#they truly did that and i hate them for it

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.

As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.

As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.

Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.

AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.

DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.

He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.

He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.

He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.

Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.

Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.

VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.

DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”

And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.

His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.

The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.

Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.

Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.

Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.

Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.

But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.

He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.

The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.

Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.

On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.

[bunji-enthusiast]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

☀︎︎ || With a long awaited reunion, Jayce finally gathers the courage to do something he should’ve done a long time ago.

C/W || nothing nsfw honestly, just lots of fluff, Reader’s gender isn��t implied here, appearance isn’t descriptive, Jayce is just awkward with feelings.

Word Count || 3,433

Note || I feel I should clarify that my whole driving force behind this was inspired by all the jayvik scenes (however you view them lmao), and the song ‘young and beautiful’. Some other things inspired this but mainly these things.

This is also a first I’m posting a fic about a character from Arcane, or arcane at all honestly so some honest criticism for my writing would be appreciated.

That scream repeated over and over in his mind, again and of course – again. Jayce was becoming tired, worn down. His heart began dulling out the environment around him, causing him to look forward, no baggage weighing in on the astral shoulders of his that bore a weight so greatly, for the reality of the supposed great arcane. He was trapped in it for so long. 

Red, all he saw was red painting the calluses of his hands. His hands grabbing desperately onto yours, feeling the warmth, the sensation of that beloved warmth leaving your body. 

(All he could do was choke out a cry. Silent in the loudness of the world crashing down around the being of you both.)

Another fabric of time, which would have also been his reality. In which you were enemies, Jayce, he wasn’t sure what side to be on. All he knew was to destroy what was necessary, you otherwise wanted to destroy him. Jayce tried to converse with you, yet his growls fell on deaf ears. He was trying to end things, he really was. His want clashed with yours, the need to end things. Jayce just wanted you to not be in pain anymore, and that look in your eyes, the tense stance, pained breathing punishing sharply in the cavity of your chest – that confirmed it for him. 

But what was he becoming this time? (Man, or beast?) 

He couldn’t tell. 

A remaining constant rang true for him each and every time he was chained down in each memory, stone marble cracking in the face of your memory, he was almost beginning to forget what your face looked like. But that scream, it never left him. Your scream was the constant variable of which he experienced each and every time, and you almost always looked at him in fear.

Jayce hated that, he really hated that so much. Looked upon in unease, the sweat on your palms accumulating, and the trepidation rapidly beating in the confines of your ribcage; that heart of yours about ready to jump out, easily because of him. 

On that cobblestone floor, cracked by death and echoes of explosion. 

He couldn’t tell if you loved him–maybe as a friend–yet either way it was, once. He probably missed it, only looking past you right at others, Viktor, Mel, or even the face of the Hextech Gemstone. The way you were always so kind to greet him even if he didn’t remain a figure of importance in certain situations, you had always made an effort to include not only him, everyone else as well. You brought people together in a way he seldom noticed. But now that he was trapped in the belly of the beast, he thought about it more often. 

Jayce truly realized that you had. (But did he ever deserve it? He was beastly toward you often.) 

One step after the other, and he realized harshly–being brought back to the now. Something, or someone was far ahead of him. In this void of darkness, and even the occasion of the beautifully loud rainbow swarms, he had never come across someone real. So he began to rush forward, keeping a vice grip on his hammer. 

He choked out a shout, feeling his esophagus sore and weak. His body creaked, bones clicking against each other softly, and every which way he twisted himself — he could hear it. Jayce could clearly feel the way his joints had sanded, slowly creaking under the weight of herculean effort to press forward. 

The dull ache pressed in his chest, but he couldn't help the youth that springed him forward for a momentary transition in time.

A voice echoes, so strikingly similar to someone he holds dear. And he wonders if that was really the real deal, but he was easily proven wrong once the being speaks; “You must not fail, Jayce.”

Not Fail.

Must, not fail. The accursed organism had repeatedly told him that same mantra over and over again. He was pushed through the time lapse, and forced to relive the gruesome experience of being a human. The poor decisions made, the hope (and the false).

It was easily his driving force as he made it through the dark glowering of magicks that cursed his downfall, and the others around him. Jayce tried not to open his eyes as the sharp pains followed his limbs, intakes of breathing that punished him with every step he took. Yet it was sudden as he felt a ghostly touch impressed into his upper back, causing him to twitch, swerving his head nearly off the hinges as he looked to see whom the cause of the touch was. The crinkles beneath his eyes expressed clear frustration, as he was tricked once again. Jayce cursed himself mentally as he trudged forward, the onslaught of surprises resuming once again when the light gleamed – jarring as can be for a low fluorescent tone. He recapitulated his position, standing firmly into whatever ground there was irrespective of the pain. Jayce’s hands were worn with exhaustion, each and every ache screaming at him to fall down, rest. 

Imaginably he could, but he dared not too. (He couldn’t rest, not again.)

This was his last resort, he was not capable of letting it happen again. He needed to make sure nobody died, he needed to make sure it wasn’t out of bleeding, feeling cold. He knew it far too well, and he was going to make sure he was doing everything in his power to–

Oh wow. 

It was painful–painless–for a few moments, leaving him disoriented as he grunted, trying to accumulate to his new surroundings. He wondered where he was now, what would it show him next?

He blinks for a few moments, struggling to stand up as he supports his weight on the hammer. Inevitably cracking his neck, easing himself of the sore pains that riddled his neck and even the rest of his body. His leg was where it had really hurt for the matter, but no reason to worry, he was ready for whatever was gonna come next. 

“Jayce?” A gasp escapes his throat, ebbing it raw, his eyes blurring into clearness for the first time. He furrows his brow, attempting to get a clearer look at the source. The man was worn from battle–he tenses, fully rising to his height. 

(He heard a voice, and it was yours. Not an illusion, not a past memory. It was really that same cadence that not even the arcane could replicate.)

His throat bobs, churning with a burn that reminds him that he really is here. Where he had first disappeared in the first place, the accursed base of the HexGate facility. Jayce really, really had begun to hate HexTech. His eyes briefly scorn the intricate designs, almost weaved like the stories in tapestries. The stories were wrong, they always had been wrong. He should’ve listened to Heimerdinger, he should've listened to the professor. 

What was he doing?

Oh god.

“Is that you?” His eyes flicker back over to the one other person in the room, right in front of him. Jayce attempted—couldn’t—to look you in the eye, it was a difficult thing to do. His brows furrowed, a headache came to the forefront of his pain, and he closed his eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh–he was ashamed. 

Killing came so easy to him now, so why is this now any different?

Deciding to test the waters he quietly muttered your name, followed by a gentle greeting; “Hey.” Jayce murmurs, his bottom lip quivered for a moment.

You could see how cracked his lips were, and it made you almost worry for him. Of course, you should be. But you didn’t want to rush him, the way he had carried himself, you could see he was still far too tense and on edge. Both of you were thinking the same, worried about the other, still wanting to embrace each other–even so used to the touches of danger. It was in consideration, that made it all too painfully slow in this reunion. You nodded your head, taking a step forward. 

“You’ve been gone quite awhile,” You verbalized with a tilt of your head, gesturing about the length of his absence. “I was… worried.” He gave pause to your comment, a slight widening of his eyes as he lifted his gaze, albeit shortly enough to reach your torso. You looked different from what he remembered, just right there was enough to make him realize the passage of time. 

“How–I, how long have I been gone?” He internally winced at the way his voice sounded, his throat felt so sore. Jayce wasn’t sure himself, he felt it best to ask you. He understood that time had passed extensively, not how much for the matter, he felt it passing entirely differently during his time within the core of the arcane–whatever its physical being is. Something entirely reminiscent of a curse. He despised it so much for leaving you and the others without warning. But yet again, he hadn’t taken a step back to think about his words and actions, and how easily he could hurt others. Jayce knew better than that now, atleast. 

He could almost feel the hesitation radiating off of you, as if answering would be the end of all things. Jayce heaved a mournful breath, letting his eyes close. 

(Maybe it would, he wasn’t sure. Jayce didn’t want you to be afraid of him, is all.)

The room was cold, cold as the winter storm of the day he crossed paths with the arcane, he had almost forgotten that. Yet it was useless when he felt the warmth of something inexplicable touching his cheek, leathery he must feel. Jayce felt the way his skin hardened, the way his body tenses when he’s touched. But–that wasn’t the case here, no. 

A small gentle pad of the thumb swiped over the area, leaving him to open his eyes – inextricably locking gazes. Jayce was left surprised, almost recoiling for a split-moment. You kept a firm hold, your gaze all but gentle. Which was the last thing he expected, he searched any inch of your expression, and not once did your eyes falter in that interval of time. Jayce was tempted to stray away from your touch, every nerve in his being telling him to do so. However, it was something else that let him stay in the same position. That same stance, and he was unable to run away from it. 

Jayce grimaced, holding his head. Another episode, what he’s seen. Far too much of it, you concluded. 

He could see flashes of something unholy, far too close to the sun, or perhaps far too close to the moon. Jayce could see the debilitating deflections of creatures, something supernatural, the coarseness of rainbows. It was the way his lungs squeezed upon itself, twisting in a macabre manner of gestations that left him breathless for a meager few moments. You simply held him through it, and gently murmured, drawing his attention to you once more. Whatever he saw, it was the countless hours of death, it was inescapable. Blurry had it appeared to be once over, as he never wanted to recall the things he experienced. The last thing that had never been blocked out were those memories of you, dying over and over again, especially by his hands. It was in repetition that he blacked out so many times over, constantly finding himself in new arenas. Having to raise his hammer against someone else, seeing their blood splatter against the coldstone of the ground. Jayce wasn’t sure how he hadn’t–broken. 

It always felt far too real to him, he was sure it had. The heavy heart that corones his emotions, the way he acts. Probably in that alone that he had caused the deaths of so many innocents so many times, even for a different fabric in the space-fold of time, it still happened. Jayce didn’t want that to happen to you–not again–to anyone else. 

With the impossible decisions, and the road he had walked so far. There was nothing short of a future, or a dream for him anymore. He had to fight, even if that meant physically. Jayce knew there was something different in this life of his, he just wished this wasn’t the truth of it. He grieved it even, but he couldn’t truly be given time to process that. Life does not slow down for anyone, not even you, and not even him. One is only human after all, and you sure as hell make the most of it, the best you can, even if people may hate you for the smallest thing. It is innately the most human thing that truly makes each and every person kind, despite their supposed repugnant nature that makes mankind so infamous. 

“Jayce,” You murmured, a tone so soft, he didn’t deserve it. “Can you please look at me?” Almost to your whims, he felt so commanded. A rarity in such matters, that he didn’t mind it. Such a simple action, and it seemed so difficult though. But he tried, and succeeded. 

For the second time now, he locked eyes with you. His gaze was colored by bashfulness, leaving you to laugh. A tender touch, revering the inches of encroaching warmth that crawled back into his skin bit by bit. You breathed a puff of air, noting the cold atmosphere. 

‘He must’ve been cold before he came back out.’ You scrutinized the details for a moment, and considered how much time he spent. How long he went without proper warmth, the lack of temperature. Whatever or whomever it may have been that was his captor, you were glad he was finally freed for good, hopefully. You just were relieved that you could finally just see him, and know that he’s truly there (instead of just a delusion). Even if he appeared differently, he was still here. 

“I really did miss you.” You mentioned, seeing the flicker of surprise, surmising the life that brought back the color in his eyes. Less dull now, and far more colorful within the beautiful amber–almost had you wishing you could stay trapped in it forever. Not forever maybe, that would mean you’d never be face to face with him directly, like now, where you stood stronger than ever. As you were more than willing to be a pillar of support for the broken man, who you guess appeared to see so much, it nearly broke his mind. For the brief moment of pause, you could see his jaw tighten, as if he was contemplating something, but wary to air out the thought. 

He held the expectation that you would’ve been more fearful of him. Or at the very least angry, god knows he fully deserves that. 

Your brows tighten, almost wincing at the knot in your forehead. You’ve done that especially way too much lately, even since Jayce’s sudden disappearance. It was a question of your own, nothing short of anger, all it really was confusion. 

Jayce seemed to notice this, drawing you out of your short-lived predicament; “You… alright?” He muttered, somewhat hesitant to draw his hand over yours. He didn’t see himself deserving enough for that yet, not until he knew that it was by all rights okay with you. Only then you nodded to reassure him, biting the inside of your cheek as the moment passed. 

Finally garnering the courage to the breadth of your chest, “How… or why have you been gone so long?” Jayce simply looks at you with a half-unreadable expression, as if he had expected this question. One way or another, he was always going to be faced with such a question. After all, he had been trapped inside the palace of the arcane, a presumably long life-time of experiences; enough to age him noticeably. 

“I'll explain it,” He paused, a waver in his tone. “In time.” Jayce’s reluctance was more than easy to notice, so you nodded, not fully satisfied with the answer. But you had to wait for answers another time, there were reasonably far more important things to deal with right now. Whatever that may be considered. 

So you opted for a hug (entirely and completely out of the blue).

The affectionate gesture, which could mean many things, surprised him. He didn’t count for this happening—it made his knees buckle, the weight hounding you to fall with him. Even with the vice grip he previously held on the handle. He let go of his hammer, wanting and using both arms to just utterly hug you back with the whole of his heart, and he was fulfilled. Nose buried in the crook of your neck, it was filled with your scent. Your own hold on him didn’t vacillate at all–which in retrospect–it gave way to a level of solace he never felt before. 

He tightened his hold on you, a silent way of giving thanks, if nothing else. You were glad, happy even that he accepted your inhibited sudden gesture. 

You leaned back, slowly but surely, just to check that Jayce wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a failure however [as good as you were at reading expressions], there was naught a hint of it at all. You tilted your head, eliciting a soft laugh from the man. 

‘Mission successful!’ 

His soft laughter elicited a pavlovian response from you, leaving you to move your hands, cradling his face with both hands once again. Anything and everything seemed to fall short around you, for the long while you began to realize, lord you were far from attached to the thought however. His brows furrowed with a small grin, still finding it somewhat amusing with your subtle acts of nature. In spite of what preceded, the decedent time of passing made him begin to freeze. 

Color began creeping up against the patches of his skin that crawled from the beginning of his mandible, nape of the neck, and now up to the cheek bones. Expression faltering. (“Hey, uh…”) He tried to muster, but despite that, it fell on deaf ears. Your gaze made him hot, and he was always on the fence on whether or not how he should react. Jayce wasn’t sure how to handle it really, cause you look at him as if he was all that was there in the room. The spark of motivation behind your learning, or even the nights and transitions of time where you listen to him talk about what makes him so inspired. Of course, he always made the effort to do the same, but it had made him wonder if you felt so similarly. 

Yet, when he allowed his overthinking to fester, never bringing it up, he was afraid and just simply decided to not ask about it at all. Jayce was always a bit afraid about these things, but with what he's been through, he fears this may be the first and last time he’s allowed to see you. 

With that being his driving force, how his heart raced, it gave him a burst of confidence. Jayce lowered his left hand to your hip, the other to holding your face. His eyes were soft, brows raised as if he were asking. It was first and foremost, but his heart continued to beat right up against the cavity of his chest. 

There was a flicker of astonishment gleaming in your eyes, but it slowly disappeared, as if you ascertained what he was wanting, and frankly you found it sweet that he had asked for your permission. Nonetheless, you were more than delighted to oblige with his request. 

Warmth blossomed exuberant in his chest, as if fireworks were being set off. The sensation it ignited in him was soulful. A first tentative brush, then a second time, more sure than ever now. Jayce’s breathing almost labored when he pulled back, and he could figure the same for you. In a way, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders by such a simple act of love. Even with the moments passing, the two of you leaned against one another, relishing in the feeling that heightened your tension. 

Though it did wear off quickly enough. 

Jayce watched with patience of a thousand men as you leaned back, re-adjusting yourself as you spoke. And wasn’t it ever the truth. 

“If you’ve done that earlier, then i probably wouldn’t even be here right now.” You remarked, causing him to laugh quietly. 

(No shit.)

He should’ve done this sooner.

[junebugsarchive]

Hi june, your written is amazing!

If it fine with you can you do jealous yamazaki shingen or jealous park jonggun?

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍 . yamazaki shingen x reader

summary: shingen and gun become jealous when a little boy musters the courage to ask you to marry him

pairing: yamazaki shingen x reader . platonic! gun park x reader

details: reader replaces somi park . ooc shingen . bro is whipped for you . gun's a little menace to society . reader gets a little suggestive . teensy subtle mention of amputation . anon ask . all banners used are from @cafekitsune . all pictures used are from pinterest

a/n: i've always wanted to write something for shingen there's just something ab tall, brooding men turning into putty just for you 😋 enjoy babes! did a mix of both for u anon, my pookies didn't deserve anything that happened to them. spoiler alert: i blame the midwife. i hate her. also sorry if u were expecting something more serious, i don't see shingen being the type to venture in public unless it's to stalk you

yamazaki shingen does not get jealous. or at least, that's what he tells himself. jealousy, like any other emotion, is considered a weakness, and a weakness is something his countless foes will immediately grab on to once they catch sight of it, his father always told him.

he had learned to shut off his emotions a long time ago, ever since his embarrassing defeat against the famed gapryong kim from south korea. however he allows himself to have one simple weakness, despite his father and brother's disagreements, and that was you.

his darling, most treasured wife out of the ten women chosen just for him. you beauty shone through the others, and your quick-witted mind and equally sharp tongue was a stark contrast to the other women that only wished to survive in this cold, unfamiliar place.

shingen adored you. he favoured you, and that much was shown when he allowed you to keep your pinky, much to the displeasure of his brother. he gave you a strong and healthy boy with odd eyes, whom you proudly named gun, and treasured with your life.

shingen cherished you, anybody could tell. but do you love him too? this was a six-year question he never got the courage to ask.

which is why he is unsure of what to feel when he secretly follows you and your five year old son out of the compound and to a nearby public playground, and he sees a young boy bashfully coming up to you and showing a bouquet of wildflowers he had collected.

an odd feeling bubbles in his gut as he watches you smile warmly at the boy, patting his head with a gloved hand, gently taking the bouquet, complimenting it as you admired the flowers. nonsense. even shingen could make a better bouquet than that little brat could (he's lying) to give to you.

"what are you doing here?" shingen pauses in his train of thoughts, looking down, only to see his five year old son standing beside him with a blank look on his face, hands in his pockets. he wasn't even looking at the clan leader, merely staring unblinkingly at you in the distance.

the yamazaki head merely grunts, turning back around to watch you interact with the young boy. the little brat was getting bolder and bolder, daring to grab your hands in his grubby little paws and dancing around with you.

the father and son stood by the side, unnervingly identical blank dark eyes glued onto you, watching you interact with the child, and any passerby walking past them would have had to blink and rub their eyes, wondering if they were seeing doubles.

shingen spares a glance down at gun, and feels somewhat amused by how entranced his son was with you. truly, he thinks to himself as he returns his gaze to you. he is truly too much like his father.

he feels that same, odd feeling fluttering in his stomach as he watches the little beast motion for you to lean down, and braves a small peck against your cheek. the kid's face explodes in a fine assortment of red colours as the other children laugh and cheer, clearly entertained by this boy's foolishness. shingen watches as you merely smile at him and ruffle his hair, not saying a word.

to anybody watching, shingen and gun looked the same as before, but if they looked closer – really looked closer, they would see the exact same crease in between their eyebrows as their gazes became sharper, trained onto the boy.

shingen feels disheartened. why was it so simple for a young child you barely knew to kiss you on the cheek? he had been watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to give you a lil smooch, but each time you seemed to read his intentions and kept your distance.

shingen was frustrated. what was he doing wrong?

"MARRY ME!" the impudent little boy suddenly shouts, with flushed cheeks and a makeshift ring, made out of a little daisy he'd found.

immediately, both shingen and gun's head snaps towards him, death threats running through their minds. oh hell no.

meanwhile, you gave the poor, oblivious boy an awkward smile, extremely floored by the situation. poor kid, did he even know what he was getting himself into? by the looks of his expectant expression and hopeful eyes, clearly not. you clear your throat and open your mouth, ready to spout some bullshit, but someone else beats you to it.

"there you are, dear." you jump slightly in surprise as a deep voice murmurs in your ear, thick, strong arms snaking around your waist as your husband magically appears by your side, resting his chin on your collarbone, letting his hot breath fan your skin.

the little boy stares at shingen with a mix of indignation and fear. "w-who are you?!" he stutters out, and you had to admire his courage.

"i'm her husband." was shingen's immediate reply, and your eyes widen slightly to here the subtle pride in his voice.

the boy frowns. "no you're not! i'm gonna marry her, not you!" you sweatdrop slightly as the two males exchange heated looks – well, at least the boy's was heated, shingen looked purely amused, though you swore there was a tinge of annoyance that flashed through his eyes, though you could never telk what was running through that man's mind.

but unfortunately for the boy, he forgot that there was another formidable enemy headed right for them.

"kaa-san, is this shrimp bothering you?" your son smoothly steps in, gaze calm yet predatory as he looks down upon the inferior boy before him.

the little boy's eyes widen in fear as he recognizes gun, as do the children watching them with bated breath. "it's the playground demon!" a girl shrieks, and all the children flee in different directions, screaming their heads off, even your ever-so-valiant pursuer.

you chuckle a little, and sinply offer a loving pat on gun's head, who looks up at you with the same blank look, though your smile widens as you notice a fervent and soft tinge in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

shingen watches the exchange, feeling strangely out of place. he stiffens a little as you turn towards him, a gentle, yet unreading smile on your face.

out of courtesy, shingen wordlessly offers his arm, to which you accept, your other hand holding on to gun's tinier palm as the three of you begin your walk home.

"i noticed you'd followed my son and i here, lord yamazaki." shingen shows no reaction as your clear voice cuts through the awkwardness. he remains quiet for a few seconds, before turning to look down at you straight in the eyes.

"yes," he replies bluntly, and watches as you blink up at him, taken aback, clearly expecting him to dodge the question. your walls quickly rise as they had fallen, and your smile is quickly plastered back on.

"oh my, whatever for?" you chuckle as you continue your journey, and your voice turns teasing. "were you jealous, then? watching that little boy ask for my hand in marriage?"

"yes."

"ah, i expected-" you pause, and turn to stare at him disbelievingly. "...pardon?"

you weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely was not for the man beside you to avert his dark eyes, almost in embarrassment, suddenly looking like a kicked puppy. "are you... upset i interrupted?"

"how could i ever be?" and it's shingen's turn to be taken aback at how soft and genuine you sounded, it almost made him flinch in shock. "you are... my husband." you say quietly, ears tinged red.

a few more seconds of awkward silence pass, before the little gremlin decided to interrupt. "kaa-san, can you carry me?" gun asks blankly, stopping to raise his arms in your direction.

you smile, immediately taking your hand out of shingen's grasp, and the yamazaki clan leader is left with an unexplicable void in his heart as he watches you lift your child in your arms, smiling fondly at him as you continued walking.

suddenly, you stop and whirl around, smiling at shingen. and he realizes, with a start, that this was the first genuine smile he has ever received from you. and he loved it.

"it seems i have been neglecting my marital duties as a wife to my lovely husband," you hum, almost teasingly, a suggestive glint in your eyes. "i shall be visiting your bedchambers tonight, lord yamazaki."

warmth spreads through shingen's chest, and he allows the slightest of smiles to creep onto his face.

"i would love that too... my wife." and he takes a step, then another, and another, until he was directly in front of you. you beam up at him, and your little family walks home together.

yamazaki shingen loves you, and he's willing to wait however long needs be and make a fool of himself as many times as he has to for you to smile like that at him once more.

extra:

"kaa-san, i was jealous that little imbecile asked to marry you just now. can you visit my bedchambers too?" gun suddenly questions, and you let out a small laugh at his funny request.

"silly boy, i do that every night." you hum in amusement, gently tapping his nose as you spoke.

"kaa-san, i meant you should visit my bedchambers and not my father's."

"..." you sweatdrop as the father and son exchange blank looks that conveyed malicious threats and murderous intent.

[aebinspa]

meant to be

PAIRING: karina x y/n reader

SUMMARY: Your life couldn’t have been worse. You aspired to make a living as a photographer, but instead, you found yourself working in a fast-food restaurant alongside a colleague who rarely offered you any good company. Everything changed when the famous model Karina showed up at your workplace. After a few days, she managed to convince the editorial team to hire you as the photographer for her photoshoot. However, your career faced another threat when Karina pressured you to assist her with a strictly confidential operation.

GENRES: angst, lies, loneliness, we will face suffering in this life, but eventually, things will improve, and we will start over again and again, fluff at the end.

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i'm not cut out for writing long stories. i went crazy countless times while writing this one :)) i added a little bit every day and it made the story more confusing. the next five things I write will be fluff, no more angst for a while + thank you for all the support you have shown for what i wrote. i am extremely grateful and happy that someone was able to appreciate them!

Life didn't end when you lost all your friends because of bad choices, didn't know where to put your hands, or stopped recognizing yourself in what you did and said. Life didn't end when you turned twenty. At least that's what you told yourself every morning to convince yourself to get up, when even what had previously seemed sensible lost all meaning.

In the eyes of your parents and your old friends, you had remained imprinted as a sour girl, difficult to manage but who, beyond some character problems, had always shown herself willing to help. Never to be helped. Perhaps this had a powerful impact. In your daily life, no one asked how you were in the morning. Was it more difficult for others to reach out to you and always receive a refusal or was it more difficult for you now to be alone, without anyone? And yet loneliness had always been so dear to you; a space where you could truly be yourself.

After trying to attend political science university for a few months and failing the first exam, you soon realized that it wasn't for you. The only luck was having met a girl who, between one lesson and another, had introduced you to the world of photography.

In photography, you discover a kind of joy that you could share. Often others would ask you for photos and you, with a big smile, couldn't wait to take one. Of course, everything got complicated when you had to come to terms with reality. There was no longer just photography, you also had to think about earning some money.

That's how you ended up working at a fast food restaurant that was open all day and, with the constant fear of running out of money at any moment, you signed up for all the night shifts. Someone had set you up by telling you that they paid more, but only when your first paycheck arrived did you realize that your dear colleague only wanted to get rid of the difficult shifts.

That night, you and Sunwoo, the beloved colleague who had actually made fun of you a few years earlier, were at the counter of the fast food restaurant busy playing UNO. It was more than rare to see customers at two in the morning.

“UNO!” Sunwoo shouted at the top of his lungs. “Fuck you, asshole! I’m tired and you dare win my favorite card game!” you threw the remaining cards of the deck off the counter. Sunwoo huffed and, with an agile leap, got off the counter and went to retrieve the poor cards that were now lying on the floor that was far too clean for the hygiene standards of the place where you worked. “It’s the only card game you know how to play, Y/n”

It was cold outside. A cold that froze the bones. Your winter uniforms didn’t warm you enough and the heating had suddenly stopped working the day before. Sunwoo didn't let it show, but he hated working more than you did. He had a dream more ambitious than yours and unfortunately, every door was closed in his face. The fast food place where he worked with you was the daily confirmation that failure was a constant in his life. And you were experiencing the same situation first-hand.

Sometimes photography gave you work, but you couldn't eat from it. Small jobs are undoubtedly formative, but not appealing to the taste of those big companies that looked at your disastrous portfolio.

While Sunwoo began to sweep the clean floor, you, lost in your thoughts, froze, feelinglessly staring at the street you looked at every night. Suddenly, you saw a black limousine approaching, and, scared that someone important might be there, you shook Sunwoo’s arm and pointed to the car. His eyes widened as well.

But to your surprise, the first person to step out of the car was a man in a tuxedo who then proceeded to open the back door facing the fast-food restaurant. A girl of medium height came out, wearing a black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. When she was closer to the door, you immediately noticed, illuminated by the decadent lights of the place where you were, that she had heavy makeup on her face that beautifully framed her eyes.

The young raven-haired girl sat on the stool in front of the counter. Sunwoo was still speechless. He could only mutter a shy, unprofessional “Ah, hi,” to which the girl responded with a sweet smile. Her gaze shifted to you and you flinched.

“Can I order?” she reached out to grab the menu Sunwoo had sat on earlier. “I guess so.” “The menu with the fattest, greasiest, biggest sandwich you have, please.” Sunwoo snatched the menu out of her hands and shouted “Right away!”, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving you in front of the girl. Outside, you noticed her date glaring at you.

“Not many customers come by, do they?” “We don’t usually see anyone. That’s why your visit surprised us a lot” The girl laughed in a strangely loud way. Strange, I thought she was more composed. “God, please. We will be more or less the same age, don't be so formal,” she wiped her hands on her dress laughing, and then looked at you ready to shake your hand “I'm Karina. It’s a stage name. I model full-time."

You shook hands with her, apologizing for how cold and greasy it might feel. “Well, I… I work here.” The girl smiled at you. “And do you like working here?” “What?”

Sunwoo came with Karina’s order and placed it before her, avoiding her gaze. When he crossed yours, you noticed that the boy had red cheeks. I whispered something to you but you didn’t understand.

It’s been too long since someone asked you what it was like to live a life you no longer wanted. Your mouth dried up and you were unable to answer. Karina shrugged and began eating the sandwich undisturbed.

With her mouth still full from the bite she had just taken, the model opened up to speak. It was evident she was nothing like the stereotype of a typical model; her authenticity was refreshing. Feeling overwhelmed, you moved two stools away from the client, seeking a bit of distance as you listened, intrigued by her unique charm.

"You took those, didn’t you?" Karina found it difficult to eat that part, but she couldn’t help but examine the few decorations in the fast-food restaurant. "Ah, those pictures," you turned your entire body to look at them. "Yes, I took all of them. They’re from our customers who left a special tip." "Special tip?" Karina asked, intrigued. "Yes, for a change of $4, you receive a Polaroid and agree to have it displayed on this wall. It’s not worth much, though, because I’m required to take two pictures for the price of one."

"They are all very pretty. I know some people." "There are a lot of people passing by. Sometimes they tell you their story, take a picture, and then leave, never to return. It’s almost as if-" "Romantic, yes" Karina finished the sentence for you, to your great surprise.

The silence that was created afterward was strangely comfortable. For someone like you who was always uncomfortable when she met strangers, the situation was quite strange. Karina, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease as she was happily humming and chewing at the same time. When the crow finished eating, she got up from her stool, stretched her arms, and put ten euros on the counter.

"Please don't make me change." "Pardon?" "I would like one of those photos. I'm looking forward to experiencing this too." What enthusiasm!

You took the Polaroid and waited for the young woman to pose before taking the picture. Karina made a big heart with her arms and gave you a wink. She is truly a model… "Are you done?" "Done!"

Karina approached you, then stood behind you and waited for the Polaroid to be ready. When she was ready, the girl screamed full of joy. You smiled unconsciously. "I love it, thank you!" she leaned it delicately on the counter and then turned quickly towards you, continuing to talk. "Let’s take the other one! Let’s do it together. Where is that boy? Boy! Boy! Ehiii!" Sunwoo ran out of the kitchen alarmed. "What- what happened?" "Nothing, Sunwoo" You put your hand on your forehead. "Can you take a picture of us? So we can hang it there." Sunwoo looked for your eyes but you avoided him, unable to explain. At which the boy approached the polaroid and urged you to pose. Karina chose the same place where all the other clients had been, saying she would keep the theme, and invited you to place yourself next to her.

Karina was a little taller than you, maybe a few centimeters, but in your eyes there seemed to be a huge difference. You stood closer to her to form the heart and pretended a smile of convenience to allow Sunwoo to take this photo. The proximity to the model sent a bizarre sensation creeping along your spine. Intrigued, you paused to take a closer look at her. In that moment, when no one else was watching, the radiant smile she had worn so confidently faded entirely from her face. Her eyes, once sparkling with warmth, now seemed overshadowed by a deep, unsettling darkness that only amplified her presence. Without warning, the model turned her gaze toward you, her lips curving into a wide grin that revealed a perfect set of thirty-two gleaming teeth. A chill swept over you, wrapping around your body like an icy blanket, leaving you momentarily breathless and disoriented. What the fuck?

"You did such a great job, girls. It's rare for Y/n!" You woke up from the nightmare of falling and responded to Sunwoo with a raised middle finger. "Oh, she's got quite an attitude. I need to leave," Karina said, finally letting go of you after holding you tightly. That girl was beginning to stir strange feelings in you. "The photo turned out just fine. Let me sign it and put the date on it. Come on!" Sunwoo timidly passed the Polaroid to the girl and watched her do everything she said.

With your arms folded you waited for her comfortable finish. Karina approached the corkboard and put your Polaroid on it. He smiled at her and turned, heading for the exit.

"Y/n!" Hearing your name pronounced by the model, you turned to her with an interrogative look. "Tell me" "See you!" and ran off into the limo, leaving behind a trail of expensive perfume and a cheap Polaroid.

That night passed faster than expected and Sunwoo told you - with attached photos - how this fantastic Karina was one of the most popular models in recent years. Besides being beautiful, she was about to debut in the cinema world. The moon was full and the cold was more bitter than usual. An uncomfortable feeling was in your chest, but you let it pass.

While you were going to work the next day, you took some pictures at the illuminated windows of that night. One of the projects you had since moving to that city was to create a collection of photos showing nightlife, although it was difficult to call it "life", of the traders, workers, or people just going out for fun. But you didn’t have enough prestige and money.

When you arrived at work, you greeted Sunwoo coldly, who returned. You worked hard until three in the morning because, as you well know, on Saturday mornings there were waves of guys full of life coming back from bars where they had only drunk, or from discos in the area. You found it a good opportunity to take some pictures for your photo project.

In no time at all it was six o'clock. The sun was beginning to rise and the first rays of sunshine came through the large windows of the structure. You and Sunwoo were getting ready for the end of the shift, but the boy seemed particularly agitated so you told him to leave before you. You would have waited for the other girl to give her the keys and start the shift after. Sunwoo thanked you and ran away. You knew how much he cared about his passion.

The sound of the door creaking open cut through the stillness of the room, jolting you from your thoughts. You glanced at the clock on the wall, your brow furrowing as you noted it was already twenty minutes past the time your colleague was supposed to arrive. Just as you were about to call out, "You’re lat—" your words caught in your throat. Standing in the doorway was not your expected colleague, but the enigmatic man who had accompanied Karina the night before. He stood there, an air of mystery surrounding him, his presence both intriguing and unsettling as he caught your eye.

"How can I help you?" you asked, even though you were pressed for time and the only one in the room. "I was looking for you. It was lucky that I found you right away," the other person replied. You tightened your grip on the broom you had been pretending to sweep with just moments before. "For what purpose?" you inquired.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp white card, sliding it across the table to you. You glanced down to see a neatly printed address alongside the name: Vogue, Karina’s Photoshoot. Confusion washed over you as you looked back up at him. "What does this mean?" you asked. He shifted uneasily, avoiding your gaze. "Miss Karina has requested that you oversee her new photoshoot," he explained, his tone heavy with discomfort. "The previous photographer was let go… rather abruptly. I expect you to be at the studio in two days."

Your hands shook as you faced a big opportunity. You nodded slowly, your mouth half open, unsure what to say. The man smiled and walked away, leaving you stunned. The broom fell from your hands and clattered to the floor. Your knees felt weak, and your mind went blank for a moment. You couldn’t think. You wondered how powerful Karina was and what she wanted from you.

The next day you showed up in the hall of the huge palace, waiting fearlessly for someone to come and call you. You had spent the night before reading and browsing photography books or looking at random palettes that could help you match any clothing you found on Karina.

A tall woman approached you slowly, her expression grim as she pointed to a location on the map she had just tossed at you. What a kindness… You quickly walked toward the meeting place and, upon finding the door, opened it carefully. Inside, a crew of about twenty people turned their curious gazes toward you, along with Karina and her manager.

You slowly approached your collaborators and thanked them timidly for their attention. "We will do everything that needs to be done and we will accomplish it together. All we should do is unite everyone’s ideas and give life to some of the most beautiful photos ever made" Karina, sitting in a velvet chair, put her hand in front of her and laughed candidly.

It didn’t take five hours to create everything that needed to be created. The ideas came from everyone like a river in full flow. Fill a room with artists who are also competitive people and you will get the exact personification of an erupting volcano. You were the Vesuvius and the fashion industry was your Pompeii. The next day you swore to finish the project so that you could go on with the production of the photos.

Karina, who should have been bored at least by having spent the day waiting for others to do their jobs, approached you with a remarkable delicacy and touched your shoulder. "Can you come over there?" Karina pointed to a closet nearby; it was her dressing room. "Uhm, sure" There was no reason to say no. You looked over your shoulder before entering the dressing room with the girl with the brown hair. It was the first time you saw her in a suit and all you could think about was how well she wore anything. It must be nice.

Karina invited you to sit in the two-seater chair with her. Hesitantly, you approached and sat face to face with the girl who flashed a smile revealing thirty-two teeth. "I brought you here because—" You interrupted her before she could finish. "Let’s say you fired the photographer from Vogue so I could come here." "An insignificant detail," she replied.

In Karina's eyes, you saw the same darkness you had observed a few days earlier. It made you hesitant to speak, fearing the words wouldn't come out right. "You must help me," she said. "Why should I?" you asked. Karina rose from her chair and stood in the middle of the room, her expression unreadable as she continued to gaze at you.

"You must. And if you don’t, I’ll take the only real opportunity you’ve got in your miserable life off your hands." "What’s the excuse?" the conversation seemed too much for you, so you immediately put yourself on defense. "You are a beautiful girl, you are good at what you do. I like your photos, I am sincere" "But?"

The frigid air enveloped the room, wrapping around you like an unwelcome shroud, making each breath feel laborious and strained. With every second that passed, a chilling sensation crept through your body, as if the very warmth within you was being siphoned away, leaving you increasingly vulnerable to the oppressive cold.

“You must photograph the emerging actress and model Yuna at a moment that could cause a scandal and ruin her career forever.” “This is fucking crazy,” you jumped up and approached Karina, who didn’t move an inch “I’m leaving, I don’t intend to keep this job and do whatever bullshit you came up with. I knew you were crazy, I understood it immediately"

Karina rolled her eyes, grabbed your arm, and pushed you into the seat. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m capable of destroying your present life and your future life. Be careful what you do. Listen to me and calm down” Karina’s hands were extremely cold but your gaze was even more icy.

“Speak then, cheap model” “It will all be anonymous. Become her friend and her photographer. You have one week. The clock runs out before the day you have to send the completed photoshoot to the Vogue editorial office” “It’s called blackmail” “It’s called seizing opportunities. You won’t get them again”

You looked away for a moment before getting up from your chair and moving back to the center of the room. You walked back and forth, occasionally glancing at Karina.

“They’ll kill me anyway when they realize it’s me” “Don’t worry,” Karina stood up to get closer to you, “We’ll use an external computer and no one will ever know” “A person will be involved, I don’t think I’m capable of it” “She won’t die” Karina had an amused grin on her face.

You thought back to Sunwoo and how he loved what he did like no one else. However, the most selfish part of you had surfaced. You wanted to pursue a career in photography, and you were unconcerned about the people who would be affected by your ambition. You would have done anything to make your dream a reality.

“I’m in” You held out your hand to Karina, surprised by your sudden change of heart. When Karina squeezed your hand you noticed it was as cold as yours. And that perhaps you were more similar than you could have imagined.

You never imagined that the next day you would find yourself taking pictures of the woman who had asked you to ruin the life of another model without remorse. You had discovered that all your collaborators considered Karina a sweet, kind, and always available girl, while in your eyes, every time you looked at her, you felt like you were looking at a monster.

Once the photoshoot was over and, therefore, the work you had to do for Vogue, you walked into the Karaoke where Karina had asked you to meet. The room was insolently small - maybe the girl liked everything smaller - and the nauseating smell made you immediately understand what kind of dump it was.

“Don’t you like it here?” asked Karina, who was cross-legged and munching on some chips, which she offered you and you refused. “It’s pretty disgusting” “It’s okay. We won’t be here long”

Karina took her Gianni Chiarini bag and pulled out three photos. One was of Yuna, the other of a girl you couldn’t identify, and in the last photo, there was you.

“What does that mean?” “Yuna is having an affair with this girl.” Karina touched the face print of the girl whose name you didn’t know with her painted nail and then continued. “In case you didn’t understand, your photo is there because I wanted to let you know that I had you followed a week before I showed up at your place of work by a trusted friend of mine.” “What?” you were visibly shocked. “Don’t worry, honey. I will only use the information I have on you if you don’t cooperate.” A disturbing smile made you doubt her sincerity.

“Why are you so mad at this girl?” “Because she can’t keep what’s hers.” “What does that mean translated…?” Karina huffed and put the photos back in her bag. “We grew up in this industry together. We achieved success together. And then she cheated on me.”

You were stunned. “All this just because he didn't hold your hand throughout the journey of your life? Are you crazy-” “She cheated on me countless times. She told my parents that I’m a lesbian, they haven’t spoken to me since that day. And to top it all off, she stopped me from working for a year, taking away the most important collaboration of my life”

You almost felt sorry, but you didn’t say anything. Her eyes radiated something else. Maybe she too was human and was simply tired.

“Become her new fuck buddy. Treat her well and then you can be sure that you’ll end up finding her making out with someone else. Take as many pictures as you can and you’ll be free forever” “I don’t- Who told you I like women?” “My dear friend” “God, fuck Karina” “Um, maybe this collaboration will lead to something good?”

You looked up in shock and found a rather smiling Karina. “Do you start talking about sex when you're done talking about revenge? You’re crazy.” “I can’t help it if revenge turns me on like crazy.” Karina slowly ran her tongue over her upper lip, while you looked at her with wide eyes.

“Are you really… My god, you do this to everyone?” “Everyone who? You’re probably the last woman in three years that I’ve found truly attractive!” You rested your face on the fist you’d created with your right hand.

“Do you feel lonely?” Karina looked at you intently and nodded, gently moving her head. “Me too. That’s why I’ll help you. I see reflected in your eyes the same sadness that I feel." That's what it was.

“Y/n” “Tell me” “Do a good job” “I’ll try”

Karina finished all the chips that were left on the table, while you looked at her intently and prayed that the day you would meet Yuna would never come.

Unexpectedly, you received a call the next day: a very familiar voice invited you to participate in a graphic project that involved twenty different photographers who would take pictures of Yuna during a typical month of hers at the beach. Fans are certainly crazy to buy this, but it's all for the career, right?

Your first encounter with Yuna was ordinary. Where normal means you were struck by how tall and beautiful she was, even though Karina had gotten you used to it well. Yuna walked over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/n, right? I saw some photos of your portfolio and I loved them. The way you capture what's around is extremely sincere. Thank you for accepting. I am eternally grateful”

Yuna was warm. You noticed it immediately. Her body temperature had nothing to do with Karina's. Yuna's smile, moreover, really showed a sincere kindness. The photos you took were delicate, beautiful, and… real. But you remembered what Karina had told you and quickly came to your senses.

You spent two days taking photographs for one of the most beloved women in the world - that's what the charts said - and on the last evening, Yuna and her manager dragged all twenty of you to a pub.

Yuna, clearly drunk, stood up on a chair and started screaming. “Thank you! You were amazing! This project will come out amazing. Now let’s get our glasses up, we have to celebrate!” As everyone downed a few glasses of beer, you noticed a familiar face looking sweetly at Yuna. It was her girlfriend. You asked the boy next to you to switch seats and, perhaps nodding his head, he permitted you.

"Hi, I'm Y/n" "Ah, nice to meet you, I'm Haseul! Yuna showed me your photos. They're beautiful, congratulations" How cute, I almost feel sorry for using her like that. "I see you're looking at Yuna with sweet eyes… Is there something underneath?" the little laugh you let out right after should have helped break the tension, but it only made it grow even more. Haseul wiped the sweat on her pants and then spoke to you.

"I love her more than anyone else in the world" Ah. "It must be nice to love someone" You ran a hand uncomfortably behind your neck. "It's nice to have someone by your side. We're almost always together. I only have her. After what Yuna went through last year, she's become even stronger" A strong curiosity grew in you.

"What happened to her?" "Her ex-girlfriend cheated on her, Yuna found out and told her parents to shoot her an arrow that would cause her the same pain" "That's not possible" "Plus Yuna lost a very important job with Saint Laurent. She spent sleepless nights because of Karin-" Haseul quickly covered her face with her hands.

"Karina. Are you sure it was her fault?" "Ask anyone you want. She lied to everyone and messed up half the plans of people here just to go out and cheat on her girlfriend. Everyone hates her. She's just a pretty face in this industry"

Your head started to spin, maybe from drinking too much alcohol. “I’m going to get some fresh air!” “Shall I accompany you?” “It doesn’t matter, thanks.”

Outside, on the side of an empty road, you threw up next to a dumpster. Karina had been lying to you. She was evil, she was crazy, and a total dickhead. Everyone knew it but you. Because you had been a normal person until the week before. You had seen the surface, never what was underneath.

You understood that Karina would treat you like Yuna. You understood that the only solution would be to refuse, but your career was at stake.

Yuna came out and walked over to you. “I’m sorry you found out. I know everything. Karina isn’t the only one who can spy on people without being accused.” “Do you know everything?” “From the stupid meeting at the fast food restaurant to the job opportunities she offered you. Her dear friend, aka her manager, is Shin Yuna here’s dearest friend.”

You looked into her eyes. “I’ll have to… No, hurt you. I don’t want to.” I wanted to, but now I don’t want to anymore. “It doesn’t matter. Do it.” “How could I?” Haseul came closer to the two of you. “You can’t hurt us. When you find someone in life who loves you, life has a whole different meaning.”

The cold suddenly hit you. And, strangely, you thought for a second that those two were crazy. “Yuna would lose her job,” you continued “But I will never lose the people I love. And anyway,” Yuna put her arm around Haseul’s waist, “I won’t be in this industry for long.”

Haseul looked you in the eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry.”

As you made your way home, your eyes caught the massive posters of Karina that adorned the streets yet, beneath your admiration, a swirl of conflicting emotions surged inside you; you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was not only a bit unpredictable but also a master of deception. Despite all that, you felt an undeniable urge to kiss her.

The karaoke seemed more rotten than usual. Karina didn’t seem to belong there at all. The last day, the decisive one, had now arrived. You sat down, like the last time, in front of the raven-haired girl.

“Hi, Y/n. I see you well. How are you?” “Better than you can imagine” “My ears only want to hear good news”

You took her usual bag of chips from her hands and started munching on them. “What do you think of your modeling job?” “I hate it” Karina, to your surprise, answered without even thinking for a second. “Why?” “There is no sincerity in what I do. But it is the only job that puts me in contact with hundreds of people a week. It makes me feel less alone”

You put the chips on the table and took out the incriminating photos. “Yuna and Haneul, as you asked me and here I have,” you took out the USB stick, “the murder weapon!” Karina looked at you with wide eyes. “Did you… Do it?” “Your charm won me over, unfortunately, I have to admit it” Even though You were ironic, Karina's cheeks turned pink.

Karina pulled out a computer without making eye contact with you. Then she ordered you to open it. In front of your eyes was a fairly famous site where you were supposed to upload incriminating photos of Yuna and Haseul.

“Y/n. I have to tell you something" As you wrote the description of the photos you would publish immediately after, you signaled Karina to continue.

“Maybe it's because I haven't felt someone's affection for a long time, maybe it's because I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore without crying but…” “After Karina, after” “You said…” “Let me talk”

Seeing Karina so vulnerable and with teary eyes made you feel guilty, but what you wanted to do you would have done without complaining. Karina, however, seemed ready to let go of everything, to take a decisive step.

“Karina, kiss me” “Why should I do that? Are you crazy?” “Last time you seemed intent on doing much more!” you raised your voice. “If I kiss you it’s only because I want to show you how I feel!”

You both were incredibly close. The intensity of the conversation had drawn you from the karaoke sofas, and now you stood face to face, the air feeling thick between you. Karina was the first to make a move. She reached behind your neck, gripped your hair tightly, and swallowed hard. You didn't want to initiate the kiss; you wanted her to take the lead. And that’s exactly what she did. Karina leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, but the kiss was tentative, almost shy. She clearly wanted you to respond, but you held back. The kiss ended before it truly began.

“Why?” she asked, embarrassed. You, in response, checked your phone and went back to finishing the article on the computer. You connected your phone to the computer and transferred the photos.

“What about the USB stick?” “I’ll give it to you as soon as I’m finished”

Five minutes passed before you closed the computer. The die was cast. And so is your life and Karina's. There was no turning back, in any way.

“Y/n?” “Done” “Good…” Karina grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself. You did the same.

“Why did you lie to me?” “What are you talking about, Y/n? “Tell me the truth. Haseul and Yuna told me everything. I also spoke to other colleagues. All the same version. You’re a liar, Karina.”

Karina looked back at you with a blank stare. “And what are you?” “That’s not the point.” Karina slammed her fist on the table. “From everything they told you, did you only understand that I’m a liar?” “How can I trust you, Karina?”

Karina hugged the blanket and started biting her nails. "You know when I'm lying. You can feel it. You know when I’m not natural. I understood immediately when we met that there was a different connection between us." “Do you say that to everyone?” “You’re not funny, Y/n!” Karina screamed and threw the bag of chips in your direction, making a mess in the room.

“It’s not funny to make fun of people. You used me.” “I didn’t!” “So what did you do, Karina? How would you call what you did?” “I tried to keep you as close as possible… I don’t have anyone. Yuna wanted to leave me and I had sex with someone else the next day! Our relationship was over.” “People can’t love you if you pretend to be someone else.” “Everyone abandoned me. They abandoned me when I pretended to be the sweet and kind Karina and when I was the real Karina!”

Karina seemed to have reached a point of no return, but you could do nothing but pity her. Now you just had to tell her your truth.

“Karina, listen to me. Yuna got what she got because she moved on and recognized that love can be found anywhere. Her career is worth a thousand times more than a career like yours that was built on pain. Just forget about this life. Start over again." “The only one I have is my manager. I have no ambitions, I have no love. I just wanted someone to feel the way I do.” “We all fight for something, Karina! I fight for photography and you’ve been fighting against yourself for too long!”

Karina seemed to be furious. “You don’t understand. I’ve been alone all my life! The only one who’s close to me is my manag-” “No, he’s Yuna’s informant. When he handed me the ticket for Vogue, I immediately understood that he was not on your side, Karina”

“Karina” “I hate you. Will you stop throwing the truth in my face? I know, damn, I know I’m alone. I've never gotten along well with anyone. But with you, I had a good time. Time never seemed to end. You’ll abandon me too. You all do the same when I show you how I am”

You turned the computer towards her. “Karina, I posted the photos. Look at them. First, breathe and then rationalize” Karina did as you said, too vulnerable to go against you.

When she saw the article with the photo of you she couldn’t say a word. She just asked you, in a weak voice, why you did it. “We can start over, Karina. They already had everything. In their eyes, I saw what was missing in ours. Rise from the ashes Karina or die forever, it would make more sense than continuing to pretend to live in someone else’s body”

You got up from the room, knowing that the news with the photo of you and Karina kissing would do more harm to her than to you. You shut the door behind you. You turned around. Outside you waited for Karina, hoping she would come out so you could comfort her. But that didn’t happen.

The news caused a scandal. The billboards with Karina disappeared, her role as the lead actress in that new movie was deleted and for more than a month, all anyone talked about was that photo. No one recognized your face; next to Karina, you looked quite bad. Yuna called you and guaranteed that your name and work would remain in the photo book. The Vogue photos were never published. You stuck them up, with Sunwoo’s help, in the fast food restaurant.

Sometimes someone stopped to observe them and Sunwoo took care of answering their questions. Very naturally, he said that Karina loved coming to this fast food restaurant - before it disappeared - and that you were her favorite.

Six months had gone by, yet the ache in your chest refused to fade, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings haunting you. Each night, you lay alone in bed, tears soaking your pillow, knowing that no one would come to comfort you—and that no one would offer her the same kindness. In those haunting hours, you grappled with memories and regrets, feeling the weight of your sorrow pressing down on you like a heavy shroud.

“What a beautiful day! Life has never been so beautiful!” “Sunwoo, it’s just your first role in a stupid TV series” “A stupid TV series that you’ll watch!”

You and Sunwoo had become great workmates again. This time, you were the one who requested more hours, and Sunwoo, despite having found a second job, had decided to work alongside you in each of them.

Sometimes you look at the street illuminated by the street lamps. You hadn't been able to move on. After Yuna’s photobook came out, your name appeared on many other projects. You had started working with many more idols. But there was no one like her.

“Still thinking about it?” “My mind is occupied with her, Sunwoo” “You couldn’t contact her?” “No one has her number and no one has been close to her. At least I know she’s not dead” “Yeah…”

It was four in the morning on a random Thursday when a black car pulled up on the road and parked in front of the fast food restaurant. Sunwoo let out a scream and hid behind the counter. “Is that the police? What have you done, Y/n?” “Stop it, you idiot, and get the emergency number ready. You never know”

But a woman with blonde hair, no makeup, and wearing a sweatshirt that looked very expensive, stepped out of the car. At first, you and Sunwoo couldn’t figure out who she was, you could only guess that she was extremely attractive from the way she walked.

When the first light from the fast food restaurant hit her face, Karina revealed herself to you with a shy smile. “Sunwoo…” she waved at the boy. “And well… Y/n… How are you doing?”

Sunwoo let out another scream. This time you did the same. Then you started to cry, unable to control your emotions. Karina threw herself at you and hugged you with teary eyes. After you both calmed down, Sunwoo fried you two large portions of fries and left the place for a moment, pretending to have received a call.

“Y/n. I look at you…” “Terribly, terribly” “Yes, well. You’ve lost weight” You squeezed her hands tightly. Warm tears fell onto Karina's white hands.

“Sorry” “Stop it, it’s okay. Look at me” Karina took your face in her hands and forced you to look at her. Then she continued to speak. “It had to be this way. I was reborn from the ashes, okay? But I want you to do the same. Let’s help each other. We’ve been alone for too long and…”

Karina stopped to look at the road, her eyes shining. “I missed you. The real you is so annoying, sexy, and cute at the same time. I'm happy to hear you're well."

Karina then looked back at you and looked at the palms of your hands. “Come with me. I'm full of money. Let's run away from here, let's go where no one knows us" "Karina" "It doesn't matter if you tell me now. You destroyed my previous life though! I expect you to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together"

She made you laugh and you thanked fate for having met her. You gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Karina looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you just kissing me back?” “Karina, there’s a time for everything” “You know, Y/n, I have a few things I need to tell you about myself. Did you know that I especially love dark chocolate and hate milk chocolate?”

“Karina,” you stood up from the stool and locked your eyes with his. "Tell me, Y/n" “We have all the time to learn to love each other” “And we have all the time to learn to live”

Sunwoo burst into the fast food restaurant, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he shared the incredible news: he had secured a role in a film directed by a renowned filmmaker. The moment was electric, filled with laughter and heartfelt congratulations as you both celebrated his achievement. Before leaving this familiar place, you and Karina decided to capture the memory with a photo at the very spot where your journey had begun. As the camera clicked, you were acutely aware that this moment marked a turning point. You stood there, smiling and cherishing the memory, knowing deep down that you were ready to embrace the future and leave the past behind, resolutely moving forward without looking back.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ evil!Ford x reader

author note: okay im sorry for post spamming but this idea been sitting in my mind for too long and I had to write smth about it, would be glad to read your opinion on that Ford x reader dynamic!^^

so this is a bit of an au situation where evil!Ford is working with Bill now. in this version, reader is Ford’s former ex partner, someone who used to be close enough to him to know his work better than anyone else, including the equation Bill wanted from Ford in canon. Although here Ford doesn’t know the equation anymore, but you do

You’re trapped.

The chair beneath you creaks when you try to move, your wrists aching from the coldness of the handcuffs that keep your hands pinned behind your back. Your breathing is shallow from fighting, your throat feels dry from screaming, but you keep your head high. Defiance in your eyes, even as Stanford’s gaze burns holes through you.

He sits across from you with his legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his thighs, watching you. You squint, noticing a little glow of that infernal symbol on his wrist. Bill’s mark, his new goddamn religion. 

“You’re only making this harder for yourself, darling.”

You don’t answer, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Ford leans back in his chair, tilting his head as his eyes drag slowly over you. “Still playing the martyr, i see,” he drawls, unable to hold sarcastic laugh. “you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“Oh, but, sweetheart,” he says, standing now. “you don’t get it, do you? you can’t win this.”

“You think you’re protecting them,” Stanford continues. “Stanley, the twins. You think they’ll thank you for this? For your stubbornness?”

“You won’t touch them.” you answer through clenched teeth. 

Ford crosses the room in a few strides, towering over you now and it feels like his shadow is swallowing you whole. His hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing your face upward to look at him and you don’t recognise him, instead of your Ford, it’s a shadow of a man who’s sold his soul, body and mind, to something far worse than the nightmares you’re used to. Ford digs his fingers into your skin.

“Just tell me the equation, that’s all i want. you give me what i need, and this—” his eyes flick down to the cuffs, to the bruises blooming on your wrists, “—this ends.”

“Go to hell.”

His grip only tightens, and his jaw clenches. For a moment, you think he might snap, might lose that careful control he prides himself on. But to your surprise, he lets out a low, bitter laugh, releasing your chin and pacing a step away.

“Always so stubborn, it’s admirable, in a way. Stupid as fuck, but admirable. But we both know i can make you talk.”

Before you can react, his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back sharply. You gasp, your neck arching painfully as his face appears damn close you feel his breath against your lips. God, this is not how you imagined kissing Ford. Not after he joined Bill Cipher.

“What’s with that fear in your pretty eyes? I won’t bite, not unless you ask.” 

“Fuck. . . you,” you say again, but the words sound weaker this time and you hate the fact that even after Ford Pines isn’t the man you remember, you still feel attached to him.

Noticing your hesitation, Stanford’s lips curl into a smirk, and then he’s kissing you, if you can even call it that. Ford is forceful, rough, demanding, his kiss is nothing gentle, his other hand grips your jaw to keep you in place he takes what he wants, biting your lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and he groans when you make a pathetic muffled sound.

When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and you swear you can taste the metal, your skin burns from how hard he squeezed it.

“I can do this all night,” Ford trails his long fingers down the side of your neck, brushing the pulse that races beneath your skin. “You’ll give in eventually. . . they always do.”

“I hate you.” but you don’t believe your own words.

That truly makes Ford laugh, the way you say it so dead serious, with that cute glare when you both know it’s not like that. 

“Hate me?” he repeats in mockery, as if the very idea is absurd. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your head back to force your eyes to meet his. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart?”

You glare up at him, biting down on the words that threaten to spill from your mouth.

“Funny. That’s not what my muse showed me. Not in your little head, darling.” he talks, savouring every word, enjoying your reaction as you already have panic written all over your face. “let me tell you, in there, you’re begging for it, desperate for me to fuck you.”

Your heart slams against your ribs and the air seems to vanish from your lungs. 

“All those filthy little thoughts you try so hard to hide. I had no idea my ex-lab partner was such a slut?”

You feel mad and humiliated at same time, your face burns, but you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart, we both know exactly where it’s gonna get you.”

[idolomantises]

Thoughts on Arcane season 2

I didn’t like this season

It’s not bad, but I found it incredibly rushed, cramped and deeply unsatisfying

While season 1 had several protagonists it was also pretty obvious that Vi and Jinx were the emotional core of the entire show so why on earth was their dynamic barely explored here

Vi went from being my favorite character to a character I found deeply frustrating and annoying. What the hell is her personality of getting her sister back and fucking the hot lesbian. She has no consistency whatsoever and it’s something I don’t think the show realizes how batshit the constant flip flopping in. What do you mean you sister tells you she’s going to kill herself and then you start fucking your messy situationship

I don’t really care for Jayvik but I found Jayce’s confession very sweet.

Mel my beautiful queen they’re gonna call you a Mary Sue

What the fuck was with all that Witch shit and Ambessa’s death was incredibly unsatisfying

Victor fans who kept begging the team to not make him a hot buff robot so he can still be a skinny twink pisses me off so bad because now we have an inferior twink robot design. I know fans probably didn’t influence this but I also need to complain about their lack of taste like what do you mean you didn’t want to see a hot buff robot man.

Ekko feels like an incredibly unimportant character and I’m pretty sure fans only like him because of what he can do for Jinx. A part of me wished he actually did hold a grudge just to see how fans reacted.

Season 1 was all about setting up emotional complexities and how nobody was truly evil and the show made it seem like there was no way for anyone to fully recovery from this but everyone is holding hands and singing kumbaya’s so alright nevermind then

This show was honestly a little too in love with Jinx. I did not enjoy her writing in acts 1 and 2.

The jokes were really bad this season

The songs oh my god the SONGS. I didn’t mind them in season 1 but in season 2 it started to remind me of love is blind and anyone who has watched that show would know what a massive insult that is.

Caitvi lesbian sex scene and I couldn’t even enjoy it because the writing was pissing me off

Caitlyn should’ve continued her little fascist arc.

Mel’s arc this season felt like weird fanfiction.

A bunch of random side characters die off unceremoniously after the show gave them so much unnecessary screen time

I hated Isha sorry. I’ve never seen a character more clearly made to die.

Jinx death means nothing to me because I know she isn’t dead so why even do all that lol

I will never call this show sexist but it has done a massive disservice to its female characters.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Sickly!Brother!Reader and Aemma def had an affair at some point and that’s a hill I’m gonna die on

Imagine Rhaenyra being his daughter after everything she did😭

(I honestly prefer a much more platonic relationship between the two. Just them being the bestest besties of Westeros, wholesomely shit talking anything and everything together and all around being platonic soulmates. But I can’t say that I’m not interested in the idea of this.)

TW: Mentions of Incest

I could really see Sickly!Brother!Reader and Aemma having been just as close when they were younger (if not more so), maybe they even had a betrothal set but then the Reader’s health really started to decline and so Aemma was instead betrothed to Viserys. I can’t help but imagine Sickly!Brother!Reader and Aemma being so in love if that were the case, like that pure kind of love where they both have butterflies in they’re stomach when they catch the other’s eye or just so much as think about one another. The kind of warm, bubbly feeling that spreads through your entire body, and makes you smile uncontrollably. That kind of love.

Given how in love he was with Aemma, Sickly!Brother!Reader may as well have been the one to end their betrothal out of not wanting to hold her back with his health and to become a burden for her. He wanted nothing more than for Aemma to have a more fulfilling life with someone who could meet her all the way and he couldn’t give her that in his condition, so he would rather give it all up then to burden Aemma for the rest of however long he had on this earth.

But even after marrying Viserys, Aemma would have still stayed so close to Sickly!Brother!Reader’s side, especially after he became bedridden. She may have even been the first one to tend to and look after him, long before Alicent, Rhaenyra, Mysaria, and Alys. At the very least she would keep him company all throughout the day. Aemma still very much so wanted to be a part of Sickly!Brother!Reader’s life no matter what. She would have still happily married him even with his ailing health, willingly taken care of him to the very end. She wouldn’t have turned her back on him for anything. Aemma would have loved nothing more than to bear him even just one heir, something that was entirely theirs���, a part of both of them that they made together. A proof of their unabashed love. But instead she was now to give that to her beloved’s eldest brother.

I could very well see Viserys allowing Aemma and his precious brother to have a full on relationship behind closed doors. Hell, he may even encourage it. He would have of course known just how much Sickly!Brother!Reader cared for Aemma and how hurtful it was for him to end their betrothal but he wanted better for Aemma that he couldn’t give her. And if Viserys didn’t have any knowledge of just how much Sickly!Brother!Reader truly loved Aemma and how painful it was for him to give up a life with her then Daemon would sure as hell make sure Viserys did know. Daemon would greatly encourage a full on relationship between his beloved younger brother and Aemma if it meant his brother’s happiness. Even if it did go behind Viserys’ back but Daemon would ensure they never got caught. If Viserys were to somehow find out that Aemma and his youngest brother were having a relationship behind his back, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with his beloved baby brother. I don’t think he’d say anything about it either, he’d bite his tongue and let it happen. Especially, if Sickly!Brother!Reader were to be in much better spirits than he had been before.

Sickly!Brother!Reader wouldn’t be able to keep his relationship a secret from Viserys for long though. He would try to come clean about it to Viserys during one of their visits together, but Viserys would have stopped him before he could say anything. Patting his baby brother on the shoulder, giving him a grin and carrying on with the topic before. Viserys could never bring himself to hate or be angry with his brother or Aemma. And honestly, seeing how much happier his precious brother is now means more to him than anything else.

In the case that Rhaenyra was actually Sickly!Brother!Reader’s child, that would be so much to unpack. Especially after everything Rhaenyra has done with him. I could see her reaction going either way honestly. Given that we’re talking about yandere!Rhaenyra here though I feel like she wouldn’t really mind. I could even see Rhaenyra having known all along that the Reader is her real father and still going through with everything she inevitably does. I could see her justifying it by how connected she and Sickly!Brother!Reader are. How connected they’ve always been and now how connected they’ll always be after the children.😬🫣

[arc852]

Gosh, I have no idea how I'm going to put this into words but I'm gonna try my best.

I have a lot of feelings about Jimmy's canary status and such.

For four seasons he has been the first out, he's the canary. He signals the start of the end and for four seasons that was very true. And Jimmy hated it. He hated being out first everytime. Everyone around him either pitied him or made fun of him for being out first and Jimmy started to hate himself for how bad he was at the game.

And then came Secret Life.

As we all know, he wasn't the first out. And he was ecstatic. Even after dying second not ten minutes later, he cared more about the fact that he wasn't out first. He claimed the curse was broken and now we continue to see this into Wild Life.

Now, where am I going with this?

I think the Watchers are doing this on purpose.

There has always been something about Jimmy that the Watchers have clung on to. And up until this point, I thought the Watchers despised him. I mean, being the one cursed to always be out first, to be the one that warns your friends of their deaths, that's not fun. That's straight up torture.

But now, I don't think they despise him. I think they see to use him.

Think about it! The Watchers, for four seasons, have pummeled Jimmy's self confidence into the ground. Has made everyone see him as a loser. He started getting hopeless, started feeling like nothing was ever going to change.

And then it did change, in Secret Life, and he wasn't out first. Now, being out second is really not any better but it wasn't about that. Jimmy was starting to feel like, maybe he could actually do this! Maybe he could even win.

And then session 3 of Wild Life happened.

The Watchers did this on purpose. They gave him hope by not being out first in Secret Life and then let things get crazy in session 3 of Wild Life for Jimmy. Jimmy had it pretty bad in session 3 and I know a lot of us didn't have a lot of hope for him after that. Of course, session 4 went a different way than we were all expecting but again, that kind of plays into things.

The Watchers have torn Jimmy down, given him a little hope, and then tore him down again. And they did this to get Jimmy right where they wanted him.

Because Jimmy, before session 5, prayed to the Watchers. He asked them, begged them to please not let him be out first. To please let the canary curse well and truly die.

And they answered.

And Jimmy wasn't out first.

And now Jimmy is putty in their hands.

[darknoverse]

violence vs voice of reason

actually i realized how much of polar opposites they truly are like omg

peace vs war, violent vs passive, hates humans vs sympathises with them, ect ect ect

and i also think they're fun to explore as a dynamic cuz they don't fully redeem eachother nor corrupt eachother they sorta just...end up in a situation similar to a grey area

also a lil Rosetasma thingy i did this morning cuz they're epic

and Ace-C and Dee-C my beloved gremlins i love them

Taglist: (btw if you wanna be added to the list tell me!)

@candyheartedchy @berryshipbasket @radaverse

@tireddovahkiin

@bloodhoundini @lficanthaveloveiwantpower

@rexscanonwife @ree3942 @sunflawyer

@artcomestolife

@self-shipping-crow @mothlessmood

[isabeauwolf]

Ex Dabi x reader (x Hawks) - My World

It has been a few months since you two broke up.

You said you were done being a villain and out of Dabi's life.

You apprenticed under Giran as an information broker. The man picked you up off the street as a teenage run away and you never looked back. Well, until...

That. Nosy, goodie two-shoes, two-faced, hypocritical red winged chicken sunk his talons into you.

Stole you from him.

His doll. His woman.

Dabi's usually cool and carefree composure cracks every time he sees you with Japan's Number 2 Hero. His anger, rage and red hot jealousy burning like liquid fire in his veins as he feels his burnt, scarred and stapled jaw clenching and grinding; his free hand twitches and closes into a white knuckled fist.

Seeing you smile cutely. Blushing and giggling with earnest and genuine emotion in your doe-like eyes as the bastard's gloved knuckles brush the back of your cheek, shoving a soft lock of your hair behind your ear, gently cups your jaw and brings you into a kiss.

Dabi knows this faker was a double agent. Why couldn't you see that despite his warning? You usually have an incredible sense of reading people. How could you be so blind? Unable to see this lying heartbreaker through those rose tinted glasses.

Yes. Shigaraki and Giran had given you their permission to walk away, you no longer had a criminal record or it was deleted and destroyed by your hacker friend La Brava, who chose to support you in your career change.

Shigaraki, Giran, Toga, Twice, Mr Compress and hell, even Spinner missed you.

Dabi chose to watch from the shadows. No matter how much he hardened this heart, making himself go numb, shove the earth shattering pain and heartbreak down, masking it, locking it and burning the key with his blue hellfire flames.

Only when he was alone in his room at night did he breakdown every night, releasing silent screams into his pillow that still smelled like you. The one person who thawed his icy, horribly fragile, blackened, ash covered and twisted stitched back together heart.

Clutching the blue pillow to his chest as he cried bloody tears, shuddering and sobbing quietly and mentally remembering when you used to look at him like that. As if he was your whole world.

He should hate you with every fiber left in his soul, and yet... he couldn't... he couldn't bring himself to hate you.

Not even after you shattered his heart.

Dabi's eyes widen as more red, bloody tears covered and hazed his vision.

Seeing you look at Hawks made him second guess himself. Did you truly love him at all for this past year since he's joined the League?

Or were you only using him for information?

The more Dabi questioned himself and your relationship, the more his paranoia and mind began to unravel! No, no! You loved him. You said you did! You wouldn't have stayed by his side and nursed him back to health after he'd gotten sick and injured during a mission, if you didn't love him and didn't care. Right?

He thought about the last few weeks before you decided to break up.

"Touya?" You mumbled shyly while cuddling against his naked chest on his bed.

Touya hummed, opening an eye and glanced down at you, holding you close and the other arm underneath his head.

You opened your mouth and then closed it. You sat upright, dragging the sheet with you to cover your chest and frowned, "Do you... ever thing about the future... after the war is over? After you, Shigaraki and the rest of the gang have tore down Hero Society?"

Touya raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the first time you two had had this conversation. He reassured you that he would be all yours, whispering comforting words to try and soothe your fears. But this time felt different. "Doll, what's this really about?" He sat upright, tilting his head and cupping your cheek as tears spilled down your face and down his hand as he wiped them away. "Y/n?"

"I... I don't care... what happens to the world... I can't lose you.." You whimpered, salty droplets falling harder and faster as you sobbed and hiccuped. "I'm not... strong enough..."

Touya frowned and pulled you into his chest and into his lap. "Hey, hey, shush, I'm coming back, baby." It hurt him to see you like this. He rested his chin on top of your head as he held you tight and let you cry it out. "I can't leave my crybaby all alone in this shitty world, can I?"

You both knew it was a lie. You both held onto each other tightly as each others lifelines. Knew the clock was ticking, the closer it came to the boss' hibernation to gain more power.... it was only a matter of time before The Heroes would strike. Try to capture you both and lock you away forever.

There was no All For One or Overhaul, some other big baddies to distract the Heroes attention and escape routes, do-overs, resets, check points, it was all or nothing. The game will be going on auto pilot while the boss is sleeping and the NPC's, Allies, Enemies were all gathering their strength, training and preparing.

Sniffing once you had claimed down, you pulled away. "I love you, Touya Todoroki." You whispered, breathlessly.

Touya's eyes widened and his breath stilled, his heart thudding hard in his chest. That was the first time you ever said you loved him. There was no need to before, he knew you loved him from your actions alone. Words were cheap, actions spoke louder. You always whispered his old name so sweetly, like a secret, which it was. Only you were allowed to say it in private or during your love making and rough fucking in the sheets when everyone else was gone.

Your frown deepened. "I said, I love you... aren't you going to say it back?" You fiddling with your hands, showing how nervous you were.

Touya blinked, he couldn't voice his answer. He knew that a world without you would be hollow and empty. He felt half mad and worried when you were out gathering intel and groceries for The League in a disguise since you weren't well known, but the more paranoid part of him couldn't risk it.

Your hair covered your face and you started to crawl off his lap, bottom lip trembling. "Sorry.. sorry for bother-"

Touya cut you off, leaning forward, smashing his mismatched lips with your own and pushing your back against the mattress. You gasped and moaned into the kisses as he poured all of his love, feelings, heart and passion into it. He couldn't tell you yet, not yet. Instead, he would use his body, his hands, his fingers all of him into showing you. Using his scarred, burnt and broken body as an instrument to use to pleasure you, to protect you.... you; his too kind-hearted doll. He made love to you again, more tender and gentle, forcing orgasm after orgasm from your body, and greedy for more.

Dabi shook his head, furiously wiping away and painting his cheeks red from his tears as he scowled. He replayed the day you two broke up in his head as his hands tightening into the pillow.

Anger and fury resurfacing as you had just finished talking with Shigaraki about something. He didn't like not knowing what. You were always stupidly and annoyingly over excited to share your new assignment or information with him after telling the boss.

Your smile dropped as soon as you turned back to face him. "Hi, Dabi." Your frown deepened as you glanced at your feet.

Dabi's eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. Something was wrong. You hadn't been this nervous and shy since he first joined The League. "What's wrong, "V/n?"

You bit your lip and swallowed. "Can I... talk to you in private?"

Dabi walked towards you, his movements slow and intimidating as he towered over you. His presence usually smoothed you and comforted you, but now you were cowering before him. "We are alone right now. Talk." His voice calm, but a hint of ice in it. Backing you up against the cold, hard concrete wall behind you as he pressed his hard chest against your own, arms rising and boxing you in on either side of your head. "C'mon, my little doll. Tell your boyfriend the truth like a good little girl and maybe... maybe I'll go easy on you." He cooed darkly, lips curling into a wolfish and hungry grin, you knew he'd keep his dark promises.

He knew you loved his twisted praises.

Your breath hitched and you shivered against him, cheeks heating.

Your eyes met his own as he gently gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I-.."

His mouth ghosting over your own, this cat and mouse game never grew old between you two. "Yes?" Dabi whispered low and husky, excitement and lust heating his veins.

You closed your eyes, swallowed down your fear and pushed your courage to the surface. "I want to break up with you, Dabi!" You said that a lot louder than you meant to, but you said it, nevertheless.

Dabi paused and his heart stopped, his body froze and tensed. Did he hear you right? No. He couldn't have. You were just playing with him. A joke for scaring you. "Come again?" He bit out, he felt his body growing hotter, quaking and trembling with anger.

You didn't answer, which pissed him off even more.

Pulling away from you, his blunt nails digging into the concrete and the other slamming hard into the concrete slab beside you, a blast of blue embers igniting, leaving scorch marks. "Goddammit! Answer me, Y/n!" He hissed, turquoise eyes heated and dilated in furry.

The sound of wings flapping and something sharp pressed against his neck made Dabi peak over his shoulder. Of course, the nosy, Heroic red peacock was sticking his nose into business that didn't concern him. "What do you want, Hero?" The black haired man growled, meeting Hawks own cold hearted, amber glare.

"I believe you've been dumped my friend." Hawks answered. "Now, back away from her or things will get messy." Pressing his bladed red feather further into the other man's neck. "Go walk it off, hothead."

Everything in the villains body forced him to stay still. The hell he would leave you alone with this bastard. He knew you hated Heroes. No one had saved you when you needed them most, no one else, except for Giran. Not until The League and Dabi himself protected you, their treasure and info broker, their golden egg.

You were apart of them now. Their comrade. You've cried for them. You've risked your life for them time and time again. You've bleed for them.

"I don't like being told what to do, chicken feet." Dabi fully turned, keeping his back towards you, shielding you despite how royally irritated he was at you. He wasn't going to abandon you. He'd rather let his shitty old man have a free shot than trust this faker. "Our conversation is between us, not you. Beat it before I really get angry and burn your feathers."

Hawks lowered his weapon and sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Talk about a flare for the dramatic arts you have, Dabi." He folded his red feathers behind his back, locking his gloved hands behind his head and spun around in a circle on his heels. "The missy clearly doesn't want you anymore and you can't let go." He clicked his tongue and frown, "That's just sad man, ya know? Happens all the time. The chemistry and romance fizzles out. You two don't click anymore." His golden gaze met the flame villains.

Dabi felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart with a knife and the stupid feathered freak was twisting it, deeper and deeper. It made his ire burn hotter and flames blaze, double fists white-knuckled as his hands ignited, bursting into azure hellfire. "Last warning, bastard." His eyes narrowed, snarling. "Back the fuck off, eyesore."

Hawks raised his crimson feathered blade and got into a battle stance, "Hard way it is then, flam-o."

Hero and Villain getting ready to charge.

You ran around Dabi and stood between them, raising your arms and yelled. "Stop! Please stop!"

Dabi and Hawks paused, eyes widen.

"Doll, move."

"Get out of the way before you get hurt, little bird."

Dabi grit his teeth, he hated the stupid pet bird name Hawks gave you. It didn't suit you at all. You were his doll. His baby. His little mousy. "The fuck are you nicknamin' my girl for, fuckface?" He growled.

Hawks raised an eyebrow. "What? As of.." He tilted his head and hummed, gripping his chin, then glanced down at his watch. "Five minutes ago, the girls single and free game right?" He winked and gave you a cheeky grin.

Dabi was seeing red, his blood boiling in his veins and he felt every muscle in his body twitch and grow alight. "The hell she is. Dream on, playboy." Bursts and sparks of his blue flames randomly appearing over his body: the side of his head, his palms and his shoulder. He hunched his shoulders, getting ready to charge using his legs and his flames as you stepped towards him.

He remained rooted on the spot, a heated and frustrated groaning hiss leaving his already raspy vocal cords. "Move out of my way, baby or you'll get hurt! I'm warning you, dammit!"

You puffed out your cheeks and chest. He knew you did it when your more stubborn and bratty streak came out while challenging him.

He normally would tease you and call you cute, playing your bluff. You were a shitty liar and had a terrible poker face. But right now was not one of those times.

"I'm not moving, Dabi." You spat, tears prickling the corners. "You either back down or run me over. Your choice?" Your voice cracked and breaking, voice trembling, the next few words felt like acid. "Hawks... is right... its over... Dabi.." Your body quivering and you sobbed, letting your tears spill freely. You would have fallen onto your knees and onto the ground had Hawks not caught you and pulled you into his arms.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here, birdy." Hawks whispered softly into your ear, cradling you against his chest, wrapping one of his feathered wings around you and shielding you from Dabi's view.

Dabi's flames vanished, he shook his head. No. You didn't mean it. You couldn't mean it. It's a lie.... he thought, that fake motherfucker poisoned your mind with his false chivalry and play boyish charms. God, please, please... tell me this is all a nightmare. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He just realized that he said those words out loud, he own voice sounded foreign to him, broken, needy and pleading.

That wasn't like the infamous, cold-hearted, Dabi at all.

Hawks glanced over to the flame user with pity and sympathy. "Hate to break it to ya buddy, but it is." He picked you up in his arms as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed harder into his bombers jacket. The Hero turned, but Dabi caught the frown and sorrow behind Hawks golden viser.

No. It clicked, that flying rat was in love with you!

You were letting him touch you and comfort you, which was his job.

Dabi shook himself, "Put her down, bird bitch." Jealousy already settling into his bones and twisting in his gut. If you left with Hawks, it would truly be over and you never explained why?! So many unanswered questions swirling in his mind.

Were you cheating on him with Hawks? No.

Hawks half turned, soften golden orbs glowered. "If you attack me. You risk hurting your ex-lover pyro. Is that what you want, hot shot?" He argued, scowling. "Hurting a defenseless woman out of anger? Pathetic man." His red feathers ruffled and flapped with aggravation and irritation, growing razor sharp. "Try it and I won't be nice a second time."

Dabi grit his teeth, his fists clenched so hard, his nails dug into his palms, breaking the skin, blood spilling from the wound and dripping on the ground. He didn't feel it. Couldn't even, if he tried. His sense of pain was dulled, except for the unbearable pain in his chest, his heart, and his soul. "Get the fucking hell out of my sight before I change my mind, Hero." He spat with venom as he stormed off in the opposite direction.

Dabi wouldn't admit it, but he regretted not stealing you away from Hawks when he had the chance. The next morning, you left a letter on his pillow saying that you had quit.

Standing from the bed, wearing only his sweatpants, he began to pace back and forth. The more he walked circles round and round the room, the more frustrated and heated he became, nearly tearing his hair out of his scalp.

So many puzzle pieces were missing. He couldn't ask the boss since he was still asleep. Dabi was tempted to barge into Twice's room and demand for him to make a clone of you. He needed answers, but he also missed you so goddamn much. He missed you hogging the blanket in the middle of the night, you wearing one of his shirts to bed and nothing else, you sleep in his bed and that cute, dopey, half sleepy and half awake smile on your face as he brought you your morning coffee.

Why couldn't you see that you were his whole goddamn world? He'd do anything to make you happy. He'd burn the world and anyone you asked him too.

Were you ashamed of him? Calling him your boyfriend? That he didn't repeat those three little words back to you when he should have? Of course, he loved you! He thought you knew that. Trusted him.

Dabi dug his blunt nails into his skull harder. What the fuck was he missing?!

It's all that stupid, huffing, puffing, red feathered assholes fault!

Hawks. Damned nosy, kiss ass.

Piss ant. Poser. Traitor. Double crossing, Hero spy.

Dabi's eye widened a fraction. Spy? Spy!

He stopped his pacing and his clawing. Scarred, burnt, stapled lips quirking and twitching into a feral, twisted and chesire cat grin. A string of giggles slipping past his mouth, laughing and snickers growing in volume, he spun on his heels, round and round, faster and faster, cackling into madness and hysterics.

All of it made sense now. You weren't in love with that prick. You were a spy for The League! Who better to butter-up that pansy than you.

Dabi signed and threw his body back onto his bed, half delirious and dizzy, the room spinning, his body still shook and giggles died in his throat and trying to regain his breath. Oh, my brilliant and beautiful, crafty doll. He wished he could kiss you and smother you with cuddles, praises, love bites and bury himself into your warmth and body. My naughty girl, keeping a secret mission from me. His little mousy had truly grown into a fine villain.

----------

Fanfic inspired by the song: My World by SR-71

https://youtu.be/1MNukXXhOMA?si=1YhVOZgedAP8VlUB

I'm sorry 😭 Touya. The angst, hurt and heartbreak 💔 just hit while I was listening to this song on my music playlist

Should I make a part 2? Tell me your thoughts 😉 Should reader and Dabi get back together?

If I missed you in my tag list let me know! 💞 Or if you want me to take you off my tag list, I understand.

Tag list: @fanofflames @slayfics @angelblueflame @cherry-queens-blog @tapiocakisses @moonchild701 @selinakyles-wife @shadow-w1zard-money-gang @dabislittlemouse @nekolover93 @kkodzukens @phantomhoeass @s-k-3-l-l-y @fabled-lady-twilla @trickster-kat @myvillainacademiafan @nikki0606 @metranart @m3gumibear @staitc-rj @spectra-phantasma @kyiratodoroki

[magebastard]

a rarer height

wc: 1019

ship: loua ‘rook’ mercar x lucanis dellamorte

rating: t

notes: datv spoilers! plotless mush! this ran away from me and i want it OUT of my head! prob takes place after the romance lock-in point or a time shortly after.

—

It’s foolish.

She should leave their cozy kitchen in their cozy nook of their deceptively cozy dining hall.

Instead, Loua brings a scalding cup of bitter, black coffee to her lips and leans incorrigibly against the counter. She watches his hands while he works. He hums as he cooks for them all. She wonders if it’s truly an idle habit or if he’s keeping himself awake.

Before this mess began, she remembers her blood racing and heart warming to the sight of deadly competence. Her fellow Shadows exuding the strength of righteous purpose. Combat prowess, stratagem, kindness and authority. She had a type, damn it.

The hearth fire casts the chamber in a golden glow. No one else is in this hall and Lucanis is quietly humming and murmuring measurements to himself.

“If I wanted to poison you, I assure you I’d already have done so,” he’d teased with one of those angular, jabbing smiles on his face. And, well, he could have. It wouldn’t even be difficult. She’d drink poison from the cups of his rough, quick hands if he kept his eyes on hers. He wouldn’t even have to try. What a dissatisfying kill for an adept assassin.

It’s confusing more than it is anything else. Lucanis is competent, authoritative and kind. And her heart did respond to those things. A torchlight in her chest, bright and undeniable.

Though it’s negligible beside the inferno made of him when they are at rest.

The trouble is (and the thrill is) that he’s shy. Not traditionally—no stammering, no fumbling. It’s sweeter. Reserved. When Loua freely pours her affection out for him, he stares for just a moment. At first, she worried she’d made him uncomfortable. And wouldn’t that be an awkward card, in the already nightmarish hand of circumstance?

They’d been walking, leisurely strolling through the canal district. Meeting Illario for coffee in Treviso, before it all went sour. Killing time had become novel enough to delight and Loua felt drunk with it. A violet hue from the city’s mage lights colored the night and the cut of his cheeks handsomely.

“It’s a beautiful city.” she’d said.

“It is.” he’d replied so fondly.

“It certainly suits you.”

Loua remembers the breath where she thought she’d fucked up immeasurably. Lucanis had stared straight ahead for a long beat. She would have bet that he’d kindly rebuff her for her boldness. His jaw worked over and over as if he were chewing on his words. She almost backpedaled to free him from having to say anything at all.

But the seismic upward quirk of his lips and the mirth in his tired, dark eyes stilled something in her, in turn. It wasn’t fair. She had to be clever and charming to disarm him and all he had to do was look. All the odds in the Thedas were stacked against her. The blighted, hateful non-gods must be cackling to themselves at the weakness of the fool sent to slay them.

Things had only gotten more pathetic from there.

But Lucanis began relenting in inches, showing his own attachment to her in turn.

Zara was dead and Illario would face retribution, soon. Loua had her own ideas but there was no chance she’d voice them to him, now. Especially not now.

Loua watches him with a dry throat and starving eyes. It all goes beyond the stir of attraction or even that benign affection. How could a killers’ hands be the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen? How could she be so entirely arrested by a look? How could her heart crack open in her chest now, when it needs to be firmer—sharper than it has ever been?

She‘s never been in love. Is it supposed to ache like this?

“You must know I can sense you staring. You’re confusing Spite.”

It’s the most carefree thing he’s said since their prison break from the Ossuary in his mind. And void, isn’t that a relief? She had a needling worry that they’d have to start over, now that he had a more comfortable respite from Spite’s intervention.

To see him loose and light with rolled up sleeves and a serene look on his face stayed her fears. Quite a few of them, actually.

“You’re such a sap,” Neve had said, in his minds eye. Perhaps she should feel chided. But with the world ending and when moments like this are so fleeting and fractured, balancing on a knifes’ edge? If holding on with both hands makes her a sap, then that is a fine thing to be.

Loua tilts her head and knows she’s not imagining the way his eyes follow hers with an assassins’ focus. Nor that confounding quirk of a smile.

“The way you cook reminds me of my momae.” Oh, she hadn’t meant to say that. That wasn’t very romantic at all. Why did she say that?

But the quirk stretches to a full, attentive beam and the particulars of her fumbling didn’t matter then. “Go on,” he says. She could melt.

“She loved it—having a real kitchen. My mothers grew up largely traveling and settling in the woods. My momae loved to cook. I don’t think she ever got over the joy of having a full kitchen. You just seem—well, I don’t know. Content, maybe? It’s nice.” Loua shrugs, reaching for a casual gesture to release the anxious, cloying weight in her chest. “Seeing you this way, I mean. It’s always nice.” It’s remarkable. I’ve watched you sail with spectral wings across battlegrounds, landing precise and graceful strikes through our enemies hearts with the fervor and care of an artist—but nothing, nothing has ever stolen breath from me the way that watching you methodically chop vegetables with a smile has.

Lucanis sets down the knife. Rests his hands on the countertop as if he were bracing himself. His head tilts now and she follows the movement carefully with her eyes. They stand there, like fools, grinning at each other in the hearth light.

“I would not say content, just yet. We have quite a to-do list, yes? But there is—“ his jaw works as he searches for the words she hangs on. “There is no small relief in feeling at home somewhere. With someone, perhaps.”

The weight; the anxious, vibrating stone in her chest opens like a yawning primrose. Something tender and raw and bruise-violet hangs between them. It’s not tension, it’s reaching. Loua burns for him and she cannot remember a time she wanted so deeply, something to keep.

The world is burning. Now is not the time for this. She sips the coffee he’s made for her. It’s warm in her hands.

“Yes,” she says. Too quiet, too soft. “I know exactly what you mean.”

[randomnessofthehighestorder]

Arcane season 2!

Just watched Act 3 and I’m not ready to say goodbye after all that happened…

(Spoilers under the cut)

Hextech really was the problem all along. Ep 7’s alternative timeline is proof of that. Without it, both Zaun and Piltover would be at peace…

Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Silco, Benzo, they’re all alive and Powder never turned into Jinx in that timeline. The only bad thing there is Vi’s dead. What could’ve been…

Jayce’s actions make sense now, goes to show that you shouldn’t rush to judgement before you know the whole story.

TimeBomb kiss! TimeBomb kiss! I ship them so much!!! 🤩🤩🤩

Heimerdinger is no more. But at least he lived a life of peace in another universe… Rest in peace, Professor.

Mel’s fully embraced her mage status, her magic looks amazing, and her new look! She’d make a good in-game champion…

Viktor’s fully embraced the glorious evolution now, and turned his followers mechanical. Low key kinda scary though… his new look must be the rework Riot was talking about for his in-game self!

Warwick NOOOOOO! 😭😭😭 Vander is gone, only the beast remains, with a mechanical twist… RIP Uncaged Wrath of Zaun.

Ambessa really was the villain all along, even if her intentions were misguided. She truly deserved a warrior’s death…

They did it! CaitVi did the deed! I’m so happy for them! They truly belong together, far from being oil and water… ❤️❤️❤️

Jinx took Isha’s death hard. Someone give her a hug… 🫂

We lost some good people in the war, Loris, that Jinxer. But it was worth it now that the good guys won…

Zaun entered the fight in a truly epic fashion! The twin cities are united! 🎉🎉🎉

The Boy Saviour did what he meant to do! He shattered time and saved the day! Ekko FTW!

The mage that saved Mrs Talis was Viktor?! It all makes sense, he traveled across timelines giving young Jayce a crystal with a different rune to save the future, and only one was successful. MIND. BLOWN. 🤯🤯🤯

What happened to Jayce and Viktor? They used the crystal, but at what cost? Maybe we’ll never know… also, they hugged! He truly has forgiven him…

JINX NO!!!! She sacrificed herself to save her sister from Warwick! Guess Isha won’t be lonely up there… RIP Loose Cannon… 😭😭😭😭

CaitVi got their happy ending. But what’s next for them? Fanfic writers, you know what to do…

Maddie betrayed Piltover?! Guess all the hate was rightfully placed, especially now that she’s dead…

Swain? What’s your crow doing here?! Watching Noxus retreat? I don’t trust you…

This show was amazing and it ended on a truly epic note. I’m really gonna miss it. Thank you, Riot and Fortiche for giving us a story we’ll never forget…

[brotherwtf]

Hello, I'd like to ask for 15. "Your silence speaks more than you ever have. And, I'm not sure why it took so long for me to notice", Buck and Bucky in canon universe :)

oh my goodness yes, Bucky can read Gale so well when he's silent, he's one of the only ones who can truly understand what Gale is going through even when he doesn't talk

----

When Buck went silent, it usually explained more than Gale could ever explain through words alone.

He didn't talk much to begin with, it was either casual banter with John or orders to subordinates, but he didn't run his mouth like John did. Whenever John was distressed or anxious or exhausted he would talk until he couldn't talk anymore. Gale wasn't like that, and John had to learn how to read Gale like no other.

Even now as the flares went off and people cheered for the end of the war; Gale was silent. All he had done was reach for John's flask and delicately bring it to his lips, John knows that was his first sip of alcohol in a long, long time. He didn't say anything, not until the flares had long died down and the sounds of cheers grew distant. Gale just kept looking up at the sky, almost like he was expecting it to open up and drop bombs on them. It didn't seem like he believed it.

"Can you believe it, Gale? All of this, all of the fighting, it's all done," John says and he hates that his voice wobbles ever so slightly because he's not sure he believes it himself. He's waiting for the red light to glow again, for Colonel Harding to order him on another mission. This couldn't be real.

Gale, of course, stayed silent, but he looked over at John and sighed something heavy. His eyes were searching, and John mustered a smile just for him. He reached a hand across and held Gale's chin while he kissed him gently, just the short press of lips on lips. But when John moved to pull away Gale's hands shot out like a gunshot, grabbing onto John's arm and pressing their foreheads together, eyes squeezed shut as he inhales long and deep.

"Gale? Something wrong?" John asks and he can see Gale take a breath, another big one that tried to fill his chest, and shake his head. He stumbles on some words, but his grip on John's arm gets tighter.

John nods, moving his hand so he can hold Gale's bringing it up to his lips and pressing a short kiss to the back of it. It's dangerous, they're out in the open on this control tower but John doesn't care. It's the end of the fucking war, people can turn their eyes away from a private moment for just a minute.

"Do you want me to stay? Because I can, doll, I'll stay with you as long as you like," John whispers and feels some comfort when he feels Gale nod his head against his face.

Gale's grip on his hands gets tighter and his face screws up again, pushing his nose into John's cheek as if he's trying to fit into John's skin. John takes Gale's head and presses their cheeks together, pushing his own nose into the hair that had started to grow on the nape of his neck. He didn't smell like his aftershave anymore, and it hurt John to realize how different everything was now.

"I'll stay, I swear I'll stay. Even when we're back in the states. I ain't never leaving you again, Buck," John whispers, and it's a confession if he's ever heard one.

Gale turns his face to press himself further into John's cheek, and John can't help but huff a laugh.

"Your silence speaks more than you ever have. I'm not sure why it took me this long to notice," John whispers and he can feel Gale smile against his cheek.

"I don't know, John, what took you so long?" Gale says, voice breathy from not speaking for hours.

It makes John smile, and he needs that. He needed to smile and he hides a small laugh into Gale's cheek again, arm coming up to wrap around Gale's body so he can hold him in an embrace.

Everything was different now, but in some comforting way, everything remained much the same.

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Ander’s actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

[youareatragedy]

As much as I hate Feyre, I genuinely sometimes feel bad for how SJM uses her. SJM never seems to take mental health issues seriously in her books, and I think she made Feyre’s character worse in ACOMAF by making her look even more foolish. I can’t believe someone who went to all that effort for Tamlin would just trust and believe Rhysand to that degree in such a short time. And yeah yeah people heal from trauma differently, but this is the same guy who literally degraded her in front of all of Prythian, humiliated her, and taunted the person she thought was the love of her life for months.

SJM made Feyre seem so easily manipulated and childish—not even naive, just childish. And then, the moment she becomes fake 'High Lady' she’s somehow both self righteous and constantly bragging about her "powerful family” at every opportunity like she’s above everyone and everyone should bow to her husband. After the war, she opens a painting studio but still doesn’t care about the lives of the females in her court outside of Velaris. This.. all of this while being mad at Tamlin for doing something basic like collecting taxes—something a functioning government has to do.

I honestly don’t get what SJM is trying to do with Feyre. Time and time again, she clearly makes Feyre her self-insert. Is she admitting that the only feminism that matters is white feminism? That the moment SJM married her husband (who she claims is Rhys), she lost her agency and he became her handler? Is this a cry for help? I just don’t get it.

So yeah, sometimes I feel bad for Feyre. She’s so SO young, and her husband is 500 years older than her—we should hold him waaayyy more accountable for every shitty thing Feysand does. But the mystery of Feyre’s bad character progression always makes me wonder: did SJM do it on purpose, or does she truly just not see the problem? (I’m leaning towards the latter because her fans—a lot of them—also can’t see what the problem is with Feysand and the IC.)

[silaslich]

Here’s some unabashed roommate!Johnny fluff for the anniversary of his death - can this get any more macabre? I think not

Truth be told, Johnny was a piss poor patient. Unable to sit still for more then five minutes before he was skirting around the house looking for something to do.

To make matters even worse- you were stuck at home with him, the whole team happened to be on leave at the same time (that in itself was rare).

A few weeks of respite might have seemed like a good idea, but cleaning up the trail of destruction left in Soap’s warpath was not how you wanted to pass the time.

He was frustrated and that was understandable, you’d all been there. Angry and sour because you can’t wipe your own arse or brush your teeth without it hurting or being a mass struggle. He’s your best mate, and you hated watching him trudge around the house with heavy bags under his eyes and a limp in his step.

You’d made him as comfortable as possible; had cooked and cleaned and bought him some Lego to build with some help from yourself. Despite how fucking irritating he was, seeing him quiet and reserved wasn’t the Soap you knew, you hated it more then you hated his early morning alarms or ridiculous jokes.

Those feelings of empathy were quickly snuffed out however, he was soon fighting fit again, back to the usual programming. His footsteps echoing through the house with a new found spring in them. He was back to moving the furniture every other day because he didn’t like the layout, back to making messes and leaving them there. Part of you was relieved but the bigger and more irritated part of you wanted to put him back in the hospital.

“Johnny, please would you just behave for five minutes” it was well and truly safe to say that you were not having kids, Soap had put you off a long time ago. Parenting him was a full time job on top of the military at this point.

He rounded the dining table with fire in his eyes and a smirk slanting his mouth, his stance was low, ready to pounce. You on the other hand were on the opposite side, running from the 6’2 Scotsman with a knowing worry folding your brow.

“Come off it, bonnie” he grinned “I just wanna show you somethin’” that something, was a spider in his hand.

You weren’t particularly scared of them, not by a long shot, had seen and done unspeakable things. A little bug didn’t frighten you, but John Mactavish did.

You’d watched him swallow a slug on a night out a few years back, knocked it back with a can of hooch for good measure. How he didn’t get sick you don’t know, didn’t care, you just knew that you wouldn’t let him forget it till the day he died.

When it came to Johnny and creepy crawlys, you wanted nothing to do with it.

“John” you caught his attention and his smile fell, if only slightly, gaging your reaction as he stepped slowly around the table, following your retreat.

“I’m warning you, John, I swear to fuck if you don’t put that thing outside I’m going to throttle you into next week” there was no weight to your tone, despite how hard you tried, it made him laugh.

Just when Soap saw the golden opportunity to leap across the table, both of your attentions were snapped away, sucked out of the open window where a figure now stood.

“Gazza!” Soap practically bolted it out the door, and you didn’t fail to notice that when he opened his curled fist- there was in fact no spider at all. Prick.

Kyle was early and you’d never been more grateful to see a friendly face, well, a more welcome friendly face. John was wearing thin at this rate, he’d be off the mortgage by the end of the week if he wasn’t careful.

You’d invited everyone to come to your place for the night. No special reason in particular, a night in with a takeaway and enough booze to down a horse, maybe watching a film or catching up on what everyone had been getting up to.

Price had politely declined, to nobody’s surprise, he was too old to be mucking about. You were all surprised however, that Ghost had accepted, un-begrudgingly at that too.

By the time Simon arrives, Soap has already dug out his old wii console. He and Gaz are both a few beers deep and are playing wii sports while you watch from the sidelines, nursing a gin and lemonade and already guessing what Soap will break first - it’ll be the telly or Gaz’s nose.

A knock resounds at the door and you’re the only one that notices, with a grunt and a ‘fuck the two of you then’ you’re heading toward the source of the sound. Ghost isn’t at the door, Simon is, mask gone and face bare. It’s becoming a reoccurring thing, seeing his face, out here in the civilian world no one knows him, no one will piece together who or what he is, so he doesn’t need to hide.

You step aside and allow him in, he follows you to the kitchen and throws up his hand when the other two finally acknowledge him and screech their greeting through a game of tennis that is getting a little too much of a contact sport so far, you’re living room isn’t big enough for those two knobheads to start scrapping over scores.

Simon is more timid out of uniform, he’s quieter, he’s no longer a lieutenant. He’s just Simon. He revels in the quiet, you know things like this drain his social battery quick, so you’ll keep him away from too much of the loud noises and fast movements for now. It’s a pity for everyone when he gets too overstimulated and has to take his leave. So you’ve all learnt his little quirks and warning signs, it’s better to take it slow and ease him into the socialising gently.

That goes without saying; once Simon is a beer and two gins deep, it’s a different kettle of fish. Because it is in fact Simon Riley that breaks Gaz’s nose with his wii controller.

All four of you sit in a&e, drunk, causing a disturbance and ultimately earning a hot girls phone number, you all decided you’ll play a round of cards when you get home to decide who gets to keep the number.