#ooc: she's choosing violence now

[askmarcille]

Hello again, it's me. The staff yoinker. I always come back and I'm gonna eat your staff when you're not looking

That was YOU?!

DO NOT EAT MY STAFF! It wouldn't taste very good for one, and two, I'll whack you with the cooking pot again!

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter one

Sevika x reader

Warnings for this chapter: violence, gun and knife usage, drinking, gambling mentions, womaniser Sevika, a little bit ooc sevika but I tried I swear, mentions of sex, mentions of prostitution

The streets surrounding the Last Drop were as busy as usual as Sevika and her men walked calmly along on their way for yet another meeting revolving around how to clean up Jinx’s new mess up. All of them dragging their feet in the process of doing so. 

The markets were alive and thriving with various different creatures running around to steal, sample or buy. The one thing the crowd did do in unison however, was separating and dispersing to make a clear path for the terrifying group. All their eyes trained on the leader of the group with fearful yet respectful expressions, knowing that treating Silco’s second in command with anything but was nothing short of a death sentence. 

Sevika enjoyed this, she liked it even. The respect she was given wherever she went was nothing short of thrilling, knowing she had earned it alongside their fear gave her a feeling that working with Vander never could. So she walks with pride along the newly opened path and tries to ignore the way her men slobber and gloat behind her. 

All's going well until she spots it, until she spots you.

You were rarely spotted in public these days, keeping yourself locked away from undercity society seemed to appeal to you nowadays. You stood there in that familiar black dress and cloak, the one that showed enough of your tempting flesh without exposing your weak points. The dress that showed enough of your figure with your cloak to hide any weapons, the dress that once represented your grief but now represents your power.

You stood there looking beautiful under the lighting of the marketplace, you stood there looking calmly at the woman you were currently attempting to purchase some kind of liquid in a glass bottle from. You stood….

You stood directly in the way of Sevika and her group.

You seemed chillingly calm as you turned your head to notice them, having to be made aware by the muscular red headed woman by the side of you that you had brought along with you for protection reasons presumably.

Your eyes narrowed as your head turned and you made eye contact with sevika, your serenely calm expression changing almost noticeably to one of contempt. The twitch of your eye and the slight snarl of your lips are only noticeable to sevika, having learned all your microexpressions from your past encounters.

You simply quirked a brow at the sight of the group and the situation you had found yourself in, but still choosing to not move out of their way. You stand there still a few feet in front of sevika and her group without a spec of fear or respect in your gaze. The onlookers looked at you with looks of anxiety, knowing that anyone else in your position would usually be shot down or beaten without a second thought, especially given the bad blood that ran between you and Silco.

Sevika could feel her men getting antsy at the sight of your clear disrespect towards them, looking at you with faces of anger and disbelief. Still, your eyes remained trained on Sevika and hers kept on yours. 

Sevika battled internally with how to respond to your disrespect, you seemingly doing the same as you both stood still as statues with gazes locked in a heated battle of wills.

Sevika’s men make the first move, one of the skinner ones darted forward with the clear intent to slay you down as his hand grips the handle of his knife. The muscular red headed woman next to you acted in kind as she also moved forward with her hand grabbing the gun that had been strapped to her thigh.

You both stopped the attacks in action. Sevika gripped the collar of the skinny man's shirt and threw him back into her small group huddled behind her while you simply raised your fist and the woman beside you halted and lowered her gun. The skinny man rubbed his bumped head and glared at Sevika while the muscular woman nodded and slotted the gun back into the holdster on her thigh. 

Sevika stared at you while you stared at her before suddenly you were walking towards her, until with a blink of an eye you and the red headed woman had passed the group with barely an inch between you, you exchanged one more cold look to sevika before you had passed her fully. The onlookers let out sighs of relief, knowing that they had missed what could have been a bloodbath.

“What the hell boss?!” the skinny man exclaims as the group continues to walk, trying to figure out their bosses intent “why’d you stop me?”

Sevika turns and gives the man a deadly glare, towering over the skinny man with a snarl on her scarred lips

“You never attack without my command!” Sevika barks out fiercely “understand me?”

“But she was disrespecting us” The skinny man grunted out, although with much less conviction than before when his intimidating boss wasn't burning holes into his head with her glare “we could have taken her out!”

Sevika’s glare harshens at his words and her body seems to become more tense as her mechanical hand reaches out and digs into the front of his shirt and drags him close enough so that he was looking directly into her angered.

“I don’t care if she was spitting directly into your fucking face, you never attack unless i give the command” Sevika snarls out, droplets of her sit landing on the skinny mans face because of her harsh volume and tone “we ain’t here to start fights over petty shit like that, especially with someone with that amount of influence around here, you understand me?”

The skinny man quickly nods his head, knowing he'd severely overstepped his station by questioning her and sorely regretting it. Sevika only grumbled as she threw him back into the group behind her before turning back around and continuing to walk.

“I just don’t understand why she gets a free pass” The man mumbles out with a sulking expression despite the warning looks from the other members of the group gave him “what makes her so special?”

Sevika simply lets out a sigh and continues walking the route to the last drop, not even sparing the man a look over her shoulder.

“Madame obsidian and Silco already have bad blood between them, we can’t afford to make it worse over something petty” Sevika explains stoically as she aggressively rams her shoulder against any onlookers who got in her way, desperate to cover up her previous weakness that they had witnessed “The Madame has too much influence for us to do that currently”

“How much influence can a brothel owner have?” The man scoffs out in disbelief.

“You’d be surprised” sevika grumbles out with a grim expression.

Sevika tunes out the rest of the group's rants and conversations for the rest of the journey. Her mind wandered back to you, the cold look you gave her as you passed. Your eyes, god how they’d changed so radically. What they once held of warmth and curiosity had now disappeared and left nothing but a hollow calmness and cold contempt.

It's true, Sevika enjoyed the respect she received, although sometimes she regrets what she had to give up in order to maintain it.

Your eyes looked so different from the night you had first met.

——————————-past———————————

It had been a great night for sevika.

She’d successfully overseen a large amount of shimmer making its way into Piltover, meaning Silco had a hefty bag of gold coins waiting for her on his desk when she returned. She’d decided to spend it on her usual vices as she made her way to one of the rundown bars near to her apartment, somewhere she could wind down away from the drama of The Last Drop.

She’d drunk whiskey neat and gambled the night away, cheating her way into winning most of her games. This, mixed with her sore winner attitude, made it so her opponents left in a huff as they’d slam their cards down and refuse to play with her anymore.

This made her consider packing the cards up, settling her tab at the bar and going to babbettes to pick some sweet looking girl to release her excessive energy onto. But something stopped her as she approached the bar to pay her tab.

She spotted you sitting at the bar, sipping some kind of sickly sweet looking concoction. Your dark clothing was dirty and ripped but that did nothing to distract from your lustrous figure and obvious beauty beneath the messed up hair and exhaustion. 

“Don’t you think it's a little dangerous for someone like you to be out here alone?” sevika asks stoically as she sits on the bar stool beside you “especially at night”

You don’t even look at her as you sip your drink before opening your mouth to respond.

“That a threat or an offer?” you ask calmly with a raised brow as you turn to face her

“Your choice” sevika offers stoically as she leans back in her seat to observe you, locking eyes with you

She eyes you with barely concealed lust, eyes obviously trailing from your muddy boots all the way up to your eyes. She notices a considerable amount of curiosity within them that lingers as you watch her trail your body.

“I’ll take offer” you say as your head tilts slightly in curiosity, similar to a puppy dogs, Sevika remarks to herself internally “I’ve had enough threats for one night”

Sevika’s face becomes slightly smug at your acceptance before signaling to the bartender for two of the same drinks.

“What are you doing drinking alone?” Sevika asks as she turns her attention back to you before eyeing your dirty torn clothing “on the run or something?”

“It's the undercity” you point out calmly as you sip your fresh drink “everyone’s running from something down here”

“That's vague” Sevika states somewhat suspiciously “trying to keep yourself a mystery or something?”

“It's not exactly smart to make yourself known to Silco’s right hand woman, now is it?” you point out with a raised brow and narrowed eyes

Sevika is slightly surprised at your correct observation, having it not exactly been public information where Sevika’s place was within Silco’s scheme at the moment. So having you guess it so quickly was certainly intriguing and almost suspicious.

“Clocked it when I heard your voice, you and your boss have had a few meetings at Madame Emerald’s brothel” you explain calmly when noticing her surprised look “you talk loudly in meetings”

“You're one of Emeralds girls?” Sevika asks, slightly confused on why she hadn't seen you working the floor on one of her various visits.

“I’m the Madame’s assistant” you answer calmly as you sip your sweet drink.

Sevika eyes your messy and dishevelled appearance before huffing out a slightly mocking laugh.

“You must be one of the madame’s favourites” Sevika assumes as she sips her whiskey, the implication thick in the air between the two of you.

“It isn't what your thinking” you clarify with a slight scoff “I don’t do brothel work”

“That so?” sevika says with a mocking tone “Then what do you do?”

“I told you” you point out calmly “i’m an assistant”

“Assistants a bit vague, don’t you think?” Sevika asks with a scoff

“So ask so i can clarify” you say in a challenging manner, a manner that would usually have sevika choking out anyone else who used it.

“Go ahead” Sevika says with a scoff and a challenging tone that rivalled your own “what do you do as her assistant”

You smirk at this as you place your empty glass on the bar and you lean forward slightly 

“I assist Madame Emerald with day to day tasks as well as meetings, business ventures, money handling” you list off calmly as you eye her curiously

“So basically you're her second in command?” sevika asks with a raised brow and an almost condescending tone “might as well be running the damn empire”

“Isn’t that what you do for Silco?” you fire back in a way that has Sevika questioning if your flirting back or if you're genuinely trying to pick a fight with her.

“Suppose so” Sevika states as her eyes narrow slightly and her tone becomes mocking “don’t think Silco would like that comparison though, considering old emerald isn’t particularly good at anything besides playing with the hearts of desperate men”

“Madame Emerald is smarter than this place gives her credit for” you shoot back defensively with a firm tone, your brows furrowing in a way that sevika finds just delightful

The bartender comes over to collect the empty glasses and you reach into your pocket to pull out a few coins for payment, only to have sevika slap your hand away before instructing the bartender to put it on her tab. This causes you to raise your brow at her.

“What exactly are you aiming for out of this conversation?” you ask bluntly as you put your coins away, becoming all too aware of the situation.

“What makes you think I'm aiming for something?” Sevika replies with an amused tone 

“Because you don't even know my name, yet your sat here talking to me and buying me drinks” you point out with a suspicious tone and narrowed eyes “no one does that in the undercity without wanting something”

Sevika lets out a breathy chuckle at your accusation before grabbing one of her cigarettes from her pocket and lighting it up.

“I think you know exactly what I want from you” Sevika states with a smug tone, blowing smoke gently in your face

“You seem pretty confident in how you think the nights gonna end” you scoff out 

“sweetheart , i don't think” Sevika says smugly “i know how tonights gonna end”

This elicits an irritated reaction from you as you let out a scoff before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you” you state bluntly with a firm tone as you lean away from her, temporarily breaking the intense eye contact the two of you had been sharing

“What makes you so sure?” Sevika asks smugly

“Madame Emerald and Silco are business rivals and have a very intense hatred of each other” you point out with an obvious tone “sleeping with her assistant doesn't make you look particularly loyal”

Sevika bristles slightly at your words, always finding it extremely uncomfortable whenever her loyalty was called into question, especially after the Vander incident. She brushes those feelings away quickly with a mocking chuckle.

“Not gonna say that hasn't crossed my mind, but Silco doesnt tell me who i can and can’t fuck” sevika states smugly as she leans in slightly “so your free game in my mind, sweetheart”

“____” you state your name as you stand from the bar stool, correcting her on her pet name “my name, not sweetheart”

“Leaving so soon?” Sevika almost sounds disappointed as you get ready to leave, tipping the rest of her drink down her throat

“You’ll see me around” you state in a way that almost sounds like a promise as you make your way out of the bar, the interaction forcing a small, bashful smile  onto your lips.

Sevika sports her own grin at your words as she lets out an amused huff before slamming some coins down on the bar to pay her tab and getting up to leave.

——————————-present—————————-

Sevika shakes her head to rid her thoughts of you with a grumble and clenched fists as she approaches the Last Drop with the intention to get the work done and go home to drown her sorrows in some kind of bottle, hoping slightly that silco wouldn’t hear of your clear sign of disrespect. She can’t keep protecting you from his and his men’s wraith if you didn’t try and at least act civil with them.

Then again, after all they’d done, she’s not sure she’d act civil either.

Her mind thinks of the girl she had met in that bar, the one she’d determinedly pursued and the one who shut her attempts down but in a way that only made her want you more.

She thinks of the woman who you were now, cold and calculating with anger and sorrow behind every action.

How times had changed for the two or you.

Chapter two here

[sirensea14]

SMILING CRITTERS X BULLIED!READER

Scenario: you are friends with the smiling critters and one day, they found out you were being bullied (lets say there are (3) bully npc's in the cartoon lol)

These Cartoon counterparts seem to be a bit... ooc...

Warning: bullying, violence, "worst case scenario" added for dogday, craftycorn roasting, hoppy choosing violence and rejecting humanity, catnap being catnap, writing may be a bit sloppy and weird lol

A/n: this had got to be one of the most random ideas i had

DogDay

As the leader of the Smiling Critters and your friend, he tries to resolve this in a peaceful manner. He confronts the bullies with you tagged along and attempts to make them apologize to you and wants them to compensate by cleaning the school, canteen and the garden by a whole week.

Of course, the bullies won't do it, so he goes to the teachers to address the problem.

The bullies are punished and will have cleaning duties for more than a week.

Worst case scenario (because i wanted to /j):

If the bullies resorted to violence in an attempt to scare DogDay, he fought back and defended you. You ran for help but one got out of his reach and punched you, he bit the one/s he's fighting and rushed at your aid and barked at the bully. "DON'T YOU DARE HURT MY FRIEND AGAIN!!"

The bullies got scared and ran to the clinic but DogDay barked and chased them until they were punished by the nurse and teachers.

You asked DogDay if he was okay, he grinned at you with a thumbs up, saying, "Of course I am! I will never let anyone dim you down!"

You smiled at his conviction, you were happy that you had such a sunny friend.

Bobby BearHug

After knowing you were being bullied, she immediately went to confront them. You were so scared and you didn't want her to get hurt, but she reassured you she can handle it and winked.

Reaching the bullies' spot, she confronted them. The bulkies glared at you and you cowered behind the bear's back, "So i heard you were bullying my friend? You better pay for that. You must apologize to my friend, now" She hissed, crossing her arms. The bullies simply laughed.

Bobby didnt hesitate to punch the bully on his face. His nose bled. Bobby was a sweet soul, but she's a bear, a predator, a tough cookie to crack. "DO I HAVE TO REPEAT WHAT I SAID?! APOLOGIZE TO MY FRIEND. NOW."

The bullies apologized while trembling in fear. "You can go back to whatever business you are doing now," she said in sweetly, though, there was venom to it, "Dare try to bully my friend once more and I will make sure to tear your limbs apart, skin you alive and--"

You tapped Bobby's shoulder before she went on full detail. "Whoops!" She giggled, scratching the back of her head looking at you. "Now, GO HOME." She pointed out at them, "Please!" of course, she never forgets her manners. That's not very Bobby if she didnt mind her manners, even to her enemies.

KickinChicken

Oh expect this bird to not handle things peacefully, especially with you being hurt. You were away from him, doing your own things. He went to the bullies, but of course, he can't go alone. He knows he can't handle them so he asked DogDay and Hoppy to hop along with him.

Hoppy looked like she was about to murder someone... a baseball bat was with her. DogDay and Kickin talked it out first with the bullies. But when they wouldn't budge, Hoppy stepped in and handed Kickin the bat. "NOW, WHO WANTS TO GO FIRST?" He tapped the bat to his wing. DogDay was against it, but didn't protest, Hoppy was trying not to smirk at the bullies.

The 3 critters and the bullied were headed to your way. You got startled and scared but DogDay, Kickin and Hoppy immediately went to your side. "Now, APOLOGIZE." Kickin forced a smile at them, and they apologized to you.

After that, DogDay took them in for their punishment. Hoppy taked the bat back so that she can go back playing baseball with the others. You thabked Kickin for his action and he blushed, brushing it off as "nothing". You and him sat by a tree and watched the other critters play on the field.

Hoppy Hopscotch

"Wait--Hoppy!" Yoy tried to stop Hoppy from going to the bullies. But she immediately scolded you for being a coward for not telling her this, you explained they threatened you but she didn't listen. "THOSE MFS ARE NO MATCH FOR ME," she spat on the ground.

As soon as you twto spotted the bullies, she didn't waste any time and immediately launched her fists at them. Knocking them off guard. She didnt let any of them escape her wrath. And then she grabbed your hand to run and leave them alone in the open.

CraftyCorn

Crafty was aware of it. "Why aren't you telling me this? We're friends!" She yelled at you. You explained they were going to hurt you if--"Let's go to them!" Crafty smatched your hand and went to the bullies.

Before you knew it, you were corned by the bullies. Taunting and laughing at you two. At first, fear was on ghe unicorn's face but it immediately changed to anger. "You're bullying my friend! You know you shouldn't be doing that!"

"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it, horse piss? Your friend's quite a coward and seems to be undeserving to be here." One of the bullies taunted her.

"YOU INSULTING MY FRIEND SHOWS HOW MUCH YOU'RE SO INSECURE ABOUT YOURSELF, IT TELLS A LOT ABOUT YOU, YKNOW?" Crafty snapped.

"COWARD. UGLY. USELESS. TRASH. GOOD FOR NOTHING. YOUR BIRTH WAS A MISTAKE." She added. Then you two turned around and left, you can tell that crafty was so angry because of her trembling hooves. The bully targeted by Crafty's words cried while his other two friends mocked him for being a crybaby.

Moments later--"Ah! I'm sorry! I didnt mamage to make them apologize to you! Sorrysorrysorry--!" Crafty apologized to you. "No, no! It's okay, Crafty! What you said was way more satisfying," in all silliness, you stuck your tongue out. Crafty giggled and she went back to pher canvas,ready to paint another new piece,"oh? Whats that called?" You asked as she sketched out what seems to be shadows looming over a figure protecting a smaller one behind it, there were separated figures at their opposite side, seemingly the figure with shadiws protecting the smaller one from attackers.

"Oh this? I call it... 'Happy Snappy!"

PickyPiggy

Picky was uneasy that day. Ever since she knew you were being bullied, she wasted no time to gather all the trash and dump it anywhere where the bullies would have been to. "HEHEHEHEHE..." The bullies ended up getting scolded by the teachers for dumping 'their' trash around. Pickypiggy snickered behind a tree, watching them from afar. She was quite fast and undetectable.

The bullies bags' had trash in them, their armchairs full of waste.

Then she tricked them into meeting up in a corner, she had full trash cans up on the roof, Hoppy and Kickin assisting her. Then they dumped the pile at them. You took the chance to run and report it to the teachers.

The trio fist bumped in victory and Picky was grateful for their help. She went back to you as you told her the weird thing that happened to the bullies--while eating cookies together.

Bubba Bubbaphant

The smart guy of the group. He was devastated at the fact that you didnt told him anything about your situation. He confronted them in full glasses nerd mode on, you came up to him and told him not to challenge them any further. He ended up getting beaten up by the bullies, he wasnt able to fight. Good thing DogDay was patrolling the area nearbt you.

Bubba was sent to a clinic, but he talked to DogDay first for a special request.

The next day, "man, this room sucks." One of the bullies complained. "What are we doing here anyway?" One of them groaned. They were in detention for two weeks, "How are we supposed to go to our classes now?"

Just in time, Bubba walked inside the room, "Okay class, I'll be your teacher for the next two weeks." He sneered at them. The bullies groaned at him as he wrote down a hell of math on the board. "This is your punishment for bullying a friend of mine, bear with it, losers."

CatNap

And of course, CatNap. He was a sleepyhead of a friend, when he knew you were being bullied, he simply 'slept'.

By nighttime, he went one by one to the bullies' houses. Scaring them and making them scream so loud. He was giving them nightmares with the message of "VIOLENCE OR SILENCE?" This went on for a long time until they gave up bullying you and went on full silent mode.

CatNap still haunts them even if they stopped bullying you.

[yanderes-galore]

9.) "The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

romantic Jace

34.) "No one else understands me except you!"

Platonic Luke

Reader had known the boys for her whole life. Reader kinda acts like a boy. She has shorter hair maybe shoulder length? And Jace when they were children would claim they were already married and she was like “um nah” and now that they are older Jace is demanding her to marry him saying “you can’t disobey me, I am your future king and you will be my queen” so reader decides to run away but like catches her and says something like “your the only person who understands how I feel” then drags her back while apologizing and tells Jace what happened. So Jace does something to her legs to make her un able to walk and run away.

Sure! I just hope I get characterization right :') This primarily focuses on Jace if that's okay.

Yandere! Romantic Jacaerys + Platonic! Lucerys Prompts 9 + 24

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" - Jace

"No one else understands me except you!" - Luke

Pairing: Romantic (Jace)/Platonic (Luke)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, The two manipulate each other, Delusional behavior, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal, Medieval sexism/gender roles, Mature themes, Manipulation, OOC Jace, Cutting of Achilles Tendon, Forced relationship/companionship.

When you had met the two princes, you were a young princess yourself. However you were not like most princesses, choosing to sneak around and act like a boy instead. Such a thing wasn't common in the period... but your parents could never seem to stop you.

You used to play with them all the time as children despite the rumors that surrounded their birth. You were about the same age as Jace and Rhaenyra was pleased your parents allowed you to play with them. It was nice to not be judged for once... in return, Rhaenyra never minded your more boyish behavior.

Since you three were young, Jace had been attached to you. His brother, Luke, had seen you as an older sibling or friend. Jace, however, saw you as his future queen as the years went by.

Jace was told he was to sit upon the Iron Throne, while later on Luke was to sit himself on the throne of Driftmark. Neither of them were betrothed, Rhaenyra was still figuring such a thing out. You weren't betrothed either...

Making Jace's heart set on the idea.

"You and I are destined to rule!" Jace would always say to you, a smile on his face as he held your hands. "You have no betrothed, right? We'd be the perfect king and queen...."

Luke had always been one to support his brother. While Jace would ramble on and on about weddings and being the perfect prince for you... Luke would encourage it. You, on the other hand?

You didn't like to think of marriage.

While Jace was always excited about becoming king, ever since you were all young you resented your role of princess. You didn't like being wed off, you didn't like bearing heirs... you wished for a different life. Another role that wasn't playing princess.

Wanting to change roles was a sentiment you shared with Luke. The younger prince also didn't like the idea of ruling Driftmark. This was something that made you see Luke as a brother of your own... you were so similar... even if he kept encouraging his brother.

He encouraged Jace not only because it made the older prince happy... but it also brings you closer to Luke.

While you tried to distance yourself from the idea, Jace was hooked on the idea of courting you. To the point he even brought it up to his mother when he was younger. Rhaenyra was hesitant... but Jace looked so set on marrying you ever since you two were kids.

Such behavior only persisted as you three got older. You had tried to grow into your role, listening to your parents and wearing dresses. However, you never wanted anything big... you'd wear a dress you could move freely in.

Despite trying to look the part, you were still against marriage. You often told your parents about this... but of course they didn't understand. After all, royal families are often concerned with the succession of their bloodline.

You were still close allies with Jace and Luke. You often visited them but... you noticed Jace wasn't as intent on being flirty. He gave you a few thoughtful looks and grins, but now outright courting. Such a thought confused you... after all these years he's given up such fantasies?

It was a welcome change for you...

Until your parents announced that they had spoken to Queen Rhaenyra of Dragonstone... and betrothed you to Prince Jacaerys.

The news devastates you. Sure, Jace and you are childhood friends... but you didn't want to marry him. However... the news certainly explained why he had such a knowing gaze towards you. You're sent into shock and worry about the future.

But eventually... you end up meeting with Prince Jacaerys another day to discuss future relations... much to your dismay.

-🛡-

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this..." Jace whispers, holding your hand softly before kissing the knuckles. "You've managed to get even more beautiful, princess."

You sit with him and Luke in a room as your parents discuss with one another. Jace wears a smiles on his face as he gaze at you. You're his queen... you have been since he met you... he just knows it.

You look away with a frown, pulling your hand away. Jace seems surprised by your reaction and steps closer. Luke notices your hesitancy and pities it... he knows you don't really want this role... but you make his brother happy.

"Princess?" Jace whispers, stepping closer to hold your waist. "Are you nervous...? You know I would do everything in my power to treat you right as king... you're my future queen, after all."

"Jace..." You answer, a sad look in your eye. " You've been at this for years... don't you know I don't like the idea?"

Jace looks at you with a frown, pulling you close despite your squirming. Luke feels torn when he sees your sadness. He cares about both of you... but there was no way to win you both over, was there?

"Are you scared of when we consummate our marriage?" He whispers, making you freeze for a moment. "Or that others will judge us? There's no need... I won't let you be scared." You feel him kiss your cheek... and you push him away.

"I-I'm sorry... I just need to leave for a moment." You admit, stepping back. You go to leave the room, but Jace grips onto your hand.

"My lady..." Jace calls, tone oddly seeming to hide a warning. "Please don't leave... we can make this work!"

"Let go...." You whimper, Jace stepping closer to you as Luke goes to stand up.

"You aren't disobeying your future king, are you?" Jace whispers in your ear. "For my whole life I've wanted you as my queen... mother has given me such a chance. Why do you resist?"

The moment you hear a growl in his tone, you break away from his grasp and exit the room quickly. Jace calls your name but you don't listen as you rush down the halls. You weren't sure where you were running to, you just knew you needed to leave Jace.

Eventually you come across the gardens and find somewhere to sit. Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of marrying Jace... not in the good way, unfortunately. You're scared of such an event.

You're so lost in the fear that you don't notice the young prince Luke approaching you.

"Princess...?" Luke asks hesitantly, the young boy sitting beside you. "Are you alright?"

"No..." You whisper, the small sound making the prince's heart ache a little. "I never wanted this... I don't want to be a queen...."

Luke frowns, remembering that you both hate the roles your parents gifted you. He didn't want to rule Driftmark. While he has pity for your predicament...

He too wants to keep you close, just like his brother.

"I know..." Luke sighs, eyes looking at you with sympathy. "No one else understands me except you... we're already like siblings..."

You smile softly at the young prince... but notice the darkness in his gaze.

"Which is why I can't wait for you to be my sister-in-law..." Luke smiles, your heart dropping at his words.

"My Lady!" Jace calls, anger in his voice. You freeze, wanting to run, but Luke grabs your arm tightly. You begin to realize Luke betrayed you for his brother...

Allowing Jace to pull you into his grasp tightly. Dragon blood does indeed run deep in the two princes despite their parentage... why else would they be so possessive of you?

"Queens shouldn't run from their kings..." Jace growls softly, nails digging into your skin. Luke begins to reconsider his decisions when he sees Jace slowly reach for his dagger. "Good kings need to teach their wives to listen, don't they?"

You feel yourself gently pushed onto the ground as Jace sits on your legs. You struggle but Jace orders Luke to hold you still. Jace, your king, holds a sadistic darkness in his eyes as he holds your legs.

"I'll make sure you never run from me again..." Jace whispers, kissing your forehead softly. You feel a sharp blade by your heel and try to move... only to be restrained.

"A wound on your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" Jace grins dangerously as you feel the blade begin to bite your flesh.

"You'll never run from us again... welcome to the family, my beloved." Jace coos as Luke reluctantly covers your mouth.

The two make sure your screams are unable to be heard by your parents as the blade digs into your flesh... just one tendon cut free to hinder your movement...

By the end of it you'll be a bird with clipped wings... forever the spouse of a half-dragon.

[reve-writes]

—if i'm dead to you [1]; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 1,5k words. ʚ chapter two. | you betrayed him before, resulting in a failed mission and a preventable death. years later, you cross paths. ʚ angst. profanity; violence; non-canon lore; reader murdered someone; very loosely set in re4. ʚ a/n this will have a second part! i don't write for leon a lot so he may be ooc, sorry for that. i just wanted to write some lovers-to-enemies angst while being knee-deep in leon brainrot.

"I should kill you," he theeatens. You feel the hard muzzle of his pistol on the small of your back, almost feel the coldness of the metal against your skin despite the jacket you're clad in.

God, you missed him.

"Leon," you greet casually, even as you put your hands up in a surrendering manner. He presses the gun harder—a warning. One you're choosing to ignore. "Come on, puppy. We both know you're not going to shoot."

His voice is cold when he responds, venom lacing every syllable. "Do we?"

Your heart clenches, but then again you deserve every bit of anger he throws your way. His icy tone feels so much worse than any wound you've ever had in your line of work. Each words lodging deep inside you, like a bullet without an exit wound.

“Leon,” you try again. His name flows smoothly out of your lips as if you've been saying it your whole life. Even now, as he's threatening you, your body seems to remember him anyway—gravitate towards the pads of his fingers, the warmth of his torso. You thrum with the yearning to feel his skin on yours again as much as you don't deserve to. “We can talk like civilised people.”

“We're past civilised for a while now,” he retorts, but the pressure loosens. You take your chances and slowly spin on your heels to face him. A mistake on your part. Your heart swells at the sight of him. His blond hair, sweeping over his ears. The blue in his eyes, hardened from years of experience as an agent. The set of his jaw. Your hand twitches with the desire to touch him, feel his lips against yours once more.

What do you even say?

Apologising seems like a callous move. You didn't bother to apologise five years ago. It changes nothing even if you do apologise now, because you'll do it all over again. Instead of spinning more lies or desperately trying to bury the elephant in the room, you opt for the truth.

“I'm glad you're well, Leon.” You swallow, trying to clear the scratchiness of your voice from the lump forming in your throat.

His brows furrow. His gun is still aimed towards you, but his hand is trembling ever-so-slightly. “Don't do that.”

Your head tilts to the side. “Do what?”

“Try and act as if you're not the biggest fucking liar I've ever met,” he snarls. “Fuck this. Fuck you.”

It stings. Every word acts like lacerations on the fickle little thing beating inside your chest. Your hand shakes, but you flash him a tight-lipped smile instead.

“I suppose I deserve that.”

“And a whole lot more.”

A beat passes, and then two. It doesn't seem like he's going to serve you your retribution.

You're taking in his appearance and he looks at you, so many thoughts racing in his head. Too many to pick out just one. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the roiling anger in his veins—to keep the red at the edge of his vision instead of blinding him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You know I can't answer that.”

“The least you can do is answer my questions.” He grits his teeth. “Then again, whatever you say is most likely a lie.”

“I'll take my leave, then.” I'm glad I get to see you.

He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Goddammit, ___. Are you really not going to say anything?”

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms. “We don't need to do this. I'll stay out of your way.”

“What about Tracy?”

The name brings up a clear picture. Pig-tailed brunette. Fifteen years old. Freckles dusting her cheeks. The gap between her front teeth when she smiled.

Tracy Miller.

That was the name printed on your mission file five years ago. Your mission partner was Leon Kennedy. Both of you were newbies in the field, recently recruited after what went down in Raccoon City. It was supposed to be an easy mission, anyway. You were starry-eyed, excited to spend a little more time with him, giddy for experience in this godforsaken field.

Your mission was simple. The fifteen-year-old prodigy created a strain of virus. You were supposed to bring her in for questioning. They were planning to confiscate the research.

Until you were approached by your current employer—a group of self-righteous assholes whom you've caught the attention of. You were presented with an offer, but it was never much of a choice. Kill Tracy, get rid of the possibility that the virus could ever soread. You would never say yes. Never in a million years would you have aimed your gun at a helpless child.

Until they mentioned him.

It didn't take much for you to throw your morals to the backburner when it came to Leon. He was their leverage. If you didn't work for them and dispose of Tracy, then he would die. Their words over the static of your phone are the start of this nightmare.

How sure are you that you can protect him from us?

The name Tracy brings up an image. A loud ringing in your ears. The thud of her body hitting the ground. The click of your gun as it fell to the floor, a bullet missing from its magazine, lodged in the girl's skull.

You steel yourself, echoing empty words you don't quite believe in. “I did what needed to be done.”

You walked away from him. Your shoes knocking against the docks of the lake. As soon as he's out of sight, your knees buckle and you fall. Blinking your eyes, you realise that you're crying.

You don't have time for this.

Not in the middle of an infected village where its residents can appear anytime, hurling an axe at your skull or brandishing a pitchfork, fully intending to kill. There's a mission to accomplish.

Dammit.

You're filled with contradictions. Even as you curse to yourself, standing in front of him like a deer caught in the headlights, there's a part of you that lights up when you bump into him again. It overshadows the rational part—the one that dreads another confrontation, risking the exchange of words as sharp as daggers into each other's hearts.

He immediately levels his handgun at your chest. You drop yours.

“Shit. I didn't know you were here, Leon.” This is one truth that you can offer to him.

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

You sigh, spotting a hostile in your periphery ready to lob a machete at you. “Duck.”

Even if you're the one who cried wolf, the one who once served a lie so grave on a platter without batting an eye, his body responds, immediately falling to a crouch before he can even think about it. It's how the two of you operate in Raccoon City and the countless missions that follow after that. Complete trust. That's why your betrayal feels like a thousand cuts to him.

You curse under your breath, side-stepping the machete. You swoop down for your dropped gun, shooting the infected resident three times before he falls to the ground. Your gunshot is loud, drawing everyone and their mothers out of their houses.

“Great,” Leon complains under his breath.

It's a dance you remember. The way your body so naturally presses up against him to cover each other's backs. The familiar little commands the two of you exchange as you take down enemy after enemy.

“She's just eating my bullets!” He quips, dropping an empty magazine out with one hand, the other already pulling out a new one out to reload. “Shit.”

You chuckle. Suddenly, you're back in Raccoon City again. Two naive twenty-something-year-olds keeping each other alive. Leon and his quirky comments. You and your light-hearted laughs.

The last shot rings and the two of you let out a relieved sigh.

“Great work,” he says before he can stop himself, falling into old habits.

You smile—that million dollar smile that does unhealthy things to his heart. Do it again. A voice in his head says. He frowns, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to shake off the stupor that remains after the fight.

Tracy Miller. He'll never forget the day he failed the young girl. The day you broke his trust. He swears he hates you. He wants you dead for what you did.

“You're not half bad yourself, Kennedy,” you answer.

He turns around, going to sow his rewards after all the shooting. “Stay out of my way. I won't hesitate the next time.”

The coldness returns to him. You tighten your jacket as if it can help shield you from the chill, but this is a small price you have to pay for his life. You prefer to have him absolutely loathe you than buried dead six feet underground.

You wince, walking away. “Take care, puppy.”

The nickname slips out of you and his step falters for a second. You notice—you notice every fucking thing he does bevause his presence alone heightens all your senses.

It gives you hope, a small one—one you don't deserve. Maybe. Just maybe. He'll forgive you someday.

[ ]

[stale-trash]

Hi, of that's, can I please have yandere Jade x reader who tries to break up with her? (Headcanon). How would Jade react and what would she do in this situation?

I am assuming you mean Jade from Honkai Star Rail. If not, I'm sorry!!

cw: yandere/possessive behavior, very questionable behavior, implied violence, possible ooc

A/N: I have yet to play any of the quests she's in (╥﹏╥). I hope I did her justice!!

Bold of you to even assume you have the option to break-up with her. No matter how you end up in a relationship with her - willing or unwilling - your fate is sealed. 

Jade knows every aspect of her desires, from their depth to their origins. When she sets her mind to something, precious little can get in her way.

How she acquired you determines how she reacts to your ill-advised statement. If you are in a contract with her, she would take some time to remind you of your position - how truly nice you have it.  

It'd start small, like having you organize paperwork in the pawnshop where you'd get a first hand look at Lady Bonajade's dealings. Many desires are laid bare in front of you; some are honorable, others deplorable, and both are equally pondered upon by the lavishly clad woman. It’s hard to understand the logic behind most of the dealings, yet you remembered the time you occupied their positions - the way your desires slipped past your lips to be scrutinized by Lady Bonajade. 

You also get to see what happens to those who step out of line - more specifically, the bureaucratic aftermath. The written records of their punishment, outstanding debt, and next steps are so clinical regardless of the situation. It doesn't matter if they were fighting for their life or attempting to pull a fast one - there was no leeway. 

There was no reason for Jade to drape you in expensive fabric and opulent jewels. There was no reason for Jade to have you by her side doing menial tasks. There was no reason for Jade to suffocate you in her cold embrace and colder favor.

There was no reason for Jade to treat you like a lover. All the contract specified in its convoluted wording was that you're hers to use as she sees fit. 

If you somehow aren't apologizing for your behavior and willingly accepting whatever humiliating punishment she has in mind within a week, Lady Bonajade has no problem pushing you further. 

You'd lose all of her "favor" slowly until you're nothing but another IPC grunt. You won't be in any threat of dying, but there are many things worse than death prowling the cosmos. Don't worry, it won't be anything Jade can't fix given the appropriate price. 

All you need to do is apologize, and beg for her favor once again. Of course, a benevolent woman such as her would be more than willing to reevaluate your contract - though, it is in your interest to note that this is a one-time offer. If you were to repeat this mistake again, the punishment wouldn’t be so light. 

If you aren't in a contract with her, that would change. This relationship wouldn’t just end because you will it. But she'll let you slip from her embrace for now.

Jade is not above dismantling every aspect of your life piece by piece until you come crawling back. You can choose how much is destroyed - your social life, finances, career prospects, or even the lives of your close ones - by walking back into that pawnshop of hers.

She doesn't ask for what you seek nor what you desire - those are irrelevant in the face of her own. No, she asks if you've come back to your senses, a pet name rolling off her lips oh-so-naturally as if she hadn't constructed your downfall.

A contract is placed in front of you, the written words melting together into an indecipherable mess. Her signature was the only legible word in the entire document, with a blank spot ready for your own. 

You may gain everything you've naively wished for many years ago with a few strokes of ink - insurmountable wealth, a lavish lifestyle, and a lack of mundane worries - but gilded chains are still chains.

[e-vay]

Evay QA Bulk Post 6

Here's another batch of questions.

Again, these do not include Domino or Phlox questions as I plan on addressing those in a separate post. Sorry for the delay on Phloxino questions, I just need to finish the final chapter of their story first.

Thank you all for reaching out ☺️

PERSONAL/MISC ASKS

toonfan91 asked: What is your favorite retro video game system, what would you say is your favorite retro game to play?

A: My favorite consoles would be the Super Nintendo, Gamecube, and the Gameboy Advance SP. Those are all so nostalgic for me and were integral to my childhood. I had the Sega Genesis as well but I didn't end up playing it nearly as much as the other 3. Top three of my favorite retro games would be Sonic 3 & Knuckles, Ms Pacman and Super Mario World.

Anon asked: omg! i wondered if cheese was just something you were super about in your teen years im so glad that cheese is still the #1 fave 🧀

A: Hahaha! Aww, you remembered that about me! Yes, I'm still a cheese fiend, forever and always!!!

Anon asked: Any writing tips and/or subversions on common tropes? - ✍🏻

A: I've said this before but I recommend really focusing on your character building. I personally believe if you can get the audience to care about your characters, the rest will work out. As far as subverting tropes, I'd just say don't default to what's easy. I remember writing a script in high school and it involved a "it was all a dream" ending and my teacher actually rolled his eyes at me and said "Don't do this to your audience. It's an easy out for you and a disservice to them" and that moment has stuck with me forever. So though I don't have exact advice for you, I'd just say keep your audience in mind. You want them to be happy that they read your story, not rolling their eyes. (You're a member of your audience too, so make sure you're happy with your story as well!)

Anon asked: Will your kid be named aroura?

A: Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to name my future daughter Aurora. Who knows if I'll ever have a kid and even if I do, I am not sure what their name will be. Aurora is definitely still one of my favorite names and I'd love to name my child that, but it will depend on what best fits that human :)

Anon asked: have you seen the until dawn remaster?? i know you did a drawing of that long ago!! have you ever drawn the actual characters? and also, how would you match the sonic characters to the until dawn characters? 😳?

A: I have seen the remaster but I haven't played it! It looks like such an improvement from what I've seen, and I honestly loved the original. I drew Ashley and Chris once, but for the life of me I can't find that file! It was so long ago, it probably wouldn't look any good now anyway haha. Hmm, it's a little hard matching Sonic characters to the Until Dawn characters without making them OOC. I guess if I had to pick, and with the caveat that this is a weird AU and characters are not 100% canon-accurate, I'd cast Amy as Sam (kind, gets along with everyone, doesn't like violence but can absolutely kick ass), Tails as Chris (because of his intelligence, his love for tech and his overall positive, good-natured spirit), Rouge as a mix of Jessica and Emily (covers the bases of intelligent, seductive, resourceful). I'm torn about casting Sonic as either Josh or Mike. Josh would of course be an unhinged version of Sonic which could be fun to explore but if you ignore the unhinged part, he still really suits Sonic as he is the core of the friend group and he is torn between fun-loving and masking his real emotions. Mike I feel like is a little more of the 'lead character' role that Sonic tends to fall into and his fear of commitment is pretty spot-on to our blue boy hahaha. Knuckles would be Matt because they're athletic and loyal. I'd probably choose Blaze for Ashley because of how polite and serious she can be, but I acknowledge it's not the best fit.

@bigklingy asked: Does your Lego Amy have a Sonic, like Duck Amy does? 

A: I don't own an official Sonic minifig yet. All I have is this cursed knockoff hahaha. One day she'll have a real Sonic for her to love.

-

MISC SONIC ASKS

Anon asked: What elements could the Sonic cast bend based on their unique traits?

A: Sonic would be air because he is the wind. Tails would be lightning due to his affiliation with technology. Knuckles would be earth, obvious reasons (though fire works too, especially if you take into consideration the flames of disaster haha). Amy would be fire, due to her passion and also if you read her fortune cards guide, she says her favorite of the elements in her deck is 'fire.'

Anon asked: Quick question, have you ever read the Archie comics? If so, what’s your opinion on scrouge?

A: I'm not a fan of either.

chrismantike asked: I’ve been seeing this debate a lot everywhere and I want your expert opinion on it. Since you do know about DBZ I was wondering if you think Sonic can actually beat Goku?

A: I'm always going to go with Sonic on this debate. He's defeated monsters, deities, A KILLER MOON?! He can defeat most enemies in his normal state but when he goes super, enemies don't stand a chance. Meanwhile how many times does Goku need to 'level up' his Super Saiyan form just to fight an enemy? (this is all in jest of course) Hedgehog wins.

Anon asked: do you like team chaotix? If so, who’s your favorite character??

A: Team Chaotix is not my favorite group haha. If I had to choose a favorite amongst them, it'd be Espio. I think he's funny even when he's not trying to be.

whiteghos asked: Can you summarize (if you can) what happened in TEIU by Kbspeeding? I wanted to know what happened before lil’ rory and Shadow got all dirty and beat up and what happened during that chapter. I really wanted to read it so if you can that’ll be great!?

A: I sincerely wish I could, but "The Evil In Us" was so long ago that I don't remember the details well, and KB deleted her account and all of the pages of her fic with it, so I haven't been able to reference it in ages. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help.

Anon asked: How would you imagine Amy in her teen years? -✍🏻

A: I already picture Amy as we know her as a teenage Amy. Especially her in Sonic Boom, I think that's a teenage/young adult Amy.

-

MY OCs/AU ASKS

Anon asked: I have this question on my mind for awhile now, how did you make or come up with and Amy’s and Aurora’s clothes designs? They are amazing ☺️☺️

A: Well that's an incredibly kind thing for you to say! I honestly don't feel like I did that great of a job with Amy, I just put her in clothes I'd like to see her in haha. I wish I had put more thought into her outfit but I can always redesign in the future. With Aurora (and any of my OCs, really) I just experiment with things until I figure out what works. I try to first get into the mindset of the character and determine what fashion trend best suits their personality, and then I'll do research on that style and then try to come up with something based on that. Aurora's style is on the spectrum of "Eclectic" and "Fun" and "Funky" fashion trends, so her outfits are based on that. If you're curious, I have a whole Pinterest board dedicated to my AU and there are sections for the different characters' fashion!

Anon asked: Are you going to make more ship/fan children one day, or will you just stick with Tumble, Ruff, & Aurora??

A: Methinks you've forgotten the other 8 fankids I've made! But that's okay 😜 I love creating characters and I have no plans on stopping that any time soon. That could be OCs that aren't related to anyone, OCs that are the parents of characters we know, or fan children. I don't know what I'll be doing next, but there will definitely be more new characters in the future.

charlieangel345 asked: Hey, evay, What do you think Amy and Aurora’s favorite anime? I think Amy’s favorite anime is fruit basket and Aurora favorite anime is sailor moon.

A: I think you're absolutely right! :) I think Amy might also be a fan of Ranma 1/2 as well. I'm not all that current with anime so I can't make many more recommendations that suit them.

supersaiyaman85 asked: How do you think it would go down if CC ever met Cream or Zooey(Tail's crush from Sonic Boom)?

A: I have a script for a comic that involves CC and Cream interacting, I just have to get around to drawing it. As far as Tails' past crushes like Zooey, CC is very jealous so ... she wouldn't handle it well lol

twistedchaos101 asked: Does Aurora know her grandparents? How is the relationship with them?

A: At this time, Sonic does not know Phlox is his dad and Domino is deceased, so to their knowledge Aurora does not have grandparents on her dad's side. Aurora would know her Grandma Lulu and Grandpa Clay, but Amy is sort of estranged from them so they aren't a major part of her life. They're the kind of grandparents that send a ton of gifts on holidays and birthdays but only visit maybe once ever few years. She loves getting to see them though and they absolutely adore her!

abbysulf asked: Has there ever been a moment where Sonic went dark to save Aurora? Like, was she in so much danger that he would risk his mind and body to save her? And not from Shadow lol

A: In my AU's canon, there hasn't been any moments like that. I like to joke about Sonic turning dark any time he's even mildly upset, but I don't mean it seriously. And as Aurora was growing up, he kept Aurora so safe to the point it was almost smothering, so she wouldn't have ever been in any real danger. But if she were to ever have her life threatened, yes he would lose himself in order to protect her, without hesitation.

Anon asked: We all know Sonic and the gang for saving the world in their world and they have alot of fans but what about in your story? Are they famous and their fans are surprised when they heard that Sonic and Amy got together and had a child same with Rouge and Knuckles but they adopted instead?

A: Even in my AU, Team Sonic is famous. Not to the point where they're like celebrities and have paparazzi following them everywhere, but the average citizen knows who the members of Team Sonic are and some people do get kind of starstruck around them. As they all reach older adulthood, Sonic and Amy's lives get a little more calm and domestic so they are less in the spotlight compared to Tails who is the CEO of his own company and Knuckles who is running the Young Heroes program. Maybe the average person might be surprised that some of their heroes ended up getting married and having their own families, but again I don't picture Team Sonic's personal lives in tabloids regularly.

Anon asked: I actually wanna know how well Aurora takes shots (At the doctors)from a baby all the way up to a young adult

A: Aurora sure wouldn't like shots, but she's never necessarily been scared of getting them. If anything, I could see the DOCTOR being more afraid of giving her a shot. Imagine both Sonic and Amy giving the doctor the death glare with the unspoken threat of "You better get this done quick and if you cause any extra unnecessary pain, we will both end you." They've got a good routine down where Sonic distracts baby/toddler Aurora until the shot happens and then both he and Amy quickly smother her in hugs and kisses and praises so she is only upset for a brief moment.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Why does Sonic spy on Shadow and Aurora when they go on a date or when Aurora visits Shadow's house?

A: Sonic is an overprotective dad and he doesn't like the idea of Aurora dating anybody (even though she's a grownup). It doesn't matter who she was dating, he doesn't think anybody is good enough for his baby girl. He spies to make sure they're not getting into trouble (it's just for the sake of comedy, don't take it too seriously).

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

djanims asked: maybe weird question but has aurora ever seen shadow in his super form and if not what was her reaction?

A: She has! I've drawn them together in their super forms before :) She thinks he's an angel

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Has Shadow told Aurora about who Maria was in your continuity?

A: Absolutely. Maria played a very important role in his life, so of course he'd talk about her. The grief will always be there but with time and by becoming more comfortable opening up to Aurora, he finds it easier to reminisce on the good times he had with his sister.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: How did Sonic and Amy react to Aurora and Shadow having 8 children like I just imagine *first born* "Oh my goodness congratulations!" second born still happy. At the 8th their like "Wow... Rory that's um great... Lots of grandkids.." So yes that's how I imagine it going but how about you, this question has really taken over my mind. 🤣❤️❤️

A: Hehehe, 8 grandchildren is definitely a lot. BUT! I headcanon that Mobians are a bit more like animals than humans are, so the idea of 'litters' isn't totally foreign (though maybe not as common in modern day Mobius). In my AU, Shadow and Aurora have three litters (so far, hehehe) so it went 3 kids, 2 kids, 3 kids, so they weren't exactly expecting to end up with 8 children, but they're happy all the same. I think Amy would be over the moon no matter what. Sonic would love all his grandkids and be excited about all of them, but also I'm sure he'd be secretly laughing it up at how chaotic the Shadora Home must be at all times and he's just glad that he and Amy had it super easy raising their only child. Plus I could see among friends and family there's an ongoing joke of "So... Aurora, Shadow.... How many next time?"

-

SHIPPING ASKS

kkrucy asked: What your opinion on other ships then sonamy?

A: There are plenty of ships that I like and there are plenty that are not for me. I don't like to announce the ships I don't like, there's no good in doing that. Some that I like include (but are not limited to) KnucklesXRouge, Shadamy, Sonadow, SonAmyShad, MetAmy, VectorXEspio, KnucklesXAriem, RougeXTopaz, WhisperXTangle, Dr.RobotnikXAgentStone (from the movies), SilverXBlaze, I even like BlazeXRouge if I'm being honest (You can blame TMOSTH for that!)

scaredforcewielder asked: I know it's a bit early, but would you consider doing Sonic and Amy's first Christmas as a couple?

A: I know I did it off-season, but I already made a several Sonamy comics for Christmas this year. I always want to draw more Sonamy and I would love to draw their first Christmas as a couple, but honestly I don't know that I'll have the time to do that this year. I hope those mistletoe comics helped to tide you over!

dean-alice-rose asked: What is your favorite sonmy moment? And it can be in your comics or official. Also what is your favorite comic that you made?

A: Gosh, it's really difficult to pick a single favorite Sonamy moment! If I had to narrow it down to just a few... One would definitely be episode 52 of Sonic X where Sonic returns to their planet and he and Amy have that heart to heart. I can't tell you how many times I've watched that scene, I found it to be the epitome of romance even as a kid! A small moment that actually meant a huge deal to me was in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, where Sonic calls Amy "radiant." It's just one line, but wow, what a magnificent compliment! That's way more powerful than simply calling someone 'pretty' or 'great' in my opinion. I have too many favorites, I could go on forever haha! I don't really have a favorite comic that I made, they all mean a lot to me. "My Gal" is maybe what I'm most known for and that's great because it was so personal and I poured SO MUCH of my heart into it. But I have fond memories of every single comic I've made and each one has helped better my writing and drawing, so they're all special to me no matter how silly or serious they are.

Anon asked: In the future, would there be a chance to see CC and Tails again? I always adored CC and loved her design, plus her relationship with Tails. I was just curious as to if you had any future plans for them?

A: Definitely! I have plenty of ideas for them, I just need to dedicate the time to drawing it out. I'm so happy you enjoy that pair so much!

Anon asked: What are your thoughts on Metamy? (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

A: I ship it! It's not at the top of my list but I still think it's super cute and no matter what, I've always had the headcanon that Metal has feelings for Amy (he's meant to be like Sonic, after all, so if I believe Sonic likes Amy then surely Metal would, too!)

Anon asked: Do you ever compare video game couples to each other? - ✍🏻?

A: Of course, it'd be impossible not to. Personally I relate Sonamy to NathanDrakeXElenaFisher (Uncharted) the most out of all video game couples. Both pairs have an undying love for adventure and enjoy traveling the world. Elena/Amy are definitely more cautious and careful than Nathan/Sonic who're a little more gung-ho, but in the end they make a great team and can keep up with one another.

whiteghos asked: What is Sonamy’s love language? >v< <3

A: I always say that Amy is the physical embodiment of love, and because of that I think ALL the love languages suit her! She expresses her love in every way possible and I'm sure she'd be happy to receive it in any way Sonic is willing to give it 🥰 It makes sense to me that Sonic's would be Quality Time and Acts of Service. Sonic always loves to do his own thing, so whenever he's willing to spend his time with Amy (whether it's grabbing dinner with her or even if it's just sitting in a pile of hay with her), I think that says a LOT. I don't think Acts of Service requires explanation.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

whiteghos asked: What is Shadora’s love language? >v< <3

A: This is hard to narrow down and I feel like love languages fluctuate. For now, I'd say they both share the love language of Physical Touch. Individually, Aurora leans more towards Words of Affirmation and Shadow is Acts of Service.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don’t like Shadora

Anon asked: Are you gonna make a full comic on Shadow and Aurora first date like you did with Sonic and Amy?

A: I'm not 100% sure if it will become a comic. I definitely have a fic in mind, and maybe I'll do some supplemental drawings to go along with it. Sonic and Amy's first date was 'easier' because Sonic and Amy already have an established history. Shadow and Aurora have to get to know each other before they start dating, so it'd be easier to accomplish in a fic rather than a comic. If you haven't seen it already, I did write a summary of their first date.

–

Thank you all for the questions!

Evay QA Bulk Post 1

Evay QA Bulk Post 2

Evay QA Bulk Post 3

Evay QA Bulk Post 4

Evay QA Bulk Post 5

[grimbanes]

My Soulmate is Capitalism. (Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader)

Summary: "Of course I believe in soulmates - I have met mine. Capitalism is my mistress and I lay with her every night, I hold her close and she sings me promises of riches beyond any man's dreams." OR after a successful heist, everybody celebrates but kaz chooses to sit with the reader and they have a funny conversation.

WC: 2k

Genre: crack fic. pre-relationship, coming to terms with feelings, the rest of the crows being funny. you/your pov. kaz might be a lil ooc. reader and kaz are besties with a lot of tension.

A/N: i wanted to write something light hearted because my notifs are blown up rn, but this is gonna be a first part or prologue leading to confessions within a day or two. so stay tuned, i hope you enjoy this because there's more to come for this one. i wanted to try something more dialogue heavy for once. i forgot how funny kaz could be but i was reading chapter 2 of SOC again and my god hes so funny.

TW: violence, usual six of crow warnings, kaz laughing.

“So you admit that you’re the thief?”

The young man in chains wanted to laugh, he really did. It wasn’t in his nature to laugh at idiocy - if he made a habit of it, he’d be laughing permanently and that seemed rather tiring. 

“I’m a vigilante, of sorts,” He replied smoothly, adjusting the shackles on his hands from where he let them rest between his legs, being sure not to touch his bad leg even when both were chained to the rickety, barely held together chair he was perched upon.

“You gonna give it to the poor?” 

“I am the poor,” Kaz said. He had to egg him on. His entire plan was resting on the fact that the Stadwatch were full of the most kruge hungry, lazy, arrogant fools to ever be shoved from the womb of Ketterdam’s damp streets.

It earned him a fist to the face, cracking down against his scarred cheekbone and he felt dizzy - recoiling from the rising tides that filled his tight lungs, daring to attempt to drag him under the murky, corpse riddled depths. It was only a moment of touch, but a moment enough that it numbed the pain that should be blossoming through the nerves in his face. 

“Filthy street rat,” The guard scoffed at him, shaking his hand to evidently ease the pain from hitting him. Soft bastards. 

“Street rat, urchin, pickpocket, they’re all the same. You can think of something better now, can’t you? Let me give you a hand: I prefer the term businessman, opportunist or even idealist, on a good day, ” The young man in chains taunted, leaning back into his seat and making himself comfortable, only the weight of rusting metal clamped around his bare skin giving him any discomfort.

He needed the officer closer. Just that little bit closer.

He didn’t miss the slight hobble in the guard’s right foot, or the consistent shaking in both of his hands. Perhaps he had skipped a meal or was otherwise unwell, either way, it posed an opportunity for him that had the young man scheming. Like any skilled thief, he could take himself out of his chains in mere seconds with the gentle caress of cool metal, a flick of the wrist and a soft praise, the lock would bend to his will and snap open, but not yet. With guard in his space, he could set the rest of the plan into motion and trust in his schemes to carry the others to do their part too. 

The Stadwatch officer reached to fist his hair and Kaz braced himself, tongue in cheek and eyes locked on the hand reeling back and preparing to be delivered swiftly into his nose. A single second window was all he had. So he counted. He waited three seconds, inhale, exhale, inhale, and with a loud clink, his wrists were free. Kaz lowered himself down, arms shooting out to wrap around the officer’s hips and he hoisted himself up to his full height, the chains on his feet clattering away and he was dropping the officer onto his back with a heavy thud, dust filling the air in the dark room. 

He didn’t hesitate to grab his cane from where it was left propped against the wall and raised it with a confident grip, the weighted head connecting with a sickening crack to the side of the man’s head. Exhale.

“Can’t have this tarnishing my perfect record,” Kaz mumbled, taking an uneven step back and leaning heavily onto his cane, stoney eyes scanning the surrounding room. It was dark out, possibly. Around four hours he’d been sitting with his eyes closed, counting every second and minute that passed, as he’d been stripped of his hat, coat, gloves and cane. He pushed his bare hand through his hair, away from his face. Right about now they should be-

The door threw open, and expecting Jesper, Kaz opened his mouth the mutter a threat about almost being late but instead, he was met with the one person who managed to make him hold his tongue. The one person who had him on his toes, who encouraged his behaviour, the only other person who knew what it was like to be raised by Ketterdam. You. With your mischievous smile, dirt smudged against your cheek and eyes sparkling at him with so much mirth that it had him wanting to return the pure joy you always seemed to radiate. You were always at your best when your pockets were full of trinkets that didn’t belong to you.

“Where’s Jesper?” Kaz inquired instead, stepping past you and out of the door and he didn’t even want to think on why the soft scent of morning dew flowers even managed to stay clung to you in dangerous jobs like this. He hobbled down the narrow corridor, leaning majority of his weight into his cane as his leg began to ache, the cold chill of the room set deep into the broken bone - he’d definitely been sat still for too long, it was nearly unbearable. 

“Covering Wylan’s escape,” Your voice chimed from behind him, quiet steps masked in time with his own uneven gait. He eyed you from the corner of his alert eyes and he thought you were possibly the most addicting thing he had ever laid his eyes upon, even in dim light, in the face of danger, the possibility of death still thick in the suffocatingly stagnant air. 

Kaz couldn’t find it within himself to be mad that Jesper had gone against his explicit orders to stick to the plan, no detours, no changes. That only meant that you had done your best to adapt to the change, to do your part and still come for him, and you had done it well - he figured he owed you a drink. Or a necklace. Or a bullet between your enemy’s eyes. Whatever he could do, he would do it for you, just to show he valued your set of skills in his arsenal. The entire plan rested on Jesper breaking Kaz out of interrogation before the Stadwatch completed the paperwork and locked him in a cell for Ghezen knew how long.

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

You collapsed into your seat with a sigh, head tipped back and the sound of the bottle of whiskey was already being passed around, glasses clinking and the unshakable adrenaline remained buzzing under everybody’s skin. Another successful heist meant another fifteen thousand kruge in your coffers. You heard the seat beside you be dragged out and the smell of dark coffee flooding your senses, warming your sinuses. Your eyes flickered open in the warm lighting, falling upon the familiar figure that seemed to always be in your shadow as of late.

Kaz slid a cup and saucer your way, bitter dark coffee swirling in the fine china and you felt yourself ease a little more. He had a way about him that always left you feeling a little recharged - maybe it was the fact he always brought you a cup of coffee when he made himself one, always waking you up and giving you the illusion that it was him doing it. Clever, really, the sly bastard. You held onto the little plate with a smile, fingers hooking into the handle as Kaz sat himself beside you, cane rested against the table and his usual coat and hat abandoned somewhere in the club.

“Boss will have our heads for being in the club after hours, you know,” You teased.

“I am the boss,” Kaz muttered in retort, his usual eyebrow quirk present as he stared.

“Oh yes, of course, my apologies, Master Brekker,” You pressed, giving him a little nudge with your elbow and not missing the slight quirk of his own lips, barely present other than the way only one side of his mouth raised. 

The young man rolled his blued hyacinth eyes in his usual manner, his entire being just screaming familiarity and you felt comfortable. At ease. Brekker could handle himself in a gunfight, a fist fight and any game of wit. His tongue was sharper than most knives, his words the coldest bullet to explode your brains against your own floorboards and that was a comforting thing in the Barrel. 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You found yourself asking, swirling the dark coffee in its cup between your hands, holding it close to your face and studying the young man beside you. 

"Of course I believe in soulmates - I have met mine. Capitalism is my mistress and I lay with her every night, I hold her close and she sings me promises of riches beyond any man's dreams,” Kaz spoke with utter sincerity, sipping his own coffee and studying down at the manifest in front of him, pen in his other hand. 

“Geels was right, you do only talk in metaphors,” You mumbled with clear disappointment, eyes cast upon your friends across the room as they drank their alcohol and made merry, celebrating the night’s events. 

Beside you, Kaz stopped writing. In fact, he set his pen down altogether and a sigh left through his nose. You didn’t want to turn to look at him, didn’t want to show your disappointment - it was very rare you ever got a real answer from him, one that wasn’t a deflection or some mirror of the reputation he spent so long building. Sometimes, you just wanted a conversation but you knew choosing Kaz for that was foolish to begin with. 

“As I said to Geels, that wasn’t a metaphor,” Kaz offered the truce, rather than submitting to his usual silence whenever he had upset someone. 

“Is this your way of telling me that you quite literally sleep with money in your bed?” You asked, perplexed and turning your head to fully look at the Barrel Boss’ side profile. 

“Yes.” Kaz sipped his coffee, leaned back in his seat and tapped a gloved finger against the surface of the table between you, “Thousands of kruge make my pillow and keep me warm in the night.” 

And you laughed. You laughed louder than you ever had, hand slamming against the table and full body tipping forward, coffee set aside as you nearly choked on it. Kaz Brekker had told a joke and it was devastatingly funny, the deadpan delivery more than enough for you to be sent into a room filled with giggles. It had the others across the room staring at you with perplexity, glancing between both you and Kaz and you didn’t miss the way his body shook just that little bit, a hint of a laugh in his body language and smile hidden beneath the cup of coffee he was sipping on. 

“You are so lucky that I adore you so much else I would be sticking a bullet through your brain right about now,” You giggled, miming firing a gun at him with your fingers and you snorted again, gripping onto the edge of the table. 

“Careful voicing your affections so loud, one might think you’re being sincere,” Kaz’s smile seemed to shine in his eyes, leaning a little closer to your space and it set you off again, your hand slamming against your hand in an effort to stop your little outburst. 

***

“They flirt with violence?” Nina dared question, whiskey in hand and staring at the exchange with confusion fused with joy, knowing damn well she could use this against the both of them in future. I mean really, who could adore anyone with a haircut that bad? She shook her head, utterly flummoxed. 

“I don’t know what’s more unsettling, seeing Kaz smile or seeing Kaz make someone just as bad as him laugh like that,” Wylan shuddered, yet unable to look away.

“I think it's sweet. It really shows that there is somebody out there for everyone,” Inej smiled, eyes softening as she studied the exchange and holding her hand above her heart.

“Demjin made somebody laugh, I think we should take them both to a medik,” Matthias grumbled, earning himself a shove from Nina. 

“Well I think-” Jesper dropped into his seat, leaning into where they had huddled inwards and grinned. “It’s creepy. I mean c'mon, imagine if anything happened between them. He’d go absolutely feral. It's so human.. I don’t like it.”

[midniiights-garden]

To Those Beyond The Sea - Mizu x filipino!Reader

(A/N: THIS IS FOR THE LOVELY ANON @dinadearine!! I wanted my main ff to be more of the reader escaping to Japan bc of the Spanish, but I loved this idea sm so I still wanted to write something for it!! I hope you like it <33)

Possible TWs!!!: Sex, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc?

Mizu was rather pissed off when the captain of her ship told her they would be making a stop over at a nearby country before moving onto Britain. After all, in her eyes it was simply a waste of time. Why would she want to spend time in a place that didn't aid her search for vengence after all? That was the price to pay for choosing a cargo ship instead of one ferrying passengers. So, she begrudgingly acknowledged the statement before turning her gaze back to the sea, her eyes scanning the waves for unknown answers.

Her ship arrives at it's destination the next morning. Mizu is surprised to find herself in a warm, tropical country. It wasn't that far away from her homeland of Japan, and yet the scenery was worlds away. The sun beat down onto her heavily, making her sweat in her disguise. She suddenly regretted not packing lighter clothing. The air here was humid, thick. She could feel it sticking to her skin and frankly she was at a loss as to whether or not it was a good thing or not. And then there was the town. It was a quaint sea side port, but it was full of life. Children ran around the streets, yelling and playing happily with one another. Vendors were selling their wares, there were people singing and laugh... and there was chatter everywhere. Quite different to Japan. A part of her finds this stark difference endearing. Everyone here seemed so... happy. She notes the darker skin tone of the people around her, marveling in it's beauty. The people here were beautiful. And Mizu couldn't decide whether or not it was because of their smiles or their features.

But she was sweating. Really badly.

"Fuck," she mutters, shrugging off her haori. She couldn't risk revealing her identity as a woman, but at the same time she was pretty sure she would die if she didn't get some new clothes. So she disembarked, stepping onto the docks of the town and heading inwards to search for a tailor who could help her.

Suddenly, someone bumps into her. One of the native women. Mizu had to catch herself from staring. The woman before her was considerably shorter her tanned skin shining beautifully in the sunlight. The stranger's hair was dark, so dark it was nearly black and it was tied up gracefully into a bun at the nape of her neck. The woman looks up at Mizu, warm brown eyes staring curiously into her blue ones.

"...pasensya na," the woman says, lowering her head bashfully.

Mizu stares, absolutely puzzled. What the hell was a passensha?

"Uhm... w-what?" Mizu replies, hoping that she didn't sound too awkward or nervous.

Mizu and the woman stare at each other for a while as it dawns on the both of them. They had no way to communicate. The woman bites down on her lower lip, looking worried. She suddenly points at herself and then at Mizu before making her hands bump together. "Ano... I..." she begins, her accent thick. She points back to herself and then bows dramatically. It finally dawns on Mizu... The woman was apologizing.

"I-It's," Mizu begins. "Ok." In an effort to communicate with the stranger she forces her lips into a smile, nodding her head as an acceptance of her apology. Much to Mizu's relief the woman smiles brightly, so brightly Mizu was certain that the sun itself had been reincarnated into this tiny human. The woman then points at herself again before speaking. She tells Mizu her name, a name that she had never heard of and yet was now finding incredibly beautiful. She repeats it, testing the syllables on her tongue before pointing to herself.

"Mizu," she says. The stranger, you, smiles. You test her name on your tounge as well, delighted to make another friend.

Meanwhile Mizu is quite literally sweating to death, having previously been too distracted by the new figure to notice her state. She was now thrown back to reality by the sticky feeling of her clothing against her back. Mizu taps your shoulder, pointing at her clothes.

"Need... new ones," she says to you. You seem to get the message, and you quickly lead her to a vendor. You chat with said vendor quickly, telling the lady running it that Mizu requires new clothing to suit the weather and she quickly whips something up for Mizu.

"Salamat po!" I say gratefully as I hand the clothing to the still sweating Mizu. Mizu takes the clothing gratefully, hurrying back to her ship to change into the lighter clothing. She sighed in relief as the light fabric touched her skin, cooling her off. When she exits her room she's surprised to find you still waiting for her at the dock. How persistent of you.

That meeting was now two weeks ago. The first meeting that would change the both of your lives. Mizu couldn't help but be drawn in by your welcoming, sunny nature. It was so sincere, so sweet that she was sucked in as if she was stuck in a vat of taffy. Within those two weeks you had both learned to communicate through English (which Mizu found additionally helpful considering she would need to know English to get around Britain). Mizu eventually ended up telling you about her past. About how she was really a woman in disguise, how she had murdered her husband and how she was killing all the men who had the audacity to force her into being. And yet despite knowing all these truths you never once stopped smiling at her the same way. Not even when you had begged her to spar with you and lost. When she pinned you down Mizu was afraid it would be a repeat of Mikio, and yet all you did was giggle. You giggled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

That was when she realized something that both elated and horrified her. She loved you. Mizu had fallen head over heels for you. For your sunny personality, for your smile for everything. She pulls away from you briefly, trying to process the warmth she felt in her chest at the sight of you. When she does come back to you the first thing she does is apologize.

"For what?" You ask her, tilting your head to the side.

"For disappearing so suddenly," Mizu replies.

"Oh? That? I just figured you needed space," you say, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Goddamn it. Will you stop being so damn cute?" Mizu hisses, suddenly clamping down on her own mouth once she realized what she had said. Meanwhile you stand there briefly, shocked at what she just said.

"Cute?" You ask. "You think.. I'm cute?"

"Yes," Mizu groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Listen, I... I love-"

You cut her off. "I love you too."

Mizu's heart stutters, her breath hitching in her throat. You loved her back. Now without reservation she grabbed ahold of you by the collar of your blouse, pulling you forward and kissing you.

Kissing turned to making out and making out turned to grinding and before either of you could process it you were both unclothed, your bodies intertwined intimately.

"You're beautiful," you whisper between moans.

For once Mizu almost cried; not out of anger or despair... But this time out of joy. After the intense night of pleasure you slept in each others arms, taking solace in the warmth of your lover.

Come morning Mizu held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. What was once a stop over she had deemed unnecessary became one of the most important events in her life. But she would have to go soon, and they both knew it. You both spend the rest of your time together as a couple, whispered words of comfort and love shared between the both of you. And the night before her departure from your warm homeland you got married.

"Mizu," I whisper after our small ceremony. "I hope you know I'm coming with you."

Mizu's eyes widened.

"What? Are you crazy!?! You'll get hurt! I-" She is promptly shut up by your finger on her lips, your dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shh, love. I'm coming with. I'm your wife now, as you are mine. And I promise to do whatever it takes to help you in your quest. I promise. Mahal kita," you whisper, kissing her tenderly. Mizu knew better than to argue. Not with your stubborn personality. Which is how she now finds herself in London, her beautiful wife at her side. From now until forever more.

Translations!!:

Pasensya na - Excuse me

Ano - What

Salamat po - Thank you (sir/ma'am - idk how to translate po tbh)

Mahal kita - I love you

(A/N: ANNDDDD DONE!! :D I hope this was up to your standards!! I'm sorry the smut part is so short it's more implied if anything 😭😭I was too scared to make it longer but I swear I'll do a proper smut scene in the future. As usual, if anyone has any suggestion, comments or requests feel free to ask!! Love y'all <3)

[pagesfromthevoid]

Traicionero | j.p.

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word Count: 9.9k (Ahaha woops)

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence. Oral (f receiving). P in V sex. Fingering. Dubious consent (Javi is drunk when he gets to her). Plot with smut basically. Poorly translated Spanish. Possibly OOC Javier?

Author’s Note: I don’t even know why I wrote this. More importantly I don’t know why I needed any sort of plot to fuck Javier Peña but alas. Here we are. Also, yes. I totally got the opening line from Teen Wolf. Don't fuckin' judge me.

Requests are OPEN

“Do you wanna hear it in Spanish, Peña?” She mocked, standing tall in front of the ambassador’s office door. He was glaring down at her, eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Fucking clever, princesa,” he countered, reaching out to move her. But she blocked his hands. 

“Touch me, and I swear to God, Peña —Escobar will be the least of your concerns.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary,” he taunted, grabbing her upper arms to move her once more. With her heel, she slammed her foot into his boot and he cussed angrily and released her. “Jesus Christ. Just let me through.”

“I’m under strict orders to let no one in this office. Especially you.”

As the new assistant to the Ambassador of the US in Columbia, she wasn’t about to risk her job because of some pretty boy agent who thought he was the shit. Crosby had made himself very clear when she was hired: don’t let Peña boss her around; don’t let Murphy guilt trip her. She was the fourth assistant in three years, with the other three having quit due to pressure or been fired for not being able to follow orders. 

Crosby blamed Javier Peña for the first two quitting; certain the agent didn’t call or hurt their feelings enough to make the women refuse to work with him. The third one was fired for leaking information to the press. 

She would be different. She already was. Agent Peña wasn’t going to get her in bed, for one. He’d tried during her first week. Flirted up a goddamn storm. Complimented everything about her from her hair to her nails to her shoes. It was a fine daydream at first —he was pretty and polite as far as she could tell —until Crosby called her into his office and warned her. 

So she stopped with that dangerous daydream, choosing to ignore Peña. Just because he was attractive didn’t give him the right to fuck around with everything that had a pulse. Besides, the whole better-than-you thing he had going on annoyed her after the second week. And the way he kept looking at her —like she was a piece of meat needing to be inspected —made her never want to wear a skirt again. 

Which she hadn’t, by the way. She had taken to wearing slacks and flowy blouses that didn’t expose more skin than necessary. Was it inconvenient in the Colombian heat? Absolutely. But did it keep Agent Peña from staring at her? Not really at first, but he didn’t do it as much now. And that’s what she cared about. 

“I will happily schedule you an appointment,” she offered, though she didn’t step away from the office door. 

“Yeah, next fucking year.”

“Actually, I think he has an opening tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I needed him 10 minutes ago, sweetheart. Not gonna fly.”

She just shrugged, hands on her hips as they stared each other down. However, maybe Peña realized he had been beaten. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to fight with her anymore. Because finally, he threw his hands in the air and stormed off, bitching about wasting his time. 

Fifteen minutes later, however, Steve Murphy tried his hand. 

“I really recommend you walk away from me, Agent Murphy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

———

Four months into the job, and the war against Pablo Escobar, Ambassador Crosby ordered her to take up a desk at the base. She didn’t argue, given his reasoning was solid (“I need someone there to filter through the bullshit. They come to you, you call me.”). However, her new position meant a significant lifestyle change that was a bit more abrupt than she expected. 

Turns out, living on a Colombian military base was awful. And even more so, if you were American. And a woman. And as if those two things didn’t make her question quitting her job almost daily (not that she would, but goddamn, she wanted to lately with the amount of bloodied soldiers and cops that came in) —it meant spending an annoying amount of time with Murphy and Peña, who had been sidelined. 

Her desk was ten feet away from where the two DEA agents set up their space. Murphy offered to push her closer, joking that they could be the three musketeers, but she just returned to the paperwork she had already filled out, ignoring him. 

“One of these days, you’re gonna be thankful it’s us here and not anyone else, hermosa,” Peña stated one evening, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips. 

“I’ll be thankful when you actually manage to catch Escobar instead of fucking up raids,” she countered, not looking up from the notes she was rewriting for Martinez.

Murphy laughed at that, and she glanced up as his chair creaked when he leaned back in it. “She’s got a point there, Javi.”

“Shut the fuck up. Whose side are you on?” 

“The side that’s usually right,” Murphy continued, looking at her with a grin. 

She almost made a comment regarding listening to his wife if that was the case, but she stopped herself. It had been a bad day when he stormed out of the base the afternoon that Connie left; she wasn’t that cruel.

“Flattery gets you nowhere with me.” She hummed a bit, setting her pen down and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. The words were jumbling together, and translating from English to Spanish was difficult for someone who was not fluent in the language. And low on caffeine. 

“Oh, we know,” Peña replied, sitting on his desk. “If it did, we’d have so much more intel —,”

“Agent Peña,” she interrupted, looking up at him with tired eyes. For a moment, she swore he looked concerned but she chalked it up to wishful thinking; thinking he could care about anyone but himself was a reckless path to put herself on. “As much as I just love listening to you bitch about me doing my job correctly —I can’t handle it right now. So either get me coffee, or shut the fuck up.”

Neither he nor Murphy said another word, looking between each other for a moment before Murphy motioned for him to move. Peña was about to slide off his desk when the phone rang, and his attention snapped back to his actual task at hand as he answered it. She blinked a few times, shaking her head for a second to wake herself up, before she stood up. 

Stretching her arms up over her head, she let out a quiet groan as her joints popped. When was the last time she stood up? It felt like it had been hours. 

Peña looked at her curiously, phone still pressed to his ear. He paused for a moment, hand over the bottom of the receiver, and this time, she was sure there was concern evident in his tone. "You okay?" 

She paused, surprised by the genuine concern in his tone. Dropping back into her chair, she ran a hand over her face, trying to think of something witty to say. But Peña's unexpected display of empathy caught her off guard. For a moment, she considered brushing it off with a dismissive remark, but the weariness in her body won over her usual defenses.

"You actually wanna know?” She asked, eying him closely as she wondered if he actually cared. But Peña nodded, kicking his feet up on his desk as he leaned back his chair, motioning for her to keep talking. She hesitated a moment before she finally spoke, her voice lacking its usual sharpness. "Long nights, endless paperwork…I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Understanding flickered in Peña's gaze, and he nodded sympathetically. "I get it," he replied, glancing at the phone for a moment before he let out a frustrated huff, though he motioned to the phone as if to say he was reacting to the caller. “Look, those notes are gonna be there when you get back. Martinez won’t be here for an hour or two anyway. Why don't you take a break, grab some fresh air –there’s a café down the street from the base that has the good shit.”

She opened her mouth to argue –to make some snide comment about his knowledge of the area –but stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself not to let her guard down. Peña may have shown a brief moment of concern, but she knew better than to trust his actions completely. She had learned from both experience and word of mouth that he had his own agenda. She wasn't about to let her guard down just because of a momentary lapse in his usual demeanor.

But…maybe she’d be a little nicer, if only because he was also being nice. The skepticism still lingered, but she couldn't help but entertain the idea that perhaps there was a genuine moment of connection between them, however fleeting it might be.

“Do you want anything?”

He looked back at her, his brow raised as he considered her offer. A mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he snuffed out his cigarette and hung up the phone. "Finally offering to do a coffee run? Took ya long enough," he teased, his usual annoying self resurfacing. “Not today, cariño. Maybe tomorrow.”

Her momentary hope deflated, replaced by annoyance. So much for his newfound niceness.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and adjusting the strap on her shoulder. "Unlikely," she retorted, brushing past him as she walked out of the base. 

When she returned an hour later, coffee in hand and the sun setting over the Colombian horizon, she found that her notes were typed up and translated, sitting in a neat pile on her desk. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the fading daylight, creating a sense of calm in the otherwise chaotic office. Her brow furrowed as she looked around the makeshift space they called an office, the empty chairs and silent surroundings indicating that Murphy and Peña were both long gone for the night.

A mix of surprise and intrigue washed over her. She hadn't expected anyone to take the initiative to organize her notes, especially not Peña. It was a small act, but it hinted at a flicker of unexpected consideration. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

With a curious smile tugging at her lips, she sat down at her desk, her fingers tracing the neatly typed pages. As she perused the translations, she couldn't help but appreciate the effort that had gone into it. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring its warmth as she leaned back in her chair, contemplating the possibilities. Tomorrow would only bring more chaos –such was the life they lived in Colombia –but for now, she would appreciate what felt like an olive branch being extended.

Maybe she would be a little nicer to Javier Peña.

———

“Come out with us,” Steve offered about two months later, leaning back in his chair.. “We finally gotta win –we’re all going out to celebrate.”

In the weeks that followed Peña’s random act of kindness, the three Americans found themselves on far friendlier terms than before. Sure, Javier was still narcissist of the year —but he was nicer about it. What she would have deemed snarky commentary before had become a back and forth banter that Murphy swore up and down was flirting. Each time he made that comment, she gave him a dirty look and rolled her eyes, always responding with something along the lines of In his fucking dreams. 

To which Peña would always have a comeback, usually following suit of Always in my dreams, cariño or something equally as cheesy. It was always returned with a little smirk on her end, or a wink from him. 

Okay so maybe it was flirting. 

But it was friendly flirting. Nothing more. That path was reckless, even if she was starting to hate him a little less than before.  

“And watch you get shit faced while Peña flirts with anyone with a pulse?” She countered, fanning herself with the folder in her hand. Summer had hit Colombia hard, and she was melting in her blouse and slacks. Even pulling her hair up didn’t stop her from feeling like her body was more liquid than skin. “I’d rather not.”

“Got better plans?”

“Maybe I booked a nice hotel for the night so I could pamper myself,” she mused, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at the blonde agent. “Maybe I have a date. Who knows? It’s not really your business, is it?”

“There’s not any nice hotels around here, so try again,” Steve teased back, moving to sit on her desk now as he looked down at her. “About the date…I mean, you could but do you actually?”

She gave him a pointed look, before glancing around the base. One of the soldiers was walking by with a box of files, and she called out his name –Andrés. He paused, leaning over the rail to give her his full attention, just as Peña stormed into the base. She didn’t pay him too much attention as she smiled up at the soldier, batting her lashes some as she asked him out. Peña, however, stopped and watched the interaction, brow furrowed.

“¿Salgamos esta noche?” 

The soldier looked surprised for a moment but nodded rapidly, smiling brightly at her as he offered to get her at 7. “Absolutamente. ¿Siete?”

“Suena bien.”

The soldier nodded again and walked off to finish his work, clearly a little more pep in his step. She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave Murphy a smug grin. “You were saying?”

Steve just rolled his eyes in exasperation as Peña abruptly yanked his chair out, carelessly tossing his jacket onto the desk. She observed the interaction between them, her brow raised in curiosity as Peña began rummaging through his drawers, seemingly searching for something.

"What's wrong, Javi?" Steve asked, pushing himself off her desk and approaching his partner, concern etched on his face.

"Nothing," Peña snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive. He retrieved a cigarette from the drawer and swiftly lit it, remaining tight-lipped and refusing to offer any further explanation.

She watched as Steve glanced back at her momentarily, a mixture of frustration and confusion evident on his face. Sensing that they were about to engage in a private conversation, they leaned in closer to each other, their voices dropping to hushed whispers that shielded their conversation from her ears.

Unable to catch their words, she watched Steve’s back with a deep frown. It was moments like this, where the two shielded themselves from her earshot, that reminded her that they weren’t properly friends. They didn’t trust her not to rat them out to Crosby. The secrecy between the two partners only reminded her that she was not part of this little team of theirs.

Peña abruptly stood again, frustration etched on his face, and snatched his jacket once more. Steve, mirroring his partner's actions, swiftly straightened up and retrieved his own coat. He cast a brief glance back at her, his eyes reflecting weariness but also attempting to offer a reassuring smile, before the two of them hastily exited the base. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed through the room, fading into the distance as they disappeared beyond the door.

Left behind, she remained seated for a moment, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and concern. She stared intently at the retreating backs of Javier and Steve, their forms gradually vanishing from view. Questions flooded her thoughts, demanding answers to what the hell just happened.

***

She ended up canceling her last minute date, having decided that whatever was going on with Peña and Murphy was probably far more important than proving a point to Murphy that she could get a date. 

It had been nearly three hours since the two agents practically ran out of the base, and while she didn’t directly ask Crosby what was going on, she tried to dance around the question. The ambassador just told her that someone was leaking information to Los Pepes, allowing the vigilante group to take down another one of Pablo’s guys without the DEA or Colombian police being involved. Crosby told her to keep an ear and eye out for anything off and well…

Javier Peña was off that afternoon.

However, she didn’t mention that. 

She just promised she would and hung up, running her hands through her hair as she considered what to do next. As she tried to focus on her work, she pushed thoughts of Javier Peña from her mind. If she even began to think that Peña was the one leaking intel, then she would panic around him and she knew that was no good. It wouldn’t end well for anyone involved, especially if he wasn’t.

Another half an hour passed before Peña’s phone rang again. For the first few rings, she ignored it. It rang all the time –usually tips and intel, or Messina calling to scold him. Usually, it would stop and go to his voicemail. Tonight, however, it stopped then rang again. After the third time, she huffed in annoyance and stood, picking up the receiver. Before she could say anything, however, a voice that she’d only heard through captured recordings, hissed in her ear: Don Berna.

“I thought we were meeting for coffee, Peña?”

Immediately, she hung up the phone and stepped away, her eyes wide. Silently, she cursed to herself as she hurried back to her desk and grabbed her bag and satellite phone then rushed out the doors of the base. Maybe it was just a cartel guy who wanted to turn a new leaf. There wasn’t a reason to think that Peña was working with Berna or feeding him information. She couldn’t just assume the worst.

Okay, so that wasn’t true.

She always assumed the worst in Javier Peña. She had since the moment she met him, and she had continued even after he proved he wasn’t necessarily the worst. But she couldn’t assume that he was actually helping Los Pepes kill innocent people just to get to Escobar. There was just…there was no way.

“Answer your phone, you jackass,” she hissed into her satellite phone, listening to it ring a few times before being hung up on. She dialed it again, getting into her car with it pressed to her ear. “Javier Peña, I swear to God, I’m going to kill you myself –,”

“What the fuck do you want?” He answered, voice clipped and laced in anger.

“I think we need to meet,” she replied, and she wondered if he could hear the trembling in her voice. “For coffee.”

There was a silence that hung between the lines, static being the only sound that filled the cracks. She was shaking, her heart threatening to break through her ribcage as she waited for him to speak. To own up, or lie, or anything. 

“Agent Peña,” she hissed, trying to get him to say something back to her. 

“I’ll be at the café in ten minutes.”

“Is that the same one you fucking meet –,”

“Shut your damn mouth,” he snapped at her, hanging up the phone. 

She stared at it blankly, taking a moment to calm her nerves before she threw it into the passenger seat and took off into town. Maybe it would have been better to walk, give her time to cool down and find a reason to justify why a cartel boss would be calling her, but she wanted a quick getaway if everything suddenly went south. 

Not that she thought Peña would do anything to her –but she couldn’t be sure anymore. 

She parked outside the café, sitting in her car for several minutes before she considered even getting out. What she should be doing is going back to the base, calling the ambassador, and telling him what she had learned. How could she be risking her goddamn job because of Javier fucking Peña? In what world did that make any sense, especially given how –

The passenger side of her car swung open abruptly, and a jolt of surprise shot through her body, causing her to let out a startled yelp. Instinctively, she pressed herself further into the door, her back firmly planted against it, as Peña climbed into the car. The sudden proximity between them made her acutely aware of his presence, and a mix of emotions washed over her like a tidal wave.

Her heart pounded in her chest, its rapid beats echoing in her ears, as she struggled to regain her composure. Wide-eyed, she stared at him, momentarily frozen by the intensity of the situation. The surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her briefly contemplate the idea of delivering a forceful blow to his face—a physical manifestation of the frustration and exasperation he had caused with his reckless actions.

As her mind raced, grappling with conflicting thoughts and emotions, his voice cut through the silence, jolting her back to reality.

"What did he say?" he demanded, his tone firm and unwavering.

She found herself gaping at him, caught off guard by the absence of denial in his response. The sheer audacity of his nonchalance left her momentarily speechless. A mix of anger and disbelief flickered in her eyes as she struggled to find her voice.

"You're not even going to deny it?" she managed to utter, her words laced with a blend of astonishment and accusation.

Peña met her gaze, his own eyes locking with hers, unflinching. "Why the fuck would I? You already know," he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration. "You're not an idiot."

His words struck a nerve, and she felt a surge of conflicting emotions within her—anger, disappointment, but also a lingering sense of understanding. But that understanding was being overtaken by the sheer anger she felt towards the agent. She watched as he briefly glanced out the back window, seemingly checking for any signs of surveillance, before returning his focus to her, leaning in closer.

"What did he say?" he repeated, this time his voice softer, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability amidst the tension that hung in the air.

Her initial impulse was to withhold the information, to maintain an element of control and power in this nightmare they were engaged in. But as she looked into his eyes, the walls she had built around herself began to crumble. 

“He just…he said he thought you were meeting him for coffee,” she explained, looking up at him with a small frown and her brow furrowed. 

Peña's eyes darted away, unable to meet her gaze directly. His usual confident demeanor wavered, revealing a hint of guilt that played across his features. A heavy silence filled the car, punctuated only by the sound of their collective breaths. She waited anxiously for his response, her heart pounding in her chest, hoping against hope that he would vehemently deny the accusation. But as the seconds stretched into an eternity, his admission hung in the air, weighted with a sense of betrayal.

A mix of disbelief and anguish washed over her, the realization hitting her like a brick through a window. Her voice trembled as she spoke again, her words laced with a mix of sorrow and desperation. "Peña...please, tell me it's not actually you that's leaking our intel to Los Pepes."

He sighed heavily, a mixture of regret and resignation etched on his face. "I wish I could say it's not true," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've made some choices...choices that I thought were necessary, because things weren’t getting done.”

Her world seemed to crumble around her, the foundation of trust they had built eroded in an instant. A whirlwind of emotions raged within her—anger, hurt, and a profound sense of disappointment. She had trusted him, relied on him for months because she didn’t have a damn choice, actually managed to kind of like the bastard and now that trust lay shattered.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Javier?” She demanded, pushing herself upright, scrambling to hit him anywhere she could. She wasn’t necessarily the strongest, and truthfully didn’t really know how to throw a punch, but she was angry. And he deserved to be fucking hit. 

And he let her. 

He sat there, stoic and unmoving, his face a mask of acceptance. He made no attempt to dodge or defend himself, allowing her fists to rain down upon him. Her poorly trained punches landed on his arms, her fists colliding with his solid form, but he didn’t flinch or retaliate. His passive response only fueled her anger further.

The sound of her strikes echoed in the air, each smack a cathartic release of frustration and disappointment. Her fists became a conduit for her emotions, as if the physical pain she inflicted upon him could somehow alleviate the emotional pain within her. But with each blow, she realized the uselessness of her actions.

As her punches gradually weakened, exhaustion and sadness began to replace her initial rage. The weight of the situation pressed upon her, and she felt the heaviness in her limbs. Her fists gradually dropped to her sides, her trembling hands a reflection of the turbulent storm of emotions raging within her.

She looked at him, searching for any sign of remorse or explanation in his eyes. But his gaze offered no explanation; nothing that he was able to say to make her feel better. He knew what he did, and she knew he didn’t regret it.

Breathing heavily, she fell back into her door, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. The anger that had fueled her actions now subsided, leaving a void filled with a mixture of disappointment and a longing for answers. The silence between them seemed to stretch on, punctuated only by the heavy silence of unspoken words.

“Get out of my car, Javier.”

He swallowed hard, she could hear it, before he pushed her door open. As he turned to get out, he paused, looking back at her. She stared forward, gripping her steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles were white. 

“I…,” he took a breath, looking down for a moment before he shook his head and got out. “Can’t believe it took this long for you to call me by my first name.”

She let out a watery laugh, trying to keep herself from crying. He stared at her for several moments, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead opting to start her car and wipe her eyes. For just a little while, she really thought maybe he wasn’t that bad. That Javier Peña was actually a decent person, who she was begrudgingly attracted to. She knew that he and Steve did things a bit against the rules; it was hard not to see it. But this was too far, even by that standard. 

She took a deep breath, swallowing down her tears again. “I was so close to not hating you —,”

“If you’re gonna tell Crosby —,”

They spoke over each other, and both stopped as they waited for the other to finish. 

“I’m not,” she finally said, before she could stop herself. But she still refused to look at him. “I…I’m not gonna tell him, Peña. Consider it the only favor I’ll ever do for you.”

He let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as he finally got out of her car. The door slammed against the frame, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he walked around the front to her side of the car. Hesitating, she rolled the window down, finally meeting his gaze as he rested his hand on the roof, leaning down. 

“Thank you, hermosa,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned into the car further. “And for what it’s worth —I’ve never hated you.”

Truthfully, she didn’t hate him either. Looking up at him from her seat, she had the sudden urge to pull him into a tight hug; tell him it was okay. That she understood why he did it. 

But she’d be lying if she did. Because she didn’t understand; not really. 

———

He was drunk.

No, that wasn't accurate.

He was shit-faced.

Javier stumbled through the dimly lit bar, his movements unsteady and his mind clouded by a swirling haze of alcohol. The weight of his actions bore down on him, threatening to suffocate him with a potent mix of guilt and self-loathing. Each step he took was a struggle, as if the weight of his choices had multiplied tenfold.

He had watched her drive away, leaving an empty void in his chest. The taillights of her car faded into the distance, a visual representation of the fracture he had caused in the barely there friendship they had in the first place. She wasn’t supposed to find out; no one was. 

Driven by a mix of remorse and self-loathing, he turned on his heel and sought solace in the numbing embrace of a bottle of whiskey. The nearest bar became his sanctuary, a place where he could drown his sorrows and temporarily escape the consequences of his actions. He slumped onto a barstool, his weary eyes scanning the array of bottles lining the shelves.

As the minutes turned into hours, the world around him became distorted. The sounds of laughter and chatter blended into white noise that didn’t make any sense, and the faces of the patrons merged into indistinguishable shapes. His vision blurred, mirroring the fog that clouded his mind.

Javier's drunken stupor was a feeble attempt to escape the weight of his actions, to find temporary solace in a realm of blurred lines and diminished responsibility. But as the alcohol seeped into his veins, it only served to deepen his self-disgust. The numbness it brought was merely a hollow facade, concealing the pain and regret that gnawed at his core.

As the night wore on and the effects of alcohol began to really make him think shitty ideas were good ones. With the memory of her face —disappointed, angry, teary eyed —front and center in his mind, Javier made a decision. 

He needed to see her, even if it meant facing the wrath of her anger and disappointment. It didn't matter that it was late in the night or that his thoughts were still muddled from the alcohol. He couldn't let her think he was this bad man, trying to fuck up everything they were working towards. 

And he didn’t want her to hate him. Jesus fucking Christ, Javier didn’t want to go back to her snapping at him every time he spoke. Or glaring at him over her paperwork whenever he asked her questions. He liked whatever they had going on —flirting, banter, whatever it was. 

Javier wanted it to keep happening. 

Javier just wanted her, however she would take him. And by her reaction tonight, in her car, his whiskey-addled brain saw something that he hadn’t seen before. 

Driven by a mix of determination and a glimmer of hope, Javier left the confines of the bar and stumbled through the dimly lit streets. Every step was unsteady, but his movements were fueled by a desperate need to find her and see her again.

Minutes felt like hours as he walked down the streets towards the apartments she lived in. The weight of his actions sat heavily on his shoulders, and while he didn’t regret what he was doing —he needed to at least apologize to her. 

Finally, he arrived at her doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he knocked on the door. As he waited, he rehearsed the words he wanted to say to her, hoping that they sounded at least somewhat coherent. 

There was shuffling from behind her door, and Javier glanced at his watch with a frown —realizing it was well past midnight. 

“Shit.”

Panicking, and suddenly feeling far more sober than he was when he was making the walk there, he turned on his heel to walk away. His hands ran through his hair as he started cursing himself for being so fucking stupid. 

As Javier turned to leave, his heart pounding in his chest, he heard her voice calling out to him, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly turned back, his eyes meeting hers. She clearly had been woken up by him, her hair braided but messy from sleep. 

She stood in her doorway, arms crossed over her chest, in her pajamas. Just a thin tank top that revealed the curve of her shoulders and shorts that showcased her slender legs and a look of confusion and frustration on her pretty face. 

Unable to tear his gaze away from her, Javier felt his resolve crumble. The urge to be close to her, to reach out and hold her, consumed him. He took a hesitant step towards her, his heart pounding in his chest. His voice was a mere whisper as he spoke, filled with a mixture of longing and guilt. 

She stepped back, frowning. “Are you drunk?”

He stopped short, recognizing her concern. But he nodded slowly, swallowing hard as he did so. “Just, uh. Just a bit, yeah.”

“Go home, Javier.”

“I can’t, cariño,” he admitted, running his hands over his face then up through his hair. “I…I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

He considered his options –both, neither. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t leave (though he definitely couldn’t), but he knew why he wouldn’t. 

They stood there in the dimly lit hallway, the weight of their complicated relationship hanging in the air. Javier struggled to find the right words, to express the turmoil churning within him. He was not accustomed to vulnerability, especially not with someone like her. They weren’t friends. They didn’t even like each other most days. 

That wasn’t exactly true, though. In recent weeks, they had gotten on better than before. Closer, friendlier. He liked having that in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“You hate me,” he finally managed to say, leaning against her door frame to look down at her. “And that’s fine. I deserve that.”

Her eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of something that he couldn’t pinpoint flashing over her face. She glanced down either end of the hallway, Javier following her movements, before she pushed her door open fully and motioned for him to come inside. There was clear hesitation on his end, standing stiff there for a moment as he considered what she wanted.

“If you can’t leave, Javier, then you need to come inside before I shut the door in your face.”

Decision made for him, he stepped through into the threshold of her apartment, breath stuck in his throat. As she stepped back into her apartment, shutting and locking the door, the atmosphere shifted from the tension-filled hallway to a space that bore the traces of familiarity and comfort. 

He couldn’t help but look around her home –something he truthfully thought he’d never see, because let’s face it: she didn’t want him there. Even if they were friends.

The living area was tastefully decorated, and the walls were adorned with framed photographs capturing cherished memories and moments of laughter. In the corner, a small bookshelf stood on the opposite side of the couch, covered in various books and pieces of her that pulled it all together. The couch was the same couch as his –one provided by the embassy to ensure their agents and workers were at least somewhat comfortable. But throw pillows were stacked haphazardly on each end, with a blanket tossed back as if that was where she was asleep.

It must have been, because the bottle of open wine and empty wine glass sat on her coffee table. Javier stared at it blankly, considering the things he’d done to cause her to want to drink her problems away like he had that night.

She pushed him some, towards the couch, before she yanked the blanket into her arms and sat down. Javier hesitated again –where was the confidence he used to radiate when a woman let him into their home? He should feel cocksure and horny; the one unobtainable woman he’d been pining for since she arrived in Colombia was pushing him onto her couch while she barely wore clothing.

But that wasn’t why he was there. And that wasn’t what she was doing. He wasn’t there to seduce her, or fuck her. He was there to beg for her forgiveness; to have her be his fucking friend again.

"I don’t hate you,” she finally sighed, running her hands over her face. “Not anymore, I mean. I did, at least a couple months ago.”

“What changed that?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down at his hands.

“You finished my notes for me. The ones for Martinez, when we first got set up at the base.”

He blinked a few times, trying to pull up the memory of doing that for her. She never asked him for anything; either out of spite or because she didn’t want to rely on him. But then he nodded some, huffing out a weak laugh as he did.

“You looked like you were going to fall asleep at your desk,” he explained, looking up at her finally. “I just…I felt bad; figured I’d give you a break.”

“That’s when I decided I didn’t actually hate you,” she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest as she looked at him. “I don’t know if I liked you, per se –that took a little longer to accept; that I liked you. That I thought we were friends –but I didn’t dislike you. And I…still don’t hate you.”

Hearing that she thought they were friends made Javier’s heart absolutely ache. He met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and longing. It was in that moment that he realized his feelings ran deeper than he had ever admitted to himself. She looked at him as a friend, and Javier was suddenly realizing he wanted her more than that.

“Probably should.”

“I should,” she agreed, but then she shrugged some, taking a deep breath as she tried to fight back a yawn. “I don’t though. I’m just…I’m disappointed, Javier. Angry, because now I have to lie to the fucking ambassador of the United States. Risk my job. Pretend that I don’t know you’re actually a moron who makes shitty decisions.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” he told her, shaking his head. “You should be covering your own ass, not mine. I told Murphy the same thing –,”

“Good to know that Steve is also a fucking idiot –,”

“Listen to me,” he cut off, turning to face her properly, suddenly serious as he stared her down. “If anyone asks –if someone even so much as hints at you knowing whose working with Los Pepes –you fucking tell them the truth. Do you understand me?”

He watched her closely, his heart pounding in his chest as she contemplated his words. Her exhaustion was evident, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for adding to her burden. But he needed her to understand, to protect herself and let go of any association with him. He didn't deserve her loyalty, especially after what he had done.

“I’d be smart to walk away," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "It would be the right thing, the safe thing. Kick you out, call the embassy. But..." She paused, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper as she continued, "I care about you, for some stupid ass reason. So, maybe I won't tell anyone anything. Maybe I'll protect you."

Her response, however, caught him off guard. Her voice, tinged with weariness and vulnerability, carried a sense of tenderness that he didn't expect. He listened intently, his eyes locked on hers, as she admitted her conflicted feelings. Javier's breath hitched as she revealed her concern; how she felt about him. His heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude, disbelief, and a touch of apprehension. How could she still care after all of this? After everything he’d done to her, how he’d treated her, and what he was putting her through now?

He wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to thank her for her unexpected act of compassion. But a mix of emotions churned inside him, leaving him at a loss for words. Instead, he simply nodded, his throat tight with a gratitude that was choking him.

In that moment, he knew that her decision carried its own risks. He knew that he didn't deserve her protection or her care. But at the same time, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through his chest, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of what he was doing. 

As they sat there, something shifted between the two. There was a thread –a thin, barely there thread that tied them together now. And in that fragile thread, Javier found some sort of comfort. 

“I’m going to bed, Javier,” she sighed, standing up from the couch with a yawn. “You can stay here, if you want –on the couch.” The last part was added quickly, as if she wanted to make sure he knew she wasn’t offering up her bed to him in any way.

He shook his head though, standing up as well. She looked up at him, and Javier couldn’t help but notice just how close the two of them were suddenly. They stood just inches apart, tired eyes gazing at one another. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, his heart pounding in his chest, but he looked away quickly.

“I appreciate it, but I should go,” Javier replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He tried to ignore the sudden urge of longing that coursed through him; ignore the desire to bridge the distance between them and pull her into his arms. But he couldn't act on those feelings, not now, not after everything.

She nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. He could tell she was wrestling with her own conflicting emotions, just as he was. They both knew the boundaries they had set, the unspoken rules that controlled their actions. As they stood there, their gazes locked, Javier's resolve wavered. He wanted to kiss her suddenly. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips. He wanted to lose himself in her.

He was about to pull away; leave her alone for the night so they could pretend nothing happened when they got to work later. But then he felt her hand gently cup his cheek. Her touch was soft, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and a longing of her own. In that moment, she was the one that tore down the boundaries she had put up.

Deciding that he couldn’t take it anymore —gravity was too much and he couldn’t escape the pull of her touch against his skin —he closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands as he pressed his mouth to hers. Months –he’d spent months wanting to kiss her to shut her up. Use the action to get her to be quiet, to stop scolding him. But now, she wasn’t yelling at him or arguing with him. She was pulling him into her touch, biting at his lip, returning the kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling herself closer as returned the kiss –biting his bottom lip as she responded with equal fervor. It was unexpected, her immediate response, but Javier wasn’t going to push her away now that he had what he wanted.

Tracing his tongue along the seam of her lip, he coaxed her lips open and licked into her mouth. A quiet whimper escaped her, and Javier swore he could feel it in his very bones as he pushed her back towards the couch again. One of his hands dropped to her hip, holding her against him tight, as the other tangled into her hair. She mimicked his motions, her hand finding its way down his chest to the exposed skin under his collar as the other tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

As he pushed her into the couch, refusing to break the kiss, she pulled him down on top of her. He rested on his knees, caging her beneath him as her fingers fumbled over the buttons of his shirt. His hands rested above her head, nipping at her bottom lip again while she finally pushed his shirt open and ran her nails down his chest. He hummed into the kiss, rolling his hips into hers involuntarily before finally breaking away to rest his forehead against hers.

They both breathed heavily, staring at each other with lust blown eyes. Her eyes darted from his face down, then back up at him and Javier wondered, momentarily, what she was thinking. Because all he could think about was slipping his hand under her shirt and feeling her skin against his. 

“I can’t just be one of your hook ups,” she whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him from moving further up. “I won’t be, Javier.”

He stared down at her, catching his breath as he slowly nodded. He understood the weight of her words, the depth of her desire for something more meaningful. He pulled his hand back, trailing his fingers over the skin of her stomach gently until his hand wasn’t under her shirt anymore. Instead, he rested it against the fabric of her top, looking down at her. 

“You won’t be,” he assured her, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised even him. “I…I haven’t — this won’t be —I’ve wanted for months….I want you, cariño.”

She searched his eyes, searching for any sign of deception or doubt, but all she found was a sincerity that mirrored her own. Wanting to find comfort in her touch again, Javier leaned in and pressed his lips to her chin –light, barely there. But enough to cause her to suck in a breath as if he had bit her. His hand slipped back under her stop, grasping at the hem of the thin fabric, so he could pull it up carefully. It was easily pulled over her head and tossed to the floor with his shirt –leaving them both bare from the waist up and pressed against one another.

Her hands, somehow impossibly soft, traced down his arms, nails barely grazing his skin. It was a careful gesture, but it was all he needed to continue. Taking to her wandering hands, Javier wrapped them back around his neck before his hands trailed down her sides until they settled at her waist. She sighed at the touch, tugging him closer to her as he gently clasped her waist, drawing her nearer, their bodies pressed together. His fingers pressed into her skin, no doubt leaving marks where his nails dug in. A gasp escaped her, mingling vulnerability with desire, as his tongue slipped into her mouth again. 

Enthusiastically, she pulled him even closer, pressing her body against his like he had dreamed of so many times before. At any moment, he expected to awaken in his bed, painfully alone –painfully hard –left with nothing but fantasies of her consuming his mind. But the feeling of her biting his lip, of her hands fumbling with the button of his jeans reminded him that this was real. She was there, under him, touching him back just as desperately as he was touching her.

“Gonna take care of you, hermosa…,” he whispered, trailing kisses from her mouth down her jaw, to her throat. His hands deftly tugged at her shorts, trying to push them down her hips.

Her hips rose to meet his touch, helping him get rid of the last two pieces of her clothing that kept her from him. Once her shorts were tossed to the growing mess of clothes on her floor, his fingers trailed between her thighs, pressing just barely into her. Her head fell back into the arm of the couch as she whispered his name, as if trying to beg for more. He grinned into the skin of her throat before pressing a kiss there.

“Tell me what you want,” he continued, nipping at her collarbone as his other hand reached up to palm at her breast.

“Take off your pants,” she ordered –though she was breathless and arching into his touch.

Javier chuckled almost darkly into her skin, pinching her nipple as he squeezed her chest. Then he pulled back, sitting up above her. His eyes roamed over her figure hungrily, taking the chance to appreciate each curve of her body as he pushed his jeans and boxers off, kicking them to the side. Most of the women he slept with would try to cover themselves up under his gaze –turn red with sheepish grins. But she just rested her hand behind her head, meeting his eyes for a moment before taking in his naked self as well. Just as hungry for him as he was for her –it made his cock twitch. 

“Still so bossy, even when I have you naked under me.”

“Someone needs to make sure you follow directions.”

Her laugh was airy and light, and Javier grinned down at her as he took his cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly. The way she practically glowed under him, radiating something he wanted to bask in forever, made him want her even more. His other hand slipped between her legs again, where he ran his fingers over her clit and through her wet folds. Her eyes closed in response, arching into the touch with a hum, and Javier savored how wet she was for him. 

Javier adjusted, half kneeling between her legs and pressed wet kisses over her thighs as he spread her open before him. She gasped at the sensation, thighs instinctively closing around his head but Javier tsk’ed, pushing her legs open to continue peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs until his nose brushed just barely against her clit. Her reaction was to shoot her hands down and tangle her fingers in his hair, pleading with him to hurry up. 

He made a satisfied noise, grinning into the skin of her thighs, before finally giving her what she wanted —what they both wanted —and started to lick and kiss at her clit as if it was the last meal he’d ever eat. She gasped, her legs jerking up only for her heels to rest on his back. The sounds she was making —begging, soft and breathless gasps —egged him on, involuntarily causing him to buck his hips into the couch to relieve his own ache. 

“Fuck, Javi,” she moaned, arching up as his tongue delved deep into her core. 

Her reaction only spurred him on, replacing his tongue inside her with a finger —then two, with ease. His tongue circled her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out, setting a steady pace as she clenched around him. She was tight, deliciously so, and the thought of her clenching around his cock was driving him wild. 

“Come for me,” he whispered against her skin, pulling away from her clit just enough to admire her. Watching her chest heave from her ragged breathing, pretty face contorted by pleasure as his fingers continued to disappear in and out of her —she was close, he could feel it as she yanked his hair harder. “Come for me, hermosa.”

His mouth captured her clit one more time, his fingers curling just enough to hit the sensitive spot inside her. She cried out, squeezing his fingers with her pussy while trying to close her legs around him. But he didn’t let her, free hand holding her leg down as he nipped and licked at her clit, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers inside her. 

She cried out suddenly, body trembling, as her orgasm washed over her. He slowed down, but didn’t remove his fingers from her, working her through her climax. She pushed him away from her clit, overstimulated and breathing heavily. He didn’t stay away long before he pulled his fingers  from her and replaced them with his tongue once more, lapping up the juices that soaked her pussy.

“Javi,” she gasped, hands shaking as she pried him from between her legs. 

She pulled him up by his chin, only able because he let her, and kissed him hungrily. This kiss was sloppier, all teeth and tongues, allowing her to taste herself. Javier groaned into her mouth, pulling himself back onto the couch properly, only to yank her by her hips into his lap. Straddling him now, she looked down at him with hazy, lust filled eyes as she grinded against cock.

He hummed, leaning his head back as his hands slid up her waist, gripping the flesh there tight and guiding her movements as he did so. Her hips rolled against him, coating him in the remnants of her climax, and the head of his cock caught against her clit, causing her to hiss in response. Javier grinned, unable to help himself, as his eyes opened to look up at her again. Releasing his grip on her waist, one hand reached up to the back of her head to bring their mouths together again. His other hand groped her chest, pinching and twisting at her nipples as he bit at her bottom lip.

“Javi, please,” she sighed, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe over his lips. She was reaching between their bodies now to grasp his hard cock in her hands. “I need you, Javi, I need –,”

“What do you need, cariño?” He teased, trying to keep his hips from bucking up into her. “Take what you want, baby. C’mon…”

She nodded frantically, rising up onto her knees above him. Javier’s gaze dropped to her hand around him, where she was guiding his cock into her soaked pussy. As she slowly eased him into her, one of her hands shot up to grip his arm, digging her nails into the skin to distract from the stretch. Javier’s head fell back again as she sunk down on him, his hands dropping to her ass just to hold something. Because if he didn’t –shit, he would lose any semblance of control he had. 

Her grip on his arm tightened as their hips met again, sinking him entirely inside her as she tried to adjust to his size. Javier groaned as her walls clenched around him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up –causing her to cry out in surprise and lurch forward, her hands gripping the back of the couch. With her tits in his face, and his hands grasping her ass, Javier was done for –fuck control, he needed to ruin her.

Javier trails his fingers down her arms before wrapping them back around her hips, holding her tight against him as he pistons up into her. She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised cry leaving her lips as he slapped her ass in the process of fucking her. He pulled her up, and she got the hint as she rose to meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock to bring herself closer and closer to the edge.

“Been thinking about this since the first time you yelled at me.” He punctuated his last word with a hard thrust up that had the tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it made her drop her face into his neck, crying out his name. 

“Fuck, Javi –you feel so good– Please, God– please, please–” Her words died in her throat when he yanked her down particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in slow, hard grind. She let out a choked sob of his name, pussy clenching hard around him and stealing a low moan from the back of his throat. 

“Knew you fuckin’ liked me, princesa.”

She moaned again, and Javier jolted up some as he felt her tongue trailing over the vein in his neck and over his jaw. Her mouth was on his again, and he could feel her tightening around him as her wetness started to smear between their bodies. The sound of their skin slapping against skin only urged him forward, each thrust becoming messier and harder. It was almost too much when his one hand dipped between their bodies, fingers fluently toying with her clit.

Between the touch on her clit and the thrusts up into her, Javier could tell she was close and he’d be damned if he came before her. Kissing her harder –all tongue, and teeth, and spit –he sped up his thrusts in time with his fingers on her clit. She bit his lip for a moment before she gasped, closing her eyes tight as her body tensed up under him, only to spasm around him as she came. The only sound she made were airy gasps of his name, begging him to keep going. Javier wasn’t far behind as he thrusted up into her a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop.

She dropped against him, breathing heavily as she slowly came down from her high. Javier’s hand dropped away from her clit, and while his grip on her hip loosened, he didn’t release her from his hold. Her forehead pressed against his neck, tucked just under his chin as she tried to catch her breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath himself, as he savored the moment of her skin against his, holding her close to his chest.

Eventually, however, she adjusted and pulled away from him –pulling his softened cock from her with a wince. He stayed there, however, looking over at her through half squinted eyes. She didn’t move far –having simply slid onto the couch to lean down and rifle through their clothes on the floor. When she came back up, she leaned back against the armrest of the couch, skin slick with sweat and glowing from their post-sex haze. In her one hand was a cigarette, that she lit with a lazy grin, before holding it out to him.

Javier watched her for a few moments before he took the cigarette and snuffed it out, pulling her back down the couch by her ankles. She yelped in surprise, but it devolved into a laugh as he leaned over her and grabbed her chin, kissing her lazily. Her arms wrapped around his neck, returning the kiss eagerly. When he pulled back, Javier melodramatically collapsed onto her, laying between her legs with his head on her chest. Her hand ran through his sweat-drenched curls.

“This doesn’t mean you get special treatment at work,” she murmured, and Javier could just hear the grin in her voice.

“Give me a few minutes to recover, and I bet I can change your mind,” he challenged, though he closed his eyes as she ran her hand through his hair.

“You can try to change my mind by staying, and taking me out tonight,” she countered, and Javier chuckled into her skin, nodding.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

[sea-angel-dancer]

"Oh hello there, would you like to dance ?"

Welcome to the blog! This is a blog for my Pressure OC, Angela ! You can find her info on my main account, specifically in this MASTERLIST here!

This is how the rps will look like

"Greetings, may I inquire about your presence here?" - Angela speaking

She asks as she sees you - description of actions

Ooc : Hello! - Pom speaking

Some things about myself: my main Blog is @pompohills I am 17 and a highschool student with art specialized teaching, I'll post some art of rps here sometimes.

You are welcome to interact with this blog as much as you want as long as you do not break the rules here!

Tags used for Angela #drifting in the sea

Tags used when Pom's talking #stargazing from the abyss

Angela is in a relationship with another (coming soon) her relationship with Sebastian is platonic.

I don't mind Fanart of any kind let this blog be a safe place for your creations (as long as they don't cross boundaries)

I might add that I'm a normal person, and would ask maturity to all people that are interacting with this blog

Rules

- DNI Nsfw, inc3st, m*ps, z0os, n0n-c0n and many other things. I'm a minor and these types of subjects make me uncomfortable.

- Please do not ask about my or my oc's political values, this blog is not the place for political talk. Although please do not interact with me if you support Trump.

- When Role playing, I would ask you to not control my characters as it would be OOC, I would rather my character interacts how she usually would.

- please do not intrude yourself in an rp you are not part of, it will throw me off just as much as the person I'm already roleplaying with.

- Be indulgent with me, my timezone is GMT and I'm a senior in highschool which means that there are times where I won't be able to answer, it doesn't mean I don't see your asks. I'm just really busy-

Now here are examples of scenarios with which you can start the rp, if you choose one starting the rp with the number of scenario scenario you would like to start

You can also start with something else and create a beginning of rp by yourself

-SCENARIO 1-

In the flooded rooms of the hadal blacksite, you happen to stumble upon a siren-like woman, she is quiet, combing her hair with her fingers, seemingly waiting for someone. She hears you approaching and stops in her tracks before addressing you.

"greetings, may I inquire about your presence here ? We are far from the navi-path."

-SCENARIO 2-

While roaming in the halls of the blacksite, you stumble upon two huge wooden doors with a sign reading "THE SHOWROOM". When you enter, the room is pitch black until it is slowly lighted up by a glowing form in what you could discern a huge tank. She approaches the glass to try to get a look at you, but she seems to struggle.

"I can hear you, breathing."

(FNAF REFERENCE LOL)

(because I use ballora's voice for her voice claim-)

-SCENARIO 3- || TW - depiction of violence (cannibalism kinda yeah-)

You have been walking aimlessly around in the halls of the blacksite. Though it is not long before you hear the sound of bones breaking. Should you go investigate ?

[tessarionbestgirl]

Watching the The Making of HBO’s House of the Dragon is great to see how much Ulf and High are. And I appreciate how Ryan threats the so nicely the crew. People have a lot of complains about it e writing and rightfully so. But he is WAY more jungle than D&D.

Said all that. Whatever. It is very telling how they touched the scene firstly and foremost though Rhaenyra perspective and choice. She needs choose violence or peace though Alicent choice. What I thought originally. And now I am more sure of it. This was never about Alicent arc necessary. That is why feels so ooc, that was all about Rhaenyra. The season supposedly wouldn't end here. And now is even more clear.

[dotedlover]

fading stars

summary: ganji knows that lashing out at others when he's upset never brings blessings, so why did he choose to do it anyway? he realizes that he now has to live with the loss of his actions. 

paring: ganji gupta x cecille maduro (identity v ccxoc) 

warnings: vulgarism, violence, cecille looses her shit (bipolar qween), kinda ooc

note: this wouldn't be something that would really happen between the pair, for they don't have many angst moments between them like this. (they are so lovey dovey and cutie patooties). cecille wouldn't want anything to do with eli, nor would ganji ever stoop down to insulting her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You… slept. With him?” Ganji’s hands trembled, heart pounding with a raging adrenaline and his vision began to cloud with unspeakable anger, an uncomfortable lump forming at his throat. The mere mention of Eli Clark always made the Batter’s body be enriched with fury, and this topic made his being set ablaze with an abhorrent amount of jealousy.

The atmosphere in the Greenhouse was glum; the warmth of the sun was sluggishly inching its way towards its final destination. Blue hour flooded the room the two were occupying, the lights that were active pathetically bathed the area with a shallow glow. A distant chatter of those who inhabited the manor flowed to the conservatory, reaching the fretful pair.

“Mmh.” Cecille’s eyes didn’t even dare to meet the scowl and disgust Ganji wore on his face. “Well, not sexually. No.” Somewhere in her heart, Cecille was embarrassed, ashamed. She dreaded and had this dire urge for the topic not to make it back to her ears. Furious, Ganji stood over the Caregiver, unintentionally intimidating the woman who felt her displeasure with herself begin to burrow. She was uncomfortably seated on the ground, back towards the man, tending to flowers that belonged to an ill Gardener. The flowers were slowly losing their vibrant hues, slouched over and dying, the remnants of life had fallen to the ground. They were quiet for a few moments. Cecille then hummed, deciding that her favor to Emma was completed. She felt passionate, burning holes in the back of her skull.

Cecille rose, turning around to meet Ganji’s gaze, which was beyond displeased. Doing her best to ignore it, she made an effort to quickly move past him. However, the athlete wouldn’t budge, his movement mimicking that of a mannequin.

“Excuse me.” Her eyebrows furrowed, trying to not harm any of the plants with her dress as she still attempted to budge by. 

“You know he still likes you.” Ganji declared, his voice dulled. It lacked any form of life, dead and flat. The scorching inferno in his eyes now diminished into cinders, equivalent to the attitude of his voice. Ganji extended his scarred hands between her deltoids and triceps, cautious of her shoulder blades. “You sleeping with him makes him think you’re taking him back.” Her embarrassment slowly began to dissolve. 

Cecille sneered. “I am never getting back with him. We are just friends.” 

Ganji could only give a sardonic, trenchant scoff at her statement. “Who the fuck sleeps with someone else in bed if you’re ‘just friends’?!” 

Ganji was beginning to tread on her divine patience. 

“What are you implying, Gupta?” Her eyes constructed themselves into slits. “You should know me better than that. I am not doing anything wrong, nor am I picking favorites. I do it with whoever needs my help.” Maybe her stubbornness, maybe her morality, but she believed she was correct. In some outlandish sense, she was. 

The only problem that lingered was who she comforted. His jealousy inched towards ignition once more; repeatedly striking a match against its box, but only produced sparks without a flame. However, Ganji was taken aback at her sternness, silent. He stared at her eyes that reflected the somber lighting in the room. 

“If you’re concerned about my virtues, no. I wouldn’t do that if I was in a relationship. I’m not a whore.” 

That was definitely not what he was implying.

Ganji was an individual who called upon her services much too often. The man can remember the first time she arrived in his barren room; his few treasures from home were laid out upon his desk, the dormitory lacked personality. The Batter was an inconceivable wreck. A disgusting loss streak that chipped away at his ego and pride, hungry from the lack of familiar and edible food, and the passing birthday of a mother who waited for her baby’s arrival back at home in India. He snapped at anyone who let their eyes linger on him for too long, barking back at those who asked what was wrong with him.

Even in the setting where hope was offered, there was nothing but dry and meaningless promises in this lawless hell. 

However, on this particular night, Cecille was his star. The woman happened to work dinner service that evening; the survivors who attended the dinners thanked whatever god they believed in for her cooking. She always made extra, serving enormous portions that were borderline gluttony. However, she knew that carrying the responsibility of occupying this purgatory, being used as some sort of laughing-stock in an author's sick and twisted mind where you’d endure eternal anguish, would at some point call for exhaustion and hunger. 

She arrived in Ganji’s room with a plate that belonged to him, still warm and comforting. She gently moved his despondent being from his disheveled mattress to his desk, gently relocating his precious valuables and placing the familiar food on the flat surface. Although not a traditional dish from India, she told him it was called mole. It was a Mexican dish, and she made fresh tortillas to go with it. This was the closest cuisine he had to home, for neither he nor Naib knew how to cook more than simple meals. A gentle warmth of nostalgia traveled through his body.

Ganji lightly wept as he ate, the dramatic lighting of golden hour bounced off of every available surface in the room. Cecille tore everything off of his bed that the manor offered, replacing it with soft, fresh linen, warm comforters, and large, fluffy pillows. She folded the itchy and uncomfortable blankets and placed them into the corner of the empty room. She patiently waited for the sorrowful man to scrape up whatever was left on his plate. Ganji usually took his time as he had his meals, but he had been starving. Hunger dug deep into the pit of his stomach, feeling nauseated and frequent pain in his abdomen. Her cooking made it all disappear. 

Once finished, he stared at the woman who occupied the edge of the bed, playing with the ends of her hair. She wasn’t paying attention, but Ganji was now able to examine her person in a more intimate setting. The alluring light of the setting sun blanketed the room, making Cecille appear as if a god decided to make her his most divine angel. Her appearance and traits seemed to be hand-picked from the beauty of the stars and the comfort of a warm home. Gorgeous tanned skin shimmered like gold in the light, dark hair uncontained from her head-wrap looked soft. 

Cecille looked up from her own little world to check up on Ganji. His heart fired and began to thump, embarrassment flushed his body with an unfamiliar excitement with special attention to his ears, neck, and face. It was new, enthralling, and oh-so addicting. He didn’t even care (nor dare) to look away when she gave a smile; her brown eyes crinkled and seemed to glow a precious gold in the sun. Ganji’s breathing quickened, he felt lightheaded, his stomach flipped and turned in a foreign way. 

The whole experience at that moment made him feel euphoric. It wasn’t the same as the praise of his performance or adrenaline that hit him during a match which was something he’d always looked out for. This experience, this feeling, hit him like a truck. 

He knew that he’d abandon the chase of praise and adrenaline for a fraction of whatever this was. 

And it could only be from her. 

“Come,” She cooed, patting the empty space next to her. The vacant seat beside her was calling his name. “Want me to tuck you in?” 

Maybe Ganji wouldn’t admit the eagerness and exhilaration that reeked from the speed of his journey from the chair then next to Cecille, but it was damn obvious. Ganji made his home comfortably next to her, she reached her hand out to rub gentle circles along his back. Her touch sent a rippling feeling to every inch of his body, and he was accepting of it all.

“It’s all okay. Don’t get too stressed out about matches. We don’t have any consequences- maybe it damages your pride a little.” She lightly joked, having an upwards inflection in hopes of not sounding rude. Although Ganji would miss the contact her hand had on his back, he decided her promise would be much more rewarding in return; so he laid down on his new and comfortable bed. 

“You are okay with this, right?” Cecille asked out of curiosity, for almost all of the previous attempts of affection that were initiated from her had been rejected. 

“Yeah,” Ganji let out a shaky breath, he was elated. 

Cecille smiled at him, pulling the large covers over his body, making sure that he was comfortable. She was adjusting his pillow from underneath his head, and Ganji was allowed to take another look at her face. He was allowed to observe every freckle she donned, how her eyelashes fluttered against her skin. The moment was quick, but he absorbed every single part of it. Ganji didn’t want to seem like a creep, but the close proximity allowed him to realize that she smelled nice too. Maybe the woman’s thoughts were somewhere else, maybe she didn’t want to embarrass Ganji, or maybe she just thought he was cold; but he was shaking from excitement. 

Once Cecille finished making Ganji comfortable, she stood at the side of his bed. There was a moment of silence between the two, they both simply stared at one another. Usually, this would be awkward, but the moment felt right. Ganji’s thoughts were racing, feeling so many different emotions at once. Everything was powerful, and he had to have more. 

“You have to not be so hard on yourself, Gupta,” Cecille began to walk around his bed, making her way to the door. “Have a good night.” She reached for the doorknob. 

Ganji immediately shot up from his bed. He does not yet know how Cecille has him feel, how she somehow pulled this new version that even he has never met. His heart raced, this time anxious. Ganji was nervous, the feeling of nausea took over his body.

No, no, no. He couldn’t have her leave just now. 

“Wait!” He shouted louder than he meant to. Cecille froze and looked over her shoulder. “Can… Can you stay?” He said a little quieter this time, the embarrassment began to eat at him again. However, he became scared observing her reaction. She just stood there near the entrance of his room, staring at the man; he couldn’t quite pinpoint her thoughts, for her face seemed to have no emotion. 

“Hm.” Is all she said, still standing in place. The silence, it was deafening. It rang in his ears like an alarm that would echo along the floors and walls of halls that would take an eternity to pass through.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

His palms began to clam. What was he thinking? Of course he’d fuck everything up, this special time that they had together. Things just seemed to be perfect, everything aligned with her around. Now he felt shame riddle his body, chipping away at whatever confidence he had in the moment. Every precious interaction that he had built with her began to crumble down, all he did was pour gasoline on it and light it. Within the past half hour he felt healed, he felt new; but now, he just pulled back the scab just to let it bleed.

“Fuck, just- Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” He flipped around, his back facing her. He childishly covered his face with his blanket, facing the window that still welcomed that precious glow shine through the fabric. He felt disgusted in himself, he wished he could just take everything out. His throat felt tight, tears began to form at his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What did he allow to come over him?

Ganji did not know what made him bring down the sturdy walls he constructed brick by brick, the timeless hard work that he spent every longing day assembling. Something that he took ages to build for the sacred protection of himself as a whole; everything he was had been locked up in a cold, barren cell. He knew that tearing the protection down would only bring bad things, so why did he do it anyway? 

Ganji does believe that he just ruined everything with the beguiling woman who still stood in his room. Ganji does believe that the sight of this woman in the hall would make his heart ache, but he would make it his mission to avoid her. 

Then, peace. It swallowed him whole. Her weight on the bed, the thunk of shoes on the floor, and the comfortable sigh she let escape her mouth as she made herself cozy seated in his bed lifted all worries.

She quietly laughed. “I don’t mind.” She whispered to him from the other side of the blanket. She reached to uncover him. “Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t mind staying here.” 

His heart soared. 

She inched closer, searching for any signs of protest. When they were absent, Cecille sat close, reaching her hand for his beautiful curly hair to remove his headband that she assumed caused him a disgusting headache. She shimmied down, her back facing the man out of respect. Warmth radiated off of the two, their beautiful night coming to an end, the sun finally made its way past the horizon. 

Ganji knows that he will chase her warmth whenever he has the chance. He knows that her touch would be the only thing that he craves, he’d chase her saccharine praises that he’d be sure to leak from her mouth when he’d go above and beyond to show off in front of her. How’d she tell him how stunning he looked as he ran to her chair heroically to save her, how he’d insist that he would be the only one to come to her aid, and would bark back to others if they were her savior. For he would not want to hear any words that were meant for him to be directed to someone else.

God forbid he overheard the praise while she comforted her rescuer once they were finally safe, “Wow, look at you, what would I do without you? Ohhh, my knight in shining armor.” She’d laugh and hold them lovingly as Ganji would watch from afar as envy would infest his body.

He would do anything to have her loving presence in his room, for her hands to play with is curly hair to put him asleep. For her to accept his plea of being in her arms, to be reminded of a hope that he thought was long gone.

As the two fell asleep in the company of one another, Cecille muttered a promise. 

“You’re a good man, Ganji, ” She slowly stretched her neck to his shoulder, the pressure of her mouth giving him a comforting kiss goodnight. “I promise to take you home.”

Thinking that this is how she was with Eli that night vigorously struck the match against its box, setting it aflame. Ganji’s jealousy roared.

“Go ahead then! Tell him that you’re just ‘friends’! Tell him that you dont give a single fuck and that he dosen’t mean jackshit to you anymore!” He reached for Cecille, but she looked at the man in astonishment and pushed his hands away. “Tell him that it didn’t mean anything, and see how fucking disappointed he gets and watch him leave you again! For him to throw you aside after using you like you’re some fucking toy!”

Cecille did not move. She gave Ganji a look of disbelief, and it slowly became one of scorn. 

“Tell him that, and maybe he’ll just fucking leave you! Just like everyone else in your unfortunate fucking life!” Cecille squinted her eyes, biting her lip to not make a sound. Ganji could not seem to stop the malicious and ugly words from spewing. For he was in pain and had no other way to let out the hate he felt for Cecille’s actions. Her hands turned themselves into fists, nails digging into her palms. “Maybe you’ll lose him too! Maybe he’d be gone like your ex-fiancee and all of those damn fucking kids!”  

Silence. 

The sudden halt of pernicious words left a bleeding wound. The crickets that occupied the greenhouse seemed to gossip; the lack of conversation that previously filled the manor was now gone. This will surely be a juicy scandal for the weeks to come, hearsay that even the walls would become familiar with. 

The Batters breathing was loud as his adrenaline began to fade. The clouds of anger began to dissipate, leaving him to finally observe the damage that has been done. 

There was the woman who owned his heart standing in front of him. There was a new expression on her face that he had never seen her don, and he became frightened; for now the weight of his actions came crashing down onto his body, bringing a guilt that surpassed anything that he’d ever felt. 

Despite her tears, there it was. Disgust. Horror. Outrage. 

Ganji could practically feel the loathing bubbling from Cecilles core.

Then, Cecille mumbled something faint, quick, and fleeting. Ganji could not quite catch it. However, any thinking was cut short by a crack to his nose. Cecille had taken her chances, throwing a blind swing though angry tears. Blood spewed, Ganji was taken aback from the force, shuffling away from Cecille as his heel met a decorative rock. The woman lunged as he fell, placing all of her weight upon his legs so he would be unable to get up. Her hand met his face once more.

“How,” Smack. “Fucking,” Another smack. “Dare you.” She seethed through her teeth, clasping her hands and raising them towards the heavens. She brought her fists down to his chest, smashing down all of her might onto the Batters sternum. In some sense, Ganji was not surprised; he pushed this poor woman to her edge. She choked sobs from her mouth, angry grunts and screams of incoherent pricks of words. She continued slamming her hands onto his chest, and Ganji could not do anything but pathetically lift his hands to block hers. So far, all of her barely conceivable words stung like paper cuts. 

“You’re fucking just like him! That son-of-a-bitch! We were doing so good and then he ruined everything! He killed everyone I loved and left me to fucking DIE!” Cecille roared at the top of her lungs, shortly halting her violence at his chest, reaching for his face. 

This comparison did not “sting like paper cuts”. Instead, this was a knife straight to the heart. However, Ganji made no rebuttal. He knew better than to be bold with her on this topic. He knew he shouldn't have let those ugly words flow out as if that is what he truly meant. He regretted it all. 

There was that moment of gentleness, she held his face as she slid her thumb against the blood that ran down from his nose, attempting to wipe it off. Failure. It only smudged. Her angry eyes slowly seemed to dissipate, turning to a look of bittersweetness. They flickered around his oh so beautiful and bloody nose, apparently the scar upon it's bridge wasn’t enough damage. She quickly pulled her chilly hands away from his cheeks, placing them in their new home in her own face this time, ignoring the blood still present on her fingers. She began to grieve on top of his chest, and this time he made no effort to even push her off. He took this last bit of warmth from her as their final interaction. 

“I… oh my God. I can’t believe I loved him.” Her hands went back to his head, gently lifting it up once more so their eyes met. “I can’t believe I thought you were different, Ganji.” Disbelief, an airy statement of disappointment. Ganji could only choke at the realization. Like Cecille, tears began to form in his eyes.

These two people who had everything they ever knew or what they ever wanted torn away from them. 

Ganji, the loss of his home, a mother, a family, a loved one.

Cecille, the loss of her home, being a mother, having a family, to be a bride. 

She lingers there, holding his head gently, caressing his face. Maybe Ganji doesn't catch on, but she’s waiting for him to throw some sort of apology, something half-assed, scraps thrown to her like a dog. Nothing comes. Maybe she doesn't deserve one. She accepts that thought, however, not before scowling and letting him go. 

Ganji has heard rumors of Cecille's alternating mood swings. He's never had the first hand experience up until now, nor has he taken it upon himself to ask her about it, not wanting to offend her with assumptions that may be false. Now, he realizes that this woman has high-high's and low-low's. He couldn't seem to shake off the eeriness of her screams immediately halting into sweet lingering touches. It made his head spin in ways more than one.

The woman decides that she has lingered for long enough. Cecille rises, looking down at Ganji’s body. He’s defeated, tired, in dismay realizing how much he’s lost. He now knows it's all gone. It vanished before he even knew he owned it. Cecille wipes Ganjis blood from her fingertips on her white apron, she could care less of how much of a pain it will be to remove. 

“Don’t talk about my ‘fucking kids’ like that.” 

As Ganji looked up at her figure for the last time, he saw that hateful look on her face once more.  He never thought he’d be on the receiving end. 

“I thought you were better than this, Ganji.” She speaks to his figure, now attempting to use any strength to prop himself up onto his elbows. Somewhere in her heart, she still pities this man. Tearing off her apron, she throws it to his pathetic state, for he is shaking on the floor.  She knows she doesn't want it back. 

She’s quiet, staring at Ganji who scrambles for her apron, more tears begin to flow. Whatever blessing she thought Ganji was is now completely gone. He is no longer her star. She swallows thickly at the idea, berating herself internally for letting something like this happen again. 

“You’re acting like I broke your heart.” 

She turns swiftly around, leaving Ganji in the dark Greenhouse. They both know that if she doesn't make it back to her room in time, there will be people stopping her along the way. Their prying disguised and coated with fake concern. Anything to fill their entertainment in this disgusting hell-hole. How pathetic. 

Making her way out of the door, she blubbers muddled words that Ganji could not quite comprehend. He does, however, catch a fleeting name. Oh, poor Cecille; crying for her twin brother back home.

[ciaossu-imagines]

to be honest rhe "choose violence" asks are all compelling! I can not pick one soooo

just pick which you would like to answer! I would love to hear your thoughts on all of it but I want you to decide how much you can and want go answer

Okay, but thank you so much for wanting to hear my thoughts on these and for giving me the freedom to decide which I felt comfortable chatting about. Since no particular fandom was requested, I did just kind of general fandom answers and hope that my answers amuse, cause some thinking, or at least don’t piss off people too much!

The character everyone gets wrong

Honestly, I live and die by the thought that everyone has the right to interpret a canon character however they wish. They’re not hurting anyone, viewing the character differently or even completely opposite to how they’re written in canon. No matter how OOC I think their portrayal of the character is, I don’t think it’s any of my business, as long as they’re having fun. I say this but…there’s one minor exception and it comes back to my days in the Harry Potter fandom. I have seen so many excuses made for Severus Snape, so many rewrites of him as this tragic heroic character, the paragon of knowing what it is to love truly and deeply. Nah, my dudes. Snape was a racist sad sack incel who felt entitled to Lily’s love and called her slurs when she didn’t return it. Having a bad past, being bullied? That’s no excuse for him literally not caring if this chick’s husband and child died, as long as he could have his shot with her. That’s no excuse for him literally joining what was basically magical KKK. That’s no excuse for him growing up to become such a huge bully towards literal children that one of his students literally had him as their greatest fear. Tragic hero my ass. The man wasn’t fully evil and he did do good, in the end. But he wasn’t such things of myths and legends and he can exist as both a horrible person and as someone who did good things.

Screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

I really do hate just the recent trend in fandom of not interacting. I don’t just mean that people have stopped interacting with posts and with artists and writers, though that is most definitely true and it’s incredibly frustrating to see. I mean it in a larger sense than that. Going from what fandom was back then to what fandom is now, I really do feel like overall, there’s less interaction between fans. I don’t even know how to explain it but I remember how easy it used to be make fandom friends. There were super active Discord servers, yeah, but even before that, you’d make friends commenting on people’s fics or through writing fics on ff.net. There were active writer’s groups for fan writers where you’d get to talk to people, both about writing fics and fandom in general. There were lots of rp boards. You’d get interaction just making fandom-centric music mixes. You’d get lots of interaction hosting a blog like mine. No matter how introverted you were, you could always find a safe place and friends in fandom. But it feels more and more like it’s hard to find any of those things now. It feels like somewhere along the way, fandom became almost commercialized and now it’s consume this thing, move on. Put out this thing that takes hours of your time for a handful of likes and be grateful for that because you’re only supposed to create for the simple joy of creation (which yes, creating fandom stuff should be fun, but if it was only ever done for the reason of enjoyment, there’s really no reason to share it – people generally share fandom stuff because they’re excited to share it with fellow fans, they’re looking for that interaction and that feedback and for other people to be excited with them) and then move on. It feels like it takes a shit-ton more time and energy now to find those fandom spaces to meet people and make friends in and it’s just not a trend that I’m really the biggest fan of, though this is, of course, just my view and perception of things and maybe I’m wrong.

What was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

People can be rude and mean to me all they want, but being mean or rude towards any of my friends or readers? Instant block from this particular blog. Stealing work also earns you an instant block. On my personal blog, just being ignorant towards people will make me pre-emptively block you, even if we’ve never interacted. I figure if people are that comfortable using this platform to hate, then they’re probably not people I’m ever going to want interacting with me or my art.

Common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Characters do not have to be rewritten so that they’ve never done anything bad, excuses don’t need to be made wildly to excuse every bad thing they’ve done, they don’t need to be rewritten to be perfect – always doing the right thing, communicating so healthily and with proper therapeutic terms to the point you have to wonder when this character went through extensive therapy, super strong mentally and emotionally but still able to be vulnerable, no flaws besides a few superficial ones that everyone easily forgives except for those bad guys to be interesting and ‘good’. Characters can and should be flawed, characters can and should make mistakes and do the wrong thing every now and then. Writing a character who isn’t universally loved and right and good, writing a character who does horrible things or has views that aren’t kosher – none of those things make the character OR ESPECIALLY THE WRITER a bad person. Writing a character with not-so-great views doesn’t mean the writer holds those views. Basically, be able to separate the writer and the character and know that it’s okay for characters to be well…human. To mess up or be massively unhealthy and to still like them despite that. I hate washing down of a character to sanitize them, I really, really do, both in canon characters and OC’s because it just makes them feel flat to me, and I’m really sorry to anyone whom that offends.

Worst part of canon

I completely understand, as a writer, that it’s almost impossible to fully explore every character in your work, to delve into all their backstories and to give them all their days in the spotlight. That’s the worst part of any canon work to me – there’s never enough space and time in a properly done story for us to really get to know all the characters and because of that, there’s always going to be at least one or two characters who remain forever flat and unloved, despite how interesting they look and seem. Thankfully, that’s what fanfiction is for and I’ve often found fics for these characters that really endear me to them and shape how I view them.

Worst part of fanon

You guys all know how I’m going to answer this. You guys all have heard me rant and rave about this a million times – it’s the tendency of fandom to prioritize and make only romantic relationships important. Two characters can’t have a meaningful relationship and bond without secretly wanting to fuck, or so some parts of fandom would have you believe. Two characters can’t be just close friends without secretly wanting to date each other. It completely disregards how important platonic bonds are, how much familial relationships shape us, how strong a bond hatred towards another person can forge, how much we rely on co-worker relationships, on student/teacher relationships, how literally important relationships of all kinds and shapes are. It also kind of erases the existence of aromantic people and characters. Some people are just generally not interested in romance in any sort of way, and they deserve to find plenty in fandom to latch onto just as much as people who love romance do. I am not saying romantic relationships are bad and should be stopped when it comes to fandom stuff. Go ahead, ship, fill your boots, as long as you’re respectful about it of course. Tell me all the fluff and cute things about these relationships. Fine. But I firmly believe that other types of relationships should be more loudly explored in fandom as well, without people automatically taking that discussion and turning it into an automatic ‘well, yeah, that’s because they’re in love with each other, duh?’

Worst blorboficiation

Okay, I’m not answering this one so much as I’m admitting to be an old fuddy-duddy. Leaning on a cane, shooing people off my yard, and grumbling about the new-fangled fancy speech. In other words, I don’t know what this word means, please someone explain it??

That one thing you see in fanart all the time

I will say this plain and clear and take any harsh feedback on this. If you’re only using AI to create ‘fan art’, you’re not an artist and you’re using a tool created through theft of artist’s actual hard work. I see AI art more and more frequently and it vaguely pisses me off every time.

You can’t understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc.)

I really don’t see the appeal of romanticized yandere or of the A/B/O trope, but that’s just me. I ask that people don’t share things along those lines with me and as long as those boundaries are respected, other people can fill their boots with those tropes and enjoy because people are allowed to like things I don’t really get!

You’re mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like…

NOTHING. Repeat with me – cringe culture is dead. I am allowed to like any and everything I like without having to worry about whether it’s ‘cool’. Cool is a social construct that is perpetually changing and feeling guilt or shame because you enjoy something that other people are telling you is wrong to enjoy is a waste of your time and mental energy. Don’t buy into that – enjoy what you enjoy! Talk about it, create for it, let it live in your head and let it make you happy.

Topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

Sorry, not sorry, but it’s shipping. I’d say about 80-90% of fanwank and fandom arguments and drama and fights in fandom boil down to ‘I don’t like what they ship/they ship something different from me/they ship the character I love with themselves and that pisses me off/they’re shipping the wrong way wah wah wah’. Honestly guys, it’s a large part of why I don’t really ship. I mean, growing up in early aughts fandom that 80-90% was 95-99% of fandom wank, since I grew up in the days of Ichigo/Rukia or Ichigo/Orihime and Sakura in the Naruto scene and whether she belonged with Naruto or Sasuke or whether she belonged dead because she was standing in the way of the boys being together and what do you mean, you ship with an OC? And that OC? They’re trash and mary-sue and you’re dumb for making them, especially shipping them with my fave character and after living through all that wank and drama, I just can’t really find it in me to want to ship outside of just shipping all my friend’s OC/self-inserts with their respective fictional others. There’s much less wank when you’re just supporting friend’s ships and getting into them and when there is, I can easily be like ‘I ship it because you see that character there? My friend made that gorgeous beast. Do you not have eyes, Susan? Can you not see how wonderful that character and ship is? No? Go see the fucking optometrist then.”

Common fandom complaint that you’re sick of hearing

Okay, I know the KHR fandom will tear me apart on this one and I sort of apologize in advance. But honestly guys…I want it as much as the next person, since the anime was nowhere near what the manga deserved, but we’re never going to get a reboot. I mean, it’s been 14 years since the anime ended. God, do I feel old typing that out. I do think the best we can hope for at the moment is really just a good English dub, hopefully a full one, that will revitalize the fandom a bit and maybe a couple small one-shot manga’s or spin-offs for other media.

[kirathespira]

Step 1: Basic OOC Information

Please start by providing the following details:

Your Alias, Timezone, & Pronouns- Min, EST, She/her, Activity Wise I can be fully on thursday-saturday, Mon-Wed I'm studying to be a medical assistant/practice test (Labor Day and holidays of that nature being exceptions)

Muse’s Name(s) Byeol-nim Beryl Choi

Tagging System Link so I will be using r;beryl or m;beryl

First Part of Your App ( Optional! ) Read that disaster here

Content Warnings: death tw , violence tw

Step 2: Muse's Statistics

Next, fill out the following statistics for your muse:

Full Name: Byeol-nim Beryl Choi

Nickname:Beryl, Berry, Byeollie (use this one with caution

Date of Birth:October 15th 2375

Gender: Cis Woman

Pronouns: She.her

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Romantic Orientation:Demiromantic

Current Age:Twenty six

Modification: sighir

Affiliation:X Academy and Overseers

Birthplace: Mawar District

Current Neighbourhood:Sora Between X headquarters and Jakarta General

Occupation: Scientist Informant

Known Languages: Korean, Japanese (for Jaito), Cia-Cia (Austronesian dialect used with hangul letters, using this for personal notes and extra confidental recordings)

Step 3: Choose Your Creation Style

OPTION A) TRADITIONAL BIOGRAPHY

October 15th 2385

The ten year old adjusted her device with the help of her father. There was a look of axcitement in her eyes. "Hiiiiiiiii." She said with a hint of enthusiasm. "I'm Byeol-nim. And I will be your next top idol!" She said with a laugh. Her father with his salt and pepper hair appeared on the screen. "Byeollie maybe have two goals." Byeollie looked at her father in awe. "Then I will be just like you Apa." Byeol said with a smile. "A scientist." There was a shared laugh between the two of them a sort of promise.

December 15 2387

The fifteen year old Byeol came to the camera. She showed the acceptance paper on screen.There was a laugh before she had a slight look of mischief in her face. She went down stairs before hiding the camera. "Dad I got in." There was a tired look before her father realized. Her dad gave her the tightest hug. "That's my Byeollie." There was laughter. But she didn;t know it was the last time.

October 15 2395

The twenty year old was on camera she was on her knees. There was a bite mark on her arm. "I-I-I don't know if I'll make it." She said her voice hoarse. "Whats going on." SHe turned her camera everyone was gone but she saw her dad. "Apa...APA..." The video cut off

Octiber 16th 2395

The twenty year old was sobbing in the hospital bed. "I'm alive but-" Byeol couldn't finish her sentence. "Apa. I hope-" She was cut off by the doctor. "I have your tests resules." And the doctor covered his hand on the camera. Byeol can be last be heard repeating nos and denials.

October 15 2396

The twenty one year old looked more hardened more out garish. She was still wearing the same lab coat from the day before, her cheeks guant. "Everyday feels the same and different. Like my mind desires more. To see everything ruined." She shook her head. "No I don't want that. I'm still Byeol." The tears streamed down her face. "Nothing can change that!"

October 15 2397

It was the net year and Byeol looked healthier, there was a sneer to the camera. "Why the hell I do this again?" She asked. "I could be setting up explosions but my doctor said to keep doing this to monitor my condition-" There was a maniacal laugh. "You tell them you want to be called Beryl and all hell breaks lose." There was a look at the camera. "I'm better now."

Present day

There was a look on her face as she watched the videos, it was something she did every year on her father's birthday. She saw the young naive self and she saw the image she wanted to be. The tears streamed down her face before she heard a knock. "Can't having these assholes think I'm weak." She said

OPTION B) INSPIRATIONS

Quote: Although I've made quite a few "Mutually Assured Destruction" Buttons, it's not like I'm going to blow up everything I see…

Label or Archetype: Mad Scientist, Clipped Wing Angel, The "Why Wait?" Combatant, Trap Master

Tropes : (Broken Bird, Didn't Think this Through, Creepy Good, Public Hater, Private Fan, Dont you dare Pity me

Media Parallels: Sparkle (Honkai Impact: Star Rail), Seiko Kimura (DanganRonpa 3: future arc), Dr. Neiko Arach (Tsukihime), Flandre Scarlet (Touhou Project)

Theme Song: U.N. Owen was her?

OPTION C) PERSONALITY

Points: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Constitution 3 , Wisdom 4, Intellegence 6, Charisma 8

Positive Traits: ambitious, charistimatic, brave

Neutral Traits: independent, reflective, esoteric

Negative Traits: brash, vengeful, impulsive

Peeves: Overly preppy people, rebels, the word toliette, being underestimated

Fears: to die alone, for people to see the her scars, being vulnerable enough to touch someone again

Skills: blueprint production, meets deadlines, quick on their feet with weapons

Goals: Find their father figure out what they really want out of life

OPTION D) YOUR MUSE’S APPEARANCE

Faceclaim:Go Minsi

Height: 5'1

Eye Colour: brown

Hair Colour: black with red streaks

Clothing Style: labcoat, ironic tee, steam punk ventallor, finger less clothes, mad scientist/pokemon scientist core will wear change it up to trench coats

Jewellery: Nipple Piercings (svg episode)

Tattoos: A star on her right shoulder

Marks/Scars: The bitemark on her arm, laced injuries on the small of her back

Modifications:Nah

Scent/Fragrance:Lavender Epsom Salt and Brown Sugar

Other fun facts

Beryl essentially jailbreaked a virtual vocolaid assistant to do all her break ins

Very choatic neutral

If you tell her not to do something she definetely will do it just to annoy you

Secretly loves movies like Dilan 1990, Dilan 1983, and The Sinking of van der Wijck but if you mention them she will pretend not to know those movies

Is not allowed to drive so she skateboards to work

Beryl actually hates berries with a passion

[tenebrius-excellium]

YOU WATCHED TRIGUN STAMPEDEEEEE??? HOWD U FIND IT WHATRE YOUR THOUGHTS !!

I CONFESS I WAS THE ANON ON YOUR BLOG YOU STUPID (affectionate) FRIEND; I GOT IT FROM YOU!!!

I LOVED IT!!!

Thanks for the accidental recommendation! :P

Ok I know NOTHING about anime, okay? Anything I say was great or not so great might refer to Trigun Stampede specifically, or it might just be an anime thing in general because That's What An Anime Is. I can't tell the difference.

LOVED the intro song (Tombi by Kvi Baba). Constantly listening to it right now. It's hauntingly beautiful yet so easy-going and chill. I looked up the lyrics and they're about being a light in the darkness, I dig that theme!

LOVED Meryl from the start. A level-headed young lady who craves the truth, justice, and knowledge beyond herself because it's the right thing to do. She cares so much. She doesn't steal any spotlight by interfering or by being dramatic. She simply observes, listens to instructions that will save her life, and draws her own conclusions. I'm glad we got to experience the plot through her perspective first! A "journalist investigating a story" may seem like such a dumb start - could be Hallmark. But in this Space Western setting, it's perfect.

VASH MY BELOVED. I hated his intro because it made him seem so dumb and silly. There's a difference between making a character seem naive so that he gets underestimated (bringing in the - surprise! - big guns later), and making him outright ooc to create a false first impression. Idk I knew that his FIRST scene where he needed a bullet was not how his character would remain.

HIS CHARACTER DESIGN IS SO COOOOL!!! Idk from the outfit down to his martial arts skills matched with radical forgiveness and pacifism - DUDE. He's very complex. Idk yeah he lets himself get shot in total surrender but there is the part where one bullet won't immediately kill him and he knows it. There's also the part where Wolfwood challenges him on his beliefs, saying that for all his "peace and love on planet earth" talk he sure does not clean up after the messes he creates. The thing is - it's not so much about taking responsibility for the bounty on his head or something, but rather for the fact that his behavior evokes confused, angry and frightened reactions because it comes unexpected to a human society that is drilled on survival. As much as he CHOOSES not to use violence time and time again, I think he needs to cultivate some awareness that this is unusual behavior and that it triggers people to do crazy things (based on insecurity) around him. On the positive side, he confronts each and everyone with their personal tolerance for violence and tests their hearts that way. Beautiful.

The team is so well balanced! Vash, Wolf, Meryl, and Roberto - Dream Team!

The actions scenes take my breath away. They are so so so so good. I am noticing the attention to detail and the accuracy to skill that everyone is describing. I am also highly enjoying the ingenuity of new moves and awesome use of weapons, physical strength and surroundings. I'm sorry, I can't explain the brilliance of these moves well - but you already know what I mean.

I didn't quite get the in-depth explanation of the conflict I think??? Like, I'm still not quite sure what a Plant is, why Vash and Nai are more intelligent than the rest of them, why they were in space to begin with and what exactly Knives was trying to achieve by traveling to a higher dimension? I really didn't get the angel theme and why Vash suddenly developed a wing and became dark (I like his darker look tho). I also don't quite understand Nai as a character. To ensure the survival of Plant seems like an understandable cause for his actions, but why be so cruel and uncaring about it? It doesn't explain his maniac barbarity. Explanations are more than welcome!

What is your obsession with Livio about?? I mean I know, he was epic in that one scene he appeared in, and his bond with Wolfwood was genuine and deep. But he literally took himself out like a light, so... where's all that additional Livio content coming from? It's also really sad. Like... he never even gave himself one minute after waking up. That was a bit morbid.

Oh my gosh Vashmeryl is the og canon? I'm happy there wasn't any forced romance between anyone in this season. Only platonic connections for once. Amazing. Whatever Vash and Meryl end up as, I'll support both.

If there comes a Season 2, I will watch it!!! I don't know how far I'll take Trigun Stampede in fandom, but believe me, watching this has positively altered me forever. It's so FRESH.

Again, thank you for the unintentional recommendation!

Cheers

Reddie