#she would also say. and still does. you want to die?! SO DO THE rest of us get in line.

[mygnolia]

to weave my love ⭒ n. riki [TEASER]

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, comfort ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 6-10k (est.)

⭒ RELEASE DATE -› IT'S HEREEEEEEEE YAYYYY

⭒ REN SAYS... spiderman niki is a need hes so cute i love riki sm 😕🫵 also poll voted for this and tbh i just wanna write downbad riki LOLZ | LIBRARY

“God, I don’t think you can look at her any more down bad than you already do right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he watches you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last night. Let me have this before I die in a week.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair. “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up to her balcony in my suit. Do that cheesy upside kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spiderman thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, his eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” Is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah- whatever confidence he had 37 minutes ago really isn’t serving him well in this moment, because frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it, really- because you don’t really have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to someone I know- someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from overthinking if he keeps wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM ☐ talk to ____ regularly ☐ don't make it awkward ☐ be..cute?

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if you’d like to proofread this, i’d love for someone to join my chaotic half done doc and offer some feedback/advice!

permanent fic taglist (send ask to be added) : @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog

[withahappyrefrain]

mmm i’m thinking “When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?” with our beloved bobby. he’s very serious about face sitting, y’know 😌

He does!!!! Especially older BF! Bob ☺️☺️☺️ slight daddy kink at the end!

"You want me to what?" Surely, he couldn't have said what you thought he said.

Just moments ago, your limbs were tangled with your boyfriend's, hips jerking against one another. Bob's request made you stop in your tracks.

"I think you heard me darlin'," there was a twinkle in his eyes. Dare you say it, it looked almost mischievous. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened.

"Bob, if I sit on you, I'll cr-"

"When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?" The sternness of his deep voice made your thighs clench. Bob extended his arms out, motioning you to grab his hands.

With shaking legs, you began to move up Bob's body.

"No one's ever asked you to do this, have they?" You shook your head and Bob could feel his cock twitch. Why every partner of yours has treated you like shit was beyond him.

But he was delighted that he would be the first (and hopefully last) person to show you this way of pleasure.

"That's it, atta girl," He encourages as your core gets closer to his face.

His obscenely large hands grip your thighs, kneading the soft flesh, "Fuckin' love these thighs."

"Really?" It was a genuine question. You were used to people focusing on your tits and ass.

"'Course I do. So fucking soft but I know they could crush me if you tried," He places soft kisses up your thighs, gentle bites leaving you gasping, gripping the bedframe for some stability.

"Then there's this sweet lil' pussy," long fingers skim your soaked folds, eliciting a whimper. You didn't question him this time; when it came to your cunt, Bob would worship. He made that known early on.

He gets up on his elbows, placing a kiss dangerously close to your clit, "Fuck, she's already so wet for me. You excited sweet girl?"

You nodded, trying to muster up all the available strength you had so as to not collapse from his words, "Y-yes sir."

The title earns a low growl from Bob, your thighs clenching at the sound. He could probably see it but you weren't concerned. Despite being in such a vulnerable position, you felt mostly at ease.

Except for the fact you had no idea what you were doing.

As if Bob could sense it, he placed his hands on your thighs, "Alright, y'gonna lower yourself slowly, okay sweet girl?"

You nodded, following his instructions.

Bob usually was patient, it was one of the many qualities that helped him become an Admiral. But the sight of your soaked core, just dying to be touched, made him lose all sense of the trait.

His mouth eagerly latched onto your cunt, tongue exploring every inch of you. A loud moan vibrated off the walls of his bedroom. Your fingers gripped the wooden bed frame tightly as Bob's tongue lapped up your arousal.

His hands moved to your ass, gripping the ample flesh. Bob would be the first to admit he was addicted to your taste, to you. If Bob could spend the rest of his life pleasing you, he'd die a happy man.

You found your hips rocking back and forth. Immediately, you stilled them. After all, that would be too much, right?

"Don't stop," Bob murmurs, his voice slightly muffled, "I gotcha baby."

The pet name made you weak both in the knees and the heart. How could one man be simultaneously so hot but also so fucking sweet?

Beginning the motions again, one hand moves down to grip Bob's sun kissed locks. He hums in approval, vibrating against your core. His tongue alternated from exploring your entrance to sucking your throbbing clit. As he continued his ministrations, you found yourself unable to keep your voice level down, the room echoing with your moans.

Perks of owning a house, don't have to worry about noise complaints.

Every time his buttoned nose brushed against your clit, it sent you closer and closer to the edge. You tried to slow your hips, but thanks to his grip on your ass, Bob was able to move with you ease.

"Bob-Bobby, I'm close," your voice was desperate, almost pathetic. You hardly recognized it.

And yet, you felt no shame. Gone were the days of being overly self conscious during sex. You had Bob now, who made you feel safe.

Still, it was a shock when he continued his ministrations, rather than lift you off. Your hips now had a mind of their own, rocking against Bob's face in an attempt to chase the high that was just within reach.

When you looked down, the sight below you took your breath away.

Blue eyes half closed in pleasure, hands kneading your soft thighs, sandy brown hair disheveled, some strands having fallen over his forehead. His mouth greedily devouring you.

He looked beautiful. He looked like he was getting just as much pleasure out of this as you, maybe even more.

Your head lolled backwards as white hot pleasure coursed through your body. Your hands gripped his hair, hips rocking erratically.

His name echoed off the walls, his moans mixing with yours.

"Fuck! D-daddy!" The nickname slipped out. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about ever since you and Bob started dating. It was just the concept of bringing it up that you were still figuring out.

A downright feral growl escaped Bob's lips. The next thing you knew, you were lying on your back, Bob's hard cock teasing your soaked entrance.

"Say it," he growled, "Say it again."

"Daddy?" Bob sharply inhaled through his nose, his cock swiftly entering and filling you completely.

"Daddy!"

Bob panted in your ear, his hips driving into yours at a feral pace.

Now that he had you, he was never letting you go.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the Emmrich graveyard scene below for how down bad they are for eachother

dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich path) emmrich x rook cinematic

find my original post here

we begin -

"I would hate to lose you whilst I am still mortal"

this line is directly after Rook questioning all the flirting and what that means for them should he become a lich. which Emmrich responds witht he above. this is a tough one for me to break down as either way Emmrich retains his soul, emotions, and thoughts if he becomes a lich. I believe this line is tied to the fact of being afraid Rook will not want him anymore once he explains his desire to be a lich, as alluded to throughout the rest of the scene.

this one is kind of self explanatory. Emmrich states that nothing will change if he becomes a lich, apart form the no death thing, but would still consider Rook in the decision.

then we are met with a sigh - this is a sigh of desperation. 'how do i choose my words so carefully that Rook see's my desire and doesn't shun me for it' - hence Emmrich goes on to explain what being a lich would mean in hopes rook will still desire him. (this becomes a big factor throughout the rest of the lich romance - desire)

'considerations'

as above, and again now with considering rook. now the first conversation cuts out after this. it is my belief that these considerations are considering Rook and their perspective, whilst also including the fact that it is later revealed that Emmrich might die during the rite, therefore losing Rook whilst still mortal. I believe this line is both a statement of care for Rook, and his fear od death.

throughout the quest, Rook asks Emmrich a bunch of questions, more so just filler content so Rook can understand lichdom and the process.

then Emmrich shows you something that is probably the closest thing to his heart before Rook. his parents graves. keep in mind that Emmrich had these made, and he engraved 'they walk eternity hand in hand'. Then the next shot is Rook and Emmrich walking side by side to the shrine.

walking eternity hand in hand is also mentioned in the lich romance scene,"find you in another world" aka the fade. this man has believed in soulmates for decades.

subtle conversation tactic of, 'what would you want me to be, rook'. here you either say happy with someone who cares about him, or break up with him (i do nOT reccommend).

simple to the point, emmrich is looking for subtle validation here for rooks feelings

and the fact that there is only one correct option is wild too.

If you choose, "Whatever you want", you reply by saying Happy. which very close to the romance committment line of "Happy with someone who cares for you."

Emmrich is looking for that connection so so badly, hence why only one option

Emmrich's gaze towards Rook as he asks them what shes wants, and baring his soul to her.

after committing - Emmrich does not look away from rook once.

rook is fucked. rook is head over heels in love and smitten with this man. keep in mind that throughout the rest of the game, there are conversations with companions where Emmrich will straight up shut them down when pressed about them 'moving too fast' or 'do you know what you are doing'. Emmrich is very clearly defensive about these things, which is so hot.

in my playthrough, they are necromancers, well aware of how short life is, especially facing the apocolypse. ofc they are going all in.

this man is gonna go home and jump up and down on his bed

do i need to explain this? the shrine of passion and devotion, the ETERNAL SHRINE.

anyway im really, really down bad for this dynamic and them. im also in love with my rook so that doesnt help.

ill most likely do a break down of each scene

[astarionancuntnin]

Hyello! I don’t know if you do requests but I thought I’d ask so the request is that x reader is honestly pretty badass and Astarion does something that pisses her off and so she barges into his tent after a long day to tell him off and fight him but decides that amidst the anger there is also hunger and decides theres a a way he can make it up to her and smutty content insues, preferably very like animalistic?? think closer by nine inch nails lol i do like the idea that they're both fighting for dominance in the interaction, you choose which one wins lol hope I’m not bothering you

did i listen to closer on repeat to bring you this? perhaps

and i never really put it out there, but hell yeah im taking requests! thank you for being my first <3

(also thank you for your patience i was heavily focused on my last chapters for die for you before approaching this ask and then it really went overboard LMAO you said "animalistic" and i took it literally, i hope you enjoy!)

Run, Little Fox

pairing: astarion x reader!ranger!tav

rating: E

word count: 5.1k

cw: 18+. smut, biblicaly accurate Astarion primal!astarion, predator/prey, knife play (if you squint), rivals/hate sex, mildly dubious consent, fighting for dominance, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, very slight somnophilia (but id rather mention it, never too safe)

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

That’s it. 

That was once too many.

This brat of a rogue had gotten on your nerves more times than you could recall, and today you decided you had enough. Your group trusted and respected your position as their leader, a brave and cunning ranger whose decisions everyone agreed with — as they were for the greater good — so why couldn’t he do the same? It wasn’t enough that he questioned your every move in front of everyone else, no, he grew bored of you ignoring his remarks. He just had to act on his impulses and get you in trouble this time. 

You had intended on getting information out of a group of adventurers, when he had tried to pickpocket them in the middle of your discussion, and when he got caught, things obviously went south. You tried to talk things down, but they wouldn’t hear it. One thing led to another and next thing you know, they laid in a pool of their own blood and you stood with no more information than you started with. All of it, because of him, and he had the gall to say it was your own fault for not defusing the situation better. Really?!

The stress of this adventure — the impending doom that those tadpoles in your brains were — was already enough weight on your shoulders, you didn’t want to deal with Astarion’s trickery on top of it anymore. No — you couldn’t. You had enough of his unnerving attitude; enough of his shameless flirting when it was clear you weren’t interested; enough of his impetuous disdain and insolence that matched your own. Tonight, you would set the record right.

Once back at camp after this horrendous, unending day by his side, the first thing you do after dropping your loot and equipment at your tent, is bolt straight for Astarion’s. 

Still covered in a mix of your sweat, today’s unfortunate souls’ blood — and your own — you burst through the entrance of Astarion’s tent without so much as a warning to find him peacefully laying, with one arm behind his head and the other already flipping through the pages of a book he had found, and most certainly stolen, during today’s stroll.

He barely lifts his head to notice your intrusion, his eyes darting your way, half-lidded. “Looking for a cuddle?” 

The sheer audacity of the smirk he gives you. 

“You—” You fully step into his tent, staring him down with an anger that couldn’t be contained, as you close the flaps behind you, “Have been a pain in my ass for long enough.”

He scoffs, “Darling, we haven’t been close like that yet — unless this is your way of asking?” He closes his book and puts it aside to focus on you, as he rests on his elbows, his taunting smile never leaving his lips. What you wouldn't give to wipe it away from his smug face.

“The last thing I want is you anywhere near me.”

“You see,” he checks his nails, bored. “I have a hard time believing that, dear.”

“Get over yourself.” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed at how well he could annoy you. “What makes you think I want anything to do with you after the commotion you caused today?”

“For one, you came to me, in my tent. If that's not a dead giveaway, I don't know what is,” his eyes dart back to you. “And to further prove that point, you still haven’t left — even though you claim I am the reason for your frustration. Really, it's as if you relished my company after all.”

You open your mouth to contradict him, but your words are left hanging when he gets up, his shirt slightly unbuttoned revealing the lines of his muscles concealed underneath and you can’t help but let your eyes wander longer than you intended, gulping as you do so. He chuckles lightly before he speaks up again.

“Secondly, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face again, and you ask defensively, “Would you rather have me not look at you?”

He gives you a mischievous look as he eyes you up and down, and he meets your gaze with just as much intensity.

“Third, and lastly, I can smell you, darling.”

“I haven't washed yet.”

“You know that isn't what I'm referring to.”

Your heartbeat quickens, as the air seems to draw out of the tent, “Well, whatever you think this is, isn't your doing,” you lie plainly in the hopes he buys it, but his smirk leads you to believe he sees right through it.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself, dearest.” He tilts his head, a long silence settling in between the two of you, with your breathing as the only sound audible in the space of his tent. “Maybe… There's another reason you might be frustrated. That all this, pent up anger building inside, is because of something else that you can’t control.” He closes the distance between the two of you, stopping but a whisper away from your face, and his voice gets lower, deeper. “Something that you would rather not have to deal with, but for some reason just can’t get rid of. Something that just rubs you the wrong way, and is the same reason why you can’t help but want to stay in my presence.” 

You scoff, challenging his gaze, “If that something you’re referring to is you, Astarion, then you’re right — you are the sole reason of my frustration as of late, but I could do without your irritating presence.”

“Oh, but I could make it much more pleasurable.” 

You lean back, and turn your head aside, trying to make some distance between the two of you, ”You give yourself too much credit.”

He slides a finger down your throat, leaving an unexpected shiver in its wake as he exposes your neck, when he pushes your vagabond strands of hair away, before he continues.

“Why don’t you give me a chance to show you exactly what I mean? We would both benefit from this, really; I could fix your predicament, and in exchange, I could receive… a little something from you in return.”

You contemplated the opportunity laid before you for just a second before opting for the reasonable choice. You grab his hand, pulling it away from you and when you speak up again, the anger in your voice is gone, leaving place for your much smoother, yet very assertive tone. “If you want my blood, you’ll have to earn it.”

You release his hand and he keeps it in the air where you left it, cocking his head to the side as he looks at where your hand had held him, “Earn it, you say?”

You nod, “We wouldn’t want you to become soft now, would we?” A smile of your own takes place on your lips. “If I am to be your meal, it’s only fair that you work for it.”

His eyes dart back to yours as a smirk appears on his lips, “I’m all pointy ears.”

“I’ll be hiding in the woods. If you can find and catch me, you get to drink from me. But if I catch you instead, you’re never getting a drop from me.”

He sighs, “That’s hardly a fair proposition, darling.” As you’re about to contradict him, he continues, “Here’s mine instead: if you catch me, fine — I’ll keep chasing boars and whatnot in the woods — but if I catch you…” He leans over the crook of your neck, whispering. “I get to drink from you every. night.”

You grab him by the chin, bringing him face to face with you, “If I catch you, you don’t get to put the party at risk anymore. You will be kicked out of the camp if you do.” If you had to put your vitality on the line, he had to bet something just as valuable.

His fangs glow in the faint lighting of his tent as he smiles. “Deal.”

You drop his chin as he steps back and you notice how something about him seems to be shifting; the pupils of his eyes widen, darkening; his own breathing stops; the hands at his side turning into claws, with his long and sharp nails peaking out, ready to hunt. There was nothing left of the rogue in distress that you picked up a few weeks ago, who could’ve pretended to be nothing more than an innocent, but rather pale, elf. 

When he opens his mouth to speak again, you spy his elongated fangs; much longer than you remember them to be, and his voice—

“Run.”

You don’t lose a second more; the vision of nightmares before you triggered your fight or flight reaction and without your weapons, the choice was clear. You turn around and slide through the flaps of his tent, bolting straight for your tent, where you quickly manage to pick up your trusty dagger and your set of bow and arrows.

Thankfully, everyone else at camp had gone off to bed, so no one notices you as you pick a frantic run towards the deep woods, making distance from the hungry vampire on your tracks. 

The woods are dark, with only the faint light of the moon guiding your tracks. Once far enough, or so you think, you hide behind a tree to control your breathing; you had no intention to lose to this, you needed all the advantages you could get. With your experience as a ranger, you were almost assured to catch him off guard.

Almost.

What you had seen in his tent before sprinting off was like nothing you had ever seen before. Of course, you knew Astarion was a vampire, but this was… different.

Terrifying. 

A beast, straight out of those scary bedtime stories you recall from your childhood; a monster guided by his thirst for flesh and blood, who would show no mercy, no remorse. It was merely enough to make you question this challenge with him, Gods, how embarrassing would it be to lose your life to a stupid game you had initiated purely out of spite?

The rustling of leaves nearby brings you back into focus, the adrenaline in your veins keeping you on edge for any sound. You ready your bow before you peek out of your hiding spot to aim where you heard the sound and wait patiently for another moment, your eyes never leaving the bush right until you hear another crack — right when you release the arrow, your aim striking true as you hear a loud thud. You wait a few more seconds, and when no sound can be heard from the bushes you leave your cover, advancing towards your prey. When you push the branches away, you’re face to face with none other than—

A boar.

Shit. Well — guess you caught your next meal.

Another rustling of leaves has you drawing out your bow again, ready to strike, but you’re unable to tell where it comes from.

“How does it feel, little fox?” You hear him through the woods, his deep and raspy, but unnatural voice almost echoing through you. “To be the one being hunted?”

“I’m hunting you, too, in case you forgot,” you mumble mostly to yourself, not wanting to draw out more attention and telling on your location. 

Although you were confident in your capacities, you couldn’t deny the fear building up in your chest. The unnerving feeling of knowing he was around, knowing he was onto you, but unable to find him through the dense woods, the reminder of what he looked like before you ran for your life, a creature of darkness—

“Keep running, you delicious little thing,” his voice already seems to be coming from somewhere else, where exactly you couldn't tell, as if he was constantly moving and it came from everywhere all at once. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

Damn him. He could be anywhere, it was useless to stay there, out in the open, when he was clearly onto you. Then again, he could also intentionally be pushing you to run, only to lead you into a trap of his, right where he wanted you to be. 

No, you’re smarter than this. You won't let your emotions get in the way of this: you were a hunter, born and raised for this kind of situation.

He is just another prey; you can outsmart him. You are better than him.

You put away your bow and arrows; you know your long range weapons would be of no use to you if you couldn’t see your target. If he’s trying to make you run, he has to be further ahead, so the smart choice would be to go back on your tracks.

You turn on your heels in a heartbeat and start sprinting in the opposite way, not even bothering to look behind you for any sign of him, as you hear the clear rustling of branches around you. At this moment, you know he’s right on your tail, the sounds of the forest barely covering the sound of his own movements between the trees — if that was even him. You assume it is, but who’s not to say it isn’t just another boar? Either way, all you can do now is keep running, hoping he will tire before you.

But you were against a creature of the night, someone — or rather something, now — much more in its element, in the darkness of the woods, than you were. 

You don’t run for long before you stop abruptly in your tracks to change directions, leaving the clear road for the crowded forest, where you think you could lose him.

You're temporarily reassured when you don't hear him anymore, and allow yourself to breathe again. Your heart is pounding in your chest, faster than ever, as the fear of being chased — of your life being on the line — created a warmth within you that pooled right down to your core. The risk of being caught, as for once you’re the prey, and you can’t explain it, but it excites you. Although Astarion had gotten on your every nerve, you had to give it to him — he was right that his unnerving attitude had gotten a rise out of you in the most carnal way — but you’d never admit it to his face.

A good minute passes by with no sign of him, and you feel safe enough to peek out of your hiding spot, investigating the beaten path for any sign of life. When you’re met with a dead silence, you move away from the tree you had been leaning against, only to come face to face with Astarion, who drops from the branches just above you. His eyes are somehow a much deeper shade of red, his pupils fully blown out, and he even seems taller as he smiles down on you, and that’s when you perceive the additional fangs that appeared next to the smaller ones you knew. 

You’re fixated on his sudden presence, assessing your opponent the way you would a wild animal, and you remain unmoving, focused on your own breathing.

“Nowhere left to run, I’m afraid,” the voice that comes out of his mouth is otherworldly, almost a growl and nothing like his sultry voice he used to try and charm you before. It’s as if anything that once made him pass as a mortal was gone the second you ran off from him.

You want to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction, but he's faster than your thoughts. Before you can even move a finger, he grabs you by your neck, his sharp nails digging into your skin enough to draw blood as he pushes you against the nearest tree, slightly lifting you from the ground. Instinctively, you reach for your dagger, but he is fast to catch onto your intentions and takes it away from you, throwing it on the ground far from reach. With no other options left, you reach for his hand around your neck, trying to hold on as your vision blurs from the chokehold he had on you. 

“Caught you, little fox,” he leans into your neck where you bled from to breathe you in, and licks your skin from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw, tasting your sweat mixed with the dry blood left on you. Your camp clothing leaves you dangerously exposed as opposed to your armour, and he had every intention to take advantage of it. “You will make a fine meal indeed.”

He presses his entire body against you, and you can feel not only his oddly cold breath down your neck, but also his hard bulge rubbing against your navel, right above the heat between your legs. 

A particularly bad idea crosses your mind, and you know you’ll blame it on the lack of oxygen later, but for now, it’s the only option you have.

Your hand slides down to his crotch, where you squeeze his length through his trousers, making him shudder against you and loosening his grip on your throat. You take this chance to free yourself as you quickly push him away and against the earthy ground of the forest, pinning him down using your entire body weight. You land right next to your knife and grab it just in time before he comes to his senses, now holding it against his throat.

“I win,” you say, breathless, over him.

You remain unmoving, with the threat of your knife keeping him in place, but unsure what to do next — until he laughs. You’re taken aback, but you keep your position, pressing your blade deeper into his throat.

“Well done.” His voice softens, still deeper than what you’re used to, but less guttural than it was a minute ago. “You have me completely and utterly helpless. What will you do next, I wonder?”

You don’t get to answer before you feel him moving under you, his hardness rubbing against that sweet spot between your legs. Your breathing quickens once again, caught off guard by the delicious movement of his hips against you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

“Fulfilling my part of the bargain, of course.”

“That’s not—” he lifts his hips higher, the tip of his crotch rubbing against your clit, and your body tenses at the contact. He’s rock hard and between your thin camp clothes, it's almost as if you were rubbing skin to skin against each other. A pleasurable shiver running across your spine, and you allow yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, fighting between giving in to your desires or stopping yourself from letting this go any further; it was clear which side of you was winning over, as your hunger for that something more was becoming impossible to ignore. You soften your grip on his wrist and your dagger against his throat, and that’s all he needs to gain back dominance over you, flipping you back under him and seizing your wrists to pin you down the same way you had him only seconds ago.

“Now,” he says, “this is much better, don’t you think?”

“Oh you prick,” you groan, fighting to free yourself from his grip on you, but he only tightens his grasp around your wrists. His immortal strength beats yours and your hand twists under his crushing grip, making you finally release your knife.

You curse under your breath for letting yourself be bested by the most annoying member of your party; the one who you had dreamed to put back in his place was now dominating you instead. A mix of anger and shame swirls in your stomach, along with something else that you want to deny, but can’t for the life of you understand.

Your eyes meet his, dark and hungry and so incredibly close to you. His lack of breath is strange in comparison to yours, so heavy that your chest rises with each breath you take, brushing against him. It wasn't a position you were used to, either, and you find yourself liking it more than you thought you would; with his entire body pining against yours, his legs surrounding yours and keeping them closed together, your wrists held strongly above your head; a prey caught by her predator.

You remain unmoving in this position for what feels like an eternity, until he licks his lips, his eyes falling to the space in your neck that was exposed just for him.

He leans into you, his deep voice shooting a warmth straight to your core. “This little game of yours made me quite hungry.”

You gasp when you feel his bulge rubbing against you once more and touching that sweet spot that made you rub your thighs together. 

“Perhaps,” he whispers, “you've grown an appetite of your own, little fox?”

You take a few breaths, "If you wanna feed, be my guest. You…” you sigh, defeated. “You earned it. Just— be quick about it.”

You turn your head aside, looking away and giving him space to feed, only for him to lean back, “Quick? Oh darling, you’re mistaken if you don’t think I won’t draw this out as long as I possibly can.”

He pushes your wrist up above your head where he can hold them both with one hand, while his other hand slides down to your chest, his sharp nails grazing against the curve of your breast. You close your eyes as his hand continues its journey down your navel, and into your pants, rubbing against the moist spot that kept growing in your panties.

“But don’t worry — I’ll make sure we both get our fill tonight,” he growls.

Your hips move of their own accord, wanting more of him and his touch, almost against your own will.

“Greedy, greedy, little fox.” He flashes a toothy smile, “Can't get enough? I'm not surprised.”

Your eyes open back up and you stare at him, frustrated, “Gods, do you ever shut up?”

“You have such a way with words.” He sighs, pulling his hand out of your pants. “You know, it's a wonder we haven't gotten killed because of your social prowess.”

“If you think you’re so much better than me, why don’t you—”

His lips collide with yours into an hungry kiss, one bold enough to shut you right up. A part of you is disgusted, furious, even, that he would push himself onto you, but your body’s reaction betrays you, as you kiss him back with the same intensity. It’s sloppy, his elongated tongue invading your mouth and rubbing against yours, until he bites into it and sucks, letting your crimson hit his lips. 

You moan as you pull back, rolling your tongue around to feel the puncture he made, and he smiles down on you, his teeth tainted by your blood.

“Ah… delicious.”

Something comes over you, a supernatural strength — almost animalistic — and you flip him back around on his back to take control once again. Your dishevelled hair frames your face over him, and he gets to see you panting, teeth bared, with angry eyes towering over him. There's a flash of surprise in his eyes before they take back their lusty look, and his hands fly to your shirt, ripping it open as his nails tear through the fabric as if it were air. Your shirt is quickly discarded, exposing your skin to the cool night air that raises the hairs on your back.

In the frenzy, you give the same treatment to his shirt, using that strength to destroy his clothing and revealing the very muscles you spied earlier in his tent. He raises himself up to meet you where you sat over his hips, his mouth finding yours  and kissing you feverishly as he did before, while his hands work to remove your pants. 

With a grunt from him, you're pushed back on the harsh forest ground where he rips away your trousers, leaving you only with your panties to cover you. You gasp into his mouth, breathing in his cold breath, when the night air that matches his breath hits the thin fabric of your undergarments. The shock of temperature affects you more than you had anticipated, as you are completely soaked from your arousal that had pooled down there since the beginning of the night. Astarion instantly notices it, and laughs ominously.

“Are you still going to deny it now?” He pushes your underwear aside and slides his dexterous fingers between your folds, discovering just how dire your situation is. “Hells, look at how wet you are, just for me.”

His fingers feel good, and fucking Hells you didn’t want to admit it — he was an absolute asshole — but that ship had sailed a while ago, and now you just wanted to know how good he would feel inside you.

“If you still want to feed, you better do it now before I change my mind,” you groan.

“Change your mind?” He scoffs. “I'm afraid that isn't an option. I won fair and square, little fox; now I get to devour you every night.” He flips you around, the sudden roughness of the earthy floor rubbing against your sensitive nipples making you gasp in surprise. You feel him move behind you, and you're not sure how or when it happened, but he must've removed his own trousers as you feel the ghost of his cock hovering just over your entrance. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest with anticipation, and this feeling goes into your throat when he grabs you by the nape of your hair and pulls you into him, making you arch your back and clearly exposing your neck to him in the process. “Starting tonight.”

Within the same beat, he thrust into you, his hips slamming hard against your skin, and his fangs dive into the crook of your neck, finally taking what is rightfully his.

You cry out at the stabbing pain in your neck, this one much more different than the first time he bit you, as his elongated fangs dive deeper into your neck to draw out more of your life source, and the additional fangs leave more marks into your skin. It hurts and yet, you find your core growing warmer and wetter; between his bite and his reckless thrusting into you, with the added sensation of his initially cool skin getting warm from your blood. His thrusts gain in speed and force, and in that position, there is nothing else you can do but take it.

Even as you try to reach behind you with that last remaining will to have control, to grab his hair and pull him forward, Astarion takes a hold of your arm and pushes back against you, using his entire body weight to hold you firmly against the rough ground, and his hips to slam into your needy, little cunt. With your hair still pulled back, but your wrist now stuck in his grasp, he continues to take his fill of you with no restriction.

“Look at you, finally put in your place,” he growls as he licks up the drops of blood leaking from the fresh wounds in your neck. “Is this what you’ve been desiring all these times your eyes got lost at the sight of my body? What you’ve been dreaming of? To be properly used, like a bitch in heat? Ravaged by a beast?”

You manage to get a few words out between rushed breaths, sneering.

“F— Fuck. Y— You.”

He snickers wickedly, “I guess that answers my question. Don’t worry, pet. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh you—”

“Shh now,” Before you can even finish your sentence, his hand quickly moves from your wrist to your mouth, muffling any sounds coming from you. “We wouldn’t want to risk waking our dear friends, now, would we? Unless that’s what you want?” You groan in the palm of his hand and he chuckles. “You depraved little thing. I’ll give you just what you desire.”

His hand previously holding your hair goes down your body to hold your hips in place as he fucks you, and his teeth sink into your shoulder on the other side of your neck. The gesture meant only to keep you steady as he fucks you senseless. With his fangs deep into your skin, his nails cutting the soft skin of your hips and his dick pounding your abused cunt, you scream into his hand as you reach your climax. It’s nerve wracking, mind shattering, and leaves you completely drained. 

With a final push inside you, Astarion’s hips still and he growls into your neck, taking his last sip of you, as he pulses around your inner walls, filling you up with his warm seed. Your muscles fail you, as your body goes limp against the earthy ground, and you barely feel anything else — leaving you almost unconscious. Behind you, Astarion pulls out of you, and a weak moan escapes you as you feel his load leaking out of you.

While you’re recuperating from this treatment, Astarion loses his monstrous features: his nails retract, his pupils go back to those annoyingly charming red ruby eyes, his fangs retract just enough to fit back into his mouth, and he mimics breathing again; now passing as a mortal again.

With the minimal strength you manage to gain back, you push yourself up, and gather the few pieces of clothes that were shredded during your nightly session; tomorrow you would definitely need to find new camp clothes, these were the only ones you had and they were utterly ruined. Thank the Gods everyone else was fast asleep and you’ll be able to walk back to your tent without any remarks.

As you’re about to take your leave, completely disregarding the rogue who looked just as messy as you were, you hear him clear his throat.

“It’s always a pleasure to be doing business with you, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes before shooting him a glare. “Don’t push your luck.” Your cheeks still flushed, your hair all over the place, and your form barely clothed, making you not as convincing as you had hoped for. 

You only catch a glimpse of his smirk in response to you as you walk away, and when you catch yourself actually looking forward to it, you tell yourself it's only for the opportunity to put him back in his place. 

Perhaps another white lie to coat your true feelings, but no one needed to know about that.

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[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 1

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.

"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."

At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.

Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?

You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.

Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"

"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"

"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.

"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.

"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."

You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?

His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.

You may be projecting.

Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.

Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.

The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”

This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.

You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”

He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.

The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.

You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”

You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.

You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.

It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.

You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.

“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”

Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.

You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.

You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.

You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.

Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”

“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.

“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”

You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”

“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”

“Stow her somewhere safe.”

“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”

“Copy.”

When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.

You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.

And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”

Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.

And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.

“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”

“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”

“Why are you in Switzerland?”

“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”

“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.

“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”

“You are wearing a skull on your face.”

“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”

What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”

His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”

A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”

[starcurtain]

Following Topaz's explanation that Cornerstones are made to fill the hole in the user's heart, what "hole" in Aven's heart do you think his drag queen powers are meant to fill? Especially since Topaz remarks he's the only one with such showy powers

Still trying to catch up with all the messages in the inbox; sorry to everyone for taking a million years to respond.

So cunty, and for what???

Anyway, first, when Jade talks about the Stonehearts' "voids," the alternate reading above that word is actually "ambition." And she mentions that the reason she risked reaching out to Firefly is that she views herself as similar to Firefly--Jade is someone with an unfulfilled wish.

I think there's enough here to suggest that the Stonehearts' voids are not quite what we would normally think of when hearing the word "void"--rather than being best understood as something removed or something lost, their voids seem to be "something desired." An unfulfilled goal. An unmet need. A burning ambition. A secret wish. They all have somewhere they want to get to, and they've signed on-board with Diamond's Preservation project because his power is the fastest way--maybe the only way--to get there.

The implication here, by the way, is that the Stonehearts are acting out the very act of Preservation itself with Diamond. The goal of Qlipoth is for the universe to be saved, an unshakeable resolution to stop Destruction's wanton obliteration. Thus, Preservation itself can be understood as "A desire that must be continuously protected and relentlessly pursued." To live. To endure.

In using the power of an emanator to protect and provide the Stonehearts with ways to pursue their own desires, we replicate in miniature the exact resolve and endless pursuit of perseverance that Qlipoth is acting out in the broader universe. The will of Preservation empowers the Stonehearts--and in turn, the Stonehearts swear an oath to aid in Preservation's mission. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement, and it also simultaneously imitates Jade's shop perfectly: I'll give you exactly what you want, if you give me what I need.

I should clarify that I don't actually think the cornerstones themselves fill the Stonehearts' voids. Rather, they seem to me to be a tangible symbol of the oath between Diamond and the Stonehearts--"I'll give you this power to fulfill your deepest wish, if you work for me." Jade suggests that the power of the cornerstones provides Stonehearts with the means to fill their voids (I.e., having superpowers makes it possible for you to pursue your wish), so I think their individual cornerstone abilities are best understood as "The exact power I need to achieve my particular goal."

So what does that say about Aventurine's "showy" transformation?

Pretty much all the rest of this is just going to be my personal speculation, but I'd say the most telling glimpse we get into why Aventurine's power is so "visual" comes from these lines with the future "Aventurine" in 2.1:

There's two completely contradictory desires being expressed here: Aventurine's life "is the chip he's most eager to lay down" and "always has been"--that is, he genuinely wants to die. He isn't just willing to gamble with his life, he's eager to. The future "Aventurine" also says real Aventurine wants to be "polished up" (to be controlled and molded by others) and "cuffed with red-hot chains" (to be made powerless and not responsible for making his own decisions, to be punished).

But conversely, the real Aventurine also wants to be perceived as "a smooth operator" and "the solid gold deal-maker who doesn't waste a drop of sweat." He wants to be in charge of his image. He wants to be the one who controls the narrative and defines how others think of him. He wants to be "spotlit center stage"--to command the eyes of the world. In short, we could say that Aventurine wants his death (and conversely, his life) to mean something.

From these conflicting desires, I think you can derive a few totally opposite but equally valid interpretations of why Aventurine's cornerstone power is so "visual":

A combat-oriented transformation is another means to seek death.

Jade's power is scary, but she isn't using it to literally launch herself into fights. Topaz's seems to be similar--something that might allow her to win over her opponents in some way (she was about to use it in Belobog to no-sell the Trailblazer), but she clarifies directly that it is not a "transformation." Aventurine just literally turns into a boss enemy and goes straight out on to the battlefield.

In the fight, he doesn't even use shields. (Now whether that's something he never does because the cornerstone powers don't actually come with shields while in his monster form, if he couldn't use shields because his cornerstone was broken, or if he just chose not to use shields in this fight to give Trailblazer and Co. a fighting chance, only time will tell. However, it might be worth noting that his empowered Apocalyptic Shadow form doesn't come with shields either, despite having other new mechanics.)

The point is, this form, while looking cool and seeming strong, is actually a gamble in and of itself. To go out onto the battlefield, where you might not actually be the strongest combatant, is always a risk. And I think this is the kind of risk that Aventurine manifests continually in his life. He is constantly creating opportunities for his own luck to fail. His unfulfilled desire, the "ambition" he was desperate enough to join the Stonehearts to pursue--as his original goal to save his people is completely gone, his only current goal might actually just be a chance to die. His powers may manifest as a combat-oriented transformation because that is just one more way to throw himself into the crossfire.

In fact, this is exactly what Sugilite accuses him of in Jade's myriad celestia:

You didn't need to snatch his wig this hard, Sugilite. (Also I need you all to know I originally wrote "You didn't need to come for him this hard, Sugilite," but then I realized how unfortunate that wording was, so...)

You could even argue that the fact Aventurine's transformation comes with a mask that obscures his entire face is a sign that we're supposed to see this form as dehumanizing.

The facial features are completely obscured and asymmetrical, there's no mouth, his fingers have become claws--despite his body staying mostly human-shaped, it's obviously intended to hint at something monstrous, subsuming his original identity behind a violent facade.

Kakavasha disappears entirely behind "Aventurine" when he transforms, becoming a faceless enemy at the risk of (perhaps in hopes of) entirely losing himself. Maybe every transformation lets Aventurine throw himself closer and closer to the edge of death--and perhaps, before Penacony, only death could ever have filled the "void."

But, on the complete opposite hand (because Aventurine is always both sides of the coin), we could also argue the other end of the spectrum entirely:

A combat-oriented transformation is a show of force.

This screencap brought to you by Mr. Rubhen925 of Youtube.

Aventurine's entire life has been marred by disenfranchisement, by violations of his basic human rights, freedoms, and agency. At every turn, he has been victimized by others more powerful than himself: his childhood consisted of his clan being relentlessly hounded and hunted to extinction by the Katicans, having their food constantly stolen, their meager belongings burned to the ground, and each one of his family members systematically slaughtered, often in front of his eyes.

After his childhood, he was bought and sold as chattel for pennies, branded like an animal, and forced into a fight where to he had to beat other innocent people to death just to keep himself alive, all for the entertainment of the masses. Even Jade, who promised to help him achieve his goals, treats him like a business investment more than a friend.

In Penacony, we watch everyone he talks to degrade and ostracize him. Even though Aventurine led him into doing it, Sunday tortures and re-traumatizes him live for our entertainment.

Even more that, we see Aventurine constantly struggling with the question of whether his life is really his own or whether his blessing from Gaiathra means that his entire existence has been predetermined, his fate sealed in blood and sand from the very moment of his birth, utterly inescapable.

No matter how Aventurine tries to portray himself as the ultimate winner, he's only ever the "final" victor--being the only one left standing at the end is meaningless if on the road to getting there, you were treated like fate's favorite punching bag. Winning in the end is utterly pointless if on the road to winning, you still lost it all first, from the things you loved to your personal freedom.

What does a person who has been made powerless again and again truly desire? What void do you seek to fill if life has denied you your agency over and over?

Power. Dominance. The ability to literally strike back at those who've wronged you. The strength to intimidate and force people into a corner the way you've been intimidated and forced before.

If we say that Aventurine's "void" is not a literal desire for the release of death, then it might make sense for the "void" to instead to be a frantic desire to gain control over his circumstances. To be the one finally in charge of deciding his own fate.

Particularly in light of his character story which tells us that Kakavasha's original goal for joining the Stonehearts was to save his people, the desire to take on an impressive form that screams "I'm powerful" and has the ability to physically enact vengeance on others feels directly aligned. And it remains aligned even after the reveal that the Avgins are all gone--once more fate strips Kakavasha of his power to make a difference in the world, to achieve what he truly dreams of.

The Apocalyptic Shadow version of his boss fight is called "Desperate Diceroller."

How angry he must be, deep down. How hateful the world must seem. How sad it is to feel that way.

If destiny won't let you out of the cage, your only choice is to grow claws to tear it open.

Okay, but WHY so much swag though?

Are the peacock feathers and spandex really necessary?

Listen. Everyone talks about Ratio having "gifted kid" syndrome, but I'm here to tell you that Aventurine is actually a burnt out gifted kid extraordinaire.

He's literally, canonically, explicitly the chosen one of his people.

From the moment of his birth, his mother and sister--and presumably others in his clan even--were telling him that he was their clan's most precious treasure and that he would lead them to prosperity and safety.

He carried this weight even after fleeing from the massacre, all through his childhood and teenage years, through slavery and abuse, putting his very life on the line to join the IPC in hopes of finally fulfilling the destiny his mother and sister promised he could.

He was supposed to save them. That was his meaning. That was his purpose in life.

But he was too late.

The fate he was born for, raised believing, and risked everything to achieve... is still incomplete.

So, for all that talk about suicide and power-seeking, my real answer is this: Aventurine's "void" is his unfulfilled destiny.

His whole existence has been predetermined, his life's journey laid out in prophecy and blessings from the very beginning. Yet what he thought was his fate betrayed him, and where you head after becoming an unsuccessful chosen one is a question without answer.

His thoughts constantly circle around how he is a "failure" and a "loser."

When you have no sense of purpose, when your life has no meaning, when what you are still seeking is the role you were supposed to have from the moment of your birth: the glorious destiny of being a savior, being the "happiness" of your people, being the hero...

Of course you crave the spectacle. Of course you long for the spotlight--you long to be recognized. Because Kakavasha's the chosen one. "Spotlit center stage" is where he's supposed to be--in the leading role that was stolen from him.

I think that Aventurine's cornerstone transformation is so flashy because, at the core, it represents a longing to truly be the "precious wealth" of the Avgin that his sister promised him he would be. It represents his desire to transform from a useless, "discarded" person into a larger-than-life version of himself. (Hey, fun fact, out of every official depiction of Aventurine, his boss model wears the only outfit in which his slave brand is not naturally visible.) He literally transforms into a supernatural being, capable of seizing others' fates in his hands. It represents the power he needed to save his people and himself. Its extreme flashiness screams for attention, demands to be witnessed as something beyond a helpless human.

It's almost as if Aventurine is a child writing a wish-fulfillment story where he transforms into a hyper-glamorous, all-powerful masked superhero who is capable of saving the day and winning against his enemies every time.

Unlike Jade and Topaz, Aventurine can't hide his deepest desire. It was always going to be a "transformation," because Aventurine's unanswered wish is to be someone better than himself.

His "void," his deepest unachieved ambition--it's written right there, all over his body.

Aventurine's cornerstone power is a story he's telling himself about the person he was supposed to be.

But as Acheron claims, that's life itself.

Aventurine doesn't feel like he has any control over his journey's ultimate destination.

He doesn't know where's he's headed or what the purpose of it all is. But...

Jade explicitly describes the Ten Stonehearts and Diamond's endeavor as a "journey" as well:

Because Preservation represents the continuance of life itself, and the Stonehearts with their endless "voids"--Aventurine with his soul-deep longing to become someone better than himself--represent all of us very real human beings, trying our best to find our own "cornerstones," to gain the means to finally, finally achieve our own sweet dreams.

[bloodbenderz]

there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )

it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too

sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill

everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.

many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.

in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.

what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.

which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.

all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.

yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.

it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance

Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad

[beanarie]

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

~

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

[fandomapocalypse]

Love and relationships in Hazbin Hotel

Episode 7 has something interesting and in the song that is called "Out for love" is sung by a character that is referring to a type of love different from a romantic or sexual one, Carmilla is openly talking about familial love. Vaggie of course relates this to her romantic feelings towards Charlie and how she wants to help her. But something else interesting happens in episode 7, Rosie is properly introduced as Alastor's bestie. This leads to showing another type of love: platonic love.

Now to the main point of this post: Alastor. It's canon that he is aroace and as an ace myself (I'm still questioning whether I'm aromantic or demiromantic but this post isn't about me lol) I'm extremely happy to see myself through him. Plus, the fact that the perfect Tumblr sexyman is aroace is genius and hilarious, you can't possibly top this type of humor.

Alastor for me has been a great ace representation and I've seen myself mainly in how he acts around his friends or other people.

When it comes to Niffty it looks more like a relationship between someone with their feral cat or their crazy little sister. But it's still a genuine connection and a fun chaotic one at that, he even lets her touch his hair and climb on him. In regards to Mimzy, he has shown he cares about her and welcomes her with open arms. He openly hugs her, which shocks everyone in the cast. This is extremely important because Alastor usually only starts physical contact to mock others or to pretend physical closeness as a manipulation tactic (like he often does with Charlie). When it comes to people he hates Alastor may touch them but will quickly wipe his hand on his clothes, like what he did with Lucifer. Personally, I don't like personal contact and only accept it if I start it and usually I use it as a way to show affection with close friends. Also, they have known each other since they were alive, so Mimzy probably knows a lot about Alastor that the rest of the cast doesn't. Mimzy also says that they used to dance together. But that doesn't exclude the fact that she uses Alastor's friendship and affection to save her own ass and taking into account how Husk reacted to Mimzy, this isn't the first time she does this. Also, the relationship between the two starts to crumble after what happened in episode 6 and Mimzy seems to be the kind of friend who will pretend that they are still on good terms and still ask Alastor for favors in the future.

Now jumping back to Alastor's true bestie: Rosie. They probably bonded at first over their cannibalistic natures but it's clear that it evolved beyond that. Personally, I don't ship Alastor with anyone, but when it comes to Rosie I headcanon they are in a QPR.

There are various reasons why this relationship is so great and wholesome, the first one being that there is no power imbalance, they are equals. Both are cannibalistic overlords and are on equal footing in terms of power. When Rosie first sees Alastor she is genuinely happy which is something new because most people react badly to him out of fear or hatred.

Alastor respects Rosie, he even compliments her, in her introduction he says she is "the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord of this side of the pentagram". Considering how self-centered and narcissistic he can be, it means a lot. Alastor would rather die again than compliment another Overlord who isn't Zestial, which he respects but out of fear. Alastor respects Rosie as his close friend. When they stand next to each other they give an air of equals, something that never happens thanks to Alastor's ego and sadism towering over everyone else. With Rosie it's different and Rosie can openly tease Alastor with the "Look at you, so polite! Alastor you can learn a thing or two" when comparing him to Charlie when meeting her, or "I'm just kidding, I know you're an ace in the hole" to tease him about his asexuality. This is something that not a lot of people can do because Alastor is obsessed with control and respect. After all, we see how badly he reacted when Husk insulted him.

He also harmonizes with her, he willingly makes a duet with her in "Ready for this". He isn't interrupting her, instead, he agrees with her and they sing together in unison. This is the first time he doesn't openly hijack a song or fight for control over it, like he did with Vox and Lucifer (although this also happened because this is Charlie's song, but who cares the point still stands). Also, this is the first time we see him dance with someone, instead of forcing them to join his musical number (like he does with Charlie on various occasions). Alastor and Rosie are in perfect sync and it's so wholesome and precious to see him being so openly happy with her. Many have pointed out that the only times Alastor is genuinely smiling is when he is with Rosie and it shows by his expression in his eyes.

Finally, Rosie is the only one capable of bringing the most human emotions out of him, the most obvious one being confusion. In the scene of "ace in the hole" Rosie manages to confuse and surprise Alastor for a solid second, which is a huge change of his persona around everyone else of control and manipulation. Also, it's hilarious that Alastor doesn't know what being aroace is, he probably thinks he is above all that.

He is openly relaxed around Rosie and lets her touch him in an affectionate way, something that not even Mimzy can do. It may be because of the height difference but Mimzy only touches Alastor to hug him and to emphasize he is a "heartless son of a bitch" and Alastor clearly gets irritated by her touching him that way and even moves her finger away from him. This never happens with Rosie and he even welcomes her touching him by not having any walls with her. It's Rosie the one starting the physical contact and Alastor doesn't seem to mind and he never tries to use physical contact to take advantage of her like he does with other characters. Rosie is one of the few people who can touch Alastor without losing an arm and instead have a positive reaction out of him.

The most genuine relationship Alastor has is with Rosie, he even has the confidence and comfort to stop his elegant and reserved persona of not swearing. Which he only does when he is truly angry, like what happened with Lucifer. Or when he is threatening someone like he did with Adam. Or when he is shocked when his microphone breaks. He swears to insult Susan, which is someone they both despise equally. Something that you would only do with your closest bestie.

Finally, let's talk about Alastor's breakdown in the last episode. We've already seen that Alastor is capable of having friendships that aren't based on an end goal. Alastor knows this but he rejects it because he is at the hotel originally for selfish goals and doesn't want his emotions to get in the way. He is terrified of ruining his reputation as a sadistic killer and becoming an altruistic who cares about his friends. Alastor wants to stop himself from starting to care about the crew the same way he cares about Rosie, Mimzy, or Nifty to some degree. This is confirmed by his conversation with Niffty, where he admits he has grown accustomed to the main crew and perhaps he is growing feelings of affection towards them in his own way.

In regards to shipping him with Rosie, I see it as a platonic ship or a QPR. Some people have a headcanon that if they had known each other when they were alive they would have married for tax benefits and to avoid the social stigma, which is the only right answer. When they first met in hell they probably had dates in cannibal town where they ate human flesh while gossiping and trash-talked about the other overlords. Which is exactly what an ace person like myself wants from a close friendship.

As an ace, I really like Alastor not because he is the ultimate Tumblr sexyman or see him as hot but because he is an extremely fun character that I can relate to. I'm grateful for the crew and VA that take into account he is aroace and take seriously that aspect of his character. I don't mind that the aroace representation in Hazbn Hotel is a narcissistic psychopath, if you want a more wholesome ace representation you can check Todd in Bojack Horseman or Saiki in The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I don't mind people shipping Alastor, after all, it's just people having fun, but you can't ignore that he is aroace and how this affects his relationships. So yeah have fun and respect and aroace community :)

ok thanks for hearing my rant bye

[noellefan101]

Too Scared to Let Go(To Lose You)

Characters; Lynette, Navia, Xiao, Scaramouche, Lyney, Kaeya, La Signora x gn Reader

Summary; they wont let go of you, no matter what. They can't protect you from harm when they aren't there, so they hold you close to ensure you're there. they've already lost so much.

Warnings; angst, maybe a little bit yandere,

Notes; i did the obvious like xiao, scara, signora and stuff but if i make a part two ill maybe put someone like barbara or nilou in, but that would just be them having intrusive thoughts... probably. will add diluc and venti there as well dont worry, love you

Lynette

She always thinks that you're going to die at some point, get kidnapped or just straight up leave, these thoughts come up once every week or so. But when your out and about or just working late, her thoughts run faster than ever. Of course she has lyney and the rest of the house, but she's just gotten so used to being with both lyney and you now that it doesnt quite feel the same. So her solution is often to hug you as tight as she can when sleeping, hoping you wont disappear in the morning.

And of course you try and help her as much as you possibly can, reassuring her that you wont leave and that youll find a way to get back to her no matter what happens when out and about, but that sometimes just doesnt cut it.

She doesnt cry often, but when she does its a lot, tears streaming down her face for an hour or two, and even longer if you, Lyney and Freminet aren't there with her.

Navia

She cant let go of you in the morning, it was always like that, but it had gotten so much worse after the loss of her two beloved bodyguards. She often mumbles in her sleep about you and how she wants you to stay. Something along the lines of:

“no… no, don’t go, stay… please!! Just stay with me!”

“please stay… stay with me… where did you go… no, come back, please…”’

“[name]… please stay with me… please… just stay…”

You have to wake her up when it seems like she’s panicking and try your best to comfort her, but sometimes she just doesn’t get any sleep because she wants to make sure you don’t disappear while she is asleep. She is of course the same shining Navia when around other people like the Traveler and Paimon, but everyone can see that she doesn’t want to let go of you at all, fearing you’ll vanish if you leave her line of sight for even just a second, its like you’re glued to her.

If people ever see you, they know for a fact that Navia is also there, no matter what. Oh, you want to go over and wish your friend a happy birthday, well she can carry a gift for them with her so you don’t have to. You wanted to cook something but is missing one singular ingredient, you can you go get it together, don’t worry she isn’t putting back anything for it (she totally is, and has multiple offers and such she should be taking a look at rn).

Xiao

He says he shouldn’t be near you all the time, but doesn’t let go when you make him give in to his desires. He’ll hurt you, and you know that, so why are you still here with him. Wait, no, he isn’t trying to make you go away, please don’t, ever. He just cares about you enough to not want you getting hurt because of his karmic debt, he loves you too much to let that happen. But the thought of you leaving him fills his mind more than the karmic debt at times, he dreads it, the fact that you’ll leave eventually, he doesn’t care if its by choice or fate, just don’t. please, please, please don’t leave, just stay with him, please.

He doesn’t want to let go, but feels he needs to, you tell him its fine yet he feels like it isn’t. it feels like he’s hurting you every second of being with you, yet he doesn’t try to let go, he doesn’t even give the thought a chance. you say you’re fine, yet he feels like you’re not. He

feels like hes hurting you, he’s hurting more because of it. But then why does it hurt more without you, why, oh why. What have you done to him, just what did you do that made him so addicted to you. Swear you’ll never leave him ever, and he will do the same, as long as you’re here with him he swears he wont hurt you, he’ll break the karma in half for you, he’ll do anything. Just don’t leave him, please don’t.

Scaramouche

Everyone would say he’s too cocky, confident, and mean. But that’s all because he doesn’t let them see the vulnerable side of him, the leftovers of Kunikusuhi, the side he only shows to you. He shows you they way he cries at the mere thought you could leave him one day, he sobs in your chest as you comfort him and let him focus and anything but the nightmares haunting his being. He wont ever be like that with anyone that isn’t you, he doesn’t give a shit about them they can do whatever, but you have to stay.

He doesn’t care about all the others as long as you don’t leave him too, he doesn’t care about anything other than you. So please, please don’t leave him, ever, he would watch the world burn over and over again as long as he has you.

If you ever told anyone that the 6th harbinger, scaramouche, cries at night just because you left to go get a glass of water, they would call you crazy, say he’s never cried in his life that you must have seen things. But you know its true, and he does too, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He knows you wont go, you always say you wont, but he just cant let himself to believe you, not when he’s been lied to so many times. He worries too much about you and he knows that, but how could he not, he loves you, and will never let you leave him because you love him too, right?

Lyney

Although he may be the confident, charming and romantic magician Lyney everyday in public, when he finally lets go of the role at home he’s nowhere near that. He cries just because he wanted to see you and he finally did, he worries about not being able to save you someday. He’s a worrywart to say the least

If you were gone for too long, whether on a mission from father or anything else really, he would not be calm at all until you come back. he would only be rather calm after he got a letter from you or in one of his shows where he put too many layers of masks on to hide it. he wants to think that your ok, just as Lynette say you are, you're strong. but he still cant help but worry,and he ends up panicked and stressed, without sleep, too tired to think sbout anything else other than you. dont leave him, he wouldnt survive without you.

That's why you cant leave him. hell lose his mind, and destroy everything around him in the process. he cant let you leave, so please, please don't. his heart is already fragile, it beats only for you now, so don't leave. don't leave. don't... please... please don't, he cant handle that. so, please, don't leave him, ever. stay right here with him, forever.

Kaeya

He doesnt remember his birth parents, he hates them but a little bit, but mostly because they left him, he cant handle thinking about them. and it only made his pain worse when he lost the people he called his family once again, so he cant afford to lose anything else, not when he feels completely at home once again. you are his home now, his family, and his joy. so don't leave or he might lose his mind and start ruining himself from the inside and out.

He loves you, a lot, you're his reason to continue in life. so if he ever sees you leave he would cry, even if all you are doing is leaving his office after giving him his lunch, he would shed a tear at the sight. his heart is fragile ok? He can't bear to lose his life once again, not after his parents left, not after his adoptive family left too.

Don't go, stay, stay right here with him and everything will be fine. i will all be fine, you trust him after all, and he won't let anyone touch you, let alone hurt you. you're safe here with him, don't worry about them, worry about him. you've got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing, you could want a certain sweet from Inazuma and he'll get it as fast as possible. you can get anything you want, ok? The only condition is that you stay right here with him, and only him.

La Signora

She swore she wasn’t going to fall for anyone after her first lover died, so why did she fall for you, how did she fall for you. Honestly you don’t know and she doesn’t either, she doesn’t know how you were able to melt her ice cold heart back to normal, even if only around you and you only, if anyone else is around it freezes back quicker than lightning can strike. She thought she wasn’t able to love again after he died, but you proved her wrong, so you can’t leave too. She cant deal with the death of her lover once again, so don’t leave her, ever.

You hug her in the night as she cries a little, mad at you for leaving her in her dream, but still not mad at you, as her anger is mostly to the world for doing this to her. But don’t worry, she’ll fall asleep eventually as she always does, she does need her beauty sleep after all. But that doesn’t mean she’ll wake up and easily let go again or just get out of bed, she’s stubborn and want you all for herself a little longer. She makes you talk a little as you carefully brush her hair like she taught you to do, and she relaxes a bit when you tell her you love her while kissing her head.

As long as you promise you wont leave her, and keep that promise, she’ll love you forever, she cant bare to see you go out the door even if its just for groceries, someone else can do that don’t worry. Just come and relax with her in a bath, she can wash your hair and you can wash hers. She’ll take care of you like you take care of her, just don’t leave, please. If you ever left her alone for too long she would freak out, she does everything with you, baths, shopping, paperwork even, so she cant bear to be left alone for longer than 30 minutes or she’ll panic. So don’t leave her please, please, please don’t, she’ll even beg for you to not leave her, just stay here with her.

Thank u for reading this, i know this took a long time and I havent posted things these few like weeks I think but I may have writers block(idk why I say it like that) and this was made over like a few months actually heh, luv ya

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[bitterbutblue]

interrogation - jane doe

just know you'll taste me too ☆ jane doe x fem!reader

~ THE JANE DOE TRAILER WAS SO FAN SERVICE BUT SORRY IT UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME... HOT RAT GIRL SAVE ME...

warning: SUGGESTIVE AND I SAY THE SEX WORD LIKE ONCE

song: taste - sabrina carpenter ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The first thing you took note of was how much your head hurt. An incessant pounding, each worse than the last. You take a deep breath in, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. It stings, breathing stings. It's like a blade dragging itself down your throat and it makes you feel like coughing. The second thing you take note of is the feeling of ropes digging into your skin around your wrists and ankles. You squirmed, trying to move but to no avail. You were tied down. The last thing you took note of was where you were. Your vision begins to clear itself after a couple blinks- you looked around, breathing shakily as you eyed the dark surroundings. Nothing but a single lamp light pointed down at you. Everything else was dark.

"Good morning~"

A sultry voice echoes through the room- low and smooth. The woman's voice wraps around your neck, her voice is your chokehold. You look around, eyes darting from left to right, up to down, as you try to find the source of the voice.

"Who- where the fuck am I?"

Your voice is hoarse, raspy. Your throat feels scratchy and speaking just dries it out even more. You wonder how long you've been knocked out for.

"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"

"Who the fuck wouldn't?"

You couldn't stop the retorts- yes you were about to possibly die but what fucking right does this woman have?

"Honestly, I don't think that matters too much. Also, watch your language- it's quite vulgar."

The figure steps out from the shadows, a blade in her hand. An all-too smug smirk on her face as she crouches down to your eye level. You would recognise that goddamn face from anywhere.

"Jane."

"Hi."

"Fuck you."

She just giggles.

"Glad to see you remember me."

Supposedly working for under the boss of your gang, but god knows better than that. You had your suspicions since the very first day and the day your gang got busted down. She had ran away- and the last thing you remember is a waft of smoke in front of your eyes and a wet towel with a foul odour over your nose and mouth.

"Bitch."

She narrows her eyes, standing up to move behind you. You hear her footsteps, soft but it still echoes in the hollows of this dark room. You gasp when you feel her lean over your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as she smiles.

"Don't think I've forgotten our history, my dear."

Gay people always have some fucked up history with each other and this is more or less the proof. Having had sex with her on multiple occasions while she was working for your boss was probably not ideal for this situation too.

"Shame. I always wanted to see you tied down for me, just not under these circumstances."

You scoffed, looking away. You couldn't help the blush that had started creeping up from your neck and had now dusted your cheeks with a bright shade of pink. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find some way out of the stupid ropes.

"What do you want."

You curse yourself for your shaky voice.

"I just have a few questions."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It was always more than 'just a few questions'. It has never, and never will be, 'just a few questions' with Jane. She moves so that she's knelt between your thighs and in other circumstances this would've been incredibly hot (but truthfully told you couldn't help but swallow at the sight). Her tail wraps itself around your leg as she inches closer.

"How did he get away?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? You knocked me the fuck out!"

She rests a hand on your thigh and you physically shudder at the touch.

You feel pathetic.

"You were a high ranking member. Not as high ranking as me.. but-"

"Okay, no need to rub that in-"

"But. We had you all surrounded. There was no way a 7 foot giant of a man could've gotten away. How?"

Is she just bad at her job?

"Dude, how the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a lower rank than you- you should've kidnapped someone else for fuck's sake!"

Jane just giggles as her fingers begin inching up higher and higher and the once icy cold room suddenly feels like it's burning hot. You squirm again, there has to be some fucking way out of these binds. Her tail unravels itself, moving up so that it caresses your face. You shiver at the touch- the cold, metallic blade just barely grazing your cheek.

"You had connections with him no one else had."

"Shut- what?"

"You were the most convenient one to grab... considering your long history with the boss I wouldn't be surprised if he was your uncle."

"He's not." You scowl, trying not to show her exactly how much her touch affects you. You feel the blade on her tail move down, now moving itself to graze your neck.

Why was that so hot?

"Hm, sure."

She just giggles again, this time moving off her knees and back onto her feet. She presses a hand against your chest, the other on the side of your thigh as she leans down so that her face was mere inches from yours and you can feel her breath fan against your face and you can feel her eyes boring into yours and-

Oh you're so gay.

"Just tell me where he went, and we can settle this nicely like before."

"What? Did you just want to fuck me one last time before I go to jail or something?"

"Maybe." She shrugs, hand trailing up so that it wrapped around your neck. You felt her squeeze gently, and your breath catches in your throat. The room is overheating. You're overheating.

"Just be a good girl for me and tell me the truth?"

That bitch.

You couldn't help but shudder but god you can't give in to her because you're horny and pathetic, that's so stupid!

"Fuck you."

She sighs.

"I knew this would take a while."

Her eyes dart up and down your body, taking in your restrained state with a small and satisfied smirk as her grasp around your throat softens. You catch your breath- only for it to be taken away when you feel her blade trail downwards.

"I don't mind staying."

[corvidaequeer]

There's not really a point to this. I'm not saying Arcane is bad or you shouldn't watch it or you shouldn't like Jayce or jayvik... I'm just feeling annoyed at the way they took Jayce's character in the second season for a lot of reasons & I want to rant about it.

Starting with the whole scene of Jayce & Mel talking by comatose Viktor. Jayce says "never again" to making hextech weapons & Mel promises to protect his & Victor's dream. Then, 30 seconds later, Jayce makes Caitlyn more hextech weapons anyway! His wishy-washy promise wasn't surprising, just annoying that he'd make the same mistake AGAIN (Then a third time to defend Piltover from Ambessa's attack).

-

Later, in seeing the whole story, we know that Viktor sent Jayce back to teach himself some life lesson. So why was Jayce's first reaction to kill Salo & blow a hole in Viktor's chest?? Shouldn't he have tried to reach Viktor in a less murdery way first? Try to reason with him & teach him said life lesson? It just doesn't make sense.

-

After Jayce gets back to Piltover, he has this sudden resentment & distrust towards Mel. Where did that come from? Why does Jayce suddenly think Mel is an enemy?

Jayce starts accusing Mel of selecting who she protected. What would she have to gain from that? Even if Mel DID know she had powers, why would Jayce think she would willfully let the council & Viktor die? Why would he think her so cruel?

Then there's the "investments" line. Firstly, it was Alora that called Jayce an investment. Mel just said, "Indeed." Secondly, Who the fuck told him that happened anyway??

Then Jayce claims Mel was "using" them? Yes, she wanted Jayce & Viktor as allies & directed them in her favor, but thats really not "using" them. She saw a good opportunity to make some change & took it like anyone else would. The rest of the council used him for their own benefit far more than Mel did. But more importantly, Mel CARED about Jayce & Viktor. She cared about their dreams & helped them to achieve it! She was the one who supported them from the start. She was trying to get the council NOT to make hextech weapons. She wanted to protect their dream, but she's still somehow "using" Jayce & Viktor to get hextech?! Jayce is the one who keeps making hextech weapons without anyone pressuring him to do so! So what was the narrative point of having Jayce take his regrets out on Mel? What function did it serve?

That whole scene was just-

Mel: Hey, I need some emotional support from this traumatic thing that just happened to me

Jayce: Fuck you, Mel! You should have saved everyone. Also, how dare you have unconditionally supported Viktor & I & our research!!

The anger towards her just comes out of nowhere & has no evidence to back it up & it annoys me. Also, it just feels out of character, even with the more edgy way they portrayed Jayce in act 2 & 3. So, just, why?

-

Then there's "my partner died in this room." Jayce saw Viktor in the future, as himself, not the machine herald. He spoke with him & promised to fix things. So clearly, Viktor's humanity wasn't dead, so why even say that? What was the point?

-

Then there's Jayce's little speech. There are so many things with this.

Jayce, who had up to this point, chose violence, is suddenly all soft again & just NOW trying to reach Victor. Where was that in the last few days?? Would he not have done this first instead of blasting a hole in him?

"You always wanted to cure what you thought were weaknesses" No, bitch, he wanted to help people in poverty & didn't want to fucking die!! What are you even talking about!? Viktor was insecure ONE TIME about being up on stage, so why is Jayce diminishing Viktor's ENTIRE MOTIVATION to him being insecure about being disabled??

Then, in the same line of thinking, there's Jayce saying Viktor's disability & illness (his "imperfections") make him beautiful & he admires Viktor for that??! Cut the inspiration porn trope! Are we not passed that?!

Lastly, Jayce is supposed to show Viktor some life lesson of all that being left is "dreamless solitude" & "there is no prize to perfection" but Jayce doesn't even say any of that?? He just shows Viktor saying it. How is that something only Jayce can do?

Sure, I love the idea of Cosmic Destiny Partners. It's a great idea & a somewhat happy ending for these two. I get it, I do. But the whole path leading up to it & its execution was poor, confusing, & frankly ableist.

-

In general, Jayce just felt inconsistent.

Yeah, in season 1, Jayce has a track record for flip-flopping on his morals & ideals. His character arc is that of someone being easily swayed. He makes a lot of mistakes & then corrects himself by swinging in the complete opposite direction, only to make more mistakes. It's his character flaw.

Then season 2, he becomes more resolute in the promise he mentions. You think, oh, this makes sense. He finally grew a backbone & is standing his ground. Apparently, choosing violence as his footing, but still. He keeps this aggressive demeanor up for the rest of season 2. But then suddenly, right at the last second, he turns around & says the softest & sappiest shit in the whole show?? The fluffy confession of adoration & partnership just comes out of nowhere! If you're taking Jayce in an aggressive direction, then do so. Don't come in swinging with this totally different person.

Overall, it just feels like Jayce is there for shock value & relationship drama instead of being an actual character with solid motivations & and a steady narrative.

[tonyspank]

Tony....please make me an angsty-romantic, JO or JO character x Fem!Reader one shot! You decide who it fits more. With a good ending, please!

I'm currently listening to Waves by Calpurnia.... this song is so mesmerizing.

My request would be based on that, but it's okay if you don't want to do it!

Hope you are eating well, Thank you so much!

-🎸

HOLD ON

Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: “I don’t want to die.”

Warnings: Cancer, gunshot, blood, violence, and let me know if there’s anymore.

A/N: thank you so much for this request anon! i hope you enjoy, although im not very good at angst 💔

Jenna’s not famous in this & also! this was heavily inspired by jbs music video !!

1.7k words

$13,892, the minimum amount the doctors told you Jenna's treatment would be. $14,283, the amount you were quoted by a second hospital for the same treatment.

The problem? Jenna has no insurance.

Jenna has no insurance, and you have no money. You saw the look on your girlfriend's face when you were given these estimates, and you knew she practically gave up right then and there. You promised Jenna you would find a way to cover the cost, no matter what it took. But you have no idea where to begin.

That was three weeks ago.

Jenna was your best friend, your companion, and your girlfriend, and you can't bear to see her suffer without the treatment she needs. But with only two months until the deadline, you still have no idea how you'll ever be able to afford the medical attention she needs.

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, your back against your bed frame, and a hand covers your face. You take a deep breath, but it does little to soothe the tightness in your chest. You feel lost, helpless, and hopeless.

But you know one thing for sure: No matter what happens, you'll do anything and everything you can to help Jenna.

Jenna stirs in her sleep, awaking you from your thoughts. You quickly wipe away a tear before she opens her eyes. You know that you have to stay strong for her, no matter how overwhelmed you may feel.

When she opens her eyes and looks around, her gaze finally meets yours. Her smile is weak, and you can see the pain behind her eyes. She holds her hand out to you, and you quickly take it, kissing it softly and pressing her palm against your cheek.

"Good morning." She says, her voice raspy from lack of use.

"Hi." You reply, leaning forward and kissing her lips gently. Jenna's lips are cold and dry, a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand in yours. You try not to think about how much pain she's in.

"What are you doing sitting on the floor?" She asks you, her eyes searching yours for an answer. You smile softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I wanted to be closer to you." Jenna's eyes soften, and a small, grateful smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

But it soon fades away, replaced by a look of sadness. "You should get some sleep," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I know you've been up for hours."

You feel a lump form in your throat, knowing that she's trying to protect you even in her own pain. "I can't." You admit.

"I'm okay." She mutters, but you know she isn't. She can barely move her left arm. Her breathing is labored, and she's so pale, it's like she's lost all her color.

"You're not okay."

"No." She agrees, looking down at her hands. "But I will be. Please, Y/N, get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up." You finally relent, knowing that she's right. You lean in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead before climbing into the bed next to her.

"I'm scared." She admits it quietly.

"I am too." You tell her, pulling her close. "I promise I'll be here for you every step of the way," you whisper, feeling her body relax against yours. "We'll get through this together."

With those words, she closes her eyes, finding tranquility in your presence as you both drift off to sleep, holding onto each other tightly.

Your dreams have been the same for a few days, almost as if you were reliving your life with Jenna. The memories are always happy, and they help distract you from the reality of the situation.

You dream about the day you met her. It was on the late afternoon on a beach in Los Angeles, with the waves going back and the sun rising and falling. You were just wandering along the shore, looking at the scenery and the people.

She was sitting on a large rock, looking out over the ocean, her feet in the water, and the sand beneath her. You remember seeing her from a distance and being immediately drawn to her.

So, you walked towards her, not knowing what you were going to say, or what you were even going to do. "Can I help you?" She asked, turning her head and giving you a smile.

You felt a rush of nerves as you approached her; she was gorgeous, and her smile was captivating.

That wasn't the only day you spent together. Every weekend, you would meet on that beach. Sometimes, you would go out for dinner, and sometimes you would just spend the whole day together.

But now, it was hard for Jenna to leave the apartment, let alone walk on the beach.

You had been dating for three years, and now she was in your apartment, her illness was getting worse, and your money was running low. You were struggling to balance taking care of her and working long hours to pay for her medical bills.

Another week had passed. Jenna had gotten worse, the chemotherapy was taking a toll on her body, and the medical bills were piling up faster than you could keep up with.

You were barely making enough to cover her medication and hospital costs, and the stress was beginning to affect you. You had been working nonstop, barely getting any sleep, and you were starting to feel run down.

You were losing hope. The deadline was only a month away, and you had no idea how you would manage to come up with the money. You had tried everything, but nothing seemed to be working.

Jenna was fading away right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She was the love of your life—the one person who made you feel alive. She had been the only person to truly understand you, and the thought of losing her was like a dagger in your heart.

You were sitting in your garage , surrounded by all the tools and equipment you had collected over the years. Your eyes fell on an orange plastic gun sitting on a workbench, gathering dust. It was a toy gun that Jenna had given you as a joke, but now it could be the key to your plan.

You picked it up along with a can of black spray paint, determined to do whatever it took to save Jenna. You carefully painted the gun, and once it dried, you tucked it into your waistband.

Jenna's last words before she was admitted to the hospital echoed in your mind.

I don't want to die.

It was a cold, rainy night. You were dressed in all black, the orange toy gun was tucked into the pocket of your hoodie, and your motorcycle helmet was securely fastened under your arm. Your hands were shaking as you gripped the gun. You were nervous, and you knew the consequences of what you were about to do.

But you couldn't let fear stop you. Jenna's life was on the line, and you were willing to do whatever it took to save her, even if it meant risking everything. With a deep breath, you stepped toward the bank teller, sliding her a note demanding the money and making it clear that you were armed.

The teller looked at you in shock but quickly complied with your demands, giving you the money. You quickly stuffed it into a bag, keeping the plastic gun hidden in your pocket as you quickly walked toward the back exit where your bike was parked.

Suddenly, an alarm rang out , causing panic to erupt in the bank. The security guard sprang into action, blocking your path to the exit. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you shoved him into a nearby table and made a run for it, jumping onto your bike and speeding away as police sirens wailed behind you, knowing that you had to escape quickly before they caught up to you.

You weaved through traffic, trying your hardest to escape from the multiple police cars chasing after you, their sirens blaring. It was a dark and stormy night, and you were driving through the streets of the city, the rain pouring down heavily. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Abruptly, a car pulled out in front of you, causing you to slam on the brakes. You looked around and realized you were surrounded by police cars with no way out. The officers approached with their guns drawn, ordering you to put your hands in the air.

Your hands stayed on the handles, the gun pressed against your leg, and a lump formed in your throat. There was no way out. You were trapped, and there was no way you would escape.

A shot rang out, causing you to flinch and close your eyes in fear. When you opened your eyes, there was blood seeping through your hoodie, and you felt a sharp pain in your side. You never really understood the meaning of flight or fight until that moment, but now it was clear - you had to fight for your life.

Your survival instincts kicked in, and you made a split-second decision to make a run for it, ignoring the pain and speeding past the officers. The sound of gunfire echoed in your ears as you accelerated towards the familiar streets you had taken nearly hundreds of times.

Your bike sputtered to a stop as you reached your destination, sirens getting closer and closer. You stumbled off the bike and ran through the hallways of the distinct building, clutching your bleeding side and pushing past startled onlookers.

You could see Jenna's room number at the end of the hallway, and you knew you had to reach her before it was too late. You burst into the room, and relief flooded your body when you saw her sleeping peacefully.

"Y/N?" She whispered, slowly opening her eyes. Her voice was weaker than ever, and her skin was pale.

You rushed to her side, tears streaming down your face as you laid your head on her shoulder. "I'm here, Jenna," you choked out, holding her hand tightly. "I love you."

Jenna weakly squeezed your hand, her head slowly turning to the doorway where the police stood, waiting to take you away. "I love you too," she said softly, her eyes filled with tears.

[gay-dorito-dust]

🐧

This is going to be really off from how bonding works lol.

But imagine that Aemon rants to Vaghar about reader having claim Cannibal to the Point that Vaghar gets curious over you (HC That Vaghar and Cannibal might have a big hate to friends relationship lol). So on one of these days when Vaghar its free to do as she pleaces she decides to look for the reader who is like "why the fuck does big old dragons keep coming to me" but reader is actually sweet to her and basically respects her a lot. Probably tells her how of a brave girl she is and how unfair too to fight human wars.

And Vaghar is like "oh if you knewww" and starts to like reader more than her own rider.

Cannibal IS getting jealous over this. Reader is his 😤!!

But one random day Aemon has the fantastic idea of try and persuade reader to marry him and he is being lowkey creepy and pushy. And what happens ? Not one, TWO BIG DRAGONS APPEARS.

Yes baby!! Canninal is sooo angry he may as well burn him alive but seeing the suprise and offended look Aemon gives to Vaghar as she protects reader its a nice suprise too.

And Vaghar its on mother mode. 😤💞!! She is lowley ashame over her own rider and will roar to him to stay away, then when reader and Cannibal leave together Vaghar wil ignore Aemons command and fly off with them too.

No because I love the ideas that reader is just so likeable that dragons just finds themselves attracted to them.

Besides I’m pretty sure Aemond and Vhagar don’t have a strong a bond as like daemon and Caraxes for example, so I wouldn’t be surprised if vhagar finds reader to be the better choice and wishes that reader was her rider, and not some wish version of Visenya.

Aemond: they should be mine, we ride the biggest dragons of Westeros, why can’t they see that we’re meant to be!

Grandma Vhagar: *sick and tired of hearing Aemond whine about you and just flies off to seek you out herself*

You would be with cannibal just chilling and all of a sudden an Aemond-less Vhagar just lands in front of you and stares you down as Cannibal growls at her in warning of what he’d do to her if she came here to harm you. He doesn’t fuck with you and neither should anyone else, not Vhagar, Craxes, hell not even Balerion or Meraxes if they were still alive would fuck with you with Cannibal to protect you.

But you just casually go up to Vhagar and start petting her snout and saying; oh Vhagar, you’re forced by the hands of man to do their bidding once again. You poor girl who just wants to be left alone in peace and yet they don’t respect that.

Vhagar is pretty much purring now as she closes her eyes, allowing your sweet words of praise to comfort her old and decrepit body into a state of rest; cannibal, you have chosen a true diamond of a rider with this little one.

Cannibal staring her down, still a little on edge but resonating how she feels about the selfishness of the Targaryen dynasty: I know and I shall treasure them as one until I die. But be reminded Vhagar that they are MY rider, not yours. You should’ve remained riderless if you wished to have them but it’s far too late, I’ve came for them and now they’re mine until death do us part.

Vhagar: I know that, dear Cannibal, but that does not mean you shall keep me from them for I shall always be watching over them when you can not.

Cannibal growls at this but doesn’t do anything outside of that because he doesn’t like you scolding him.

So when Aemond finds out where Vhagar goes when he’s busy, he will be ten times worse then before because if you claimed cannibal and also have Vhagar taking a liking to you, then this must mean that you are destined to marry him regardless! He would hunt you down himself and corner you somewhere remote as he looks at you with a weird and possessive look in his eye, as he then proceeds to spout nonsense about how you and him were two halves of the same soul and how you were truly a blessing for two of the largest dragons in history to come for your presence.

His dragon deity he’d probably call you because when has two dragons ever flew in search of someone before? It had always been people claiming them but never the dragons searching for their one true rider. You were truly a specimen for history to recount decades from now as historians ponder whether you were something else all together.

Could you imagine the future Targaryens reading about you in history books? The one whom summons dragons? Dragon priest/priestess? Whatever other titles they might give you in the future long after you’re gone.

So Aemond is obviously coming on too strong for your liking and all of a sudden, he’s eclipsed by not one but TWO behemoth shadows belonging to Cannibal and Vhagar, they have heard enough from Aemond and didn’t like the unease and fear that they felt coming from you as the one eyed prince kept hounding you with his advances for marriage. Once was fine but this was too much and they didn’t want Aemond to do you any harm just for saying no.

(Whether your are already betrothed to Cregan or Benjicot or Jace, or Addam Velaryon I’ll let you decide that)

Your hand is/is not taken as of yet and they will not allow Aemond to sully that because of his delusions and conceptions.

Aemond is shocked and upset to see that Vhagar was blocking him from you as you quickly mounted Cannibal, who was looking at him as though he were his soon to be dinner, and whispers; ‘Vhagar, why?’

Vhagar only roars at him and growling every time he tried to step closer to her, upset herself that her supposed rider was a weird man with an obsession for things he couldn’t have. She waits for when you and Cannibal to take off to the skies before following behind as a safety precaution, blatantly disregarding Aemond’s cries as they become nothing the further she goes, forcing him to realise that their control over dragons was merely a farce.

[sevsarm]

a/n: I don’t remember where I got this template from so if it is yours please comment and I will 100% give credit!!

NSFW Alphabet w/ Sevika

A = Aftercare (what they are like after sex)

This would entirely depend on your relationship with Sevika. If you're in a committed relationship she will clean you up and immediately initiate cuddling, typically you being the little spoon or her laying on your chest. If the two of you are just FWB or it's just a one night stand she will still help you clean up but will expect you to leave after.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of their partner and themselves)

Honestly Sevika loves your thighs, she would die happy between them. On herself though she would probably say her mechanical arm.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Sevika loves to have her face rode and with that being said i very much think she would love to drown in her partners juices. 

D = Dirty Secret

She would only admit this to a partner she's been with for a while but she really enjoys sucking off her partners strap. She also very much likes to be tied up

E = Experience

She’s a regular at a brothel, come on now, our girl fucks. She's very experienced. Though she is more experienced at topping rather than bottoming. She thinks (for herself) that bottoming is a very vulnerable position and will only bottom when she gets comfortable with you. So, yes she is experienced but she also will need guided in some things

F = Favorite Position

She LOVES when you sit on her face and ride it. She also loves doggy style when shes using her strap

G = Goofy (do they joke around or are they serious)

Majority of the time sex is a very serious thing for her. If you've been in a relationship with her for a while she will randomly crack jokes in bed or laugh when you do.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they)

She does not give a single fuck. When she was younger she would trim but now she doesn't care

I = Intimacy (are they romantic)

Sevika can be romantic if you are her partner, if not, it's just a means to an end

J = Jack Off (do they masturbate)

Sevika doesn't really have a problem finding someone to satisfy her needs if she is single. If shes in a relationship she’ll just ask you

K = Kink (do they have any, if so what)

Sevika has a list of kinks. A few of her main ones are: breeding, bdsm, sadism, rigging, primal play, and breath play

L = Location

Sevika is simple. She likes anything within the comfort of a closed off room

M = Motivation

If you wear any of her clothes, that is her biggest motivation

N = No

Sevika respects you, she will never do anything to actually harm you or that you don't want

O = Oral (do they prefer receiving or giving)

Sevika LOVES giving but she will never turn down you wanting to do it to her

P = Pace (are they fast or slow, rough or sensual)

Sevika is good at reading the room, though she does prefer fast and rough she would NEVER turn down the opportunity to go slow and sensual with you

Q = Quickie

Sevika is a whore for a quickie. She loves them. She’s constantly asking for them

R = Risk (are they willing to experiment)

Sevika will try whatever you bring up as long as it doesn't affect her job

S = Stamina (how long can they go for)

Depending on how draining her day at work was or if she had shimmer that day you could get one round or four

T = Toys (do they own any, do they use them)

Sevika has a large collection. She prides herself on it. She has used a few on herself but she prefers to use them on you or have you use them on her

U = Unfair (do they tease)

This woman is the biggest tease, she will constantly have you begging for her to just touch you already

V = Volume (how loud are they)

Sevika is a growler and grunter, but if you can make her cum more than once she will start to get whiny and soft moans will escape

W = Wild Card (random headcanon)

Sevika likes to just rest her hand in your pants and like cup your pussy,  like it's not even sexual for her and  she won't even be trying to tease, she just wants to warm her hand and be close to you and she finds it very comforting

X = X-Ray (what's going on under the clothes)

Sevika, as we know, is rather fit. Her chest size is somewhere around a B-C cup

Y = Yearning (how high is their drive)

Sevika is constantly asking for sex

Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep)

Sevika is pretty good at staying up until you fall asleep but sometimes she is just exhausted and literally just passes out but not before giving you a goodnight kiss

[rubra-wav]

Taking care of the main cast while they're sick

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, platonic, very briefly suggestive in Angel's, in the order of who gets sick first - last

<< [ Part 1 ]

Charlie

- She's truly a wet cat when she gets sick.

- Will not stop crying and being emotional the whole time. She hates not being able to sing or go out and about.

- Is even more emotional when you volunteer to take care of her as you're no longer as likely to get sick again.

- She's so happy she's not gonna be all alone.

- She hates being locked away in her room and not being able to participate in group activities.

- Insists they still go on without her like she's about to die from not being able to be there with them.

- Charlie spends the whole time wrapped up in a blanket in bed and watching kids' movies. I hope you like Disney movies, because she won't put on anything else.

- Says they make her 'heart' feel not sickly like she is.

- You will be cuddling her because if not, she won't stop sobbing. Vaggie is keeping her distance from her because she doesn't want to get sick too.

- I hope you're also ready to get your ear talked off by a very passionate dreamer who's been under house lock for a week because oh boy.

- For the last few days, she's gonna be trying to leave her room or convince you to let her leave. She's going antsy and stir-crazy by the end of it.

- She's extremely clingy to you as you're essentially her caretaker for the week she's sick.

- Eventually Vaggie caves in to ger girlfriend, and takes over for you anyways. Then Vaggie catches it. 💀

- Apologetic afterwards to you.

Vaggie

- She's disappointed but not really surprised.

-Probably the best and most composed of all of them when she gets sick.

- She doesn't too much like being seen sick as it makes her feel vulnerable, but when you assure her you don't think any less of her she's a lot less stiff about you being there.

- She will just chill in her room the whole time, probably reading or writing notes to remind her to do stuff when she gets out.

- The whole time she just sighs, sounding extra irritated and absolutely done with life.

- She needs to sit in darkness most of the time because she keeps getting migraines.

- Will absolutely insist she can look after herself and that she doesn't need someone near her at all times like Charlie.

- Will accept you bringing her food, helping with her duties guarding, and bringing her reports about what's gone on around the hotel.

- Really appreciates the reports actually.

- By the end of it she's considering bringing you on to possibly permanently help her out because you absolutely would be helpful.

- Most of her socialisation energy is taken up by Charlie, so she's very likely just gonna wanna be left on her own through most of it.

Niffty

- Despite being told not to, Niffty goes into the room's of those who are sick to clean, and that's how she gets sick.

- An absolute fucking nightmare to look after. It's not just you, it's also Vaggie who needs to keep her at bay.

- She doesn't understand 'rest' and 'quarantine', those do not exist.

- There will have to be a 24/7 watch on her to keep her in her room because my God, she does not sleep and stays just as insane but becomes delirous.

- Will be there barely able to stand and still cleaning.

- You will literally have to pick her up and carry her kicking back to her room.

- The only way to get her to go sleep is to get her a tranquiliser.

- There's a greatly annoying back and forth between Alastor, you and Vaggie as Alastor has the tranquilliser she usually has but just refuses.

- Thank christ when Angel just goes 'fuck this' and gets another type like it to knock her out.

- After that it's better. Niffty becomes extremely clingy to you or Vaggie while she's sedated. Vaggie walks out after the solution is found, leaving you to take care of her on your own.

- So you just cuddle her while doing whatever you have brought to do in her room.

- Afterwards she's probably gonna be clinging to you extra. She's imprinted on you during this period low-key

- It's exhausting, and you don't succeed in stopping her from spreading germs (which is ironic considering she's supposedly the clean one)

- Pentious, Husk and Angel all get sick in quick succession after Niffty.

Pentious

- His 1800's ass is gonna be so dramatic.

- Not overdramatic, because he's scared for obvious and understandable reasons.

- But still dramatic.

- He's gonna be needing reassurance every three seconds on this, and even then, he's gonna be all weepy.

- Straight up thinks he's gonna die.

- "Bring me out to the garden one last time" type attitude.

- When it becomes clear he's not going to die in approximately 10 seconds, he calms down a bit, but he's still super anxious.

- Will absolutely want to cuddle you (along with his egg boys) while he's still super delirious.

- You gotta like tight hugs because when I say cuddle, I mean he will be full-body wrapping around you with his tail around your legs and arms around your shoulders.

- Denies it happening outright after his temperature comes down, though, and is super embarrassed.

- Cheers up at about the 4 day mark.

- Stays in his room with you and probably just discusses and brainstorms ideas for different kinds of weapons and machines.

- Tbh, after he's not contagious anymore and can leave again, he's probably gonna be jealous that you're no longer giving him as much attention as you were.

Angel

- Oh, he's so mad about it.

- He dodged getting sick off of you, Charlie and Vaggie only to get sick because Niffty refused to stay down.

- The whole time he's also really anxious because he's scared Val is gonna order him to come in while he's unwell and force him to still into the studio to do some weird sickness kink type shit.

- Luckily, Val doesn't reach out at all in the time he's sick.

- Him, Husk and you kinda just chill out together doing stuff like watching movies and talking shit.

- Vaggie orders them to stick together to avoid the chance of infecting anyone a second time, and the whole time you're near them, you need to wear a mask.

- Angel is not a clingy sick person. In fact, he doesn't wanna be cuddled at all (at least in the first few days)

- Doesn't like you seeing him sick because he thinks it's super gross.

- He's getting too hot and then too cold every 3 seconds and is super annoyed over it. Just keeps angrily putting on layers and then taking them off again.

- He doesn't like getting cuddled, but he does like you taking care of him and asking if he needs anything, and you reassuring him he'll get better soon.

- He so rarely gets taken care of in that way, so he absolutely eats it up.

- Probably takes to sarcastically calling you parental nicknames when you tell him he has to take meds/eat/drink whatever.

- He starts going absolutely stir crazy by the end of it as well, he hates being cooped up.

- Very appreciative when he's finally able to gtfo and do stuff again.

Husk

- He's by far the most pissed off about getting sick (that you're aware of at least)

- He kept trying to tell Niffty to go away and go to bed, but she just kept clinging to him.

- The whole time he's unwell, he has to suffer through Alastor laughing at him, which all makes it so much worse.

- Alastor just periodically shows up to bully him, and you need to call Vaggie to kick him out for you.

- Husk does not like you trying to take care of him, and will promptly tell you to fuck off with no hesitation if you start trying to caretake him outside of getting him food and stuff.

- He's also not happy because when he's really delirious, he is actually extremely affectionate.

- The whole time he's running a fever and especially sick, he will be trying to cling to anything around but especially you.

- Does the type of thing during that period that animals do when you stop petting them and they just. Start whining and looking at you pleadingly for more attention.

- He's horrendously embarrassed about it.

- He relaxes a bit when you promise him not to ever bring it up again, but he's still extremely grumpy.

- Especially because he lowkey blames you as you're the root of the sickness, even though you did everything right with isolating and trying to make sure nobody else caught what you had.

- His appreciation is fairly low in comparison to the others.

Alastor

- Sick? Take care of him?

- HA. Funny joke.

- He doesn't get sick.

- At least, that's what he says and is absolutely fucking horrified and furious when he actually does end up unwell.

- He tries to hide it behind him being 'busy' in his radio tower and 'to leave him alone to his devices'

- Will never ever admit he's sick, let alone allow you to truly take care of him. Even the thought fills him with such disgust that his smile almost wavers.

- You don't see or hear from him the whole time, but you can tell he's sick. Some kind of intuition.

- You just bring him stuff to eat, drink and take and leave it outside the door - hauling ass tf away as you knock on the door.

- He still knows you know and are bringing him stuff, and it pisses him off massively.

- He doesn't ever bring it up though afterwards, and if you do? You're gonna suffer ngl.

-

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