#unfortunately its making me think thoughts like 'i need to save up money so i can see this group perform live +

[carcarrot]

do i really want to make individual drinks again

[ghoul-haunted]

anyway going from 'I'm making separate blogs bc I want to divide up my interests to make myself tolerable,' to 'I'm making a separate blog because I want to make talk to people/make friends in this specific setting,' was a game changer because I Am Having Fun Again

[leaderwonim]

𓇻 I’M A FEMINIST, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I WOULDN’T REALLY MIND HIM SAVING ME.

▸ PAIRING.. class president!yang jungwon x outcast!fem!reader

▸ SYNP. jang y/n hated yang jungwon. perfect, loved by everybody, class president yang jungwon. people only liked him because he was a man and he was charismatic. however, when she’s being picked on by the girls at school, yang jungwon comes to her rescue, and weirdly, she didn’t mind it?

▸ GENRE. enemies to lovers (it’s one sided though, yn just hates jw😭) angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of sexism, fluff

author’s note: this is based off of olivia rodrigo’s unreleased song! This was honestly so much fun to write and it took me about 3 days cause I fell violently ILL like the day after I started writing😭 As usual, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are so greatly appreciated <33

Jang Y/N was what people called an outcast. Although she was pretty and had the grades, she heavily disliked half of her class, which in turn, didn’t exactly make her very popular.

“I hate him.” She says as she shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung, who told her that she shouldn’t be so negative all the time.

“Who, Jungwon?” Wonyoung asks, frowning. “Yah Y/N, you can’t hate him forever. He’s nothing but nice to you.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbles angrily, putting away her lunch. “Wonyo, people only like him because he’s a man who can say a few charming words. He smiles and at least half of our class falls onto their knees or something.”

Wonyoung chokes at her sister’s comparison, and can’t help but let out a little laugh. “I’m just saying Y/nie, you can’t just despise him because he seems perfect to the naked eye. In fact, I say become friends with him. It’ll be good for you.”

Y/N shuts down the idea right away, much to Wonyoung’s dismay.

“I am just saying,” Wonyoung stands up, finished with her lunch. “I mean, don’t you find it sad? That you eat lunch everyday with your sister instead of eating with friends or a boyfriend?”

“No,” Y/N says, frowning. “I like eating lunch with you Wonyo.”

“Hm, I guess.”

The Jang sisters lock arms, strolling to their next class. They miss the longing glance that Yang Jungwon sends towards Y/N’s direction, already too far gone into the Decelis Academy hallway.

‏‏‎ ‎

Unfortunately for Y/N, she had her leadership class with Jungwon, where they would discuss things like student politics and how to better the school so that Decelis could stay at its rightful place of number one on private academy rankings.

It was stupid, Y/N thought, Decelis shouldn’t even be close to number one, this school was filled with a bunch of spoilt children who were obsessed with the idea of money and power.

“Is there a problem, Miss. Jang?” The teacher asks, noticing the little scoffs she was adding each time Jungwon spoke about an initiative he wanted to add.

“No,” Y/N shrugs. “I just think Yang Jungwon’s new initiative is just a waste of time. It's not going to solve anything.”

Jungwon smirks, something that Y/N so desperately wants to wipe the floor with. “Y/N, always the critic of my ideas. Very well, let’s hear your brilliant solution.”

She rolls her eyes. Of course Yang Jungwon wanted to pretend to remain civil, if he had blown up on her, it would’ve tarnish his reputation, and Yang Jungwon would be nothing without his reputation, right?

“Instead of your one-size-fits-all approach method, we need personalized mentorship programs. Each student faces unique challenges, and your initiative doesn't address that.”

Jungwon smiles. “Well I suppose you’re right. But perhaps if you actually joined the initiative, you'd understand its effectiveness.”

Y/N grits her teeth, not enjoying how much Yang Jungwon was enjoying this. “Oh, right, because following the herd blindly is the key to success? Unlike half of Decelis’ population, I prefer independent thinking.”

The boy leans closer in, face almost touching the girl. “Sometimes collaboration is the key to progress, Y/N. Try it sometime.”

The two students make eye contact until Y/N breaks, finally pulling her eyes away.

“As usual, Yang Jungwon always has to be right.” She mumbles under her breath. “God, please save me from being in this class any longer,”

‏‏‎ ‎

Y/N throws her backpack on the floor as soon as she steps into her house, not caring about the expensive computer her grandmother had bought her last Christmas that was stuffed inside. Her parents were in the kitchen, discussing something in hushed whispers, almost as if it was top secret.

Always being the curious child, she leans onto the wall that separated the living room and kitchen, trying to make out what the topic was about.

“I’m just worried honey,” she can hear her mom say as her dad rubs her back comfortingly. “Y/N doesn’t have a lot of friends at that school, Wonyoung told me about it. You know she only hangs out with her sister and that’s it?”

“I mean, is it really that bad that she only hangs out with Wonyoung? She’s always been quiet, I think we’ve just got to respect that. She’s an excellent student anyway, there’s no harm in having little friends.”

Although her parents truly just wanted the best for her, Y/N felt like a complete loser by how they were going about it.

She quickly rushed to her room, biting her lip in annoyance at how everybody seemed to have an opinion about her life. She was happy with how it was going, and she didn’t care that her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung was a sweetheart and lived with her, it was a built in best friend for life.

“Just you wait,” Y/N huffs, sharpening her pencil. “I’m gonna go to university, leave this place, and I won’t have to hear about any of these kids ever again.”

‏‏‎

Y/N woke up the next day with a red eye, probably from crying last night despite telling herself she didn’t care.

She cared, a lot.

Romanticizing being alone was fun until she realized that she was truly all alone, with no friends to lean on.

“Is that Jang Y/N?”

Park Jiwon. The devil herself. She was evil as she was pretty, and she had no problem making Y/N’s life a living hell.

“Where’s Wonyoung? Did your own sister finally get tired of you?” Her little group of minions laugh as if it was the funniest thing ever, and Y/N tries and stops herself from giving them all a swing to the face.

“No, but I’m sure you’re used to that feeling, right Jiwon?”

“Oh you little b—”

“Jiwon, you can’t hit her! You’ll get suspended and it’ll go on your permanent record.” Her friend says, which makes the girl straighten up right away.

“You’re lucky Jang,” the girl snarls. “But yah, what were you thinking? Talking back to Jungwon? He’s so smart and handsome, dedicating his time to make initiatives for the school. You should be more grateful.”

She and her minions get so close that they practically push Y/N back onto the locker, suffocating her with their glares.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” The voice of Jungwon doesn’t go unnoticed by a single girl, who, all but Y/N, straighten up their hair when they realize he’s behind them.

“We’re just talking, right Y/N?” Jiwon says, pinching onto the girl tightly.

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Park Jiwon, don’t make me give you detention for picking on other students. It doesn’t make you attractive.”

The girl gasps, immediately letting Y/N go as her face heats up in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t—”

“Just go.” With one point of a finger, Yang Jungwon got Park Jiwon and her minions out of the hallway, leaving Y/N and him alone.

“You okay?” He asks her, eyes concerned.

“Thank you,” she breathes out. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why didn’t I?” He raises his eyebrows. “You were getting picked on.”

“Well, I’m not the nicest to you.” The girl says, suddenly embarrassed. “At all, actually. So thank you Jungwon, really.”

“Ah,” the boy smiles. “It’s nothing. I don’t hate you if that’s what you think, I think you have a brilliant mind just like me.”

And for the first time since she’s stepped into the school, Jang Y/N finds herself liking Yang Jungwon, and not just for his looks.

‏‏‎

“Y/N!” The loud voice of Yang Jungwon doesn’t go by Wonyoung, who gives her sister a smirk as she slightly pushes back her shoulder.

“Wonder why he’s coming,” she teases, which makes Y/N scrunch up her nose in annoyance.

“Would you like to come with me to this new bread place?” He asks, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry—I ran all the way from the cabinet office to here.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N giggles, which makes Wonyoung’s eyes pop out of their sockets because she swears she never heard that sound coming from her sister’s mouth before. “I’d love to Jungwon.”

“Great! I’ll uh.. I’ll see you later!”

Wonyoung turns to face Y/N as soon as Jungwon leaves, giving her the biggest grin ever. “What was that?!”

“Let’s just say, I don’t hate Yang Jungwon anymore.” Y/N smiles, laughing as she watches Wonyoung’s jaw practically drop to the ground.

‏‏‎

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jungwon says as he and Y/N walk to the new bread place.

“Yes,” Y/N puffs out, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”

Before she knew it, Jungwon already takes off his jacket and wraps it around the girl’s shoulder.

“Jungwon,” she whines, “then you’ll be cold!”

“It’s alright really!” He laughs, giving her a big smile. “I’m practically invincible to cold. Was just asking because you seemed to be freezing.”

“You’re sweet,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I feel really guilty for trying to one up up all the time or prove you wrong. I just hate it, you know?”

“Hate what?”

“You might not realize it but a lot of people don’t want to hear what I say because I’m a woman, and that’s it. Just because I’m a woman. Like sometimes, I have ideas just as brilliant and changing as yours, but everybody says I’m complaining and over analyzing. When you say it, with your handsome face and clear voice, everybody’s suddenly entranced, and they’re so interested in school politics.”

“So you think I’m handsome?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing back Jungwon slightly as he laughs.

“I’m kidding, Y/N. I know what you mean now. I’m sorry that I can’t change how people view and perceive things, but I want you to know that I listen to your ideas, that I care. You might not realize this either but whenever you’re talking, I always listen. Like your initiative about bringing better programs into the school, I listened through the whole thing because I just—I’m inlove with the way you articulate things and the way you speak. If I was half as good at speaking my mind like you were, I’d be unstoppable. You’re a great person, Y/N, and I’m so glad I’m able to see that.”

The way Yang Jungwon speaks about her makes Y/N want to cry and smother him in a hug, which she does a second later by bringing him into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you Jungwon.” She says, face in his neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He feels like he’s out of breath by how close the two of them were, his heartbeat racing by each second that passed. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”

‏‏‎

“Hey!” Y/N is practically used to seeing Yang Jungwon come up to her everyday now, the two even spending lunch together every two days.

“What’s up Yang?” She says, noticing a packet of papers in his hand.

“You know your feedback on my initiative? Your personalized mentorship program idea! The headmaster really liked it and he’s implementing it starting next semester with your name as the credit on it!”

Y/N’s eyes widen in joy, shrieking as her hands unconsciously come in contact with Jungwon’s, the two holding both of each other’s hands tightly as they jumped in happiness.

“You’re amazing Yang Jungwon!” She says giddily, “you really are.”

The two of them stop to stare at one another for a brief second before Jungwon finds himself leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.

When they pull away, the smiles on their faces never fades, Jungwon’s dimple ever so prominent.

“I love you,” Y/N breathes out. “My wonderful class president.”

And although Y/N is a feminist, obviously, she wouldn’t mind a man like Yang Jungwon saving her, for he taught her what love was like, and that she should never ever settle for less.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in. 

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together. 

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

[sunnebeam]

run away with me?

A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: mafia au (but no specific details in this particular drabble), mentions of sex work, making out in the car

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> this is shorter than usual but i hope it's still enjoyable. and u know the drill, don't forget to leave feedback & share ur thoughts &lt;3

— prev: everything just stops | next: this is how the world works

Yoongi's lips touch yours and all your inhibitions go away.

You deepen the kiss, having deprived yourself of him for so long so now, you can't seem to get enough. You climb out of your seat to move across the center console and onto his lap.

He plants his hands on your waist, groaning into your mouth with his lips consuming yours.

"Yoongi," you mumble against his soft lips.

"Yeah, princess?" he hums.

You pull away and he almost whines at the loss. But he quickly recovers to hear what you have to say.

"I love you, too."

He freezes.

"I love you," you repeat, smiling as you let your feelings run free. "Maybe not like how the past me loved you. But I guarantee you it's just as much, if not more."

His breath hitches before he shakes his head, chuckling.

"You have no idea how much I needed to hear you say that."

He pulls you back to him, resuming your makeout session but this time with more sentiment.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, and you kiss him back just as passionately. The atmosphere naturally starts to escalate and soon enough, you're rocking your hips against each other, seeking friction.

It's been a while since you last had sex, what with your birthday and the revelations that came with it. Your bodies crave each other desperately, having been deprived for so long.

It would be understandable if you do end up fucking in the car. But unfortunately, there's something holding you back.

A black, shiny, metallic something.

You feel its outline in one of Yoongi's pockets and you know it's a gun. Instantly, your mood plummets when you realize just how extreme his line of work is, how risky and dangerous it is.

You don't think you can handle that lifestyle.

"What's the matter, princess?"

You stare at him, your eyes that were droopy and lust-filled just seconds before are now wide and pleading.

"Yoongi," you whisper, "would you run away with me?"

For the second time that day, Yoongi freezes at your words.

"If I asked you," you continue, still in a whisper, "would you give up everything and come with me?"

"What are you saying?" he finally utters.

"I have some money saved up," you tell him. "I always knew I was gonna quit my job at the brothel eventually and I've been saving up for a while now."

You take his face in your hands, caressing his cheeks, before you ask him again one more time.

"Run away with me, Yoongi."

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[aimbutmiss]

Buggy sighed in frustration as he clenched another important document that he absolutely couldn't care less about as he tried to make sense of the words on it. Crocodile rolled his eyes at his "dramatic theatrics", as he put it. And while Buggy did indeed hold the sigh a bit longer than necessary, he could argue it was a very justified reaction. The words on the paper were basically alphabet soup in his brain as it completely shut down, unable to process any more information.

He rubbed his eyes as if that would somehow fix the problem. He felt closer to death with every second he spent inside the dreary office tent. The room was suffocating, filled with the smoke of Crocodile's never ending cigars. Buggy desperately needed fresh air and exposure to direct sunlight, or a poor crew member was going to find his corpse under all those papers by the end of the day.

"Croccy, it's been hours... How many more signatures do you need from me?"

Crocodile puffed out the smoke in his mouth as he spoke, making the air in the tent even heavier. Buggy had to hold himself back from coughing as he kept his eyes locked to the other man's unimpressed ones. "You're the one who insisted on reading all the documents when I already had done so. You could have just quickly signed all of them and left by now if you weren't so stubborn."

"Of course I have to read them! How can I trust you? You could be making me sign away my life to the slave trade for all I know!"

Crocodile laughed menacingly, the only way he knew how, as far as Buggy had seen. "No one would pay good money for you, clown. And if I wanted to sell you off I would have done it by now."

Buggy crossed his arms with a frown, ready to argue with his business partner, but he was cut by a low-ranking worker entering the tent reluctantly.

"I'm saved." He thought as Crocodile got up to talk to the poor man. He took the moment to sneak outside, limb by limb. As he put himself back together outside of the tent, he took the sunlight in with a sigh and cracked his back in relief. He was unfortunately too old and certainly too sexy for an office job. Being an Emperor was supposed to be more flashy than this god dammit!

He locked eyes with the shaky man as he left the tent, and gave him a reassuring smile. The man visibly relaxed, smiling wide as he bowed down before leaving Buggy's presence.

Buggy hated how much Crocodile ruled by fear. These were his men! He was responsible for their well-being and happiness! Well, he couldn't even protect his own well-being so how could he do the same for his enormous crew...

"Don't think so hard, your head will explode."

Buggy jumped in his place as Crocodile spoke in his ear. Too close! When had he snuck up on him? He was too tired to deal with this.

"I'm gonna go now."

"Not before you sign the papers."

"I'm tired..."

"Then don't read them."

"But I want to!"

"THEN GET BACK IN THERE!" Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool after his outburst. "Okay, you either go in willingly or I'll drag you in there myself if I have to." He moved his hook at an angle, making the light reflect off its sharp edge menacingly. And Buggy probably should have listened, but something snapped in him.

"Stop threatening me with that damn hook of yours! You know I can't get cut."

"But you can get pierced, can't you?"

Buggy gulped, sweat forming on his forehead but not daring to drop. "... You wouldn't dare."

"And why's that?"

"Because..." Buggy stared the scary man in the eyes and was somehow overcome with boldness he couldn't explain. "Because this" he gestured to his face with exaggerated motion "is what sells your shitty personality to everyone!" He was spitting out the words like venom, emphasising every word slowly. "You need me. Certainly more than I need you. You're just an overgrown accountant, but I'm a fucking Emperor. I leave, and the thousands of men under me also leave. You are nothing without me. So stop acting like you can get rid of me without consequences. I dare you to pierce me with that hook."

"..."

Buggy smiled smugly. "I'm gonna take a nap now."

He was lighter than a feather as he made his way to his tent, the smile never dropping from his face. He did it! Well, he wasn't quite free but it was certainly a step in the right direction. And sue him, he was fucking proud of himself.

As he left with his head in the clouds, he was completely unaware of the scene he left behind him. Crocodile was fuming. He felt hot with anger and another annoying, sticky emotion eating at his insides. He completely ignored Mihawk, who had been a witness to the whole conversation.

The swordsman raised a brow in question at the man's silence. "What are you gonna do now, go masturbate?"

Crocodile stared daggers at the man before turning into sand and flowing away. And he absolutely did not masturbate to thoughts about the clown. Ridiculous Hawk Eye really thought he knew everything...

(and he did.)

[fahye]

book recs: oct/nov 2023

I read an obscene number of books during my weeks travelling in the USA, so here are some highlights!

A GENTLEMAN UNDONE by cecilia grant - I actually read all three in this excellent series, but this is the highlight. a tense, engrossing regency romance between a gentleman desperate to make money in gambling halls and the woman who teaches him to count cards, who unfortunately happens to be someone else's mistress. extremely horny and very smart.

SHADOW MAGIC by jaida jones & danielle bennett - after HAVEMERCY I desperately needed the rest of the series, and happily I had dinner with jaida and dani and was given them! this one is classic political fantasy: assassins, ambassadors, a devoted bodyguard and his beautiful prince, and a flamboyant little chaos magician who wonders why nobody else in his delegation is enjoying the beautiful local Fashion Robes. this book has never had a heterosexual thought in its entire life.

AMERICAN QUEEN by sierra simone - okay, this is a rec for the entire series (AMERICAN PRINCE & AMERICAN KING follow), a modern arthur-lancelot-guinevere retelling where they're american politicians and they're all in love and kinky and fucked up about it. mostly smut, lots of angst, occasional plot. maybe the hottest thing I've ever read in my life?? damn, sierra simone knows what she's doing.

THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by robert a. heinlein - what if we were a moon colony and we decided to stage a revolutionary war and we asked a bored AI computer to run the logistics for us? I'm such a sucker for logistics, and heinlein delivers in spades. very funny, great worldbuilding, fun characters. has aged surprisingly well, I think.

10 THINGS THAT NEVER HAPPENED by alexis hall - a pure shot of gay grumpy/sunshine delivered via FAKE AMNESIA TROPE and a plot lovingly and lampshadily borrowed from the classic sandra bullock vehicle while you were sleeping. alexis hall's protagonists and glorious supporting casts always grab me, and this was no exception.

THE FALL THAT SAVED US by tamara jerée - do you like the good omens setup of bookshop angel vs. snarky demon, destined to be enemies but oh no we're in love, and you'd like to add some recovery from family trauma + sex scenes + also they're sapphic? yes. good. enjoy.

CHAIN-GANG ALL-STARS by nana kwame adjei-brenyah - holy shit!! finished this one yesterday and will be thinking about it for a long time. premise: criminals can choose to compete in deadly televised gladiator matches instead of remaining in prison. this is an absolutely brutal examination of the prison industrial complex and the violent commodification of bodies (especially bodies of colour) under our capitalist hellscape. lyrical, wonderful, cutting. very queer and very angry. I flew through it. what a fantastic book.

[a-mel0n]

This stupid "Your Name" Bucktommy AU won't leave my brain, and while I don't have enough faith in my writing skills to actually write the damn thing (and it would be my first fanfic... ever?? and that's a project that seems a bit too big for me lmao), I DID write down what I'm picturing some of the "rules" Buck and Tommy have for each other while in the other's body. Mostly just for fun. (Because Tommy would be switching in 2006, the iPhone does not exist yet, so all of his notes are written in an actual physical journal. All of Buck's notes would be on the Notes app of his phone)

TOMMY: 1) Evan, stop running into burning buildings when you don’t have to while in my body. If I wake up in a hospital bed for the fifth time this month, I might actually lose it.

its part of the job to save as many ppl as possible. also u don’t even feel the pain when i get injured in ur body.

You’re right, I don’t. Unfortunately, the pain from having a wooden beam fall on you doesn't just magically go away when we swap. Just... be more careful? Please?

fine. i’ll try and keep ur hospital visits to a minimum.

2) Can you stop flirting with people on calls? Or at the very least give them your number and not mine? In the last week alone my contact list has nearly doubled because you keep giving people my number. 

dude its not my fault you’re more popular while i’m you. just think of it as me being ur wingman! how u dont have a girlfriend is beyond me btw. hot chicks love firefighters and ur a good looking dude

Jesus Christ, Evan. For the last time, I’m single by choice.

3) Don’t shower while in my body

already dont

4) Don’t go to the bathroom while in my body 

done

5) In fact, unless you’re at work, don’t change any of my clothes while in my body. 

fair

6) Do you really need to spend so much of my paychecks on cooking supplies? I have enough pots and pans already. 

whats the point of a pantry if its half empty. be thankful ur getting actual food now via my leftovers instead of the utter tragedy that was the state of ur fridge when we first started swapping places.

7) Don’t make a scene while at work. 

your boss sucks ass and his stupid orders are going to get people killed. im not gonna listen to him if hes making bad calls while lives are on the line

Evan.

8) Don’t pick up the phone when my dad calls.

got it

BUCK: 1) quit going to eddie’s basketball pickup games. he keeps inviting me while i’m in my own body and its getting harder and harder to come up with excuses as to why i can’t go. it's kinda awkward.

I thought you’d be more grateful, Evan. You’re the coolest guy on the court when I’m you. 

2) are you making movie references when ur me? bc chim keeps asking when i got so “cultured” and the other day maddie asked when i watched the princess bride. 

You haven’t seen the Princess Bride? I’m leaving you a surprise for tomorrow. Check your couch when you wake up. 

did you spend my OWN money on a dvd??? i don’t even own a dvd player. i own every streaming service imaginable.

3) keep the finger guns to a minimum?? idk why you do them so much but both hen and chim have said smth abt it

4) if u get a call from someone called connor or kameron on my phone just let it go to voicemail its personal stuff and i'll deal with it

Evan, you could have told me you agreed to be a sperm donor yourself. Finding out because Connor and Kameron showed up at the fire house was more of a shock than finding out over these memos would have been. 

they did what?????

5) don’t talk to my parents

Done.

6) No rule about undressing? 

dude idc. i’m not gonna stop you from taking a piss in my body if u need to. as long as you like. don’t have sex with someone while you’re me? oh wait hang on i DO have a rule about undressing

7) DON’T HAVE ANY RANDOM HOOK UPS IN MY BODY. 

Wasn’t planning on it, but good to know. 

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Master list

Chapter 1 named oc x mafia yoongi

“Sir?” Minwhan asked hesitantly, seeing how perfectly still his boss was. 

“What did you just say?” Yoongi’s tone was low and each word articulated in a dangerously slow way, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line that promised swift and terrible retribution should the answer to his question be less than agreeable. “What did you just say?” He repeated after a moment when Minhwan had failed to answer, each word practically spat from his mouth. 

“The woman, the foreigner, caught in the altercation, her name was Margot Brooks.” 

The poor man stumbled over his words unsure what this information had caused such a reaction from his boss. The only reason something so insignificant had been brought up to him in the first place was because the woman was foreign and no one wanted to deal with the hassle the police would make if she brought it to them. There wasn’t much the police would actually do, but they’d put on a show to save face, and that would be a hassle for everyone involved. 

“Was she injured?”

“A little- a little bruised, I think.” He replied, stumbling over his words still reeling from the unusual reaction, and the intensity with which his boss was looking at him. “But overall I don’t think she was harmed, maybe a little shaken.” 

“I’m going to Yongsan-gu.” His boss announced, abruptly standing from his desk and shrugging on his jacket. 

“Sir?” 

“Send me the address.” 

——-

“I’m fine.” Margot assured, trying to push away the elderly man who continued to fuss over her despite the fact that she was fine, a little bruised, but fine. “You really don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Of course I do.” Tae-il huffed, taking the tray of empty dishes away from her. “And you worked all day! You don’t need to come help an old man.” 

“Someone needs to help until Maria is released from the hospital.” She reminded him gently, as she took the tray back, carrying it to the kitchen. “Besides, I like helping. It makes me feel useful.” She flashed him a grin, disappearing into the kitchen and ignoring the way her hip ached from the bruise that was firmly settled there. It was a lovely souvenir from when she had been shoved into a table the night before.

The way that Tae-il’s brow scrunched up in concern didn’t escape her. She was well aware of how much the old man loved his wife, and she was also aware of how heavily the medical expenses weighed on his mind. She suspected that they had to do with their visit from what she could only describe as a couple of thugs the night before. 

Three men had unceremoniously barged their way into the little noodle shop the night before, overturning tables, pushing her into one when she tried to stop them, and demanding their payment from Tae-il. Unfortunately, the old man had nothing to give them, and they had left with promises to return and threats about what would happen if he didn’t have their money the next time they did. 

She’d tried to ask about it. She really had, but Tae-il refused to talk about it. She suspected it was because he was too ashamed about what had happened, but this was the kind of problem that she didn’t think would go away on its own. Her thoughts weren’t really the ones that mattered here though. What mattered was what Tae-il was willing to do, and so far he was unwilling to talk about what had happened or to contact the authorities. The most that she could do was help put things back in order and help around the restaurant as much as she could even if Tae-il was insistent she didn’t need to. 

Margot had known Tae-il and Maria for years. They were old friends from her college days when she had been studying abroad. The older couple had no children of their own, and with Maria being an expat herself, they were very sympathetic and more than willing to take in a nervous college student struggling to survive in a new place on her own. They had become her self-proclaimed guardians, and when she’d returned to Korea to teach, they had insisted that she come stay with them instead of getting housing through the school as she had planned to do. 

She had just started sweeping the floors when the bell over the door sounded, informing her that a new customer had entered the space. 

She raised her head and began to sound off a polite greeting, but the words died in her throat as she saw who was walking in.

There were two men who looked quite similar to the ones who had caused so much chaos the night before and behind them entered a man dressed impeccably in a suit. This she had to assume was someone with more authority in the nonsense that Tae-il had gotten them mixed up in. 

“Yah!” She shouted, gripping the handle of the broom firmly. “We already told you we don’t have your money.” 

“Ma’am.” The two men bowed politely, making way for their boss who was staring at her with an expression that was completely indiscernible to them and that Margot simply wasn’t paying attention to as she brandished the broom in front of her almost like a weapon.

“Out!” she ordered, sweeping the broom and the subsequent dust from the floor towards them. 

“Margot?” The man in the suit spoke her name, calling her attention to him. The way he said it was odd though. It held something halfway between wild hope and disbelief.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She asked sharply. “Out!” 

“Margot.”  

He stepped forward, taking in the sight of her. The years had changed her. Of course they had. He couldn't expect her to be unchanged in all this time, but it was still her. 

Her hair was a little darker. It wasn’t as long anymore, but her eyes were the same. They were the same honeyed brown they had been then, still hidden behind a pair of glasses. They were different glasses now, but they still slipped down her nose in the way they did then. 

She eyed him warily, broom still held in front of her as if she were going to whack him with it at any given moment, but the gears were working in her head as he got closer. She was taking him in, examining him just as he had examined her, and he let her, watching with predatory grace as she put the pieces together.

“Yoongi?” she asked after a moment, recognition softening her features into surprise and disbelief instead of the open hostility she had been showing. “Min Yoongi?” 

“Margot.” his face lit up in a gummy grin as she let the broom fall, her hands going to cover her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 

“Oh my god!” 

All at once she threw herself at him, knocking them both back as he fought for a moment to keep his balance, arms locked around her as he kept them both steady. 

“I can’t believe it’s you!” she cried, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His hold was no less tight as he kept her pressed to him, relishing the feel of her in his arms. 

How many years had it been? Six? Seven? It had been far too long, but she was here now. She was here in his arms, and that was what mattered. 

She pulled back, eyes scanning his features as she fired off a rapid series of questions. “Oh my god! How long has it been? How have you been? What have you been up to these days? You look great!” 

“One question at a time.” he chuckled in the face of her enthusiasm, holding her a little tighter and prompting her to return the hug once more.

“I missed you.” she breathed out, face pressed into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

“I missed you too.” he admitted softly.

They stayed like that for a minute, both of them basking in the reunion until she let go.

“Come! Sit! Tell me all about life!” 

She pushed him towards a table, the men he entered with completely forgotten in her excitement to see her old friend again.

Yoongi obediently sat down, watching with amusement as she darted into the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” she called over her shoulder, already grabbing something for them both to drink. “Uncle makes the best jajangmyeon. You remember Uncle Tae-il right?” She asked, emerging with two bowls of noodles on a try and a carafe of water with two glasses.  

“I can’t believe this place is still here.” he admitted, smiling politely at the old man who was eyeing him warily from the kitchen, more worried for Margot than he was for his restaurant. 

They shared a look, and Yoongi understood then that Jung Tae-il was not his ally in this matter at all. The older man knew exactly what Yoongi did these days, and based on his sour expression, he didn’t want Yoongi anywhere near his business or Margot. 

“You always did make the best noodles, ahjussi.” he called with a dangerous grin, daring the other man to say anything as he enjoyed his reunion with Margot. 

“I know.” Margot sat down with a pleased smile. “I was so happy when I got back and Maria and Tae-il were still here. They were even kind enough to let me have the third floor apartment.” 

“How long have you been back?” he asked, picking up his chopsticks.

She thought for a moment, picking up her own chopsticks. “Around two years now?” She estimated. “Is that about right, Uncle?” 

Tae-il made a noncommittal noise from the kitchen, still keeping a wary eye on the interaction. 

Two years, Yoongi pondered. Two years and he hadn’t known she was here. Two years and she hadn’t reached out to him. She’d been within reach, and he hadn’t known.

“You should have reached out.” He scolded gently, and she blushed sheepishly.

“I would have,” she began hesitantly, “but we parted on such bad terms, and when I finally worked up the courage to do it, your number wasn’t in service anymore. I didn’t have any way to contact you.” 

He couldn’t fault her for that. His number had probably changed multiple times since they had parted, but it still burned him that she’d been here, within reach, for two years and he hadn’t even known. 

“Tae-il and Maria didn’t know how to reach you either. I think we all assumed you went home to Daegu after school finished.” 

But Tae-il clearly knew better, Yoongi thought to himself. The man had reached out to Yoongi’s organization for a loan that he couldn’t seem to pay back. If he had wanted, he could have told Margot that he was in the city. 

“What brought you back to Korea?” he asked after a minute, eyes fixed on her intently. 

“I came to work.” she shrugged. “I missed it here so I got a job teaching English. What about you? What have you been up to all these years? You really are looking great, Yoongi.” 

He smiled crookedly. “I’ve been doing this and that. I’ve got my own business these days.” 

“Really? Doing what?” 

“A couple different things.” he hedged, not wanting to give too much away. “But I want to hear more about you.” 

“Same old same old. I don’t think I’ve changed all that much.” 

Yoongi disagreed. She was the same, and yet he could tell that there were things about her that were different and not just about her appearance. Six years was a long time to be apart. 

“I’m teaching English at a local school, which is exhausting, but it’s good. I really enjoy the kids.” Her smile was a little more subdued now, but still bright. 

“What grades are you teaching?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he waited for her answer. He wanted to know everything that he’d missed in their time apart. 

“I’m teaching the little ones, six to ten year olds. You know?” 

“You always were good with kids.” He chuckled, shooting her another crooked grin. 

“They drive me batty, but I love them.” 

They continued in this way for a while, asking questions and sharing answers back and forth even after they’d finished their meal. Tae-il continued to keep a close eye on them, clearly anxious for when Yoongi and his men, who had taken a seat away from Margot and Yoongi were sitting waiting for their boss to make a move and more than a little bemused by what they were seeing.

The two had settled into old rhythms as they talked, like the fight that had occurred just before she’d left had never happened. It was as if the six years they’d been apart were washed away, and they were right back where they left off, thick as thieves. 

“I should let you go.” Margot said after a while, standing to collect both of their bowls, as well as the empty carafe and cups. “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to take up your whole evening.” 

“You can take my evenings anytime.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully but didn’t say anything as she returned the dishes to the kitchen where Tae-il was anxiously waiting for her. 

“Margot,” he began, practically wringing his hands. “I think they should go. That young man… that young man is trouble.” 

She looked at him confused. “It’s just Yoongi, Uncle. You remember him from when I was here for college right?” 

He shook his head anxiously. “That is not the same boy you knew. The best thing is to get him out of here and forget the whole conversation ever happened.” 

She was going to argue, but seeing how anxious Tae-il was gave her pause. “I’ll see him out, Uncle.” 

He shot her a grateful smile and returned to what he had been doing before she entered, keeping a watchful eye on her as she went back out.

As she entered the main space again, she saw the two men from earlier talking with Yoongi in hushed tones. Yoongi’s expression set into a grim line she wasn’t familiar with. 

“But, boss, aren’t we here about the money?” One of them asked, and Margot’s blood ran cold. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Yoongi snapped, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Be grateful that I didn’t skin you and those other fuckers alive for what happened last night. You’re lucky she isn’t injured.” 

The bruise on her hip seemed to throb in time with his words as the realization of what he was saying sunk in like a stone settling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Boss?” She asked, her voice both confused and indignant. She stepped back, breaking away from his hold. “Those men worked for you?” 

“Margot…” Yoongi shot up from the table, eyes wide as he looked at her. He took a step forward, reaching for her, but she took a step back, reaching down for the broom propped against the wall. 

She took another step back, holding the broom in front of her as a weapon once more. 

“You’re the one who sent those guys here last night?” She demanded the hurt and confusion clear on her face as she stared at him.

“Margot, I can explain.” He tried, but she was having none of it, pushing the broom at him menacingly to keep him back. 

“Don’t.” she hissed, tears welling up in her eyes. “Is that the business you run? You terrorize old men and women? You extort money from them?” With every sentence her voice rose in pitch, hysteria rising along with bile in her throat.

“Margot…”

“Get out!” she shouted, pushing the broom at him again. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” 

With every yell she pushed him closer and closer towards the door, and with every push Yoongi’s temper rose. He’d only just gotten her back. She was finally within reach again, and now she was trying to push him away? He wasn’t going to accept that lying down.

“Margot,” He growled, grabbing the handle of the broom and wrenching the wretched thing away from her. “Let me explain. This isn’t what it seems.” 

She scrambled a couple steps back, trying to put some distance between them. “I think it’s exactly what it seems like.” 

“I’m still your Yoongi, Margot.” he tried to plead, schooling his features into something soft, something gentle despite his rising frustration.

“The Yoongi I knew didn’t terrorize people,” she spat, venom on her tongue despite the tears welling in her eyes still. “Or extort them for money.”

“Get out.” she ordered, softly now but sternly. 

“Margot…” 

“Out!” she whispered fiercely. “Before I call the police.” When he didn’t move she took one step forward and then another until they were toe to toe. “Out!” she ordered shoving him back with both hands against his chest. “Out!” 

They continued in this way with Margot pushing him back and Yoongi allowing her to do so while his men watched on flabbergasted as he did until they got to the door. It was at that point that Yoongi grabbed her hands, stopping her from shoving him again, and stared down at her with an indiscernible expression. 

“You’re upset now.” he conceded, gently squeezing her hands in his where they were still resting against his chest. “We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down, yeah?” 

Keeping both of her wrists secured in one of his hands, he gently brushed some hair out of her face, watching silently as the tears started to fall, but Yoongi knew better than most that these were frustrated tears, angry tears. There was no use trying to explain to her now, not when she was like this. 

“Get the fuck out.” she hissed, wrenching her hands away from him and taking a few steps and clutching her hands to her chest as though she had been burned. 

“Tae-il nim!” he called, looking over her head towards where the older man was watching the interaction anxiously. “Say hi to the missus for me, yeah?” 

All the color drained from Tae-il’s face, and the heat rose in Margot’s cheeks as her fury rose, but before she could say anything, Yoongi had already turned to go, motioning in a lackadaisical way for his men to follow behind as if this had been all been normal, casual even. 

Tae-il and Margot watched as they all drove away, not saying a word until they were out of sight and they were both sure they weren’t coming back. 

Slowly, Margot turned to her old friend, the grief and horror caused by the revelation written across her face. “What are we going to do?”

Part two

[rougepancake]

The Summoning (ch. six)

FT. Leon x Gym Leader!F!Reader

series m.list

WARNINGS: This chapter seems all over the place, but I promise it’ll come together towards the end. I made some interesting choices when it came to certain characters, but I believe that each choice works well with the story. I didn’t proofread this too well, so if there’s any major mistakes, please let me know!

Hammerlocke stadium towered over Gloria as she stood before it. For some reason, this gym seemed much more intimidating than the others. She had to stop and make sure that she was ready, despite training nonstop since she left your gym. Hop didn’t, however, and had run along to challenge the gym’s leader. Marnie was nowhere to be found, but Gloria didn’t mind. She had mentioned a while back that she was set to be the next gym leader of Spikemuth. Bede had gone missing too, but she thought he’d be fine. He seemed independent enough anyhow.

The battle against you had shaken her some. She knew her strength, but fighting against you made her doubt herself. That’s why she was apprehensive about facing Raihan. If you were able to make her question her every move, then what would Raihan do to her? She shook her head, hesitating to take a step forward. To the untrained eye, she looked like an anxious gym challenger, yet to those that she challenged, they’d recognize her resolve crumbling. Up until now she had sailed through the gym challenge, simply due to observing those around her. But you… you had honestly frightened her.

Seeing that video of you battling the Kommo-o had just unnerved her further. She was thankful she didn’t witness it, seeing as she would’ve been to paralyzed by fear to escape. You were just that powerful.

She sighed. She didn’t have the time to think about that right now. She needed to defeat Raihan. Gloria looked down at the Pokéballs strapped to her waist. She could feel that things were going to gradually get more intense, she just didn’t know how. She thought back to the stories her mother would tell her before she passed. Each region has had a crisis with its legendary Pokémon in recent years, which Gloria believed to be part of a bigger picture. The most recent one was a few years ago when the Alolan region had things called ‘ultra wormholes’ open up. Researchers and trainers from all over jumped at the opportunity to see the phenomena, including her mother. Different wormholes led to different worlds, some that were even inhabited by human-like beings and Pokémon.

Gloria sighed. She was getting ahead of herself. She needed to defeat Leon before she could do anything about Alola. Her mind wandered off to her encounter with Zacian back in the Slumbering Wield. For whatever reason, Hop hadn’t seen it. Instead, Zamazenta had been the one to reveal itself to him. But why? How had those two legendary Pokémon picked them? What had led up to that decision? She sighed again. Her bloodline meant something to them. Hop’s too. Could they have possibly fought alongside them in a past life?

Hop suddenly rushed out of Hammerlocke stadium, running straight for her. She jumped at the sight of him. If only he were aware that he was a small piece in a much bigger puzzle.

“He beat me! He beat me!” He wailed, throwing himself into Gloria’s arms dramatically. She chuckled before pushing him away. Hop himself was a strong trainer, it was his emotions that he let run him. That’s mostly what caused him to lose. “He’s really strong, Gloria! Make sure you’re prepared!” She shook her head. She was always prepared.

She began to sign out her words. Her hearing aid hadn’t been working for quite some time, which made it a struggle for her to get through the gym challenge. She planned on getting a new one with the money she saved up from her gym challenge, but that wouldn’t be for another month or so. It was unfortunate.

‘What is his trial like?’ She signed out slowly, since Hop wasn’t exactly too quick with his Galarian Sign Language. She stopped and looked at him, glancing at his lips every now and then as he formulated a response.

“Oh it’s simply awful!” Hop whined, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “He drags out three of his gym trainers and makes you prove your worth! That’s it! But they’re soooo strong!!!” He groaned and hung his head. He was such a character. Always dramatic. Gloria smiled, nodding in response.

‘See you on the other side,’ she responded, grinning at him. Hop frowned and pouted at her.

“You’ve got this, Gloria! Kick his butt on my behalf!” He waved her off and ran in the direction of the PokéCenter. She watched as he left, gripping the straps of her bag tightly. She then turned to face the looming building that was Hammerlocke stadium. She swallowed nervously. This was simply just another step in her challenge.

She began to walk across the bridge, taking her time with each step. This battle would be easy. Hopefully. According to sources, Raihan wasn’t in it for the game, but for the thrill of battle. If she could throw him off with strategy, then she’d continue on undefeated. Gloria pushed past the doors to the gym lobby. Raihan met her there.

“Yo! I’ve been waiting for ya!” He grinned, showcasing his weirdly sharp teeth. She cringed. “Follow me.”

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

You sat in your living room, your head between your hands as you stared down at your floor. Piers had since gone back to Spikemuth, promising to return later to check in on you. Leon however, was sitting across from you, his eyes full of worry. He didn’t know what to say or what to do that could make you feel just a bit better. He felt… guilty.

“Leon. Eternatus is clearly trying to get ahold of me,” you started out, “but why? Why is Opal’s family connected to it? What connections did they have to the Darkest Day? And…” you looked up slowly, your eyes meeting his. Realization had struck you. “It’s not just me,” you muttered in awe, your mouth slightly agape.

“What do you mean? Is Eternatus reaching out to people other than you?” He cocked his head to the side, racking his brain to make sense of the situation.

“That child, Gloria, and your brother Hop. They encountered the sword and the shield Pokémon in the Slumbering Wield a day or so ago, right? Those Pokémon hadn’t been seen in nearly two hundred years before that. Think about it, they must be able to sense that something dangerous is happening in the region,” you got up and walked over to the bookshelf that stood in the corner of the room. Dozens of history filled books lined the shelves, each of them provided by Opal. You scanned the shelves, your eyes landing on a book that you had seen many times before. You just hadn’t been aware of its significance up until now. “There must be something important about the both of those children that caused them to show themselves…” you slowly opened up the book, skimming through its pages manically. There was something in particular that you just needed to confirm. Sure enough. There it was.

A drawn out family tree of Opal’s bloodline took up two full pages, and two more families followed it. Opal’s handwriting was at the bottom of the page, drawing you into the generation. On the next set of pages was a tree of names that you couldn’t recognize. The last name added to the tree was a child, descendant of Adriana, named Gloria.

“Leon…” you whispered, turning around with the book in your hands. You continued to scan its contents, your eyes reading over each name on the tree. You hesitated to turn the page. Another, slightly shorter family tree met your eyes. The latest addition to the line was a child, descendant of Cedrinne, named Hop. Opal had documented their births, which ultimately connected them to you. “Look…” you passed off the book to him. You weren’t quite sure what this meant. And you couldn’t remember if you had any more of Opal’s old books that explained the significance of it all. You looked back at the bookshelf and then back at Leon.

If Opal’s ancestors were worshippers of the being that was Eternatus, then what were Gloria and Hop’s? Were they firm believers in the sword and shield Pokémon? Had they worshipped them? Were there hidden statues in their honor? You felt your heartbeat grow faster, now pounding within your chest. What did this mean? The world spun around you. This felt horribly surreal. Two fifteen year olds and a twenty something year old had been picked by Pokémon that were powerful beyond belief and for what? Was it them that would save the region?

“I…” Leon looked up at you, his eyes widening. You looked pale, and you had broken out into a cold sweat. “Are you alright?” He asked slowly. Setting aside the book, he got up and reached for you, to which you rejected.

“We need to go to the clearing,” you blurted out. “I’m going to see if I can get answers. I need answers.” You pushed past him, grabbing your coat and sliding it over your arms. You struggled to put on your shoes, your hands shaking terribly. Leon rushed to follow you.

“How are you even going to do that?” His tone was filled with nothing other than worry as he copied your movements. Once he had his coat on, he waited for your next move. You seemed frantic, and it was bothering him. He wasn’t sure why, but it was.

“I’m going to reach out to it this time. The last time I saw it, I was shown the true importance of that area. If I can just get it to show me more, then maybe I’ll be able to piece some of this together and have it finally make sense. And maybe then we can formulate a plan to deal with Eternatus and Rose.” You walked briskly, pushing past various tree branches that blocked your path. This plan needed to work. If it didn’t, then you’d be at a total loss. Everything would have been for nothing and Eternatus would then be unstoppable.

“Y/n…” The man behind you stammered, holding his phone in his hands. You payed him no mind and continued on. “Y/n!” He raised his voice slightly, which caused you to jump. Slowly, you turned around to face him. “Hop and his friends… they beat Raihan…” Your expression fell. Shit! You thought that you would have more time to figure out a plan together. Now… now he was leaving. Now you’d be back to square one.

“Damnit,” you huffed, looking at him with a pained expression. You didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, anyways. You needed him. After all he had done to help you, you needed him! “Well, I suppose you ought to get back to Wyndon,” you frowned, hanging your head slightly. “I’ll let you know if I come up with anything, alright? I don’t doubt that they’ll want me to participate in the competition, so I’ll be seeing you soon enough,” you paused, “just don’t get lost.”

“Got it,” he nodded, giving you a wide smile. A heat rose to your cheeks. “Just be careful out here. I’ll…” he cleared his throat, “I’ll see you soon.” Leon turned his back to you and began heading back to your house.

You continued on to the clearing. It somehow looked much more dead than the last time you were here, as if the life had been drained from it entirely. The statue stood before you in all its glory. You felt the strength of its presence. The hairs on the back of your neck rose. An overwhelming feeling washed over you, and suddenly everything went black.

Your eyes were wide open, yet you couldn’t see anything. Scared, you called out, sticking your arms out to feel for something you could lean on. There was nothing. In fact, you couldn’t even hear the ambience of the forest anymore. You turned around and your sight returned. Eternatus was in front of you, seemingly restless. It was as if it wanted something from you.

Hesitantly, you stepped forward, hoping to touch it. Your hand was a few centimeters away when the scenery changed. The two of you were back in the clearing, right next to the statue, which appeared to be in pretty rough condition. The creature let out a cry.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, frustrated. It wouldn’t give you answers. It couldn’t. The thought upset you. If it had been putting you through all of this, then why couldn’t it answer a simple question? Eternatus stood still, its silence eerie. The sound of footsteps made you redirect your attention. Your eyes widened. “Opal…”

The woman appeared to be a bit older than the last time you had seen her, and behind her followed a teenage version of yourself. “I’ve told you before that this is our history, but I’ve never told you why,” the older woman smiled, her eyes focused on the statue. She turned to face the younger you, gesturing for you to come closer. She had a far off look in her eye that made your heart clench. Oh how you missed her.

Opal cleared her throat before sitting down gently on the grass. “Come now, child. This story is quite a long one.” You looked at Eternatus. So this was its way of responding to you. You looked back at Opal and yourself. It had been here all along. A gasp escaped you at the sudden realization.

“A very long time ago, an event called the Darkest Day took place. It caused the Pokémon in the region to dynamax randomly, which led to chaos. That statue right there is a depiction of the creature that caused all of that chaos. It fed off of the energy that dynamaxing provided up until the two kings defeated it. With the help of the sword and the shield Pokémon, they were able to save the region and capture the creature. But they didn’t know what to do with it. Would they bury it? Would they turn it in? Well, they didn’t do either of those things. The brothers chose to pass it off to the region’s strongest line of psychics,” she grinned, “those psychics, dear child, are my ancestors. They entrusted them to properly handle the situation, to which they decided to trap its soul within the statue. Since then, it’s been a tradition to prepare the next in line for the responsibility of their choice. We look after it.

“You see, each of the women in my bloodline has had a connection to this being. Some have even reported to see it in their dreams,” she sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to do the same, due to your situation and relation to the family,” Opal paused, her eyes searching yours, “I believe that if it wants to reach out to you, then it will find a way. I’ve no doubt that it can sense that you’re now a member of the family. And while I understand that this is very exciting for a child your age, I need you to understand that this is a dangerous being. The statue must never break, or its soul will return to its body, do you understand—“

The memory faded away slowly. Opal had been the last thing to dissolve, which only hurt your heart more. Vast nothingness now surrounded you and Eternatus.

“You…” you muttered, staring at it in awe. “You want to be freed of this curse…” you trailed off slowly. “But… if you’re still in the statue when Rose awakens your physical body, then what? Won’t you just go anyway?” The Pokémon roared at your question. “I’m guessing that’s a no…” A sudden shock ran through your body, causing you to gasp.

“Save… me…” a deep and powerful voice echoed within your head. It sounded incredibly raspy, its words hardly intelligible. Shivers ran down your spine. You had no clue that it could communicate.

“But… I can’t!” You took a step back. “You’re stuck here for a reason! How am I supposed to believe that you won’t go with Rose when your body is awakened? This is dangerous. You’re dangerous. I refuse to put my region at risk.” It roared. Opal’s voice suddenly met your ears.

“You misunderstand… child…” each word was choppy, as if Eternatus was sifting through its memories to get to you. “I’m… right here. Rose… won’t… have me.” You groaned and covered your ears, shutting out the voice.

“Stop that! I’m not letting you out!” You shouted, taking another step back from it. You stumbled and fell. When you landed, the void around you had disappeared, the original sight of the clearing greeting you. The statue’s aura seemed much more intense than when you had gotten there, and it unnerved you. Slowly, you rose to your feet. You did your best to dust off the dirt from your rear before inspecting the statue. Everything seemed fine. No cracks or anything.

A loud, shrill cry suddenly met your ears. The sound was followed by a few thunderous footsteps. Each one shook the forest floor, and each one brought it closer to you. Horror struck you as you stared. Above you towered a dynamaxed Espurr, a Pokémon that was said to not have any control over its psychic abilities. You panicked as you felt around for at least one of your Pokéballs. Quickly, you threw out the first one you could find. Polteageist.

The Espurr cried out and stomped its foot, causing a few of the nearby trees to fall. Your heart sank. The trees weren’t the only thing that had fallen. The statue was now on the ground, reduced to nothing but tiny pieces. A black cloud flew from the rubble and into the sky. That must’ve been Eternatus’ soul. It vanished in an instant, taking the dynamaxed energy away from the Espurr and knocking it unconscious.

“Oh no…” you muttered, looking up at the sky.

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

There was nothing more Leon feared than losing. Without his title as the champion, he'd be nothing. He sat in his private locker rooms, his head hung between his shoulders. From everything that Hop had told him, Gloria sure was a force to be reckoned with. Even Raihan admitted that he had a tough time battling her. He was proud of the girl for making it so far into the gym challenge, but he had a nagging feeling. If Gloria was strong enough to take both you and Raihan out on the first go, then what did that mean for him? Would he too struggle and inevitably lose?

He frowned. Being the champion was all he had ever known. He had remained undefeated since the tender age of ten, taking down the former champion at eleven. All he had ever really gotten the chance to do with his life was fight. Now he regretted it. He wished he had chosen something different as his passion. It was too late now, however. Leon was doomed to repeat an endless cycle of repetitive winning.

The intercom crackled as the speaker called for all of the challengers to make their ways to the locker rooms for further information. The first round of preliminary battles were about to take place. There were four singular challengers. Only one, if any, would be able to claim the title as champion.

Leon sat up, turning to look at the wall beside him. He wondered if you had managed to discover anything in reference to Eternatus. He couldn't help but worry. You had seemed so sure of yourself when he left, plus you had yet to send him any kind of message-

His phone suddenly began to ring. He picked it up immediately, holding to his ear as he waited for you to begin speaking.

"Leon this is bad," you sounded out of breath, as if you had been running. His heart sank. "Leon this is so bad. Eternatus' soul was trapped inside the statue! It wanted me to free it, and I told it no, but right after that a dynamaxed Espurr appeared and fucking knocked it over!! Leon! That accursed thing broke the statue!" your voice wavered. You were panicked, and now, of course, Leon was too. "If it get's back to its physical form, then we're done for! All of that research, all of that hard work we put in- wasted! Leon Galar is fucking doomed!" He heard you let out a sob. "It's all my fault..."

"Hey hey hey- wait- um," he choked on his words. Fuck. Eternatus was free. That meant that he and you were staring the inevitable doom of the region in the face. "You need to tell Rose. He needs to know what's going on. Where are you? I'm heading out. Hey, take a deep breath. We'll put a stop to this."

You sniffled, holding your breath to prevent you from letting out another sob. "I'm at my place... the boys are out at the gym... if they found me like this I- fuck..." You mumbled, simply verbalizing your current thoughts. Leon sighed and stood up. You hung up, leaving him alone with his thoughts. If he wasn't scared before, he definitely was now. He grabbed his cape and threw it over his shoulders before briskly walking out into the lobby. Several fans stopped him, but he pushed onward. Oh if only they knew the amount of trouble they were in.

He managed to grab a flying taxi and head out to Ballonlea. He tipped the cabby and rushed towards your house. The sky was dark. A storm was coming.

Dread filled him as he set foot in Ballonlea. The weight of his current situation was just now beginning to hit him. He was at a loss. If Eternatus was free, then what did that mean for Rose’s plan? His heart sank. If the soul and the body had been separated, then there was a chance that Eternatus was trying to get back to stop the use of its body. Unfortunately, the chances of that being the case were slim.

You came into his line of sight, your eyes puffy from crying. Without warning, you ran up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. A sob escaped you. Leon could feel his own eyes begin to water. He couldn’t tell if this was the end and it scared him. He hesitated to return your embrace. His heart throbbed in his chest. The moment felt so incredibly bittersweet that he didn’t know if he wanted it to last forever or not. Having you so close to him reminded him of how much you meant to him. You were everything.

After a few minutes, he let you go, taking a step back so you could collect yourself. It didn’t take you long to catch your breath before you led him back to your house. You stared down at the ground the whole time, your eyes focused on nothing in particular. It hurt him to see you in such a state. You looked broken, and there wasn’t anything he could do to help fix that. He frowned and looked away.

You opened the front door and let him in, avoiding looking directly into his eyes. You feared that he would get mad at you. Actually, you hoped that he would. You wanted him to put the blame on you and accept things as they were. If he did that, then maybe it’d be easier for him to handle it. Oh what were you thinking. You’d fall apart if he blamed you. Yet you felt you deserved it.

With a sigh, you sat down onto the couch. Bede and Allister were still out, blissfully unaware of what was soon to come. Your lip quivered slightly as you thought about what to say. Was there even anything you could say? ‘Sorry I fucked up and now the region is done for.’

“It’s not your fault.” Leon’s words pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at him with teary eyes. “How were you supposed to know that was going to happen?”

“But I—“ you sniffled, looking back down at the floor. He walked over and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around you. “Opal chose me to watch over it… and I—“ you cut yourself off with a sob. Leon pulled you closer to him and rested his head atop of yours. He wished he could offer you some advice. He really wanted to be able to tell you that everything would be fine.

But he just didn’t know.

He pulled away and grabbed you by the shoulders. His eyes searched yours in silence, as he was too awestruck by your beauty to form a sentence. He swallowed nervously. “I don’t know if this is the end or not, but I wanted to tell you that I’m so glad that I got the opportunity to know you better,” he took a second to gather his thoughts, “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else…” he could feel himself beginning to tear up. If only he could tell you just how much he loved you. But now wasn’t the time. It would never be the time.

“I…” you sighed. Suddenly you were at a loss for words. Your heart ached, and you longed to tell him how you yearned for him, but you knew you couldn’t. You feared that now wasn’t an appropriate time. But if not now, then when? “Leon… I never thought I’d grow close to you. But… I’m happy that I did. I… I’m not sure if it’s all going to end soon, so I wanted to say—“

He leaned in and gently placed his lips against yours. When he leaned back, he saw your widened eyes and panicked. He quickly scooted back, looking away out of embarrassment. He could feel his face burning.

“S-Sorry! I-I thought that— and uh— um…” he trailed off, his voice rising in pitch the longer he spoke. It had been so long since the last time he had felt this embarrassed. He wanted to disappear.

“Can you do that again?” You asked slowly, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. His head whipped around, his eyes wide as he stared at you. He couldn’t believe that you were serious. In fact, he was overjoyed. Forget about the world possibly ending, the one he’s in love with just asked him for another kiss. He could actually die in peace now.

Experimentally, he placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin gently. He then leaned in, planting another kiss on your lips. You leaned into it this time, placing your hand atop his. You could feel him smile before he pulled away.

“I think I might—“ Leon was interrupted by the sound of the door practically being kicked open. Instinctively, he scooted away from you, his eyes widened.

“Y/n!” Bede screamed, nearly tripping over his own feet when he saw you in the living room. He was horribly out of breath, and his eyes were wide with fear. You rushed over to him. He grabbed you by your shoulders and let out a choked sob. “A-Allister’s Mimikyu dynamaxed while we were out! I t-tried to stop it, but it t-took out my team so fast a-and… he said he’d be able to handle it b-but…!” You stopped him, your expression serious.

“Stay here with Leon,” your voice quivered slightly. Allister didn’t have any other Pokémon besides Mimikyu, so how was he going to take it down? Wait a second… you recalled seeing another Pokéball in his room, but you were sure that this mystery Pokémon wasn’t strong enough to take down Mimikyu. You looked back at Leon briefly before rushing out of the house.

Thunder rolled in the distance, nearly covering up the loud cry of a Pokémon that came from the Glimwood Tangle. You ran off in the direction, making sure you had Chandelure ready. You hoped that you’d be able to reach it in time, and feared what would happen if you didn’t. The world flew by as you ran, the cries gradually growing closer.

A soft groan met your ears, causing your heart to sink. You ran out into a clearing where the enraged Mimikyu had settled. To your left stood Allister, and in front of him was a tired looking Dusclops. You ran over to him and pushed him to the side. In the same movement, you brought out Chandelure, giving it free rein over the battle. You grabbed the child, looking at him with teary eyes. His mask was broken, hanging off of his face and revealing one of his eyes. He looked horrified, as did you.

You got up and turned around, watching as Chandelure fought off the Pokémon. You began to aid it, calling out moves and commands. Now that you were between it and Allister, you could rest easy. But not too easy. See, the thing with Allister’s Mimikyu was that it was by far one of the strongest Pokémon you had ever seen. You had just made sure to keep him unaware of that fact. It had always been an issue for you while training with him, unfortunately, but you knew that having this secret was for his own good.

With your body in between Allister and Mimikyu, you were practically a shield. At this point, you were willing to take a hit from the thing if it meant that he would be safe. You winced as Chandelure was attacked. Its pain was your own, and you could feel it gradually growing weaker. A pained expression crossed your features. Your knees began to weaken. You weren’t sure if you and your partner could keep this up for much longer. You frowned, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

But it never came. In fact, Mimikyu had returned to its normal form all on its own, now laying on the forest floor unconscious. You looked at it in shock before turning to face the child. He had been frozen in terror, a sight that shattered your heart.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” You asked back to back, moving him as you inspected his current state. You shook him as you spoke. The absolute fear in your voice would grow to be something he’d never forget. You pulled him into your arms and held him as tight as you possibly could, not giving him room to breathe. Tears welled in your eyes. Oh you were so worried. It made you more than happy to know that he was alright. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay? I’m sure Bede will be happy to see you,” you finally stepped back, fixing his mask with a smile. You gathered Mimikyu and carried it, walking alongside the Dusclops that Allister had summoned.

It was a miracle that it had withstood Mimikyu’s attacks so well. You couldn’t help but be amazed. How had he managed to find a Pokémon as strong as this one? Did he just get lucky? Surely not.

“We’re almost back to town,” you turned to look over your shoulder, giving him another soft smile. You froze. “Allister?” You turned around, your eyes wide. “Allister?!” You called, panic washing over you. “ALLISTER??” You raised your voice in hopes that he would respond. Yet you heard nothing. “Shit shit shit…” The Dusclops beside you sensed your worry, trailing alongside you as you walked deeper into the Glimwood Tangle. He had been right behind you the whole time! How had he vanished so quickly?! Your heart raced and you handed off Mimikyu to the Dusclops before breaking out into a full sprint on your search.

“ALLISTER!!” You shouted, out of breath. No response. You stopped. Your running had led you to the clearing where the statue of Eternatus once stood. Dread filled you. It was no coincidence that you would up back here, you were sure of it. You looked around the area frantically, stopping when you saw the child sitting in front of the base of the statue. He turned to face you as you got closer.

“My premonition…” he took off his mask and set it to the side. “I-It’s going to be fulfilled soon…”

A nervous chuckle left your lips. Fuck. “Come now Allister, let’s get you out of here and back home,” you extended your hand for him to take. He stood up and you picked him up, carrying him on your back carefully. It had been quite a long time since you had done this, but you figured the timing was right. You frowned as you carried him back to the house.

“Y/n..?”

“Yes?”

“What was that place?”

“Just an old shrine for the two kings, Allister.”

“Alright.”

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

“Those trainers that are fighting in the wild area are getting killed.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Rose slammed his hands down onto the table, causing some tea to spill. Oleana flinched, her eyes widening slightly before she cleared her throat. He sighed and stood upright, fixing his tie in an attempt to maintain professionalism. He turned around and looked out at the large window. “What I meant to say was, I’m already aware of that unfortunate fact.”

“Is there not anything that you can do?” She gave him an exasperated look. She wasn’t sure if her love for him was worth it anymore. “Can you not issue a warning? This is a serious matter!”

“They knew the dangers when they signed up to take those Pokémon down,” he retorted. He couldn’t do this much longer. “It’s no one’s fault but their own, do you understand?”

“But Chairman the—“

“Do you understand?!” He whipped his head around, giving her a serious glare that caused her to wince. She frowned, hanging her head in shame.

“I understand.” She mumbled, rising from her seat in silence. She turned to leave, but stopped. There were so many things that she wanted to say to him, but he wouldn’t listen. He would never truly listen to her. Sadness filled her heart. He was so horrible to her. She hated him. But oh, what would she do without him?

The sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor echoed as she made her way to the door. Once again, Rose was alone. His eye twitched. His plan would be executed soon enough, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

He grabbed his teacup and threw it across the large room in a fit of rage. Watching it shatter gave him a small feeling of satisfaction. The little glass pieces shined on the floor, each one reflecting a different perspective. He watched it in awe. Each piece reminded him of the different stages of his life. First his family, then his gym challenge, and then his rise to fame as the Chairman. His heart ached at the sight.

There simply was no escaping the path that he took to get there.

It seemed that he couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without being reminded of how much he had lost. And he had lost so much. He swallowed thickly. If his plan worked, then he wouldn’t have to lose ever again. No one would. In fact, the Galar region would simply be a thing of the past.

Rose laughed bitterly. He found it ironic that he feared death, despite having nothing more to lose. He thought of Oleana and sighed, hanging his head. The thought of her made his knees weak. He found her to be utterly annoying, and yet, she had been the only person to stay by his side since he had taken on the position as chairman. A tear rolled down his cheek. Confused, he wiped it away. He didn’t care for her that much, did he? He shook his head. There was no way. She was insufferable. But… was she really insufferable or was she simply just trying to help him.

He froze. Everything he ever thought about her he began to doubt. When was the last time she had smiled? He had no clue. Another tear fell, and then another, and then another until he was fully crying at the thought of someone caring about him that much.

He wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered. Maybe he did have something to lose.

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

Piers had booked a room at the Rose of the Rondelands so he could be with Marnie for the Champion Cup tournament. The final rounds between the final challenger and the gym leaders was set to commence tomorrow. Both he and you were set to battle in it, as well as Raihan. It was sure to be an interesting series of battles. If Gloria were to win each of her battles and move on to the next round with Leon, then that battle would commence immediately after the final round ended. It would be a back to back event, with fans from all over tuning in to see the challenger Gloria fight.

The sound of knocking tore him from his thoughts, causing him to jump slightly. “Oh, come in.” He called weakly. Marnie opened the door, followed by Gloria and Hop. The children’s worried gazes made him frown. “What’s wrong? Did ya not get t’ the dessert bar in time?” Hop shook his head and frowned.

“Do you know where Lee is? He promised he’d meet us for dinner, but we can’t find him anywhere!” He sighed, hanging his head. Gloria placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“I don’t. Have you tried lookin’ around? He really could be anywhere,” Piers stretched as he rose to his feet. “Come on, let’s go lookin’ for ‘im. I’m sure he’s not too far from here.” He led the way out of the room and to the elevator. “So when was the last time you saw ‘im?” Hop furrowed his brows in thought.

Gloria began to sign. ‘He appeared right after we finished the first round.’

“Oh yeah! That’s right! He looked like he had gotten there in a hurry, and he seemed real desperate to spend time with me and Gloria over here!” Hop paused and frowned once again. “But then he vanished. He told us that it would be a late meal, but we had no clue it was going to be this late!”

“They were telling me about it, an’ I figured that you might know somethin’ since you’re in kahoots with him,” Marnie shrugged. “I don’t wan’ t’ send you on a wild goose chase just because.” Piers nodded understandingly.

The group walked out of the hotel lobby and into the parking lot. For some reason, despite it being about nine pm, the area was rather busy. They walked through the crowd and headed towards the plaza, where they were greeted by even more people. Piers looked around, growing more and more suspicious of the situation. He looked at Marnie, who returned his look. So she could feel it too.

“Why don’t you go check th’ station?” He looked at Gloria, who nodded in response. “And you, purple hair, why don’t you check the other end of th’ plaza. Marnie, I need you to go get some of the nearby Team Yell members.” She nodded and ran off. Each of the children went their separate ways, which gave him some time to think before he executed a plan.

His eyes scanned the crowd. An unusual amount of league staff members were in the crowd, doing their best to blend in by interacting with the crowd. Odd. Usually there was one by the station, but now there were at least five or six mixed into the cluster of civilians before him. Come to think of it, those civilians hardly seemed… well… to be normal. Piers was a well known celebrity in the region, and not one of them had turned to acknowledge him. He hated to seem selfish, but he found it incredibly strange.

Gloria rushed up to him, signing frantically about some guy in the station that had battled her and ran. She said that he was working for Macro Cosmos, the company that Rose owned. Piers scowled. Of course.

“Where did he go?” He looked around, looking for something— anything suspicious. If he could get a lead, then he’d be set. All he needed was a hint. He looked over at Gloria. She informed him that this staff member had a different set of sunglasses than the usual ones did. He smirked. That was all he needed.

Marnie returned with the Team Yell members, each one of them eager to help out. Piers quickly explained their situation to them before sending them off in search of the staff member. He instructed Gloria and Marnie to stay together in the plaza while they looked. He’d rather they face off this stranger side by side than them be alone. There was no telling how far this guy was willing to go.

It didn’t take them long to find that son of a bitch. When they did, Piers had stepped up to battle him head on, but Gloria offered herself up instead. Her raw talent never failed to amaze him, and apparently Hop felt the same way, seeing as he watched the battle very closely.

“Hey kid, you’re staring,” he elbowed Hop with a smirk, resulting in the kid’s face turning a bright shade of red. He chuckled and directed his attention back to Gloria, who had finished her battle and was now facing them. She told them that they could now use the monorail, but they’d have to be quick. Apparently Leon was at Rose Tower.

“You guys go on ahead,” Marnie took a step back from them. She looked apprehensive. “I’ll deal with these numbskulls and join you over there,” she turned around and headed off in the direction of the hotel. Gloria turned to Piers, gazing up at him expectantly.

“You expect me to lead this mission?” She smiled slowly and he sighed. “Alright, come on you two. We’re in this together.”

When they got to Rose Tower, they stopped. After all, Piers didn’t really know what to do. It’s not like they could just rush in there and demand that they see Leon—

“I’m gonna go right on in there and demand that they let me see my big brother!” Hop huffed as he began marching toward the tower’s entrance. Piers rolled his eyes and Gloria held him back.

“That’s a bad idea. You need t’ work out a plan,” he crossed his arms and sighed. This was difficult alright. And it sure was strange.

“I have! I want to see my brother!” Hop raised his voice, glaring daggers at Piers. “And you can’t stop me!” He turned on his heels and stormed into the building. Gloria ran after him, worry painting her face. Children. Leave it to them to make poor decisions. He sighed. He was going to keep his happy ass right here just in case those two needed anything. He doubted it though. They were quite the duo.

“Gloria, you didn’t have to follow me.” Hop crossed his arms inside the entrance, turning his head away from her. She sighed and shook her head. At this point she really didn’t have much of a choice.

The two children took a few steps into the lobby of the tower, where they were immediately confronted by staff members. Naturally, they had to battle them to get past them. Once they got past that, they were free to use the elevator to the top.

She turned to face him, looking deep into his eyes before reaching out her hand for him to hold. He blushed and took it, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as the elevator continued to go up. He could feel his face burning, but he didn’t mind. He was living the dream in this moment, and he was content with that.

The elevator came to a halt, and Hop froze. “There’s no way we’re already at the top…” he mumbled, bracing himself. Two doors to his left opened, a pair of staff members joining them on the platform.

“That’s right, kid. We’re gonna take you down!” One of them taunted with a smirk. He pulled out a Pokéball and looked over at his partner.

“We’ll see about that!” Hop grinned, bringing out Dubwool. Gloria nodded and sent out Inteleon.

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

“Do you understand the magnitude of this plan?” Rose asked the man beside him as he stared down at the city of Wyndon. He folded his hands nearly behind him. He had called Leon in to inform him of his new job in this plan.

“I’m afraid I don’t…” he frowned, following Rose’s gaze. “You say that me taking down Eternatus would save the region from imminent destruction… but how do you know that’s true?” His brows furrowed. He really didn’t want to agree with him, but it was looking like he had no other choice. And after everything that he had worked for too… it pained him.

“It’s called faith,” Rose’s tone grew serious. “And I have faith in you, dear champion. You’ve never failed before, so what makes you think that you’ll fail now?”

“I—“

“LEE!!” Hop’s voice echoed throughout the room. The sound surprised Leon so much that he gasped loudly, his eyes widened with shock. Gloria ran up beside him, a soft grin on her face.

“Hey there Hop,” he forced himself to smile, “how did you make it all the way up here?”

“Oh it was horrible! They were all ‘you’re not gonna get past us!’ and we were all ‘think again suckers!’ and then we faced off against Oleana, who was simply mad!! I told each and every one of those people that all I wanted to do was see my brother, and they wouldn’t let me!” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Plus you still owe us dinner! It’s been hours since we saw you last! I was so worried, Lee!” Hop whined and pouted dramatically.

Leon forced a chuckle, shaking his head as he did so. “I’m sorry Hop, I really am. I had every intention of taking you two out for dinner tonight, but I got caught up with important champion matters. Listen,” he squatted down some to look him in the eyes, “why don’t we go out for breakfast tomorrow before the final round of the Champion Cup begins?” Hop nodded excitedly. He was practically jumping up and down at the thought.

Rose frowned. He had never noticed that Leon and Hop were so close. He envied them.

“Why don’t you just go on back to the hotel?” Rose asked, resulting in a confused look from Leon. “Yes, you too. You’re all going to want to be properly rested before to tomorrow, so just go ahead and get your rest.”

“You heard him,” Leon chuckled again. “Alright let’s get going.” He ushered them out of the room, still grinning. Rose felt his heart ache.

He missed his family.

He missed his brother.

Rose hung his head, biting the inside of his cheek so hard that it began to bleed. Oh how he envied Leon and Hop. And Piers and Marnie. And you and Allister. Each of you were so close to one another, and it hurt him to witness. It wasn’t fair. He had worked for everything he had, and he couldn’t have a family? Even before they died, his parents wanted nothing to do with him. It just wasn’t fair. He brought an unreal amount of money to their name that they had never seen before, and all he got in return was cut off.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.

His knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

If only his mother were still alive.

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

You didn’t want to, but you had no other choice. You booked a suite at the Rose of the Rondelands, guaranteeing that Bede and Allister would have enough space to be comfortable. You refused to leave them home alone after the incident with Mimikyu. Naturally, Bede was reluctant to go back to Wyndon, but he knew he couldn’t argue with you.

It was late when you checked in, and the person at the front desk was half asleep. Thankfully she recognized you, otherwise you would’ve been there for a while. Once you made it up to the suite, you put the boys to bed and then rested in the open area. Everything seemed like it was moving fast, and to make things it didn’t even feel real.

Every time you thought about Eternatus, you couldn’t grasp that it was a real being. But it was. And it haunted you. Ever since that statue had been destroyed, bad things had continuously happened to you, as if you were cursed. You shuddered at the thought. Eternatus may’ve been a powerful creature, but it surely wasn’t powerful enough to place a curse on you. You weren’t even sure that Arceus was capable of that, and Arceus was the being above all beings.

You sighed, rolling over onto your side with a frown. You had a splitting headache, and wanted nothing more than to rest, but you couldn’t. What if you closed your eyes and Eternatus found you again? Or what if you dreamt about what happened earlier with Mimikyu? You feared what might come for you in your sleep. It seemed slightly irrational, but you knew it wasn’t. A groan escaped your lips. Secretly, you dreaded participating in the matches tomorrow. You never cared for them in the past, so what made them think that you would now?

It was probably to make it more challenging than the round prior. Which made sense given that they usually brought in Raihan and Melony to make a show of it. When they brung you in is when things tend to get much more serious. You’re a challenge in and of yourself, and that’s exactly what the board is looking for.

You can’t help but cringe at the thought. Why not call in someone like Piers or Kabu? Why did it always have to be you and Raihan? You groaned again. Exhaustion washed over you. Unfortunately, you planned on forcing yourself to stay awake. You just didn’t want to risk seeing Eternatus again. Not after the encounter from earlier. That was going to bother you for a while.

A rueful chuckle left your lips. Maybe you should look into therapy after this mess gets cleared up. Arceus knows you need it. Oh well. That was a discussion for a later date. You yawned. Your eyes felt heavy. You didn’t want to go to sleep.

You yawned again. Your eyes closed.

You dreamt of nothing.

[pebblemae]

there is something to be said for candle run burnout for sure, like it now takes so many candles to get things that you want, as well as the pricing for paid items of course. The entire thing just makes me wonder if sky: cotl should follow in the footsteps of animal crossing: pocket camp and just make a paid game with no in-app purchases. I think the team are trying to tackle the CR burnout tho with different mechanics such as revamping daily quests (personally i don't like the revamp as it is now, but it's clearly in its early stages!). There's just...a lot going on and it would be better in my opinion if there was no IAP at all, especially because I've seen players be weird in the past about it, like trying to justify paid items by talking about veteran status (idk how veteran status correlates with being able to pay for IAP). Overall I think there needs to be a revamp of sky as a whole.

Again, this got long. I have thoughts.

Yeah, IAP is a really tricky topic. On one hand, it's kinda how free games make money, so I personally get not cutting it out completely. On the other, it really seems like ALL the good cosmetics are IAP.

I mean, in Days of Sunlight, there are 7 IGC items (50 Tickets, 384C, and 30 H). and 11 IAP items ($200+ USD). What's worse is most people can't even afford all the IGC items so you end up getting 3-5 items out of the total 18. For a game that's a lot about cosmetic collection, that sucks for the average player!

I'm not personally bothered but the 20+ ticket values. If you're more or less collecting, you can get them fairly easily. You can miss almost half the days and still get the two items. (84 tickets over 14 days. 50 tickets for the two cosmetics. you can miss 5, almost 6 days and still have enough) I have more to say on Ticket Cosmetics, but I'll save that for later.

I wouldn't be as bothered by this insane IAP to IGC item split if they were affordable and if IGC items as a whole stood up to the design and demand of the IAP. Apparently, the earrings were GOING to be IGC but were last minute switched with the floaty. There are SO few earrings, so making them IAP really sucks. It feels like the umbrella problem now. (of the 7 umbrellas, only 2 are IGC as TS)

I would love to see the IAP disappear altogether too, but that's just not realistic. From a financial standpoint for the company, as well as just in general. People hate them, but people still buy them. If anything I could maybe see a price reduction in IAP but with that comes the fact that now those who paid the higher price were "scammed" and that could create legal problems.

I have no idea what TGC could do, but for starters, I'd ask to lower IGC item prices and make fewer IAP items. Whether that will happen or not, I'm not optimistic, unfortunately.

[basicallyjaywalker]

Trying To Make Something Out of Clay

It only took me getting back at school to finish editing this! I am not kidding good grief

Anyways! At long last @cboffshore I deliver you: JAY! my specialty

Prompt: Jay, Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham, eagle, fastidious, pardon, clay, separation, earthquake, and protest

AO3 Link

Fic also under the cut!

Pottery classes wouldn’t have been Jay’s first idea for a birthday gift to himself, but he could never dodge his mother’s chipper voice in his head. 

Coupons! They’re like an excuse to do things. Always keep your eyes out for the real deals… From there, she’d go into a spiel about good versus bad deals, ones designed to make you spend money rather than save it, and eventually that would develop into discussions of unit prices and store brands and what-have-you about “mother’s know-how.” 

All that to say, when the coupon came in for “Free Pottery Lessons!” with the purchase of a starter pack, Jay knew how to calculate the value. Cost was the starter pack, lessons would cover all of the basics of pottery, he would be able to make more cool gifts for his friends and family… worth it. Plus, the studio said once he finished his lessons, he was still welcome to come back and use their equipment to mold and fire the clay. Plus plus, if he decided he didn’t like it, he could always use the clay and tools in the starter kit for another project. No matter what, there wasn’t a way to lose! His mom would be so proud. 

And that was how he ended up sitting in front of a clay-stained table, almost a month after his birthday, sculpting. Now Nya’s birthday was coming up and he was making her a seagull figurine. Unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten to the “figurine” part in his basics classes, so Jay was having to wing it with what he knew. However, what he knew seemed to be very lumpy and not very gull-like. 

He frowned, examining the vaguely bird-shaped lump of clay on the table. Its legs were short and thick, holding the uneven, bulbous body up off the table. Jay had thought he made wings, but they seemed to be lost within the sinking mass. The head was little more than a drooping oval, the end of which molded into the torso much too high up (or maybe this gull's neck was just in the middle of its spine). 

… Yeah, he couldn’t pass this off as a seagull. He could barely pass it off as a bird. Maybe he should just make Nya something else.

 Just as he reached to put his tools up, the studio door opened behind him and he spun around to see his teacher, Kat, in her clay stained apron.

“Ah, pardon me,” She smiled at him and raised her hand in a wave, it was stained reddish orange, “just grabbin’ somethin’ for my next group. Whatcha makin’?”

“Something for Nya,” Jay said, trying to shield the misshapen heap from her view. The light-up grin on Kat’s face told him he failed. 

“What a lovely turtle! I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“It’s supposed to be a seagull.”

“Oh.” 

Jay sighed. “Yeah, we’re not quite there yet.”

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, sending a few splatters of rust-colored clay flying, ”trust the process! It’ll turn out swell, I’m sure. Do you need a reference?”

“That might help,” was what he said out loud. What he thought was, I know what a seagull looks like. I don’t think looking at another one is going to help. Still, he managed to hold his tongue. As much as he liked Kat, some days, her teaching just bugged him. She always went on about “the process.” Trust the process! Everything looks bad until it’s done! Sometimes, it even looks bad after, it’s just the artist's way. 

As she left the room, Jay continued ruminating on that idea. Trust the process. He stared at the ugly lump on his table. He wasn’t sure “the process” could save this one. Still, he supposed giving it a try was better than giving up. 

Frowning, he tried to fix the head, adding some clay to make it rounder, more… sharp? Less like a turtle. A few globs there, a dab here, some shaping… hey! Now that was a seagull. The legs could use some carving, but they were sleeker now; he could actually make out the shape of wings in the blobby body, and the neck wasn’t coming out of the middle of the spine! Jay could almost envision the thing trying to steal his french fries on the beach, as long as he was squinting really, really hard. Slowly, he drew his hands away.

Immediately, the head drooped and detached from the rest of the body.

“Oh, come on!” Jay exclaimed just as Kat walked back in and interrupted what was about to be a long string of words about the clay, gravity, and the concept of seagulls in general. In her hands she cradled a majestic gull perched on a rock, caught mid-caw.

“This is from one of our old students. She left it here and never came back, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you used it as reference.”

“Thanks.” Jay took the figurine and examined it. It was a simple shape, lots of round circles, and some small details for the wings and feet. It looked easy enough to make. Looked being the keyword. 

Kat looked at the self-decapitated bird and tilted her head. “Fix-it attempt gone horribly, horribly wrong?”

He nodded, pursing his lips. 

“You’ll get it,” she said, spirited as ever, “it just takes some time to master, y’know? New skills and all that.”

He nodded again. She’d told him the same thing during his first few lessons, when the teacup he tried to make for Master Wu ended up looking more like a soup bowl made by an avant-garde artiste. He knew she was right, it was just the way learning went, but it didn’t stop the nagging irritation he felt staring at the pathetic pile of muddy material in front of him. 

“I’ve gotta get my next class started, lemme know if you need anything else.”

One last nod and Kat was gone, leaving him alone again. Jay sat down and continued to stare at the distended body. He placed his new reference next to it and felt the minute bit of confidence that sprouted from his forming gull fly away. 

Maybe he could pass his off as a seagull that went through a tsunami or earthquake. Then again, that felt a little too morbid. Maybe a mutant seagull, left alive to propagate his species after a nuclear apocalypse wiped out the rest, save for him and the perfect specimen sat beside him, a symbol of a simpler time? 

No, that was too far-fetched. 

Sighing, Jay figured his best way out was to start from scratch. He pushed the majestic reference gull out of the blast radius before slamming his fist down on his failure. The wet clay gave easily under the force, body and head merging into one flat, knuckle-imprinted puddle. Jay knew it wasn’t necessary—and rather messy—to do it this way, but it allowed him some sort of catharsis. That alone made it worth the bit of splash onto his apron and face. 

Now, he could start again. 

His hands started to shape the clay, eyes focused on the reference as he tried to imitate the product in front of him. He didn’t need the rock, just the bird. That was enough of a change to keep it from being plagiarism, right? Could you plagiarize a clay sculpture?

As he worked, his mind wandered. Initially, it was just about the concept of plagiarism and if copying the reference counted. He was pretty sure he watched a video recently on that. Could one plagiarize an artstyle the same way they plagiarized research? Then it moved to the feeling of the clay. It squished under his hands like mud, but held like a sand castle. He used to build sand castles in his yard, when he was too young to help his parents build their various projects. His mom would give him a water bottle and tell him his job was to make a palace for the nearby ants to live in. Jay took his job very seriously, working fastidiously far after his parents went inside and even when Edna tried to call him in for dinner. He never truly mastered the art, despite various attempts to mimic the grandiose castles he saw in the storybooks his father used to lull him to sleep. His castles always ended up a solid mound. No doors, no windows, and definitely no rooms where the creatures nearby could rest. 

Well, that little memory didn’t bode well for this project. 

Jay clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus on the task at hand, but still his thoughts swirled about his head like a storm. He was good at so many things, how come castles and seagulls outsmarted him? He was an inventor, for First’s sake! Sure, he fell out of practice recently, but he’d done it his whole life! Surely no one loses skills that fast, right? All his years of practice should amount to something, should translate to making a clay bird? But wires and gears and cogs were so much different than clay. They were rigid, fixed. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle and always worked as intended. They were predictable. Clay wasn’t like that. It morphed not only under the weight of its creator’s hands, but under its own. Sometimes, it held its shape perfectly, strong like a tree in a storm. Other times, as Jay experienced over his time learning to sculpt pots and cups, it drooped or flattened or folded itself over like a cloud rolling over the horizon. Capricious, that’s the word he would use to describe it. Clay was capricious.

Okay, maybe inventing wasn’t his best comparison. He rifled through his skills toolbox again. An art form would serve better as a comparison. Painting? Paints could be difficult too. When he first started learning, driven by the small pieces his father used to make of the night sky, he hated it. The paints always turned to a muddy mess on his canvases, leading him to ruin more than one still-wet attempt by throwing it into the sand. He only got the hang of it after sitting down with his dad one day, both of them looking to capture a gorgeous eagle that landed in their junkyard. It was rare to see them in the Sea of Sands, as they preferred the shores of Ninjago more, but here this one was, perched on a pile of scrap his dad pulled out for a project the day before. At first, Jay didn’t understand why his dad had a sketchbook and pencil out or why he took a picture of the bird. Instead, Jay went straight to trying to capture its glossy feathers and curved beak, only to be vexed when the browns and whites he was using merged into one murky beige. He tried to fix it, but the problem only worsened until, with a yell, he scribbled over the whole thing in black. The commotion frightened the bird away, which only served to heighten Jay’s frustration. Great. Great! The bird was gone. Now he had to remember what it looked like to try and paint it again. 

That was when his father picked up his painting, examining the mess he made. He commented on how they would have to repurpose the canvas for something else and Jay felt a hot flush of shame hit his cheeks. He apologized for his outburst, but his dad just patted his head and sat with him. He explained how painting wasn’t just about putting paint on the canvas, but how you needed a sketch to start with so you could have an idea of how to make the picture by hand, how to plan your layers so your colors wouldn’t all mix, and how to control your brush so there were no stray bumps in the smooth lines. Jay still didn’t fully get it, but this time he actually finished the painting. It was rough, looking closer to a pigeon than an eagle, but it was dry and not covered in sand. His dad hung it up in their living room. 

Maybe Jay could draw on his painting skills. Paint was finicky, often felt like it had a mind of its own. Surely, there was something within this childhood memory that could help him out now?

Splat.

The noise roused Jay from his thoughts. In his daydreaming, he’d pulled the neck of the gull out too thin and the head—which was just a little bead at the end of the spaghetti string—now drooped on the table. 

Dammit. 

Jay squished the horror noodle back into the body and checked his watch. The place closed in an hour. He’d made no progress. His deadline wasn’t imminent (Nya’s birthday wasn’t for another few weeks) but it still weighed heavy on his mind. He wanted to get something done today, before Kat asked him to clean up. There was no telling when an attack on Ninjago might drag him away from this, swallowing his time and bringing the date closer and closer until he was forced to rush the project to completion.

Change of plans. He wasn’t good at sculpting, but he wasn’t willing to switch to painting. He was going to make the most of this studio and his work so far. He was good at engineering. He stared at the clay. This gull wasn’t a sculpture, it was a… a machine! Like Zane’s Falcon. Yeah, he could work with that.

First step of the process, separate the parts. Separation was easy, since the limbs of this bird seemed intent on breaking apart. There was the head, the wings, the feet, the torso… he could break those down further! The head had eyes, a beak, feathers on top? Little hairs? Whatever. The point was, he could break it down. He could maybe get somewhere with that.

What next? He had the parts, now he had to figure out how they fit together. The bird needed a base, otherwise its feet would be too small for its body (or alternatively, to support itself its feet would need to be comically large, which must’ve been why the original had a rock base). Then, the torso rested on the feet. The wings then melded to the torso, becoming almost part of it. The head was connected by the neck, which needed to be enough to set it apart from the body, but not too long and skinny that it would fall. That’s where his issue was. The first-forsaken neck. Solve that, he solved the whole thing.

Maybe he was a genius. Maybe he’d finally cracked the code! …Okay, maybe he already knew that was the problem, but breaking it down helped! The storm in his brain calmed and he could focus his attention on the task at hand: fixing this stupid bird before Kat—

“Hey, Jay!”

Are you kidding me?

Kat bounded over, her apron, arms, and even parts of her face stained orangish brown with clay. She grinned from ear to ear as she settled back into her spot across from Jay. “How’s it going?”

“Eh, fine. I’m just trying to figure out how to make the neck work.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I can’t figure out how to make it look like a neck, y’know? Like… How do birds even function? I know their necks aren’t super complicated, but it’s like I put the head on and it all goes splat!”

“Have you been using an armature?” 

“...what?” 

Kat burst into giggles. “You’ve not been using an armature this entire time? It’s what helps the clay keep its shape. You’ve been freeballing it?”

“I didn’t know!” Jay protested. This whole time he’d been missing a key part of the body—robotic, flesh, or clay—skeleton! Muscles! That’s why the stupid bird kept self-decapitating! It had no bones! How hadn’t I realized?!

Kat leaned over, examining the bird while Jay’s face cycled through shades of red. “Well, in that case, as an act of freestanding feathered figurine formation, you haven’t done a half bad job.” She held her hand out. “And if you can come back tomorrow, I’ll show you how to make a wire armature. Then, we can get you going on this project, for real this time. Deal?”

“I’ll try to make it.” Jay sighed and held his hand out, still covered in clay. “Deal.”

After a messy handshake, Jay washed, put away his tools, gathered his things, and left. The late afternoon sun hung lazily above the horizon, not ready to dip fully out of sight, leaving the sky a brilliant, cloudless azure. The golden light reflected off the lush zelkova trees that lined the sidewalk outside, turning the leaves chartreuse. Crickets chirped quietly at their feet and in their branches, warming up for their song later in the evening. Other than that, the streets were quiet. Warm rays hit his face and he sighed. In the distance, he could smell something cooking, maybe a barbecue in the residential area a few blocks over? His stomach growled. It really was time for him to head home.

Tomorrow, he’d come back and make an armature. Then, that stupid bird would finally come into form. 

All things considered, Jay figured he made good on that coupon. Free figurine lessons! And he didn’t even have to buy a second kit. Plus, something about working, letting his thoughts roam free… Jay wasn’t sure what it was, but he was excited to go back there soon, and there wasn’t much more to say about that.

[bernardellinewsagency]

back with even more trigun x honkai star rail crossover thoughts, this time inspired by @jiinglespurs's veritas the punisher fanart :D though i'm not sure if i can call this just "thoughts" when it's turned into uh... several paragraphs of rambling and then a 2k word ratiorine fanfic about it. it's mostly unedited because i think i wrote most of it in some sort of possessed/fugue state where i was solely consumed by the need to have aventurine as vash, veritas as wolfwood, and for them to hurt my own feelings, but yeah in total this is around three thousand words in one post. i'm gonna hide it under a cut for everyone's sake :)

to start, no man's land is now penacony, of course. instead of seven cities, it's twelve, based on the twelve dreamscapes. now, most of these cities are just there to exist in the background and/or be destroyed. the lore important ones are midnight, sol, and morning dew (idk if the names should be changed to sound more like locations but trigun has cities named after months, names like morning dew aren't entirely out of the question).

midnight is where ships first crashed onto the planet, dooming humanity to a lonesome existence in this new world. however, despite being the vash and nai representative characters, this wasn't because of kakavasha and sunday. no, it was mikhail and gopher wood, the watchmaker and the dreammaster whose actions helped shape the penacony storyline in canon. these days, it's mostly a ghost town, the remnants of the first human civilizations on the planet. and morning dew is the july of this world, the location where shit will be going down, since it's where the dewlight pavilion is in canon so it'd be wherever sunday hosts his currently unnamed religious fanaticism organization.

in canon, sol is the dreamscape known for museums, libraries, and academies. thus, this becomes where veritas is from. to take more from wolfwood's backstory, he would've been an orphan there, brought up in an orphanage and not really able to get a proper education. luckily for him, i feel like he'd be a pretty self sufficient learner- he could've stolen books and snuck into buildings to help teach himself math, science, philosophy, etc. seeing his potential, the orphanage probably would've wanted to help send him to school, but he would insist that if they sent anyone, it would be the other kids who'd need it more than him, or that they save their money for food and supplies. a pity, perhaps if he did go away to school then he wouldn't have been taken and made into a killer rather than a scholar.

remember how i said that things would've been caused by gopher wood and mikhail? well, both of them are dead now. mikhail would've died first, which is rather unfortunate because then gopher wood would've been able to make a power grab and form the currently unnamed organization (though it'll probably be named after smth to do with the harmony or the order) incredibly powerful and influential within penacony. he would've had grand plans, and i think sunday should coup him before he could do much with them. kill his father, take his power, be more ambitious that he ever could.

speaking of this unnamed organization, its members are this au's versions of the gung-ho guns and can really be any character who shows up in the penacony quests. there's veritas the punisher, of course, and it's now led by dominicus, the name sunday goes just like how nai goes by millions knives. very transgender of both of them. then there's gallagher the hound, sparkle the fool, and while i don't have any ideas for robin, those three would be in the upper echelons of this group; both because sunday wants to keep his friends close and his enemies (of which gallagher and sparkle are certainly both possibilities) closer, and because the four remind me of the four harmonic strings, and sunday would definitely love the symbolism of that. i've also got two other ideas for its members: acheron the blade, an accomplished swordswoman known for never unsheathing her sword in a fight, and samuel the cavalry, an unknown young woman cloaked in both brutality and a fearsome armor made from lost tech.

why is kakavasha on the run from sunday and his organization? he's the vash adjacent character in this au, but he's not actually related to sunday, the two don't have any original closeness to utilize. but the glory of an au is that you can put canon into a paper shredder and say things like "maybe the avgins were there before anyone crash landed onto the planet. maybe kakavasha is still the last of his kind. and because i can, maybe he's got some fun powers that i can use to make him get homoerotic with veritas but can also serve as a reason why sunday is hunting him down." really i just need to be able to make him suffer more than jesus for my own entertainment.

and finally, i love the thought of eve being jade's real name, so it's jelena and eve who end up traveling with kakavasha across the world. they're meant to be like the insurance girls, financial sector employees who have ended up sticking with him because of the monetary disasters he keeps causing everywhere he goes.

ONTO THE GOOD STUFF. IT'S FANFIC TIME.

"what the hell were you thinking, blondie?" veritas yells, crouching beneath a half destroyed wall as the top of it gets riddled with bullets, spinning the punisher around and firing backwards without looking. he doesn't have to; they drilled him on trajectories and distances and angles so much he doesn't even need to run the numbers, his hearing helping to pick up on where the bandits are and his hands naturally guiding his aim. it's not a guarantee that he hit where he wanted every time, but he hears the first three bodies drop like apples from a tree, while the fourth cries out in terror and moves in time to flee.

"i had a plan, veritas! no one was going to get hurt!" he's a damn good liar, that kakavasha, because veritas can smell the blood coming from his arm, enhanced senses tuned in to everything around him more than he would ever like to be. now is not the time to be overwhelmed by all that. covering his ears, veritas remains crouched as another explosion sounds off behind the two of them, and then he takes off. keeping the punisher close to his chest, he counts the footsteps he can hear as he runs, the way kakavasha's catch up to him.

he's taller, but kakavasha is faster. veritas has shorter strides despite having longer legs, it's just because of the way he runs while burdened with such a heavy weight. kakavasha barely touches the ground as he sprints though, especially when they aren't yet back to the sand that surrounds the sprawling metropolitan city of blue hour. an ever-growing town situated with a monopoly of the largest body of water in penacony means the people here certainly wouldn't struggle with shitty roads, and it also means it's a shitty place for them to have run into the fool.

ten more steps. five more. two- kakavasha overtakes him, and veritas finishes counting down the beats in his head. keeping perfect time with the fool's rhythm, he spins, firing a single shot at the explosive doll that's launched towards them. it hits perfectly, and even though whatever charge sparkle put in this one is stronger than the rest, it's still within the parameters veritas had set. kakavasha is out of the blast radius, and the punisher absorbs most of the force of the shockwave and the shrapnel from it, leaving veritas to deal with just a piece that nicks his side and the searing heat.

no time to waste after that; he turns right back around and keeps running, easily falling into step with kakavasha as they both time their steps with each others’. "you think you could have a plan to deal with this? you've heard about the fool before, right? you can't predict what's going to happen next, there isn't any game theory about the best course of action you can apply to this!"

"you predicted that bomb!" kakavasha points out, both yelling to be heard.

"yes, as a one time thing, not a broad overview of this entire scenario! there's no strategy to minimize harm!" he tugs kakavasha into a tight left turn, hearing footsteps from the direction they had been headed. "sparkle doesn't play by any games' rules, only her own. the only way we might be able to deal with her is to get rid of her stage and her audience, and that's this whole damn town!"

he'd have to be more of a fool than dominicus' latest assassin to miss the way that kakavasha looks at him, unnatural eyes wide and staring through those obnoxious pink glasses of him. "you sure know a lot about her," he says once they manage to stop for a moment to catch their breath.

veritas very nearly doesn't resist the urge to go and snap those glasses in half. "well, you heard what miss eve has said before. i'm quite well learned, for someone like me. i'm more worried that you don't seem to know anything at all about the people hunting you down!"

laughing nervously, the way kakavasha checks the ammo of his revolver is one of the most obvious tells veritas has ever seen, second only to the way his fist is always held behind his back as he talks monsters out of mayhem to spare others' lives. it's a tell that reminds him entirely too much of this martyr's opposite, and he forces the thought from his mind. "i'd really prefer it if they didn't have to do so, you know, it'd make this whole journey much more pleasant. after all, i've already got you here with me, right? no need for anyone else."

for all that veritas is well versed in practical manners, his body and mind honed to perfection, the heart and feelings continue to elude his grasp. he has no idea what emotion it is that overtakes him- rage? confusion? fear? something else entirely? all he knows is that he looks over at kakavasha, and that idiot is just grinning at him, just smiling as if he isn't hinting at everything that's been threatening to tear down veritas' entire world.

moving without thinking, dust fills the air as he slams kakavasha against the nearest wall, a hand gripped around his neck and not letting go. "what the fuck do you think you know about?" he yells, tightening his hold. "you- you fucking bastard, how long have you known?"

in the split second attack, kakavasha's glasses must have fallen to the ground, because he's met with the full force of that multicolored gaze that always cuts quick to his very core. "since we met," he wheezes, "i've known all along."

veritas drops him, watching kakavasha fall to sit on the ground as something unfamiliar writhes within his gut. "you knew? and you- you didn't do anything about it? how in the world could anyone, even you, make a gamble with such high stakes? just because you think you know me? were you just going to let me get close to you- no, not even you, were you going to play with jelena and eve's lives like that? just bet that i won't kill them, that they won't end up as more innocent casualties because of you, stampede?"

"hear what you're saying?" kakavasha sounds too smug, too fucking sure of himself, like he's already won this argument, and veritas turns around so he won't have to see the same expression on the bastard's face. "you care about them. you wouldn't let them get harmed in a fight, you're not about to go and hurt them yourself. you're a good person, veritas, and i trust you-"

"no," he spits, seething with vitriol bubbling up to the surface. "you're naive, stampede, you're a gambler and a fool-"

"funny," comes another voice, lilting and feminine, "i thought that i was the fool here."

the argument seems to be unanimously paused as both whip their heads around to stare at the newcomer, guns drawn and at the ready. she just laughs at that, raising her hands to show that she's not carrying any of the dolls she's been using to wreak havoc across blue hour. "easy, boys, no need for such hostility!"

veritas makes sure he's aiming right between her eyes. "what the fuck do you want?"

more giggles. "entertainment, of course! and this little lover's spat is more entertaining than what the rest of the town has become. those girls you mentioned spoiled most of the fun for me, taking away my grand audience and actors, so i had to look for something else!"

jelena and eve got the citizens away. veritas sighs with relief at the realization. there will still be piles of bodies and rubble to clean up, but the girls must've come up with some type of evacuation plan after the four got separated. his grip on the punisher loosens slightly, but not enough to not aim to kill. "so, did you get the entertainment you wanted?"

"of course! and even though you're entertaining, i know that you won't kill me, punisher, and your little blond puppy over there definitely won't, no matter how thrilling that would be to see! so, i'll see myself out, as i'm getting rather bored here. toodle-oo!"

even he can't see where she got the last doll from, considering he hadn't seen any with her, but maybe there is something to how lucky kakavasha seems to be when it only explodes into a cloud of colorful dust and bright lights. by the time he turns back, sparkle the fool is long gone. "damn it," he curses, lowering the punisher as reality sinks in. "damn it, damn it!"

kakavasha's touch is what snaps him out of it, a palm placed right over where he got hit earlier. he hisses at the sting, already reaching for one of the vials he keeps within the punisher. no more need to hide it if blondie's known all this time. "wait," he hears, and he pauses despite himself, unable to stop himself from indulging kakavasha's gentle request.

a warm sensation spreads from where kakavasha touches him, soothing his aches as it spreads through his nerves and veins, through to where blood has already started to clot now that he's no longer prolonging the healing by moving around. the pain was already negligible and nothing compared to what he's faced in the past, yet suddenly it's gone entirely. if he were to look, veritas is sure that he would be faced with the familiar sight of his flesh stitching itself back together until there's not even a single hint that he had been injured remaining. he doesn't look though, keeps his eyes trained away from the man next to him. "i- you-"

"we should meet back up with the girls," kakavasha says. he draws back after a few more seconds, his work apparently done. he picks something up from the ground; his sunglasses, veritas realizes, and it's only once he's got those back on that veritas can face him again.

grabbing onto his wrist as soon as he can get an opportunity to, veritas takes a few seconds to wait for words to start working for him again before speaking. "what the fuck did you just do?"

"oh, that? that's nothing! think of it as just a token of my appreciation, mkay?"

however fast kakavasha can run is not going to help him run away from this. "that's- you know that's not what i wanted to hear, blondie. you just healed me with nothing but a single touch. the only thing i know of that can do anything like that is the healing serum that asshole has been able to cook up for people like me. even someone like you could understand how suspicious that is, and i know i've got no leg to stand on for this, but you-"

"veritas." kakavasha doesn't want to leave him any room to disagree with him on this. "i said, we should meet up with the girls."

"they're safe, they can wait- wait." pieces click into place within his thoughts. they're still hasty and disorganized, but they show him the steps to take through the right method. "heal yourself first, you damn gambler."

"who, me? i'm not hurt, veritas!" he snatches his arm away the moment that veritas makes a move to yank his sleeve up, as if the two of them can't see the blood staining the outside of his jacket anyways.

it's a reaction he had been expecting. "you infuriate me, do you know that? i was going to ask you what you are, considering your little special ability, but i already know the most important answer to that. you're a martyr, and you won't heal yourself even though you can."

"it's just not effective on myself?" kakavasha tries to counter.

"you and i both know that isn't true, but if that's the way you want to play this, fine. let's go back to the girls, and i'll make sure that jelena guilts you into letting me bandage you up properly."

a faux gasp. he's brought them back to more familiar territory. playful sounding bickering that still holds its edge, conceding to his wants while using them against him. half casual conversation, half the strategy of a hostage negotiation. "you wouldn't dare!" kakavasha exaggerates. "i'm her favorite, you know."

he grabs ahold of the unsaid conversation. "no, you're eve's favorite. jelena likes me more than you, she says that i'm more reasonable." in bickering about the two of them, it's what goes unsaid that means the most. they can talk like this because nothing is going to change between the four of them. kakavasha isn't going to tell them anything, for better or for worse. "listen, gambler-"

"no need to say anything, veritas." his eyes don't look as odd when they're accompanied by a genuine smile. "we've all got our secrets, right?"

he looks away first, hauling the punisher back over his shoulder and letting the weight dig in uncomfortably against his back. "yes" he whispers, knowing kakavasha would still hear him, "yes we do."

[animelovelover123]

DMC Boys x Reader – I Want to Feel Fear

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V, Sparda x Reader (Reader is gender neutral except in Sparda’s story where Reader is female)

Synopsis/Author's Note: The DMC boys are asked to do some CNC. And not the light dubious consent stuff. No, the reader wants it hard. To feel fear, to cry and scream, to fight like their life depends on it but still be held down and used.

Well damn. What are the boys going to do with you?

Disclaimer: All acts in this story are done by consenting participants acting out a fantasy with no true threat to either's well-being. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Trigger Warnings: CNC, stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, drugging, knife play, somno, predator/pray play, blood play, implied pregnancy sex, threatening of humiliation, implied semi-public masturbation, sadism, degrading comments, overstimulation, not beta read

Dante

Oh my… who knew his little angel was so devilish?

Sure, why not? Dante has entertained plenty of people with some freaky kinks, so he knows there isn’t anything wrong with two adults consensually doing some nasty stuff. He’s down to try if it will make you happy. Now, how to go about it…

You’re a demon hunter and his longtime partner so he knew you could handle being roughed up a bit. But what exactly are you looking for babe?

A sudden strike by a stranger (played by Dante)?

Some predator and prey hunting?

Some public humiliation?

Well… maybe not that last one because Dante causes that all the time with his antics anyway.

What would he like? Dante had to sit and think about that one. This is a whole new world he has never really explored before.

But you know, there was this one fantasy he had. And if he just cranked up the aggression then… Ya, that could work.

With a final shot, the last demon’s screech was silenced. As Dante set Rebellion on his back, keeping Ebony in his left hand, he looked over at you. You looked so sweet and vulnerable as your trembling subsided and your puffy red eyes with pupils blown wide relaxed a bit as the last of your attackers, as far as the character you were playing knew, evaporated. It was a weak and timid version of you he rarely got to see.

“Thank you so much for saving me, sir.” You say as you stepped down from the create you had climbed on to get out of reach of the calf-tall demons that had attacked you.

“Well, I couldn’t just sit back and let the world lose out on such a pretty little thing now could I?” As Dante draws closer to you, he watches you put on a shy little smile at his compliment. How cute. Too bad he won’t be seeing it for a while. “Unfortunately though I don’t run a charity so I’m gonna need to be paid for my hard work.”

“Pay?” Your relaxed posture tensed back up quickly.

“Yep, got bills to pay you know. Now let’s see…” With his free hand, Dante stroked his chin in exaggerated thought. In his other, he twirled Ebony around purposely within your field of view. “with it being an out-of-the-blue job that took time out of my busy day… I’d say 30 sounds about fair.” Dante announced in a particular way just so he could see your eyes light up with hope so he could dash it.

“30 bucks?”

Dante chuckled.

“No sweetheart, 30 thousand.”

“30 thousand dollars!? I’m sorry but don’t have that kind of money.” You keep talking, pleading your case, but Dante made a loud humming noise that told you he was too busy thinking to listen.

“You know,” He eventually says, cutting you off. “I think I can make an exception for someone as cute as you.” He gives a playful wink as he stops playing with Ebony to press its muzzle into the crown of your hair. With just enough force for you to take the hint, Dante presses down on you until you sink to your knees. “I know just how you can pay me.”

===+===+===

After swallowing, as ordered, you are finally able to wrench your head back, freeing yourself from the repeated gaging to drag in fresh air. You start to catch your breath, though each gasp makes your sore throat burn. You glance up at Dante who has since moved his gun from your head and now slouched over you, hands on the create behind you, with closed eyes and heavy breaths as his high washes off. Seeing this as your chance you turn and start to crawl away. You make it a couple of feet before you’re grabbed by your hair, not pulled back but held in place.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Dante practically growls. “You aren’t done paying your bill.”

“But,” You stay in place, too scared to move. “I just…”

“Auwh, did I forget to tell you?” Dante moved to squat down beside you so he could look at your fearful expression. “I charge by the corps. Now remind me again, how many demons were there?”

“S-six.”

Dante gave a wolfish grin.

===+===+===

“Where are you taking me?” You whine, far too tired to cry out at this point. You are moved from where Dante had thrown you over his should and dropped onto the back seats of Dante’s open-roofed car, your head behind the driver’s seat.

“I’m taking you back to my place.” Dante circles the car but instead of sliding into the front seat, he places one hand on the back door and the other on the driver seat headrest. Using them as leverage he leans over you, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over your delightfully confused and concerned face.

“Your place? But I paid off my debt, didn’t I?”

“Yep, that you did. Even gave a little extra tip.” Dante shot you a toothy grin. “But you know what? I might just be addicted to that perfect little body of yours. So, I think I’m gonna keep you. It’ll be nice coming home every day to such a sexy cockwarmer.”

Reboot Dante

Really? You’re into that?

Surprisingly Dante actually rejects your request at first.

The idea of forcefully taking you at some club or in an alley just brings up memories of the times Dante has beaten some prick half to death for trying the same thing.

It will take a little convincing, along with some extra good treatment to rack up some IOU’s, but you can get him on board.

He’s still a bit hesitant so you need to start him with something he is a bit more comfortable with, something he is used to.

Dante and you are well accustomed to fooling around in places you probably shouldn’t. It helped that Dante had spent most of his life being sporadically homeless so he knew all sorts of nooks and crannies where a person or two could hide away from prying eyes.

So, take those moments, add a sprinkle of anonymity and a heaping cup of force, and now we’re talking.

You stand holding open one of the back doors of your friend’s car, allowing others to pile in so you can snag the window seat. Just as the last person slides into place, you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Don’t move,” Came a gruff male voice, sounding both loud enough to be heard but also distant. You knew it well, but still tensed up on instinct. “act calm.”

“You comin’?” Asks one of your friends in a joking tone, looking up at you with a blissfully unaware smile.

“Tell em your walking home.” Came the voice again, plenty loud enough to be heard by your friends, but it was only you with the power to hear him. You give your friends the lie you had been fed. They questioned you a bit but eventually drove off, none the wiser. “Go back into the fair.” The gun behind you makes a noise, possibly pointing in the direction the man wanted you to go.

No matter what it was, it served to snap you out of your panicked obedience as the reality of the situation came back to you. You stay stalk still, brain hastily fliting through thoughts but unable to settle on one.

“Hey, get going.” The man pushes, impatience evident in his voice and in another fidget of the gun. Without thinking you defiantly shake your head. Before taking your next breath the gun fires. The firing has a similar distant sounding quality to it as the man’s voice, but the explosion of the streetlight above you is too close.

“I told you to move.” Snaped the man. This time you follow orders.

You moved stiffly but with purpose, following instructions to a tee as the man tells you when and where to turn. You don’t speak, don’t turn around, don’t try to run for fear of ending up like that streetlight.

“Get on the freewheel, alone.” The last word came out with a bit of venom. The line was short as it was near closing time, so it didn’t take long for it to be your turn. The enclosed cabin shifts a bit under your weight as you step on, and as the door is closing it shifts again. You and the man ride a quarter of the rotation, the cabin halfway up where no one on the ground could see you, before he gives his next command.

“Lift up your top and drop your pants.” Even though you could have seen this coming, the suddenness made your brain stutter. Another loud clack of the gun got your hands moving again. Despite the intense trembling of your hands, you are able to undo and push down your pants, letting them fall to the cabin floor. “Underwear too.” This time you do struggle a bit, though out of nervousness as you look outside of the cabin to see all the people milling about down below. When the smaller cloth joins your pants you only barely catch a guttural groan from behind you. “Sit and spread your legs.” This order actually gets you something, aside from embarrassment. It gives you the first chance to look at your assailant, or it would have if he was truly there.

You had only recently started your medium training with Kat so you couldn’t make out any features of the man in Limbo. All you see is a white fog-like mass in the shape of a man looking down at you while pointing a gun-shaped object at your chest. A gun that could very much kill you through the division of realities.

“Don’t forget your top.” He said, motioning with his gun at the hem. As you pull your shirt up to reveal your chest, but not off, the figure sits on the bench across from you. The gun doesn’t drift from its target in the slightest. “Now touch yourself.”

“What!?”

“You heard me.” There was no compassion in the man’s voice. If anything, there was humor, as if he was amused by your shame. “Get yourself off. Right here, right now.”

“But…” Your voice trails off as you look out of the cabin window. “the ride will end soon.” The freewheel had made half its rotation.

“Don’t worry,” The figure shifted. “it usually takes about an hour for the fire truck to get here to help people off.” The figure lifts from his seat to lean out the cabin window and take a shot down towards the ground. You hear the harsh screeching of a bullet cutting through metal and the freewheel immediately comes to a screeching halt, leaving your cabin just shy of the top where no one could possibly look in at what you were doing.

“You better get the show on the road.” The man taunted as he sat back down, one hand pointing the gun back at you while the other reached down towards his crotch. “Times ticking and I’m not letting you stop until we’re both done.”

Vergil

You wish to be dominated? Well, he agrees there was no better person than him to do that for you.

Despite being far more sophisticated than most demons and being able to hide your physical traits, so much so that you lived among humans with none the wiser, you were a full demon. A demon whose body had exceptional healing powers because, no matter what gender you fell into, every one of your species was predisposed to be taken by more powerful demons. It’s just how your people were, always ready and waiting to be dominated. And even though you had formed more humanity than most others of your kind, the desire was still there.

Vergil understood this, having studied demonology extensively and having sensed your demonic energy calling out to his, enticing him to act.

Up until then, even though he was more in tune with his demon half than his human half, he was far too disciplined and civilized to give in to such boorish desires. His goal was to gain power and control. Giving into his lust and taking you, one of the several demons that served under him, would not bring him closer to that objective.

And yet, when you came to him proclaiming your affection and desire for him an alluring rush of dominance came over him. It wasn’t the same feeling as when he defeated an opponent in combat or even when his followers bowed for him. This was deeper, intimate, primal.

It was no use. Even with the generous head start you had been given, no matter how far, how long, or how fast you ran he was there. Sometimes behind you, sometimes appearing in front of you, but always close, as if you were but a worm desperately trying to crawl away from a swooping bird. You were too easy a target when in open areas so had tried to make this more difficult for your pursuer by zigzagging in a densely forested area, but that only slowed him slightly. Still, it slowed him, so to a denser area you ran. Particularly, you started squeezing your way through bushes and overgrown demonic thorny areas where standing straight or walking was an impossibility. This worked for a couple of minutes, even giving you brief moments of reprieve as the sound of his movements and perturbed tisks faded behind the foliage on occasion. However, with him already being on edge with his dragged-out arousal, this obstacle only served to ignite his frustration. With easy flicks of the Yamato the offending plants were sliced to ribbons. Upon noticing this and realizing that continuing to slither through vines while Vergil cut through them was only slowing you down, you leave the dense plants back into the forest. You don’t make it more than a few feet through before an ethereal blade of blue energy pierces your torso, knocking the air from your lungs and pushing your upper body forward harshly, causing you to fall to the ground. Just as you are catching your breath and attempting to lift onto your hands and knees a boot plants itself firmly on your back and forces you back down.

“Foolish.” Vergil calmly said as the summon sword dissolved away, allowing your body to begin its rapid repair of the hole left behind. “Did you really think some fauna would protect you?”

The moment your wound is healed enough you swiftly slash at the leg pinning you down. He kicks your hand back, but in turn lifts his foot from your back. You take the opportunity and scurry out from under him but his hand grabs the back of your head and slams it down into the dirt for your disobedience. An exposed tree root slashed open your brow, spilling blood down your already red face.

“I seem to have underestimated your audacity,” Vergil kneels down, one leg atop your back to hold you in place. “and overestimated your intelligence.” He lifts your head from the dirt by pulling back on your hair. The streams of blood from your, already healed, brow cut caught Vergil’s attention. His cold eyes start to glow and he unconsciously flashes into his demon form as he leans forward to taste your spilled blood. A pleased yet unsatisfied rumbling growl slips from his lips as he pulls back to look at your now teary-eyed face. “Did you truly think I would simply let you go?”

Reboot Vergil

He is glad you came to him for this.

Not just because Vergil is your lover and is happy you trust him enough to admit your darker desires. It was because Vergil knew plenty of ways to get what he wanted out of someone without leaving lasting damage.

True, none of his previous experiences were done with the intent of gaining sexual pleasure but if you were the one in the chair that would come naturally.

What was important was that he knew how to track and kidnap someone without causing alarm. He knew all sorts of ways to tie down a person to make them unable to move, to restrict their breathing, to stick them to any surface, all while leaving space to get at vital areas. He could find pressure points to abuse, both physically and mentally. He knew how to keep someone quiet and how to make them talk. Vergil knew how far he could push a person before they irreparably break.

Even with this knowledge, or perhaps because of it, he doesn’t just jump right in. He takes a few weeks to gather more information on your interests and your limits. Most of his testing is done secretly, through things like training, medical testing, and a bit rougher sex.

How flexible are you? How long can you hold a position? Are you allergic to any food, materials, or medications? How well can you breathe through different materials or with extra pressure on your chest? How long can he keep you awake? How much can he make you cum before it starts to hurt, and how many more until its unbearable?

By the time he actually formulates a plan of attack he knows you, your interests and your limits, better than you know yourself.

Your consciousness raises and falls, like a fishing float bobbing in the water trying to stay afloat while something weighs it back down. In your flickering between memories and dreams, you think back to when you fell asleep. Or, to be more accurate, when you were put to sleep.

You had just entered your home. Nothing felt strange or out of place as you strolled into your bedroom, closing the door behind you. There were only a couple of seconds of peace before something came from behind you and covered your face. It seemed like a mask, as it was shaped to fit the curves of a human face, yet there were no holes to see or breathe through. The inside was a damp cloth-like material that smiled of bitter medicine and the outside was a hard plastic, which you found out when your body instinctively started clawing at the thing. You also found a gloved hand holding the mask to your face.

Another arm wrapped around your upper half, pinning your curled-up arms to your chest. The pressure on your front forces you back until you’re pressed against the broad chest of a sturdy body. You then try to kick your legs back and though you feel the impact the other person’s legs don’t buckle, only brace themselves. Your consciousness starts to fade away as you desperately gasp for air through the cover. In a last-ditch effort, you try to crouch down to slip from the assailant’s arms but they simply hold you aloft as if you were a small, weak, helpless dog. The last thing you remember is your limbs feeling so heavy that they fall slack.

“You’re finally awake.” Noted a close yet muffled voice, bringing your thoughts back to the present. You finally crack your eyes open to see Vergil, turned away as he types on his laptop which sat on a side table. You, in your laying position atop a cushioned table, try to lift your hand up and towards him but soon find that you can’t. Not only do your limbs feel so heavy that your stiff muscles are unable to move them more than teetering, but also because there were leather straps binding your wrists and ankles to the table. The sound of your attempted movement brings Vergil’s eyes to you, browse straight in a relaxed observance and mouth covered by a surgical mask. “Try not to move around too much, you wouldn’t want to dislodge the needle and cause unnecessary harm.” Vergil explained as he carefully pushed the side table out of the way.

Though unable to lift your head you can turn enough to see a needle imbedded in your arm from the corner of your eye. It was similar to an IV drip but what was actually being injected was unknown to you, though you could hazard a guess that whatever it was what was causing your limbs to be so heavy and muscles so weak.

Suddenly Vergil grabbed your chin with his gloved hand and turned your head towards him.

“Speak.” He ordered like you were a dog who still hadn’t learned the trick. “Let me hear your voice.” He didn’t move an inch more, not until you verbally responded. He was looking, though not hoping, for a particular word.

“Vergil, why?” You say clearly, not giving the word but proving that the chemicals in your body weren’t stopping you from doing so. Your words don’t seem to get a reaction out of him. He does release your chin though, instead trailing his fingertips up your jaw and then down your neck and chest, showing that even though your body was heavy it still felt touch just as, if not more, intense as it usually did.

“Well,” Vergil lifted his hand from your body. “you see,” He reached into his coat pocket and produced a pocketknife. “I thought I had made my feelings clear when I transferred you to be my personal assistant.” The knife flipped open to reveal a six-inch blade. “And yet you just don’t seem to get it.” Vergil drags the tip of the knife down your chest, not hard enough to break through the fabric but so you can feel the danger drag against your skin. “I have realized,” You hear a click under the table and then the whirling of machines as the bottom half of the table starts to split in two and fold, in turn forcing your legs open and your knees to bend. “that waiting around until you notice my affection isn’t going to work. So,” Vergil slides the knife’s dull side down to your crotch before flipping it around so its curved tip pierces the cloth covering your crotch. “I must make them undeniably clear to get through to you.” In one quick, calculated movement Vergil slices through your clothing, opening up your top layer completely and putting enough of a hole in your underwear that he can easily tear them open. “And if that means filling your body and mind with nothing but me, then so be it.”

Nero

W-what!?

Nero panics a bit when you first tell him. Growing up in a religious town where sex out of wedlock and prostitution were treated as criminal offenses resulted in him having a very limited knowledge of sex and all its facets. He is able to calm down once you explain things to him: how it would all just be an act and that you only want to do these sorts of things with him.

That doesn’t mean he can handle doing it though. Sure, he can get rough with people like Dante and Credo, but if he senses the slightest bit of fear in someone like you or Kyrie he launches into protective mode. How was hesupposed to be the one causing the fear?

Yet he was also the kind of partner who was eager to please so he would try for you. ‘Try’ being the operative word here because the moment you start tearing up and pretend to plead for him to stop, he falls apart.

He got close, once, but it was far from satisfying. It was a simple scenario. Nero knocks on your door claiming to be a delivery man. When you open your door he forces his way in, has his way with you, and then escapes. Except he kept breaking character to ask if you were okay and if you wanted to stop, despite already having a safe word. And after the deed was done, Nero was supposed to leave for 5-10 minutes to let you stew in the moment. He didn’t even last half a minute before he barged back in to check on you and start apologizing.

It takes a while but eventually you two do find a middle ground that satisfies you both. One that coincidently utilized his engineering skills.

Nero hummed a tune to himself as he cleaned Blue Rose to fill the silence. With how often he wanted to hide away in his room as a teenager, Nero is surprised by how uncomfortable silence felt now that he moved out of his adopted family’s home. Then again, he usually had you to fill the quiet with but not right now. Speaking of which…

Nero looked over at his laptop which fed him consistent diagnostics and just as he did an error suddenly popped up. Looks like his experiment stopped. Did something malfunction or did you turn it off? Either way, he needed to check on it.

As Nero descended the long set of stairs to the basement, he took note of the lack of noise revibrating off the brick walls. That probably meant you weren’t up and about then.

His suspicion was proven correct when he reached the bottom step and there you sat atop the modified tobibako, just as he had left you. You noticed his presence, turning towards him but not saying anything, not that the silk rope in your mouth would let you say anything coherent.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” Nero said as he placed his laptop on the floor beside the end of the tobibako and plugged it in directly so it could run a proper scan of the mechanisms. “I’ll try to get this fixed up quickly.” The first step was to check the wireless kill switch.

It was still in place, untouched, clipped into the bottom level of the tobibako. It sat right where you could easily reach with your right foot, even if the chains attached to the cuffs around your ankles were wound so tight that you couldn’t lift your feet from the floor on either side of the tobibako. Still, just to be sure you hadn’t been left without an escape, he flicked the switch. Instantly the shackles holding your legs in place unlatched and the metal tube locking your arms behind your back opened up. As the tube, and the stand holding it up, retracted back into its compartment, you slump, hands coming forward to slow your descent until your heaving chest is pressed into the cushioned top level of the tobibako.

It didn’t take long for Nero’s laptop to finish its scan, informing its owner where the problem lay. Thankfully it was an easy fix, but it would take a couple of minutes which was fine with Nero. It gave you a chance to catch your breath and/or tell him if you were done for the day. When you didn’t move, and he even caught a blissed smile through the gag, he knew you were enjoying yourself.

“Alright,” Nero closed the hatch and looked to his laptop to make sure all systems were go. “that otta do it.”

You finch, realizing what his words entailed. But before you can move Nero activates the ‘middle link’ which was a curved mettle bar that, since you were laying across the top layer, looped around your midsection to lock you in place. He had built it with your measurements in mind so it wasn’t so tight it restricted your breathing, but it held you flush against the tobibako as it sprung back to life. The top layer vibrated aggressively while the extended lump pressed against your crotch vibrated violently.

You nearly scream behind your gag while your legs flailed and your hands cling to the tobibako as if it could steady you.

“Thanks again for helping me with testing.” Nero said while moving the kill switch from the bottom level to the top, taking a moment to grasp your trembling fingers and lead them to the button so you knew where it was and he knew that you could reach it. “Though with the holdup I may have to extend the timer so I can collect enough data.” You let out a long whine in protest but all you get is Nero’s fingers running through your damp hair. “Not too much longer, don’t worry. Just another… say… 40 minutes until your snack break?”

V

So these are the desires you have been holding back.

Though catching him a bit off guard, V is fully accepting and supportive of your fantasy.

As a lover of poetry, he has read countless works of literature describing the pleasures brought on by any and every manner of things. And so, though he does not feel it himself, V can understand how one would find it alluring to have someone so attracted to you that they are overtaken with passion, momentarily abandoning common sense or morality to satisfy their desire for you.

The only issue holding V back from satisfying your needs was his lack of strength. Though not as frail as his thin body may have you believe, V was still leagues behind his fellow demon hunters, which you were one of.

If you did lose yourself in fear and panic, as you said you wanted to, then V would be no match against your struggle. His physical strength in battle came from his familiars, and he was dead set against utilizing them for such intimate things. He also refuses to incapacitate you through alcohol, drugs, or serious injury. And even if he attempted to use restraints on you, you would throw him off with ease which would quickly shatter the illusion.

Fortunately, it is discovered that your thrill is more so in the fear of being hunted and being powerless to stop it.

An almost supernatural shadow, oppressive, untouchable, and always looming close by no matter how far you run? That, V could do.

You can hear them, the footsteps, ever encroaching closer but never reaching you. The cool night air both added to the chill seeping into your bones yet was not enough to cool your adrenalin-filled boiling blood. You would think having stuck to a main road sprinkled with cars and pedestrians would have brought you comfort, but even through the clamor you could hear the distinct footsteps. The light flicks of leather souls hitting the concrete then snapping back up to the foot, the light clinking of chains, and the tapping of a pointed cane. The sounds, kept uneven purposely to garner the attention of those looking for it, rang in your head like an alarm. And just like an alarm should, your fight or flight instincts kick in and you take off sprinting. You race home as fast as your feet can take you, desperate to escape the looming dread and go back to the one place you were safe.

This hope was shattered when you step into your home to find one of your empty vases not sitting on your coffee table filled with a bouquet of red salvias, camellias, and red begonias.

Now knowing that your home was no longer the safe haven you thought it was, you rush to pack an overnight bag. As you race from room to room you keep an eye out for anything that was new, was missing, or had been used/moved. Your favorite cup had been used and washed; your pillows and blanket had been rearranged; and your shampoo had been used. There were no more gifts, but a few articles of clothing were unaccounted for.

===+===+===

A notification sound from your cellphone snapped you out of your groggy staring at the damp hand towel hanging over the bathroom faucet. It was definitely one of the hotel’s towels, you could tell by the embroidery despite having been in such a rush to sleep anywhere but home that you didn’t even know the name of the hotel you had booked a room in. But why was it damp and hanging over the faucet for drying?

As you wracked your half-awake brain trying to remember if you had used a hand towel last night, you return to the main room. You flop back down onto the overly soft bed and grab your phone. You quickly spring to alert though when you see that the notification was of a text message. To be more specific, it was an image sent via text message from that unknown number. The one that had been periodically sending you photographs without any message to accompany them.

Though hesitant, you take a look at the newest photo. It was of you, in this very hotel room, sound asleep. This time though, instead of being one of you taken from relatively far away or through a window like all the previous ones, this photo was taken closer. So close that the person who took it must have been laying in the bed beside you. Your sleeping face is at peace in the photo, blissfully unaware of the tattoo-covered hand caressing your cheek, smearing the strip of fresh cum.

Sparda

How curious.

Sparda, as a demon, was well aware that many demons desire the thrill of the chase and revel in the act of forcefully taking or being taken. Nonconsensual union was just as common as consensual union in the demon world.

But when he had awoken to justice, he took on a more human moral stance which included the belief that those who took from others what was not offered were criminals.

Clearly, he had more to learn about humans and the vast grey areas in which their beliefs could lay. And he counted himself so very lucky to have you, his loving and patient wife, by his side to show him all the complexities of humanity.

Of course he will fulfill your desires and, speaking honestly, he himself will enjoy indulging a bit in his demonic urges.

What a shame though that not long after you both started to explore this new facet of your marriage, your fragile human body became even weaker.

So be it. Sparda knew how to bring you the same please even with this slight complication.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention. You shift your naked body into a sitting position, which is the most you can do with how short the chains that bind your hands to the headboard and feet to separate bed posts are.

“I have returned dear.” Sparda announced, casually stepping through your shared bedroom door in his human form with a plate in hand.

“Sparda.” Is all you can whimper out as your husband stalks closer, his already impressive 7-foot height seeming even more intimidating with you sitting.

“I must say, I am very disappointed in you my dear.” His apparent perturbed mood could not be heard in his voice or seen in the way he gently placed the plate he had been carrying onto the side table, in turn revealing freshly cooked hashbrowns, an omelet, and a select few pieces of fruit. “The kitchen staff have informed me that you haven’t been eating as of late.” This wasn’t actually true, you were eating just fine, but that’s not part of the show you were both performing.

“Sparda please.” You beg, yanking against the cuffs binding your wrists together to show what you were asking for, but your plea was ignored.

“You can not be neglecting your heath like this.” Sparda took a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, his height making it so he still towered over you. “You need your proper nutrients, especially now that you are not eating only for yourself.” Sparda reaches a hand out to caress your inflated stomach. “You must think of the children dear. They are relying solely on you and your body to nurture them until they are ready to meet the world.”

“Please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this.” You try to move off the bed but can’t even get both feet to the edge of it, let alone stand up. Sparda pauses then, watching your eyes blown wide in fear and puffy red hinting that you had cried at some point. Despite your desperate expression, you did not give the agreed-upon safe word, so he pressed forward.

“I know that the changes you are going through can be frightening,” His free hand finds yours and gives a light squeeze as if to comfort you. “but this is how things must be. Now that I have chosen you to carry my kin I must keep all three of you safe while you are in this delicate state of creation.”

“Then after?” You cut in, grasping his hand in both of yours and pulling it to your chest. “After I have these children will you let me go?” You looked so very hopeful, but it didn’t last as Sparda chuckled ever so lightly like you were a naïve child asking for a wish to be granted.

“Of course not. The twins need their mother. And who is to say I shall settle for just two heirs? Now then,” Sparda turned just as your face fell into a look of despair. He plucked half of a strawberry off of the plate he had brought in. “it is time for you to eat, my dear.” He holds the fruit to your lips but you turn away with a glare. He responds with one of his own as he grabs hold of your chin and again tries to slide the fruit piece into your mouth. This time you jerk your head back and use a foot to try and push him off the bed in defiance. He does not budge though. He lets out a long, deep sigh as he replaces the strawberry on the plate. “Why must you make things so difficult for yourself?” Sparda moves from a sitting position to a kneeling one. As he forces your legs open you can feel his hands shift momentarily into his demon claws as a warning. “It seems I will have to pacify you first.”

[ae-neon]

I would be lying if i say Feyre secretly like the idea that she can command her family. We see it when they were poor. Yeah, I get it. Papa doesnt want to work , we dont have food.

Feyre hunt. Yeah, our breadwinner. But she bring home also this bossy and commanding attitude. I thought it was just her way to cope with her fear of having to hunt and losing money to eat. Maybe it is her mask, her wall to shield herself from fear and anxiety being in the wood or not wanting her family to worry about her.

But, she gained comfort. Safety,provided and it became clear. Her attitude and controlling thing became more obvious as she ascended as High Lady. I dont realize the scene in acotar 2 where she "wish rhys could force her sibling to work with them" . Tf, who are you to force your sibling? You are no longer their breadwinner, Tamlin is (cuz give them money but papa archeron manage it and now they are rich).

But i sense it the moment the batboy first enter the Archeron manner and Feyre did nothing when the batboy make offensive comment to her sister. Say what you want, but i grew up in one wld and unhealthy sibling. Nobody can say bad word to my sibling except for me and vice versa. Nobody can call me bitch except my sibling. The same thing i mean girl 'its only okay when I say it'- Janis. There is boundary between the family and the outsider. And then feyre let them????? I thought their relationship heal in the last book????

Why the sudden cold between sibling?

And then we got Acosf. Omg, the anger I feel when feyre say things like 'what people gonna say if I cant control my sister. How will they trust me to govern?'

CONTROLL??? you admit it yourself here you wanted to control your sister, feyruhhhh???

And it was never about helping Nesta in the first place? If nesta didnt use the tab or money, will IC intervent her?

I knew Feyre like the power she wield. We see it with nesta. Guilty of it? Maybe like 48% of it but the rest is this feeling knowing your sibling will listen to you.

Then we have Nesta. Smart Nesta, educated Nesta, prized by their mother. I can sense this lead to a huge mommy issue for Nesta and Feyre. Nesta became the daughter and stripped of her worth to fit her mother dream daughter while Feyre leaves by her own. Tending her own loneliness.

One thing i notice of feyre is, she is too quick making a conclusion of one thing. Like how she conclude that Nesta will be a burden when she marry Tomas. She dont see Nesta perspective where she is trying to save her family, especially Elain.

If Feyre should not control her sibling then who should? Nobody should. I dont people came out to me and say 'oh you want nesta in charge because she elder'. Duh no.

They all should respect each other, support where it is needed and care for each other. But of course, no individual is flawless or perfect.

But the attempt to control? Oh feyre, i knew you secretly like it. It give you sense of authority. We see her losing her own authority in the IC, perhaps controlling her sibling is the only one left to her.

Friends? IC

Mate ? He established the IC.

Court? Handle by her mate. Where part she handle?

Education in prythian? I don't see it here. And rhys seem content letting her believe what she want. All goes to Rhys when it comes to decision making.

Her siblings are the only one that left. God, i feel bad for Nesta and Elain. They r trapped. Elain at least can escape to Day court once Lucien is recognized as their heir. But Nesta? Nuh-uh. A cursed indeed to Nesta and Cassian mating bond.

Hello anon

I agree with you. I think Feyre likes the idea of control. In her defence this is probably a coping mechanism from the cabin years where she felt like her mother's promise forced her into action.

But those are just her feelings, it's just her trauma, and unfortunately sjm gave up on addressing Feyre as a flawed, developing character when she had to make Feyre infallible so her view of Rhysand cannot be questioned by the reader.

I also agree that the "control" shouldn't be with Nesta just cause she's the eldest. She's also traumatized and coping with unhealthy methods.

Here's where my opinion might be controversial. (Disclaimer, I'm definitely for the sisters being the centre of this story and their relationship being key but I don't think that's the reality of what sjm wrote)

I think it's easy to see from the meeting in acomaf right up to the reason for the "intervention" that Feyre considers the IC equal or more important than her sisters.

That's fine, whatever, it's her life.

But she did something way worse.

Nesta has no choice if the "choice" is do what I want or suffer. That is called the Illusion of Choice. It's not real, it's coercion.

Feyre should not have offered that false choice. She should have simply cut Nesta off. That's her right (doesn't matter if we think it's morally correct or not)

If it embarrassed her so much why didn't she quietly ask Rhys to stop giving Nesta money?

But she insisted on using her political and financial advantage to dictate how Nesta should live. Control is Feyre's coping mechanism, yes, but when combined with her power over Nesta's physical, financial and political well being? That becomes abuse, whether she means to or not.

And I think you're right, in the end Feyre ends up regressing the progress she and Nesta have made because she realises she has nothing else to control in the Night Court.

She owes too much to Rhysand for them to be equals. She is hundreds of years younger than everyone else. She is still mostly uneducated and under qualified. Everyone has a role with real, direct influence except her so in a subconscious panic Feyre decides she much control her "household"

So all over again we are suddenly back in the literal first pages of acotar where Feyre is trying to dictate Nesta's life - no matter how justified she might think she is.

I think Feyre would be lost without her sisters, Nesta in particular, because suddenly the purpose she had built her identity around "saving and protecting" no longer exists.

Maybe that's also why she got pregnant so young. She needs someone to look after and she's the youngest person in the books so only her own literal child would work.

It's probably also why there was such importance on her hunting and none on what Elain and Nesta did. Because otherwise she would have to face the fact that she wasn't the sole reason her family survived and again this role of caregiver and protector will crumble.

Of course Feyre hunted and fed her family. Of course she saved Tamlin and Prythian and defended the Rainbow.

But now the war is over and she has no core identity. She doesn't know how to help as HL, she just walks around hears sad stories and gets things for free.

Anyways it's actually sad Feyre is so lost. I wonder if sjm is gonna have her sit back for the next books now that she has a baby

[sleepykamukura]

i think ashe is one of the most agonizing characters for me to think about because she’s just like me

her family is a shitshow. i’ve never seen people acknowledge that her parents were genuinely abusive past “ashe’s family sucks.”

neglect is abuse, manipulation is abuse, and it’s implied in a one-off that her mother threatens to hit her

so, long long ramble analysis of ashe’s parents

Graduation Day

ashe’s day starts well, excited to graduate, finally be out of a shitty school with shittier peers. her parents promised to be there, and they weren’t. this also isn’t the first time, according to ashe

she’s upset, she wants to be alone. unfortunately, being alone is what gets her into trouble

The Fight

so obviously a 17yo girl getting cornered by two teenage boys is definitely not a great situation, and the cops not believing ashe was defending herself baffles me

her parents have me even more confused. do you have so little care for your kid that you’re more worried about your image than your safety?

they tell her they’ll disown her, which is fucked. this is a threat, this is abuse

Calamity

when the original gang(tm) have her come up with a code name for their trip to cutthroat trout’s, ashe doesn’t think of a nickname or something badass, she thinks of her mother fussing at her over an accident

The House

this is the biggest piece to me.

ashe’s parents are home on her birthday, they’re angry, they’re either unaware of or unbothered by the fact a kid (cole) has been kidnapped off their property, they’re unbothered that their daughter was inside a burning building, they’re more bothered by their money being at risk

“Oh honestly, Elizabeth,” she said, sounding exasperated, “did you really believe we were going to disown you? Our only child?”

Ashe blinked at her parents, utterly bewildered.

“You were out of control,” her father continued. “You needed to be taught a lesson. Yes, it was a drastic step to make you think we were going to cut you off, but something needed to be done to convince you to clean up your act!”

The world seemed to warp around Ashe, twisting in some way she couldn’t comprehend. Were they telling the truth? Or was this simply a performance, a rewriting of the punishment they’d threatened, in order for her parents to save face in front of Bellerae’s police force?

Something needed to be done.

You needed to be taught a lesson.

to me, this implies that ashe’s parents rewrite their punishments frequently when it doesn’t go how they want to emotionally confuse her

Her mother looked surprised, but only for a moment. Then her eyes went hard. “You know, Elizabeth, I used to think you were misguided, a little too spirited for your own good. I thought having to confront the idea of being on your own would be to your benefit. But now I know better: At your core, you’re nothing more than a base, common criminal.”

“Strange,” said Ashe, glaring right back. “I would have thought that made me the perfect candidate to work with you and all those corporate buddies whose boots you line up to lick.”

Her mother’s hand flickered up, as if she was about to slap Ashe, but it stopped halfway. “Sheriff,” she called instead. “Get over here.”

wow! ok! even if she doesn’t actually hit her, its still wrong to threaten people (let alone your kids) with physical violence

The Aftermath (Part One)

Less than an hour later, she was free. And poor, once again. Her bail, covering the many crimes she was accused of, had been astronomical—taking almost everything there was in the gang’s shared account. That had left a feeling like a hole in her gut, but it was nothing compared to the one eating deeper and deeper as the minutes ticked by and the Diamondbacks still had [Cole]. And yet, she couldn’t help but reflect on how her parents’ interference had left her exactly where they had intended—eighteen, penniless, and without anywhere to call home.

But even if her blood relations had cast her aside, Ashe had found a new family to take their place.

And one of those people was in trouble.

ashe’s family isn’t blood anymore. her parents have hurt her over and over again for eighteen years, and to me i can interpret this of her being drained of every possible drop of love for her parents. they don’t seem to love her, why should she be obligated to love them? the gang treats her better, they respect her, they’re an emotionally stable environment.

The last few months had been the first time in years she’d been happy in this house. Now she was walking its halls for what was likely the final time.

The thought didn’t bother her half as much as she might have expected.

the house is devoid of ashe’s real family (the gang), making it worthless to her in the end.

Packing only some clothing and a few personal items. Everything else, she was happy to abandon. It wasn’t her, not anymore. In the end, the entirety of her life at Lead Rose Manor came to less than half a rucksack.

nothing in the manor mattered to her, i interpret this as her only things she brought was things she bought with her own money

If her parents had kept their promise, she never would have met [Cole], or Julian, or Frankie. And that opened a bigger hole in her than the thought of never seeing Lead Rose again.

This was no longer her home. Arbalest was no longer her company. And her parents were no longer her family.

<- refer to last excerpt’s comment

The Aftermath (Part Two)

right after ashe declares the gang is her only family, it’s revealed that julian is the one who betrayed her. obviously this is messed up, it’s upsetting, and she’s angry.

Frankie’s expression turned even stonier than when she’d looked at Julian. “I’m not saying I don’t understand, but … I’d never betray you—or Jesse, or even B.O.B.—like that. I thought you’d know that by now. But I’ll give you that one mistake.” She locked eyes with Ashe. “Next time you doubt me, I’m done. That’s not something I’ll forgive twice. Understood?”

to me this feels like ashe’s treatment in her childhood has altered her perception of others. her parenrs betrayed her and broke promises a lot, at least as far as we’re told. obviously ashe is quick to jump to conclusions, but luckily frankie is willing to give her a chance to learn not everyone is like that

But even though [Cole] was smiling, one of his eyes was nearly swelled shut, and there was dried blood on his chin from a split lip.

Ashe wheeled on Bez and shoved him into the wall of the cavern. “What did you do to him, you son of a—”

this isnt super important, to me it’s just ashe taking on the overprotective role her blood family never did for her

Seeing them now, gathered and wearing their new insignia for the first time, triggered a strange feeling, one that was so unfamiliar it took her a moment to identify it.

Home. This felt like home.

“But more than a gang,” she continued, “we’re a family. And like a real family, once you’re in Deadlock, you’re in it for life.”

ashe’s blood family is gone, but she has the gang now. maybe her methods are harsh, but she does it in a way they gives out the feeling of love and safety her parents never provided for her

The Aftermath (The Finale)

although we don’t see cole’s betrayal, to me it’s implied he was forced to cut contact with ashe. maybe it’s just a throw away line, but ashe remarks that cole promised he’s right, yet he never did. ~20 years with no contact doesn’t seem like something usual for cole, even if he was disagreeing with how deadlock was straying from its original path.

ashe had been stabbed in the back before, first her family, then julian. of course it hurt when she thought cole betrayed her, the first person to attempt to even understand her, the person she was willing to risk her life to save.

cole having contact with ashe probably wasn’t forcefully cut off, but he instead decided it was safer for her and the rest of the gang for him to not contact him, in preparation of his contact being tracked by overwatch to potentially do another operation on the deadlock gang

okay it’s 4:30am and i’ve been writing for 2hrs now and i’m done uhhh i would love any additional content and observations and analysis ^_^ i like seeing other people’s interpretations