#or do they get called guards at some point.

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[kitab00m101]

Holy- HOW IS THIS SO TRAUMATIZING (OP I LOVE YOU FOR THIS)

Adding onto some of them with headcanons of my own (TW selfharm-death-mental illness-blood❗️)-

Scott's skin bubbling and shifting constantly since he hasn't learned to control it yet. Grabbing at his own neck, almost strangling himself as he tries to press the gills shut. He can't think clearly, because he's never getting enough oxygen, even if he ever were to see water, he's damaged his gills so severely that he'll never properly breathe again, like so many people take for granted.

Not many people know this, but Jimmy is covered in bruises. When invisible, he trips over himself, bumps into things, as well as other people bumping into him. He's got a handful of bruises here and there because of that, but that's not why every inch of his arms and legs are black and blue. The panic he felt the first time he turned never really went away. Sometimes he'll wake up invisible, and for moments will forget about his ability. Sometimes, when he's in a really bad state, he'll hurt himself. He'll grab his arms tightly for hours on end, just reassure that they are actually there. His friends just assume that the bad people are rougher with Jimmy because he's usually more "rambunctious".

Imagine Martyn being put in isolation, with sound proof barriers when he gets his ability because the facility doesn't want him hearing things he shouldn't. He goes mad in. There are chips in his ears from him clawing at them. He's missing tufts of his hair. He used to scream so much when he first got his power, to the point where now his voice is permanently broken and wheezy. He used to hope that if he was loud enough, desperate enough, his cries could overpower All. That. Noise.

Imagine Ren subconsciously shifting to have certain features from Martyn, creeping out all their other friends, but they never tell him that. They know that he's been broken ever since they took Martyn away from him. As the months go on, Ren starts to forget his own features- but it doesn't matter. All he has to do is remember Martyn. His hair, his eyes, his smile. Ren doesn't have a smile of his own anymore, because the last time he smiled was at Martyn. He smiled back.

Scar finding out his power, and jokingly shadow boxing, saying how he's gonna take down any guard who messes with him or his friends- Then someone comes up behind him, and mid-punch he turns around, his fist making contact with Mumbo's shoulder. Scar freezes, but it's too late. Mumbo flies meters away, thrown to the ground. His arm is barely even connected to his body, there's blood pouring out of his mouth. Scar rushes to his friend's side, and goes pale at the sight of the man's flattened ribcage.

Later on, Cleo shoving the mindless corpses of Skizz and Mumbo around, acting like she could bully them into being normal again. Through the hallways, you can sometimes hear her crying- "Look at me- look at me Skizz!" "NO, No, no, no- Mumbo, I can fix you- I promise, just please lift up your head" "you're gonna be okay- you can still be with us, you don't have to go..."

The first time BigB summons a creaking, he's being escorted by a guard through a hall. He hears the footsteps coming up to them, and meets the creature’s eyes. The guard opens fire, only causing bullets to ricochet off its bark, while BigB stands there, never pulling his eyes from the creaking monster. He blinks for a millisecond, turning to run, and that's when he heard the guard's final breath. BigB watched as the branch through the man's chest lowered him to the ground. The creaking just kept looking at BigB, and it took him ages too long to realize that it would hurt everyone around but him.

Imagine Gem looking over her shoulder, and seeing Mumbo and Skizz for the first time in... too long. Shutting her eyes and contuining to walk. Calling herself crazy as tears start to form, until she feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks back and sees her own body, crumbled to the ground. When she uses her powers, her eyes seem to disappear, almost like Grian's black, void like eyes. She spends hours of her day crying into Skizz's arms while Mumbo tries his very hardest to give her words of comfort.

Tango's heart is always beating too fast, to the point where it'll start to hurt. The running helps relieve the pain, but it doesn't go away. When trapped in his cell, the camera's frame rate can't keep up with him. The screens in the security camera room just show four orange figures that change every could seconds, all of them with expressions of rage or desperation.

Lizzie attempting to make her escape, but as she runs down the halls, the screams of panicked from her friends disorient her. The guards eventually find her banging on the steel door of Joel's cell, screaming that she's sorry.

Imagine seeing Pearl with raw finger tips, sometimes with her entire palm covered in her own blood, and having no clue as to why until you walk into her cell, and see the claw marks in the concrete ceiling. Engravings from every time she'd had a breakdown and tried so hard to get to the open sky.

Etho always keeping his hands behind his back or in his pockets so the very thought of using his ability never crosses his mind.

Imagine Grian trying out each of his friends powers, and having to go through each and every single one of these torturous moments.

I JUST HAD A REALLY COOL IDEA FOR AN AU BASED ON THE NEW WILD LIFE EPISODE. HEAVY(?) ANGST UP AHEAD AND ALSO SPOILERS TO SESSION 7 SO BE WARNED!

LIFE SERIES MEMBERS BUT THEY GOT THEIR POWERS FROM LAB EXPERIMENTATION!!!!!

Okay I'm switching to lowercase so I'm not just screaming at you guys haha

[EDIT] Guess who’s fully elaborating on this AU with Subject files and a fic? :3

Project X Master Post

===============================

Imagine Martyn curled up in the corner of his cell, covering his ears bc he doesn't know how to block things out and everything is so loud.

Imagine Scott transforming from an aquatic creature back to his regular form, but he still has gills, and he panics when he can't breathe.

Imagine Jimmy turning in invisible for the first time and not knowing how to turn back, and he thinks he's stuck that way forever.

Imagine Ren transforming the first few times, but there's always something off about him. He looks eerie, like something from uncanny valley.

Imagine Scar not knowing his own strength and jokingly punching Mumbo, only to send him flying into the wall and causing his death.

Imagine Cleo trying so hard to get Mumbo and Skizz to act the way that they used to when she summons them, but it's never truly them. Something is always wrong.

Imagine BigB being terrified when he summons the creaking for the first time, not realizing they're on his side and thinking they'll attack him.

Imagine Gem astral projecting as an escapism, talking to Mumbo and Skizz and "leaving" the facility, but she can't truly leave.

Imagine Impulse and Tango nearly getting to escape with their powers, their friends cheering them on from inside their cells, and just when they're in the clear, Impulse gets tranquilized and falls unconscious. Tango can't bare to leave his buddy behind. They both get collars that block their abilities and heavy monitoring after that stunt.

Lizzie feels bad about her power. She's tried to escape as well, but when she realized the blindness affected her friends, it freaked her out so much that security was able to catch up to her and take her back to her cell.

Imagine Bdubs sleeping diligently through every night and dealing with nightmares of the hell they've all been put through so his friends don't.

Imagine Pearl wishing she could fly out in the open air, desperate for that kind of freedom that she knows she will never have.

Imagine Etho trying to bring down his mace to pretend to hit Bdubs, and when he move to the side to dodge, it actually puts him in the way of Etho's strike. The absolute terror that fills Etho is so bad that he never jokes like that again, even if it barely hurt him.

Imagine Joel looking around and analyzing the rooms, thinking of how he could scale the walls with his ability to escape through an air vent, but he can never bring himself to do it because he refuses to leave Lizzie.

Imagine Grian being physically and emotionally strained trying to learn everyone's powers and how to properly use them, wishing he just had one of his own instead.

Imagine Skizz and Mumbo both dying (Skizz due to the intense tests and Mumbo due to the effects the testing had on Scar) before they had a chance to gain powers of their own. Don't imagine those powers being just what the group needs to escape.

===============================

I think I might write each of these as a one shot. That would certainly be a LOT of fun :) lmk what you guys think please!

[ivhmavie]

✭ jealous, jealous, jealous boy ◦ ༆

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), hwang in ho (player 001), kang dae ho (player 388) and hwang jun ho (police).

how squid game mens would be with jealous

Hii! This is my first time posting on tumblr, I want to alert you all that english its not my first language, so, if theres some mistake on my writing Im really sorry! But I accept any and all help and productive criticism if I commit any mistakes. 🫶🏻

park gyeong seok (player 246)

➴ as a busy man, gyeong normaly wouldnt have time to think about any younger boy trying to impress you. With his job and his sick daughter, his mind would always be focused on thinking about the next bill to pay or his debts

➴ but, if he ever saw a guy being to friendly or close, I can just imagine him tensing up and doing that sexy jaw clenching thing. He would try to not care to much, he didnt want to make you feel controlled or suffocated by him

➴ He’s a patient man, wouldnt do anything by impulsive or without thinking, he dont want you to be sad or angry with him

➴ he would silently observe you two while paiting in the park, you would think that he didnt even saw, but he would be constantly checking you to make sure that the guy wouldnt be crossing the limits with you

➴ some insecurities would pass through his head, he would think that may you finally started to notice that you deserved someone with better conditions, someone that could take you to dates in amazing restaurants and travels; or maybe that you should br with someone younger than him

➴ whem he finish his job, he would arrive at your side, nothing but confidence in his face and actions, he would put a hand on your waist and smile asking who is your new friend. He knows what to do to let whoever your talking to uncomfortable

➴ would make sure to call the guy “boy” or “kid” and make it sound innocent and oblivious, as if it weren't for evil, in fact, the guy is practically a child

➴ in the moment that the boy finally get embarrassed enough to leave, gyeong would hold you a little bit near and give you a kiss on the cheek, just making sure to let clear that you were together

➴ if you ask him about it latter he would just smile and say that he was just “making sure that you were ok”, never really saying that he got a little bit jealous

hwang in ho (player 001)

➴ girl, let start with the point that letting this man jealous would be a problem

➴ I dont think that he would kill the one hitting on you, it depends on the situation. If it was just someone trying to flirt with you, he would have his own ways to stop it. He’s the type of man who has power enough to humiliate someone, that’s the way he would make sure that whoever was interested on you get out of his way

➴ in this first situation, he would probably use his status as the owner of the games, and rich man, to make the other feel inferior. It would be subtle, as if he didnt realize that his comments where being cruel.

➴ would talk about the expensive gifts and dates that he pays for you, the travels to the most pricey destinationd and the places you like to go shopping. It all with a hand on your thigh, because of course he would make sure to show who you belong to

➴ it all would be enough to make anyone feel bad with themselves to give up

➴ now, theres other potential situation, the one where he may had to get rid of someone. In this scenario, it would be if the person who is interested in you was really persistent.

➴ it would happen especially if the person stalked you or made you insecure about your safety. That’s the point where he would have to consider murder someone, but not of jealousy, his priority would be your safety

➴ he would give orders to some of his guards to take care of it, just wanting to confirm that they got rid of whoever it was. Probably you wouldnt even know about what they did, in a random day you would realize that the guy that was stalking you before just disappeared

➴ but, whem you asked him about it already knowing the answer, because, look who is you men girl, he would give a forced laugh and say that you shouldn't worry about it

kang dae ho (player 388)

➴ this boy would be SOO dramatic, probably he would make a pout with his mouth without even realizing it. He also look a little bit insecure, so i can imagine he being kinda sad

➴ so, you would have to calm him down about it, you would KNOW whem he’s jealous because he cant hide it, his face tells you

➴ he’s divided. He feels bad and insecure whem he’s jealous, but he don’t want you to be upset with him or look to selfish

➴ you would have to be the one to start the conversation about it, he wouldnt say a word. But you would know by the way he looks at you whem you’re talking with someone who makes him jealous

➴ he feels so unable because he’s afraid of getting in trouble with someone for interrupting a conversation and seeming rude or controlling, he thinks the only way to be worthy of you is to be brave like the other mens who worked with him or the ones in the games

➴ it would be a little bit hard to calm him about it, but after a conversation he would feel better

➴ there’s a situation where he would interrupt you. If he notice that you’re uncomfortable and the guy is crossing the limits with you. He would arrive friendly at you two like "So, what are we talking about?” and placing a protective hand on your shoulder

➴ after that he wouldnt deny that he was jealous, but also wouldnt admit it

hwang jun ho

➴ first of all, this men is really confident and trust you a lot, so i don’t think he would be jealous easily. If it ever happend, it would be with someone insistent, that really cross the friendly limits with you

➴ he wouldnt be angry or anxious with someone trying to flirt with you, maybe he even think that it’s funny to watch. He would be watching while doing something or talking with someone, giggling in your direction whem the person who is talking with you says something stupid

➴ whem the guy notice that you’re not interested, he would come up behind you, putting an arm around your shoulders and giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking friendly “who’s your new friend?”

➴ latter, you two would remember that and laugh of that

➴ now, if someone where pressuring you or making you uncomfortable, he would interrupt the conversation, in a passive-aggressive way, leaving no space for the person to continue talking to you

➴ would let a protective hand on your waist and would lead to talk, making sure to somehow add the information that you are already taken and he is a police officer

➴ really affectionate and protective with you, gets worried whenever he see someone possibly crossing the line with you

➴ wouldnt make a scene, he doesnt want to embarrass you. After he would want to know from where you know the guy from earlier, but only because he worry about you

[enemiestolovershoe]

Subtle's Overrated Part 2

Noah Sebastian x bsf!dierkes!reader

Summary: Y/N and Noah navigate their growing connection during the tour, balancing passion, privacy, and the playful chaos of their close-knit bandmates.

Words: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), oral receiving (f and m), use of y/n, language, teasing, suggestive themes, getting 'caught', lmk if i missed something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

It had been two weeks since you and Noah officially got together, and things had somehow only gotten more intense. The teasing from the band had reached an all-time high, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You and Noah were practically inseparable now, a fact that Matt and Folio had coined as being “superglued together.”

“You two are like one of those old-school cartoons where the characters’ hands get stuck together with glue,” Folio said one afternoon, smirking as he leaned back on the bus couch. “I’m just waiting for the part where you try to pull away and end up with your faces stuck together.”

“Very original, Folio,” Noah said dryly, though he didn’t move from his spot beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders as you leaned into him.

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Folio said, grinning.

Jolly walked in, holding a soda can, and immediately jumped into the conversation. “Calling it ‘superglued’ might actually be an understatement. They’re practically one person at this point.”

“Jealous?” you shot back, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Despite all the teasing, you and Noah had your moments, though not without their share of interruptions. The bus wasn’t exactly known for privacy, a lesson you’d learned the hard way more than once.

Flashback: The Couch Incident

It had been late at night, and most of the band had either passed out or holed up in their bunks. You and Noah had decided to take advantage of the quiet, slipping into the living room section of the bus for some alone time.

You had straddled him, your lips locked in a heated kiss, his hands running up and down your sides. The world outside the bus ceased to exist as his mouth moved against yours, and you’d let your guard down completely.

That is, until the door swung open.

“Yo, anyone up for Mario Kart?” Nicholas Ruffilo’s voice boomed as he barged in, Jolly trailing behind him.

The two of them froze mid-step, their eyes widening as they took in the scene.

“Uh…” Ruffilo started, clearly unsure whether to laugh or apologize.

Jolly, ever the calm one, raised an eyebrow. “Well, this is awkward.”

You scrambled off Noah’s lap, clutching your shirt to your chest in a feeble attempt to preserve some dignity. Noah groaned, his head falling back against the couch.

“Ever heard of knocking?” he muttered.

“We didn’t think we needed to,” Ruffilo said, smirking now. “Apparently, we do.”

Since then, you and Noah had been trying to pick your moments more carefully, though it hadn’t exactly worked out as planned.

Flashback: The Greenroom 

It was the third show of the week, and you’d barely had any alone time with Noah. The greenroom seemed like a safe bet—everyone else was busy getting ready or dealing with soundcheck.

You’d pinned him against the couch, your lips traveling along his jawline as his hands gripped your hips. His low groan sent shivers down your spine, and you were just about to palm him through his jeans when—

“Hey, has anyone seen—oh, come on!”

Matt’s voice rang out, followed immediately by Folio, Nicholas, and Jolly filing into the room. They all stopped short, collectively groaning in mock disgust.

“Seriously?” Matt said, his arms crossed.

“I thought we agreed the greenroom was a neutral zone,” Folio added, though he didn’t seem particularly surprised.

You scrambled off Noah once again, glaring at the group. “Do none of you knock?”

“Not when we don’t think we need to!” Matt retorted, throwing his hands in the air.

“Alright, that’s it,” Noah said, standing and brushing off his jeans. “We’re getting a lock for every door on this tour.”

The interruptions had become something of a running joke, but they’d also solidified one thing in your mind: you weren’t going to let anything happen until you had real privacy—preferably in a hotel, where no one could barge in unannounced.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Noah’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You glanced at him, his expression amused as he sat beside you on the tour bus couch. “Thinking about what?”

“Every time we’ve been interrupted,” he said with a knowing smirk.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “How could I not? It’s like they have some kind of radar.”

“No kidding,” he muttered. “But hey, next week we’re staying in hotels for a few nights.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication, but before you could respond, Matt’s voice rang out from the front of the bus.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s go! Soundcheck time!”

You sighed, shooting Noah an apologetic look. “Duty calls.”

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “We’ll pick this up later.”

With a grin, you followed him off the bus, already anticipating whatever chaos the day would bring.

The Toronto skyline loomed in the distance, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. After days of being cooped up on the tour bus and countless interruptions, the idea of staying in a proper hotel felt like heaven. This stop was a multi-day event, and you’d made it abundantly clear to Matt that this time, privacy was non-negotiable.

“Alright,” Matt said as the bus rolled into the hotel parking lot. “We’ve got the rooms sorted. Two doubles for the guys, and one for me.”

“And one for me and Noah,” you interjected, arms crossed as you stood in front of your brother.

Matt’s eyebrows lifted in faux surprise. “Oh? Why do you need your own room?”

You rolled your eyes, already sensing where this was going. “You know exactly why.”

“Do I?” he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “Just seems like an odd request, that’s all.”

“Matt,” Noah groaned, stepping up beside you, clearly already exasperated. “Man, stop being a cockblock already. It fucking hurts.”

Matt smirked, pulling a room key card from behind his back and holding it just out of your reach. “You mean like this?”

You glared at him, but Noah was quicker, snatching the card from his hand with an annoyed grunt. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Have fun, lovebirds,” Matt called after you both as you headed for the hotel entrance, his grin practically splitting his face.

The memory of his smirk stayed with you as you and Noah made your way to your room, but the moment the door clicked shut behind you, all thoughts of Matt or the band vanished. Noah turned to you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite describe but definitely felt in the air between you.

“We’re finally alone,” he murmured, stepping closer.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though your voice came out a little breathless. “It’s been days. Weeks. It feels like years.”

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. “You’re telling me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could respond, he kissed you, and any coherent thought flew out of your head. His lips were firm and demanding, his hands roaming up your back as yours tangled in his hair. The tension that had been building between you two for days finally found its outlet, and it was electric.

Flashback: The Bus Incident

A few nights earlier, after a show, the two of you had rushed back to the bus, desperate for some alone time while the rest of the band went out for drinks. The bus was dark, quiet, and it felt like the perfect opportunity.

You’d barely made it to the couch when Noah pressed you against it, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands slid under your shirt. Your breath came out in soft gasps, your body arching into his touch.

And then, the bus door opened.

“I’m too tired for the bar,” Matt said, stepping inside and flipping the light on. He froze when he saw the two of you tangled together, blinking in surprise before bursting out laughing. “Oh, come on! Can’t I leave you two alone for five minutes?”

“Matt!” you groaned, scrambling off Noah.

“Really?” Noah muttered, his head dropping back against the couch in defeat.

Flashback: The Salt Lake City Studio Incident

You’d managed to convince Matt to book a hotel in Salt Lake City, thinking you’d finally have some privacy. What you hadn’t realized was that Matt had booked a studio apartment for the entire band—and himself.

You and Noah had shared a tiny corner of the room, and every time you thought you might sneak a moment alone, someone was always there.

“Who books a studio apartment for six people?” you’d hissed at Matt as you passed him in the kitchen.

He smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Hey, it’s cozy.”

“Cozy?” Noah had said from the couch, his voice filled with irritation. “We can’t even breathe without someone hearing it.”

Those moments felt like a cruel joke now, but here, in this hotel room in Toronto, it was just the two of you. No interruptions, no teasing bandmates, no cockblocking brothers—just you and Noah, finally free to be together.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. “Worth the wait,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with meaning.

You smiled, your hands resting on his chest. “We’ve only just started.”

Noah smiled against your lips before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with hunger and adoration as he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss—this one deeper, more urgent. His hands found your waist, guiding you back until the back of your knees hit the bed. You stumbled slightly, falling back onto the mattress with a soft laugh.

He followed immediately, pinning you beneath him as his weight settled on top of you. The two of you couldn’t help but giggle, the sound breaking through the tension for a moment.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” you teased, your hands coming up to cup his face.

“Dangerous?” he repeated with a smirk, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “Says the girl who’s been driving me insane for weeks.”

You grinned, leaning up just enough to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you,” you murmured softly, your eyes locking onto his.

The smirk softened into something more tender, his lips quirking up into a small smile. “I love you too,” he said, his voice just as quiet, before leaning down to kiss you again.

His lips moved against yours with a slow intensity, the kind that made your whole body hum with anticipation. You felt his hand drift down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he paused.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice low and filled with both need and care.

You nodded quickly, your own hands moving to help him as you pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. Noah’s lips found their way to your neck almost immediately, leaving a trail of soft, warm kisses down to your collarbone.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

His kisses continued downward, his lips grazing over the swell of your breast before he pressed a lingering, wet kiss there. You let out a soft gasp, threading your fingers through his hair as he moved lower, stopping briefly to kiss your belly before his mouth hovered over your shorts.

Noah rested his head there for a moment, looking up at you with a playful smirk. “You know,” he began, his tone teasing, “I’ve thought about this exact moment way more than I probably should’ve.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your hands brushing through his hair. “And how does it compare?” you asked, matching his teasing tone.

“Better,” he said, his smirk growing as his eyes sparkled with mischief. “But it’d be even better if these weren’t in the way.” He tugged gently at the waistband of your shorts. “Can I take them off, baby?”

“Please,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling your shorts down in one smooth motion, leaving your panties in place. His hands brushed along your thighs as he slid back up to you, his lips finding yours once again in a deep, lingering kiss.

“You wear too much,” you murmured against his lips, tugging lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

Noah pulled back with a chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching up into a smirk. “Better get rid of it then, huh?” he said, sitting up just enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest, and you couldn’t help but grin. “Much better,” you said, your voice teasing but full of appreciation.

“Glad you approve, princess,” he replied with a playful wink before leaning back down to kiss you again.

As his hands slid up your back, his fingers found the clasp of your bra. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as if silently asking for permission.

You nodded, your breath catching as he unhooked it with practiced ease. Slowly, you slid the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric fall away to expose yourself to him for the first time.

Noah’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening as he took you in. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his words, but the way he looked at you made you feel anything but shy. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you said with a small smile, your hands brushing along his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again.

Noah’s lips began their journey down your body once more, leaving soft, deliberate kisses that made your skin tingle. When he reached your chest, he paused, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple while his other hand massaged the opposite breast with care. The contrast of his lips and his hands sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and a breathtaking moan escaped your lips.

Hearing your reaction, Noah smirked against your skin, clearly satisfied with the effect he was having on you. His kisses trailed lower, his lips and tongue mapping out every inch of you as he went. When he reached the hem of your panties, he stopped, his warm breath ghosting over the thin fabric.

Without warning, his hand cupped your covered core, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. The teasing look in his eyes as he glanced up at you was enough to make your heart race. Taking the hint, you lifted your hips slightly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and sliding them off.

The moment you were bare, Noah wasted no time. His mouth descended on your core, his tongue working magic as he explored every sensitive spot. Your back arched off the bed as a moan spilled from your lips, your hands gripping the sheets for support.

His tongue moved with purpose, drawing out gasps and whimpers as he worked. After a moment, he slid two fingers inside you, the sensation making you cry out. His movements were precise, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to push you closer to the edge.

It didn’t take long before the tension coiled tightly in your belly snapped, a wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body trembled as you came undone, your cries filling the room as Noah held you steady, guiding you through the high.

When you finally came down, your breath was ragged, your body flushed and buzzing with aftershocks. Noah pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, looking up at you with a proud, mischievous smile.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of admiration.

You pulled Noah up by the shoulders, your lips capturing his in a heated kiss. The moment your tongue slid against his, he froze for a brief second, clearly caught off guard. Most of his past partners had refused this kind of intimacy, but you didn’t hesitate. Instead, you deepened the kiss, your taste still lingering on his lips.

“Damn,” Noah murmured when you pulled back slightly, his voice low and almost disbelieving. “You’re full of surprises, princess.”

You smirked, brushing your nose against his. “You like that?”

“Like it?” he said with a breathless chuckle. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

Your lips met again, tongues tangling in a battle for dominance. In the heat of the kiss, your hands moved with purpose, sliding down his chest and expertly undoing the button of his shorts. Noah groaned into your mouth as your hand slipped beneath the waistband, brushing against him.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head tilting back slightly. Not wanting to waste time, he kicked off his shorts and boxers in one smooth motion, leaving him completely bare in front of you.

Now both naked, you kneeled together on the bed, your hands exploring his tattooed chest. “You’re unreal, you know that?” you said softly, your fingers tracing the ink along his torso.

“Me?” Noah laughed breathlessly, his hands gliding over your hips. “Look at you.”

Instead of replying, you leaned in to kiss him again, trailing your lips down his chest. Your kisses became slower, more deliberate as you moved lower, worshiping every inch of him. When you reached his length, you paused, glancing up at him with a questioning look.

His breathing hitched, and he nodded quickly. “Go ahead, baby,” he said, his voice strained.

You wrapped your hand around him first, stroking him slowly before taking him into your mouth. The reaction was immediate—Noah’s head fell back, and a low, guttural groan escaped his lips.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, his hand tangling in your hair.

You worked him with confidence, your tongue and lips driving him closer and closer to the edge. His breathing grew heavier, his hips starting to move slightly in time with your motions.

“Fuck, princess,” he groaned, his voice shaking. “I’m so close.”

You hummed around him in response, which only made him gasp louder. But then his grip on your hair tightened slightly, pulling you back gently.

“No, you need to stop,” he said, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I want to cum inside you.”

Reluctantly, you released him, a long string of saliva still connecting you as you sat back. The sight made Noah groan again, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you into another searing kiss.

As his lips moved against yours, he guided you down onto the mattress. His hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your slick heat. You gasped at the contact, your hips arching instinctively toward him.

“You’re so ready for me,” he whispered, his voice full of awe as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, his gaze meeting yours. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” you replied softly, your hands cupping his face. “I love you, Noah.”

His expression softened for a moment before he leaned down to kiss you deeply. “I love you too, princess,” he said against your lips, and with that, he pushed into you slowly.

The stretch was overwhelming at first, but the way he held you—his forehead pressed to yours, his hands cradling your hips—made it feel perfect.

The room filled with a symphony of groans and moans as he moved, your bodies finding a rhythm together. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, pulling you closer to the edge once again.

“You feel so good,” Noah rasped, his voice strained as he buried his face in your neck.

“So do you,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

It didn’t take long for the pleasure to build to an unbearable peak. Your body tensed as you cried out his name, your release washing over you in waves. Noah wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering as he groaned loudly, spilling into you.

Both of you lay there for a moment, panting heavily as you came down from the high. Noah stayed above you, his forehead pressed to yours as he caught his breath.

“Damn,” he finally said with a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “That was... everything.”

You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his back. “Worth the wait?”

“More than worth it,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Don’t move, princess,” Noah said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he stood and disappeared into the bathroom.

You lay there, your body still tingling, as you watched him return moments later with a warm, damp towel. Gently, he cleaned you up, his touch tender and caring. When he finished, he tossed the towel toward the bathroom door without a second thought and crawled back into bed beside you.

He pulled the blankets over both of you and immediately wrapped you in his arms, your head resting against his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles on your shoulder, and you felt completely at ease.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” you murmured after a moment.

“Like what?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Safe. Loved. Like everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be,” you admitted, your fingers toying with one of the tattoos on his chest.

Noah’s hand stilled for a moment before he tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. “That’s because it is,” he said simply.“You’re everything, Y/N. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but now that I do? I’m not letting go.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “You’re stuck with me, Noah Sebastian. Better get used to it.”

“Already am,” he teased, grinning against your lips.

The two of you talked for a while longer, sharing stories from the past and dreams for the future. The conversation eventually slowed, and you reached for your phone while Noah grabbed his from the nightstand.

The moment you unlocked your screen, you froze, your heart sinking. There was a message from Matt, and as you opened it, your jaw dropped.

Matt: Okay, if I had known you’d get that fucking loud, I wouldn’t have taken the room next to yours. I never want to hear those noises from my sister again. #traumatized

Your face burned with embarrassment as you stared at the text. “Oh my god,” you whispered.

At the same time, Noah let out a low groan, his phone lighting up with a message. He glanced at it, and then his head fell back against the headboard with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Folio,” he muttered, turning the screen toward you.

Folio: Dude, WTF. Are you murdering her?!

You and Noah locked eyes, both of you holding up your phones to show each other the messages.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, burying your face in your hands. “I can never leave this room again. Never.”

Noah laughed, pulling your hands away from your face. “Come on, princess, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?!” you squeaked. “My brother heard us, Noah! He’s scarred for life! And Folio? Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Fuck them, princess. Now everyone knows you’re mine.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, running his fingers through your hair. “But seriously, let them tease. They’ll get over it eventually.”

You sighed dramatically, but his calm reassurance did help ease the embarrassment a little. “Fine. But if Matt brings this up, I’m denying everything.”

“Good luck with that,” Noah said with a laugh, pulling you closer. “Matt doesn’t let anything go.”

You groaned again, but Noah’s arms around you made you feel a little more confident. Maybe, just maybe, you’d survive the teasing. Eventually.

Taglist: @courta13

[dream-of-the-bitchless]

I imagine at some point Silco might've been despondent when it came to the cause of Zaun. And on a night like that, Vander would've tried to cheer him up.

They would be in Vander's small room above the Drop, Silco spiralling a little; why are some people not responding to their call to action as expected? Why do some even berate them for trying to change anything at all? Are they even on the right track?

"What do you want to do when all of this is over?" Vander would ask, the question catching Silco off guard because what is there "afterwards"? This is what gives him purpose. What else could he possibly yearn for beyond the liberation of their people? But Vander would just smile and reveal, "I want to get a cat. I've always wanted one, but we're so busy that I couldn't take good care of it right now, so I would get one then."

A cat? Silco would probably find it a tad absurd. Nothing's really stopping Vander from getting a cat; the creature would surely survive their absences no problem.

"But first I would spend a whole day in bed. Waking up just to sleep again right after," Vander would add, and Silco, confronted with his own bone-deep exhaustion, has to admit that he would very much like that, too.

"I—I would eat sweet pastries. Every kind available in that nice bakery we've passed near the bridge," he'd concede, to Vander's delight. Encouraged, Silco would admit to a much deeper dream. "I would study. Proper study, that is, at a university. With big lecture halls and like-minded people to discuss with."

"Still would be the smartest guy in the building," Vander would say, and it's the kind of compliment that Silco doesn't have a hard time accepting.

"I would have time to write, maybe do it for a living, although that's highly unrealistic." You see, one must know their limits, even when dreaming.

Vander would stay quiet for a while, drinking it all in. "I'd like some kids," he'd finally declare. It wouldn't fully take Silco by surprise, but his next words would. "Not too many. Just two or three."

"What?? That's plenty!"

His reaction would make Vander laugh for sure. "Oh, come on. Think about everything we could teach them!"

"We?" Silco would wonder out loud, brow arched, and would be met with a cocky smile.

"Yeah. With your brains and my strength, we've got all fronts covered."

"That's a tall order," Silco would point out, his own mouth stretching involuntarily into a smile because kids are the furthest thing from his mind, and it's a crazy idea, perhaps even crazier than making a living out of writing.

"I think you'd make a great father," Vander would say in a low voice, and there'd be raw honesty in that statement, the same unconditional trust Silco is met with whenever Vander blindly puts his own life and the future of Zaun in his hands, as if he could do no wrong with either of them. And Silco can almost believe it.

[thomaslittlegirl]

hello love! i hope you are doing very well:) i just read some of your first and they were so cute! unfortunately i have been in the mood for SOME ANGST lol! would you potentially be able to write a fic where something happened to reader and she got hurt (level of severity is up to you) and like tommy is obviously freaking out over it. idk what's wrong with me but i love angst 😔 if you don't feel comfortable i totally understand and have a wonderful day:)

thank you for your sweet words! 🩷 i wrote this in half an hour, so i hope it's at least not that horrible? hope you like it.

sickness. thomas shelby

warnings; angst. thomas blames himself, as always.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

thomas can't help but feel suffocated seeing you like this. it seems that the walls begin to close and collapse on top of him, preventing him from breathing.

your figure lies on the bed, wrapped in the neat white sheets while your body does not stop shaking violently.

it hurts him to see you this way. hurts because there is no one to blame for your discomfort, no one to blame for your suffering. all he can do is watch yourself in silence and wait for this to pass quickly.

thomas looks at you pitifully as he swallows hard.

the sound of the maid's heels echoing across the wooden floor makes him put on guard. the woman comes almost stumbling, with a tray in her arms. "here it is, sir." she says, in a low voice.

she goes into the room y/n and thomas both share and leaves the plates on the desk.

"thank you, frances." he replies. "i want you to be attentive to any call that me or my girl makes." maid nods and leaves the room, closing the door after her. the annoying sound of heels moving away.

thomas walks over to the bed, squatting down next to you. "doll..." he calls, stroking your hair.

a whimper escapes your mouth and thomas licks his lips, watching you intently; you are pale, your lips cracked.

"what?" you ask in a whisper.

"frances brought you soup." he informs, continuing the caresses on your head. "i want you to eat some."

"im not hungry."

"just a little. try it... it'll warm you up a little." he tries to persuade in vain. you shake your head; thomas stare at the dark circles in your eyes.

shelby look at how your body shakes. it doesn't matter how many sheets you have around you, the spasms don't stop.

his head is a torment, thousands of good-for-nothing thoughts flooding his brain. he collects all the bad omens he knows, like black cats and broken mirrors... everything that could have happened for you to reach this moment.

thomas can't help but think and blame himself. it is not the first time this has happened, it is not the first time that his bad luck and his destiny bring him to this point.

he can't lose you, not you. not again... not when he is thorough when giving you gifts, not when he makes sure to protect you with his life.

why does everything he loves come to this point? does everything he touches have to slowly fade away?

he doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your thin fingers wipe the corners of his eyes, brushing the tears away from his face.

"i'll get better." you try to calm him down, he's not so sure.

he knows the multiple opinions of all the doctors he brought to check you, all of them giving a different diagnosis but none of them making you feel better... everything you can possibly have.

"you promise...?" he asks, looking at your tired face.

"i..." nothing. "just hold me, please." you ask in return, running back a little to make room for him on the bed next to you.

thomas crawls under the sheets with you and wraps you in his arms, holding you close to his chest.

as if love could save.

[teamfreewilllover]

Masked Affection ll In-ho/Frontman x OC

Min-Ji stared into the camera in front of her, her head tilted to one side as the command to smile flashed up on the screen. Her expression remained emotionless as her picture was taken. A sharp laugh from behind her had Min-ji pushing on, amazed that anyone could find the situation they found themselves in amusing. She supposed they didn't know that people rarely left the games. Staggering forward toward the steps, she pushed down the urge to groan when she saw how slowly the woman in front of her was walking. Of all the times to get stuck behind someone who—

Was pregnant?

From the way the girl was clutching at her stomach and practically waddling up the staircase, Min-Ji had no doubt that she was knocked up. Gritting her teeth, she tapped on the girl's shoulder, who jumped out of her skin. She whipped around, with a sheepish expression, gulping when she saw Min-Ji looming over her.

"You and your baby are slowing us down," Min-Jin stated, watching the girl's eyes double in size.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," The shorter girl, with the tag of 222, mumbled.

"Uh-huh. What, are you just holding in a fart then?" Min-Ji teased, as 222's cheeks reddened.

Finding now, her lips did twitch into a slight smile, she held her hand out to the shorter girl. She blinked at her a couple times, as Min-Ji gestured for her to take the offered limb. An irritated cough from behind them had Min-Ji taking 222's hand and pulling her up the stairs before the other girl could protest.

"Ah, I'm not an invalid," 222 complained, as Min-Ji looped their arms together, allowing her to take the majority of the others weight.

"No. Just a pregnant invalid," She smirked, noticing 222 gave a tiny smile.

Soon enough, they made it threw large green gates, arriving on a sandy pitch. There was an odd statue on the other side, dressed up like a little girl, that towered over the guards dressed in pink. Min-Ji was biding her time, waiting for the moment to get one of the guards alone and finally get some answers. 222 shrugged her arm away as they crowded into the pitch, finding the blue sky above them, a flock of birds flying past.

"The first game is Red Light, Green Light."

Min-Ji's frowned deepened, wondering what the twist was. If these games got people killed, then how? There were only two guards standing by the doll, surely they couldn't do much? Glancing toward 222, she took an almost protective stance in front of her.

"You should stick with me, 222," Min-Ji suggested.

"Why?" 222 questioned, as Min-Ji held her hand out to her again.

"Because no one else is going to look out for you here," Min-Ji pointed out, and this time, 222 took her hand far quicker.

Before the girls could say another word, a panicked man was racing forward, his hair cut poorly and eyes wide. He held his hands up, breathing heavily.

"Everyone! Everyone, listen up! Pay attention! This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you die!" The man, who's tag was 456, called out.

The others around them scoffed and laughed but Min-Ji's focused remained on 456. She could tell from the haunted look in his eyes the man truly believed what he was saying. Holding on tightly to 222's hand, she tugged her forward.

"If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere! That doll's eyes are motion detectors!" 456 exclaimed, as Min-Ji's gaze moved to the doll in question, feeling a shiver go down her spine.

"He's just crazy. Right?" 222 whispered, as Min-Ji squeezed her hand.

"Stay behind me," Min-Ji retorted, noticing a countdown flashing up on the side of the arena.

5:00

Immediately realising that meant they only had 5 minutes to make it passed the doll, Min-Ji was rushing forward, with 222 close behind. She had already raced past 456 when the doll announced Red Light and her footsteps came to a sudden halt. 222 gripped her hand tightly, crouched behind Min-Ji, who's free hand was held out to shield her from the motion detector.

On the other side of the arena, In-ho's hand stilled against his drink, eyes narrowed. Player 002 was the first to move, carrying another player behind her. In-ho leaned closer to the screen in front of him, displaying every second of action. The girl seemed familiar to him. Pressing a button beside him, the screen zoomed in on the younger girl's face, as his gaze grew intense.

Now, he remembered.

"Let's go!" 456 shouted, as they all made a desperate race to the finish line.

Min-Ji and 222 made it just in time, as the doll spun around, and more gunshots rang out. They both fell to their knees, exhausted and terrified by what they had just witnessed. Gasps echoed around the group, as Min-Ji twisted around to see 456 racing out to help the man she had staggered past.

"This idiot is going to get himself killed," She mumbled, her eyes widening as another playing sprinted forward to help.

Together, they managed to bring the injured man over the line with quite literally one second to spare. They smiled at each other, as the man thanked them. Suddenly, there was blood spraying onto the sand, as the injured man collapsed, a bullet having whizzed through his skull. Tense silence followed. 456 looked devastated, unable to look away from the dead man by his feet. The pink guards began to usher them back to their bunks then, but 456 made no move to follow. A guard nudged him with their gun, but still 456 didn't even blink. Min-Ji's legs were moving before her mind had caught up, storming over to 456. Grabbing his arm, she managed to haul him onto his feet, finding little resistance.

"He's dead. You want to be too?" Min-Ji insisted, as the man blinked a few times, before nodding.

Everyone was too scared to talk as they wandered back to their beds, crowding around the back of the large room. Screams rang out as soon as the guards entered, as Min-Ji's attention moved to 456, who seemed devoid of fear.

"Clause three of the consent form. The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?" 456 announced, taking a step forward.

"That is correct. Of course. We respect your right to freedom of choice," One of the pink guards replied, as a collective sigh rang out across the room. But the guard wasn't finished speaking. "But first, let me announce the prize amount that's been accumulated."

The room was then cast in a golden glow, as the players looked up to find stacks of money being deposited into the see-through glass above them. Everyone stepped forward, their eyes wide with awe and wonder. Everyone but Min-Ji and 456. Their eyes found each other across the room, both wondering what the others reasoning was for not being so easily manipulated. Questions were called out, asking for how much money they could leave with at that very moment, or if they made it to the end. Greed oozed off most of the players.

A small column was brought in shortly after, with two buttons on top of it. 222 stayed closed to Min-Ji's side, having taking heed of her earlier words. Min-Ji had no plans to explain to the other player why she had taken such an immediate interest in her.

"Now, let's begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers. Player 456!" The guard exclaimed, as the man in question, began to march forward.

Min-Ji was a little surprised when he voted to leave. He seemed to know the games well. Perhaps he was too scared to continue? The vote carried on for some time, and eventually 222 was called upon. Min-Ji gave her the best reassuring smile she could muster as she waddled forward.

"Wait a minute!" The voice of 456 cried out, stepping in between the two groups that had formed. His eyes were manic, as 222 came to a stop. "You can't do this. Come to your senses! Don't you see? These aren't just any games. We will all die if we keep playing! We have to get out of here now. With a majority vote, we can! We must stop here!" He pleaded with them.

Angry players started to argue with him, as Min-Ji took a step forward, ready to scold them for shouting at the man who had saved all of their lives, but she stopped herself. She already knew which button she would press and it wasn't what 456 would want. He didn't know the real reason she had entered the games.

"I have played these games before! I have done this before! I played the games here three years ago! And everyone who was with me...died here!" 456 warned, as Min-Ji's jaw clenched.

It made sense, and his panic seemed real enough to believe. But that meant...some people really did make it out of the games? Her mind instantly went to her older sister, as it often did. She had played the game ten years ago. But unlike 456, she had never had the chance to go home. Looking down at her cheap shoes, Min-Ji blinked away the tears that had begun to well in her eyes, knowing better than to show weakness.

"If someone like you can win, so can I! If you really won, it actually works better for us. You can give us some tips on how to beat these games," A player with bright purple hair called out, arrogance in his steps.

"That's right! We have a previous winner with us, so what do we have to worry about? Come on, let's do this!" Player 100, an older man, insisted, as cheers rung out.

Min-Ji couldn't help but scoff. She was amazed at how quick the players were turning one side to the other. She was conflicted when 222 started walking again, and voted to leave the games. It was the right thing for her...but Min-Ji couldn't go. Not yet. The lines dwindled down until there was only a few of them left.

Player 004 marched forward, as the crowd cheered him on. Min-Ji flinched when she felt a hand suddenly touch her shoulder, causing her to whip round. The warm hand remained touching her for a few seconds, before they pulled away, standing far closer to her than she had been expecting. She hadn't even realised he was there. Her eyes flickered down to the tag on his chest.

001.

She regarded him closely for a few moments, finding he was at least a couple decades older than her, his eyes curious and black hair messy. His gaze turned intense as soon as their eyes met.

"Excuse me," He began, his voice deep, and unfamiliar to her. His gaze flickered over her for a second, before he forced his eyes back to hers. "I'm not decided on which way to vote. Do you plan to stay?" He inquired, curiously.

"Yes," Min-Ji replied, as he nodded slowly.

"Do you need money so badly?" He continued, his eyes seeming almost amused to her.

"I'm not doing this for the money," She told him, as they heard another cheer.

She turned to find Player 004 had cast his vote. The majority had voted to leave. By only one vote. With a sigh, Min-Ji stepped forward, keeping her gaze low as the crowds called out for her, begging her to choose their team. As soon as she reached to column, she pressed the O, without a second of hesitation. Turning on her heel, she headed toward the staying group, who reached out for her. She found 222 in the opposite crowd, who was staring back at her with wide eyes. Her attention quickly turned to Player 001 who had been close on her heels, already standing at the podium. After a few seconds, he too chose the O button and sealed their fate.

People started patting her on the back, cheering even louder than before. Player 001 turned around, his gaze landing on the group who decided to leave. She noticed how his lips twitched into a slight smirk for just a second and then realised who exactly he was looking at.

Player 456.

The groups started to disband, some players far happier than others. 222 had disappeared from sight, as Min-Ji felt a slither of guilt, knowing she may have doomed the young mother. But she had to put her family first. The truth about what happened to her sister was more—

"Thank you for your help," Player 001 announced, suddenly standing in front of her.

Min-Ji cocked her head to one side, eyes narrowed as she watched him silently. If he was uncomfortable under her gaze, he certainly didn't show it. Min-Ji looked down to his tag again, a realisation hitting her.

"Our beds are put in number order. I don't remember you being there when I woke up," She pointed out, as his face remained impassive.

"Ah, I suppose I wasn't that memorable," He replied, as slight smile grew on her lips.

"I think I'd remember," She insisted, taking a step closer to him, watching as his eyes narrowed.

"Out of 455 people?" He retorted, as she gave a shrug.

"I'm a people person," She huffed, as his eyes lit up in amusement.

"Young-Il," He exclaimed, suddenly holding his hand out to her, covering the short distance between them. She didn't move, every instinct warning her there was something wrong with the man. "Come. I don't bite," He went on, as she raised an eyebrow.

"Min-Ji," She mumbled, reluctantly reaching out to shake his hand.

His hand clasped tightly around hers, his skin warm against her own. Her eyes darted from their joined hands back up to his cold eyes. It almost seemed like he was challenging her, but she wasn't sure what game they were playing.

"I'm glad to have met you, Min-Ji," He nodded, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand, far more gently than Min-Ji had been anticipating.

She was quick to pull away, not missing the way Young-Il's lips formed into a smirk. For someone playing in a game of life or death, he seemed far too pleased. Min-Ji wasn't sure if she was happy about his sudden interest in her.

"Excuse me," She murmured, nodding to him for a moment, before backing up, planning to search for 222.

She could feel his eyes watching her the entire time.

[4th-make-quail]

further answers to questions 16-27 below~ 💀💚🏹

16. What do they find most physically attractive about the other? Emmrich loves how big and soft and solid Caul is, and he has a huge soft spot for his nose and beard! Also his clever tinkerer's hands, especially when ink-stained :3 For Caul's side, he could watch Emmrich gesture with his hands all day, he fucking loves them and how elegant they are! He also loves the little creases next to his eyes, his eyes themselves, and especially his arse. Less poetic, that one, but very very true lol.

17. What do they find the most attractive about each other's personalities? Emmrich loves how Caul is honest, blunt and no-nonsense. His clarity of sight and how sharp he is; he finds it extremely refreshing. He's also incredibly soft for Caul's poetic soul, how he can find beauty in the smallest thing. Caul loves Emmrich's eloquence, his endless curiosity and thirst for knowledge, and how unbelievably kind he is.

18. What are some things that remind them of each other? Any time Emmrich smells gaatlok, he thinks of Caul. Any time he catches sight of the pure, fresh morning blue sky he thinks of Caul's eye; the deepest darkness of the Necropolis reminds him of Caul's void-eye. Gold reminds Caul of Emmrich, which is a bit of an obvious one! Also the scent of moss and skin-warmed leather; ink and the smell of books.

19. Does either of them have any form of non-verbal communication that the other is aware of? Oh yes, Caul's ears are extremely emotive and he can't always control their reactions - Emmrich picks up on this very quickly, though he's far too polite to call attention to it of course (also he thinks it's exceptionally cute). Later on, once Emmrich's seen Caul's tail, he also begins to pick up on how that moves with Caul's body language too.

20. What are some ways they behave differently around the other? Caul loses a little of his sharp edge, his aggression softens and he's less on guard - especially after Emmrich's finally seen his leg, seen all of him. It's like night and day to watch him with Emmrich and with others (outside of the Lighthouse crew ofc). Emmrich has a tendency to get distracted looking at Caul, especially if he's working on his guns, reading or writing. He also subconsciously leans towards him, and he can't stop himself from touching Caul's arm to help him up some stairs, or opening doors for him; just little physical touches and gestures all the time.

21. Who is more physically affectionate? In what way do they tend to show that affection? They're both as bad as each other! They often walk arm in arm together, Caul loves to wrap his arm around Emmrich's waist or press his hand to his lower back; Emmrich will hold Caul's hand, and find any excuse to be touching him. And they're both terrible for snatching kisses! Oh, Emmrich and Rook are lagging behind? Don't bother going to find them, they'll be in a doorway somewhere like teenagers. Disgusting.

22. How often do they argue? Who is usually more ready to compromise? Caul is incredibly stubborn and self-sufficient around his disability and when he's in pain, he becomes argumentative and prickly-sharp. In the beginning, Emmrich was likely to be overbearing with trying to look after him, and they had a little argument about it, but after that (and The Argument...) honestly they don't really tend to argue so much. They're kinda on the same wavelength, but for compromise it will often be Emmrich.

23. Who is more likely to become jealous? Do they act on it, or keep it to themselves? Caul, by a long shot unfortunately, and he's likely to make very pointed comments about it, tail lashing and ears like cat helicopter ears. But the Dead-Eye has a hell of a reputation, so honestly it doesn't happen often lol. No one wants to meet their end at an impossible distance in the night.

24. Who is more likely to protect the other when there is danger? Caul again, but only just! He's incredibly protective and will push himself too hard to make sure Emmrich doesn't get hurt. On the flip side, Emmrich always has one eye out for Caul and a restoration spell on the tip of his tongue, and will use his nastiest offensive spells if he sees Caul in danger.

25. Was there ever a moment where one side was weak and the other had to be strong for both? After Caul returned from the Fade, he was bowed by so much grief for Varric and Harding, and surviving that place left him wracked with pain. Emmrich is his rock in that time, knowing how to help him finally come to terms with the unknown grief for Varric, and the fresh, bleeding grief for Harding. He also helps Caul see that he can still continue with their mission, that he's not still stuck in the Fade and that he's real, that their relationship is real.

26. If they were to buy a gift for each other what would that gift be? They're both quite big gift givers as mentioned further up, but Caul buys Emmrich a beautiful, fine golden net of body jewellery to wear as one of his, accented with emeralds. He puts it on Emmrich and then gets to watch as Emmrich rides his cock >:3 Emmrich buys Caul a beautiful blank notebook for his poetry, and an enchanted pen to match, one with ink that flows constantly and never needs filling.

27. What would they consider to be an ideal date? A stately walk among some beautiful nature followed by a delicious meal and then curling up together in front of the fire to read with a very good glass of wine. And then finishing the evening off with a long, slow fuck of course.

Cos I've been doing this over on bsky and I wanna have it archived~

Questions 1-8 answered below!

They met during the first scene where you recruit Emmrich! Because Caul is a Crow, he's never had opportunity to meet him before, and none of his contracts took him to Nevarra

Caul's first impression was "oh the skull thing is cool" and, internally, "thank the gods, someone who's my age" lol. Underneath that he was attracted, and that increased when he saw Emmrich working his magic round the Necropolis during that first quest. Necromancy intrigues him! On Emmrich's side, he was surprised that this imposing, solid and quite dour Qunari needed his help, but delighted to find someone who showed an interest in his work and a respect for the dead, despite his career as a Crow. The good looks helped, and he found himself needing to know more!

Caul realised when he caught himself watching Emmrich one too many times, and then it was cemented when his thoughts turned to poetry around him. Their casual, fun flirtation was just that until Emmrich's kindness just seeped into his soul and didn't let go, and he realised he was Serious. Took him a while, but not as long as Emmrich, who thought that their flirtations were just that - fun between colleagues, nothing more. He realised the terrifying depths of his feelings after one battle where Caul got properly injured then finally relented and let Emmrich use healing magic. During which time, Caul also lets his guard down enough to let him finally see his scars - mostly his leg - which he keeps hidden. Relieved that Caul wasn't going to die and overcome with emotion at the trust he's showing, Emmrich admits to himself that his feelings are real. And scary......

The first move went as the game - Emmrich turned on the charm & kissed Caul within an inch of his life against that beautiful statue of the eternal lovers. It went very smoothly, Caul was already smitten & their tension was insane by that point - if Emmrich hadn't made the move, Caul would have!

Oops I answered this in #4 by mistake fkcmck I'm gonna skip ahead!

They were very handsy and physical before they finally fucked properly! The first sexual contact was Caul giving into his post-battle adrenaline high and sucking Emmrich silly, Emmrich sat on his desk and Caul in his chair just completely going to town and not stopping even after Emmrich came. For full sex it'd been building for a long time, but they never had time or the right moment. Emmrich finally sent everyone else on errands with strict instructions to not bother them, then fucked Caul gentle and slow in his huge comfy bed with scented candles and flower petals everywhere 💚

Their first date was as in game, Emmrich laying on a beautiful meal and wining & dining Caul with the full weight of his charm. Caul brought him flowers & a beautiful Antivan-made knife for ceremonial use & quite flustered Emmrich for a moment, then they kissed for like two hours in the moonlight.

Caul, without a doubt. Emmrich can't bring himself to admit it, let alone speak it out loud - he's afraid of the depth of his feeling, of what feels like an insurmountable gap between them (a Crow & a Watcher, who are they trying to fool?) & he's especially afraid of his mortality. Caul's a romantic type as is Emmrich, but he expresses it through his poetry & he'd given Emmrich enough of it by then to make his feelings clear, but he'd also never really said it outright until The Argument & even then it's only to accuse Emmrich of being scared to admit it. When he returns from the Fade prison, when they're alone in the Necropolis, he tells Emmrich just how much he loves him when they kiss, and continues to tell him while they fuck in the sarcophagus until Emmrich's flushed & whimpering, gazing into Caul's eyes as they make love

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

big fan of the various species of Guards in adventure time. they all look exactly the same and theyll hit u with sticks man, watch out

[worstloki]

there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Secondo and Alpha be nastyyyyyyy (I LOVE their dynamic. This situationship is all I live for these days)

It's such a twisted thing to want, Alpha thinks, arms crossed in front of his chest in a way he's desperate not to qualify as defensive. Him, proud and independent as he is, craving what he knows is to come...fucking ironic. Alpha squares up his shoulders, hands flexing against his own biceps.

It's subtle, but telling. He's fidgety. Alpha's never fidgety. But they say exceptions make the rule, and this one might be it. It's infuriating, really, especially given that Secondo hasn't looked up from his paperwork once, in the twelve minutes Alpha's been there. He counted. The scratch of the pen against paper, the flickering light of the old desk lamp, the familiar scent of old wood and expensive cologne, it would be relaxing, if it weren't for the burning pit of anticipation in Alpha's stomach. As it is, it's just part of the agonizing torture Secondo is putting him through just by making him wait.

In any other situation, Alpha would have no issue standing stock still in complete silence for hours, but this setting, the reason he's here doesn't let him slip into the depth of his mind to cheat boredom. He has to stop himself from bouncing his leg, him. Alpha is definitely going insane.

The second the pen stops dancing across paper, Alpha straightens, internally wincing at the popping sound from somewhere in his back. Secondo finally, finally sets his paperwork aside, taking off his reading glasses with a relieved sigh. Alpha, unfortunately for him, finds his tongue too late to ask him to keep them on. Another time. A click of tongue refocuses his attention on the man behind the desk. Without a word, Secondo snaps his fingers and points down, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

The shame boils up in Alpha's throat, coats his mouth in a bitter taste, but guilty arousal sparks in his guts. His legs take him toward the desk, make him round it up until he's standing between it and Secondo's chair. Maybe if he words it like that, if he blames his knees for bending until he's on them before the second Emeritus brother, Alpha can pretend he doesn't have any choice, that something made him do it, but the truth is that he's totally in controll, muscles, joints and sinews perfectly responding to his lust-addled brain. Yes, Alpha is totally in control of himself, and is willingly handing over that oh so precious control to none other than Secondo Emeritus.

It's worth it, though, for the leather clad hand raking through his hair, thumb drawing circles on one of the shaved sides. Secondo hums, parts his legs a bit more so Alpha can scoot closer. The hand travels further, wraps around a horn, pulls Alpha's head back in one fluid motion. There is strenght in Secondo's grip, despite his human nature, something that almost feels unyielding, even though Alpha knows better. Knows that he could, technically, shake it off, lean away from it. He won't. He wouldn't even dream of it.

The base of his horns must glow especially bright tonight, because Secondo's mouth twitches before he hums.

"Long day ?"

Alpha groans when Secondo's touch shifts again, thumbs now digging into the tense muscles at the back of his neck. And if he arches into it like a giant cat, well. That's his problem, and his only.

"Long week. You ?"

"I'm considering arsenic poisoning. For myself."

The dry answer makes Alpha huff as he leans closer, nuzzling his face in Secondo's thigh, looking up at him through his lashes.

"Want some help unwinding ?"

Though his touch is still gentle, Secondo huffs, mask of disdainful coldness falling on his face in an instant. Alpha takes in a a lungful of air, far too aware of what that means for him. He shouldn't rejoice in the idea. (He does.) The switch has just been flipped, game on.

"And you are offering to provide said help ?"

The mocking tone has Alpha reajusting his position, definitely not squirming. Secondo clicks his tongue.

"Oh, you are. Cute."

It doesn't sound like a compliment, in his mouth. The word is venom-clad, sinking into Alpha's flesh like a shard of glass. He snarls in answer, but when Secondo takes the opportunity to hook a thumb in his mouth, sliding it along his gum, testing the point of thick fangs, Alpha goes against every single one of his instincts, staying still and docile, not even one attempt at biting Secondo's fingers off.

The leather taste of the gloves coats Alpha's tongue when the former Papa pries his jaws open, pushing down on the forked appendice with a hum. The way he looks down at Alpha- with that kind of dissmissive amusement one would direct at a stumbling puppy, still gauche on its too-big paws- anyone with half a braincell would know there is no metaphor less inadequate that this one to describe Alpha, and yet, it is indeed how Secondo treats him.

And the worst part ? Alpha likes it.

Drool pools under the fire ghoul's tongue, some starting to dribble from the corner of his mouth, making Secondo tut.

"So messy. But, luckily for you, I like it sloppy, and I'm willing to give you a chance to prove yourself useful. Aren't you grateful ?"

His brain now too foggy to wonder what in the living hell is wrong with him to want this kind of treatment, Alpha nods, eager for the former Papa's taste, skin burning and insides churning in the best way, the way he chases everytime he steps through Secondo's threshold. There is something weirdly freeing about being unable to do anything but nod, trusting the man holding him put to handle him. Handle him. Like the good guard dog he tries to be. Except right now, he doesn't have to make decisions, to look out for someone else, to be on high alert. He can slump under firm hands and let someone lift the weight of the worlds from his shoulders, at least for a little while, a small reprieve he needs so much more than he's comfortable admitting.

The hands leave Alpha, Secondo finally reaching for his belt, expensive leather making a soft sound against no less precious fabric as it's slipped out of the loops. Try as he might, Alpha can't help the way his ears twitch at that, tail traitorously wagging a few times. Secondo's condescending chuckle is back to taunt Alpha.

"Eager."

Alpha hums, too focused on the rasp of the former Papa's zipper, itching to fish the man's cock out of his boxers himself. Still, he let Secondo do it, until he's salivating at the sight in front of him, pleased to see the former Papa is already well on his way to hardness from just the sight of Alpha on his knees. Licking his lips, the fire ghoul looks up at Secondo, finding mismatched eyes already on him.

"Make it good, and maybe I'll make you cum tonight, mmh ?"

You don't need to tell Alpha twice. It's a powerful thing, want, the way it overrides everything when just at the right intensity, reducing a powerful hellbeast fuelled by infernal flames to a desperate little thing kneeling at the feet of a human man, a prayer in his eyes that for once has nothing to do with his religious beliefs.

Alpha cannot hold back his groan when he gets his mouth on Secondo, lips wrapping around the head with a wet sound. He isn't Dew, he isn't foolish enough to try and fully take him in one go. he has plenty experience, which is precisely why he doesn't do that. While the concept of a completely wrecked voice is sexy, he doesn't need to give Omega even more ammunition when the quint will inevitably corner him with glistening eyes asking him if he had an interesting night. So, Alpha takes his time, eases himself into it, coaxing Secondo to full hardness with careful licks as he gradually takes more and more of him, until the head hits the back of his throat, eliciting a low hum from the former Papa.

That may be what Alpha prefers in all this, the lack of urgency, how Secondo will make sure to call on him at the oddest hours to make sure they won't be interrupted, that they have all the time in the world.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are quiet groans and soft huffs, coupled with the wet noises of Alpha working his mouth around Secondo, letting it get a bit sloppy - for the enjoyment of them both. It doesn't matter that Alpha's hard and dying to get a hand on himself, something Secondo won't let happen, it doesn't matter that his knees ache dully or that his jaw is challenged and will certainly hurt afterward ; all that matters is that the fire ghoul's head is blissfully empty, his skin finally not feeling too tight for him.

There's no urgency, yes, but when Alpha hums low as he steadily bobs his head, Secondo's hand scrambles for a fistful of red strands, forcing the fire ghoul down with a breathy "just like that". Alpha's tail wags briefly, knowing the man's tells enough to understand he's starting to feel his climax approaching. It hasn't been so long, all things considered, which only makes pride fill the fire ghoul's chest. He did that. The thought has him being more thorough, hollowing his cheeks and teasing the head with his forked tongue.

"Fuuuuck," Secondo groans, "you might get something out of tonight after all."

It's close enough to a praise for Alpha to perk up, too relaxed by now to be embarrassed by such a response. It just is so hard to feel anything but contentement like this, Secondo heavy on his tongue, his scent all the fire ghoul can smell, his sounds all he can hear. Eyes half closed, muscles finally loose, Alpha hums again, and swallows, throat constricting around Secondo's cock, which earns him a string of italian curses his brain barely processes.

"C'mon, c'mon," and that breathy tone does catch Alpha's attention, ableit with some delay, "c'mon you mutt, almost there-"

The fire ghoul's eyes shamefully roll back at being called that, moan ripped from him before he can even register it, and it seems to be all Secondo needed to cum down Alpha's throat with a loud groan.

The fire ghoul let him come down from the high at his pace, taking the opportunity to watch Secondo's chest heave, his sweaty throat, the fluttering of his eyelids, the way his face went lax, creases and tense lines smoothed out by bliss. Once Alpha decides he's given enough time to the former Papa to recover, he takes to direct his attention back to himself with a cheeky flick of tongue against the oversensitive tip of his spent cock. Alpha is treated to a delicious hiss as Secondo flinches, gloves creaking as he white knuckles his armrest, glaring without real heat at the fire ghoul knelt between his legs. Alpha finally releases him, smiling unapologetically. Fuck, he's so hard still, and the sight of Secondo looking good enough to eat isn't making it any easier. The former Papa rolls his eyes, almost prompting Alpha to serve him some snark, until a perfectly blacked shoe lands on his crotch, sole grinding against his straining cock, and he forgets anything that doesn't have anything to do with the white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine.

Secondo smirks, eyebrow rising.

"Let's see how long it'll take for you to cream your pants, shall we ?"

[thanatologie]

anyone that says emmrich never actually faces his fear isn't actually paying attention. hear me out, okay, i've talked before (so many times) about how i think for emmrich his fear of death is less actual thanaphobia and more...his fear of being alone. of living alone, of spending eternity alone - especially in a culture and a society that places emphasis on lovers being buried together; he's terrified of it. and a romanced emmrich is so terrified of his relationship with rook - and how he feels - that he's willing to try to end it on the eve of a battle one or both of them might not come back from, because he's worried it might not be the big damn love story he's been aching for his whole goddamn life.

and guess what! rook doesn't come back.

he spends almost a month making that damn dagger - and like the rest of the crew - trying to find rook to pull them out of the fade prison because he's lost them. he's lost them right after realizing his fear's gotten the better of him and he's staring down the barrel of eternity without them. he was already trying to backpedal the whole thing before solas pulled his switcheroo and you know rook telling him they'll talk about it at home was like...a constant refrain in his head that whole almost month they were lost.

(which raises a good point with the mortal vs lich path in this respect, because a mortal emmrich was ready to tear open the fade to get rook back, imagine how many lines a lich emmrich might cross, especially given his line about never letting them be parted in this or any other world again. i have thoughts about how emmrich doesn't come back wrong from that, no, but he definitely comes back changed, he's...off. i've seen speculation that lich emmrich isn't emmrich - which i don't buy - or isn't entirely emmrich - which is a little more interesting and there may be some truth to the latter, or it could be he thinks he's indestructible at that point and gets really reckless and less measured but that is another argument for another time.)

and basically the point i'm leading up to here is...you can complain all you want that he never uses the l word before the final battle, but even with harding pointing out he's gotten a little spacey and distracted and mopey with a relationship on the burner, and all the other pet names he uses so damn liberally (dearest, darling, flame of my heart), he's still holding a lot of stuff back. he's still holding himself back, quite a bit, until that moment when he finally (finally) tells rook he loves them. he never calls rook my love until after the fade prison in the mortal path, and it's just the once, as far as i can actually remember. and it's because of all of that shit above.

(lich emmrich does it earlier, because that this may be my last chance to say it comes a hell of a lot sooner, and he uses my love liberally after that point.)

this is intentional on his part. this man has skirted around using the word love so much ("very fond of you" my ass) that rook totally has the option to call him out on it and it's like a record scratch.

he's, i think, terrified of loving something that can die? and he's terrified of being alone. and ultimately a romanced mortal emmrich has to face both of those things, one after the other, between manfred and the fade prison. and i think, going forward, it's not going to be completely gone - in fact for a hot minute after everything it's probably exacerbated to a large degree and he's probably extra...like that for a while - but it makes him confront those things head on in...very blunt ways. here's a reminder of what losing someone you love deeply to death feels like. here's what losing someone you've given your heart to for safekeeping feels like. it's kind of disingenuous to claim his fears are left untouched, when he's given a one-two knock out punch and is left having to deal with the fallout of that.

eta: and none of this actually touches on the fact that it's him that tells rook to grab the dagger before they go poof, so he's siting with that constant weight on his chest, too, but we'll dig into that at a later time because it's cold and my fingers are starting to get stiff.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[witheredgardenparty]

Every now and then I see the discourse circulate on this hellsite, and I wonder if people know that the term 'yandere' used to have an extremely specific definition that no longer holds up to how people use it today

[wutheringmights]

If spirit and mask get stuck in warriors' hyrule forever, is it forever-forever, or do they get to go home after lu? Both options seem sad, but I'm trying to image them going home after giving up on the possibility and trying to build a new life, and I am making myself sad

I was thinking forever-forever.

That idea started because I was imagining a scenario where the Chain (CTB chain or this AU chain) ended up in this version of Warriors's era and meet Warriors, Spirit, and Mask (specifically, I was imagining them showing up in the middle of one of Spirit's abductions). So it would need to be in the present day, which would mean they would have to stay.

And yeah, it is sad. Mask would take it as a sign that the universe is out to ruin his life, but he would eventually cope with his lot in life. This mean he would be about 15 years old in the present day. Warriors is trying to force him to go to school and at least be literate before running off again. He is also subtly trying to push him into formally becoming a squire in the Knights of Hyrule with Linkle so that someone (Lincoln) can keep an eye on him.

Oh yeah. If they end up staying, they get their house in Castle Town. It's a town house that is in a nice part of town, but not aristocratic. Firmly middle class. I have a lot of ideas about how Warriors can afford this, but I won't go too deep into his finances. Just know that he has a job in the Royal Guard still, has a hefty pension, some money from the Waltons, and some debt to Impa. He wants to transition out of the Royal Guard and into government work, but he's meeting some resistance. He's calmed down a lot, and his ambition is solely motivated by a desire to make his family comfortable.

Spirit, though... Spirit becomes depressed. He always thought he would go home. And to suddenly lose that life line-- he's crushed. But Spirit is Spirit, and he is the only one making trains in this era. So he throws himself into his work and becomes a massive workaholic. With Ganondorf as his secret investor, he's very successful and is actually making bank.

But with Spirit and Mask stuck in this era, Warriors's fear that he would be abandoned vanishes. They'll be here forever. He'll be okay. So he pulls back significantly and starts tending to other things. This would make Spirit super insecure. He only has Warriors and Mask left, and now Warriors is pulling back? Absolutely not.

So Spirit becomes way more clingy/codependent on Warriors as a weird coping mechanism. He needs therapy, but of course, that won't happen any time soon.

[thunderheadfred]

me and Yogurt staring out the window at some BIRD DRAMA tonight