed, though when he went to reach for the baby again you shielded gabriel from being taken out of your arms.

“you're bein' ridiculous,” mikey scoffed, following behind you. his inebriated state was affecting his ability to understand why he wouldn’t or maybe shouldn’t be holding his infant.

“and you're high,” you retorted, walking to the bathroom. “can’t even change my shirt because—” you unskillfully managed to open the cap and dump the oxycontin onto the counter. gabriel in your arms none the wiser to the situation. you counted them four times before even looking at him. you had to be sure that you weren’t going mad because the same amount was in the pill bottle as you had counted many times before.

“mammina—”

“where are you getting them?” you interjected, tossing the empty bottle at his chest.

“mammina, give me the baby and go change your shirt,” he insisted, as if you were so easily going to give up the little boy in your arms.

“michael, i am not fucking stupid and you know that. so where the fuck are you getting them?”

“why's it matter where i'm gettin’ ‘em from?”

he had a point; you didn't quite know why it mattered. you knew he'd find a way to continue taking them like he was already doing.

there was a long moment of silence, yet it was saying more than words could. pain, hurt, frustration, uncertainty, and fear were seasoning the bottom of the cast iron pot, and a thick helping of despair was poured over the top. the back of the metal spoon that was used to stir the clusterfuck let everything mingle, and then it had to bake in the oven at 425° until that shit was burnt and stinking up the entire apartment. oh, and then you had to eat that garbage. it was inedible, but you had to choke it down because that was what was happening. you helped enable that mess, and now you, as well as mikey, had to take responsibility for it.

“how long…how fuckin’ long have you been takin’ them?” your nose was buried in the crook of gabriel's neck. your voice was barely above a whisper.

“i dunno,” he wet his upper lip with his tongue, dragging his hand over his face. he couldn't admit that to you right now. that would break you. it would break you knowing you were oblivious for years. he could tell it was already eating you alive that you didn’t confront him properly just a few months ago. you had a general time frame when you thought he started abusing painkillers, but mikey was the only man that knew when his issue truly began.

“you gotta know…” you pleaded softly. your tears were finally falling. you didn't know how they were contained before. gabriel's tiny hand was pulling at the top of your shirt to whine for his nightly feeding. you looked so vulnerable leaning against the bathroom counter, pulling down one side of your shirt and unclasping your nursing bra, allowing your son to nurse. that was life now, having someone that meant more to you than anything else because even if your husband was abusing opioids you had a son that was helpless without you. the world could be ending, but your responsibility would never be focused on anything else except your child. what were you supposed to do in this situation? keep gabriel safe before things get too out of control. that was the answer.

you didn't resent mikey or hate him. he was helpless much like gabriel. though he had unintentionally gotten himself addicted to opioids because of the exploding toilet from the beef, it wasn't his fault. he was caught in a vicious cycle that needed professional help; help you couldn't provide for him.

you couldn't do it on your own either, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. you couldn't leave him because he was the person that you could lean on when you needed him. he was the man that forced marcus to learn how to make apple pie egg rolls so he wouldn't have to keep buying them from the bakery across from the beef. he was the man that sat behind you as you labored because he knew you felt better when he had his chin on your shoulder; he talked you through the entire thing and you couldn't be upset about it because every word he said comforted you and encouraged you. you could let him lean on you when he needed you most as long as it met that gabriel was safe.

“listen to me,” your voice cracked. “i don't know what to do, but i'm going to figure it out.” you managed to loosen one of your arms from gabriel. you wiped under your eyes. a painful and staggered exhale left your lungs. “ i won't be able to do this forever if you don't try to get sober, and it's not because of me, it's because of gabriel. he doesn't deserve this.”

“i know,” mikey said, reaching his hand out to caress his son's wispy black hair. you knew he wasn't going to take him. mikey needed comfort and gabriel was an easy little one to be comforted by. he was small and innocent. he loved his parents unconditionally because he didn't know the horrors of the world. he was being cradled in the bathroom unaware of anything that had occurred. he was blissfully ignorant. he was protected because he wasn't mature enough to understand the complex emotion that was surging through the apartment.

“i know you're going to have bad days. i know that you're going to relapse, and i know that this can't be fixed in a week, but damn, you have to try or i'm going to leave with gabriel.”

mikey leaned his forehead on yours. a quiet and consoling agreement that he would try his best. he couldn't ruin this with you. he made enough stupid mistakes with you in high school. he was supposed to be apologizing for those times now when he truly cared for you. he didn't reconnect with you later in life to keep being stupid, okay—maybe forgetting the condom a couple of months before your marriage was stupid, but the point was he wants to make things right.

the rest of the night was painful. you stayed up watching mikey sleep off his latest dose on the recliner and studying gabriel's small figure on the baby monitor. tonight seemed like the night that needed some silence even if it wasn't followed with peace.

mikey had taken your consideration of being sober seriously. he knew you were never one to back down from your word, and that ultimatum made him scared. scared enough to try and get his bearings in order, leave the beef to richie before he was past the point of no return. he was going to attend the narcotics anonymous meetings you had found online because they could allow him to find more resources to aid him. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, hell, he was living through the hardest part, wanting more—another dose—before he even got in the car with you to attend the meeting.

he didn't want to be the dad that wasn't around. he gets sober or you leave with gabriel that was the deal. he couldn't stop this alone but that was the most difficult part—admitting he needed help. he couldn't keep fighting with himself, ignoring his fatherly duties, and he couldn't keep hurting you. he knew he wasn't acting like himself and he saw it most when you gave him that sad smile where your eyes wouldn't crinkle at the edges and your cheeks would barely rise. he knew he had to make a change.

“we'll be waiting for you because we love you,” you whispered in his ear. mikey had his nose buried in the side of your cheek, withholding the tears he so badly wanted to release. mikey was holding the railing to the steps of the church so tightly. his other hand was resting on gabriel's back. he was scared to let go. he knew he had to confront what had been haunting him. it wasn't just a back injury anymore it transpired well past that. it was beyond physical pain. it was an addiction. a festering, evil addiction that constantly gnawed at his entire body.

“i love you too,” he cleared his throat harshly, knowing if he said anything else he would break down. he wanted to do better. he wanted to be better. he needed to do better for the sake of keeping everything he loved.

[wolfwarrior142]

As someone who relates to Rayla on a ton of personal/internal stuff and has actually seen some improvement in my own massive self confidence issues as a result of seeing her try to work through hers (both in this season and previously) and work on trusting people better, I hate that people are saying that bullshit. Oh no, characters who appear strong because of unhealthy coping mechanisms they've learned now learning how to develop more healthy ones. While also becoming close with those around them as a result. Oh no. The humanity. It's so awful to see. Especially in a show that's technically a kids show. And can maybe help kids. The humanity.

I'm glad I haven't actually seen anyone say that personally, cuz thats a very toxic mindset for people to have and I'd get so...annoyed with it. I'd block em immediately for sure cuz no one needs that bullshit.

people watching rayla learning how to trust / let other people help her, which a lack of was her entire fucking problem in arc 1: is this a bad character arc

[dr5amatic]

IN THE ASHES ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel an ember in the ashes by sabaa tahir. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

why do keep disappearing when i need you?

i wasn't spying.

what you saw is dangerous. you can't tell anyone about it. not ever.

keep your secrets close, love.

i'm not working for them.

don't be afraid [name], i won't let anything happen to you.

what are you doing down here?

much as i hate to admit it, you're not usually wrong.

the field of battle is my temple.

the dance of death is my prayer.

the killing blow is my release.

aren't you a pretty one.

who trained you?

keep it safe for me just until i come back.

unless you're stupider than you look, even you can see how this appears.

you worked hard. you did everything right.

go, [name]. go get some air. i'll handle this.

the ghosts of our misdeeds seek vengeance, but the cost will be high.

you are an ember in the ashes, [name]. you will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. you cannot change it. you cannot stop it.

we don't abandon our own!

who do you want me to spy on?

shadows will bloom in your heart and you will become everything you hate.

so my choices are either to stay and be evil or run and be evil. wonderful.

they always underestimate me.

this isn't a mission for the fainthearted.

go away. you're not real.

you're distracted when you can ill afford to be.

if you want to win this, you need to wake up.

i've already wasted too much time cleaning up your messes.

lay low. don't risk spying until you're certain you won't get caught.

fail me again, and we're done.

these are my friends, my family. people i know. i wouldn't hurt them.

how do i make it stop? i have to make it stop.

until you conquer your fear, the dead will remain with you.

i won't kill you. i swear it. by blood and bone, i swear it.

you're going to be fine. i'm going to fix you right up.

fight, [name]. you have to fight. you have to win.

death before tyranny.

if what you say is true, then the balance is upset, and we must restore it.

you look terrible. come into the shade.

you really should run. you’re just going to die.

wait, you idiot! it might be a trap!

i won’t let you fall, i promise.

i want you to know that i think what you’re doing is brave. really brave.

it’s not a stupid idea, just dangerous. i don’t want you getting hurt.

you’re trying to sneak out.

i wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

i live with my sins everyday. i live with the guilt.

i’ve never asked you for anything. i’m asking you now.

you think i can’t defend myself? you think i need bodyguards?

i’ve been distracted worrying about you.

i’ll kill him for this.

don’t talk. just keep quiet and… let me think.

you’re in love with me! but i'm not in love with you, and you hate me for it. you’ve let that ruin our friendship.

i could never be in love with you.

you have no idea what I’ve given up for you, the deal i made. 

who did this?

look at you–look what they’ve done to you.

you don’t have to be brave.

do you have what i want?

i have something, but i need more time.

if you have nothing, then this mission is a failure.

don’t have time for that. I’ve got other things on my mind.

if i wanted to hurt you, i’d already have done it.

as long as there is life, there is hope.

either way, you’d have blamed yourself.

either way, people you cared about would have suffered.

i should have stayed, even if it meant dying.

they won’t let you have compassion or kindness. they won’t let you have a soul.

my soul’s gone. I killed it dead on that battlefield.

there are two kinds of guilt. the kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. 

you have a soul. it’s damaged, but it’s there. don’t let them take it from you.

you don’t need to be so cat-footed. i’m not armed.

you’re surprised? you’re naïve, is what you are. you’re a fool.

you’re sick. don’t you have any regret? any remorse?

i’ll celebrate them. i’ll mourn them. but i won’t regret what i did. i did it for the empire. i did it for my people.

don’t make vows when you can’t know their cost.

i crossed a line, and i won’t cross it again.

do you know what i do to spies?

be strong. if you don’t win this, everything is lost.

i will be your blood shrike, your second-in-command, the sword that executes at your will, until death. i swear it.

in the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms.

there is nothing of me that is worth anything.

tell me, or i slit your throat here and now.

you’ll pay for this. i swear it to the skies, to the stars. you’ll pay.

just because he’s a good leader doesn’t mean he’s a good person. he lied to you.

for the first time since i can remember, i don’t feel alone. because of you.

i can’t–i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve tried not to. i tried to push you out.

i’ll take care of everything. i promise.

the moment i knew you existed, i hated you.

if i feel regret, it’s that i wasn’t willing to die sooner.

i’d rather die than live with no mercy, no honor, no soul.

fear is only your enemy if you allow it to be.

too much fear an you’re paralyzed. too little fear and you’re arrogant.

i’ll watch your back if you watch mine. we can make it if we stick together.

[joaosnovia]

day 2 or 3 (pls lmk which) of sending joao reqs daily ::

WHAT IF you do one where joao is like kinda down at practice and he's not as energetic as usual and basically kinda being sleepy and sluggish ykyk

but then as SOON as he spots reader in the stands, my bro gets a sudden burst of energy from idk where like he is RUNNING at lighting speed, SCORING goals, etc...

so like everyone (teammates, coaches, etc..) are confused bc he was sluggish asl like two secs ago. then they look around and see that he disappeared off the pitch and is standing by the stands yapping to reader like tryna impress her and stuff yk?

up to you if they're together or if they're like crushing on each other?? idk yeah i trust you with it !! this was kinda shit but i took inspo from one of my joao c.ai bots

❦ - sorte.

warnings:: none.

writers notes:: ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR ME BECAUSE IVE ACTUALLY BRANG MYSELF AROUND TO FORMAT THESE MOTHERFUCKERS AND ILL POST THEM IN ORDER 💔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it was another typical practice day, but something felt off. joão, usually full of energy and enthusiasm, was dragging his feet across the field. his usual charisma was nowhere to be found, and today, his drills were slow, almost sluggish. he yawned halfway through a pass, barely making it to the next marker. the energy around him seemed to dim as his teammates exchanged confused glances.

‘what’s up with him?’ one of them muttered, watching joão drag his feet. ‘he’s barely moving out there today.’

‘don’t know,’ another teammate replied, watching him half-heartedly chase after the ball. ‘maybe he’s tired. he’s been a bit off lately.’

coach watched from the sidelines, brow furrowed. he called out to joão, but his voice seemed lost in the haze of exhaustion that hung over him. joão gave a half hearted wave, signaling that he was okay, but it was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t.

just as coach was about to pull him aside for a quick chat, joão did something unexpected. his eyes shifted upwards, scanning the stands, and that’s when he saw you.

you were sitting there, casually leaning against the rail, watching the practice with a calm smile on your face. it was the way the sunlight hit your hair that made him freeze for a moment, as if everything around him stopped. suddenly, his exhaustion disappeared, replaced by a jolt of energy he hadn’t felt all day.

without even realizing it, he stood up straighter, his body vibrating with a sudden surge of energy. his tired movements were replaced by fluid, fast steps. the sluggishness was gone in an instant, as if someone had flicked a switch in his mind. his teammates stared in confusion as joão's speed picked up. he was sprinting down the field, dodging defenders left and right, his footwork impeccable.

‘wait, was that joão?’ one of the teammates asked, eyes wide as they watched him move at lightning speed. ‘wasn’t he just… completely out of it a second ago?’

in mere seconds, joão was at the goal, weaving around the goalkeeper with ease. he sent the ball flying into the back of the net, and the entire team froze in awe.

‘what just happened?’ another teammate muttered. ‘he was practically half-asleep a minute ago, and now he’s playing like this?’

but joão didn’t seem to care about the confusion. he was too focused on the one thing that mattered, you. with a grin on his face, he jogged towards the sideline, leaving his teammates in disbelief. they were still standing there, watching him with their jaws dropped as he sprinted off the pitch.

the coach called after him, but joão wasn’t listening. he was already making his way to the stands, jogging over to where you were sitting. his heart was racing in a way that had nothing to do with the sprint he’d just made. when he reached the rail, he leaned over, grinning like a schoolboy.

‘hey,’ he said, trying to catch his breath. ‘so… how did i do?’

you raised an eyebrow, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. ‘you’re asking me? you just made an amazing goal out there.’

‘well,’ he said, leaning in a little closer, ‘i was kind of distracted…’ he flashed you a playful grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. ‘but now that i’m here, i’m feeling pretty good.’

you laughed softly, shaking your head. ‘you’re something else, joão. i don’t know how you do it.’

he shrugged nonchalantly, still standing in front of you. ‘what can i say? sometimes a little bit of motivation can make a big difference.’

you chuckled, feeling your heart flutter at the way he was looking at you. his usual confidence was replaced by something else now, something softer, more endearing.

‘so,’ joão continued, eyes sparkling, ‘i think i need a proper celebration for that goal… maybe dinner later? what do you think?’

you smiled, your heart warming at his attempt to impress you. ‘sounds good to me,’ you said, your voice teasing. ‘but you might want to stay focused next time. you were looking a little sleepy out there earlier.’

‘i’ll be better next time,’ he promised with a wink, ‘especially if i know you’ll be watching.’

and with that, you both shared a quiet moment, the noise of the practice fading into the background as joão stood there, grinning like a fool, knowing that his energy had never come from the game, it came from you.

[yashirawr]

katsuki, shouto and izuku with a reader who is like giselle from enchanted !!

bnha main three x gn!giselle!reader.

type: headcanons, fluff (& a splash of angst if you squint reaaaally hard)

warnings: kissing, a bit of cursing bc bakugou is here but otherwise so much fluffy fluff ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ reader's quirk is not mentioned per se.

a/n: hi, sweet people !! i've been practicing my english skills to write and expand my vocabulary but i'm still not quite good, so i apologize if you see something misspelled :c i accept criticism !! ok, so, yesterday i saw enchanted and disenchanted and realized how much i wanna be like giselle haha and when i looked for fanfiction with a giselle-like reader i was left heartbroken since i didn't find any TT so i took it upon myself to write something, hope you like this <3

♡ ୭̥ ° bakugo katsuki

this boy is known for showing his hate for sweet things, yet no one – not even him – is able to comprehend why you're the exception.

since the first day of school he can tell you're going to be more annoying than all the other extras. randomly humming and singing, using smooth arm movements as if you came from a fairytale.

you look harmless, a stupid pushover. his only comfort is that you won't get in his way.

or that's what he thinks.

because with time, he starts seeing more of you. his gaze starts to linger whenever you're around, putting careful attention to your actions, your expressions. wide eyes and radiant smile, always trying to spread kindness and love, so genuine; you're like an open book.

katsuki's rough, katsuki's loud, katsuki's explosive.

so imagine his surprise when he realizes with time that the sight of you makes his eyes soften, his chest warm, his guard drop.

he wants to deny it, he wants to deny it very strongly. however, everyone can tell how, little by little, he starts to open up to you.

he lets you be closer, so vivid around him. you can do things that others would get yelled at for trying. when did anyone see somebody getting into bakugou's personal space – whether it is laying on his shoulder or playing with his hair – and leave unharmed? when did anyone see somebody using his stuff and not recieving any kind of ill treatment for doing so?

the two of you start spending time together, much to his dismay because of your classmates' teasing. yet it takes you being in danger during a villain attack for katsuki to realize how deep his feelings are.

oh, no– he's falling in love.

and he goes livid. he might seem like someone who already acts recklessly during combat but that's not the truth at all. the want, the need to take you into his arms and protect you is what leads him to take such impulsive decisions.

don't get him wrong, he knows you can defend yourself; you're just as much of a badass as you are of an optimist, after all.

but it's this side you bring out of him. this soft, tender side.

it drives him crazy.

so, once the horror passes and your class settles into its usual endeavors, he does what he knows best: he tries to push you. he tries to make you leave, to scare you off.

but why aren't you running away?

why are you cradling his face with a gentle, loving touch?

one thing leads to the other and your lips meet in a true love's kiss, as you would say.

after that, katsuki resigns to listening to your rambling about animals and love and flowers–

he's there to give you a reality check when it's needed, anyway.

"get out of that pretty little head of yours, dumbass, there's fucking homework to do"

yeah, he wouldn't have it any other way.

bonus: you're literally a grumpy x sunshine pairing !! it's hilarious to see you two in the common room because katsuki seems to hold back in showing physical affection or any state of flusteredness. you learned not to demand it from him, either, because he always gets red and would hate for anyone else other than you to see it. it's alright, though, because as soon as you're alone he turns into a clingy puppy. good luck trying to get rid of him to do something just as brief as going to the bathroom !!

♡ ୭̥ ° todoroki shouto

shouto's life has never been any sort of fairytale. all that love chitchat... yeah, pretty much false.

but then he meets you, and you're so eager to show him.

so you start sticking to him, following him around. it could look like pestering for some people, but to shouto?

oh, shouto's charmed by you.

it takes him some time. before the sports festival, he couldn't help but give you cold stares and dry replies. of course, your enthusiastic self would take all of that without complaining.

but it is after the event that he starts to open his eyes and contemplate a little more of you. especially after you compliment his quirk and express how happy you are for him, for truly giving his all during the fights and making use of his fire.

another element, you said, that was part of him and needed to be seen. you mentioned how you believed in him, warm smile painted on your lips as you beamed with joy.

there was no way he would get his eyes off of you after that.

although shouto is quiet, his gaze is intense. thankfully you're unaware of such things – trained to being accostumed to stares by your whole life experience – so you can't tell how the next days he's so entranced by you and the way you carry yourself so gracefully.

you see beauty everywhere, often even stopping in your tracks to observe your surroundings. you seem to shine, delighted.

too occupied by twirling around and interacting with everyone around you, you fail to notice how he's softly smiling at the sight.

as time passes, your conversations stop being one-sided. his replies show more interest, it's not only about his gaze anymore but also about the way he accepts all your affections; melting into your touch.

the way he's always there to protect you when villain attacks happen, when anyone looks at you the wrong way or tries to talk to you in as much as a slightly rude tone. the way he comforts you whenever you're sensitive about something, never questioning where did it come from.

you're his top priority.

so when you share a first kiss, he feels his heart pumping so hard it could jump right off his chest. this unknown feeling, leading him to be so attached to you, was love all this time.

you were right about showing him, he figures.

because now holding your hand gives him so much happiness that he now kind of gets why you're so enthusiastic about said concept.

when you go on one of your rambles about it and ask him, "right?" he smiles at you and responds:

"yes, my love, i think i know now"

you smile at him, so widely as you always do, and he leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

bonus: when he tells you his family story for the first time, you cry. you cry so much until you feel his strong arms wrap around you. yet shouto, despite trying to comfort you since you were the one crying, feels as if your embrace comforts him. you hug him by the waist, rubbing his back so gently and carefully that it brings tears to his eyes. everyday he feels more enamoured by you.

♡ ୭̥ ° midoriya izuku

you meet for the first time with izuku because of bumping into him during the quirk's test on the first day of class. he falls and you crouch along with him, soft-spokenly apologizing and asking if he's alright.

as he looks up at you, the boy can only think of how you look exactly like an angel.

you best believe our baby broccoli blushes furiously to his ears.

it doesn't take you anything to become friends and when you do he realizes that, despite both of you being pretty positive people, you have very different ways of thinking.

everything to you is magical, wonderful, exciting. izuku learned this from only the first few days of knowing you, and he found it really beautiful and encouraging. it was something to admire you for, and it never failed to impress him the way you would always be open to new opportunities, grateful for every single one you were given.

similarly, nothing to you was ever a problem! so when izuku rambled about his past, his difficulties with his quirk and worries you always found a way to make his point of view shift 180° and move on to positive thoughts.

in a world where he's exposed to so much pressure, you act as a beacon of life that peaks through the darkness.

and so, you're with him every step of the way.

he doesn't even know when his love for you starts blooming, especially since he has such a focus on heroics that doesn't usually let him think about anything else. but when he finds himself dreaming about your bright smile, mumbling as he watches you from afar sing to happy little animals you encountered, blushing to the tips of his ears by only hearing you say his name with so much care and glee–

he realizes too late he's down bad. in fact, he's the last one to realize, since the whole class watches in horror as you two interact so lovingly with each other as almost second nature.

mina has the theory that the two of you are secretly together, but it is obvious for everyone that if you two really were, you would be shouting it to the four winds. that's just who you are, and that's just how they know izuku loves you.

of course, you're the first one to make a move.

you go up to him before class one random morning and ask him if he would like to go out on friday afternoon. he accepts at first, smiling widely at you and you respond with a bubbly "alright then! it's a date!"

his face seemed to turn all shades of red and even go through some other colors before digesting that information.

"a-a d-date with me...?" he lifts a finger, you hum in amusement.

"of course, silly. i'd want no other prince for me but you."

needless to say, it goes amazingly and now the class has to deal with you giving him little pecks on his lips, cheeks and hands as he turns red because of the sudden affection.

bonus: in his notebook page about your quirk he has written a whole analysis of how you and your voice are appealing to animals and what does that have to do with it. he even tried talking about it to you, but your reply was: "i'm not quite sure, but i can only be grateful about them! they are my friends and i'm truly fortunate for their company!"

[muffinsin]

Hiii! I saw the succubus decline (dude was rude) and actually though of a request myself

Soooo, how about, not necesarily a succubus, but something like a demon that maybe the maids summoned ending up making a pact with the sisters so they could spare those maids (since soulless bodies don't have good blood), so the demon just gets to hang out around the sisters, trying to bug them enough to hand over the maids soul (and maybe in the end ending up falling for them)

Idk if there can be smut added to this without rambling too much

Btw, good luck on your exams 🫶

-💜 anon

Hey, hon! :) (this prompt is from before the succubus ask was settled). I’ve decided to write out a few normal HCs and include a little smut snippet for each of em, too, for fun ;)🙌 thanks for the ask :)!

Masterlists

Bela

When Bela was approached by a group of flustered, hurried, and downright terrified maidens and the cause of it all was not one of her younger sisters, she knew something was off

Hearing talk about a “demon” trying to take their souls certainly intrigued her

At first, she thinks it’s nothing but fearmongering, nothing but a few naive, younger maids seeing Cassandra and mistaking her for the devil. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time, she thinks to herself with a light chuckle

Still, if only to ensure all their precious maids remain out of harm’s way and are capable of performing their duties well, she looks into it

She patrols by the halls, ready to keep someone from entering the quarters

Of course, she is certain this is about Cassandra- again. She scowls as she paces about occasionally, tired of constantly having to watch over her sisters and saving the staff- an important resource- from her wrath, hunger, and lust

Yet, it isn’t Cassandra she suddenly feels behind her, and she immediately turns when she feels warm breath hit her earlobe

With her sickle raised, she comes face to face with a person- a creature- she has never seen at the castle before

You’re tall and appear confident despite the weapon held to your throat. When the tip of it pierces your warm- almost hot- skin, Bela frowns at the sight of dark, inhuman blood

She demands who you are, and yet you don’t answer

Instead, you seem to almost study her, and she shivers as she watches your dark eyes trail down her body

Looking at your body in return, she finds the light, blue gleam by your chest, and just briefly she wonders- and immediately scolds herself for doing so- whether there could have been something behind the maid’s tales after all, and those souls taken are now stored within you

She shakes her head, ridding herself of the surely ridiculous thought. Then, she snarls, demanding to know who you are as she runs out of patience

Infuriated, she watches as your eyes trail across her again and grits her teeth when no answer comes from you

Instead, you only smirk at her, and when she attempts to bring her sickle down on you yet again, she instead is left gasping when you disappear into thin air

From then on, she keeps a closer watch on the maids, her presence both causing fear and bringing comfort to them in these times

And while you at first thought her presence was fun, spending a fair amount of time making fleeting encounters and exchanging long looks, you soon notice: Bela is becoming a problem

For every single time you attempt to retrieve a soul, she’s there, slicing at you and forcing you back into your realm

You’re sure you’ve heard her insist to her sisters; the little humans simply have an ill taste to them without their souls

With this begins a period of back and forth exchanges, of attempting to sneak past her without success, of attempting to bribe her into leaving- saying you will merely take one, even of trying to distract her

You’re certain, she’s quite capable of defending herself. You can’t help but wonder what her soul would feel like, even as you make no effort to take it in the slightest

You begin looking forward to seeing her

While Bela stands with her arms crossed and an annoyed expression displayed on her beautiful face, you smirk, eagerly and perhaps greedily taking each day as an opportunity to watch her

In only a few days your interest in her seems to turn into a full blown crush. You visit the maidens quarters each day, even as you hunger for something else than their souls by now, sticking to taking them from the village instead. Not that Bela needs to know that

Instead, you spend countless hours staring her down, watching her beautiful hair almost shine in the candlelight when she passes the well lit parts of the corridor, or how she will occasionally sigh, as though thinking this is beneath her

When she knows you’re watching her, she no longer attacks, as though equally intrigued by you. Often, you feel her eyes on you, when she’s sure you aren’t looking

And in time, you allow yourself to adapt more playful behaviour

You begin teasing her, asking for but one maid at a time. She always shoots you down with a scowl, and gasps each time you lift your finger to trace her lips, as though to make that very scowl disappear again

At other times, you have fun playing hide and seek with her, allowing the stunning blonde to feel your presence nearby, yet you stay in the shadows until, finally, you laugh and pull her into them, too

And eventually, you forget asking about souls altogether. Eventually, you have eyes only for her, returning each day to see her

You begin appearing in her room, her study, wherever you can find her. She never turns you away, and you feel she’s even experiencing some kind of thrill from trying to figure out where you’re lurking whenever she feels your eyes take her in greedily

When she sleeps, you watch over her, resisting the urge within to reach out and take her soul for yourself

You find, oddly enough- you would never hurt her

You hum to yourself when you feel a sickle press to your back, laughing when you hear a scoff behind you.

“You’ve done better before”, she hums, criticizing your poor hiding spot. Normally, you give her a challenge, sneaking about the hallway leading to the maid quarters and staring her down until she finds you. This time, you lack the patience for this.

Having gotten a good amount of souls from the basement already, and feeling the particularly hungry ones in your chest, you find yourself growing increasingly more hungry towards the blonde in return.

It feels ages since you first stumbled into her, ages of going back and forth and toying about. You’re eager to finally take her for yourself, to feel her cold skin beneath your warm fingertips, to experience the beauty for yourself and take in her feminine figure.

“Cruel”, you joke, turning around. As usual, your eyes immediately find striking gold ones before they trail down and you take in her smooth throat and large chest. She shivers, but doesn’t move or call you out on it, and from the corner of your eye you spot the light blush forming at her cheeks.

She doesn’t step back when you move in, looks up at you with a firm, headstrong expression that would intimidate and impress most. You find, it only makes you more desperate to bring her so much joy, her expression becomes a blur of pleasure.

When you set your hand on your hip and lean down, you feel your core throb at the sight of her skin breaking out into shivers.

At last, you decide to play this game again;

“Let me have one, goldie”, you hum, giggling when she snarls angrily at the nickname given to her. She opens her mouth, ready to immediately shut your request down, yet no words leave her when you squeeze her hip gently.

“I promise, I’ll take only one. I will treat her well”, you coo, keeping your voice low as to not wake any of the slumbering maidens in the room to your right. Seeing the door, though, you smirk as an idea forms in your mind.

Bela gasps when you back her up against the wooden door, her hands flying to your clothing as though to steady herself. Yet, when she feels you step closer, she bites her lip harshly, desperate to stay quiet when your front brushes up against her sensitive nipples.

“It isn’t painful, you know…”, you hum, leaning down to whisper in her ear; “I can make it feel really, really good”, you breathe out, smirking when you feel her shiver beneath you. While she is by no means short, she’s effectively trapped against the door, her eyes fluttering shut at your words, her lip bitten up to help her remain silent. It’s cute to see her try to keep her composure, you find, but it will not do.

“I like to lay them down for me. Start out by kissing and worshipping their lovely-“, you squeeze at her hip, and she jumps “-tight bodies. It gets them nice and calm in my arms”, you whisper, ignoring the building ache in your chest and between your legs, one urging you to take the stunning woman’s soul already, the other urging you to take her as a whole.

All in due time.

You feel her fingers curl at your clothing, as though trying to resist the urge to pull you closer.

“I strip them of their clothing, and I run my hands along their beautiful bodies..”, you hum, and even as you speak you know; there is no body more beautiful than Bela’s. She lets out a low whimper when your hand raises slightly, moving from her hips to the spot just below her breasts.

“They’re not scared, you know? They moan and beg me for more”, you whisper, leaning forth a little more, until you feel her thick chest flush against yours, her nipples hard through her dress. She’s biting her lip and whimpers lowly, as though the sleeping women at the other side of the door are the only things keeping her from moaning out loud.

What a sweet, sweet thought…

“They offer themselves up for me”, you whisper, chuckling lowly. Feeling particularly bold at her positive reactions, you bite at the shell of her ear, a low hum coming from you when her nails dig into your skin. She’s panting lowly, a deep red blush covering her warm cheeks.

At last, you lean down a little more, your lips mere inches from hers.

“Will you do the same?”

Cassandra

Tries to annoy her into giving up the maidens and is intimidated and dommed by her instead

Cassandra first learns of your presence in a way that is- really- unsurprising: by attempting to drain a maid

Pulling one of the few working women aside, she frowns angrily when she barely even flinches. Still, as much as she enjoys the beating heart, wide eyes and teary expressions, this will have to do. She’s hungry

But upon tugging the woman’s hair to expose her neck and biting down with no restraint at all, likely to not only bruise and cut, but perhaps break too, she almost immediately draws back as the first little taste of blood reaches her

No, not blood

Cassandra knows blood. This taste- it’s hardly that

Missing its sweet flavour and metallic, light and unique taste, she moves her tongue in her mouth a little, as though attempting to understand what it is if not blood

She frowns when, despite being (barely-) alive, the woman held by her hair is barely moving, barely breathing, and is keeping utterly quiet

She goes in for a second taste, and yet the results are the same

“Hey!”, she snaps, then, rudely waving her hands in front of the woman’s face. She turns, slowly and zombie-like, almost like old and rotten moroaica in the dungeons

Cassandra becomes fed up entirely too fast

Breaking the woman’s neck and watching as, at last, she falls to the floor, she makes for another maid, and another, and another

Until, finally, she finds one that is whimpering and crying and begging her to oh please, show mercy!

Oh how she loves it when they beg…

For a while, she’s content just writing it off as a weird occurrence. When her maids taste well again, she mostly forgets about it, even as she notices some of the other women look zombie-like still

But, soon enough already, she is forced to be confronted with it yet again

When more and more maidens begin tasting bland and stale, she snaps

Dragging one of the newer maids with her to the dungeons, it takes no time at all for her to lure forth the rumors going about in the castle

Rumors, regarding a devil sulking in the shadows, a predator waiting to snatch one’s very soul

Naturally, she’s intruiged

Suddenly the blood matters none to her anymore

She has a new objective, after all; to find and capture this devil. A hunting trophy, naturally

And so she waits, sulking in the shadows herself, sat by the ceiling in the maid quarters and sharpening her sickle

Like this, she is surprisingly patient

And sure enough, at last: movement

The moment she sees a shadowy figure emerge from the darkness and move towards one of the unsuspecting women, she pounces, uncaring of the countless women she awakens and scares nearly to death

She laughs as she easily grabs onto the creature, or perhaps: a person’s?, collar and drags them out the room

You groan and kick about, trying to free yourself as the tall woman above you drags you effortlessly like a sack of potatoes

The moment you’re out the door, you feel yourself being flung forwards, your head throbbing and body aching as it hits the wall at the opposite side of the corridor

Briefly, you’re about to move away, to turn back to the realm you’re from. Then, something stops you. The sight of breathtaking, dark golden eyes

You stare up at the tall woman as she approaches you, gasping in surprise when she raises a sickle to your throat

“Speak”, she demands, and you’re sure you feel butterflies swirl about in your stomach at the sound of her voice

Your undead heart beats a little faster, the thousand souls within your chest aching and racing about when she leans in close to you

She’s beautiful…

You pick up the scent of blood on her, an almost overwhelming smell as she draws in so near, you feel her breath by your throat

Then, pain

You hiss when she bites down, her sickle by your throat. You never even noticed her grab your wrists until you attempt to lift them and feel her squeeze them painfully

She moans against your throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. Whatever your dark blood tastes like, she seems to enjoy it

When she draws away for but a moment, you shiver at the feeling of her bloodied lips by your ear

“They’re mine”

And good gods, you feel like your chest is about to explode. You bite at your lip, desperate to make less a fool of yourself than you already have by not fighting her in the slightest

When she draws back, though, you can’t help but smile mischievously, eager to take her up on the challenge

Cassandra gasps when you suddenly lean forwards, her sickle swinging wildly, but merely hitting the air as you seem to disappear into nothingness

At this, she smirks. A proper hunt, at last

The moment you return to the castle the next day, you already feel eyes on you. Not any eyes, you’re certain, but the strikingly beautiful ones belonging to the brunette you met just the day before.

At first, you attempt to ignore it. You’ve come for a reason, after all; to collect a soul. Briefly, you yearn for her soul instead, ponder on the dark, dangerous, and beautiful aura you felt come off her the day before. Certainly, she’s far, far more interesting than a maid might be.

As you continue making your way through the castle, you almost think she’ll stalk you only.

You continue feeling her eyes on you, know she must be there, hiding somewhere, tucked away in the shadows. And you can’t help but feel like prey stalked by a predator.

When you move in to the maid quarters and your hand reaches out, fingertips just lightly hovering by the doorknob, she pounces.

You gasp breathlessly as she tugs you back, sharp fingers digging into your skin. In an instant, she’s on you, her bloodied smile wide and dangerous, her body hovering above yours.

You groan. You so desperately want to reach out and take the strong soul that belongs to the beautiful creature on top of you.

As though reading your mind, she laughs, her head thrown back.

"Try it, why don't you?", she dares you, her smile and gaze deadly. She leans down even more, her sharp teeth dragging against your throat. You try to push your thighs together shamefully, though gasp in surprise when her own comes down between yours.

"It tastes better when it's excited, you know", she hums, her voice strong and sure, before she adds breathily; "Prey"

It seems, it's all the warning you get, for in the next moment she alreaady digs her teeth inside, moaning and panting against your skin. She isn't gentle with you, nor is she holding back in any aspect. You hiss at the pain. And still, you can't stop your hips from bucking up, and can't help but drag your body against her offered thigh, whimpering and mewling below her. And it seems her words, her theory perhaps, proves right, for she moans even louder only moments after.

With your cheeks flushed and entire body on fire, you can only lean into the feeling a little more, moaning openly as you submit to the strong, striking woman so effortlessly taking you. She's holding you down, feeding and moaning as her thigh grinds steadily against your core and brings you more and more pleasure. Helpless and far too eager for your own good, perhaps, you drag your hips against her greedily, slurring out moans and gasps as your vision becomes blurry.

So what if she drains you of your blood? If she kills you, if you can even call it that? As a demon, you've been dead since a long time, already. You will simply return to your realm, rest, and if you're lucky- encounter the strikingly beautiful woman the next time you're at the castle again.

You don't mind dying for a creature such as Cassandra Dimitrescu.

Daniela

It's just hardly a secret that the youngest of the Dimitrescu sisters is- curious- most of the time, as it comes to the majority of things

Curious, and lacking even slight care as it comes to the privacy of the castle's staff

She's promised Mother she wouldn't kill all of them without reason! She reasons, Mother never said she couldn't stalk or spy on them!

And while it started out as something she'd do when bored, Daniela now finds herself lounging by the ceiling in the maiden quarters nearly every day just before lunch time, half swarming, tucked away and just out of sight

It isn't even something she does out of malice, nor does she do it out of boredom anymore

Instead, Daniela has almost fully convinced herself she's wanted there. That she is part of the community the staff has built for itself, welcomed to listen in to their chatter

At times, she almost forgets herself, almost wants to swarm down and join them and is only held back when even the lightest buzzing of her flies suddenly has all of them tense up and quieten

It hurts, more than she likes to let on, and still it just rarely gets them killed. After Alcina scolded her youngest for doing so, anyway

And still, she likes to stalk and listen in, her eyes wide and palm covering her lips to quieten her giggles at the latest gossip

Usually, she picks up rather boring things, schedule changes and new recruits, this and that she doesn't bother to care about

Often, she scowls and frowns in disgust, hearing the women talk about her sisters. At times, she feels a fierce blush heat up her cheeks when they talk about her in such manners, too

Today, however, is different

Today, she picks up unusual chatter

Rumors- of a creature haunting the staff at night, a predator after their souls

Naturally, she’s intruiged

And when she decides to stay and wait until nightfall, reading quietly and smiling to herself to pass the time, she eventually does pick up an odd sound

Panting, and a low whimper accompanied by a low, almost wet sound that reminds her of the sound of her hands dragging through her prey’s guts

Leaning down, she spots the tall, odd-looking, not quite human creature crouched by a bloodied maid

She watches, curious, as the maid below her pales more and more, her eyes slipping shut and body cracking as she is turned

She doesn’t know what she’s seeing, but giggles to herself as she watches you rise again, your black clothing soaked in blood, your skin reddened

You turn at the sound and when you run she follows, as any predator predictably would

You hear her giggles behind you, the sound of flies buzzing growing louder and louder until you not only hear, but also feel her swarm

You squeal when you feel the little insects pierce you, some of them going so far as to digging beneath your skin and biting their way out again

Then, far too fast for you to react, she catches up

You gasp as you’re tackled to the cool ground, your eyes wide as they find the stunning woman on top of you, her eyes wide and eager, her smile bloody

She leans down, moaning as her warm tongue drags over your bloodied fingers

You feel as though frozen, your core throbbing as you watch and feel her lap up the blood from your hands and clothing, her body light on top of you, her flies digging into you carelessly as though you yourself were a treat to her

Perhaps you are

Perhaps, looking at this one’s beauty, you don’t mind

Daniela coos at you when she at last sits up again, her lips and chin bloodied, her black painted lips moving to a wide smile

“Now, what were you doing, naughty one?”, she teases, her voice light and playful as she waves her finger at you

You feel your undead heart beat a little faster, your body heating up as she leans down to whisper in your ear;

“Don’t you know, stealing from my maidens is naughty?”

Your blood runs cold, and again you feel her bloodied tongue drag against your skin- your ear, this time

Then, she giggles, moving her hand to your chest, here countless souls and your beating heart lie below

“I can hear how happy you are to see me!”, she coos, with a smile so bright you’re certain you’re swooning already

“Awhh, you’re blushing!”

You doubt you are, doubt you’re capable of doing so, but your core throbs at her voice nonetheless

Already you imagine having her, her bare body tangled with yours

You don’t intend to take her soul, no. Not a soul this beautiful

But you do want her

When you allow yourself to fall backwards, your body turning to mere shadows as you find yourself returning to your realm, you still hear her gasp

In the time to come, you’re with her nearly every day, in one way or another

Surprisingly, she never stops you from taking the souls, only watches curiously and hunts you down after

Sometimes, you manage to turn this in your favour, to use it as an opportunity

Such as when you run as fast as you can, blending with the shadows whenever she nearly catches up with you

Eventually, you’re tackled by her, always

You don’t mind

“Sly little thing…!”, she’d smirk, her body on top of yours as she tackles you on a bed in one of the rooms, her body brushing against yours, her nipples hard through her tights dress

“So naughty!”, she’d coo, laughing when you’d suddenly turn and push her up against a wall, your body tight against her own, your knee strong between her warm legs

It’s driving you crazy

She is

In the best way

You find yourself running from her yet again, fighting a smile as you hear the volume of her swarm increasing with every little second.

You know this game well by now.

You sneak into the castle, you drain a maid’s soul. You feel her eyes on you, curious, eager, hungry.

Today, you are hungry too, and craving something else than the souls she recklessly allows you to take.

Today, you hunger for her.

After your kill, she chases you down. By now you know the layout of the castle well enough to know where to run to. To know just where you want her.

It didn’t take you long to figure out where the beautiful woman chasing you down each day rests. And while she sleeps, unaware of the fact you often come and go as you please, you find yourself being the one to watch her. You’d stand by her bed or sit at her desk, your eyes set on her, on her rising and falling chest, on her feminine, thick eyelashes fluttering occasionally even asleep, as though a part of her was aware of being watched.

Oddly enough, despite the numerous opportunities, you never took her soul.

You never even felt tempted to, unwilling to take such a beautiful thing from her.

You laugh as you’re tackled, your body falling to the ground in her chambers. She doesn’t look surprised to be here, or perhaps just hasn’t noticed where you’ve led her.

“Got you!”, she cheers, giggling to herself as she moves her head down again. She always does this, though while it started out with her tongue licking the metallic blood from your hands and clothing, she’s grown..bolder, now, her tongue dragging against your throat today instead.

You smirk to yourself, your hands slowly riding up her fleshy, soft thighs and to her wide, curvy, feminine hips. No, you’ve got her.

The naturally sultry, somewhat dominant appearing woman squeaks in surprise as you grip her hips a little tighter and lean up, lifting her with you as you rise to your feet. She’s light, easy enough to manoeuvre due to her nature. Daniela gasps when she’s pushed over next, her head smudged in her pillows, her breasts and stomach pushed against the bed, her ass stuck out by the end of the her for you.

Immediately, you lean over her, humming lowly by her ear as you hear her pant and gasp again. You press your thighs together, feeling her round, firm, bubbly ass press into your front.

You begin to lick at her throat, uncaring of the choker necklace somewhat in your way. Your sweet reward comes in the form of soft moans and little pleads and her hips grinding back against you and forth against the bed again.

“Please, my love…”, she begs, whimpering adorably for you. Her cheeks adopt a warm heat and cute, pink hue. She feels your hands slide to her own, your fingers at her wrist holding hers to the bed.

You find, despite you being the demonic one, she certainly has an inhuman charm to her, like a siren or succubus luring you in, like a irresistible pull that grows stronger the more you’re with her.

You smirk down at her, openly grinding down against her stuck out ass.

“Beg properly”, you demand, your voice low and breathy against her ear. You hear her whine and moan, quickly growing impatient and more desperate. In the end, though, the cute thing complies.

“Please, my love, please touch me…!”

You shiver, your hips bucking forth and pulling a gasp from her.

“But I am touching you, beautiful”, you tease, your fingers tightening around her wrists as though to prove your point. It only has her mewl sweetly for you, her hips rolling as much as she can move them in her pinned position.

“Please, my love…I ne-eed…”, she whispers, her lips moving to a pout, her back arching below you. You see no reason to deprive yourself of her much longer.

Drawing back, you toy with her corset, gripping the strings as you undo it easily. Next comes the zipper, though you pause halfway down, just before her thick ass is bared to you.

“Please….!”, she whimpers, and it’s all the permission you need.

Daniela gasps as you tug her dress away sharply and tug her back, tugging hungrily until the dress is gone and thrown somewhere in the room.

You cup her ass first, her sweet gasp music to your ears as you fondle the fleshy cheeks and hook your finger in the string of her panties, hardly big enough to cover even half a cheek.

“Naughty…”, you tease, chuckling as you unhook your finger and the string slaps back against her. She gasps when you grab her cheeks next, pulling them just slightly apart and laughing when the string slips between, her ass completely bared to you. Clearly, she too was hoping on being in your company.

You move up next, your hands sliding across her bare back.

Again, she sticks out her ass a little more, whining for attention.

“Get on with it!”, she whines, her hands gripping at the sheets, her lips parting and a squeal passing them when your hand comes down on her cheek harshly, easily silencing her and preventing her from voicing any more bratty, impatient half commands.

You easily kick her legs apart with your own, cooing as you move your hand between them and cup her pussy through the thin panties. Already you feel the heat coming off of her, and her need. Daniela moans and pants on the bed for you, shivering as you move your hand and your finger brushes across her clit.

“Y-Yes…!”, she gasps, rolling her hips, whining and mewling for you. You feel your own core throb at this.

Feeling particularly bold to at least taste her in some way- if not by taking her soul- you smirk as you make up your plan.

“H-A-Ahh!”, Daniela squeals, her back arching and legs trembling as she suddenly feels your head push between them. Your tongue finds her clit easily through her thin panties and she shivers as she feels your teeth dig into them and tug the offending item away.

“Mmhmmm..!”, she moans, her sounds muffled by the pillows, her hips rolling and twitching as you brush your tongue- at last- against her bare pussy. You immediately taste her sweetness, feel how soft she is against you.

How could you possibly ever get enough of her?

She feels you grip at her hips again, your nose brushing slightly into her as you feast, her clit throbbing and aching inside your mouth.

You’re hungry, insatiable, and ready to take everything from her.

At last, you know, you will get to claim the sweetest of treats found at this castle.

[inumkii]

gojo x reader angst from a wip that ill never finish.

----

“he’s,,” gojo pauses to collect his thoughts, “he’s no good. yn, i need you to trust me when i tell you he doesn’t have good intentions with you.”

you scoff. an annoyed look plays at your features. who was satoru gojo to tell you who's good for you and who's not?

“and what exactly are those intentions?” you snip, not really caring what he has to say.

“to get in your pants? he just wants to sleep with you.” satoru’s mad now. you don’t know why it affects him this much, but it aggravates you. when there’s competition, only then does satoru start to panic. why go through all this if he didn’t even like you like that?

“and why would you think i don’t want that?” a rare moment where you had the upper hand on satoru; he opened an opportunity for a smirk to poke out from your lips;.

he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. his eyes are searching your figure, desperately trying to recognize the person in front of him. but nothing about the way you’re acting makes sense to him. what was this guy doing to you?

“listen, satoru. you don’t need to start caring about me all of a sudden. i know what i’m getting myself into and i dont fucking care.” it's clear he doesnt have anything to say after your snark so you fill the short moment of silence, “so please, if you have anything else to say about us just keep it to yourself.”

“but i do care about you-“

“so suddenly? because before this whole thing, you weren’t all too concerned about what i was doing.”

“that’s different- you know how busy we were!”

“and youre not busy anymore?” you look down at your phone to check the time, “fifteen minutes. you were supposed to meet the elders fifteen minutes ago. but you pushed that aside to tell me i need to stop talking to a guy?”

he’s unable to defend himself. mouth occasionally opening to speak up, but he can’t. “the elders could have waited fifteen minutes for you to spare me even a phone call- a text-“ your voice almost breaks. swallowing down any thing that could choke you up, you end the conversation. “you know what. never mind. see you later, satoru.”

[luvseraphh]

heyy^^

i really like how u write illness, and thats why i wanted to make a request :D

so, it's my first time ever asking a request, i hope i dont mess it up.

i didnt really get the idea of your cafe thing, m sorry :((

so, i'll mirror myself since i'm kinda insecure :'/

i have scoliosis. a kinda bad stage. and there was this time i got to wear a bikini and i ONLY wear loose clothes because of my weird back. anyway :p

i would love to see your gorgeous writing in a drabble of some M.H.A carachters (izuku and denki ><) dealing with a y/n in this scenario, as a couple c:

have a good day and a good life, ilyyy :333

-as i said, i didnt understand how the cafe work, but id say this is a "donut latte caramel drizzle"...?

scoliosis i. midoriya, d. kaminari

THANK YOU!!! i have scoliosis too (pretty minor) but i hope this is ok!! i'm doing like a comfort thing trying to make you feel more confident (because let's be honest they're down bad for you no matter what you look like, they just want you to feel good about yourself)

denki

"oh my god," he says, jaw dropping when you leave the closet in your bikini, eyes tracing your figure.

"is it that bad?" you ask, feeling insecure about his intense gaze.

"bad? baby, i'm on my knees. call me a dog the way i'm barking. if you asked me to sit, i'd do it. if you wanted me to worship you i'd be on my knees in a heartbeat. there's not enough words in the english language to describe how good you look," he says, getting up to get a closer look at you, his eyes never moving from your body.

"are you sure?" you softly ask, looking at the blond.

"i'm positive," he says, pressing his soft lips against yours.

izuku

"can i look?" he asks, eyes closed as you step out of the closet.

"i don't know, i look really bad, but you can look if you want to," you reply timidly.

"that's impossible," he says, eyes opening and taking in your appearance.

"i feel like it brings too much attention to my back," you admit, looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i wish i could have this sight all the time," izuku mumbled, obviously not meaning to be talking out loud, face growing red when he realized he actually said it. "i just mean-," he tries to defend himself.

taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @n3r0-5352 @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows

ⓒ luvseraph

[allmannerofmalady]

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get some juicy content or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor. It does seem to confirm he kept the Inquisitor’s arm aaaand I love him your honour.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

—> edit to say that I do notice and enjoy the codex entries, callbacks to Tevinter Nights, Masked Empire, the older games. I wish that care and detail was woven into the main story and overall end product and not just background fluff. I know others are satisfied with those additions, wish that were me. I saw a tweet saying that every callback to a previous game or storyline actually pissed them off even more lol, I relate.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like ��levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

“ you're here, why? 

“To talk”

Can't say  i didn't expect this, the songs aren't exactly discreet 

Were sitting here waiting for someone to say the first word

“ i came here to apologize for my friends actions, and mine we’ve been too ashamed and embarrassed to talk about what happened at the oscars we sort of acted like it never happened until your songs came out, but i miss you i can’t sleep without you,  miss you singing in my shower not knowing i can hear you”

  i can't help but smile at his confession 

“ are you sure your team isn't just too proud to say an official apology and not try and defend their actions like they did backstage at the oscars? Please Spencer, I don’t have time for bullshit.”

“Please, meet us at dinner tomorrow”

I shake my head “ cant, i have a show tomorrow at coachella”

“  we’ll be there. Dinner afterwards?”

To be petty or to be not to be petty

“  ill see.”

Its like i can physically see him relax after i said that

The next mid day

Did i maybe wait to perform a song specifically about the bau and theyre arrogance  

Yess????

Is this maybe adding fuel to the fire???

Most likely 

As i cheerly walk up on stage crowd loud as hell which is making me happy i walk up to the mic stand

“Hi coachella.”

The crowd erupts in cheers i see in the corner of my eye the team backstage on the side of me watching me and the crowd looking surprised at how loud they are 

‘’ I wanted to start this by singing an unreleased track called u.a.b.  Yes, i know its a weird name doesn't mean anything just wanted to be weird about it”

The crowd laughs…lets hope they don't spell that backwards and somehow crack the code name

The instrumental plays, i've been working hard on my high notes and riffs so lets hope this goes well.

Yeah, you really tried

But I was planted all the lies you told me, oh

All the shit you've done

You can't outrun the way you understand me

You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale

You don't even care

You focused your frustration on a small detail

Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

And I'm taking it right back

 I'm no blow up doll, no free-for-all

No slave to your decision, ooh

Gotta find a way to break the spell

To get the hell away from those who block my vision

You used me as a fragment of your grand design, hey

And you, you don't get to put me on your bottom line

You don't get what's mine, and I'm doing fine

Wow, i've never hit a note that high in my entire life and the team looks incredibly shocked, i could laugh

Said you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why would I listen?

You don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, baby

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, hey

Taking it right back, baby

Taking it right back

 I did it. The crowd is happy im so proud of myself i walk off stage after finishing the rest of my songs 

Not even paying the team any mind i go to my management and friends getting water etc 

Spencer walks up to me  

“ that was amazing, genuinely unbelievable  you must be exhausted, are you sure you feel like going to that dinner?’’

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK 

I forgot about the dinner.

links to the other parts of famous!reader series!

https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752739792312320000/i-have-no-one-to-blame-but-you?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752706752752025600/you-made-me-miserable?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752661898593435648/apologize?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752629582800257024/opposites-dont-attract?source=share

[boy-gender]

How do you deal with guilt around being a man, and like generally feeling like you're "betraying women" or choosing to be something bad by transitioning? It's something I've really been struggling with..

I sort of have two answers for you.

The first is a bit glib, but I think you've got some bioessentialism to unlearn, anon. I know that it's probably not a belief you arrived at yourself- rather, a bunch of hateful radfem douschebags have so often repeatedly said shit like that, that you're a traitor, you're failing feminism, youre just trying to escape the patriarchy, you're mocking what women are, men are evil and youll become evil especially with testosterone. That kind of crap.

Genuinely I do not give it any thought. It's ridiculous on the surface, so I write it off as misguided and inane. There is no logical way to justify grouping an entire half of the population together, deciding that the one thing they have in common (being men) is somehow the defining trait about them (because nothing else is being taken into account, like their sexuality, ethnicity, trans or intersex status, poverty level, where they live, whatever) and then also deciding that one common trait is the root of all evil. I've personally had a lot of experience with people doing this with certain mental illnesses- particularly cluster B personality disorders- and deciding like "yes this one thing about you makes you evil. You have Evil Person Disorder," and seeing how stupid that was, I just applied it elsewhere. Humans are far too diverse, nuanced, and contradictory for any flat rule like "all X people are bad" to ever be accurate. If it's not accurate, it's not useful, so I don't judge myself by it. I literally just block the people spewing that shit and let it slide off like water on a duck. I have enough warped internalized beliefs from my upbringing- I'm not adding more when I can immediately and obviously see their flaws.

So my advice is to block anyone you see saying that shit. You might be beginning to internalize it because of just how often you see it- so you need to cut that off at the source. Radfems are not and never will be allies; they do not have "some good points." Their movement was specifically designed by conservatives to uphold white supremacist capitalism, and nothing that comes from that is ethically correct. I'd suggest picking up Mothers of Conservatism by Michelle Nickerson. A lot about the origins of the radfem/female separatism movements are detailed there, created by fundamentally conservative women. With this new 4B movement shit on the rise, it's helpful to understand how fucked up and wrong they've always been from the beginning. My second answer to you is to look at what manhood means to you. If you don't think you can be objective about this, ask a friend to help. List the traits you associate with what *you* personally want to be as a man, what you hope you transition towards. Do you want to be a financial provider? Do you want to defend your community? Do you want to be generous? Brave? Do you want to be an expert in a special interest? Do you want to make lots of friends?

Make a list of those traits. Then look at them, divorced from the idea of gender. Is being a financial provider "bad?" Is being generous bad? Or brave? Or having lots of friends? Are any of these things bad in isolation, or does your guilt about them come from their association with manhood? Is that /your/ association, or did other people cause you to think there is an association?

For me, I had two formative male relationships as a child. My father, and my maternal grandfather. My father was an abusive piece of shit who liked to pick me up by the throat and slam me into walls, threaten our pet cats, scream at me until I dissociated, called me slurs, hated my opinions on anything, belittled me, believed only in capitalism, is a social darwinist capitalist schill, hates my mom, treated me like a servant and punching bag, and is a miserable fuck with no friends.

My grandpa was an old man who loved scotland and tartan and scottish terriers even though he never had one, loved each of his cats which he had all the time. He collected coins and read about history, he made model planes. He watched judge judy with me and talked about the cases and if we agreed with her rulings; he watched the news from multiple different outlets a day and taught me to weigh them against one another. He loved sitting on the porch and watching neighborhood kids play, and he drank a lot of lemonade. He was a brilliant chemist, provider, raised 4 kids in near poverty, then raised 8 grandkids after that. He would sneak me chocolate malt balls as a "vitamin" and he would tease my grandma by pretending to pick up and lick his plate after dinner. He taught my uncle to garden who then taught my cousin, so all my life gardening has been "mens work" to me. He was soft spoken, curious, patient, and mischevious. He loved my grandma for 60 years until he died.

These men have nothing in common except that they were men. Being a man didnt make my grandpa evil because he chose not to be. Being a man didnt make my dad evil either; he's an evil fuck because he made that choice. They are both sentient beings, who can use logic and emotions alike. One chose poorly. It never made sense to me as a child to assume all men would be like my dad or like my grandpa, because they were both men and they weren't at all like each other. Some categories are just so broadly diverse that they aren't really helpful- if I ask you to picture a mammal, do I mean a monkey or a mouse? Does "sea creature" mean a giant ass blue whale or a tiny piece of plankton? "Man" as a category is too broad to make assumptions about. I know it sounds circular and reductive, but the only thing that makes someone a man is...being a man. Nothing else.

I find it helps to look at a diverse array of men, to see all that men can be, especially men not like myself or the men I know. What does it mean to be a man in rural Yunnan farm country? What did it mean to be a man in medieval europe? What is it like being a gay black man from california, or a hunter living off the grid in appalachia? What does it mean to be a man in a culture where long hair is masculine, or where harvesting plants is masculine, where being a doctor is masculine? What about cultures where adornment is masculine? Hell, what about animals? What's it like to be a male lion vs a male house cat? What do I think about male cardinals, who are the bright lovely red ones, whose color is meant to draw a predators eye to them and away from the female cardinals and their nests?

To me, gender is an all you can eat buffet. It's customizeable. You can pick up or ignore or throw away any traits you want or don't want. Grab things that are feminine in your culture and incorporate them into your manhood in a subversive, gender nonconforming way. Take things that are masculine that make you happy, that you're reclaiming in a way because you may not have been allowed to do/be them before. Fill your gender with the ideals and aesthetics you like. You are fundamentally changing manhood by being a man, by being a different kind of man than any other man. If there are 4 billion men on the planet, there are 4 billion different 'microgenders' of man.

Seems silly to write off an entire 4 billion people as inherently evil and incapable of either goodness or change. It's just illogical. For me, that's enough to discard the idea wholecloth. If it doesn't make sense, I'm not wasting my time with it. That's not an ability everyone else has easily though, so you take the time you need. Try to look at yourself as objectively as possible, as an outsider. As you transition, have your actions become more evil? Are you committing sexist acts? Have you literally betrayed all the women you know somehow? Do you feel yourself becoming less kind, less patient, less interested in equality or the preservation of life? I'm betting, since you're nervous about it enough to ask, that none of those things are happening to you. Do not let yourself be gaslit into believing you are becoming something you're not. Look at your actions, your words. Look at your values and how you live up to them. If you don't see any sudden discrepancy, then you know anyone who tells you you're becoming evil by becoming a man is straight up lying to you. They're projecting an idea onto you that doesnt fit reality; trying to put a round peg in the square hole. Be curious, be objective. Do not be misled, and for those who try to mislead you, hit them with a chunky block button.

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 33

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The takeout bag hit the roof with a soft thump as Lena and Kara turned to face Lex, sushi rolls spilling out across the too-short distance between them.

‘Lex. How long have you been here?’

‘Long enough. I was surprised to hear from you after all this time, so I thought I’d teleport in quietly and get the lay of the land before I revealed myself. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to find you not in a deadly battle for your life, but casually sitting up here doing nothing in particular. I considered that maybe you had just come round to my way of thinking and were ready to join your family, but then who should show up but Little Miss Blonde Ambition herself, and you all but tell her you’re trying to lay a trap for me. Not a very good one I’ll admit, but that still hurts Lena.’

‘It’s not like that. Kara followed me up here, and I was trying to get rid of her. Just because I didn’t want to let you kill her doesn’t mean we can’t still be on the same side.’

Lex shook his head pityingly.

‘I almost admire your attempts to salvage the situation sis, but lets be honest, we both know that I could outwit you with my wits tied behind my back. So shall we just cut to the chase?’

Lena took a cautious quarter step towards Kara, trying to get between her and Lex, but it was no good. She was standing just too far away to block without being obvious about it, and that would only draw further attention to her.

‘Alright, fine. But lets keep this in the family. Let Kara leave, and you and I can discuss things like adults.’

‘Really, Lena? Even now, that – creature – is all you can think about? After everything I did for you, after how generous I’ve been all this time, letting you have your way with your little toy when you should have been focusing on building our legacy? No matter how far I lower my expectations of you, you always find a way to disappoint me. You’re pathetic.’

‘HEY, don’t talk to her like that!’

Kara stepped forwards, fists clenched and jaw set with fury at Lex’s casual cruelty, though she hadn’t seemed to care a bit when he had insulted her. She seemed taller suddenly, a new set to her shoulders that recalled Supergirl more than Kara Danvers, a steely look in her eye that said she was ready to fight for Lena if it came to it.

Lena threw out an arm to stop her before she could move any closer, her own stare flint as she met Kara’s steel and struck sparks.

‘Stay out of this Kara.’

Her tone was a sharp rebuke, though inside she was more touched than she could express that even without her powers Kara was willing to go up against the mass-murdering maniacal genius who had very nearly taken down Superman at full strength, all for her sake.

But her best hope of getting Kara out of here in one piece was to have Lex dismiss her as beneath his notice, and her noble but ill fated attempts to defend her were not helping with that.

‘Yes, stay out of this Kara. Or should I call you Su-’

‘DON’T. She’s nothing to you, she’s not a threat. Just let her walk away, and I’ll come with you. I can help you.’

‘You think I need to bargain for your help? You’ve been helping me for months. Just imagine – DEO backed beta testing for my patented alien neutering technology with full, if unwitting, co-operation from the primary test subject. It’s been most illuminating.’

Of course.

Of course Lex had factored her attempts to restore Supergirl into his plan, and if Lena hadn’t been so laser focused on Kara the whole time she would have deduced that from the start . Not that it would have mattered anyway. After all, what other choice had there really been? Her brother had set up a situation where he won whatever move she played, and Lena stood by her decision to at least try to get Kara’s memories back. Besides, it might even work to her advantage now.

She tilted her chin up and flashed a sharp, self-satisfied smile worthy of Lex himself, conveying all the arrogant Luthor confidence that was her birthright as much as his.

‘And doesn’t that just go to prove my point? Leave the Danvers girl out of this, and I can help you with your real objective. You know she was never the one you really wanted anyway.’

‘And you’d be willing to go after my real objective, in exchange for her?’

‘Lena, whatever this is, you don’t have to-’ Kara tried to chip in, but Lena spoke over her, her eyes never leaving her brother’s face.

‘If that’s what it takes.’

She was lying of course. Once Kara was safely clear of Lex and she had access to his hideout, she would revert to plan A and find a way to get the information she needed out of him, and then kill him before he could carry out his intentions against Superman. She tried not to dwell on what she would do if things went wrong and the only way to save Kara’s life was to remove Superman’s powers for real, leaving the world at Lex’s mercy without either of its Kryptonian protectors.

It wasn’t going to come to that.

And… well, if it did, she’d just have to find a way to save the world herself, and then restore both of them. She’d do it if she had to.

Whatever it takes.

The silence between them lasted just long enough that Lena began to feel an inkling of hope that he might be considering it, then Lex shook his head.

‘As soon as you let go of the chess piece you’re committed to your move, you should know that by now. You broke a sacred trust today Lena, and you have to accept the consequences.’

Lex kept eye contact with her, his expression almost regretful as he pulled a gun from the concealed holster in his jacket and took quick but careful aim at her chest. Lena’s fingers twitched to reach for her own weapon, but as her plan had been to gain her brother’s trust she had compromised accessibility for discretion in her packing, and she had been so intent on getting Kara away that the risk of retrieving it had felt too great compared to what could happen if she failed. Now it was too late: by the time she realised what he was doing, Lex had well and truly outdrawn her. The moment echoed with all the other times it had come down to the three of them, and the choice she had to make between her xenophobic brother and the alien woman she had fallen in love with.

Only this time Lex was the one with holding the gun, and Lena was staring empty handed down its barrel at her own demise, knowing that once she was shot the choice would be out of her hands. There would be nothing she could do to save Kara.

‘It’s time to say goodbye, baby sister.’

The apparent regret in Lex’s eyes hardened into gloating satisfaction, and Lena had the brief, awful understanding that the brother she had once known was so far gone that he was going to enjoy watching her die. Somehow that knowledge hurt even now, and the spark of anger it kindled made her shift her stance, preparing for one last ditch, pointless effort to, if not save herself, then at least wipe the smug look off Lex’s face before she died.

She was preparing to spring when, at the very last second, the barrel of the gun swung from Lena to Kara, Lex’s finger tensing on the trigger as he recalibrated his aim. Lena, watching him intently throughout for any hint of an opening, caught the shift almost before it appeared and threw herself at Kara, shoving her hard to the ground and out of Lex’s line of fire even as Kara tried to do the same for her.

The gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud in the still night, and there was a spray of red as Lena staggered backwards.

She stumbled, off balance, her knees colliding with the low barrier at the roof’s edge.

Time stretched out into slow motion as Lena felt her centre of gravity shift. Her arms pin wheeled desperately, but there was nothing she could grab, and she tipped, agonisingly slowly, out into empty space.

‘LENA!’

Through a rush of tears she saw Kara above her, leaping the railing and launching herself off the edge. Lena couldn’t get enough air into her lungs to make a sound, but her mouth formed a silent howl of no, no, NO as she watched Kara plummet down after her, arms outstretched like a diver from the high board.

She hadn’t even hesitated.

Lena had been having nightmares like this ever since Kara’s accident, but now she wasn’t waking up with a jerk and a cold sweat in her own bed the way she should have been. She was wide awake this time, and Kara had thrown herself off a roof in a doomed attempt to save Lena’s life. Because this wasn’t like her parkour accident. They were a hundred stories up, and there was no surviving this fall.

In the distance behind Kara’s shoulder Lena saw Alex’s stricken, chalk white face appear over the edge of the roof, grabbing uselessly for her sister even though she was well out of her reach by now.

Where the hell had Alex come from?

But the thought slipped away as quickly as it had come as reality rushed in to replace the first seconds of shocked dissociation from what had just happened.

She was about to die.

Kara was about to die.

Lena’s ears were full of screaming and she wasn’t sure which of them it belonged to, or if the world had simply reduced to one long howl of anguish that would echo and rebound throughout eternity.

Unable to bear it, Lena closed her eyes. She didn’t want to risk seeing the moment that Kara shattered on the unforgiving concrete that was rushing up to meet them.

I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.

And then the whistling of wind past her ears stopped. Her hair fell lightly back against her shoulders as gravity seemed to lose its grip on her, and she heard the soft thumping of a heartbeat that wasn’t her own against her ear.

Was this what dying felt like? Whatever came afterwards, she had at least expected there to be more pain at the moment of impact.

Very tentatively, Lena opened her eyes.

Kara was looking down at her, her expression full of mingled concern and fierce determination. Somewhere during the fall she had lost her glasses, her hair was standing out wild about her face from the wind, and a strange, detached thought came to Lena that she couldn’t believe she could ever have missed that Kara and Supergirl were so clearly the same person. Kara Danvers. Kara Zor El. Just, Kara.

‘Are you okay?’

Somehow Lena managed to reinflate her winded lungs enough to choke out a reply.

‘I… think so? Are you?’

‘Yeah, I’m okay.’

Tears flowed down her cheeks as her survival instinct panic spike began to drop out of fight or flight and towards shock.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

‘Of course, you know I’ll always catch you Lena.’

Lena made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and the yelp of a puppy being stepped on.

‘I actually wasn’t sure this time. You have… not been entirely yourself recently.’

‘What do you-?’

And finally Kara seemed to realise where they were and what she was doing. Her eyes widened, and for a moment Lena was afraid that the realisation would cause Lex’s barrier to snap back into place and they’d both plummet to their deaths after all. She cursed herself for not insisting that Kara fly them down immediately and tried to calculate whether they could keep their balance on one of the narrow window ledges if they could get to it before Kara’s flight cut out.

But rather than tumbling from the sky, Kara stared back at Lena with a pained expression and eyes rapidly filling with tears of her own.

‘Lena… you saved me.’

This time her laugh sounded more like a real one, if slightly hysterical with the potent cocktail of adrenaline and relief still pumping through her system.

‘Given our current situation, I’m pretty sure that’s my line. Kara, you just threw yourself off a building for me when thirty seconds ago you had no access to your powers. How did you know you were going to fly?’

‘I didn’t. I-’

The truth seemed to catch up with Kara then, and she shook her head in wonder at what had just happened.

‘I really, really didn’t. I just knew that I couldn’t let you fall.’

It was the purest, most sincere declaration of love that Lena had ever received, and she had no idea how to process it in this moment.

She wanted to tell Kara that she would jump off a building for her too.

That she would bend the laws of nature and unravel the very fabric of the universe.

That there was no line in any reality she would not cross, and while she never, ever wanted to hurt another person, if it came down to it she would choose to let the rest of the world crumble to dust if it meant that Kara would be safe.

The words burned inside her heart, but they were too big, too intense to be allowed out into the open air, especially when Lena was still reeling from their near brush with death, and in the end all she managed to get out was:

‘Now who’s the marshmallow?’

Kara smiled into her eyes, infinitely gentle in spite of her newly restored muscles of steel.

‘Still you.’

‘Honestly, I can’t even argue with that right now. I really want to be mad at you for jumping off a building again, but I am just so, so glad not to be a red stain on the sidewalk.’

Kara gathered her in a little closer against her chest, protective even now the danger was past.

‘Me too.’

‘HEY! If you two don’t get your asses back up here so I can hug you for not being dead RIGHT NOW, I’m going to kill you both!’

They looked up to see Alex glaring down at them from the edge of the roof, gesturing emphatically with one hand while the other held the railing in a white knuckled grip.

‘Oh, right, oops! BE RIGHT THERE!’

Kara began to rise easily back up the way they had come, and in another few seconds Lena found her feet on firm ground and she and Kara were being hugged so tightly that the air was squeezed from her lungs. There was no room to draw another breath to replace it, but still she never wanted the moment to end, because this was everything she had always wanted and never had, and she knew that no matter who she was born to or who raised her, this was her family now.

‘Alex, I can’t believe you’re here. How are you here?’

Alex shrugged, flashing a grin that was half cocky, half guilty.

‘I followed you. Well. Technically I had a drone follow you. I’ve had one in place since our text conversation last night actually, because I could see you were too much of a stubborn ass to back down, and I at least wanted to be there give you some back up if things went badly. So when I saw you sitting up here for no apparent reason I had a hunch that it was somewhere worth being. I’ve been hiding behind your solar panels for hours waiting for something to happen. I was sure you were going to find me when you started pacing, we were practically face to face at one point.’

‘Well, I was a little distracted.’

‘Yeah, no shit. And then Kara showed up and I damn near broke cover to get her the hell out of here, and maybe chain her to a radiator for real this time.’

‘Hey!’

‘Sorry Kara, but it was for your own good. You could have been killed.’

‘So could Lena.’

‘I know. I can’t even imagine what I’d have done if anything happened to either of you. Lex so nearly shot you, and then you both fell…’

Alex shuddered at the memory of watching them plummeting over the edge of the roof, but something else in what she said caught in Lena’s mind – the missing piece that had been niggling at her ever since they had touched down.

The last thing she had been aware of before she fell was the ringing gun shot, and a spattering of blood. She had thought in that brief, chaotic moment that she must have been the one who had been shot and was just too much in shock to feel it yet, but here she was, completely unharmed, along with a very definitely not shot Alex and Kara.

Which meant…

‘What about Lex? What happened up here after I fell?’

The happy relief dropped from Alex’s expression, and her gaze slid over Lena’s shoulder to the expanse of rooftop behind her.

Dread pooled in Lena’s stomach.

Had she been keeping her back to it on purpose? Knowing, on some subconscious level, that she didn’t want to see what was there?

But she had to see now.

Lena turned slowly, and was confronted the thing she should have noticed as soon as they had regained the roof, despite the gathering darkness around them.

Lex lay spread-eagled in a spreading pool of blood, a hole no bigger than a dime in his shirt showing where the bullet had passed through him.

Such a tiny thing to end such a big life.

Lena’s legs felt numb as she left Alex and Kara and went to kneel beside her brother, though whether from her recent near-death experience or the sight before her she couldn’t have said for certain. She reached out a tentative hand to check for a pulse at his throat, but there was nothing to find.

He was gone.

She closed her eyes, and a single tear seeped from beneath her lashes to roll down her cheek, a traitorous admission of the grief she was trying so hard not to feel.

Even though she had tried to kill him twice now and had come here with the intention of doing it a third time, it was still hard to believe that Lex could ever really die. He had been such a permanent presence in Lena’s life since early childhood, first as her champion and role model, then as the dark shadow reminding her of all she must never become. She felt strangely untethered without him, as if a strong breeze might just blow her away to scatter to the winds like the seeds of a dandelion clock.

Somewhere in the background she was vaguely aware of Kara saying her name like she was about to come over, only to be stopped by Alex, their murmured voices dropping just too low to make out the words as they – presumably – argued about whether they should join her or give her time to say goodbye alone. She tuned them both out and instead took Lex’s still-warm hand in hers, allowing herself just this one moment of weakness.

I’m sorry it came to this big brother.

The pool of blood around him looked black in the gathering night, as if all the darkness was leaking out of Lex to leave him in death as the boy he once was, and the man he could have been if only he hadn’t let hatred and resentment take him over.

There was so much blood.

It had reached Lena’s knees now, and she could feel the wet stickiness of it soaking into her slacks, but she didn’t try to move away. It didn’t matter. She would never wear them again after this anyway.

She stayed where she was until it was too dark to easily distinguish the blood from the roof surrounding it, or to make out how unnaturally still Lex was lying, as if he might be merely unconscious after all. The idea sent a ripple of unease through her, for all Lena knew it wasn’t true. She sat back on her heels to put a few more inches between them, and became aware of someone else nearby. Her movement must have been taken as a sign that she was done with her silent vigil, because a hand came to rest gently on her shoulder, and she glanced up to find Alex standing over her.

‘I’m sorry Lena.’

‘Don’t be sorry. You saved Kara.’

‘YOU saved Kara. I was trying to save you. I saw Lex aiming at you about to pull the trigger, and I couldn’t let it happen, so I killed him before he could. I’m not sorry I stopped him from shooting you, but he was still your brother, and now he’s dead because of me. I understand if you don’t feel like you can be friends with me anymore after this.’

Lena turned away from the slack, lifeless features of the man who had once been her greatest hero to focus instead on Alex’s tear stained face, grim and still slightly spattered with Lex’s blood. She laid his hand carefully back down by his side, and rose to stand beside Alex.

‘I knew Lex had to die. He was my big brother and part of me will always love him for who he once was to me, but he was never going to stop no matter how securely he was locked away. Killing him was the only option, I knew that when I came up here, and I was prepared to do it. But then... you did it for me. You shot him so that I wouldn’t have to, just like you said you would.’

She met Alex’s eyes through the unshed tears still swimming in her own.

‘Thank you.’

Alex made a soft sound that was almost a whimper and pulled Lena into another tight hug, the motion pressing her face hard into to the armoured vest of her friend’s tactical gear, but she didn’t care. She hugged Alex back just as fiercely, pouring all her gratitude and relief into the embrace.

‘Guess I have two little sisters now, huh? Or... maybe that should be sister in law…?’

Lena’s cheeks heated and she broke the hug to give Alex a stern frown, but she couldn’t help ruining the effect with a slight watery grin at the implication.

‘It is way too soon for that kind of joke Danvers. You know Kara and I have a lot to talk about...’

Her gaze drifted up to where Kara was silhouetted against the full moon, evidently reveling in her newly regained power of flight as she gave them space to clear the air over Alex’s role in her brother’s death, and (hopefully) resisted the urge to practise her super hearing by listening in on their exchange.

‘I’ll take being your sister though. Whatever else happens next, you’re my family, and I don’t want that to change.’

Alex gave her a warm, genuine smile, then reached over to ruffle Lena’s windswept hair like she was an unruly puppy.

‘You know this means you’re going to be Lulu forever now, right?’

Lena rolled her eyes, swatting Alex’s hand away from her head more forcefully than she would have with any other friend, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would be taken as the gesture of affection she intended it to be.

‘Urgh, fine. But if anyone apart from you calls me that, I break their fingers.’

[oakitty]

hiiiiii i just got back from thunderbolts* and I wanted to share my thoughts.

Non-spoilers: Its so fucking good man. If you don't know anything about the comics or Bob in general, keep it that way, don't look anything up beforehand. (though I went in knowing pretty much everything about Bob and still had a blast). also you MUST stay for the post credits scene. its SO worth it.

Also note: I've heard people say its the best movie since endgame, but i didn't like endgame so that didn't really mean much to me. I will say that it is very close to, if not the same quality as CA:TWS. so yeah, its good.

Spoilers under the cut:

I WANT TO GET SOMETHING OUT OF THE WAY FIRST: people complaining that Bucky wasn't the 'leader' and was just another side character don't understand who he is. Bucky is not a leader, he is a follower and a soldier. In my opinion, it would not have made sense if they had made him the leader of the team as it would feel out of character for him.

NOW ON TO THE ACTUAL REVIEW: HOOOOOLY SHIT I LOVE WHAT THEY DID WITH THE SENTRY. As someone who has studied and grown up around people with psychological disorders, and someone with many myself, I fucking love that they didn't vilify him for being mentally ill. (I'm pretty sure he had borderline personality disorder but that's just me being an armchair psychologist) They showed who the actual villains are in the situation: people who exploit and manipulate the mentally ill when they are in a vulnerable state. Valentina was using her knowledge of his history of mental illness as a means to get him to do her bidding (specifically by playing in to his delusions of grandeur and self esteem problems). I feel like there are so many ways this could've gone wrong or been problematic, but in my opinion, they nailed it.

On to Yelena! Yelena, to me, doesn't seem like she's the leader of the thunderbolts. In fact, I don't think there is a leader at all (though if there is it definitely isn't john walker), she was just the lead of the film, thus got the most screen time. Before going in to this movie, I liked Yelena enough. She wasn't one of my faves but I've read a couple of her comics and enjoyed her previous mcu appearances. Now, however? She may have been bumped up to my top 10. I truly believe that she was only doing shadow ops for Valentina because it's the only thing she knew how to do, and I like that her conversation with Alexei at the beginning of the movie make her start to think about how life would be if she was a beloved public figure, like her sister was. Speaking of Nat, it truly felt like she was haunting the narrative in this, even if only lightly. You could feel how her death was still effecting Yelena, and even Alexei, to this day. It never felt like she was given the respect she deserved post-endgame, but now I think she has.

Alexei's conversation with Yelena just before the Void appeared genuinely made me start tearing up. I feel so heartbroken for Yelena: All she wanted, her whole life, was a family. She briefly got the family reunion she wanted in the black widow movie (which, timeline wise, would've been about 2017 I think, so 5 years ago for Yelena), only for it to fizzle out into seemingly very sporadic, seemingly once a year, conversations. Alexei genuinely sounded like he felt bad for what he did to Yelena, and for distancing himself from her. His reasoning made sense, but it doesn't excuse the fact that he still pushed her away after they reunited, and I think he understands that.

The supporting cast of this film was also brilliant. I quite like John Walker as a character (in that he's a government-defending, patriotic douche bag), and I think they utilised him well! I'm glad they didn't try and make him a pleasant person, because he's not. hes a dick. They built upon Ghost/Ava Starr really well as well. She didn't have the most interesting characterisation in Ant-man and the Wasp, which is fair, because she was in a very different place at that time, but I love seeing her as her more confident self, who also happens to do shadow ops. She was super fun, and I'm glad she's gonna be in doomsday because I need to see her interacting with Scott again. I think Bucky was used quite well in this film as well; I know he didn't get as much screen time as people were hoping, but I truly do not care. Out of all of the characters in this film, he's the one who has appeared in the most media. People are very familiar with his backstory and what he's like, so he didn't really need extra characterisation in this film, unlike the other supporting cast, who hasn't been given the opportunity to shine as much in their previous appearances. I do like what they did do with him, however. To me, it seems like he was only really a congressman because someone (probably Sam, lets be honest here) told him to give it a shot. He never felt like he actually wanted to be there, and that it was just something to pass the time because why not.

Additionally, Valentina was a fucking BRILLIANT villain, and I love that, yeah, the thunderbolts/'New Avengers' do kind of own her now. It feels like a reversal of the role Nick Fury played with the OG Avengers. I NEEEEED to see her interact with Wilson Fisk at some point as well because hes my favourite villain of all time (though I am kind of disappointed we didn't get a Fisk cameo in the film). Her assistant was also fun, she definitely gave off the vibes of 'College student in way over their head', and I definitely expect to see her in future titles as well. I think Valentina ended up in a very interesting place at the end of this film, which I'm excited to see what they do with going forward, because I was fucking terrified they were gonna kill her off in this movie (thank GOODNESS they didn't).

LASTLY THE FUCKING POST CREDIT SCENE!!!!!!!! IT WAS SO GOOOOOOOD!!! my theater literally let out a little cheer when the fantastic four logo was revealed (which is a LOT for New Zealand, where cinemas are usually dead silent the entire time). I myself knew it was going to be the life raft or something similar as soon as Yelena said there was an extra terrestrial or whatever ship, but was STILL hyped to see it. I also love that the team is still an actual team, and seemingly live in the tower together. They already seem like more of an actual found family than the Avengers ever did (who felt more like coworkers). I am so ready for Avengers Tower Fics Round 2: Thunderbolts Edition. They have excellent chemistry, though I also doubt they've really had too much to do since the events of Thunderbolts*. The end also kind of makes it seem like Yelena and Bucky are co-leaders, with Yelena being the strategist and Bucky having had the most experience working in super-powered teams/with super powered people. I definitely wouldn't be mad if that were the case.

Oh my god and I can't wait to see what team Sam puts together. I feel like they will definitely overtake the title of the Avengers from the Thunderbolts, and they will just go back to the Thunderbolts name. My prediction is that it will include: Shang-Chi, Black Panther, Namor, Thor, and Ant-Man.

Anyways that was my review! I tried not to sound too much like a marvel shill in this review but I genuinely fucking loved this movie so much and couldn't think of anything bad about it. blease feel free to add your own thoughts on the film in the reblogs and replies, just tag for spoilers if that's the case :3