#sorry this is a very unimportant point
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frankiebirds · 8 months ago
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I see Reid not remembering Garcia's name in this flashback cited as a plot hole a lot, but it makes perfect sense to me. Reid specifically recalls everything he's seen/read, not everything he hears, and as Garcia is brand new to the team here, it's entirely plausible he's only ever heard her name. The fact that he doesn't have perfect recall of auditory information is even a bit of a plot point in 1x22, where he initially struggles to recall the Parliament of Fowls because it's only ever been read to him.
I think there is some inconsistency on how good Reid's auditory memory is, but usually when I see this moment cited as a plot hole it's because Reid has an eidetic memory—which is visual.
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turtleblogatlast · 11 months ago
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Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#plot twist he COULD be admitting angsty stuff but he’s pushing the less oof truths forward instead on purpose#raph: hey leo what do you want for dinner#leo: *about to bare his soul on all his internal torment but pivots* I’m afraid of snakes#(no but fr Leo’s stripes being technically more pink instead of red is cute ngl)#(a very reddish pink to the point that in certain lighting it looks red but at the base they’re p pink)#(i also am very fond of the idea that Leo doesn’t just have questionable taste in fashion he also just loves Raph a lot and looks up to him)#but yeah I think that something like this would be 99% Leo admitting to unimportant things or admitting to how much he values everyone#like they all KNOW Leo loves them and he’s talked them up enough for them to know but it’s different when he’s like#‘I just wanna read my comics with you guys around - it’s my favorite place to be’#or again just random bs that doesn’t REALLY have a lot of weight like#‘I like using my portals to prank random people around the world’#‘I’m worried about being a bad influence on hueso jr’#‘sometimes I kinda wanna see hypno’s plans succeed’#‘it’s been way too long since I found this out and honestly it’s embarrassing but I actually don’t have a di-‘#SORRY COULDNT HELP MYSELF#(<-but did u know that that pink rather than red observation actually ties into this headcanon as well if u know about red eared sliders)
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sanguinaryrot · 1 year ago
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by the way. im making a lego set but i had to pause to say. Clarice failed in its basic fucking thesis statement. you can tell the creators wanted to uplift minority voices; opposing sexism racism and transphobia are some of the basic themes of the show and we saw them explicitly say shit like we want to address problems like transphobia in the original movie. but we saw them take a minor cishet white male character whose one characteristic was that he was a sexist and they elevated him to a charismatic hero. like. do you fucking hear yourselves. I don’t have a problem with cishet white male characters in general but when you see a perfectly good secondary antagonist already established in the text and decide actually “he’s one of the good ones don’t worry about it” it really fucking shatters any illusion that you give a shit.
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rationaliity · 9 months ago
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progression | aventurine blurb
loving aventurine was as easy as breathing to you, something incredibly hard for him to grasp. he didn't get it at all. when he first walked into your life, he had this arrogant mask up, another one of his well preserved fabrications to protect himself. he was snarky to you. not necessarily rude, but he wasn't afraid to bare his fangs and show you that he was capable of hurting you if he needed to. he wasn't afraid of hurting anyone. another gamble he was putting his faith in, that he wouldn't be put in a situation where he would have to hurt you.
you loved him during that stage. every sarcastic 'friend' he tacked on to every sentence like it was more of an insult than anything else, every boundary that he crossed of yours, every little lie he spun to keep you at arms length, trying to protect you from his teeth. words hurt less than his bite. and yet, you were there for him even when he was sure he would have pushed you away, and it unnerved him.
" aventurine ~ " you called out from behind him to get his attention, before lightly jogging up to him, standing by his side. not in front of him, but beside him. " i know you might be busy today with business as usual, but i was hoping that you were free this afternoon ? there's this new coffee shop that opened up, and i though- "
" coffee ? sorry to disappoint you, friend, but i am busy this afternoon, " he shook his head, as if dismissing the idea outright entirely.
" oh, that's okay ! i'm still able to say hi right now while we're walking, so that's enough, " you chirped, but he could hear the unmistakable sound of disappointment and sadness in your tone, making the guilt inside of him at being the one who caused your unhappiness eat him alive. but the look on his face didn't change, his walls too big to penetrate.
he did find you at that coffee shop, though. " oh, hello, friend- " he had called out, approaching your table, sitting next to you without even asking. he saw your eyes light up, and for a second he felt the warmth in his chest burst forward, his heart beating against his ribcage. " what good fortune that i was able to finish my tasks a little while ago. i didn't think you would actually come here alone. " there was a hint of confusion in his voice, but it was masked just as quickly as it came.
after this interaction, aventurine got a little awkward with you. what was he expected to say ? what did he do if he wasn't trying to push you away ? he was clumsy with his words, often just silently nodding along as you talked, and sometimes bringing up tiny points. he wasn't good at conversation when it wasn't to serve an agenda. being in survival mode his entire life, he had no idea how to be social, much less to someone as kind as you.
no matter how much he stumbled and fell over his own words, you treated him the same. he approached you cautiously, as if he was afraid that one day you would get sick of him and throw him out of your life permanently. was his personality too much for you to handle ? was he doing something wrong ? he wasn't sure, this was uncharted territory for him. all he could do was throw his dice and hope for the best outcome, something that was so comforting now unnerving. he could bet every single one of his chips, every possession he owned, including his own life, but you ? betting on you felt like one risk he wasn't willing to take.
" hey- i was at this shop a while ago, and i was hoping that you'd want to visit ? with me, of course, " aventurine asked, trying very hard not to look how pretty you looked right now, how your smile made his heart flutter every single time without fail. " i saw something i thought you might like. i wanted to get it for you but i don't know your size. "
" oh ? yeah, i'd love to go with you ! " you agreed immediately, as if everything that you were doing before this was suddenly unimportant. " but you really don't have to pay for me, honestly. i can take care of myself. "
this through him for a loop, and he hid it well, but aventurine had no idea what that meant. did you not want him to pay for you ? or were you just trying to be modest ? it wasn't like he was hungry for money, it was fine on his pockets, and he didn't mind spending if it meant spending on you, of course. besides, what did you want from accompanying him if it wasn't to buy things ? that's what friends were for, right ? it was a mutual beneficial agreement between two people to be friendly with each other to gain something from another, right ?
he was pretty sure that was how it was to be friends, but you challenged all of that. especially when you bought him a drink from a shop. he'd just mentioned it offhanded that he could go for some boba tea, and you had agreed, saying that it would be really good right now. and then you bought him his ? that's not how that was supposed to work, he was sure of it. why would you go out of your way to pay for something for him that you yourself wouldn't even get to enjoy ? he was willing to buy you things to keep you around him, but you didn't need to buy him anything to keep him around.
the possibility that you didn't want anything from him other than his time and himself was confusion, but refreshing.
eventually late night outs became late nights inside, and aventurine found himself in a precarious position, on your couch, your body on the other side, cuddling up against a pillow. the intimacy of the situation felt like it was choking him. and he finally got the courage to ask you the question that plagued him - why ? why did you care ? why did you try so hard ? what was in it for you ? putting your bets on him was a foolish decision that he couldn't rationalize. even he didn't bet on himself.
" because you're worth it, " you shrugged a little, the answer's simplicity wiping everything from him. all of his fears, his confusion, his doubts, just for this moment. right now, he understood. you never pushed him out of his comfort zone, and let your companionship evolve naturally. he didn't even realize he had let you inside of his shell before it was too late. " because you deserve it. "
he thought you were worth it, too. trusting you, putting his faith in you even though you had the ability to hurt him. it was worth it. you were worth it.
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sharonccrter · 9 months ago
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I saw this really interesting video, which talked about my two biggest gripes with challengers' discourse. Which are that everyone keeps saying Art is the heart of this movie, and secondly, the insistence that Patrick doesn't love Tashi, only Art. The creator pushes back against these two narratives, and I wholeheartedly agree. Patrick is arguably the heart of this movie.
Two of the most important scenes in the movie are the churro scene and the scene between p/t out in the storm, and they both centre around Patrick.
The entire movie is about passion and purpose in life, and Patrick is the passion.
I mean, a lot of people assume Patrick didn't really have feelings for Tashi, but the only person who says that is Art. Who is vying for Tashi and is his biggest competitor. The reason I empathise with Patrick is that he is genuine and loving to Art; he does love him. However, we are shown no evidence to suggest that Patrick is this shitty boyfriend, apart from what Art says when he's trying to get into Tashi's head because his jealous. We find out that they're talking every week while he's on tour (normal relationship shit). It's Art who insinuates that Patrick is cheating while on tour. The only person in this movie who says Patrick doesn't love Tashi is Art, and it's obviously very intentional.
I think the reason both Tashi and Art push Patrick out of their lives is because he forces them to comfort parts of themselves they are not yet comfortable with. I mean, it's obvious why Tashi would react that way to Patrick; she's just lost the most important thing in her life. However, I think it's tragic from Patrick's point of view as well. I mean, what did Patrick really do? He got into a fight with his girlfriend because she hurt his feelings.
And no, he's hurt was not about Art. The fight made him feel unimportant, which made him feel like she didn't actually care about him. And that's where Art comes in, because who was going around telling Patrick Tashi didn't give a shit? You bet ya. Art. Art absolutely got into his head. And even if he clocked it, in that moment, he still allowed it to get to him because he was emotional and upset. And because he was too hurt to support her, he was thrown out of Tashi and Art's lives.
And here's the thing, Patrick never saw Tashi as an idea. He saw her as a real person, unlike Art kinda did. Patrick wasn't going to let Tashi treat him like shit just because she was special. And, tbh, if Tashi hadn't gotten injured, I think it's something she would have eventually been grateful for. But instead, she got hurt; she pushed Patrick away, and Art slid into his place, telling her that she could be his entire world and the star. That's not healthy, and sorry to stay a little manipulative.
And let's talk about Art. Patrick and him were literally fire and ice. They always had this underlying desire. They were perfect opposites. Let's face it: Art could never replicate what he had on the court (and off) with anyone else. But instead of confronting his feelings, he took the first chance he had to get Patrick out of his life.
The girl I was watching said it perfectly, "Art and Tashi allowed themselves to find consolation prizes in each other and allowed them to run from parts of themselves they didn't want to comfort and in turn enable each other's worst habits."
Art tries to become a tennis superstar so Tashi can live through him, and Tashi gives him a family so he can finally be confident in who he is. But is there any passion? I don't know; I think at some point, it drained; nothing about what I saw on screen apart from their initial get-together screams passion.
Cue Patrick walking back into their life and showing them how they can feel. Art was always going to let Tashi live through him, but that was never going to be satisfying for her. Tashi needs to find a way to create an identity for herself, separate from him. And I believe it'll be the only way she'll live a satisfying life. That's why they need Patrick: to make them realise that and to help them rediscover their passion.
I think people think that Art is the heart because Patrick admits to being a piece of shit. But the truth is, they're all dicks; Patrick was just the only one who was willing to admit it.
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weepingchronicles · 1 month ago
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This may sound bland but can you do Jinx with a darling who has just been recaptured after they escaped a second time tyy
a/n: not bland at all! thank you for waiting and requesting this!
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cw: mental breakdown mentions, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?), killing mentions, manipulation, yandere behavior, EXTREMELY unhealthy relationship guys, physical violence
❝yandere!jinx x gn!reader getting recaptured❞
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🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 It doesn't take very long for Jinx to catch you, even if you are thinking you're safe she is simply lurking, watching you until she decides it is time to take you back.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Her initial reaction when you escape is not very good. Full psychotic breakdown is what I'm saying. She will start hearing and seeing things, it's best to be slow and quiet to not risk getting accidentally shot.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She might even accidentally kidnap others who she mistakes for being you, simply killing them off after she realizes.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You're all her mind can think about, any other matter or responsibility she has right now is unimportant in her mind. Not that she thinks they were important anyway.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once she finally finds you she wants to just knock you out and take you back where you belong but she stops herself. Like a feline, she lurks and watches you. Baiting her time to sink her claws into you. How did you manage to escape and what have you been doing since then? Who helped you?
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 If you got help from others or god forbid, start laughing and being all buddy buddy with someone they are gone. Gone, dead, bam. One reason is the impulsivity and her damn possessiveness. It is what makes her pull the trigger to anyone who stands too close to you. Another is to teach you a lesson, a valuable lesson that no matter what you can't escape her. She'll find you in the end and will kill anyone who knew about it.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 A sadistic part of her gleams as you cry all pathetically, it almost makes her angry that you're crying about a bunch of losers who you barely even knew. You should be reaching out to her, crying for her.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drags you home anyway, mumbling out a bunch of threats and battling the voices in her own head. If you want to survive without any bullets penetrating your body, it's best to keep quiet and listen.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Getting home isn't any better, the whole place is a mess. More than it was before. It's clear she lost her marbles when you left, from furniture thrown and bullet dents in the walls.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She'll toss you around, screaming at you for leaving her, pointing her gun just a little too close. She's erratic and there is no stopping her.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You flinch, ducking your head and shielding your head in a futile attempt of protection. You were scared of her. How could you not be? Jinx takes a pause, looking down at her gun in her trembling hand before throwing it over her shoulder completely.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drops to her knees, wailing in tandem with you, perhaps even louder. Jinx clings onto you, grasping at your limbs and clothes like you're deprived oxygen.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I wouldn't ever hurt you. I'm sorry, please don't leave me!" A part of Powder comes out of her and her desperation eerily resembles a broken child inside. Some piece of you aches despite the pain she's caused you. It isn't entirely her fault she is born this way, what her trauma caused her to be.
🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You can't forgive her though, not after all that's been done but.. you can pretend. "Please don't leave me again," and you nod in response.
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artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram
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comicaurora · 2 years ago
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do you have any tips on writing soft magic systems? I only ever see them talked about when people are comparing it to hard magic systems or criticising it, which is a shame because I love systems where magic is just in the background being unimportant, with implied rules that will never be explained
god I wrote up like eight paragraphs of explanation and I was really working out some cool stuff there and then the app glitched and destroyed it all and I'm so upset
Unfortunately this reduces to a previous problem, which is "figure out how Tolkien did it and then do that."
Middle Earth is laden with magic. Hobbits being good at hiding is magic. There's a random throne in the ruins at the end of Fellowship that lets whoever sits in it see literally the entire world, and that's hella magic. Aragorn radiates One True King magic and occasionally heals people with a touch. Galadriel's mirror lets people see any point in time, past or future. Gandalf knows several spells, but most of the time he's doing less granular stuff by making lights or small fires or going all Servant Of The Secret Fire Wielder Of The Flame Of Anor etc etc. Elves are inherently so magical that the words of their language are never forgotten by anyone who hears them, the laws of physics don't apply to them, their havens are magically pleasant and beautiful, and the planet itself is magical for them - flat for the elves, round for everybody else.
The benefit of a soft magic system is that it produces a feeling in the characters and audience that the world is vast, wonderful and unknowable. It's at its best when it can answer why, but not how.
Why did the old empire of men have a throne that let you see the entire world? That makes sense! It's hugely tactically advantageous! HOW did they get the damn thing? No idea, doesn't matter, they clearly made it work somehow because the throne's right there. Why does Galadriel's mirror give you limited, randomized omniscience? Because while it's a useful tool if you can use it, seeing the future is a dicey and weird game, and the future can change if someone knows it's coming. HOW does riverwater in a birdbath do that? No idea.
Soft magic systems start running into difficulties when the writer needs to decide how it can or can't solve a given situation, which is a very common issue in storytelling, a format almost entirely centered on problems and solutions. For hard magic systems with clear parameters on what is and isn't possible, this is comparatively quite easy. The wizard can't magic this problem away because-
They're out of spell slots :(
They don't know a specific spell that can do that specific thing
There's another caster nearby stopping them
The object that lets them do magic isn't working
They need to speak words/do gestures/use materials to cast, and they can't for whatever reason
There's something "antimagic" around stopping them
Etc etc. The possibilities are easy to run through, because the "how" is clearly defined, and can be negated into a "how NOT." If magic uses spell slots, stop the characters using it by taking those slots away. If magic needs a material focus, break or destroy it. This prevents magic from feeling like an unsatisfying "a wizard did it" fix for all difficulties because the wizards can only do specific things under specific circumstances.
Soft magic systems can contrive answers to this too, but it can be a bit tricky to justify, and if it's Too Convenient it can feel like the magic system really just does what the writer needs it to do. When asked "why can't magic solve this problem?" soft magic systems can answer in several ways:
Too tired, sorry :( magic is Taxing and stuff so the caster can tip over whenever's convenient
They're in a Bad Vibes zone that's hindering their ability to cast because soft magic can be impeded by soft problems like "somebody was very mean here once"
That specific magic is tied to a specific location, like a magical elf forest, and doesn't work outside of it because it's intrinsic to the place and can't be replicated
There's another magical being around and their kung-fu is more powerful
These explanations work, but that's conditional on the story not making the audience think the magic SHOULD work in this situation, and this is entirely based on what's been established in the story thus far. If the wizard has been able to fly up until now, parking the gang at the bottom of the cliff and saying "sorry, fly machine broke" feels contrived. But if we've only ever seen other, intrinsically magical beings fly, the audience is unlikely to expect that the party's humble wizard will suddenly bust out a set of feathery wings as a gift from baby jesus himself. On the writing side, it's really a matter of feeling it out and making sure nothing feels too jarring - if the character who's previously displayed a certain specific space of abilities suddenly does something completely unrelated (like going from clairvoyance to slinging fireballs, or from a healing touch to earthbending) that feels inconsistent AND it teaches the audience that this soft magic system is softer than they realized, and can then make it much harder for the writer to then convince them that this caster CAN'T spontaneously manifest a power or gimmick that'll save them. But if the magical characters or objects operate within a specific space - one character that specializes in fire, one object that specializes in remote viewing, one artifact that lets its holder control the winds - then the audience will expect and accept things that fit in those broad, soft categories without speculating too much on the underlying "how" of their mechanics.
But the temptation to explain "how" is very strong for writers, and soft magic systems especially have trouble with this, because soft magic systems start calcifying into fragmentary hard systems when they're forced to explain "how". It locks in a hard-defined axiom that can be logically extrapolated. Because a soft system is not DESIGNED for that kind of internal logic, doing that will usually cause axiomatic collisions as they contradict one another. If a hard system is a crisp, geometric crystalline structure where any tangent line drawn through it will intersect cleanly with other lines in very predictable ways, adding "how"s to a soft magic system is like drawing tangent lines through a bowl of pudding - you're gonna get a lot of intersections in awkward places.
To pull an example out of absolutely nowhere, if a soft system without clear rules establishes something like "this spell can be used to summon an object towards the caster, but it DOES NOT WORK on living things", there are a number of questions that can become relevant:
Who made that spell to have those limitations?
Why can't WE make spells that DON'T have that limitation?
How is the spell defining "living things"? Would it work on a plant or a skeleton or a piercing in someone's body?
Why did you let this character use it on a living thing anyway, joanne?
In a lot of soft systems that try to lock in hard spell parameters, "who made these spells" and "why can't WE make spells" become the first and most obvious axiomatic clash. If magic can be created to do what the caster wants, why and how does that work, and why can't WE do it? This forces the writer to come up with an explanation to solve the clash without letting the protagonists make up whatever spells they want, therefore solving all plot problems forever - sometimes something like "the inventors of spells were intrinsically magical beings, like elves or dragons or whatever, and thus we ordinary scrub mortals can't make new ones." That's a functional explanation, but it reduces to a previous problem again - that this hard-ish magic system was created by someone with access to an unstructured soft system.
In a soft magic system, the only answer to the question "how does this magical thing work" is "because magic." If any other explanation is needed, things rapidly collapse into hard lines and axioms and covering for edge cases. How can elves run on powder snow, shoot targets in the dark and see for hundreds of miles? They're magical. Does that mean they can fly like a balrog or sling fire like gandalf or control weather like saruman maybe can? No, of course not, that's not their kind of magic and we have no reason to expect it from them. They're just magic. Magic means a lot of different things, and in a soft system the audience has to operate based on vibes rather than rules.
This can be difficult to balance. For instance, Star Wars has a soft system in The Force, and if you squint, every single movie and show uses it differently. It's not super disruptive to the audience's immersion because it's never framed like a Hard System with Hard Rules and it almost never pulls something out of COMPLETELY nowhere, but if you look at what it does from movie to movie and then show to show, it expands from "influence the wills of the weak-minded", "seeing the future a little bit" and "force choking" to "general telekinesis" and "limited telepathy" to "FUCKING LIGHTNING FROM THE HANDS MAN" which is a hell of a twist the first time you see it, to some even more buckwild stuff in the two different animated Clone Wars (like Mace Windu fighting an entire droid army Samurai Jack style and using the force to pull every bolt out of one of them at once, or the planet with the living incarnations of the Light and Dark Side) and the explanation never goes further than "The Force is magic, it's in everything, people who are good at The Force can use it to do a buncha stuff." It's not consistent, it doesn't have rules, but the audience accepts that Force users can just kind of do stuff that fits the Vibes of the stuff it's already been shown it can do. And as SOON as they tried to say "The Force is strong in people who have LOTS OF MIDICHLORIANS" everybody hated it, because it gave us a "how" answer to a question nobody wanted to ask and it made this pervasive, wonderous, soft magic system that Surrounds And Binds Us Luminous Beings Are We into "we are space wizards because we contain an above-average number of bugs."
As a chronic worldbuilder myself, I absolutely understand the impulse to explain and overexplain and lock in the Hows and the Whys, but as far as I can figure it, soft magic systems live and die on the writer's ability to restrain themselves from saying "how." The answer is "magic." The rest is just writing the story in such a way that "magic" doesn't become plot-breaking.
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sugudoe · 8 months ago
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saw ur headcanon itch and wanted to scratch it
headcanons for new boyfriend gojo, toji or nanami?! 💞
damn im kinda in luv with u for sending this so quick, or whatever…
so, for new boyfriend i’m guessing recent relationship, right? cause i like the way you’re thinking, so let’s go.
ps: i try to make things normal, but i always create a plot, i’m so sorry (i’m not).
GOJO, TOJI & NANAMI AS NEW BOYFRIENDS. ⋆.˚
✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: foul language / sexual innuendo on toji / reader has no gender.
✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
──── ✎ ° ⋆ GOJO SATORU, the helpless fool in love.
First of all, Gojo as a new boyfriend is a different person than Gojo as a boyfriend of many years, for the simplest reason of he does not not how to be a one. He knows how to be a friend or best friend, not to be biased by my own ships (stsg) but I don’t think Gojo is the type of guy to fall for a stranger — he needs connection, thrives of being know.
Your relationship with Gojo as best friends is quite normal, he acts as a child, you scold him for it, and one day out of the loop of normalcy, he catches himself eager for your judgmental stare and scoff. And you also notice how his mischievous smirks and absolute terrible pranks are always on you. You are the one to notice his crush, so you flirt back.
Enters the shocked Satoru, because canonically he gets no bitches, even if he is gets a lot of attention (from middle school girls) and has a cocky personality.
Your first date started terrible. I’m so sorry to be the breaker of such news, but as said before, Gojo doesn’t know how to be a boyfriend. He thinks that everything in life can be easily scripted, not noticing that you, as his best friend, doesn’t need to be impressed.
So, Satoru keeps telling you about his grande missions (forgetting you were there, fighting as good as him) or funny jokes (that you helped him make). He gets nervous when you kindly point it out, but you’re sweet with him, grabbing his hands and taking control of the talk, him following your lead. It kinda becomes a little something in your relationship, when Gojo gets lost, you light his way.
Soon, his nervousness goes away and you’ll be back to having your best friend, that now kisses you from time to time (all the time).
──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUSHIGURO TOJI, the one who finally wins a bet.
Toji is the type to use dating apps and swipe right for the girls that pose with nice cars, or in trips all over the world — he wants to have a girl with money so he can gamble more, he is not a good boyfriend material, sorry.
But you are no dating app type of girl (sometimes you slip, but that’s unimportant). You’re just a hitman, that Toji catches talking with Shiu, he tries to hit on you, and you hit him, with your fist! It’s a match!
He is pissed off but not as much as he is intrigued. You have money, he knows that, but don’t get him wrong, your right hook send this man into a spiral of thoughts, he is already begging for you.
You know of Toji, his name spreads like wildfire in your line of job, he is a murderer and a bit crazy doing his work and way of spending his earning, but his looks outstanding him a lot. So, you make a bet, he stop gambling for a year, and you give him a chance.
You knew this was never going to happen, an addicted don’t stop so quick, and you barely see the guy. You think you are not an effort to be made.
Shocking the whole population and making gamble games loose a comically large quantity of money (he really will me missed), Toji keeps his word and now he is coming to make you pay for yours — a date is set!
As a new boyfriend, Toji needs to be reminded he is in a relationship. Sorry to say it, but it takes him four months to delete his dating app, he wasn’t using it, but it never clicked in him to do that. Toji also very much dates at home for the sole purpose of not leaving the room, you have to threaten him lots and lots for the guy to remember restaurants exists.
He sucks at first, but he is good at what he does with you, so you keep letting him get away with his slack of boyfriend duties, until you give him an ultimatum.
Now, remember that one year Toji kept himself busy with work and no gambling? You can say he has a large amount saved, and to shut your pretty ass up, he is spending with you — he takes you to Korea, buys whatever you set your eyes on, restaurants every day and bed bagging on the wall every night.
He is an asshole, but he can do a pretty job when his lovely partner threatens him.
──── ✎ ° ⋆ NANAMI KENTO, the one who fumbled first.
Nanami Kento is like the prize of life. Not to make a man the center of yours, but you can’t say you are not winning when this hunk of a male specimen who treats women with respect beyond the minimum is yours.
Women, men, everyone is fighting for him. You remember very well the eyes burning you whenever he was talking with you, specially Gojo’s six, prior dating.
Nanami is the set in stone exemple of how to be a perfect guy. But let’s make one thing clear, he did not liked you at first. Not because sometimes you can be weird like Satoru, is because he terribly wanted you, but he hates the idea of dying and you as well — both sorceress.
Contrary to popular belief and shocking a whole nation, Nanami Kento fucks up pre dating, ladies and gentleman. He shows up one day at job saying he is going on a date with a baker from his favorite shop.
You slip a few tears before moving out of the room. He sees them, and he hates himself for it. You both were almost dating, that’s why it hurts.
That night, while crying and eating ice cream and watching “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days”, Nanami Kento knocks at your door, and soon as you open, he is kissing you. He never went to the date, he could never want anyone but you.
Your relationship, despite all of this, starts wonderfully. This man worships you, he makes sure you know how much he loves and care for you, there is no space for insecurities because he is filling everything with his love — you’re drowning in Nanami’s affection.
There is too many dates, too many flowers, too many trips. And this man does not work a lot, he hates to work, the clock hits his hour and he is out the door (curses get eliminated quickly). He is always coming home to you, no one can stop Nanami from falling into your arms.
As a punishment, he is forbidden from going to his favorite bakery — he doesn’t mind (he misses the onion bread so much).
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FUCK YOU, don't leave me
Part One: Paper Thin (Part Two, Part Three)
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Gally x Fem!Reader
You were the first female greenie to arrive in The Glade and your continued feud with Gally is legendary among your fellow Gladers. It’s about to dazzle them even further tonight because it’s bonfire night. Which means you’re both excessively drunk, hopping mad, standing right next to an enormous open flame and contemplating one question; is arson really that bad?
Genre: pure plot, the set up to enemies to lovers
Word Count: 2.7K  Read Time: 9.5 mins
Warnings & Info: strong language, brief mention of needles and flesh wounds, underage drinking, Your POV, Movie!Gally, the only Glader slang I use is “shank” because the rest sounds dumb to me (sorrryyyy), minimal Y/N use, you’re not the only girl I added several unimportant OC’s, Thomas is there but the plot of TMR doesn’t move forward
Author’s Note: I was originally going to write this whole fic in one part but then I got too excited and it got really long, so I broke it up. The other parts will be coming very shortly, let me know if you want to be tagged when I post them! This is the first fic I’ve ever posted so all constructive criticism is welcome! The Maze Runner community on Tumblr is amazing & I just wanted to throw my hat into that very talented ring; thx for reading! fun fact: Gally’s name appears 62 times in this fic :)
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I can’t fucking stand Gally. And everyone knows that. Everyone also knows that he can’t fucking stand me. If it weren’t for saint Alby’s most sacred rule, (“Never harm another Glader”), I would’ve split his lip with my knuckles a long time ago. 
It started with The Box, obviously. That clanging, rusted, menacing machinery that brings life-sustaining supplies and headache-inducing complications. Like me. 38 months in a row The Box brought up a flushed-faced, wide-eyed, scared-shitless teenage boy. Every month, like clockwork. Until lucky month number 39 when it sent my sorry ass up. The first girl. Since then, The Box alternates between male & female greenies each month. No one has any idea why those who control The Box suddenly decided to make The Glade co-ed. But Gally’s working theory is that it’s to destroy everything they built before me.
He has a well-deserved reputation for having the loudest mouth in The Glade and he wasted no time using it against me, starting on my very first day. The first memory I have of him is watching his tanned face contort with confusion and anger upon opening The Box’s gates and finding me at the bottom.
“Why’d they send a girl?” he’d barked, piercing through me with his gaze even though his question was directed at the several dozen boys standing around him, also peering down at me.
“We’ll just welcome her like any other greenie. Maybe they thought it was getting too rowdy in here with only boys,” Alby had responded calmly, parting the sea of boy’s shoulders as he strode up to Gally’s side. He stared down at me with a much kinder expression on his face.
“I’d like to get rowdy with her,” a boy interjected loudly, sending a cascade of wolf-whistles and whoops through the group around him. I was still lying on the cold metal ground of The Box, dazed and barely aware of what was being said. But at the sound of the whistling I’d instinctively covered my chest with my arms, blocking any sight of the skin exposed above my top. Gally sharply lifted his head to meet the boy’s eyes.
“Stop thinking with your dick, shank. She,” he pointed harshly at me, “is only going to cause trouble,” He turned to Alby and lowered his volume but not his scathing tone. “If you want to welcome her like any other greenie, be my guest. But you know that a change like this could ruin everything we’ve built. Don’t expect any sympathy from me when it does,” He strode off in a huff, grabbing the set of tools he’d abandoned in the grass and going back to his construction site on the other side of The Glade.
That was my first impression of him. At the time, I didn’t know my name, where I was or what was happening but I knew that Gally hated me. And since I didn’t know anything else, I decided that the first thing I would be sure of in this new place was that I hated him too.
It didn’t take long for our fellow Gladers to take notice of our feud and prepare accordingly. It became part of the tour for every new greenie that came up.
“That’s Gally,” Newt would say, pointing out his broad figure as he ordered his crew around with a pointed finger, “And that’s Y/N,” he’d continue, pivoting 180 degrees to the front door of the med hut, where I was helping a bloodied Slicer get inside.
“If you ever see them standing closer to each other than they are right now, run or grab the nearest weapon,” he’d finish with a devilish grin. The Builders and the Med-jacks had an open agreement to keep us away from each other at all times. Whenever a Builder got injured and Gally brought them to the med hut, I would be forcefully told to take my break in my hut. And whenever the med hut needed construction work, Gally would be told to do work elsewhere in The Glade until his crew finished.
Alby had declared bonfire nights to be the DMZ of The Glade pretty early on in our feud. Gally and I have a paper-thin agreement to not start shit, but tonight? Tonight that paper thin agreement goes up in smoke.
I’m sitting on a horrendously rotten log surrounded by the few friends I have that put up with my constant outbursts towards an otherwise pretty popular member of The Glade. Elsie, (the 2nd girl to arrive in The Glade & by default my closest friend), passes me the dusty glass bottle full of Gally’s elixir and I take a hearty swig, my vision already blurry from the first round of passing. The only thing I can respect about Gally is that his concoction gets you fucked up, fast. With all the horrors we all have to deal with at such a young age, (running a functioning town, trying to find a way out of the Maze, hiding from Grievers, trying not to get stung & coming to terms with the fact that we might never know who we are or where we came from), it’s good to have a reliable way to get drunk.
Chuck is babbling a retelling of Minho’s latest run in my ear excitedly when he suddenly comes into focus; Gally. He’s marching up to me, fists balled and face flushed. It took me a lot longer than usual to realize he was coming due to my inebriation.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” he snaps, jolting me out of the warm feeling his drink was bringing me. “Hank just told me he has a crush on you. Are you just going to seduce my crew? Or do you need to have the entire Glade under your control too?”  
He’s slurring his words slightly and swaying where he stands, telling me he’s probably just as fucked up as I am. Gally rarely drinks from his own supply, so this must be why he has the sudden gall to confront me despite our agreement with Alby. I get to my feet unsteadily, anger replacing my calm demeanor, but before I can speak, Newt shimmies in between us and puts his hands up, metaphorically waving a white flag. 
“Gally, mate, you’ve had a few. You don’t want to start something here. Just sleep it off and we’ll figure this out in the morning,” he says reassuringly, putting a timid right hand on Gally’s left shoulder. Newt’s keeping his voice purposefully low as he’s aware half The Glade has started staring in response to the confrontation.
“I’m not talking to you Newt, I’m talking to her,” he snarls, shaking his shoulder out of Newt’s grip, his blue eyes never leaving mine.
“I don’t know why you’d think I’d want to seduce a Builder. You all have the IQ of fruit flies,” I snapped back, my voice coming out far hoarser than I intended it too. At the sound of this insult, the rest of my group of friends get to their feet and several of Gally’s jog over from the other side of the bonfire. Elsie’s hand instinctively grabs my left wrist as Chuck holds onto my right forearm. Gally’s arms are also being held onto by Thomas & Ben, who are exchanging worried glances. Our friends mobilized so quickly that Gally & I barely had time to react. But despite Newt’s pleading & the four pairs of fingernails now digging into our arms, Gally continues.
“Please Y/N, like a guy’s intelligence has ever stopped you from opening your legs,” he chortles, before going in for his finisher, “Just stay the fuck away from my Builders. It’s hard enough to keep them working without some slut parading around The Glade like she’s God’s gift to teenage boys,” he spits, his eyebrows furrowing and his muscles flexing, as he rigorously pulls against Thomas & Ben.
His comment rings in my ears for what feels like an eternity. That choice of insult is vicious, even for Gally. Alby has all but banned that word in The Glade, chastising & throwing in the Pit any poor shank that dares to use it against any of the girls here. 
My cheeks are hot and I feel Elsie & Chuck tighten their grip around my arms. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or the stress of the day finally coming down on me or the wolf whistles I got this morning for taking my jacket off echoing in my ears or the smug look on Gally’s face or the memory of crying myself to sleep last week or the nods of agreement to his comment by several onlookers, but all of it is too much and something in me snaps. Fuck the agreement with Alby, fuck controlling my anger and fuck dealing with any of this sober; this means war. 
Before I’m even fully aware of my own plan, I’m ripping my arms from my friend's grip. Elsie & Chuck stumble to the ground as they call desperately after me. The crowd formed around our altercation parts for me easily as I rack my brain for the easiest way to cause Gally pain. The Glade is spinning haphazardly as I stumble to Frypan’s table with tonight’s feast set upon it. I search furiously for the rusted copper pot that holds the rest of Gally’s elixir. 
Thomas and Ben, who are now joined by Newt, Minho, Chuck, Alby and Jeff, are trying to forcefully pull Gally away from the fire, towards The Pit. He is fighting this punishment with the spirit of an angry Griever, his voice echoing continued insults towards me that I can’t quite understand at this distance.  Elsie & another Glade girl, Lireale, are sprinting after me, clearing the crowd and scanning the darkened clearing for any sign of me. Gally breaks from his friend's grip and has only a second to take in his surroundings before I’m back next to the bonfire, right in front of him.
I stare into his eyes with as much venom as I can muster, my left hand flat against the bottom of the pot, my right hand tipping it sideways. Months of swallowed anger and dismissed indignation swell in my chest. I take one last look in his eyes before chucking his famous elixir into the flames with as much might as my drunken body can muster.
The bonfire immediately swells to the height of our treehouse, quickly absorbing its new fuel. Gally’s drink has about as much alcohol in it as a bottle of medical antiseptic and I take a moment to drink in the cleverness of the destruction I’ve caused. Gally’s expression has melted from anger to fear. 
I win
I watch the orange hues reflected in his wide eyes before feeling the electric shock of stray flames connecting to my body. As I fall to the ground in pain, I feel two sets of calloused hands picking me up and carrying me quickly in the direction of the med hut. My vision is tunneled as I watch two other figures pick up Gally and carry him in the same direction. 
We’re going to have to be in the same room for the first time since our friends learned better. And after the stunt I just pulled, he’s going to murder me. I focus on preparing my mind for whatever counterattack he has planned, instead of the searing pain now blossoming in my hands and on my chest.
I come to my senses a little more in the bright med hut as I’m gingerly placed on a cot by Ben and Newt, wincing at the contact of charred skin and coarse fabric. Gally’s voice brings my ears back to reality with a ring. Though he can’t attack me physically through the pain of 2nd degree burns being sterilized, he still finds enough energy to take verbal shots at me.
“Fuck you, Y/N! I’ll be out of work for a week because of this,” he grunts emphatically, voice still slurring. I look up at him through the line of Runners & Builders standing between our two cots, trying to prevent the counterattack he’s in too much pain to plan for now. He’s balling his fists and wincing as Clint uses a damp cloth to wipe gently at the largest of his burns; a large red stripe on his right bicep. Thomas and Hank are standing at his shoulders next to the cot, helping pass supplies to Clint as he works.
“You don’t do anything but bark orders, your crew will be fine without you, shank,” I spit back. “Shank” was often used jokingly and with affection between other Gladers but when Gally and I use it, it sounds more like a slur. 
I’m still smiling cartoonishly from the sight of him getting his comeuppance. I can deal with my own pain if it means Gally has to be in pain too. I’m lying on my back as Jeff places an aloe-soaked bandage on the burn I have on my cheek. Elsie kneels next to me, holding my left hand, whispering mixed words of sympathy and scolding that I don’t hear. I’m attempting to stare at Gally, bobbing my head from left to right, trying to move into a position where her head’s not blocking my view.
The med hut is swarming with people. Alby is standing by the door, arms crossed, eyes jumping between Gally and I, getting the story of what happened told to him by Newt and Chuck. The former is in damage-control mode, sticking up for me with an earnest tone and the latter is beaming with pride, unable to contain the excitement in his voice as he recounts how high the flames got. The several large Runners & Builders that formed a human chain in between Gally’s cot and mine are starting to relax and disband, as they finally take in the severity of our injuries. Lireale is passing supplies to Jeff on my left, who’s whispering instructions to her. There are several other lookers-on who snuck in to see the action before Alby started stopping people at the door and telling them to go to bed, lest they lose their right to lunch tomorrow.
“Oh yeah and what do you do, greenie? Besides seducing every poor shank that gets bloodied up enough to have to come here,” he yells back, voice getting hoarse and gaze softening as Clint bandages the site on his arm that he injected the anesthetic into. He sighs with relief at the sight of it kicking in so quickly.
I shouldn’t be surprised this sentiment is what started this mess. Gally is known to rant to anyone who will listen that girls are a distraction in The Glade, and any shank dumb enough to fall for that distraction deserves to be thrown to the Grievers. I’m not the only girl and haven’t been for a while; there’s four more of us he could direct his sexist anger towards. But he never looks at them the way he looks at me; as if my existence itself causes him offence.
“You wish Gally. Is that why you always get your wounds patched up in your hut?” I croak back, my voice starting to falter as Jeff pulls an identical needle containing anesthetic out of my arm. “Afraid you’ll get too riled up if I’m the one stitching you up?” I mumble, my voice barely audible as my eyelids flutter close. 
I feel my shirt being pulled off gingerly by Elsie, exposing my bra. Jeff gets to work on a particularly nasty burn going from my collarbone to the top of my right breast. The last thing I see before being lured into a drug-addled sleep is Gally’s blue eyes, tracing my now-exposed figure. Maybe it’s the heat of the burns, or the stress of the pain, but I swear I can see his cheeks flush and his eyes widen before he quickly looks towards the ceiling and succumbs to the sedatives in his system as well. Like I said; Gally doesn’t look at me the way he looks at any other girl. But I’ve never seen that look before.
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toppamplemousse · 19 hours ago
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fairytalestappen part 1: beauty and the beast
a series of headcanons for fics that will never be written but exist fully fleshed out in our minds
for months now, we have had vague ideas of a series of lestappen fics all based on popular disney princess movies. alas it seems they are consigned to the fic graveyard and will never be written but that doesn't mean that people don't deserve to hear about them
so without further ado.........
part 1 of 5: beauty and the beast
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starring charles as the beauty (obviously) and max as the beast (sorry max). and also all of the animated objects like lumiere, cogsworth, mrs. potts, etc are max’s ex-teammates (checo is mrs. potts thats the only one i've assigned for sure). charles is still an f1 driver but max is NOT (sorry max again)
basically jos pissed off a witch at some point and got a curse placed on him which was inherited by max when jos died. max is cursed to be beastly and also for reasons i can't remember he wasn't able to leave his abandoned villa that he lives in in the hills above monaco. the curse will only be lifted when jos, now max, has someone who loves him enough to do something truly selfless for him.
the beast is a well known myth in monaco, like whenever things go wrong in monaco (storms, designer clothing boutiques closing, etc) the monegasques blame the beast and say the beast is responsible
so charles, of course, thinks that his monaco curse, which has kept him from winning the monaco grand prix for so many years, is caused by the beast, and this year in the weeks before monaco, he decides to visit the beast and see if he can get the curse lifted (we conceived of this idea before charles had won monaco so there was going to be a lot of angst about never having won monaco. monaco 2024 you'll always be famous) charles makes the journey up to max's villa. there’s a storm and charles gets lost, so max comes out to rescue him, but charles thinks he’s kidnapping him. they get off on the wrong foot immediately and hate each other
charles tries to get max to talk about the curse but max clams up and wont tell him anything. charles meets all the ex-teammates and they explain the curse being passed down and that max isn’t a bad person. maybe they do it in song? who could say. alex albon sings be our guest. okay moving on.
charles tells max about his monaco curse, but max swears he has nothing to do with it. however, he takes charles to a room in his house filled with F1 memorabilia and says they can look through it together to see if there’s any mention of a monaco curse. charles is charmed and as they look through the objects together, they begin joking and flirting and start to See Each Other In A Different Light.
daniel/pierre/alex/checo organize a very romantic moment where charles and max watch the sunset over monaco and share a dance (checo is singing beauty and the beast in the background but that's unimportant. charles is somehow wearing a giallo modena ballgown and that is very important To Me). they have A Moment where they Look Into Each Other's Eyes and charles is about to lean in to kiss max when max breaks away and flees (bc he thinks he's unlovable bc he's a beast and because of the curse. poor max. it's going to get worse buddy).
oh no! it’s imola weekend. charles has to leave but promises max he’ll come back immediately. max doesn’t believe him bc he’s cursed and no one ever keeps their promises. LOTS OF ANGST. then charles DNFs in imola and ferrari are worried about his mental state going into monaco so they put him on lockdown. charles is ANGUISHED bc max is going to think he abandoned him. but there's nothing he can do about it until after monaco.
charles DOMINATES the FPs in monaco and he’s all-but-guaranteed to get pole. there’s a lot of unrest in monaco bc the monegasque people are worried that this year is going to be like previous years, and charles is going to be robbed of the win he so clearly deserves. so a mob forms to march up to max’s house in the hills above monaco and kill him, so that charles will not be cursed anymore. damn these monegasques are kinda dramatic.
charles faces an agonizing decision. he needs to stay for quali to get pole and have any hope of winning. but they’re threatening the love of his life’s life. it's not really a choice at all. charles leaves the paddock and races up the hills to max’s house. its raining. it’s very dramatic. charles saves max from the mob, gives a big speech about how he loves max, how he knows now he isn’t cursed, how he can win the race without anyone interfering for him.
charles has given up any hope of winning his home race in order to protect max. SELFLESS ACT. max’s curse is broken. he and charles kiss and declare their love, max is like “i can’t believe you gave up your home race for me” charles says “there’s always next year”
but wait! the rain was so severe that quali was delayed! charles makes it back in time and puts it on pole. he wins the race, and max is there in parc ferme and under the podium.
then they go to jimmy’z afterwards and live happily ever after.
i know that in the movie the whole curse is also affecting lumiere and cogsworth etc and at the end when the curse is broken they become people again but in this story all the ex-teammates stay as objects forever and live in max and charles' house. maybe liam lawson joins them as a little teacup one day, who can say for sure
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next up: cinderella!!!
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raviollies · 3 months ago
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actually no im gonna yap
im trying SO HARD to gaslight myself into liking veilguard but so many narrative choices just make me scratch my head. I AM NOT DONE, I currently gotta go to Weisshaupt.
I'll start with things I like so far:
1. I think the game is really pretty and I like the puzzles :) Antiva is GORGEOUS, I think one of the prettiest areas in the entire series.
2. I really like the Minrathous/Treviso choice. More of that please! some actual drama and consequence!
3. Assan is adorable and I cannot walk past without petting him. I didn't anticipate myself liking Davrin so much since I'm usually drawn to magic babies over warriors, but he's probably my favourite alongside Bellara. I think him having left his clan is very interesting narrative choice (I am totally not biased considering it's very similar to Daee's story)
4. Thank you lord almighty for the wardrobe/mirror system. Godbless.
5. Everytime Lucanis speaks I think of Puss in Boots and that brings me great joy. Whimsy even.
6. When you place Tevinter decor in the lighthouse, they have a Hookah right beside a fresco of Solas killing Mythal and that is mind bogglingly hilarious. I do love that the Shadow dragons know how to unwind. We're turning up after fighting for elf rights.
7. Solas surviving entirely on meat, raisins and honey feels very r/malelivingspace
Things I am Not Liking So Far
1.Minrathous feels utterly toothless. Its described as terrible, den of slavery, conversion therapy through blood magic, treatment of elves being terrible - yet we walk around unimpeded. I expected a similar experience as the Winter Palace, or fights that could be avoided if playing as a human.
LAVELLAN is introduced in the TEVINTER TAVERN, wearing TEVINTER CLOTHING, like it doesn't...make much sense to me? Inquisition set up the cross roads with Morrigan AND the Inquisitior, it feels like it would have made much more sense narratively not just from..."I am the fucking Inquisitor In Fucking Minrathous" but "Solas and the crossroads are a vital connecting point of these characters story."
Speaking of Inquisitor, wildly bizarre to me that neither Solas nor Varric comment on you meeting them. Solas has a weird painting of the Inquisitor chair, but you meet the mf face to face and he just does't acknowledge it. I am not a Solavellan player but I felt Really Bad For Them In That Moment.
I think a good moment of comparison is the difference in tone of DAI and DATV...When we find out the orb is elven in DAI, Solas warns us to keep it to ourselves, with Lavellan even remaking that the world will blame us for Corypheus. In DATV, we inform everyone that Elven gods are attacking, and there's no thought or conversation about the impacts of that on Elves in society. The only one to mention it is Davrin way after we've been spilling the beans left and right.
2. I'm not done the story but hey has anyone mentioned we haven't fought a single Fen'Harel agent, what's up with that... I expected to be fighting Elves based on the epilogue in Tresspasser but ?? ???
3. I'm sorry I HATE THEM DISREGARDING THE WELL OF SORROWS IN FAVOUR OF MORRIGAN WHEN SOLAS MAKES A HUGE DEAL OF YOU BEING TIED TO MYTHAL IF YOU DRANK FROM THE WELL. Oh sorry, if it was unimportant then why the fuck did you go on a monologue about how you're "her creature" and connected to her. It felt like a retcon of the importance placed on it in Inquisition and how much of a deal both Solas AND Morrigan make about it. I'm sorry picking a ROMANCE was more important than acknowledging THIS?? ? ??
"But Ravie, they can't account for Inquisitors personality and making them important would piss people off" then just kill them off. If they're set on Morrigan carrying this piece of narrative, I would have written the Inquisitor off the table before the choice becomes relevant. Have them help you in the ritual at the start of the game and die. I feel similarly about Varric, because he feels like the writers stuffed him in the closet to not talk which just...JUST KILL HIM. Its better than being relegated to furniture!!!!
3. Speaking of Morrigan why the hell is so nice. This is not my beautiful mean witch wife. In fact everyone is nice. Even hardened Lucanis has been polite to me.
4. I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH ROOK. I profoundly hate starting off friends with Varric (and him getting shelved like what was the point). It ruins a lot of initial RP for character establishment, because it limits how the player character FEELs about the whole thing, your motivations are GIVEN to you. Furthermore, it feels like rook HAS an established character. I don't feel like I got to play my rook, just say things slightly differently based on an already established character. I dont feel like I am roleplaying a custom character, just as Biowares stand in protagonist. Maybe I'm just spoiled by the level of interaction that BG3 provided me.
The opening sequence is bizarre to me, because IF I MAKING THE STORY....I would have had the introductory quests for each of the companions be the first quest based on the faction you select (Shadow dragons with Neve, Mournwatch with Emmerich, Crows with Lucanis etc. etc.) That way you establish your character based on the faction and immediately get a little tutorial on what kind of character you're going to be playing. I would even keep the introductory quests the same with minor dialogue tweaks. The ritual would come after the tutorial prologue mission and then you start with Harding and the companion you got introduced with, since the order you get them...really doesn't matter or impact anything.
5. I think the Venatori and Antaam following Elven Mage Gods is kinda dumb. Sorry. I thought they both looked down on them for being either Elves or Mages/didn't even acknowledge them. What the hell is their goal anyway
My criticisms comes down to...I don't know what themes the game is trying to tackle? The game SAYS things but doesn't actually do anything with these topics. Minrathous HAS a slavery problem but we don't see it. Treviso is ruled by a faction of assassins but it's like a good thing! Elven gods are responsible for everything wrong in the world, but the narrative implications of what that means for modern elves are acknowledged in passing like acknowledging the weather. The game feels hesitant to actually unpack any of these things despite being the one to put them on the table.
Anyway I am going to finish the game and probably play on Daee with a Solavellan Inquisitor to see if that improves my experience by picking a character who is more tailored to the Rook they portray/not having an emotional connection to the Inky, but atm...Man I Had Hopes. Made me feel stupid for getting so hyped up for a conclusion to a story arc for a character THEY SPECIFICALLY LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER FOR A DECADE. I'll just draw art, lie face down in the ground and imagine a more narratively satisfying conclusion to my Inquisitors story.
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bobabisch · 4 months ago
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I often hear the argument that Luffy is dumb, and I can't help but be ticked off every time I hear someone say it, because Luffy isn't dumb, he's simply carefree. And I mean that in the literal sense of the word. Luffy truly does not have a care in the world. Luffy chooses not to complicate things. He does things for the simple fact of wanting to and he purposely refuses to learn about people, situations, and the nuances involved with both because the nuance just pollutes the true nature of the subjects. Luffy doesn't choose to do these things out of ignorance or selfishness, but because in the grand scheme of things, all the information that he chooses to ignore is wholly unimportant both by Luffy's own standards and to the development of the story as well. What Luffy deems unimportant does not matter at all to how things play out in the anime.
Luffy, at his core, is an incredible judge of character. Luffy's relationship with Tama is a perfect example of this. By all accounts Luffy's first impression of Tama should have been negative. She came off as a little bit mean and stand-offish. However, Luffy in his natural Luffy-fashion is unbothered. He didn't need Tama to tell him or show him explicitly the kind of person she was to understand her as a person. Despite the fact that she was a little girl, Luffy treated her with basic respect right off the bat. Luffy didn't see her as child, but rather as the self-sufficient human she was. Of course his fondness for her was only furthered by the food that Tama gave him. Luffy didn't need to know anything more about Tama after he heard that she had given him her last shares of food. He didn't need to hear Tama's sad story to understand her. She treated him with kindness, like she would a friend, even though they had just met. Luffy would go to the ends of the earth for her over that simple fact. He had no desire to learn of Wano's history to better understand how Tama got to this point in her life. All he needed to do and all thay he wanted to do was return a kindness. And that he did.
The same can be said for the part Luffy plays in Nami's story. When Nami 'betrayed' Luffy, he'd simply brushed it off. Once again, Luffy knew who Nami was without having to ask and without her having to show him explicitly. Luffy saw her 'betrayal' yet did not take it at face value. Luffy refuses to leave her behind because everything Nami had said/done in that situation muddled Luffy's inherent and instinctive understanding of her character. This next bit is ironic to say because Luffy often makes decisions with his stomach rather than his head, but its clear that Luffy would rather trust his gut feeling than try to understand Nami's actions which appeared entirely contradictory to Luffy's perception of her personality/character.
This theme rings true throughout the whole anime. This happens when Luffy chooses to trust Law on Punk Hazard over Law's rather dubious choices without needing or wanting an explanation from him. This happens when he rescues Zoro at the very beginning of the anime and he simply trusts this well-known pirate hunter not to cut him down right of the post. I beg of you all, please do not dilute Luffy's complex character design down to something so trivial as him simply "being stupid".
Sorry for the tangent, I have just always felt people who say this about Luffy sell him and his whole character design short. There is so much more that I could say about this too. I could go into detail about the ways in which Luffy is as smart as the rest of the crew (in different ways than them obviously), but that would call for several more paragraphs, so I'll just cut it here I think.
Anyways tell me what y'all think, I'm curious.
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writing-hat · 3 months ago
Text
shattering
/!\ Spoilers for Dragons Rising S2P2!
(very original title) hiii i'm still not dead <3 sorry i'm not active but y'know. life.
here's a jay fic!! about him experiencing shatterspin for the very first time but this is actually more me trying to make the wolf masks kinda gory and made out of flesh it's. it's an experiment. as well as like. physical effects
i'm just having fun and trying out some things (ig it's not really a fic then but idk adfkjsegd)
/!\ TW : Blood, Gore, Wounds, Death (tell me if I forgot something)
Also not beta read and I don't read that well behind myself yaddi yadda y'know the drill (especially since this is more of a bunch of scraps assembled together and not a real fic akfjzsgv (I might cross post it on AO3 at some point we'll see))
This is around 6.8k words so it's half a short? anyway enjoy
Jay narrowed his eyes at the mask he held.
It seemed to be looking back at him. And to be frank, he wasn’t a fan of how it looked back.
A shiver crawled down his spine as he passed his fingers on the front. It was meant to be a mask, but the fact that there was hair there, even if short, was somewhat disturbing to realize. He didn’t know how to feel about the idea that these could be made of real fur. Or worse, that they were somewhat organic, and used to be alive.
He checked the eyes; they seemed colorless, and dull, when inactivated. Glassy.
Dead.
That last realization brought relief. Yeah, it was dead.
Whatever it was.
He knew he was supposed to put that shit on at some point, but… it didn’t seem like a great idea, in hindsight. At least that’s what his guts were telling him.
His mind was on a whole other setting. He trusted Ras, after all. Why shouldn’t he? He had saved him, from the insanity that the Administration had been.
Thank goodness this is over. He was grateful to the man, and had taken the time to hear his interests, and plans. Things Jay wasn’t bothered by, too big to be of a concern to him. But since they were important to his savior, well, who was he to refuse helping him?
He passed a hand on the fur again, before turning it around to see the inside. He winced.
It had been… somewhat ‘polished’, but one could not look away from the flesh that had probably been ripped apart from some unfortunate creature, the whole mask made of stitches between different kinds of skin. But he didn’t dare to touch it to confirm his fears. Had it been the same specie, every time? He did wonder if asking himself that wasn’t the most unimportant question of all.
Living beings had to die, for these masks to be made.
Jay hated how his brain was sure of it.
That, and there was some… sort of taint, at the bottom of it. Where the mouth was supposed to be.
It wasn’t on all the masks, but enough of them had it to pique Jay’s curiosity.
He hadn’t talked about it to Lord Ras yet, of course. He doubted others had noticed what these visages were made of. He wasn’t even sure how he had noticed the details in the first place.
Perhaps due to his weird anxious nature about everything that’s been happening since starting his life in the Administration. His only life, actually, since he couldn’t remember shit from before.
The medallion felt heavy in his pocket. Its sudden presence making itself known made him frown.
This piece of metal was all that was left to him. He wasn’t even sure how the ones that had found him in the Land of Madness hadn’t taken that away from him, just like all his previous belongings.
He placed the mask back in its place, giving it a final glare, before walking away.
He looked at himself, unsure of what to think of his clothes.
They were comfy, that was for sure. Much better then the suit he’d been forced to wear for years in this damned Administration. And looking much better. He did enjoy the patterns that had been added to go along his powers. Symbols of wolf could be seen as well, on his chest, making sure people would know which clan he belonged to- in case the mask wouldn’t be enough.
But the fur covering his neck, and the gloves… he didn’t like as much. They hid away scars, important parts of himself.
Then again, he still had the ones on his face, definitely due to his own powers when it came to the lightning paths, and probably from fights where there were cuts, and skin that had been torn.
He wasn’t a fan of keeping them away.
But, having his body completely protected when it was clear he was going to fight in the future wasn’t that bad of an idea. Are we going to fight now? Jay doubted it. A lot of the new recruits had probably no idea of what they were getting into. Had probably been enrolled with the idea that they were going to become better fighters, with something close to powers. Lots of people didn’t listen fully when about to drastically change their lives, he had seen it many times in the Administration.
With a heavy sigh, he passed a hand on his face. To be honest, Jay hadn’t thought that long about this idea of joining Lord Ras’s forces as well.
But I owe him. He was there when no one had tried to help. It was all that mattered.
Jay could hear people getting closer. He turned around, seeing Cinder and Ras coming towards him.
The latter still had the same expression as always, severe, and mildly pissed off at people for breathing in front of him. The master of smoke, on the other hand, often had a smug expression there, knowing he was above everyone else, and enjoying it way too much. Not too far from them, he could see Jordana, the sort of witch- he didn’t completely understand what her deal was- who looked away as soon as she saw Jay noticing her.
He didn’t get to focus on that, though, when Ras made sure to be the only thing in his vision.
“I take it you’re ready for today.”
No. Not at all. But this wasn’t what their Lord wanted to hear. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, doing his best to resist the need to fidget with the fur around his collar.
“A first test, to make sure everything will go smoothly for the first battle.” Cinder chuckled at Jay’s expression, before handing him the wolf mask. “You’re lucky to try it before the real deal, Jay.”
He glared at Cinder. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Though, with how the master of smoke was looking at him, mocking, he wouldn’t call any of this luck.
Inhaling sharply, he tried to not let himself show how nervous he felt. He hadn’t expected to wear it so soon. He grabbed the mask that was given to him, nauseous at how he was about to wear unknown skin on his own.
He tried to compare it to leather, but fuck that had nothing in common. He passed trembling fingers on the inside, wanting to confirm his fears.
…Yup. Organic tissues. It was repulsing.
Cinder quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hesitant now?”
There was a threatening growl coming from Ras that echoed with the other’s words. Jay closed his eyes, and shook his head. At least… there weren’t any smell to go with the thing. “No. Not at all.”
“Good.” Ras crossed his arms behind his back, walking towards the arena. “Then get ready. You will be tested along our new soldiers.”
Soldiers. Why did he hate that designation? Wasn’t he supposed to be more, with his elemental power?
He adverted his gaze, focusing it back on the inside of this mask. “Sure.”
It was the first time he entered the shadow dojo. The outside had been eerie, with nothing but the strange orange and red light on their paths, but the inside was a whole other deal.
It was… poorly lighted, somehow, despite the bright lights coming from outside, with candles offering a soft blue glow all around them. He wasn’t sure how the flames managed to stay in that hue, but couldn’t really focus on that when he was trying to avoid all the others that entered with him. Some were chatting, apparently already knowing each other.
Jay didn’t want to know anyone in here. He didn’t see the point.
There were runes everywhere as well. He had no idea of what they meant, but they were glistening too, in that same color as the candles. Plants had grown as well on the wall, somehow.
He sat on the ground, unbothered to stay up like the others. From here, he could see that the only one on the ground like him was someone with a large hat, covering most of his face. His eyes were revealed briefly when he raised his head to watch who had come here for the first trial, allowing Jay to recognize him.
He was the guy he had seen many times speak with Ras. Although speak was a light statement; more so yelling and arguing, with the latter always having the last word, letting the other clearly frustrated.
Nokt. That was his name. He remembered him due to the electrical device placed on the back of his head. Even if he wasn’t sure he had heard his name right earlier, since it seemed like he preferred to keep to himself, as proved when he lowered his hat down again, effectively shielding his expression away from everyone else.
But there was something Jay managed to see before he did.
A spark of amusement, of all things, akin to one about to watch some sort of entertainment unfold.
…Jay didn’t think he was going to like that guy.
His attention shifted back to their leader, when he hit the ground with his hammer. He gave a speech, one Jay half-listened to, about being ready to change their lives for this better form of power, and so on and so on. Monologues are always so tiring.
…Where had he heard boring monologues like these before?
A glimpse of- something, from before, barely there, that escaped him as soon as he tried to look for it, smothered away by another hit of Lord Ras’s hammer against the ground, and someone getting on their feet and walking to the center of the room. Jay thanked his luck helping out for once, since he definitely wouldn’t have heard his name if he had been first.
Watching the guy, he gave way to his urge, and started to play with the fur around his neck to keep himself calm. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like his anxiety was eating him alive, starting with his insides, and pulling on his guts and get him to run away from there as fast as he could.
He gnawed on his lip. He couldn’t make himself worry about nothing. This was just… apprehension, that came with every test he had to take.
Except if he failed this one, he might’ve to be forced back into the Administration. Damn it.
Deciding on ignoring the painful cramps his overreacting unconscious gave him, he focused back on the scene before him, observing the one that had been called.
The guy nodded his head to Lord Ras, and placed the mask on his face. Jay winced, clutching his other hand around the one he was holding; he really didn’t want to know how centuries old flesh would feel on his face. But he supposed he had no choice.
Holding his breath as Ras approached the gong, he tried to think of the power that wearing this mask would mean for him. He knew there was something about a forbidden technique of some sort, the Shatterspin, which he’d been taught the basics, but what about his powers? What would be the effects?
He’d seen Cinder. He’d seen how much quicker and agile he became whenever the mask would fuse with him, and gift him an armor instead of staying as a mask. The red eyes, he wasn’t that fan of, but if it meant finding who he was supposed to be, by feeling his powers better then ever before…
The scar under his left eye throbbed, forcing him to rub it. Not that he didn’t feel his power now, but he didn’t quite think he had a good grasp on it. He managed a few zaps here and there, and sparks to help him when it was completely dark, but other then that, not much else.
There is potential within you, Jay Walker. These had been Lord Ras’s words.
And he couldn’t wait to unleash that potential.
The gong was hit a first time.
Jay jumped out of his skin when the one put on trial shrieked in pain. Someone beside him gasped, letting him know that he definitely wasn’t the only one to be surprised.
He walked back, holding his face in pain and doubling over as the mask’s glowed that bright cyan. Not letting him the time to rest, or even wonder what was happening to him, the gong was hit a second time with a sound that echoed all around them. It was enough to make the room shake, and dust fall from the unexpectedly stable walls of this place. All the blue lights turned red.
The guy screamed again. Jay watched as he tried to remove the mask, pulling on his hair when trying to remove the strap that kept it in place. But it didn’t budge, despite his knuckles turning white from the force he was using for this one thing.
Jay felt sick, witnessing all this. Glancing around, he noticed how disappointed Lord Ras looked, and the way Cinder let his disgust appear.
…Shit.
His attention shifted back to the man in the center when he heard him puke. From here, he couldn’t really see what came out, and couldn’t help his flinch when the sound of retching reached his ears.
Chocking sounds could then be heard. It surely didn’t help when he threw his head back, gasping for air, too far gone to realize that he was making things worse.
Jay couldn’t look away from him. Doing so… doing so would mean he wasn’t cut for this role. It would mean showing weakness, and not being worthy of the chance offered to him.
Doing so would mean abandoning the man to his fate, a far side of his brain whispered. Jay took a deep breath, brushing that thought aside, just like he always had back in the Administration. Kindness and pity weren’t the way to go when one wanted to master Shatterspin, and the power of the Wolf Clan. He remembered Ras’s warnings too well.
Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but check a second time their leader, breath getting stuck in his throat when he did.
Lord Ras was watching them, not the poor guy struggling to survive against the surges of powers that went in his body forcefully. He was quick to understand; he wanted to see who was able to stomach it, and who would be useless in the future to him. And fuck, Jay didn’t think he could do that, but he didn’t have a choice. His body and mind didn’t have a choice.
The man screamed in pure pain and terror one last time, turning Jay’s insides. His hands grabbed at his skin, scratching with abnormal nails that had grown after the gong had been hit a third time. It made deep wounds, forcing crimson to pour out, but it seemed like the man couldn’t care less, just wanting to get rid of that cursed mask.
He heaved, then coughed, falling on his knees with a final yell, yielding to the pressure of energy that must’ve been coursing through his body. Unable to adapt.
And then…
He fell to the ground.
As soon as he did, the red lights came back to the blue hue they had first seen when entering the room.
When others gasped, and some cried, one, Jay heard a snicker. He looked around, trying to see who was sick enough to have that kind of reaction to someone dropping dead in front of them.
He frowned when he found out who.
Now he knew why Nokt had seemed amused at the beginning. He must’ve known this could happen. What a fucking psychopath. He looked away from him, and back at the center of the dojo.
Ras growled, stomping his boot on the ground at the result. He then turned towards Wolf Warriors, a finger pointed at the now dead man. “Get it out of here. We aren’t done yet.”
Shit. Shit. Jay swallowed hard, unable to look away from the blood, as well as the one the corpse left behind when pulled away in a messy trail.
Their leader hit the ground with his hammer, demanding attention from everyone in the room. “The reason he failed, was his resilience against our power. To become powerful, one must learn to bend to the rules that make it all. Only then, can you be one with the Wolf Clan’s powers.” He pointed his weapon towards the recruits, snarling when most of them took a step back in front of it. “Another one of his mistake was doubting me, and being a coward.”
His eyes scanned the room, glaring. “If any of you feel that way as well, you may as well leave. Now.”
That would be a mistake. Yet, some people immediately hurried out, not needing to be told twice. Not a lot- four of them, he counted. Jay closed his eyes, and tried to ignore how two Wolf Warriors followed after them, their claws ready.
What had he gotten himself into? What was going to happen to him?! How many others were going to die? Not that he questioned of the others’ loyalty, but there was no doubt that witnessing that guy’s death must’ve changed their will to join.
Now that Jay knew this was the consequence of failure… fuck. Fuck. His guts were twisting in there, hurting his stomach physically, at this point. His ears were ringing, clouding his mind from everything else. What if all that he had done, all this ‘surviving’ shit, had only lead to his demise?
Jay clenched his fists. He’d never allow that. Cinder had managed to do it, so why wouldn’t he?
This was an opportunity. To find purpose, and a place where he would belong. He couldn’t screw this up. He wasn’t a damn coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fight back the power that was about to allow him a new beginning.
This was a cruel world after all. Hadn’t he learned that over and over again? And he couldn’t be at the bottom of it all just because others weren’t able to keep up.
He would not. He would survive through it all, no matter what it meant to wear that mask.
No matter the price.
Ras called his name. He was the second one to be tested.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his head, and faced the Lord’s eyes with a fierce glare.
Slowly, he got up, ignoring how his stomach still felt like a pit, and how his head was still hurting from the panic he had felt earlier when seeing that man die, his pulse somehow perceivable in his ears.
Still, he got to the center of the room. Only when he did, his eyes found themselves unable to detach from the splatters of blood everywhere. Some were older. Some were on the walls.
They had all witnessed that many times, hadn’t they? And they hadn’t told anyone.
It was… it was…
He took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to loose it.
A dark paw handed the mask to him. It allowed Jay to focus his eyes in front of him, and away from the red splatters. Something he regretted doing, when meeting Ras’s eyes.
They were harsh, and unforgiving.
Jay couldn’t mess up.
He was being given a chance. A chance, that could be taken back, and handed to any other elemental master. He wasn’t the only one gifted after all, Cinder was the proof of that. Ras didn’t need him for this grand plan; he had an army, and people ready to follow his every order.
On the other hand, Jay needed Ras. And he owed that new chance at freedom, to him.
Straightening up, he grabbed his mask, and tried to not think back on how it was made of skin. Instead, he tried to concentrate on how there was metal there as well. When tying the strap behind his head, he tried to not remember how the one before him hadn’t been able to remove it when wanting to escape.
No turning back.
Darkness cornered his vision, the latter becoming defined by the constricted sight given to him.
Once settled, he placed both his arms along his body, and nodded to Ras with a dry throat. The latter growled, rearranging his hold on the hammer.
The gong was hit a first time.
The wave of its sound exploded in the room, reaching Jay’s body. It froze him, both his physical shell, and thoughts. Everything had gone silent in his mind, and around him. And he wasn’t sure if this was due to the effect of its power.
Even breathing seemed impossible, in these short seconds. He was completely petrified, finding himself feeling as if he’d been stuck in something so dense and heavy, holding him back. No noise could make it out of his mouth, despite the pain that had started to build up in both his face and chest.
Something had cracked inside of him.
Just as he sensed it, the gong was hit a second time.
It felt like a blow to his chest, making him back away. His bones felt breaking as he did, making him wonder if they could’ve been weakened by the power he had been hoping to obtain.
His ears unblocked. It caused him to be suddenly dizzy, and made his head heavy with the lack of oxygen.
Then his breath hitched, as soon as he noticed the paralyzing effect was gone.
Like breaking out of shallow waters and reaching the surface, he gasped, greedily sucking air. His legs wobbled, making him feel like he was about to loose balance, as both his hands reached for his neck to protect the precious air he was barely able to keep in his trachea.
His skin was itchy everywhere. Something was going on inside of him, turning his veins icy cold.
Something was wrong, and hurting. Something was very wrong.
The rush of his blood too was fast, and strong, making him think that his blood vessels were doubling in size, and perhaps stretching his skin as it grew, leading to his articulations becoming harder to move. It left the impression that everything was about to blow inside of him.
For a second, he wondered if he had died, and if he was about to fall on the floor, just like the man before him had, but then realized that the sound of his heartbeat was still there, and as fucking loud as it was quick.
He was alive. He was-
The gong was hit for the third, and last time.
The final wave forced him to puke, which he went along with, trying his best to not suffocate with it like the first guy. A blink, and he noticed that it was blood, coming out from his mouth in worrying amounts.
His insides abruptly felt like shattering, and he yelled, as his whole body seemed burning up, a harsh and painful contrast compared to what he’d been feeling seconds ago.
Jay wasn’t able to keep a shriek from escaping him, when the power he’d felt in him for as long as he could remember reached for his limbs, and exploded. The scent of burning skin made it to his nostrils, and he held his middle, as if trying to stop his insides from escaping him like his powers had. Only when he did, he sensed his lightning breaking apart.
Millions of pieces, made of parts of his powers, going absolutely insane, and making his body spasm.
Getting electrocuted was a familiar feeling. One he despised, but was never able to escape for too long when it came to dealing with his own incompetence and ignorance. Or when he would redirect lighting on their ship, to protect the ones he cared about.
But just like his power, these thoughts were shattered, making him cry, as his head hurt too much for him to keep up with.
So he didn’t.
He let these words and images get torn into pieces, shards feeling like they came to his heart, pulling his whole torso in a constricting sensation that once again made him think like he was about to die, just like that. The boiling sensation kept on increasing, causing his whole body to feel like he was burning alive.
Something clicked, then, and his vision became too blurry to understand. The red lights made it so he didn’t know where he was anymore, the distant image of people he used to know breaking apart again and again, causing his mind to shatter as well.
And once it was all gone, he vomited again, hugging himself tightly as if trying to at least keep his body in one piece. His shoulders slowly felt heavier, and the fur that had been around his sensitive skin suddenly ceased to be.
Though this was the last thing Jay cared about, as he fell to his knees, the collide with the ground making his bones almost rattle. The way his fingers kept twitching made him wonder how they hadn’t broken yet.
His breathing was difficult, with a voice that had turned hoarse at yells and cries of pain he hadn’t even been aware to be letting out.
He was about to die. He didn’t know how the feeling was so familiar, perhaps due to the blood that accumulated in his breathing pipes, akin to water, filling his lungs until there could be no air passing through. His heartbeat was diminishing, yet it stayed as the only thing Jay could hear.
So he caught it. He caught his heart, for it was all that was left to him.
His will to stay alive. His will to have something of his own, that would make him whole.
And it was a heart burning with rage.
This, was what pulled all the pieces back. What once had tried to escape him, was now caught back by the sheer amount of anger he felt at how fate and destiny had treated him.
What does it mean? The question went away as soon as it brushed his mind, the violent waves of power crushing anything that wasn’t meant to be like it away.
Thoughts. Feelings.
They no longer mattered.
All that mattered was power. Stitching back all that had been separated.
His lightning felt growing. Launching itself and balancing his body in positions and forms that meant both a cry for a help and the picture of a violent force forbidding anyone to get close.
Then came the fusion.
The skin that made the inside of the mask slithered in through his pores, pulling and tearing its way through to have full possession of him, and share its cursed strength to the one that had dared to agree with its ways. Jay wanted to wonder if this was what it meant to meddle with dark magic.
But he couldn’t even do that, screaming again with his broken voice at the violent intrusion he had allowed for someone else’s game.
Foolish. Foolish. He always was foolish.
The foreign matter didn’t bother to be careful, before settling in- although not without damaging the inside of his mouth some more. It forced out more blood out, kicking out whatever was left that wouldn’t be useful to this newfound power.
A final deep breath, and Jay felt…
Liberated.
Gone, was the weight that had been caused by his soul and mind shattering and leaving behind too many pieces to carry. His whole body now felt light, lungs freed enough to give him as much space as needed for the air he needed to live.
The power felt lurking in his systems, flowing and giving him feelings he’d never felt before.
It was pure bliss.
After a few minutes, Jay blinked, his vision coming back, although with nothing to muffle it this time. The euphoric sensation slowly escaped him, letting reality settle back in his mind. Feelings of what was around and on him came back, making him tighten his fists.
He felt as though his sweat had drenched all of his clothes, along the blood. His chest kept expanding in grand moves, each breath making his body quiver, as he tried to catch his breath properly, and return oxygen to his brain.
When he did, his head returned to its previous heavy state, with each pulse increasing the pressure at an impossible rate. Yet, this stayed incredibly dull compared to what having worn the mask the first time had felt like.
He opened and closed his mouth, stretching his jaw to check if it hadn’t changed, or if the muscles there hadn’t torn apart. They had certainly felt so. He checked his limbs as well, particularly his hands, by opening and closing them multiple times.
Everything was good, it seemed.
Bringing his hands up, he checked his face, wanting to make sure everything was still there, and if he hadn’t just imagined the mask going inside of his skin.
But he hadn’t. The mask wasn’t here anymore.
He rubbed at his neck, but scratched himself, making him hiss. He looked at his hands.
Claws had grown, there. The gloves hadn’t even torn, having adapted to the new form they had gained. Closing his eyes, he then oversaw how his powers reacted to the newly added strength.
The response was immediate, surge of powers making his body twitch, and forcing him to gasp for air again. Opening back his eyes, he saw these bridges of electricity between his fingers, going all the way to the tip of his fingers, before disappearing, over and over again.
He chuckled, snapping his fingers. It created a small blow, enough to shake his curls. He then got back up, not bothered to look at the people around him, despite the loud whispers. Directing his gaze in front of him, he then aimed for a wall with his fingers, before sending his lightning there.
The stone that made the wall exploded, pieces of wood and rocks flying everywhere in the room, and allowing dust to float freely.
Jay snickered, feeling this happy buzzing inside of him, always here in the aftermath.
Fuck yeah.
He had missed this so much.
…I wonder who thisused to be.
Walking away from the gravestone, he added the wood to the fire he had prepared for the night.
A caravan was in that junkyard, but he didn’t feel like he was allowed to get inside, even if no one was there. No matter how cold it could get in the desert at night, this wasn’t his home, and he was simply there as a guest. He wasn’t even sure why he had traveled all the way here, but by the time he had realized where he had gone to, the sun had been long gone, leaving him with no choice but to set up camp here.
At least this spot was empty. It was a welcoming change compared to the crowded and suffocating places that had been the Administration or staying with the Wolf Clan. Although he had always been on his own in these previous positions, here the loneliness was one much better then what he’d dealt with in these last few years.
Jay hoped that there at least wouldn’t be any wild creatures to attack him. Fighting back without his powers had proven to be more difficult then he had expected. Thankfully, he had kept the gun from his time in the Administration; a great way to defend himself.
He sat on the ground, and looked at the fire crackling in front of his feet, relieving the itch on his face by scratching it as much as he could. No doubt his skin had not only turned red, but with marks left behind as well. Damn it.
…Being without that mask was going to be very hard. It had adapted to his skin- or maybe it had gifted him a second one. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t understand any of this.
All he knew, was that whenever he had been wearing it, even if for a short time, it had been granting him such an incredible thrill that he already knew just couldn’t be compared.
Oh, he had felt like he was on top of the world. As if nothing could’ve ever stopped his powers and him, from getting back at everything that had been unfair to him up to this point.
Now, all he had left were scars. From wearing this cursed mask, and bearing these powers that had never been truly his, but another’s hidden through his own element.
Jay had no idea if he missed the mask, its power, or if this was all caused by how much he missed his lightning.
His eye twitched; he should’ve listened to his urge, in that moment, and killed her. Destroyed her. And now that he hadn’t, the feeling of regret was unbearable.
He wanted to tear at his skin, but he didn’t even have the claws left for that. Only his poorly taken care of nails, dirty and gnawed by his need to relieve his anxiety and surges of powers every time he hadn’t been wearing the mask.
…Jay missed it all, as much as he cursed it all.
Had he not followed Ras, he would have never lost his powers. Had he stayed in the Administration, in this false life of his, he would have never been bothered by flashes and addictions he had never been prepared to face. He would’ve found his own way to his demise, sure, but at least through a path never led by others.
How had any of what I heard so farsounded right? How could I fall for their lies?
Jay frowned, thinking back on what he had listened to again. He didn’t believe them at all. Their fake stories…
Everyone lies. They’re all the same. Great warrior my ass. Jay now didn’t doubt that Ras could’ve lied to him, and it upset him greatly. What for?! To give him hope, and then crush it all in the next moment because of his so called failure? Gah!
He thought back on that woman he had fought. She too, had pretended to know him.
The sweet tone he could remember from her voice made him grit his teeth.
Even if she and her team had been right, why had they never come for him? It had been years. He had found himself all over again, since then.
“Let’s theorize that it was because they had no idea of where I was. Fine.” Jay clenched his fists. “Why didn’t they come get me when I was kicked out?”
His words were barely above a whisper, not even heavy enough to be carried around by the wind.
He stopped moving, forbid himself from flinching, focusing on the sounds of the burning fire so he could shift it as a background noise so his brain wouldn’t have to bother itself with. He then closed his eyes, and just… listened.
Strong wind, making the abandoned metal around him creak softly, and passing through small and tight openings, whistling all around him.
Deep down, he knew he waited for another noise. The snap of a branch, or the crunch of the sand under someone’s shoe that would make his hair bristle in apprehension. The sign that someone would come for him.
So he waited.
Until moments later, silence was still all that answered him.
He cursed, bringing his knees up to hug them, and huddle in a smaller position.
Jay didn’t know what else he had expected. Of course this wouldn’t happen.
He was alone. He’d always be, in the end. And it seemed like… he wasn’t enough. Not enough to make up for the help given to him, nor enough for people that were supposed to care about him to come back and find him. Loneliness was all that awaited him. He understood that.
… And despite feeling like this, he didn’t feel as he thought low he would’ve.
No. Quite the contrary.
Jay was… appeased. After all, that meant he could finally build a life. Even if it wouldn’t be much.
Throughout the years, he had learned that he had to move forward in order to survive. To do as told, and never question what he was ordered to do, or face consequences. Whether it had been the Administration, or Ras’s Wolf Clan.
So now, knowing for sure that no one and nothing was going to hold him back was freeing. Enough to get rid of these incessant thoughts bugging his mind, at least. Yet not quite enough to get rid of that pressure in his stomach.
Because all of this meant that he had nothing. He never had, and he never would. It left him… empty.
At the end of the day, it meant that he was nothing.
He watched the sparks escaping the fire. Like lightning’s, in a sense, but much less volatile, and not as comforting. He followed their trails, until his gaze ended up towards the stars. Had he known their names, a lifetime ago? The paths they traced, and how they never changed?
But it must’ve changed after the Merge. There was no doubt about that. Even something supposed to never be in motion except throughout centuries had completely shifted, no matter how infinite and big it must’ve always felt to him.
Everything had changed.
How was he supposed to find his past self if nothing was the same?
I don’t. That’s how. There was no need to waste time for something so meaningless. At least he hoped.
He sighed, glad to be protected from the chill of the night.
Warmth whenever it was cold was always a better thing. It was a comforting presence he had never admitted to enjoy in front of him. His… his heart kinda regretted that now.
Jay blinked at the dark sky.
…Who-
Something flashed before his eyes, too fast for him to identify what it was. It aimed for him, reaching its target in a millisecond.
Lightning had just struck him.
He shouted, feeling his powers immediately coming back to him, making him fall on his hands and knees.
Fuck. He hated that feeling. The one of his body getting electrocuted by his own life source, because he just couldn’t control it right.
Come on! He hit the ground with his fist, spitting on the grass as he grasped at the insanity of his power. He kept gritting his teeth, until finally, the lightning settled in, and buzzed happily to be back in its rightful place, with its rightful owner.
Jay took a deep breath. Yeah. Missed you too.
Since the start, his lightning had been the only thing there for him. To be reunited with it again brought tears to his eyes, both of joy, and anger.
At having lost them in the first place. At losing them to that damned water ninja.
I love you, Jay. I will always love you.
The memory of the woman’s desperate face flashed back when he shut his eyes to get rid of his tears.
An act. It wasn’t that difficult to pretend emotions after all, was it?
If he ever saw her again… he was pretty sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.
She hadn’t hesitated to defeat him. Pretty fucked up for someone who was supposed to care, like she wanted him to believe.
Or maybe she’d been following orders, like I was.
Jay shook his head. Whatever the reason, it clearly wouldn’t justify anything. Nor would it tarnish the way his heart dripped hatred into his blood, making him even angrier then before.
The medallion felt heavy in his pocket.
Too heavy, this time.
He took it, and looked at the shape.
…It was a missing piece. He could see that now.
Jay didn’t want to be that. The missing piece of someone instead of being his own person. Of a puzzle he had nothing to do with.
What kind of life could he expect if all he was supposed to be was a pawn placed by others, and never able to have his own free will? The piece in a long chain of supposed important people. Full of important tasks, to serve the greater good of some kind of Great Administration, or a Great Cause of some Delusional Clan.
He’d be no one’s missing piece. No one’s lost part.
He was his own soul. No matter how shattered it felt, and how many little pieces of it were left.
Jay threw the heavy piece in the fire, the weight in his heart never tarnishing during the long time he watched it in the flames, as the moon advanced its course. He stayed that way, holding his limbs tightly against him, while taking deep yet suffocating breaths.
Until, it finally started to melt.
The slightest tint of gold, pearling down as it became a liquid again, and advanced on the darker metal it was attached to.
Never again.
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seillarium · 4 months ago
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angst drabble w/ ace my love
notes : written in reader's point of view, i think there's no dialogue, no proofread as always, english is not my first language
sincerely, sei : ok so i ddnt write for a very long time, and idfk why im even writing when my exams are tomorrow, but i promise once i get a break i'll write another fic for ace. also, angst cos im suffering but prepare to be underwhelmed ig
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your whole life, you've always tried to avoid doing certain things.
you don't know why, but you're convinced that no matter what happens, you'll finish it at the end of the day; washing the dishes? you'll hold it off for a few hours. you need to make a decision? you'll think about it later. no matter how big or small it is, you always hold it off.
another thing is, you're a firm believer that you'll always have another chance.
you failed to cook a certain recipe? eh, you can just redo it, or better yet, let someone else (a certain.. chef) do it. you forgot a very important belonging of yours on the recent island you visited? oh well, not the end of the world. you're sure you'll obtain something better.
it is what it is.
and that didn't change when you met ace.
you simply took the time you had with him for granted, never caring if he left for a few months. he'll come back, right? same goes for you, he won't be missing you so much, no?
he always comes back to you.
you never clung onto the moments where your eyes would hold each other's, how you'll exchange smiles and his would be a thousand times brighter than yours.
because he'll always be there for you.
he'll hold your hand on random strolls, he'll stand with you whenever you want to observe the morning dew. he'll hold you in winter nights, he'll whisper you sweet nothings before you sleep.
you never thought how when you hold off on apologizing to him after an argument, he'll be in his cabin waiting in pure agony for you.
or when you forget something he mentioned in passing, thinking it's unimportant. not knowing he's truly disappointed inside when you brushed him off.
you're aware that you're not perfect, you never will be.
but now, as you look up above, and you see him chained and looking so, so miserable, you wish you were. and as you ran for him, you can't stop but regret everything you ever did up until this moment.
you should've stopped him from chasing teach.
you should have at least checked if he's okay through the den den mushi.
breathless, you screamed his name.
you should have held him a little tighter in those nights,
you should've let his kisses linger.
with aching legs, you ran.
and as quick as your relief washed upon you when he was released by his little brother, it was also quick to be replaced by dread.
no. please no.
it felt as if your heart was the one that was ripped apart, when you saw him like that. you didn't even hear his last few words, still caught up in your own thoughts.
you should have... you shouldn't have...
as you stood still, and as the time ticks by and eats up away the rest of your sanity, you realized.
you'll never have a love like this again. you'll never experience the warmth he naturally emits. you'll never meet someone like him ever.
because you only had one shot.
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ps. : yeah uhm, it's not good isn't it (im sorry i just need to get this out of my system 😔😔)
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serena-babes · 10 months ago
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Royal Knight Reader x Lucifer Morningstar + Charlie Morningstar
Part TWO!!
platonic! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
gender neutral!!
1.7k
Sorry for the long wait everybody! school really kicked my butt but I am back! and super excited to write! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.゚
just wanna say rq that my requests are open! I will say though I can be a little picky but if you have something in mind I would love to hear it! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
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“And so then I look over and this bitch is halfway down the street!” Angel gestured enthusiastically to the rest of the large table continuous chatter continues from everybody, especially for Lucifer and Charlie. It has been a while since this has happened. 
Dinner was, nice. Maybe not the nicest dinner, food-wise. But “family” dinners aren't very common when you're always on the move or working. Listening to the laughter and plates clinking y/n looks down at their plate. Shiny fork in hand, clean warm plate. It's been a while since it's been like this, everything is so clean and shiny, a semblance of normal in this hellhole.
Too long they realize more like a couple of thousand years long, back when Lucifer was Samuel. It feels like a millennium ago, hell, at this point, it could be a millennium ago. 
Heaven was a lot stricter back then, everyone was made for a purpose and whoever stepped out of line posed a threat. That was why Y/n was the perfect example. And the reason they were assigned to keep a certain someone in line.
“But, heavenly father you must understand I don't.. I'm not made to work on something… with all due respect. Frivolous and unimportant.” Y/n said sternly adverting their gaze from the man himself. But even with their protests, they were still whisked away to take care of the “problem child” 
Messy, is how Y/n would describe it. A workshop with haphazardly thrown-around tools, discarded projects, various writings, and plans. And the messiest part, the Man himself. 
“Samuel” he introduced himself reluctantly 
“I'm not happy with this arrangement either I hope you know that. I don't wish to be a babysitter, even though you're older than me.” Y/n deadpanned, Samuel not amused by this remark went to whatever he was working on. Looking over his shoulder observing his work, not quite sure whatever the hell he was working on.
Y/n whistled out a long note making Samuels eye twitch. “Whatcha.. Watcha working on..” Y/n clasped their hands in front of them. Friendly unprofessional conversation wasn't their forte. 
“I thought you said you didn't want to babysit” Samuel mocked you 
“Well yeah, but that doesn't mean we both have to be COMPLETLY miserable” y/n quipped back “Trust me this will feel a little more like a babysitting shift if I just stand here and watch you…so?”  Y/n gestured to the various mechanical and clay pieces Samuel was arranging. 
Now, not so reluctant. Samuel shows them, and that's how it all started. He would share almost everything with Y/n and soon Y/n couldn't see what was so horrible and troublesome about him. He was sharp and witty but also, a dreamer, a chaser, and stubborn. 
Everything was peaceful for a while, days spent with Lucifer, well Samuel. tinkering away or writing while Y/n trained or did whatever their heart desired. Days spent in the sun streaming through the wide windows of the laboratory some days all they would do was lie on the floor and talk
“So… why do you follow that code, what's it called again? Chivalry? “ Samuel asked laying straight on his back wings outstretched gazing at the laboratory ceiling.
“Yeah... Chivalry.” Y/n responded opting to stop training and laying down next to Samuel feeling their bones and soul decompress from the strenuous work. 
“I'll remember that,” Samuel said cheekily flicking Y/N's shoulder plyfully. 
“Well, I would hope you would I mean it's kinda my whole schtick” retorted Y/n.
“Why do you follow it anywho? I mean… in the end, what's stopping you from... I don't know, not?” He turned to watch Y/N's expressions. 
“You shouldn't... You shouldn't be questioning the heavenly father Sammie. It's dangerous.” Y/n looked over to Lucifer, sometimes Y/n worried his thinking was the thing that would kill him. 
“But, if you want to know, it's because I'm scared, I'm scared of what would happen if I chose something else. you know, what would happen to me. I'm too used to the security it provides.” y/n said honestly opting to look at the ceiling instead of straight at Lucifer. What Y/n didn't know was the saddened knowing expression Lucifer had on.
He was always the odd one out, believing more in himself than in the “higher being” that was his father. If only people could see the fear they had of the man was... Wrong. 
“Hm… I understand” 
“I think that's what I like about you, you're not afraid.” Y/n smiled, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a quick shake.
And that's how life was for a while, truly all rainbow and sunshine. 
Wasent until Lucifer started going to Eden. Slowly but surely changes in Samuels now Lucifer's demeanor changed. And Y/n couldn't keep up. 
“Sam- Lucifer. What. are. You. doing. You're going to get yourself killed.” Y/n pleaded. Grasping his shoulders hoping to shock him back to reality. But all he did was stare at the floor in silence.
“She's just a woman Lucifer .” Y/n took their hands off his shoulders and he started drifting.
“No, she's not..” Lucifer said meekly turning away from Y/n no longer wishing to feel their sharp gaze. 
“Oh? So what are you telling me? That this” Y/n gestured to all the papers heavens sent over giving him warnings. “THIS. was all worth it because you found the love of your life. and that this is the woman for you?” 
“I don't know… she could be.”Finally, Lucifer turned to face them. 
Silence enveloped the room 
“I just… Were both fucked. Things are changing, and I don't. I don't know what's gonna happen.” Y/n sat down on a nearby chair their head in their hands pulling and scratching at their scalp.
Lucifer moved silently across the room moving to observe Y/n. 
It was odd he thought, on the outside, they were the epitome of resilience, class, and discipline. If one of them would be the scared one it sure as hell wouldn't be Y/n. but seeing a strong being such as Y/n clam up. Made Lucifer see them better, no longer was Y/n their “noble babysitter” or another Angel following orders. They were someone who had such complexity as him. 
“Hey… whatever happens, we um.” he eyed the various papers demanding his meeting with his father.
“We will do it together, they always say new beginnings are good… right?” 
And so, off to the races they went. Building disdain in heaven for the “heavenly father” advocating for more rights, changing life on earth. Creating people and new creations. Letting all ingenuity seep out of heaven's angels and onto the earth below, Showering the planet in green. Lucifer and Lilith fall in love. New ideologies are building, and new tempting offers are being given to heaven-curious Angels. 
But, going up against an actual god. You're doomed for failure eventually.
Always an Angel, never a god. 
If you told Y/n thousands of years before that they would be kicked out of heaven with two lovers in toe they would call you mad. Crazy even. Why would you say something so ridiculous?
“Hey! Y/n you looked a little zoned out over there you okay?” Charlie turned to you and asked 
“Yeah! Everything is pretty great right now. I was just thinking.” Y/n got up from the table and went to help Charlie with collecting dishes 
“Oh really? About what?” Charlie said collecting various plates and cups 
“Oh, just about how, proud I am, and how good the hotel is.” Y/n smiles warmly putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder and shaking it a little. “Oh… oh Charlie... Okay, well don't cry! You know I'm not good with TEA-” Y/n said suddenly being engulfed in a bone-crushing hug and a waterfall of salty tears.
After some time, Vaggie has to take a spatula to separate you two. Charlie's tears ceased, and now you three were lounging on the couch. Very reminiscent of what Y/n and Lucifer would do in their youth… They are so scarily similar sometimes, if Y/n squinted they swore they saw Lucifer. 
“When I was a kid I used to be like… SUPER scared of you for a little bit.” Charlie said smiling slightly and laughing to herself 
“Really-”
“Yes.” Charlie and Vaggie both said cutting Y/N's words off. But all Y/n can do is laugh. 
 “Am I that intimidating? Me? I haven't won a single game of Hellopoly in my life, or uno… or I guess any card or board game. I don't see how that's intimidating.” 
“You'd be surprised” Charlie quipped back a small smile gracing her features. 
The room fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments the only sound in the room being the ticking grandfather clock which Charlie eyed suspiciously.
“Hey.. so crazy idea, haha! But. I don't know, I mean you can say no! Of course! But I was just kinda wondering if you would… like to stay at the hotel? I mean protection isn't a bad thing. And it wouldn't interfere with like your actual job… but I don't know I feel like you feel better here, and I know dad feels better when you're here too.” 
Y/n listened to Charlie go on silencing her with her hand 
“That sounds great Charlie,” Y/n said softly getting up to put their now empty glass of wine away. 
As Y/n enters the kitchen, all they see is Lucifer's pajama-clad form rummaging around in the fridge. 
“Now what, are you up to? Didn't we eat like hmm..” Y/n puts their hand up to their chin mocking a thinking pose “like an hour ago?” they quip as they move to wash their empty wine glass. 
“Haha!” lucifer says sarcastically pulling something out to eat.
Soft chatter filters between the two, the kitchen light pretty dark the only luminary being the fridge and the oven light.
“So… guess who is the newest resident,” Y/n said staring expectantly at Lucifer
And they swear they have never seen such a bright smile grace his face.  
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icallhimjoey · 1 year ago
Note
Can we have a sweet and soft Christmas eve with Joey? Just the two of us? pretty please
this was requested at the perfect time, so thank you, and merry christmas my sluts! Wordcount: 1.7K
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Still Love Me?
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"I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I'm upset, d-don't worry, I just..."
You don't get like this very often. Usually, trying to be extra affectionate makes you scrunch your nose up, makes you squirm and laugh and cringe. Makes you push him away, not taking the extra hugs and kisses seriously at all.
Joe doesn't mind.
"What's wrong?"
It's actually nice to not always feel the need to give you more. To not be afraid that maybe you'd be upset after not immediately coming over to hug and kiss you when he'd walk in at the end of the day.
But something's different tonight.
It's likely the holiday stress that's getting to you. Nothing a pair of extra affectionate warm embracing arms won't fix.
"I thought we had more cheese, but all we've got left is this..."
You suppress a sob.
Unsuccessfully.
Joe knows the tears are only there because all of everything has come together for the perfect storm, and you're just about ready to fall apart.
It's sort of cute that it's a lack of cheese that does it, and Joe's secretly glad it's not something that he'd done or said that got you. That it's not his fault, and that he doesn't have to apologise over something unimportant.
It's fine, though, the crying.
Joe had been ready for it.
He's got steady hands and is prepared to catch whatever needs catching. Knows how to put you back together just fine.
"Why did I do this? I've got to stop sneaking things, I– look, there's no... this is all we've got..."
You've got family coming over tomorrow, and it's the first year that your place is the spot for the big get together. It's nerve-racking in new ways you didn't know existed before because you're bringing both sets of parents in, and all you want to do is make the family proud.
Be the perfect daughter.
Have the stepmothers and stepdads get along as well as all of the divorced people. All of the siblings. Step-siblings.
Fuck, there's too many people coming over.
Could you still cancel, do you think?
You just... you just want Christmas be wholesome, and festive, and cosy, full of laughter and love and just... have it be perfect.
It's almost become a bit of a passion project, and it's quite literally driven you mad.
Well. Driven you to tears, at least.
Joe looks over and sees you hold a little block of brie cheese. It's not much, and it's got a bite taken out of it.
"Wait, did you–" Joe's already smiling, because what the fuck is he looking at right now? His girlfriend's got tears in her eyes and is stood in front of the opened fridge door, holding a bit of French cheese that has teeth marks in.
Surely, you are able to imagine what this looks like from his point of view.
It's at least a little funny.
But another sob wracks from your chest and all Joe can do is step closer and wrap arms around your shaking frame.
He's allowed to laugh as he does so.
"I didn't know- I thought we had more, b-but this was all we have, and I snuck a bite last night, because I– I was peckish and just wanted a little something, and–"
"Hey," Joe leans back and gets your face in both his hands. He's still smiling. Can't not smile, because this is ridiculous, but you also look very cute. Red nose. Fat tears stuck in your eyelashes. The colour of your eyes about ten times brighter because of the unshed ones.
"We'll serve 'em dry crackers, and they'll fucking take what they're given, all right?"
You pout and hold up the evidence of your late-night-snack-run in your own kitchen from the night before. It's right in between your faces and gives Joe a chance to really see the cause of the outburst.
"Still love me?"
Joe looks at the brie a second and then lurches forward with a growl, sinking teeth into the soft cheese for a bite of his own.
"Still love you." he replies, mouth full of cheese.
You can't help the choking laugh, head cocking to the side as a defeated soft chuckle leaves you. It only makes Joe want to grab hold of you tighter.
"Hmm," Joe hums, now chewing, and he frowns. "This is good. We should–" he can't finish the sentence without laughing, knowing it's likely the wrong thing to say, but he's already started the sentence. You get a good eyeful of the cheese in his mouth, in between his teeth. "We should get more of this."
Well, you can't.
Hence the crying.
You pout once more and then groan. It's so stupid, you're well aware. You just need a bit of sleep. Your family won't hate you because there's no cheese.
And if anything, you could throw it into the group chat and are sure that at least three people have some brie to bring along tomorrow.
You really are just very tired.
"Tell you what," Joe says, now taking the little piece of cheese from your fingers, one arm still around you. "We'll finish this, have some hot chocolate and just... relax. Watch a Christmas film. Tomorrow is tomorrow and tonight is tonight, you've done enough prepping and it'll all be fine–"
"Perfect." you correct.
It's important that everything will be perfect.
"It'll all be perfect." Joe coos, voice smooth like butter.
You sniff and look at him a moment. He's still chewing. Smiling. Joe's being all playful and it's reminding you of why you love him so much. Glancing into the living room, you know Joe's right. Everything's ready. Everything's done.
It's Christmas Eve.
"Calm before the storm." you sigh, patting Joe where you're holding onto him. Then lower down, quick touch to the bum. Joe easily lets you.
"Calm before the storm." he confirms before you let go of each other. You move to collect yourself, wiping fingers below your eyes, and Joe opens a cupboard to get to mugs out and says, "And I'll go get extra cheese tomorrow, it'll be fine."
You're about to protest. Tell him that the shop you usually go to won't be open. It'll be Christmas. And everyone's stocked up already. Shelves are empty all over. But Joe sees it across your face before you can say anything and adds, "I'll find some, don't worry about it."
And so you don't.
You accept a kiss to your temple, a deep inhale of your hair and you tilt your head for a kiss on the lips. A quiet thank you.
After a squeeze of your arm, Joe gets started on the hot chocolate and you decide to see if there's anything good on TV or if it'll be Netflix for the night.
Before you've been able to make a choice, you hear mugs being filled and you scurry back into the kitchen. You get to the fridge before Joe does, which was the plan. You find the can of squirty cream amongst all of the food and drink - your fridge has never been this full. It's almost triggeringly full; so much food, yet so little cheese.
It takes you too long, and Joe joins to look over your shoulder, to see if he can spot it before you do.
He doesn't.
You find it and giggle excitedly, a little delirious (you've gone mad, remember?) as you shake it with a wild arm. Your demeanor is the opposite of what it was minute earlier.
No tears. Just manic laughter.
Makes Joe laugh just the same. His girlfriend's gone insane and, if he's honest, he's kind of into it.
You spray some cream into both mugs that Joe's filled with hot chocolate, and before you place it back into the fridge, you shake the can again.
"You just said you should stop sneaking things," Joe isn't exactly trying to stop you, but he knows what you're about to do. Feels like it's worth saying something, to maybe prevent a further break down.
It's of no use, though.
His comment makes you glance him pointed a look. It's ridiculous of him to assume you'd been serious. Of course you're not going to stop sneaking things. He doesn't see the deadpan stare you give him because he's busy placing mini marshmallows onto your drinks, but despite the advice, you go for it anyway.
You tip your head back and spray some of the cream directly into your mouth.
"My God," Joe says when you let it go for a little too long, and when he looks, he barks a laugh.
You've overdone it.
It's too much.
Well, is it ever too much? Not really. But it doesn't fit into your mouth and thus there's a problem. This is going to be messy.
With your head still tilted back, you release a small sound of panic at the inability to close your mouth and raise a cupped hand, ready to catch whatever is going to spill.
But Joe knows just the perfect fix, and he's quick.
Before you know what's happening, your boyfriend's got his hand on the back of your neck, digging in strong fingers and guiding your head forward.
Just before whatever your lips can't curl around is about to slide down your chin, Joe's mouthing at it and manages to get it all, tongue licking and lips closing around your opened ones.
What follows is a weird, full-cheeked sticky, creamy, sugary kiss that has you giggling into each others mouths.
It's still messy, but you'd easily do this again. Would it be too obvious if you just went for an insane mouthful once more?
Joe pulls back, sees he's missed a bit and doesn't hesitate to lick at the corner of your mouth, making you shriek with your mouth closed, pushing him away.
"You're gross," you say fondly after swallowing.
He's also adorably sweet, but he doesn't need telling.
Joe lets his head bobble back a little as he silently laughs, wiping at his own mouth with the back of his hand, glad to have been of service.
"Yea? Still love me?"
Tomorrow's going to be fine.
There's no cheese but for the little chunk you're about to share. It'll likely be all gone if you both have a single cracker with some on.
And there probably also won't be any squirty cream left, what with your plan to bring the can over to the sofa for top-ups after you've eaten all of it off. Or, you know, after you've sprayed more of it into your mouth just so Joe can eat it out of there again.
You families can have hot chocolate without any, and Joe's right. They'll fucking take what they'll be given and be grateful.
Or, Joe can find some tomorrow.
Somewhere.
Whatever.
You're no longer fussed.
It's Christmas. Christmas Eve.
"Still love you." you beam, because you do.
You really, really do.
---
The Taglisted
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