#and I did run out of healing in phase 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliads · 1 year

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Hii Lisa my beloved!💕💕 I'm in my Kaz phase again and some stupid ideas have been running through my head constantly. Hoping you could turn it into a wonderful fic, if you like the idea of course.

Kaz x reader with slight Nikolai x reader😌

So, reader is a Grisha with healing abilities (hidden like Alina). After a tragic event, the loss of their family hit hard and they were taken into care by some people that worked at the palace. That's where reader met Nikolai, they became best friends and later enrolled in Army, became lovers all of that. Reader's healing powers were slightly special in the sense that when they used them there was a golden glow all around, making the wrong people believe reader was a sun summoner. After being madly in love for some time, reader got kidnapped for their powers. Tortured for 2 years, reader was saved by our lovely Crows. Reader believed Nikolai never looked for them (false because he did desperately until he ran away and became Sturmhond after believing that reader died)

Reader becomes a Crow, falls in love with Kaz, they have a relationship for 2 years or so and then, one day they fight about something and right at that time, Nikolai makes his way to their bar. Reader and Nikolai have an emotional meeting that leaves Kaz insecure and jealous.

The ending...well I think reader should stay with Kaz buut I'm not opposed to something else👀

Whatever you want my dear Lisa. I hope this makes sense and it's not too insane. I love you and thank you💕

my beloved!!! this request is literally incredible, why are your ideas always exquisite????

masterlist

You don’t like it when Ketterdam is quiet. This jilted city of yours is always loud, always rowdy, and on the few instances in which it isn’t, the whole place seems to hold its breath, just waiting for something bad to happen. Sometimes you hear things you shouldn’t when there’s no background noise to cover it up. Sometimes, worst of all, you dream.

This dream is not a good one. You only know this after waking. The dream leaves quickly, as all dreams do, slipping back away under cover of night to haunt some other sleeper. You let it pool in your trembling hands, dripping out through your fingers despite your best attempts to stop it from abandoning you. It must have been a tumultuous dream indeed, because for a moment you thought you were back. Back in Ravka. Back with him.

Ravka is not yours anymore. It was, once upon a time, or so you let yourself believe. You were born in a small village near Adena, home mostly to craftsmen without merit and tradesmen with a fear of leaving their homes. It was a quiet, get-what-you-will existence for the most part, up until the point when you reattached a woman’s severed leg with a wave of your hand and discovered you were a Grisha.

Healers are valuable commodities in a war-torn nation, and you were shipped off to Os Alta before you knew it. It would have been lonely there in a city fiercely divided between Grisha and non-Grisha, were it not for the one friend you made there. A prince, of all people. A second son who wanted nothing more to run. Nikolai Lantsov.

You and Nikolai were just children when you met. It took years of close friendship for you to trust each other enough to fall in love, and even then, it was your best kept secret. Princes do not fall in love with witches. Grisha do not fall in love with mortal men. You kissed him behind locked doors and swore it would be enough for you, even if it wasn’t.

Perhaps it would have been, if Fate had been content to let you rest in mere complacency. There was one singular trait that separated you from the rest of the Corporalnik Healers at the Little Palace, one minor mark of difference. You can heal a patient just as well as anybody else, but for some reason, you glow when you do it. A warm, golden light emits from your palms whenever you use your gifts. His sunbeam, Nikolai used to call you.

Maybe people listened in too closely when they shouldn’t have. Maybe someone connected dots that didn’t exist. Maybe it’s just that in a country like Ravka, a country split by the Shadow Fold, a country in desperate need of Saints, it would be easy to overlook someone’s mortality in the hopes of discovering their own salvation.

That’s your best guess as to what happened to you. What you remember best is the aftermath, not the reason. You were taken from Os Alta in the dead of night, your hands bound in chains so you couldn’t fight or use your gift. You tried to scream, but they had a Squaller, a damned traitor, who stole the breath from your lungs before any sound could be heard.

They tortured you for two months, hoping you’d break and show that you really were the Sun Summoner they’d get paid to sell. It never happened, so they dug harder, cut you more, cared even less. You waited in dark and squalid rooms for someone to rescue you, someone like Nikolai, but no one came. No one Ravkan, at least.

You always wondered if you could put a time cap on the love of a prince. It turns out you can: four months and six days is all it took for Nikolai Lantsov to give up on you. You spent four months and six days waiting for him before hearing that he’d officially stopped mourning you in public to go to university, and the remainder of those two years in wondering how little he must have cared for you to give up just like that.

You have no doubt that your captors would have spent far longer than two pathetic years in trying to extract a Sun Saint from your exhausted spirit were it not for your rescuer. A far different savior than you expected, to be sure, far more bloodthirsty than any guardian angel you’ve ever heard about, but he did the job. He always does.

That’s Dirtyhands for you, you suppose, he gets what he wants. And if what he wants is a Healer at the low cost of having to break into a smuggler’s ship while it paused briefly in the Kerch harbor for supplies, so be it. Kaz Brekker was there for money and he was there for a new soldier to serve in his gang. You happened to fit both bills.

At first, you hadn’t known if you were actually safe or in even more danger than before. At least Kaz wasn’t torturing you outright– that was a start, wasn’t it? You didn’t trust him in the slightest at first, nor him with you. It took months of slow, apprehensive acceptance for that to happen.

It took longer for hesitant acquaintanceship to turn into friendship, and for friendship to turn to something more. Something like happiness. Something like the pure contentment of knowing that there is one person out there who would burn the whole world down if you were ever hurt. Nikolai mourned you for an appropriate time, but if the roles were reversed and you were in Ketterdam when you were kidnapped, Kaz would never accept your loss.

He’s all but told you this himself. There was one instance in your first six months of being in the Barrel when another Grisha hunter decided you would make decent prey. You were only an hour later than expected, but ten men were killed and a pleasure house burnt to the ground by the time Kaz got you back. You never feared getting taken again. You think he’s quite proud of that, even if he’ll never admit it to a living soul. Only the dead tell no tales.

So the Barrel is your home, so bloody kruge becomes your daily bread and butter. You wouldn’t want any other life. There is always the fear that you would someday lose that confidence, but you swore that time was over. Apparently not, though.

All that time spent learning to live again, and you still wake up in cold sweats, half sure that you’re back in your birth country and no better off than when you started. Kaz doesn’t deserve that. Your guilty conscience makes you want to beg his forgiveness, so you slip out of your room and up the stairs to his office without a second thought.

You know better than to think that Kaz Brekker would be asleep a few hours past dawn. You’re not entirely sure that he ever sleeps at all. It wouldn’t surprise you if he found a way to optimize his waking hours such that he never needed to close his eyes. Being able to capitalize on the time everyone else spent sleeping would certainly give him a leg up in the race of the Barrel rats.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling charitable, Kaz lets you heal him just a little bit, not the sort of injury reduction associated with broken bones but that of eliminating exhaustion. You’ve learned how to use your gifts without touching skin. Maybe that’s why he wanted your skills on his side in the first place, just in case.

The door creaks slightly when you come in. It is well within Kaz’s powers to oil the dratted thing, but you think he likes the sound. It serves as a warning of an intruder if he needs one, a reminder that he is no longer alone. It tells him that you are here now, and he looks up from his seat at his desk. The only sign that these aren’t normal working hours for anyone else is the slight dishevelment of his appearance, dark hair falling haphazardly over his eyes from being frustratedly pushed out of the way one too many times, his clothes rumpled and jacket removed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

“Could you?” You return.

Kaz rolls his eyes. “I don’t need sleep.”

“Of course you do,” you say matter-of-factly, “You’re still human, Kaz, despite your best efforts to turn yourself into a machine.”

“I think it would be less productive to be a machine,” Kaz muses as he considers the stacks of ledgers before him, “think of the rust. Also, I don’t trust any gadget not to break down when you need it most.”

You snort, closing the door behind you and walking to the window behind his desk. “Machines aren’t the only ones breaking down all the time. People do that too.”

Your voice trails off on your last sentence, and Kaz cuts off his stare with his ledgers, turning his chair to face you. When he speaks again, his tone is gentle. It would surprise anyone but you.

“You’ve had another nightmare about Ravka again, haven’t you?”

You deliberate over your words, opting instead to perch on Kaz’s window seat and draw your legs up to your chest. He already knows the answer, anyway. “Yes,” you reply at last.

Kaz nods once. “It’s not real. The dream.”

You laugh bitterly. “I know that. I just hate the way I keep thinking about that place. It makes me feel weak.”

Kaz frowns. “You’re not weak. If you were, I never would have hired you.”

You can’t stop a faint grin from flitting across your face. “So romantic, Kaz.”

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder and register genuine bewilderment on your face. To Kaz, you suppose, that is the height of romance after all. A true validation of your worth, a promise that you are enough.

It makes you smile. “You’re right,” you decide, “it is. It’s good to know my position is safe.”

“You’re safe,” Kaz repeats. He stands, walking over to the window. He doesn’t lean against you, but you can feel the exhale of his breath on your shoulder, the ghost of the touch you will never force him to give. “I will make sure of it.”

The two of you stare out the window at the rising sun. A new dawn is coming, bringing with it a new day, new surprises. Some of those surprises, as it turns out, will be far more shocking than you could have ever envisioned.

You’d like to say that you recovered from your nightmare pretty quickly after that, and you did collect your wits, but the jittery feeling stays with you well into the evening. You decide to stop by the Crow Club once dusk sets in, both as a favor to Kaz and for yourself. Once you do your usual perusal of tables, only having to point out one particularly gifted cheater to the guards, you allow yourself to drift over to the bar and order your favorite drink.

You see Jesper briefly in between rounds of Makker’s Wheel and talk idly for a few moments before he drifts off again. The Crow Club, albeit one of the fastest places in Kerch for money to leave your pockets, still feels like home to you. The rowdy hubbub, the dim lights, all of it is yours and has been for some time now. The Barrel is not safe, but this is Kaz’s place, and that means you never feel threatened so long as you’re within its walls.

Maybe that’s why you don’t register the new presence until it’s too late to run. The thought that the young man standing before you could ever be here at all is utterly bewildering. This is the Barrel, this is your mess of dingy canals and hopeless cases. What reason could Nikolai Lantsov possibly have to bring him down these parts?

You blink and he’s standing there staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. All the cockiness drains from his step as his jaw unapologetically drops. It is loud in here, but you swear the volume drops just long enough for you to hear him with perfect accuracy as Nikolai whispers:

“Y/N?”

He says it like a prayer delivered by a dying man, every syllable infused with impossible hope. You don’t respond, but something in your expression must confirm his question anyway. Either that or your face has changed so little in the five years since you saw him last that Nikolai can recognize you anyway, even in the smoke-filled haven of the Crow Club.

He draws forward by impulse, steps quickening the closer he gets to you. In all honesty, you have no idea what he is about to do, nor how you would respond, so you find yourself unquestionably grateful when Kaz emerges out of nowhere to stand in between you and Ravka’s younger prince.

Nikolai pulls up short to avoid running into him. “Who,” Kaz says, voice low but cold as a blade, “are you?”

Nikolai’s gaze darts past Kaz to lock squarely on you. You find yourself answering in his stead. “This is Nikolai.”

You can’t see Kaz’s expression from this angle, but you can imagine the way his eyes must narrow anyway. “Nikolai from Ravka?”

“The very one,” Nikolai replies, a touch of that same bravado in his tone you remembered so well.

Kaz scoffs. “Impossible. How’d you cross the Shadow Fold, then, prince?”

Nikolai gestures to himself, and only now once the initial shock of seeing him is starting to fade away do you realize how absurdly he’s dressed. “I left Ravka when I thought Y/N died. I go by a different name now. Sturmhond.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, a high sound bordering almost on fright. “You became a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrects, and judging by the quick answer you’re guessing it’s the same knee-jerk response he gives to everybody.

Kaz shifts slightly, allowing you to see the glare he’s not bothering to hide. “And what are you doing in my city, privateer?”

Nikolai swallows hard. “I heard a rumor about a Healer. A Healer whose hands glowed when she saved someone’s life. I had to know.”

Kaz looks like he wants to physically cut the source of this information out of Nikolai’s throat, but you beat him to it. “Why would you care now? You never tried to find me.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I tried every day until I heard you were dead. I mourned for months.”

“Heard,” Kaz comments, “you never found a body?”

“Obviously not,” Nikolai says, glancing towards you again, “Why didn’t you come back to Ravka, Y/N? Why didn’t you try to find me? I missed you. I loved you. I still do.” He holds out a hand to you. “My ship leaves in one week’s time. Come home with me.”

You find yourself flinching back. Since your first days on the shores of Ketterdam, you’ve long since learned to disguise any sign of weakness, but Kaz knows you well enough to look for signs of trouble in even your slightest of expressions.

The small catch of your breath now tells him all he needs to know regarding Nikolai’s offer. Kaz’s hands curl around his cane, causing the black leather to crease like skin. “Y/N is safe here, Lantosov. She doesn’t need your war-torn country.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who are you to speak for her?”

“I’m the one who actually saved her instead of giving up,” Kaz says simply, “I’m the one who gave her a home.”

Nikolai’s eyes flit to you again, and you nod. “I loved you, Nikolai, it’s true, but I moved on when you did. Ketterdam is where I belong. My time in Ravka is over.”

You see Kaz straighten up imperceptibly by your side. From the way he’d spoken to Nikolai, you hadn’t thought he harbored a shred of uncertainty regarding where you would want to go, but it appears that his worst fears were assuaged by you asserting that you wanted to stay with him.

Nikolai swallows hard. “I won’t blame you for wanting to come home.” Only myself, you can sense him mentally adding on. It is a shame that time has not robbed you of the ability to tell what he’s thinking.

“I already am home, Nikolai.” You tell him.

He nods and leaves without another word. You watch him go, and he does not look back. Nikolai has had quite a long time to mourn your absence. Tonight may have set him back a little bit, but you have no doubt that he will recover just as he did before.

“Thank you for staying,” Kaz murmurs when Nikolai disappears from the club.

“Thank you for fighting to keep me here,” you whisper back.

Kaz’s eyes are sharp when they meet yours. “I will always fight for you.”

That, you think, is the difference between him and Nikolai in the end. Nikolai will carry your memory with him wherever he goes, but Kaz would never allow someone to take you from him in the first place. He would go to war to keep you safe. In a way, you think he already has.

You have the perfect view of Fifth Harbor from Kaz’s office window. You wonder if he planned it that way, so he could see both who was entering his life and who was leaving it. The two of you stand and watch Nikolai’s ship leave for Ravka once more. You wondered if it would hurt to see a ticket back to your place of birth evaporate from between your fingers, but it doesn’t. It’s just like you told Nikolai, isn’t it? You are already home. There is no need to leave.

requested by @zaypay, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @story-scribbler, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

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luaveltarot · 9 months

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𓃬 ʟɪᴏɴ’s ɢᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ 𓃬 8/8/23

July 28th - August 12th

[This reading will be about what will this portal change in you,what will it activate in you and a guidance message.]

1. 🎱🎱

A period filled with adventures and ambition is on the horizon. Although you could be at a moment in life where you feel unstable, restless and uneasy but I see in life you are between destruction and chaos. Things could have ended and they are about to begin. You are about to start a new phase in career, it will be a new environment and here things don’t work the way you were used to working in the past. However, I see that you are eager to test the new waters and you are determined to make this career phase turn into a successful one. For others, who are not going to change places, I see that you have turned the chaos into creation like smoke to cloud and an abandoned building to a workable place. With this change, you are being encouraged to stay flexible and adaptable and use this wake up call to evolve and grow in the best way you can.

You are on the cusp of a major spiritual shift because I see you have sincerely activated detachment in most of the aspects in your life. Figuratively speaking, you are well aware of the fact that mixing all colours turn into brown and it’s better to give every colour the value and respect it deserves while also using each colour only where it’s needed. This change has majorly impacted your emotional connections with people. Now that you give everyone their space, they notice you more than they did before, they feel the need to spend more time with you and strangers feel attracted to you because your energy is high vibrational and lol I see you running away from others like no I’ve learnt my lessons from the past and I’ll not overtime my stay anywhere.

Tbh if you selected this group, you are really genuine and honest people. You’ve been abandoned by people at some point in your lives and you had to reprogram yourself to think that you can only depend on yourself, which is really hurtful and overwhelming. You faced a lot of hardships, specifically in terms of money and wealth but I just want to ask you to not measure your sense of self worth based on shallow material gains. Your guidance message is to reinstate yourself after turbulence. You and your inner child is exhausted from all the running in the past, and your higher self, people in the spiritual realm praise your honestly and genuineness even in those adverse times. It’s time to heal yourself in silence. Shut outside noise and only listen to yourself. It’s a side message but your head, mind or hair is healing,1st house energy. Also a lot of 1’s and 3’s. 13,30,31,33. So you could be seeing 333 or 1331 as your light is returned to yourself from the divine.

2. 🌌

This group is heavily under Angel protection. You will have a change of heart. Idk if you need to hear this but what you think you need, is not worth it. Be it an opportunity or a thing that you want to buy, it’s a waste so don’t spend so much time in thinking about it. I feel you should make use of the things which you already own. Anyway, this is the time when you will reengage with your emotions and connect with your inner self to achieve clarity in what is holding you back. You will be able to figure out the reason behind the block in your manifestation and move with renewed energy. You could be seeing ⚖️ or 🗡️. You could be in a position where people depend on you, respect you and they need you rn. You feel lost and that’s impacting things around you. So work on your emotions so you could have the energy to balance the scales. Number 6 and 9 seems important. ( Angel number 69 meaning found online- it's time to turn your attention to your family life, the harmony of the home, this number invites you to release unsupportive patterns, find harmony, and nurture your spiritual and humanitarian efforts). Also this reminds me of yin and Yang, you need them and they need you. None can exist without the other.

If you have been torn apart between shallow temptation and your ethics and morality, then you are finally having a breakthrough on how to deal with it. You will not feel pressured anymore to compromise your ethics in order to succeed. You will not give into your darker impulses. You are a great person and once upon a time, you were really giving and caring to the world or people around you. You will activate within you the power to take the right decision for yourself. You will see a shift in yourself when you rise above this situation and look at it with a higher perspective. Don’t give up because it is temporary and you’ll be out of it soon.

Your guidance is to invest your talents or resources wisely that you can enjoy this material success. You need to have a strong will to not be swayed by temptations or discouraged by hurdles. If you stick to the right attitude, you’ll produce the right way out for yourself easily. Self discipline and patience is the key.

3. 🦁

Your vibe is so spiritual and pure. It’s calming and peaceful. You are someone who believes in mysticism and connection of oneself with the divine and others. Ok ik you are an extremely kind and giving soul but first see if you are capable of giving more than what you have. You will change this attitude of over giving or over helping. You are someone who will buy for others to see them happy but not invest on yourself. Be it your time, resources, advice or material gifts. First of all, see if you have it for yourself and if there’s extra then you can give to others. In this change, you won’t deprive yourself. You will form a practical mindset when it comes to decision making in a two way street kind of way. So in conclusion you will balance idealism with practicality. Idealism wants to over give but practicality says to fill your cups before. It’s time to not torture yourself with the needs of others.

Your sense of self worth, your speech and your dignity will activate within you. You could have to go through or have been through some disappointment because of your kind nature. Dw because it only happened to get you back on the track. You somehow forgot your inner monologue and got lost in others. However, with this portal activation, you will take some time off from others and introspect to look for answers. You will feel the need to do self discovery and exploration now. You will invest the time on yourself to create the desired person you want yourself to be. Everyone can wait till you launch your new version and you have to make people wait so they can value you more.

You are guided to take ownership in your life. Take decision based on logic rather than emotions. You may encounter sudden problems or changes in the way, but you have the mental fortitude to overcome them with strategic plans and intellectual thinking. In in this soul discovery, you might have to cut toes with some people or something, don’t chicken away instead know that they are not in alignment with your growth. They are blocked in your growth, it can be painful but if you are spiritual, you will easily transmute this pain into your strength and power. Time to row your boat alone. If you have to toughen up your heart now, do it for yourself.

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot reading #divination #pac #pick a pile #tarot witch #pick a card #tarot community #witch

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3terna15unshin3 · 6 months

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a blurb of them at a halloween party would heal me!! (smut but also super cutie cus they’re my babies)

Kneel

—

a/n: hey bff thank u for the request and happy halloween :-)

Read the main fic here if u want more Matty and Este!

—

cw: 18+, minors DNI, alcohol consumption, kinky religious undertones that will hit hard if you’ve seen Fleabag season 2, oral (m receiving), dom!matty vibes ish, praise, cumplay maybe??, also a bit wordy at the start lol

Matty zipped up the back of her jumpsuit for her, since Este couldn’t reach it herself. She was in the midst of covering her nose and mouth with fake blood.

“Easy with that stuff, hey? You’re going to make it impossible for me to kiss you,” he complained, making eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them.

She laughed, running her hands under the tap to wash the excess red off her hands, and then turned around. Her arms raised to adjust the Roman collar surrounding his neck. “A bit of blood has never stopped you in the past.”

His jaw dropped. “We’ll have to put some time aside for confession tonight, with that dirty mind of yours.” He said with a chuckle, playing up the priest costume suited over his body and shaking his head at her suggestive joke.

“I’ll hold you to that offer, actually.” Este giggled.

Before heading out the door, she stole a cigarette from the box in Matty’s pocket to hold between her fingers as a prop—her other hand cradling a small stuffed guinea pig. Fleabag was their favourite show, after all.

When they arrived at Charli’s, music was pulsating through the floorboards and hoards of people filled the space. She was great at throwing a party, so that’s what was expected.

Matty had handfuls of friends to greet but he did it all with his hand still linked with hers or around her waist. By now, they were mostly familiar faces, so it didn’t phase her. Many complimented their costumes; and those who didn’t recognise it, got an earful from Este about how the show it was in reference to was an absolute must-watch. Matty, who was slightly less passionate about spreading the Fleabag agenda, just sat back and watched in adoration. He loved seeing her addiction to sharing things she loves with others.

He also shamelessly basked in the feeling of being called ‘hot priest’ by everyone. If anyone called him just the ‘priest’, he’d correct them, and Este would roll her eyes.

By the time they’d gone round to see everyone, Ross (dressed as Indiana Jones) had shoved drinks into their hands, and had even come back a second time with more rounds. They were buzzed before settling into a spot in the corner of the lounge where the rest of the guys and their partners had gotten comfortable.

After him and Este pulled each of them in for an embrace, Matty took the last free seat and grabbed her by the waist to sit down on his lap.

“Welcome, welcome,” Charli loudly greeted over the music, while hanging onto George’s shoulder, “You guys have gotten some drinks right? You’re good? I’ve got some off limits special stuff I’m willing to share if you want anything more,”

Este thanked her for the offer but shook her head. “Ross had us very taken care of the minute we walked in, so I think we’re all good,”

Ross raised his glass and nodded his head at the mention of his chronic need to make sure that nobody ever had an empty hand.

“You look hot, by the way,” commented Carly, earning a wide smile from Este as she eyed her and Adam and their costumes. They were dressed as the twins from The Shining.

“I’d say the same about you babe. But not hotter than Hann, unfortunately,” She replied, giggling at his blonde wig. He flicked the fake hair upwards with sass in response to her compliment, making the whole group laugh.

Matty’s hands stayed there on her hips for the next few hours, only removing themselves periodically when they got up to mingle or to get another drink or when Este heard a song she wanted to dance to. But otherwise, his touch was glued to her.

It was starting to drive him crazy that that was all he could do, though. She grew increasingly flirty with him as the night went on; making sure to grind her ass deeper into his lap every time she towered forward to grab crisps off the coffee table, or leaning her back into his chest to turn and give him a kiss on the jaw, or leaving her hand way too far up his thigh. Matty wanted more—but she couldn’t give him that.

Then, Charli brought her point-and-shoot camera out and people began to pose. Everyone messily heaped into groups and threw middle fingers and peace signs up and the camera flashed repeatedly. Once most guests and their costumes were captured at least a couple of times, she came over to Este and grabbed her by the arm.

“We need a photo, E! Come outside,”

The excited and tipsy host made Este stand with her, serving looks down the lens and playfully posing together.

“Wait! I should light my cig!” exclaimed Este, still holding the unlit one between her fingers. She reached around the corner for Matty and gestured to his pocket, wordlessly asking him to do it for her.

Este insisted on holding eye contact with him as she grasped the smoke between her lips and he held the flame underneath its end. It made Matty swoon, seeing her suck her cheeks in and then blow the smoke out the side of her mouth.

She enjoyed a joint and its high here and there, but wasn’t as big of a smoker as him, and was rarely caught messing with nicotine. So, the sight was a bit unusual—and it turned Matty on.

After more photos with Charli, Este shoved her phone into her hand and dragged Matty into the frame. He complied, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and giving the lens his attention. They smiled together, earning a collective ‘aw’ from the people around the room who looked.

They took turns altering expressions, some serious and some silly (like when Este stood proudly while Matty grabbed her tits from behind, peeking his head out to the side); all while she only held the lit cigarette without smoking it.

But for one photo, Matty watched her take a drag. She then looked up at him through her black eyelashes, and leaned in without saying anything. Gulping, he followed her action and leaned in as well, realising that Este wanted to shotgun the smoke she’d just inhaled.

So he parted his lips and breathed in as she blew the smoke into them, locking her gaze again. He felt the buzz immediately, and Este smirked with just millimetres between them before pulling away.

Matty swore he felt his dick twitch in his pants—and even thought he saw Este squeeze her legs together in his peripheral vision. Luckily, he also saw Charli capture the moment with both her camera and Este’s iPhone, so at least he’d have evidence that it actually happened. And that he didn’t just dream it up.

“Okay, you guys are sexy. I get it. Can you take some of me and George now?”

—

Este’s behaviour wasn’t innocent and unknowing. He knew she was riling him up on purpose. So in return, as soon as they stepped foot back into their shared house, Matty had her pinned against the wall. They’d barely made it into the corridor.

She gasped, but quickly gave in and kissed him with hunger.

“Something wrong, Father?” Este asked breathily, breaking away for air and tugging at his collar.

His hands tangled in her hair and yanked it backwards to make her head tilt up. “You’ve been very sinful tonight,”

Their lips hungrily reconnected, kissing with open mouths. Este grabbed him over his pants, drawing a hiss out of Matty. She then felt his hand trail up from her waist, over her chest, and onto her neck. He pressed lightly on the sides of her throat. She moaned into his mouth.

“Will you forgive me if I repent?” She asked, while slipping her fingers past his waistband.

“We’ll see. Only if you’re good for me,” Matty answered in a low voice. He grew rock hard as Este pumped him up and down a couple times in his pants. He breathed heavily and made pretty sounds when she dragged her thumb over his sensitive tip.

“I will. I swear,” begged Este.

“Then kneel.”

Sinking to her knees, she took his length out of his pants and gave it a kiss like she was worshipping it. Her flattened tongue ran up its underside from the base, taking his head into her mouth when she reached the top.

Matty shuddered, cradling her jaw with his palm. “Fuck,” he choked out.

She swirled her tongue around him before taking a breath and bringing him farther. His cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag and then moan with pleasure. The vibrations made Matty buck his hips forward and hit her maximum again.

Este's hand did the work her mouth couldn’t reach, setting a comfortable pace and gripping the back of his thigh with her other one. His skin tasted salty and made her shift her hips in desperation.

Matty then gathered her messy hair into one section behind her head. “You said you’re gonna be good for Father, right? Will you show me how good you are?”

She let out a muffled moan to say yes, attempting to nod while her mouth was full of him and her head bobbed up and down. Wetness accumulated between her legs.

“Okay. Then take me like the good girl.”

He steadied her head, gripping it with both hands, and gently thrust his hips. Este opened her jaw wider and took a breath while she could, before Matty thrusted into her again.

He went easy on her to make sure everything was alright, even though her was fully aware that she loved having her face fucked. Este loved pleasing him, letting him take control, and tasting him down her throat. It could make her cum on the spot.

Not long afterwards, he tightened his grip on her hair and brought her mouth down even deeper onto his cock. “That’s it, baby.” He praised, jaw slack with euphoria as her throat constricted around him.

Tears gathered in the corner of Este’s eyes, her nose repeatedly grazing the hairy skin of his pelvis. His thrusts grew relentless. The filthy sounds of her mouth around him echoed through their entryway and mixed with their combined moans.

His head threw itself backwards and he groaned every time Este’s warm mouth swallowed him. “Shit, you were fucking made for me,” Matty said, after bringing his attention back down to the sight of her. Spit dripped down her chin. Her lips grew red at the way they were stretched around his cock.

“Just a bit more. You’re taking me so well,” moaned Matty, feeling his orgasm creeping up. They both knew he wouldn’t last long.

Este was a champ, squeezing her eyes shut as he fucked faster to chase his end. To finish him off, she hollowed her cheeks and stiffened her tongue beneath him, feeling the vein that ran down the underside of his cock, bobbing her head again to meet him halfway.

His hips rammed into her face a couple of more times, before he cried, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. E, I’m—”, and then came.

She sprung up, finally able to take a breath, letting Matty watch his cum spill onto her tongue. His tip sat above her open mouth and ropes of white pooled into it.

Este let it drip out and down onto her cleavage that was exposed through the cutout of her jumpsuit. Raising her hand and wrapping it back around his cock, she milked him of every last drop. The sudden prolonged pleasure made Matty’s hips buckle up, fucking her fist and spilling more of his seed onto her chest.

“Am I forgiven, Father?” she asked after swallowing fully, even dragging a finger through the cum on her tits and then sucking it clean.

Matty’s chest heaved up and down, and his head was so hazy from the mind numbing climax he was attempting to recover from that all he could do was nod. He caressed the top of her head with his shaky hand, then brought it down to drag his thumb over her lips.

It formed into a smile as Este looked up at him, his expression being shamelessly fucked out and giddy.

“I think I actually did just see God.”

#tbsg #meste blurb #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 #matty healy fic #smut #matty healy smut

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urfavnegronerd · 9 months

Text

welcome to boxer boy

hi hi hi, t i present to u boxer boy! if ur new to this concept (or jus need a refresher) below is all of the resources on characters

warnings: violence (not unsolicited this is a boxer au) swearing, use of the n word, talks of racism, and i think that's it, lmk if i missed something!

i wrote conversation the way i conversate w my friends family and cousins, so this is very caribbean/ taíno/ afro latine/ in general black! coded!

published: august 2, 2023

w/c: 2.47 k ish

Chests heave and sweat travels, leaving streaks down pretty brown skin and resting, finally, on an upper lip. Groans and grunts bounce off the wall of a run-down gym, filled to the brim with a burning passion, the passion to prove yourself.

“Miles! Focus up! Eyes up, watch the hands.”

Miles says nothing, a mere grunt in response angling his eyes up and off the ground. The first time he’s fully taken in his opponent since the sparring match. His opponent has a few good inches on him. Tall and muscular, almost beefy, with a square and set jaw. Ducking and fumbling, he desperately weaves and dodges the strikes his opponent throws again and again.

“Miles”

Falling into a rhythm of combinations, he begins to float, weaving in and out of corners, his feet barely touching the floor. Tragically, this ends prematurely with one good hook that leaves his ears ringing.

“Damn it, Miles,” Alexei grumbles, Russian accent thicker than clay, rubbing his face in a combination of concern, disdain, and a twinge of disappointment. “The hands Miles, always watch hands and shoulders.”

Shaking himself back up, Miles exits the ring, climbing between the ropes and tearing off his gloves he groans and sits on the very edge of the ring in front of Alexei who holds his hands out to inspect Miles for any injuries.

“You did good, for someone that size. I have opening this week for one on one training session. Yes?” Alexei almost stubbornly mumbles to him, cradling his face in his hands and inspecting his head for any damage.

“Yes,” Miles grumbles.

“I see you Tuesday at six, don’t be late.” Alexei pats his shoulder in an almost fatherly motion. Almost fatherly.

Pushing himself off the edge of the ring and giving his opponent, apparently named Marco, a quick dap out of respect, he staggers to the locker room, cursing himself under his breath.

“What? You get fucked up out there?” Jakobi snorts, shrugging a black tee over his head. “Prolly ain’t even that bad, son.”

“Barely, the nigga had like three inches on me, not to mention a different fucking weight class,” he huffs.

“That don’t sound like ‘barely’ bruh, sounds like your ass got pounded out there,”

“I ain’t get pounded, it was just a hook.”

Jakobi visibly winces and sucks in air, his face contorting as if he could feel it. Bringing his fist to his mouth, “Left?”

“Right.”

“Damn,” he whistles, rubbing the right side of his face. “You good?”

“Fine,”

Shaking his head and sighing “Don’t sound fine to me. You ain’t supposed to win every time my nigga, don’t let it go to your head.”

“Yeah, whatever man, I’ll see you.”

“Damn straight,” he affirms, clapping Miles’ shoulder and leaving, a duffle bag draped over his shoulder.

And so it begins.

Pulling off his muscle tee, he investigates the small bruises that litter his abdomen and ribs, all of which are in different healing phases. Pressing down on the dark purple contusion, he inhales sharply and jolts his hand back. Rubbing his face and running his hands over his braids he lets out a sigh and laces his fingers on the crown of his head.

“You ain’t supposed to win every time my nigga,”

But he should be winning every time, fueled with the white-hot grief turned to rage, he should be winning.

“Ay, pero mami, ¡no quiero ir!”

Ay, but Mom, I don't want to go

“Kori. You won the lottery. You took the test. We’ve had this discussion for weeks on end. I said you’re going and that’s final.”

“But–”

“Kori. No. I work my ass off for you. You are my world, you hear that? And so help me god, I’m not just going to let you throw your life away because you have some conspiracy about this school,”

“Pero, it’s not a conspiracy Ma! This is what they want, for a bunch of quote-unquote ‘above average’ Black kids to test into some bougie school so they forget where they come from,”

Alma sighs, places the laundry basket on the couch, and turns.

“Look, I get why you don’t want to go to Visions, okay? And it’s a big adjustment for both of us. I don’t understand why you have this hatred towards this school, but please try for me. I love how passionate you are about this matter, I just wish you could put this passion, this spark that I see in you into loving this school. Proving to the world that we aren’t just some stupid Taínos. I love you so much Kori, I want the best for you, you deserve it mi vida. ¿Comprendes?”

A stifled silence follows.

“Kori.”

“Fine.”

“Como que ‘fine’? Por que no dices ‘sí’? soy tu madre”

What do you mean, 'fine'? Why don't you say yes? I'm your mother.

“Yes, Mom, I understand,”

“Good. Help me with the laundry.”

“Miles? ¿Estás aquí mijo?”

Miles? Are you here/ have you arrived my son?

He stops in his tracks, slightly wincing, a bruise forming on the side of his face from the match earlier.

“Hey Mamá,”

Rounding the corner, fatigue lining her eyes, she gasps dropping the empty delivery box and rushing to examine his face.

“Miles! ¿Qué es esto? Qué está pasando?!? tú cara, mijo, estás herido?!?”

Miles! What is this? What happened? Your face, my son, are you hurt?

“Ma, no es nada–”

Ma, it's nothing--

“Miles, ¿como que ‘no es nada’? ¡Mira tu cara! ¿No es nada? Explicame, como eso no es nada. Ahora, Miles, go!”

Miles, what do you mean 'it's nothing'? Look at your face! It's nothing? Tell me how its nothing. Now, Miles, go!

“Solo fue un spar en entrenamiento, no es serio ma, soy bien, te lo prometo,”

It was just a spar in training, it's not serious Ma, I'm fine, I promise,

“... por dios Miles,”

My god Miles

“I’m sorry Ma I–”

“I– Miles.” Rio grabs his face, forcing him to look down at her “You, you’re my little boy. No matter how much taller than me you get, you’re my little boy okay? Take care of that little boy for me, make sure he is loved. And safe, mijo. I want my little boy to be safe, ¿entiendes?”

mijo- my son, entiendes- understand

“I got you ma,”

Still cradling his face, her face seems to crumple at the edges whilst rubbing her thumb against his jaw. It had been difficult to raise him on her own, he was old enough to look after and take care of himself, but at what cost? She knew he was trying his best to stay safe and do his best at school, but she still worried. Worried about him, she felt like a ghost in her own home. Barely there, barely scratching the surface of making a difference in his life. She wanted him to know that she cared so deeply, yet how could she? She couldn’t exactly spell it out for him, he’d grown too hard-headed after Jeff’s death, always insisting to take care of himself. She knew it was for her benefit, to have one less person to take care of, but Miles was her little boy. The little boy who used to beg for a spoonful of whatever was being cooked on the stove, the little boy who used to squat on the middle of the pavement and examine the cracks in the sidewalk with his grubby little fingers, the same little boy who would collect dandelions in a bouquet to give her after a long shift. What happened to that little boy she could just cradle in his chest and protect from the bad in the world? Where did he go?

“Good.” She sighed “Te quiero tanto, Miles, pero ya tu sabes, ¿sí?”

I love you so much, Miles, but you know that, yes?

“Sí Mamá, yo sé, y te quiero tambíen,”

Yes Mom, I know, and I love you too

“Lilac I just feel stupid in this uniform”

“Girl, bye, dudes be likin bitches in skirts and polos now, aren't smart girls the shit now?”

“That's not the point!”

“What you don't wanna find some fine-ass nigga there? ain’t none at Oscasio that's for damn sure”

“You a damn lie bitch and you know that,”

“And what would you know about that, your ass barely left the damn classroom while you were here,”

“That don't mean a bitch ain't look, girl, the fuck?”

“Who were you looking at?” Lilac’s voice calms down to a whisper, and Kori can hear her swinging her feet and smiling over the phone

“That one guy, his boys called him ghost or whatever-”

“YOU HAD A CRUSH ON GHOST?”

“Briefly–”

“GHOST? The ghost? Yall so different forreal but–”

“That's not the point, I'm not gonna be seein none of him at no visions academy”

“Hh here she go yall–”

“I’m just saying–”

“Bitch you been there a month, 31 days, any complaints?”

“... I–”

“Bitch exactly, you don't have no complaints, you like it there,”

“Ain’t nobody say I like it”

“But you don’t hate it,”

“I hate that I got all these twisted ass white folks lookin at me weird–”

“K dot, whoooo gives a fuck? you're just better than them, move on wit it, it's not that serious”

“Lilac it feels that serious is what I'm tryna say! all these rich-ass white kids who prolly aint been through half the shit I did got a seat at the table without working half as hard!”

“Look bruh I hear you loud and clear but now you’re just being a hard-headed ass bitch K dot. Visions have the best programs in allat nerdy shit you're into, fucking look around! You’re getting what you need after years of feeling different from everybody else, I watched you hate yourself for literal years because none of the Black kids in our little Brooklyn public school liked the things you did. And now you have maybe a handful of Black kids just as weird and nerdy as you, but you tryna tell me you ain't like it over there? Bullshit Kori and you know this,”

“Lilac–”

“Would you just shut up and admit I’m right?”

“Fine. you’re right.”

“I know, now listen this kid that hangs around the track team at school, Jakobi or whatever, annoying as shit, knows this kid at Visions. Got his number in my phone from our history group chat, you want me to hook something up so you can make friends up in that nerdy cesspool?”

“Fuck you know about cesspools?”

“Answer the damn question, Kori,”

“Yeah, fine, sure,”

“I got you,”

“I know,”

“Listen, I gotta go do meal prep for track this week, ima talk to you soon?”

“Yeah, yeah”

“Byeee K dot, love you,”

“Love you too Lilac,”

Sighing, Kori flops back onto their bed. exasperated, confused, and feeling violated for whatever reason. Lilac’s known them since the two of them were tiny, right after she had moved to the States with her mom, she knows her better than anyone. She was probably right, but it felt wrong to be said out loud. In truth, Kori loved and hated it there. She loves the way the halls are clean every morning, never once smelling like a cheap strain of weed or putrid hallway sex. They hated all the dirty looks she got just raising their hand in class, hated the way she could feel their eyes burning into the four braids they keep tightly cornrowed to their scalp in a zig-zag pattern. She didn’t know what she felt, but she knew it wasn’t positive. Not in the least.

“Kobi?”

“Yurrr, what's goody what’s goody what’s poppin Miles?”

“Nigga, do you see the time?”

“Whatever, anyway–”

“I don't feel like opening a window,”

“I ain’t comin over?!? You miss me or sumn? Want me all up next to you?”

“Stop being like that, whatchu need Jakobi? You need me to come get you from somewhere?”

“Nah, some girl at Oscasio is mad tight with a transfer to Visions, Kori or sumn, asked me to hook y’all up. Her friend said she had some big-ass brown eyes and medium brown skin and cornrows in a zig-zag pattern and wears them legend blue retro 11s,”

“Ain’t looking for a girl man, and you know this,”

“Not like that, I’m sayin just to have someone on your side in that bougie ass school,”

“You said her name was what?”

“Kori I think,”

“Oh,”

“Oh?” he mocked “Fuck you mean ‘oh’? I’m over here finding you someone to eat lunch witchyo grumpy ass and all you wanna say is ‘Oh’? Well fuck you too nigga, damn,”

“It ain’t even like that bruh, I was just takin in her name bruh,”

“Since when you takin names like that?”

“Since it’s 11 pm and I was listening to music on vinyl tryna put my ass to bed,”

“Oh, you all domesticated now?”

“It’s called a right hook to the jaw, stupid,”

“Aight, man, I gotchu. Sleep good,”

“Yeah, whatever, you need anything?”

“Nah, that’s all,”

“You said what? Blue retro 11s?”

“Yeah, them light blue joints with the gummy soles”

“Aight then, see you,”

“Damn right, you will,”

Miles’ ear is met with the dial tone and he slumps back into bed, stretching under the covers, listening to whatever vinyl his dad used to play at night. The ringing in his ear had lulled to a dull ache, the left side of his face sore, but not hurt enough to bruise.

“Kori. Aight then.”

“Kori, right?”

Jumping out of her skin, they turn.

“Yeah,” She clears her throat “I’m Kori. Who are you?”

“Miles,”

“Oh,”

“Tight Js,”

“StockX,”

“Them niggas too expensive on there,”

Tension immediately disintegrates from her shoulders when she hears his slight Brooklyn drawl and what’s no doubt a nuyorican accent.

“You needa get em when they first drop, then that's retail price without the upcharge,”

“What are you, some sorta sneakerhead?”

“Self-proclaimed,” She shrugs

“Figures, they still white as hell,”

“I’m Taino,” She cocks her head to the side, gesturing to her skin and cornrows.

“The shoes I mean,”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,”

“You said your names, Kori, right?”

“K dot,”

“Like Kendrick Lamar?”

“I did it first,”

“Yeah, whatever, nice to meet you,”

“You too,”

Pulling his lips into a loose smile, Miles walks down the hall towards his next class, a small wave in Kori’s direction and he’s gone.

Miles.

She liked how he complimented her shoes immediately, most people here don’t pay any mind to them. Liked how he was like her in the sense that he liked, or at least knew of, Kendrick Lamar, liked how the conversation flowed naturally with him and he probably spoke Spanish too. It felt good to them, to know that she wasn’t alone in this huge school and to know that this twin-tailed ass nigga probably was a good person. What kind of monster compliments retro 11s? She doesn’t think Ted Bundy did such a thing, she didn’t believe it though. People usually don’t approach them without a reason, but it seemed like Miles did. Cool and casual as if he didn’t want anything from her, which was weird. What did he care about her?

“Miles,” She whispers to herself “Aight then.”

a/n: sooooooo? worth the wait? lmk if this something yall want me to continue!

taglist: @nagi3seastorm @lunarfleur @milesmolasses @hearts4hobie @kombuuuu @hummusxx @n1cole-ghost (lmk if u wanna be on the taglist, i think i'm gonna make a form!)

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach

xo,

a$ap 🩷

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gingerylangylang1979 · 9 months

Text

When a man knows, he knows

Disclaimer: I’m making this analysis solely based on my memories of Season 2 and all the Tumblr meta. I just don’t have the stomach to go back and rewatch quite yet because I do need to rewatch the Carmy and Claire scenes for more clarity. I’m still in recovery.

So I keep trying to figure out the Carmy and Claire thing. There are so many angles and it’s a bit confusing. I get him trying to capitalize on the opportunity to explore the childhood crush and his youth, I get her ties to the Berzattos, I get that she was an escape and provided comfort and reassurance, I get that he couldn’t balance opening The Bear and starting a new relationship in the honeymoon phase, I get that he never showed his real self to her and she coddled him.

My question, and I’m almost afraid to ask, but it must be done, is do they stand any kind of a chance if he did find balance, healed a bit, and felt worthy of love. Why am I asking this? Because I’m trying to imagine a scenario where he is doing better and what would make him try again with her.

Maybe I have my Carmy and Sydney shipper goggles on but I keep coming back to choice. When a man knows, he knows. Of all the men in my life who were serious about me, they just knew. That doesn’t mean they weren’t nervous at times or may have asked those close to them for advice. But they just knew they were all in. And they were all in because of me, not to escape something else. A partner can be a solace in the storm, true. But there is a difference between recharging in the warmth and care of a partner after facing a battle. But that isn’t what Carmy did. He literally was running from obligations and using his very much undefined relationship as a hideout.

So I never felt like he chose Claire. He had to be told to label it, he said he loved her a lot, and on some level perhaps he did/does (which later he switches back to like?), but it’s not the kind of in love that means a choice was made. And for as bad as it got in the finale, I’m not sure a new relationship is worth trying to rekindle when all of that hurt happened between two people and one is head over heels and the other one is having a panic attack at the thought of it.

I mean what would be a proper next step? If they continue this into next season, my goodness. How would Claire have any dignity and what would be Carmy’s motivation? The only way I could see it is if because of him not being present for opening he slacks off with her again because he feels useless. But I don’t know if I see that, it would be a repeat of him using her as a distraction and would be boring for the audience.

He’s also becoming aware of his feelings for Sydney and I think that will show more next season while they also have conflict about his commitment. Do we need Claire in the middle of that? The only way I would be okay with that is if the tables turn and Carmy goes hard for The Bear and Claire is the one asking for more while he is committed to Sydney (the storyline I wanted for this season).

Anyways, rambles, rambles.

#carmy x sydney

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blueskittlesart · 11 months

Note

not the same ganon anon but in your tags you offered strategies?? send help plz 🙏🏻

yes ok here is blueskittlesarts extended spoiler-free totk ganondorf strategy guide! specially formulated for players who generally suck at combat because me too bestie LMAO

pre-depths preparations:

as many sundelion foods as you can physically carry. fuck other healing food it just takes up inventory space. make sure your food can both restore your hearts and get rid of gloom-infected ones at the same time, and make sure you have A LOT of it. food that gives you extra hearts will also be VERY useful.

gloom-resistant food from dark clumps is ok but less useful because it doesn't stop ganon's hits from infecting your hearts, it only defends you from gloom that you might wander into on the floor of the arena. if you don't trust yourself to avoid it, bring some, but keep most of your inventory space for sundelions.

get good at flurry rush dodges if you can’t reliably perform them right now. trust me.

you want at least 100+ arrows and 60+ bomb flowers. seriously do not skimp on these things

as many STRONG shields as you can carry. try to get brand-new ones to maximize durability

i would not EVER go into this battle with less than 15 hearts. i had 17 when i fought it and was still dangerously low by the end. trust me on this

pre-ganon segment (depths):

im gonna be real you wanna savescum your way through this to maximize your survivability with ganon. do not use your food when you get hit, just reload a save and go again. save every time you beat anything, and avoid enemies at all where possible. use arrows when you have to fight but do NOT use your bombs, save those for later. the goal here is to get to the ganon’s army fight with full health without using any of the food you prepared, because there’s no teleport waypoint down there so you have to get through everything in one go. (if you have the travel medallion you may be able to negate these preparations by placing it once you get down to the last section of the depths before the battle kicks in, but I didn't so this is how i did it lol)

ganon’s army:

bomb arrows. bomb arrows are your best friend. the second each segment starts, dash as far away from the enemy spawn points as possible and fire off bomb arrows at them. don’t worry about running out your arrows or bombs because they are useless with actual ganon. this is what we brought them for. again, your aim here is to NEVER get hit so you can enter ganon’s battle with full health and all your food. this means staying far back and firing arrows like your life depends on it. ignore the sages, their abilities are useless here.

ganon phase 1:

this is the most straightforward phase i think. guard, dodge, and flurry rush. you should never try to hit him outside of a flurry rush because that gives him easy openings on link & he will often dodge your hits anyway. keep your shield up until he swings, and go for a perfect dodge every time. he has decently wide dodge openings so once you figure out the timing for each attack you should be ok. try to get hit as little as possible. you still want to maximize your food by saving it for the third phase.

ganon phase 2:

same as before, except extra phantom ganons make it extra annoying. they have the potential to fuck up your targeting, so your first priority at all times should be to make sure you’re guarding from the REAL ganon and not one of the others, because he will ALWAYS be targeting you. you can mostly leave the phantoms to the sages. continue dodging and flurry rushing in this stage, but be mindful of phantom ganons because they can mess up your dodges if you run into them or they hit you.

ganon phase 3:

this one is the hardest. use your food liberally now; this is the last time you will need it. do not try to hit him with melee attacks, even flurry rushes. it will not work. don’t go for arrows either (one online strategy guide claims arrows are the way to go in this fight. they are WRONG), it usually just gives him an opening to hit you back, and his attacks in this phase are capable of permanently DESTROYING your hearts, meaning even sundelion food wont get them back. your objectives here are 1. DO NOT GET HIT and 2. hit his own attacks back at him. when he goes for melee attacks, dodge or guard and then jump back as far away as possible. the further you are from him the more likely he is to go for ranged attacks, which is what you want. when he fires off balls of scary pink fire at you, hit them back at him with the master sword. they will do comically little damage and you will initially be frustrated. this is a waiting game. as long as you can wear him down with his own attacks while avoiding getting hit by him, this part of the battle is decently easy to win, it just takes a LOT of patience and dodging.

ganon stage 4:

this one is easy. if you’ve gotten here, you’ve basically already won the game. good luck!

#asks #totk spoilers #hope this helps lol!

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lindsayribar · 5 months

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I've seen a lot of posts about how having Ricky and Ned together, in the same season, clogged it up with too many villains -- and also about how Ricky was a good, if underdeveloped, mirror to who Stede could have been if he came from similar circumstances but was a less kind person.

All true, I think.

But here's the thing. I think that if I were to "fix" the season (I loved the season overall, but I do think it was weaker than the first), I'd ditch Ricky entirely and develop Ned more instead. Because we don't need Stede to have a mirror this season. Season one was his. Season two, in terms of giving a big life-changing arc to a main character, was Ed's.

Ed's the one who should have had a mirror this season.

And Ned Low was the perfect mirror, in exactly the way Ricky tried to be for Stede. He's who Ed could have turned into, if Ed didn't yearn for kindness and softness underneath all the trauma and lashing out and terrible shit we saw in "Impossible Birds" and "Red Flags." Ned tortures for the fun of it, for the music of it.

In season 1, we saw Stede running from his old life (as personified, largely, by the Badmintons chasing after him while embodying everything that he was "supposed" to be). We saw it catch up to him just as he was figuring out how to be happy in his new life, and we saw it nearly destroy him. We saw him defeat it.

In season 2, Ed starts out by deliberately baiting Ned Low, breaking his record knowing that he would come after him for it. It was a deliberately suicidal plan... except, by the time Ned actually catches up to him, Ed's moved into the phase of his life where he's actively trying to heal from all those suicidal tendencies. Ned catches him just in time to shine a floodlight on the gap between who Ed was and who Ed's trying to be. Same as Chauncey did in "Act of Grace" when he pulled Stede out of bed at gunpoint.

What if Ned-as-villain had stretched out for multiple episodes, forcing Ed (and, by extension, Stede -- and, by extension, the crew members that Ed hurt) to face, head on and out loud, what he'd tried to do to himself? What if he suffered a setback similar to Stede's from season one, then had to work twice as hard to recover from it?

#to be clear i'm not mad about what we DID get #and i love the role that ned played in the s2 that we saw #but ricky bores me and i really think this is why #he was filling a role that didn't need to be filled #ofmd #our flag means death #meta

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via-rant · 11 months

Text

Obrumbratio Scintillae

Chapter 2

Tw: Cringe Man's POV

"Master Kronos, they're just kids. They're hurt, sick."

We'll let them heal and train them to fight like warriors.

"That doesn't make us any better than the Gods, we-"

DON'T YOU DARE COMPARE ME TO THOSE IMBECILES!!! Kronos yelled, the ground shaking. Luke wasn't phased at all.

You aren't any better either. You used those girls and their little friend. These kids are powerful. We do what needs to be done. Do you understand? Luke thought he did. It was the same situation as the Percy kid, so why did it feel wrong? He shook his head. Kronos was right. Besides, the training takes years. They won't go into actual battle until they're way older.

"I understand. I apologize for my incompetence. They'll turn out great."

-------------

When Nico woke up, his first thought was fire. Fire, he saw fire. And Leo. Leo.

"Leo!" He yelled, sitting up quickly, which only caused his head to swim and his stomach to churn. He leaned over the bed and puked on the floor. He regretted it a minute later but shook his head having more important things to worry about. He saw a cup of water on the desk next to him and drank it with shaking hands. He shook in pain and layed back down, his surroundings not familiar in the slightest.

Then he remembered someone carrying them. Are they in danger? Did they get kidnapped?! The questions made his head hurt more, tears falling so he made himself relax. When he was, he couldn't help himself and fell asleep.

-------

Leo woke up on a stiff matress, warm, comfy. Which made him confused. Warm? Comfy? He couldn't remember what happened. He sat up and got dizzy but shook it off and got over it quickly. Then it all came flooding back to him. Nico was dying. Fire. He had to use fire. Some blonde guy. Blue eyes. Scar. Name? Luke. Luke offered help. Leo was crying. Hysterical. Couldn't think. Agreed.

Mierda. He thought and stood up. He needed to find Nico. But he didn't want to alert anyone who might be here. He stood up slowly and froze when he looked around. He just now realized where he was. A tent. He started panicking.

Oh dear God, I shouldn't have trusted him. This is the start of like all True Crime stories, I need to find Nico. He thought sneaking out. He kept going towards the sounds of talking but stopped when he saw monsters. Tons of monsters just everywhere in the middle of the forest. There were people here and there, but he hid behind a tree anyway. Until, they transformed into a green lady who rolled her eyes and left, showing him to everyone - thing? - there.

"Shit."

--------

Nico felt much better the next time he woke up. So he got up and looked around. The throw up was cleaned up, and he felt anxious. Someone else was in here. He got out of the tent and closed the curtain, and shook his head. Monsters. Lots of monsters. He spent so much time out of camp that he forgot he was a demigod. Maybe he wanted to forget he was one completely.

He shook his head and took a breath to prepare himself. He just needed to sneak past them, find Leo, and escape. Simple. He took another breath and stuck his out, looking for a way to get past them. He sighed when he didn't see a way out and was about to go back in, but he spotted someone running past. A person. Curly hair. Leo. He smiled and ran after him the attention on him too now. He didn't care.

"Leo!" He yelled and he stopped and turned around. They hugged tightly, Leo digging his face into his shoulder.

"Nico, what's happening?"

"I-I don't... I don't know." Then someone touched Nicos shoulder, and he flinched and took out his sword.

"Stay back!" He yelled, and they all backed away.

"Hey! It's okay! It's me! Remember?"

"Luke?" Leo asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah... I brought you here to help you remember?" He asked, and he nodded.

"But-but what's happening, who-what-who are these people? Everyone... they said I was insane. Please tell me this is real." He cried and Nico grabbed his hand.

"Hey. Breathe. You're not crazy. This is real. Everyone who said you are are mortals. I don't... know if you're a demigod but I'm... one."

"A... demigod?"

"Half God, Half Mortal. Like me. Hermes."

"Hades."

"He's definitely a demigod." A monster said, and Leo sat down.

"How did you find out... who it was?"

"It's called claiming. A glowing symbol of the Gods signature will appear above your head." Luke explained and Leo covered his face.

"Are you... okay?" Nico asked, and Leo nodded.

"Just... need a minute."

"Let's go back to the tent I was in." He said, helping him up and walking away with him. They sat on the bed, and Leo broke down.

"I almost lost you." He cried, and Nico grabbed his hand, trying to hide his tears.

"It's okay now. I'm here." His voice cracked and they hugged and just held onto each other the rest of the night.

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@moa-broke-me @yonemurishiroku @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid @potatoman-taterdude @unidentifiedimp @the-demigod-slytherclaw @im-always-lost-in-a-book @stillcarmine @art-randomness @cryptic-ember

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez #nico di angelo #luke castellan #valdangelo #obrumbratio scintillae

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imagineitdearies · 3 months

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Hi Imogen,

Long time lurker, first time poster. I wanted to let you know how much I've been enjoying Perfect Slaughter. I think you do such an inspiring justice to with the sheer horror of abuse, comfort of connection, characterization and extension of the source material in your writing. I've never read a fanfic quite like what you have done and you deserve so much kudos for it!!

Since you have mentioned you're a D&D nerd (same!), I'm curious about your answers to 2 questions about mechanics:

1) Have you thought about the tool or material that could be used to create the inevitable back scars 😞 ? I've noticed in your writing how much you have highlighted how flawless the spawn are once they've fully healed. All I can think of is something relating to a silvered weapon or something made out of infernal iron. I also know you probably can't fully answer this without it being spoiler-y.

2) This is more a game question, but I've had a few back and forths with my "forever DM" partner on this. Does Cazador actually die in BG3? For all my experience playing, I have admittedly never fought a vamp lord on table top. But from what I understand, there are few ways to actually kill them (I know of breaking their resting place or trapping their mist form). If Astarion comes in with a knife during a vamp's healing phase, would that kill them for good? I feel like I'm missing something here.

Anyway thank you! Apologies if you already got this ask (I'm new to using Tumblr). I'm looking forward to Ch. 23!

-MafWaff

Hi MafWaff 🥰 Always glad to meet a fellow d&d nerd!

Haha I did get your previous ask and was actually sitting down to tackle my ask inbox after a crazy week (just moved to a different state), so you have impeccable timing! Thank you so so much for your kind words, I'm endlessly ecstatic to hear that the story is being enjoyed. To answer your questions:

Yes I have thought about this! In canon, Astarion says Cazador used 'his needle' to carve the runes. I indeed have my own fancanon as to how exactly Cazador got them to be permanent and it will come up in Perfect Slaughter!

From what I understand, what Astarion does in canon without any other explanation wouldn't, in fact, kill Cazador for good by dnd law 😂 but bg3 definitely plays hard and fast with the rules when it wants to, so we're left to justify why the vampire lord doesn't just mist form back into his coffin again! Breaking/destroying their resting place, trapping their mist form for two hours, or reducing them to 0 HP while they're in sunlight or running water--ie rivers/lakes/ocean, not a bucket, of course--so they can't go into mist form at all are all viable methods for dnd. If you stake them in their resting place, they're instead incapacitated/paralyzed for a millennia until the stake rots entirely away (or some idiot un-stakes them). Others are welcome to chime in if I've missed something!

Sometimes the gaps and discrepancies between dnd lore and bg3 can be a bit frustrating (and spark some tiresome debates online, lol) but these ones have honestly been fun for me to figure out! Sort of like a puzzle I get to shape the missing pieces into 😊

Anyways, I'm excited for you guys to see what I came up with in future chapters!

#fic: perfect slaughter #ask me anything #cazador szarr #bg3 headcanons

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year

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Part 2, Chapter 6

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics - *UPDATED*

————–

PART 2

Chapter 6

Calina rubbed the petal between her fingers as she waited for the phone call to go through. The flower Matt had given her had wilted and died after a few days of sitting in a glass of water on her bedside table. All that remained was the single blood red petal she held in her hand.

Matt couldn’t have known that the colour of the flower exactly matched his Daredevil suit - it was purely a coincidence. But during her more fanciful moments, she thought it was more fate than random chance.

The first and only flower she’d ever received was like being gifted a piece of the man himself.

And with his offering and his apology, the wall that he’d erected between them had crumbled. They were closer now than ever before. Falling asleep next to him felt natural. Waking up in his arms, even more so. And Matt no longer seemed embarrassed to find himself wrapped around her in the morning. In fact, touching her seemed second nature to him now; he was always brushing his hand down her arm or grazing her waist when he walked passed her in the apartment…

It felt like they’d entered some new phase of their strange relationship. She should have been excited. She should have been over the moon.

Instead she was feeling anxious and unsettled again.

She hoped the Widows would have news that would ease those feelings.

“Yes? What is it, Calina?” Yelena finally answered after the phone had run a dozen times. She sounded annoyed.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” Calina replied. She couldn’t hide the snark in her voice. “I was calling for an update, seeing as you guys have been radio silent for the last couple of weeks.”

Yelena’s answer was just as snarky. “Well, I’m sorry that we’ve been too busy trying to find info on the man who drugged you to text you all hours of the day.”

“Well has all your busy-ness paid off? Have you found out who he was? Are there more like him out there?”

“Sort of. Yes. And we don’t know.”

Calina mentally matched the brusque answers to her questions. Then sat up straight, the petal falling forgotten to the floor. “Really? You know who he was?”

“Nicolai Aminev. A low level grunt from the research division of the Red Room.”

“Low level?”

“Yeah. Best we figure, he stole some tech during the chaos of the Red Room fall, managed to survive, and tried to make some cash out of selling a Widow.”

“If that’s the case, then there shouldn’t be anyone else after me. If he wasn’t part of some bigger operation-”

“We don’t know that for sure yet. We have a lead on some of his associates that we’re following up on. In fact, we were prepping for a recon mission when you called.”

Calina winced at the not-so-subtle rebuke. “I’m sorry. I know you guys are trying. I’m just feeling…trapped here. And useless.”

“It was your choice to stay.”

“I know. And I don’t regret it. I’m just going a little stir-crazy, Yelena. I can’t stay cooped up in this apartment much longer.” She rose from her chair and stared out of the windows, subconsciously counting down until the moment the billboard outside changed display. She knew the timings and the pattern down to the second. She knew every crack and mark in every window pane. She knew every dent and scratch in the floorboards and every frayed thread in the rug.

She never thought she’d get sick of being in Matt’s apartment, but she was fast approaching that point.

“I hate that they did this to me, again,” she continued, her voice rising with anger as she paced. “I hate that they took away my choices - again. I’m trapped again because of those…those fucking bastards, and I hate it!”

The rage and the frustration and the helplessness that had been simmering inside her for weeks suddenly boiled over, until it had nowhere to go but out. She lashed out and punched the wall between the arched windows. The hard brick scraped her skin, causing it to split.

A warm, strong hand suddenly covered hers. “Don’t do that,” Matt whispered, stroking the damaged skin of her knuckles.

She gazed up at him, surprised. She hadn’t even noticed he’d come home from work.

How much had he heard?

He took the phone from her other hand and put it to his ear. “Yelena? It’s Matt. I’ve got this.”

She could hear Yelena’s tinny reply. “I warned you this would happen.”

“I know. I’ll deal with it.”

He hung up. “Go get changed,” he said to Calina.

“What?”

“Put on some workout clothes. We’re going to the gym.”

———

“She’s going to get angry. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. But at some point, she’s going to snap out of her numbness and her fear and she’s going to get really, really angry. And you need to be prepared for that. You need to give her an outlet.”

Matt remembered Yelena’s words vividly. She’d taken him aside as the three Widows were leaving that Friday night weeks ago and issued her warning.

And Matt had been waiting ever since for Calina to snap.

It looked like tonight was the night.

“Are we allowed to be here?” Calina asked, as he ushered her into Fogwell’s with a hand on her back. She sounded curious, but there was still a tension in her voice. The muscles in her back were taut, as if she was wound tight.

“It’s been abandoned for months,” Matt explained. “I come here all the time. It’s fine.”

He dumped his bag on the floor and shrugged out of his jacket and sweatshirt, leaving him in a sleeveless T-shirt. He sat on the bench beside the ring and started wrapping his hands as Calina wandered around the disused gym.

She flipped back the hood she’d worn to disguise herself as they’d left his apartment. The move sent a wave of her scent towards him, clearing the musty smell of the gym from his senses. The dust on the floor swirled about her feet as she inspected the old equipment, and he heard a punching bag swing as she gave it a light tap. The wooden stand by the lockers creaked as she picked up one of the dumbbells resting on it.

“‘No Pain, No Gain’,” she murmured, reciting the mantra painted on the wall. “We have a similar saying in Russia: ‘Without effort, you won’t even pull a fish out of a pond.'”

Matt laughed. “Not quite as catchy.”

That would have made her smile a few days ago. But now there was no response. She just moved on to the Wing Chun dummy in the corner. Before the gym had closed down they’d started hosting Kung Fu classes to try and generate more income. The dummy was a remnant of that failed plan.

He heard a muffled whack as Calina hit one of the wooden slats. Then another. And another, the pace increasing until she was executing a fast series of blocks and strikes against the dummy in a practiced routine.

Matt winced as the force of her hits increased. He could hear her breathing heavily beneath the rhythmic sound of her attack.

“Hey.” He came up behind her and pulled her away from the dummy by her shoulders. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

She shrugged out of his hold and viciously kicked the wooden statue. “No pain, no gain, right?” she sneered.

“I didn’t bring you here to hurt yourself-”

“So why did you?”

“Yelena said you’d need an outlet. This is the one I use.” He handed her some wrap for her hands and a pair of gloves. “I thought it might help.”

“I’m not much of a boxer.”

He remembered the way she’d fought against him before, all balletic grace and lithe deflection. “No. But the gloves and the bag will be less painful than the dummy. Just try it.”

While she prepped her hands, Matt tugged on his own gloves and started hitting one of the bags. By the time he’d slipped into his own rhythmic routine, Calina was next to him, jabbing forcefully at the other bag.

Her form was good. She may not favour the style during a fight, but she was obviously well trained in it. She was light on her feet and swung from the hips, and her gloved hands connected with the swinging bag with satisfying slaps.

Matt tried to concentrate on his own bag - wanting to give Calina the space to process her anger on her own - but after a while it became hard to shut out the signs of her distress. The more she punched, the more erratic and harsh her breathing became. The faster her heart rate. He could taste the salt from her angry tears and her grunts of effort transformed into cries of rage as she pummelled and kicked at the leather target in front of her.

He wanted to pull her away from the bag and into his arms where he could hold her close. But she needed to work through this. She needed to let her anger out. So he continued with his own workout and waited for the moment she exhausted herself.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait too long. After one last vicious roundhouse kick, Calina staggered back from the bag and braced herself on her knees, panting. When she straightened up, he finally got the chance to wrap his arms around her. He held her firmly from behind and rested his head against the side of hers.

Her breathing started to slow and sync to his, just like when they would meditate together. Her heart rate levelled out too, and eventually she relaxed back against him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Do you feel better?”

Another nod. “Yes, thank you.” Her voice was hoarse from her cries.

He reluctantly broke the embrace. “I’ll grab you a drink.”

He ripped off his gloves and dug through his gym bag for the water bottles. When he returned to Calina she was studying something on the wall.

And he knew exactly what it was.

“Here,” he said passing her a drink.

“Thanks.” He heard her twist off the cap and gulp down the cool liquid. Then she started played with the half-empty bottle, rolling it around between her palms, making the plastic crinkle. He knew her well enough now to recognise the meaning behind her uncharacteristic fidgeting - she was debating whether to say something.

“You can ask,” he said, gesturing to the poster he knew was on the wall in front of her.

“‘Carl Crusher Creel vs Battlin’ Jack Murdock’,” she read. “That’s your Dad? You said he was a boxer.”

“Yeah. This was his local gym. I practically grew up here. I used to sit on that bench over there and do my homework while he sparred.”

She took a seat on the bench he mentioned and he joined her. His eyes swept around the room, as if he could see its contents. And in a way he could. This vantage point was so familiar to him - it was one of the clearest memories he had from when he still had his sight. He could easily overlay the details he remembered onto the impression his senses gave him of the room - the black shine of the floor; the silver duct tape holding the punching bags together; the beat up looking grey lockers and the rich golden yellow light that would flood the room at dusk.

“Do you want to tell me about him?” Calina asked. “About your Dad?”

Matt sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. “There’s not much to tell. He died when I was nine.”

“I’m sorry.”

Matt shrugged. “It was just the two of us growing up, and I idolised him - so much. I knew he wasn’t invincible, not like some kids see their dads. I had to stitch him up after enough fights to know that he bled and bruised just like a normal person.” Matt let out a hollow laugh at the memory. “Man, could he take a beating. He could get hit all day long and never got knocked out. That’s how he won his fights - outlasting the other guy. Never giving in.”

Matt could hear his Dad’s voice, clear as day in his head. ‘It ain’t how you hit the floor, Matty. Its how you get up.’

He continued speaking, his voice wistful now. “I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Even though he hated that idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t want me to be a fighter. He wanted me to get an education and get out of Hell’s Kitchen. He’d be proud of me for being a lawyer. I’m not so sure he’d be proud about the Daredevil thing.”

“But you’re helping people.”

There was that acceptance again, Matt thought, remembering his internal battle the other night during the storm.

But now he was worried that she was a little too accepting. That she’d romanticised what he did and turned it into something more noble than what it was. She’d never seen what he did in the suit, after all. She’d never seen him when he truly became the Devil

“I don’t think he’d see it that way,” Matt tried to explain. “We both have this…thing inside us. This rage and this darkness that’s always trying to claw itself out. ‘Beware those Murdock Boys. They got the Devil in ‘em.’ That’s what my Gran used to say. She saw it in my Grandfather. And in my Dad. During his fights…he would occasionally snap. His eyes would go dark and he’d just start wailing on the other guy. I think Dad would worry that I’m just using the suit as an excuse to let that rage out.”

“Is that what you believe?”

Matt leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. He tugged at the fabric wrapping his hands as he debated how honest he should be. “Sometimes. Sometimes I worry that I’m kidding myself that I do this for any other reason than to hurt people.”

“You’re wrong.”

He sighed. “Calina, you can’t say that. You haven’t seen me out there. I-”

“Yes, I have.”

Matt sat up straight and faced her. “What?”

She bit her lip and looked away.

“Calina?” He prompted, starting to get worried. When had she seen him? What had she seen?

“When I first found out about, um, you being Daredevil. I followed you. At night.”

“You followed me?”

“Yes. I was curious. I was trying to reconcile this person that I knew from this tabloid news story character.”

“How often did you follow me?”

“Just a few nights. Four at the most.”

“Jesus.” Matt sprang up from the bench and started pacing. He didn’t know what he most angry about. That she’d kept it a secret from him? That she’d seen what he was like as Daredevil, or that he’d been followed that many times without suspecting a thing.

No, that wasn’t right. He had suspected something. He remembered back to that time period, and the vague sensation he’d had of being watched. But it had gone away after that incident by the docks.

That incident…

“It was you.”

“What?”

“That night, with those kidnappers. It was you, wasn’t it?” She’d been the one who'd taken out the thugs while he was lying incapacitated on the floor.

She tipped her chin up. “Yes.”

Matt raked his hands through his hair as he thought back to that night. And to the next morning, when Calina had come to his door.

She’d been checking up on him. She’d known he’d gotten beaten up, so she’d come to check on him. He’d let her back into his life that morning. Everything that had brought them closer together since had started that day.

And it was all based on a lie.

He’d never suspected that she’d had an ulterior motive that morning. He’d just accepted the care and attention she’d given him while he’d been sick.

God, every time he was reminded of how good a liar she was it hit him like a suckerpunch.

He forced down the betrayal that he felt. They’d both resolved to start fresh and discard the lies that had tainted beginning of their relationship. By introducing themselves to each other after their fight, they’d wiped the slate clean. Then they’d sealed that unspoken deal with a handshake.

He needed to let it go.

So he focussed on something else that he’d been wondering about from that night by the docks. “What did you use? To take those guys down. I remember hearing something odd, like an electronic device…”

“It’s called a Widow’s Bite. It’s an electroshock weapon. Standard kit on a Widow’s suit.”

“Wait, you were suited up? As a Black Widow? Jesus, Calina! Did it ever occur to you that that’s how you were found?”

The stubborn tilt of her chin edged up a notch. “Of course it did. But I don’t regret it. You needed my help. And that little girl needed you. Just like the other people you saved that week. When I followed you, I didn’t see someone revelling in violence and enjoying the pain he was inflicting. I saw someone helping his community. You showed mercy towards the people you stopped, Matt. Not needless cruelty.”

He took a seat beside her again and shook his head. “There’s still something dark inside of me. You need to understand that-”

“We all have that, Matt. Parts of ourselves that we’re not proud of. Dark aspects of our soul.”

It was her turn to sound self-loathing. He rested his hand on top of hers on the bench between them. “Hey. Whatever darkness you think resides in your soul was put there by the people who trained you and controlled you.”

She laughed bitterly. “I’m not the innocent victim you think I am, Matt. I’ve made choices - since I was free of the Red Room - that I’m not proud of.”

“But those choices were informed by the life that they forced you to live. By the person they forced you to become. Could you still say you’d have acted the same if you were allowed to be raised by your family, in a loving home, far away from the Red Room?”

She turned her hand over to grasp his, as if it was her turn to offer comfort. “The same could be said for you, Matt. If you hadn’t had your accident, and lost your Dad, would you still feel the same about the man you are today? We’re all at the mercy of chance. We’re all shaped by our experiences.”

He shook his head. “But that’s what I was saying before, about me, and my Dad. This is nature, not nurture There’s something inside us-”

“No. I don’t believe that. You make it sound like there’s something fundamentally wrong with you-”

He gave a hollow laugh. “Calina I dress up in a devil suit to go beat up criminals at night. That’s hardly the picture of a normal, well-adjusted human being.”

‘“It’s no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society’,” she quoted.

“What?”

“I moved on to philosophy books this week, and came across that quote from Krishnamurti, an Indian philosopher,” she explained. “I think it means that most people go about their lives not seeing the sickness and corruption in this world, or not caring about it if it doesn’t directly affect them. But people like you - who’ve experienced it, and gained empathy from it - they don’t conform. They fight. They fight to make the world a better place. That’s how I see you, Matt. Not as some rage-filled monster.”

Matt sat in silence for a few moments, humbled by Calina’s opinion of him. He tried to absorb the words, to make them his truth…but he was fighting against thirty-odd years of dogma. Thirty-odd years of believing there was something wrong with him.

It would take more than a few words…but he was still grateful. “Thank you.”

She squeezed his hand in response.

“And thank you, for before,” he continued. “That night with those kidnappers. If you hadn’t been there…you probably saved my life.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Thank you for saving mine the night with the serum.”

“I didn’t save your life. All I did was hurt you.” He could still hear the crack of her knee impacting the floor. He could still hear the pop of her elbow as it was wrenched out of his socket. He could still feel the heat rising from the bruises littering her skin...

It didn’t feel very heroic.

“You stopped me from having to live that life again, Matt. I consider us more than even.” She stretched her arm out in front of her. “And look, good as new.”

He took hold of her arm and moved it around, feeling the joint as it flexed, wanting to assure himself that she was telling the truth.

And she was. There was no evidence of any lingering damage.

He ran his thumb down the delicate skin of her inner arm, and reluctantly let go when she started talking again. “I think that’s why I’ve been feeling so antsy lately,” she said. “And why it all came to a head tonight. I feel ready to go back to my life, but I’m still at the mercy of whoever’s out there.”

“Did Yelena have any leads on that?” he asked.

Calina explained about the identity of the man who drugged her. “But Yelena’s being cautious - she’s worried there’s more to it than a low-level lackey trying to make some money.”

“What do you think?”

“I think what I’ve always thought - that there’s no danger here. Not anymore.”

“Does that mean…are you going to move back into your place?”

There was a beat of silence. Then another. And he felt like every muscle in his body went tight as he waited for her answer. “Calina?”

“Is that what you want?” she finally said, turning his question back on him.

“No,” he replied.

And it was the truth. He knew she’d have to leave eventually. He just hadn’t let himself think about what that would feel like - watching her walk out of his door. And he didn’t want to think about it now.

He wasn’t…ready.

“You can stay as long as you need, you know that,” he finally said.

“Then I’ll stay a little longer. I, um, think Yelena would feel more comfortable that way.”

Matt smiled, recognising it as an excuse.

She wanted to stay.

With him.

“Then stay.”

————–

Chapter 7

Taglist: @hollandorks, @yanna-banana, @stilldreaming666, @tearosearts-blog @chezagnes, @freckledbabyyy, @acharliecoxedfan,

If you’d like to be added, let me know!

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x original female character #Matt Murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x original character #tabula rasa

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echantedtoon · 2 months

Text

Everyone Wants A Brother Like You Part 2 Inosuke

Just a heads up these chapters are gonna be short. They're not meant to be very long and this story is just for fun. Hope you all enjoy!)

The leaves and wind running around through the tree tops created a beautiful symphony for the ears. The breeze felt nice against her skin and was a relief from the warm summer sun's sunlight. Truly today would be a good day for everyone.

"Tanjiro!" A pair of red eyes looked at her as she smiled. "How are you feeling today?"

"Nezuko!" The boy immediately set the bowl of rice he'd been eating to the side and stood up turning to greet his sister with a bright smile on his face. "I'm fine. Although my cuts still stung from Ms. Shinobu reapplying new bandages to them."

Good. That meant he was recovering nicely from the final battle against Muzan. Until Tanjiro's injuries fully healed or at least healed enough to safely travel without worrying about harm, they'd be staying here at the Butterfly Mansion until then along with everyone else who also needed healing. But she didn't like the idea of just free loading so Nezuko often found herself helping Aoi take care of things or visiting her brother and his friends. Like today she was going to do a large basket of laundry in her hands but stopped when she noticed her brother sitting outside the door eating food and she had to stop and say hi to him but mostly she wanted to ask and make sure he was alright.

"What do you have there?," he asked gesturing at the large basket in her hands.

"Aoi's really busy so I offered to do the laundry for her!"

"How nice of you! Hey! I'll help you!"

Her brow rose. "Are you sure? Your injuries."

"I'll be careful. We haven't spent much time together anyways! Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Behind them both a figure moved about the shadows and towards the door. Sneakily a body pressed against the doorway inching closer and closer to the open doorway. Until he poked his head out and looked directly at the siblings smiling at one another.

"Hm. Well ok. But finish eating your food first. You need your strength to heal."

"Alright! I don't think Shinobu would like me just leaving out unfinished food either."

Nezuko nodded before looking behind him and pausing. Causing Tanjiro to also pause in the middle of reaching for his food again and turning behind him. Both siblings paused at seeing a literal boar head staring at them from behind the doorway half hiding. Before Tanjiro smiled happily at him.

"Hi Inosuke! Did you want to help us with the laundry?"

Instead of answering the other boy just ducked behind the door again noticing that he was caught and similar to a squirrel scurried away from the door and out of sight. Not that it phased either of the siblings already being used to Inosuke's actions by now.

"Hm. I guess not. Oh well."

Little did they know that Inosuke did not really leave or at least go too far. Instead he hid just out of sight poking his head out from behind a bed watching as Tanjiro finished his food, and then left with Nezuko towards the well on the other side of the garden. As soon as the both of them were out of sight, he crawled forward back to his previous place hidden behind the doorway and poked his head out once again. Finding the two siblings smiling and walking off all the way towards the other side of the garden. As stealthy as a mouse he snuck out, crawling across the grass and wordlessly behind a giant flower bush surrounded by butterflies as he followed the siblings.

He stayed close by the entire time peeking behind random hiding spots before scurrying to a new one as he closed in on them both before stopping behind one tree and watching patiently as the two siblings smiled away as they gathered water from the well and they got to work washing the laundry with the water Tanjiro lugged over for Nezuko and then helped her scrub down the sheets. He byed his time waiting for the perfect moment to sneak closer to them. Or more Specifically his actual target Nezuko. As she sweetly smiled at her brother laughing at something he said as they rung water from freshly cleaned sheets before placing them back into the basket soaking wet. He waited like that for minutes before they finally carried the basket over to the clothes lines to hang up, and he took that opportunity to sneak closer crawling low across the grass and then behind a few small bushes lying flat on his stomach. Poking his head out to keep track of the two hanging the sheets against the wind one after another.

"There! All done!" Nezuko beamed proudly at their handiwork hanging on the line.

"Great job! Ali's going to be so happy."

Nezuko smiled at him and looked about ready to say something-

"TAKE OUT TIME!!"

Until all at once she was suddenly not standing there. It all happened so fast. One moment Nezuko was standing there and the next his sister was sprawled out on the grass dazed and blinking as someone held her in a 'just tackled' way.

"INOSUKE!?" Tanjiro yelled out looking horrified at his friend who just tackled her to the ground. "What are you doing?!"

"HAHAHA!!" He proudly stood up proudly pointing at his shocked expression. "Lord Inosuke has obtained this brother just like every underling has!!"

"What are you talking about?" A wheeze directed his attention to the ground. "Nezuko!" In an instant he was kneeling at her side pulling her up to stand. "Are you ok?!" She shook her head but nodded much to his relief. "Oh thank goodness. What were you doing?" He turned back to his friend who still stood proud.

"Silence!" He pointed at his face. "Bow down to your superior brother!"

Both siblings just stared at him. "....What?"

"I heard from one of my underlings that I get a brother by taking out your sister!" He pointed out Nezuko who blinked. "So now you both have no choice but to accept me as your superior brother!"

Tanjiro... slowly blinked. "So.. Someone told you that I'll be your brother by taking out my sister??"

"THAT'S WHAT I JUST SAID!!"

... Tanjiro facepalmed with a groan. "Inosuke, that's not what they mean by 'taking out' Nezuko."

.. Inosuke tilted his head confused. "Eh? What do you mean? Do I need to fight her or something??"

"No! No fighting! Just...*sigh*"

"I'm..confused." Nezuko said.

"ME TOO!! ARE WE BROTHERS OR NOT!?"

Tanjiro rubbed his head but eventually smiled at him. "You really want to be out brother huh? Alright then, Inosuke. You can be our brother if you want to. I don't mind. Just..No more tackling Nezuko. That's not a good thing."

"HA!! Once again the great Inosuke gains victory!"

...Nezuko blinked again. "I'm still confused."

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jemmo · 6 months

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for the ask game, 7, 12, 17! 💗🌼

thank you for the ask :)) and sorry its late i was gonna answer this at the bus stop yesterday but for once they decided to be on time

7. top 5 bl

man i had to stare at my mdl completed list for a while to decide this, but i'll preface that these top 5 are here both bc i have such a strong emotional connection with them and bc i want to scream about how actually good they are from a rooftop (also not ranked bc thats too hard):

utsukushii kare - don't know else i can make it clear how beloved and special this show is to me. an excellent story across both seasons and the movie with even better mains that are characterised to perfection, develop in the most beautifully human way and are performed brilliantly. and if i think about this show any longer and remember its over i will break so moving on

old fashioned cupcake - it was one thing to give me a bl starring THE og kageyama stage play actor bc those things were my life during the height of my anime phase, but to then have it be this good?? the story is beautiful, the fact they manage to do so much with such little run time amazes me, and to this day it has the most romantic line in any bl that always gives me goosebumps when i watch it. and i dont wanna talk like im that old, im only 25, but as someone who's barely had anything you can call a romantic experience, this show left me with the warmest sense of hope and comfort that beautiful love stories aren't reserved for high schools, and its never too late to find happiness

blueming - i havent rewatched this one in a while, or much at all, but i'll never forget the visceral response i had when i binged it all in one night. i adore the fact that this is just the gentlest story of 2 people falling in love and finding comfort in each other and just how naturally and simply it happens, and i think its portrayal of that specific family dynamic is phenomenal, bc for me at least its as much about that family being in the process of healing as it is about the love story, and the fact they go hand in hand is even better

bad buddy - what else is there to say. for the 12 weeks it aired, i ate, slept and breathed this show. literally did not even think about anything else. and this show has rightly been praised to the moon and back but as well as all that, its always gonna be special for me bc of the people and community i found and shared the watching experience with. what can i say, you just had to have been there, and im so glad i was

the eighth sense - surprisingly this was my last pick and i was debating swapping it for a few others, but it ultimately stays bc of how refreshing and how much of an emotional rollercoaster it was. i haven't ever brought myself to rewatch it, but i can vividly remember how enraptured i was by the sheer amount of tension they managed to create in those initial episodes, and how well they managed to maintain it. and i hope people take note of how much people loved its artful and kinda raw vibe and become inspired to do something similar bc i think it gives great balance to the genre (and i also, clearly, love it, just look at these pics. i promise i do love fun and silly stuff too)

12. most rewatched bl

i was debating putting this on my list but ultimately, while not being my absolute favourite, its my definition of a comfort show and that is my dating sim. idk what it is about the show, but ever since it came out i go back to it at the very least monthly. i think its the fact that when im really craving a good bl, it manages to not only hit all my favourite tropes (unrequited but secretly requited love, reuniting and digging up the past, that initial clash gives me a lil bit of enemies to lovers, plus it has enough fluff to make me all warm and giddy), but it also does them so well, and the story is so perfectly simple and succinct that i feel so content when the whole thing is over. truly the perfect show for when i wanna do nothing and feel happy.

17. best kiss

unsurprising but yes, it still is the bad buddy rooftop kiss. i dare not watch this kiss bc i know if the weakness ever overtakes me i will fall into a void that i will not escape for at least a week. and honestly, while there has been some good competition, idk if she'll ever be beaten, and idk if thats bias talking or just the objective truth, but i encourage all bl's to keep giving it their bests shot

❤️🧡💛bl ask game💚💙💜

#thank you again for the ask lovely #i always love an excuse to talk about my favourite things who doesnt #ask game

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cerastes · 2 years

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After watching you stream IS2 for a bit the other day, I took some of your advice and finally got my first ending 1 clear! I've been trying to get back there again, and I feel something might be wrong with my general strategy of "Get a big 6* and try to build a core around them". I don't have high hopes for getting ending 2, as my one clear that mostly revolved around +120ish ASPD Exu and Mudrock was mostly on luck and stacking the two Coin Op-alike relics I have unlocked. Do you have any advice on how to pivot to something more reliable and sustainable than "Make big thing hit hard/fast"?

First of all, congratulations on you clear! You now have [Theater Kid Money]!

Now:

"Get a big 6* and try to build a core around them" <- This is where you went wrong, Giorno Giovanna.

The following advice is applicable for all Roguelikes, actually, but it's very very useful in Crimson Solitaire: You're filling a check list.

Whenever you're playing a run of Crimson Solitaire (or any Roguelike, really!), your first few runs are recon, you're just finding out What It Did. Once you can answer the question "What Did It Do?" or in other words, you have a rough idea of what you'll encounter and what the end boss of your desired route will look like, you then go into Going For The Clear Mode.

What would the Lucian check list need? Let's do this together, ok?

Lucian, Blood Diamond check list:

The Scarlet Singer carousel to the right that starts seeping into the rest of the map -> They loop for quite a while, giving you plenty of time to kill them, and there's two tiles that let you place Marksmen/AA Snipers facing right to hit them. Check list item 1: 1 to 2 Marksman Snipers, or Thorns facing right, in other words, a way to whittle down and kill the Singers before they become an issue. These ALSO deal with the aerial units that come from the same direction!

Several low HP enemies come out quickly from the upper gates, with some higher bulk enemies in between. Check list item 2: A plug for the stream of enemies that comes from above. Frontliners, AoE Guards, Defenders, you name it, you need to be able to block and kill.

Upper left gate releases very strong Elite Armored Guards. Check list item 3: A way to hold and kill these elite mobs, so sustain and Arts damage.

Lucian's most dangerous attack is his Song, which deals wide AoE Physical damage and fills your Nervous Impairment gauge. Other enemies also deal Nervous Impairment. Check list item 4: AoE healing and a way to deal with NI, so Mulberry/Honeyberry and one other source of healing, like an AoE medic or Saria S2.

Lucian has Phys and Arts Dodge if he's not blocked, and has a Crownslayer ability to phase through units, on a cooldown. Check list item 5: Two strong brawlers to jail* Lucian, making him vulnerable to damage, as well as burst damage (a source of True damage would help as well, but being able to jail is far better). *A jail is when you place two units next to each other, facing each other, to trap phasers like Crownslayer or Lucian.

This is your basic needs for Lucian. Some units cover more than one need, for example, Saria S2 can block the Elite Armors AND provide AoE healing, and the same source of Arts damage for the Elite Armors can provide burst damage to deal with Lucian. What matters is, you have to build your composition with this in mind throughout the game, not just grab a big 6* and build around it, because in the end, even the most multiuse 6* won't do jack shit for you if you aren’t covering the needs of the map.

In other words, you must suit your team to the needs of the map and prepare as best as possible. In an ideal world, you can fill this list, but you likely won't have every ingredient. That's the beauty of Roguelikes! You have to improvise, adapt, and adjust depending on what you end up with. That's what it means to be a true warrior of likes and rogues.

In my latest VOD, I cleared with just 3 and 4 stars on the first try, because you don't need a six star to clear, you need to build your team with purpose and intent. Knowing how to build is half the game mode, the other is execution in gameplay. Lucian's check list is simple, for instance, Big Sad Lock and Mouthpiece's check lists are more complex. You also should account for dangerous maps on the way to the boss (no AA snipers on Drone Landing Zone? Say goodbye to Exodia).

So yeah, it's less about big number, more about smart use and accumulation of number.

#flusterfluff

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