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#and while i was playing it it felt very... wondrous?
foxstens · 2 years
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amazing how similar yet different these games are
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Hello! I was wondering, if you'd like, could you write a hc for Toshiro, Shinji and Shunsui (and if you'd like to add any other characters), dealing with a fem!reader who just won't confess her love, even though it's very obvious? It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer. I would love to see what you come up with! Thank you very much in advance! 💗
Bleach Men and Shy Reader
Hello! Sorry it took me a while to get to this! I'm always struggling to keep characterization accurate which is why this took forever. I love this request btw. So I just didn't get a HC feel for this because I felt like half the fun was in the dialogue of getting reader to confess. So I wrote scenarios instead. Hope you don't mind! ^_^' All fluff, slightly suggestive at places but mostly harmless.
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icons by @/pfpanimes and @/xoxomyseriesxoxo
Toshiro (aged up)
"Y/n, I think we're good. We got all the information we need."
Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he takes in their surroundings one last time. Their surveying mission had gone well and he was hoping to get back to Soul Society before the sun sets.
"Y/n...?"
He looks around, then his face turns into a look of exasperation as he sees you petting Hyorinmaru like a puppy. Even Hyorinamru seemed to be enjoying the attention, eyes closed, making a loud rumbling noise which he supposed could be comparable to a cat purring.
You were some distance away so he starts to walk over to you as you press your forehead against the large ice dragon's face. It was perplexing why Hyorinmaru behaved the way he did around you, but of course, zanpakuto were mainifestations of their owners. Hitsugaya's face relaxed slighty and took on a softer expression as you continued to play with Hyorinmaru. He was also uncomfortably aware of the way his heart beat a little faster when you were around. Perhaps that's why his zanpakuto behaved similarly.
You were cooing at the large blue dragon. "You're such a good boy. The best ice dwagon...yes..."
You press a kiss to Hyorinmaru's face. Softly, you then say, "I wonder if Hitsugaya taicho feels it when I kiss you..."
Hitsugaya freezes, wondering if he should say something. He didn't feel it, but wouldn't it be wondrous if he could?
"Y/n," he calls out, making you jump. Your face turns red, and you quickly try to compose yourself.
"Hitsugaya taicho! I apologize, I didn't hear you. Are we done with our mission?"
"Yes...I believe we are." He hesitates before saying, "What were you telling Hyorinmaru before?"
You feel your heart racing and try to brush off his question. "It's nothing! I was just being silly. He's a very sweet dragon."
"Yes, I suppose he can be..."
A moment of awkward silence passes between you both before you say, "We'd better get back to Soul Society huh?" Trying to pass over your awkward exchange, you slip past Hitsugaya and start walking back. Hyorinmaru vanishes a minute later as Hitsugaya follows you.
After a few minutes, Hitsugaya quietly says, "I can't feel it."
Your heart skips a beat. Surely you must have heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I can't feel it when you kiss Hyorinmaru."
A jolt of electricty runs through you. Had he heard that?! "Oh, well good. That would have been weird."
"Yeah I guess so...but...would it be a bad thing?"
"Would what be a bad thing?"
"If I could feel it."
You feel like your heart may leap out of your chest. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. "Well you can't so...I guess we'll never know!"
"I mean you could just tell me."
Your words catch in your throat. When you talk again, they come out shaky. "Tell you what?"
"If it's good or bad."
A very palpable, tense, moment lingers between both of you. All that can be heard is the rustling of your robes and your footsteps as the both of you continue to walk.
"I guess...it wouldn't be...too bad, right?" You offer.
"No, I don't think it would be." Hitsugaya looks directly at you. "Those words weren't meant for Hyorinmaru to hear excusively were they?"
You look away. "Well I wasn't saying it out loud intentionally if that's what you mean."
"What's the worst that could've happened? If you had said those words to me?"
"You may have gotten the wrong impression of me..."
"Wrong impression? So you don't like me?"
Well you had kind stepped right into that question. "I...I..."
Why was it so hard to admit your feelings? Your eyes squeeze shut.
"Hey, y/n. It's ok." Hitsugaya pats your shoulder reassuringly. "How about this? I'll bring out Hyorinmaru. You can tell him whatever you want. If that makes it easier."
You look at him with gratitude in your eyes. You knew you weren't getting out of this one until Hitsugaya had a satisfactory answer.
With a small swish of reiatsu, Hyorinmaru appears in front of you. You look into the striking blue eyes of the dragon, so similar to its owner, and take its face between your hands.
"Hey Hyorinmaru," you say softly. "So, I just wanted to say. I think I like someone, and he knows it. But...I'm scared to admit my feelings because...deep down...I feel like he's worthy of someone more talented and special. So if you have an answer to this, please let me know."
Warm hands wrap around your waist and to your surprise, Hitsugaya pulls you against him, resting his cheek on the back of your head.
"Is this enough for an answer?"
You take a deep breath, cheeks pink as a peach.
"Yeah. More than enough."
Shinji
You and Shinji trudged back to his quarters after a particularly tiring mission. It wasn't uncommon for you recuperate in his quarters because his place was simply the closest to the gate when getting back into the Seiretei. And after a long gruelling mission, questions about appropriateness get tossed out the window.
Your muscles ache and you feel your reiatsu pulse as you force yourself to walk. The comforting feeling of the courtyards near Shinji's quarters fill your senses.
"Not too far along now y/n. You can shower first this time."
You look at Shinji side eyed, remembering how the last time he'd hidden the soap when you had made a dash to the bathroom to shower first.
Clearly he was remembering it too because he smirks at you and says, "How about next time, you bring your own soap, you freeloader?"
"I'm a rookie shinigami, taicho. I hardly make enough to afford luxuries like soap." You respond sarcastically.
"You just wanna use mine because you like the way I smell. Admit it. You get off on having my scent on your skin." Shinji says teasingly, giving you a shit-eating grin.
The color rises in your face and you look away. It was true but you couldn't admit that. Instead you say, "As if. Like I enjoy smelling like your cheap deodarant."
"And how would you know my deodarant smells cheap? Have you been going through my toiletries y/n? Like some kind of pervert?" Shinji nudges you playfully.
"Why I might have to start hiding my boxers, in case I find you in my room sniffing around at night."
"Eeewww," you say, wrinkling your nose. You start to walk faster so that you're ahead of him, not wanting him to see how fantastically red your face is getting.
Chuckling, Shinji sprints after you, grabbing the back of your shihakusho, and bringing you to his side, arm draping possessively around your shoulders so that you can't move.
"Taicho," you say through gritted teeth. "What would happen if someone sees us this way? It's very unbecoming of a captain."
"Strange, I don't seem to recall you saying that whenever you crash at my place after a mission." Shinji stops walking and turns so that he's facing you, blocking your way, a hand on each of your shoulders.
You can't look at him now, and drop your gaze. "That's...different. I sleep in your spare bedroom. We both know that and would say the same. But this kind of behavior...out here in the open...someone might mistake us..."
"Mistake us how exactly?" Shinji presses, not relenting at the fact that you're barely able to keep your head up now. "Mistake us as...lovers?"
He drawls the last word and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart races and you can't seem to think of a comeback. He was so close to you and his hands were holding on tight.
"N-no," you stammer, trying to keep calm.
"No? What else could they mistake us for that's gotten you so red?" Shinji takes a step closer to you and grasps your chin, lifting you face up to look at his. Helpless, you look into his brown eyes which are looking at yours with amusement.
When you fail to reply, he continues. "There's plenty of reasons they could mistake us for lovers, y/n. I mean, we cuddle on the couch."
"That's because-"
"We've eaten together so many times I've lost count." He barrels over your objection. "Your toothbrush is in a cup on my bathroom counter. Do I need to keep giving you more examples about how unconventional our relationship is? It definitely isn't a captain-subordinate one anymore."
Caught, you try to jerk your face out of his grip which only tightens. "Well, doll? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're living with me, but you seem to be trying to convince yourself otherwise."
"I-that's-" you sputter, trying to retort. "How about the fact that we don't feel that way about each other? Doesn't that count for anything?" you say desperately, hoping for a final chance to keep your heart from getting hurt.
Shinji's expression changes from amusement to thoughfulness. "Don't feel that way about each other...hmm...so...why am I teasing you this way? Why do I allow you to cuddle up to me when we're watching TV? Why am I here, forcing you to look at me, and making my intentions known if I don't feel that way about you?"
Your heart skips a beat and you quit struggling. He couldn't possibly...?
"And why are you blushing so much when I say all this? Why haven't you stopped looking at my lips this whole time?" His voice becomes a soft timbre and his hands drop from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so resistant to what you're feeling towards me?"
Your chest swells with emotion as his words wash over you. For the longest time, you'd hidden your feelings, hoping he wouldn't notice. Because how embarrssing and cliche? A subordinate falling for her captain?
"I...may...like you as more...than my captain..." You admit grudgingly.
"There we go. Now was that so hard?" Shinji rests his thumbs on your cheeks, stroking gently. "For the record, I'm not playing around. I'm serious."
You peek up at him. "Promise?"
"Well...I'm not a fan of making promises I can't keep- OUCH!" Shinji lets out a yelp of pain as you shove him hard in the ribs before scurrying off towards his quarters.
Humbled, he quickly chases after you. "Y/n! I am dead serious! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"
When he hears you laughing, his eyes narrow.
"Very well then doll...I suppose I'll have to torture the confession out of you while hiding the soap again...maybe this time after you've gotten in the shower..."
Shunsui
Your eyes roam over the voluptous shinigami talking to Shunsui. He certainly seems to have a type. You sigh and try to focus on your own work. Being an aide to Shunsui has been insightful in terms of getting experience but also an eye-opening period where you would see how many women seem to sidle up to him for attention.
Shunsui chuckles at the woman before she saunters out, hips swaying. He fixes his hat and stretches, the neck of his shihakusho slipping down to reveal his toned pecs.
Such a slut you think to yourself as you try to finish your paperwork. Although, truth be told, you weren't sure if that was entirely true. Women went up to him all the time, sure. How many of those women made it back to his quarters was another question entirely. Not as many as people thought, according to Nanao.
Shunsui glances over at you, a cheeky smile widening over his face. "Enjoying the view?" he teases, as you suddenly flush, realizing you'd been staring shamelessly at his chest for the past minute.
"N-no," you stammer. "Just wondering how brazen you must be to have your shihakusho practically untied while in the office."
"Not as brazen as my subordinate who's been visually feeling me up," he shoots back with a wink.
You quickly look back to your paperwork. Was it your fault he was an attractive looking man for his age? You heart thuds in your chest and you take a deep breath to calm down. This does not go unnoticed by Kyoraku who puts his face on his palm, leaning on his desk looking at you.
"Let's get a drink tonight."
Surely you misheard him. "...What?"
"I know you heard me y/n." He chuckles, a rich, low, rumble emanating from his throat. "And based on what I've seen, I think you've imagined more than having a drink with me."
Your throat goes dry. "You got that...from a one-off look?" Your words come out like a croak.
"Well darling, you've been making eyes at me all evening. Thought I'd save you the trouble." He gets up from the desk and wanders over towards you.
Your brain goes into panic mode. "I-I can't. Busy today."
"Ah hm...I see." Shunsui says in that lazy way, getting closer to you. "Busy. So very busy. Tell me. What plans do you have tonight that you're too busy to get a drink with your captain?"
Your mind blanks out at his question. Seeing the look of disarray on your face, Shunsui offers you a sympathetic pat. "I can give you a minute if you need to come up with an excuse. Maybe pretend to watch the birds outside?"
Your cheeks burn at his suggestion. "Unnecessary. Clearly I don't have one. Apart from I don't want to."
"Now why's that? I like you, and you seem to return the feeling. I've been around long enough to know when a woman is interested in me. So what's the problem?"
"I'm your subordinate. And with your reputation I don't wish to be another statistic in your book."
"Statistic?" Shunsui looks at you with sharp eyes. "Darling, how many women do you think I've been with?"
"I don't know. 2000 years is a long time."
He looks stunned at your words then sighs deeply. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not thinking of making you a 'statistic'. I actually like you."
Your heart races. "Say that again."
"I like you. I'm not too proud to hide how I feel. Now how about you stop insulting me and admit you like me too?"
You take a deep breath. "I'll have a drink with you."
"Well that's a start I suppose."
"And tie up your damn shihakusho."
"And miss the chance to have you stare at me all night?" Shunsui's eyes glitter with mischief. "I think not."
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moremaybank · 8 months
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BACK FOR YOU — r.c
day four second chance with rafe cameron
pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary months after your failed long distance relationship, rafe begins to send you love letters in an attempt to win you back.
warnings one allusion to sex closer to the end, but nothing else. just a lil angst and hella fluff. oh, and some language.
author’s note hi my loves, i’d really appreciate if you read this because i haven’t written a piece like this in a very long time and i’m actually really proud of it ♡︎ thank you ily
obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; rafe masterlist
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Dear Y/N,
Hey. I know it’s been awhile, and I know that it’s weird — writing you like this. But something happened the other day, and I wanted to tell you about it. 
I was in the grocery store with Wheeze, picking up some cupcakes for her class bake sale because none of us actually know how to bake (which you know). When we got to the bakery section, I saw chocolate-covered strawberries, and I immediately thought of you. Remember how we used to go star-gazing? We’d pile the back of my pickup with pillows and those thick-ass, furry blankets from Costco, get all cozy, and you’d bring those chocolate-covered strawberries that you’d spent the day making just for me. You’d feed ‘em to me, grinning when I’d instantly chase your hand for another bite. And then afterward, you’d cuddle into me, and we’d just lay there, looking at the stars. You’d get this wondrous look in your eyes, like you’d never seen anything so beautiful. I had though. I got to look at you every day, and you beat the stars by a long shot.
Anyway, I ran into your mom at the club earlier. She told me that you were travelling, visiting every place you possibly could in Europe. Sounds like you. I bet you went to Greece first, you’ve had an obsession with it since you were fifteen. I know I always talked about taking you there. Who knows, maybe I still can. 
I miss you. Did I mention that? ‘Cause I do. I miss you all the time. 
Yours, 
Rafe
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Dear Y/N, 
You didn’t answer that last letter, and that’s fine. I understand why. I never said how sorry I was for everything that happened last year, never really explained. But I will now.
I’m so sorry for how I ended things. Every day, I woke up at school, far away from you. It ached me to not wake up to you. To not see you every second of the day. To not hold your hand or see you smile as soon as you saw me. 
I missed everything. The smell of your lavender shampoo. Your hands running through my hair when I was stressed. You’d always kiss the frown off my face and fix everything just by telling me you loved me. The nights you’d call me when you couldn’t sleep because you needed to hear my voice. That cute little giggle you’d do after you’d been laughing for awhile. The way you’d look at me when you told me you loved me. There wasn’t a single reminder of you that didn’t constantly play on a loop in my head, that didn’t buzz deep in my veins. But I felt such a large void in my heart without you around, and I thought that if I broke things off with you that it would go away. But in the months since then, it’s only grown. Only gotten worse. I don’t think I’ll ever survive losing you. 
I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you open it, and maybe decide to write me back. No pressure, though. 
Yours always,
Rafe
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Dear Y/N, 
I don’t know if you’re getting sick of these. I really hope you aren’t. I gotta admit, writing to you makes me feel like we’re still connected. I still think we are. At least, on my end, we are. 
Life’s been really crazy, lately. Ward’s getting ready to hand Cameron Development over to me. Every day he tells me that he hopes I won’t run the damn thing into the ground while he’s gone, travelling with Rose. I honestly don’t know why he would let me run things when he obviously doesn’t have an ounce of faith in me. You always told me that his love didn’t have to be earned, and I’ve always known that you were right, but it really feels like I’ll never have it. I wish you were here. You always make things better. 
Anyway, I’m on the road to Raleigh, and I can’t help but think about our crazy road trip last summer. We had no freakin’ clue where we were going, but honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with you. Your infectious laughter and your terrible singing along to All Too Well (the ten minute version, obviously) is what kept me going that entire drive. That, and when you’d shower me with kisses all over my cheek when you got bored. I loved that shit. 
I’ve been missing you like hell. I’ve already said this, but I really wish you were here. You’d make all this work worth it. ‘Cause, as of right now, I don’t really know why I’m doing all this. You aren’t here, and we don’t have the family we’d always dreamed about. Hopefully that changes in the near future. 
Yours (until my heart stops beating), 
Rafe
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Dear Y/N, 
A little birdie by the name of Sarah let it slip that you’ve been keeping my letters. Truth is, I sent her to spy on you.
Okay, I didn’t. But I had you for a sec, didn’t I? 
I only know you have them because I begged her for hours to tell me how you were doing, and if you talked about me. Even then, I had to bribe her by saying I’d babysit the kids for an entire weekend so her and John B could go on a couples getaway. Totally worth it. 
Oh, and they threw me a party at work. Apparently I beat out Ward for some record. I don’t even remember what it’s called now. I had so much cake that I went into a sugar coma. It was red velvet, cream cheese icing. Your favourite. That’s probably why I ate so much. You’d go back for it so many times that by the time you were full, I’d be finishing all the rest. 
You still haven’t written me back, but that’s alright. Do it when you’re ready. If you’re ready. Again, no pressure. 
Anyway, I’m sitting here on my couch watching Gilmore Girls. Yes, I finally got around to watching it. I know you begged me to for ages and we never actually got the chance to do it, but it popped up on my ‘recommended’ the other day and I decided to give it a try. You were right. This show’s freakin’ hilarious. I swear Lorelai Gilmore is the reason you were always so witty with me. She’s so quick on her feet, it blows my mind. Also, please tell me that Rory becomes enjoyable again. I miss her Chilton days. I miss her and Jess. Does he ever come back? And please tell me that Luke and Lorelai are endgame. I mean, the horoscope!!! The man waited eight years for her. People probably thought he was crazy for doing so, but I get it. I’d wait centuries if it meant I got to end up with you. 
Yours (until the end of time),
Rafe
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Dear Y/N, 
I’ve written you so many letters, I hope I’m not taking up too much space at your place. Hey, that rhymed. I should be a rapper. All right, I could never be a rapper. This is why I need you. You keep my delusional mind in check. 
The other day, I was on the ferry, riding over to the mainland, and when we reached, I swear I almost started driving to your house. Obviously, I didn’t. I chickened out. I thought about walking up to your doorstep, watching you open the door, and even dream-you was way too beautiful for me to handle. I almost gave myself a heart attack. One day, though, I’ll work up the courage. I wanna see you so badly, it’s killing me. 
Can I tell you something? I have this dream sometimes, more often than not. It takes place back when we were still in college. Instead of ending things between us, I drop everything and run to you. The journey takes all day long, but I don’t care. I make my way to you, and once I find you, I pull you into my arms and kiss the life out of you. You ask me what’s gotten into me, and I respond by saying that I never want to live without you. That being away from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, and that life isn’t worth living if I’m not by your side. I get down on one knee, pull out a big ass rock from my pocket, and ask you to marry me. And you say yes. Every. Damn. Time. 
The reason I’m saying all this is because I want to give you a fair warning. I’m going to make that happen someday. Sure, we aren’t in school anymore, and we aren’t even together right now, but I don’t care. We’re going to end up together. I know it, and you know it. I promise you, Y/N, I’m going to come back for you. And when I do, I’ll never leave you again. The only place I ever want to be is right by your side, in our huge house that I’m going to build for us, with our kids running around and chasing our dog. The house will smell like a bakery all the time because of your huge sweet tooth, and it’ll most likely be a mess because we won’t be able to keep up with our crazy ass kids. But we’ll be together. And we’ll stay that way until we’re all old and grey. And I might be pushing it by saying this, but I’ll still be taking you to bed every night, ‘cause I know in my heart that you’ll still be getting me all bricked up even in our nineties. Please don’t hate me for saying that. 
Yours forever,
Rafe
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You placed the last letter back into its envelope and added it to your large collection. Your heart warmed at Rafe’s declaration. You’d been rereading that one letter for a month now. You missed him terribly. You’d tried to write to him so many times, but each time you’d started, you just couldn’t go through with it. Your fear consumed you. You were petrified of the thought that once you opened yourself up again, Rafe would find another reason to leave you. You’d always known that it was hard for him to walk away from you, but it hurt you just the same. If not, more. 
Still, this was a side of him that you’d never seen before. He’d changed in the near year since you’d broken up. You could tell from the way he wrote to you. He’d never been as vulnerable and raw as he had been in those letters. He was bearing his soul to you, something he was always unable to truly do. There was always a small part of him that was closed off, even to you. But that part seemed to have vanished. 
Just as you placed the crate of letters back on your shelf, your doorbell rang. Your heart raced as you approached the door. You opened it, and there, finally, he stood.
Rafe slapped his hand to his heart. “God, I was right. Way too beautiful. Take it easy on me, would you?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you threw your arms around his neck and practically jumped into his arms. He returned your embrace quickly, squeezing you tightly and keeping you pressed to him as one hand cradled the back of your head. 
After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away, your tears clouding your vision. You opened your mouth to speak, but Rafe beat you to it.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I love you. I love you so much. I—”
You cut him off. “—Shut up and kiss me, fiancé.”
“Fiancé? Yeah? You wanna marry me?”
“Of course I do. You’re still mine, right?”
“Yours,” he confirmed, punctuating it with a kiss. “Always.” Kiss. “Until my heart stops beating.” Kiss. “Until the end of time.” Kiss.
He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he let out a content sigh. “Forever.” 
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RAFE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @surftrips @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @jjsbank444 @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @countryclubkook @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @slut4drudy @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @darleneslane @sya-skies @ellabellabus07 @emmalandry @madelynie @urbestieboo @cruzgrecia @l1lactheflower @rafegirly @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17 @obaex @abbybarnesstuff @mattyskies
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silveryclear · 9 months
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♟️Yandere Villain x Hero Reader part 1
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♟️ Male Yandere Villain X Female Hero Reader
♟️ CW: Smut build up, coercion, manipulation, implied kidnapping, obsessive behavior
♟️ 2.4 k words
You were a rookie superhero graced with the powers of flight, great strength, and agility. You also had a great heart and the motivation to help people. In less than a year, you had managed to capture the hearts of all the beloved citizens that lived in the city you grew up in. Your debut as a hero was nothing short of a success! People loved you, authorities respected you, and most of all, you managed to reduce crimes committed by supervillains by 60%! In honor of your heroic efforts, the city had organized a ball in your honor, a masquerade one to be exact. This gave you the perfect opportunity to enjoy the celebration without being in the center of attention. Ironic enough, you were never one to participate in places with large crowds. But the city had put in so much work for you, you couldn’t not attend.
The party was bustling by the time you arrived. Already was there a large crowd waltzing in the middle of the ballroom, the band playing wondrous music. Your eyes flit over the crowd, admiring each and every mask as well as their matching dresses and suits. People were talking, dancing, eating… just generally enjoying their night. And you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you, knowing that you’ve contributed to the safety and peace of mind of thousands of people. Although, a small, anxious part of you couldn’t be quelled so easily. You knew this is temporary, just a fleeting moment of tranquility before disaster strikes again. In your mind, this disaster takes the form of a person. A very evil person. One of the very cunning villains that have managed to wreak havoc for years without getting caught once.
Hades.
He has never shown his face, not once. The information the police have of him is virtually non existent, and the information that they do have are mostly rumors. But one thing is for certain: he has never has done any of the dirty work himself. He always has contacts, pawns, and a whole lot of power. A fitting name for someone who is considered “The King of the Underworld”. It is said that he just gazes from above (or below) at the chaos he has engineered, like it’s some twisted game of chess for him. And while you’re not one to ever back down from a fight, you can’t help but shiver at the thought of him taking you on as his new opponent. With all the attention you’ve garnered, your assumption isn’t far fetched.
However, you might’ve underestimated just how long this match had gone for.
And if you were even a player at all.
In the middle of your anxious thoughts, you felt a tap on your shoulder, promptly breaking you out of your inner turmoil. You quickly turn around and come face to face with piercing green eyes. Anything that you had meant to say died in your throat as soon as your eyes met his… and the rest of him. He stood tall, towering over you even with your 4 inch heels. He was also dressed to kill— wearing a black fitting suit with a black dress shirt with a few open buttons to show off his collar and part of his chest. The suit was lined up with green, intricate embellishments that matched his mask and complimented his eyes stunningly. His hair was neatly styled in twists and he even wore jewelry and smokey eyes that made his dark complexion glow. This man was drop dead gorgeous.
His lips broke out in a charming smile and you felt yourself get—metaphorically— shot in the heart.
“Are you alright? You’ve been staring off into space for a while…” The man spoke in a low, sultry voice that made your insides quiver.
You cough and chuckle nervously, flustered for being caught ogling this fine man like a creep. “Y-Yes! I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. I was… thinking about work.” You sputter, trying to find an excuse that wasn’t necessarily false.
He chuckles, still gazing at you with those magnetic eyes. “Ah, so that’s what had you twisting your beautiful face in worry. I was hoping that you would do me the honor of joining me for a dance? I think you could use a break from your worries, we are at the ball of the year, aren’t we?”
You can feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment and you feel nervous, but excited to dance with this alluring mystery man. You smile. “That, we are. A dance may be just what I need.”
He smiles back, stretching out his large hand for you to take. “May I?”
You place your hand in his, his palm smooth, as opposed to yours that has been calloused from all your training and hero work. Fingers brush against the palm of your hand and he smiles kindly. “Indeed, the hands of hard working woman.” He says before bringing your hand towards his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as the looks firmly into your eyes. Your face heats up once again and you can’t bring yourself to look away.
This goes beyond what you expected from this ball.
The man pulls you the dance floor in the center of the ballroom, holding your hand and hip as you glided on the dance floor along with the music.
“How are you feeling now? I hope I’m doing a good job at keeping those thoughts away.” He smiles and twirls you around and brings you back into his arms.
You giggle, actually allowing yourself to enjoy the party that was meant for you. “I’m actually having fun. I don’t particularly like being around large crowds, but you’ve made it enjoyable. Thank you.” You give him a genuine smile.
You swore you saw something dark, something primal flash in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “Not a fan of crowds, huh? Can’t say I’m fond of them either. I work remotely so these are the only moments where I engage with the masses.”
“Lucky.” You mutter playfully.
He laughs, a deep, melodic sound that made your heart race. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, if I hadn’t crawled out of my cave tonight, I wouldn’t have met you~” He gives you a twirl and pulls you closer, stepping back in sync.
Damn. He’s smooth.
“Besides, how could I pass up the chance of dancing with the city’s greatest hero without interruption~?”
Your step falters and stumble backwards, bracing yourself for a fall that never comes. Instead, you’re held by the mysterious man who has made the fall into a dip, making it seem part of the dance. He smiles coyly. “Did I say something wrong?”
You’re pulled back up and you feel that same sinking sensation that you had earlier. You compose yourself and clear your throat. “How did you know it was me?”
“Oh, I’m something of a fanboy. I could recognize you in a heartbeat.” He smiles, yet, it doesn’t comfort you.
“Everyone here is a fan, yet you’re the only one who recognized me.” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.
You can feel him pull you closer, your bodies close enough to feel his quickened heartbeat. You could only make sure your steps were in sync as you looked over his shoulder. He places one hand on your back, his fingers running down your spine and kept a firm grip on your hip. You shiver, not sure if it’s from delight or fear. His lips suddenly hover above your ear as he whispers, “True, but I’m your biggest fan~”
You sense a change in his demeanor, although subtle, you learned to catch these subtleties from your experience fighting villains. However, it wasn’t enough to detect this one fast enough.
You take a sharp breath. “Who are you?”
He twirls you again and brings you face to face with him. He grins devilishly. “What does your gut say~?”
You breathing becomes ragged and you feel your blood run cold as your worst fears had come to life.
You just danced and flirted with the devil himself.
You try to pull away from him but he makes sure to keep a tight hold on you while still maintaining the facade of dancing.
"Now, now, the dance isn't over and we can't have our Great Hero looking too out of sorts. No one would know the city is safe and in good hands if they see you panicking on the dance floor. And who knows what I just might do if that were to happen." Your eyes widen and Hades laughs darkly as he continues to dance with you in close proximity, his eyes lingering on the features of your face and the shape of your body. "I was worried you wouldn’t have recognize me at all. I've always wanted to dance with you, Hero."
Your body trembles and your breathing grows erratic. You can feel his hold loosening slightly and his hand rub your back comfortingly as he whispers soothing words into your ear. “That’s it, baby… just breathe…” For your sake, you forget who the words are coming from as you focus on your breathing.
Once you feel calm, you grit your teeth. And scowl at him. “Do you get a kick out of making me look like a fool?”
Hades hums and grins devilishly. "I do, especially when getting the satisfaction of knowing I fooled the city's hero into dancing and flirting with me. Fitting for the one responsible for all my misery."
He continues holding you close to his chest and brings his face inches from your face with a wicked laugh. He gets even closer so when he speaks you feel his breath on your ear. “But I will be honest, dancing with you, feeling your body pressed against mine, seeing you flustered up close… fills me with another type of type of satisfaction~”
You glare at him as you keep dancing. You pretend everything is fine as to not arouse any suspicion from the rest of the crowd. “What do you want?”
Hades laughs wickedly, his dark green eyes shining in the dim lights of the dance floor. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He then puts a hand on your hip and grips tightly, bringing you closer. “I came to collect my prize~”
You furrow your eyebrows and look over at him, confused. “What are you talking about? What prize?”
Hades grins, finding your confusion amusing. “Why, you, of course~” He caresses your face gently as if handling a work of art. His eyes roam your body hungrily. “And you are all wrapped up and pretty for me too~”
You swat his hand away and scowl. “You must be out of your damn mind if you think for a second that I’d go anywhere with you.”
His grin only turns more sinister as he grabs your face tightly and pulls you face to face. Your eyes widen and you feel your body begin to tremble again. “I think it‘ll do you well to learn some manners. Especially when you, dear Hero, are mine.”
“I don’t owe you anything, you brute!” You growl at him. Even in your position, you will never submit to a villain.
He chuckles darkly and his grip on your face tightens. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my darling Hero. You owe me everything.”
Hades stares at your confused expression with amusement. The grip on your face disappears and he returns to dancing with you as if nothing had happened. His piercing green eyes stare back at yours, demanding your attention. “You see, little hero, I have powers beyond your comprehension, superpowers and earthly powers alike. I control every single person inside and out of this building.” He grips your hip and pulls you closer, grinning madly. “I have your beloved city under my thumb.”
With every word he utters, the feeing of dread and fear continues to build up in the pit of your stomach.
Hades twirls you and brings you back towards him, your steps out of sync, but he manages to dance through it quite proficiently. “Do you know what that means?” He whispers, breath fanning your face gently. “Do you understand what I’m trying to imply?”
You stare back at him, holding his gaze as you nod.
He grins widely. “Tell me.” He demands with a smooth voice.
You take a sharp breath. “I-I became a hero… because of you.” As you said it out loud you felt the feeling helplessness slowly latch onto you— breaking you. Behind the words you uttered, lies a hidden truth: For every great source of good in the world, there’s an even greater source of darkness pulling it’s strings.
“Good girl~” He coos and pinches your cheek. “Such a good girl. Did you really think it was that easy to become a hero? You never questioned why everything went so smoothly.” He chuckles and caresses your cheek softly. “That’s how I knew you’d make the perfect toy for me to sway the masses~”
You feel like you’re about to throw up. Tears brim your eyes and you bite your lip to hold back a sob.
Hades’s face softens slightly as he pulls you into his chest and rubs your back soothingly. “Don’t cry, little hero. I know your little fantasy world collapsed— But I’ll help you see the beauty in the world I’ve created. After all,”
He leans back and grabs your chin. “I created it just for you~”
Hades pulls you into a hot, sensual kiss— groaning once his lips touched yours, deepening the kiss, delving his tongue into your warm mouth and tasting you. His kiss only grew with intensity once he finally got a taste of you after craving you all night. You can only stand there and take it as if you feel an incredible force keeping you from leaving.
Hades pulls away from the kiss and your breath hitches once you gaze into his eyes. The lust and possessiveness that he had restrained during the evening now emanated from him in waves. His breathing is ragged and his pupils are dilated. The feeling of dread you felt before was nothing compared to what you’re feeling right now.
He pulls you close, holding you tightly against his body, like a viper wrapping its coils around their prey. Hades whispers seductively, “You are mine, little hero. And I’ll make sure to show you tonight just how much I crave you.”
You overestimated your role in this game. You were never a player. Just like everyone else, you are just another piece in a game of chess you weren’t even aware was happening . And you were his final piece to acquire.
Just like that, you were his. As you were always meant to be.
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wheels-of-despair · 1 year
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Fucking Fireworks Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. Contains: Angst, panic attack, me torturing this sweet boy just so I can comfort him like the wicked witch I am. Word Count: 1.5k-ish
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Fucking fireworks.
You've always hated them. They're loud, they're obnoxious, they're a waste of money. If you buy fireworks, you're basically just setting your money on fire for a few seconds of sparks.
In the past, you'd tolerated them because Eddie loved them. They were loud, they were obnoxious, they were free entertainment because they were everywhere.
Last Fourth of July, you'd brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons up to the roof and occasionally fed each other until the show began. Yeah, yeah, you two are so in love it's disgusting, you're aware.
Last New Year's Eve, you'd huddled with him under a blanket and kissed when his watch beeped at midnight, then laid your head on his shoulder and watched the fireworks from a distance.
But that was before.
Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore.
He won't talk about it, but you see him flinch when a light bulb flickers or a barely-running car turns the corner while riding their squeaky brakes. He buries his face in your neck and squeezes his eyes shut during thunderstorms. He froze when some idiot kids set off a few firecrackers nearby on Halloween.
New Year's Eve was going to be a challenge. Trying to shield him from the fireworks without him knowing what you were doing was going to be a bigger one. You're familiar with the snap of "I'm not a fucking baby!" But he is. He's yours.
The snow worked in your favor. Too dangerous to get on a roof covered in snow, you could slip and break something. Too cold to go anywhere. You'd suggest staying home where it's warm and trying to sync Metallica's Ride the Lightning album with the countdown, so that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" would begin when the clock strikes 12. A genius idea that your sweet metalhead wouldn't be able to refuse.
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He went for it.
You'd gone to Family Video and brought home a pile of his favorite movies to watch that evening, along with a case of beer, a bag full of snacks, and a pizza. At midnight, it would be just the two of you and the greatest album ever recorded. Loud. Very loud.
You'd timed everything almost perfectly.
The two of you had finished off an entire pizza and nearly half the snacks by the time the last movie ended at 11:27. You were scheduled to press play on Ride the Lightning at 11:48, so you even had a few minutes to clean up.
It was a great plan… until it wasn't.
At 11:43, while you were washing the last dirty dish, the power went out with a pop.
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"Eds?"
Silence. He was on the couch a minute ago.
You fumbled blindly for the flashlight in the junk drawer, letting out a shaky sigh when your hand finally closed around it. You clicked the button and felt a flood of relief when it illuminated the kitchen. Pointing the flashlight at the floor, you made you way over to Eddie.
He was frozen in place on the couch, hands clutching at his sweatpants in a white-knuckle grip.
"Eddie? Are you okay?" you ask softly, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to shine the light in his eyes. He doesn't respond.
You envied the people in movies, who always made this look so easy. There's nothing easy about it. You feel helpless, because all you want to do is take care of him, and you don't know how. There's no guide book called How to Recover from Nearly Dying in an Alternate Dimension. Maybe you'd talk to Nancy about writing one next year.
Okay, what caused this? The dark. How do we fix it? More light. You suddenly remember a camping lantern that should be in the hall closet. "I'll be right back, Eds," you say with an eerily convincing calmness, considering the panic you felt inside. You lay the flashlight on the coffee table in front of him and angle it toward the hall.
Miraculously, the lantern is not only where it belongs, but it has batteries in it. This wondrous little contraption, received as a Christmas present last year and immediately banished to a cluttered closet, filled the small room with light. You brought it back to the couch, sitting in front of Eddie once more. "Eds?"
He blinked. Blinking is good. You slowly extend your right hand, palm up, toward him. He stares at it, and after a moment, releases a hand from the death grip on his pants and places it in yours. You exhale for the first time in what felt like hours.
"It's just your standard, run-of-the-mill, Hawkins-Sucks power outage, babe. It's okay. You're okay," you say with a smile you hope looks comforting. He's breathing normally, but his eyes are still stuck in a blank stare. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of his hand.
A few minutes pass, and you move a little closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in yours. You can see a little color coming back into his face, courtesy of the greatest Christmas present anyone has ever received. You can also feel the inside temperature beginning to drop from the lack of heat.
"Eddie? You with me?" You squeeze his hand, and his eyes finally meet yours. There he is. Your face breaks into a grateful smile.
"It's getting cold. What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows for effect. He gives you half a smile, and you feel warmth surge through your whole body. He's back. He's okay.
You hand him the flashlight and slowly rise with the lantern, still not letting go of his hand, and lead him toward the bedroom. You stop at the junk drawer again, shoving extra batteries into your pocket, just in case.
You're both in sweats already, so all you need to do is get him into bed and keep him occupied until the power comes back on. You reach for Eddie's flashlight before he crawls into bed. You switch it off, placing it on the bedside table near the still-lit lantern and spare batteries, and climb in to face him. The lantern fills the room with a comforting glow, the pile of blankets you're under is quickly warming up, you can handle this. You give him a reassuring smile and reach over to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.
And then the fucking fireworks start.
His body tenses. His eyes widen. You are going to calm him down, and then you're going to go murder everyone who's doing this to him.
"Eddie. EDDIE. It's just fireworks. It's a new year. It's just people celebrating." He doesn't blink. He doesn't move.
What caused this? The noise. How do we fix it? Drown it out with more noise. Why can't we do that? Because the Hawkins power grid is a piece of shit. How else can we fix it? Think, idiot, think… if we can't drown it out with noise, maybe we can drown it out with silence.
"C'mere, baby." You roll from your side to your back and extend an arm, drawing him to you. You're a little surprised, but thankful, when he lets you guide his head to your chest. Your right arm wraps around his back, your left palm presses firmly to his ear to help drown out the sound. You hold him tight, because you don't know what else to do.
He seems to relax after a few minutes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your right hand begins moving up and down his back, and you press a kiss to the top of his head before resting your cheek against his fluffy locks. You'll stay in this position all night if you have to.
After what feels like an eternity, the crackles and hisses and pops begin to die down. You begin counting when you think you've heard the last of it, not daring to move until you get to 100. You have to restart the count four times before you're finally able to get there, hoping that whoever was supplying this endless exploding nightmare would blow a hand or a dick off. Finally, it's over.
You move your hand off his ear. Is he asleep? His breathing is steady and he hasn't moved in a while. A few seconds pass before his hand finds yours… and moves it back to his ear. You bite back a chuckle and squeeze him, kissing the top of his head again. He groans sleepily and nuzzles into your chest. He's still here. He's okay.
No thanks to those fucking fireworks.
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yenqa · 1 year
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NEW ROMANTICS!
synopsis : y/n continuously struggles to contain her growing feelings for her crush (and longtime friend), lee heeseung.
003 : invisible string
wc : 0.6k
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"y/n! come down!"
you hurriedly grab your purse, rushing down the stairs to be greeted with heeseung’s shy smile, while your mother is smiling brightly at him.
"you two have grown so much! i remember when you guys where this short in middle school!" she points to her shoulder, you both exchange awkward glances at each other, nodding slightly.
"we’ve got to get going ms. nam! it was nice talking with you," heeseung slightly bows to your mom as you wave goodbye and head to the car.
"you know you don’t have to talk to my mom every time, right? you can just tell me to come out."
he chuckles, a slight rasp in his voice, when he says, "it’s no problem really, plus it’s nice knowing she likes me already."
you nod, giving him a small smile.
your comfortable silence is slightly taken over by the soft guitar strums of a song you recognize immediately.
"since when did you have taylor swift in your playlist?"
he looks over to you, "i didn’t know any songs by her until you introduced me to this song. it’s your favorite song on the album, right?"
your eyes widen slightly, "yeah! it is! how did you know? i didn’t directly tell you did i?"
he shakes his head, "you always hum this song when we’re doing homework together, you also always play it at least twice when we share headphones."
"oh."
heeseung lets out a breathy laugh, putting his full attention to the road.
looking at his small smile and doe eyes you slightly smile. noticing his small head nods to the calming tune.
you turn your head outside the window to see the busy city opposite of the quiet atmosphere in the car. it’s filled with huge buildings, you quickly spot the new book store. it’s light color making it eye catching in between the tinted glass covered buildings.
the inside has a home-y feeling, the shelves slightly taller than you filled the room. though new, it was surprisingly empty, with just a few other parties looking around. rows and rows of book shelves excite you slightly. you grab heeseung’s hand, dragging him to the desired genre.
he happily follows quickly looking at the books before watching you, excitingly talk about the books you’ve already read or want to read.
he doesn’t mind holding the books you’ve been  wanting to buy (in fact he took the initiative to hold them himself).
after your "hundredth" round of looking at the books (said by heeseung but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit), you both decide it’s best to eat dinner then.
the walk is a short five minutes from the bookstore. you both happily agree to katsu-chicken to eat.
you’re quickly sat down to a booth near the window, with a perfect view of the sunset.
"heeseung?" you call, he looks up from his chicken, slightly tilting his head.
"do you even like reading?"
he chokes on his food slightly "not really." he answers, continuing his initial bite.
"then why did you come to the bookstore with me?"
he shrugs, "what? can’t i spend time with the most wondrous person ever?"
it’s obviously a very sarcastic comment, but your heart can’t help but flutter at the words.
"i am pretty wonderful," you answer, and you both laugh at each others antics. finishing the food on your plates.
the drive home is short, with the roads seeming empty because of the dark hours of the night.
he drops you off at your house, with a happy "see you at school!" before driving off, leaving you watching his car grow smaller and smaller as each second passes.
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back masterlist next
☆ YENQA < i was going to make the song playing new romantics but i felt like it didnt feel like the right vibe for it (also its too early to reference the title)
taglist : @viyqe @luvistqrzzz @ifearjwn @tinydeerwasteland @enhastolemyheart @wannabeyn @zuyairus @bunnystrm @yeokii @weoris @ghostiiess @haerinsluvr @flwrshee @theskzvibe @viagumi @heesluvrgirl @hoonvrs @kpopstanmeg @harryedwardtris @ixomiyu @txtbrainrot @xrvrqs @haechansbbg @kimipxl @alkjsdfgg
italics = can’t tag!
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candiedspit · 7 months
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Banana Daiquiri
It was summertime; hot tango and swedish malt. 
I was twenty five, a lonely space cadet with no return mission. I floated through the mist of pristine, magic light. I wore a cocktail dress to the corner store because I could. Artificial diamonds shuddered on my wrist while a thousand hot words licked the walls of my mind every single second. I was very alive most days. 
For work, I took care of Gem, a bright seven year old whose favorite color was a carcinogenic green. The kid was mute. And in lieu of a proper schedule–some of the families I’d worked for before treated their children as hostages to time, every hour had a name–I was given the simple task of entertaining Gem until her parents got home from work. 
This meant long walks to the playground, afternoon movies, aquariums, library trips. I liked Gem. Her long sheet of blonde hair which ran down to her stomach and flew in the wind. Her penchant for worms and dirt. I could tell she knew more than I did, picked up on the subtle tones of the universe.
Each morning, I picked her up from her house and we headed out. Out to the avenues. Out to run out fingers along the brisk voltage of morning. Out to the world. It was the third week of June. It had been raining on and off for several days. But at last, the skies were clear and the sun was beautiful, dazzling rays falling to the ground. Gem held my hand. 
Gem, it’s a wondrous morning, I said as we walked. 
I held her backpack on my shoulder. 
It’s the kind of morning you could weep over, I continued. 
The kind you dream about when you’ve been inside for too long, marinating in all of your perceived misery piss. The kind you didn’t think you’d ever see again. But here it is. 
I love the summers most because every horrible thing you did in the winter is gone. Every tantrum. Every snarl. Every shard of glass. Gone, gone, gone.
Eleven blocks. 
We walked until we reached Gem’s favorite park, the one with the long, twisted slide and sprinklers and swings. Gem let go of my hand and ran to the swings. I sat down on a bench and drank from my water bottle. After this, we’d go to get lunch. Strawberry ice cream. Soda, sandwiches sliced down the middle. And then maybe we’d saunter down the boardwalk and play some of the games they have there. 
I’ve always gotten along well with kids. I think I understand them. The bossa nova of the world, each little thrill and dissapointment. How you can feel gladness singe your fingertips. How the sun shines for the first time every time. 
How confusing the grown ups are. 
After work, I usually went to my favorite bar or called the man I’m seeing. Or both at once. It depended on how tired I was, how long the day had been. That evening, I went to the bar. On third street, it was a run-down bar that never had more than twenty occupants. I sat at the bar and ordered my usual; a banana daiquiri. The bartend asked how my day was. I said it was fine and left the conversation at that. I watched the small television above his head. A newscast about the bombings in Turkey and gasoline prices. All things that didn’t touch me. The universe only existed as I could see it. I got one more drink, paid and left. 
On my walk back home, the skies were bloodied and vicious and beautiful. Clouds ate at one another like twins in the womb. I was wearing a long blue dress. I felt like taking off my skin. I wanted the wind. I wanted everyone to love me. The buildings seemed enormous, metallic titans left to rot in the ground after some fantastic war. I was living in the land of zero, the peace spread across the land like a woman on a bed. 
I got home too soon. 
Gem stopped speaking at around three years old. 
It was January and outside, snow filled the gaps of the city like glue. It dawned upon her parents as syrup spreads across the table–the silence. No babbles through the hallways. No requests for sippy cup. No mama. When her mother would urge her to speak, she would look into her face with her insect green eyes, and then look away. Gem’s pediatrician said she would grow back into speech. Had something happened? 
Nothing happened, her mother said. Nothing has happened. 
Gem had always concerned her parents. During holidays–out on the white, dense beach in Spain or with her many spritely cousins at Christmas–Gem preferred to play alone. She could never look at the camera when pictures were taken. And she had this–her parents called it a habit–habit of doing a sort of kangaroo hop when she was excited or nervous or anything at all. Sometimes she wringed her fingers in and out of crooked fists. 
 But the speaking was different. When Gem’s mother told me, she couldn’t stop herself from getting choked up. 
It was like we lost her, she said. Whatever stupid hope I had that she was simply an eccentric kid, that I was the idiot for not understanding the way she saw the world, was killed. And replaced with the fact that we had something on our hands we weren’t prepared for. 
When they finally got the diagnosis, Gem was five. 
Often in these cases, early intervention was key; but also, girls were typically diagnosed later than boys. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And what mattered was what her parents were going to do next. Therapists moved in and out of the house like business men on a train. Occupational, speech, physical. 
But in the summertime, she didn’t have access to therapists. All she had was me and our little ventures into the world. I hoped I was doing good by Gem. That sunflower kid. That cartoon heart. All I could do was try to guide, be her compass in a dark terrain. 
I liked living two lives. 
One where I filled in the gaps and another where I fell through them. 
Sometimes, I have strange thoughts, I told him. 
I was in the bed of the man I loved. And I was sure he loved me too. At least, at that moment. He was five years older than I was. But he was fun to be with. I liked spilling out in the dark with him. I liked his giant hands over mine. I liked surprising him.  
What kinda thoughts? He asked. 
I know what other people are thinking. I know what everything means. There’s an ultraviolet shimmer to the world and I can see through it, I said. 
It’s hard to explain, I continued. Happy neons. Dark, frustrated movements. An elevator dropping to the basement. How do you explain a yard to a kid kept in the attic? 
You’re a freak, he laughed and kissed my head. 
He didn’t understand. 
I sat out on his balcony–he was one of those people who had balconies but never used them–at the end of a gigantic, African cigar; one of his favorite pastimes besides television. And me. It tasted like midnight, a rough kind of bark. Ash. I liked letting the smoke out so that it floated above the city like a warning of sorts. Beware, there are people who say they love you and don’t. Beware, there are peep holes even in Heaven. I was high on a pill he’d slipped into my mouth, something small and pink. In combination with the tar and the night air and the fact that I was naked, I felt like a kerosene bomb. I felt like a laughing serpent. A dirty thrill. I began to speak out loud, beneath my breath so that nobody could hear me. 
Not anyone besides you. 
There aren’t many people like us, I began. Not everyone can see the mess, the vomit and slashes of graffiti and stray dogs and doom, and smile. Not everyone can see that there are fairgrounds in a warzone. Not everyone can touch the music. Not everyone can hear the light from miles away. But we can, Gem. I think we are gods.
I think we are poets.
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yangsharperavery · 11 months
Text
my non carmy/sydney thoughts on season 2
it's very different than the first which is interesting bc the structure they had in the kitchen last season worked so seamlessly.
i think this season was lacking that frequency and flare. i think because of that it suffered a bit. i think the viewership did too for that reason.
it was nearly impossible to recreate the magic of the first season without the constant buzz and intensity and immediacy of food service.
i do think that they still could have retained some of that energy by incorporating more demo/planning/training via the familiar staccato, regimented and frenetic pacing of the scenes WHILE also showing the more slowed down exploration of each character being pulled away to get the skills needed to advance the team and its mission.
but it's like they slowed the story telling all the way down immediately.
even opening with marcus and his ailing mother felt like such a specific and poignant choice in that vein.
almost like the theme of the season was going to be all types of grief, preemptive and reactive.
i think they dropped the ball having everyone so spread out over the course of the ENTIRE season and not making the ones that were together exist in the heightened energy we're used to from this show.
here are some things i loved about it:
•  richie's growth. i love an asshole character that is held to account, actually takes correction and impact and works to evolve and improve.
• marcus in copenhagen. he's so sweet and demure. i loved him getting the one on one attention. him exploring the city and staying on the boat. i was worried he'd be forgotten about in the story so its nice to see that someone bts fought for that not to happen.
• sydney's chicago food tour. the cinematography was STUNNING during these sequences. i read someone say that those moments felt like such a deliberate love letter to the culinary industry and i wholeheartedly agree like it made me SO happy to see.
•  the christmas bottle episode. listen. LISTEN. if you have ever lived in or been subjected to a nuclear family/household that operated like that, i know you watched that entire episode with a pit in your stomach. it was devastating and poetic and maddening and SO deeply fucking impactful. it painted the perfect picture of exactly why michael, natalie and carmy are the way they are. i SOBBED. and i lightweight think that's the episode that's giving this season such critical acclaim and the 100% on rotten tomatoes. it was SO strong and sooooo deeply harrowing.
• natalie's presence. i love her. just her being around was so comforting to to me. i enjoyed how sweet she was to fak.
• tina singing. they still underused her but i loved seeing her shine outside of her element and having the full support of her classmates. i love confidence baring moments for characters who've struggled, felt second or been ignored. that moment and sydney asking her to be sous were so special!
• the “bears are aggressive but sensitive, compassionate, deeply empathic” line. i've thought about it several times since finishing the season. because wow. also richie's dialogue about purpose. olivia coleman's character's conversation with richie about rebirth and timing. there are so many gorgeous lines that speak to the ingrained grief, brevity, import, ability and power of this human experience and all its many facets. the writer's really do SUCH a wondrous job highlighting the humanity of it's characters and their struggles, obstacles and heartache.
• the fucking chocolate banana. i absolutely CRIED. they need to stop playing around and calling this show a comedy because c'mon. that was such a good callback for cisero and richie.
•  pete crying. when i tell you that shit was so deeply powerful. to see him hurting so acutely for natalie. knowing how much he loves her and how much her mother's conditions impacted her entire life. so much so that she hadn't even known nat was pregnant. like that scene GUTTED me. the actor only had .3 scenes this season but that one was an absolute stand out.
• ayo's performance. this girl is an ACTOR. like i know she's a writer and a comedian but she is SO exquisite in the role of sydney. i'm endlessly enamored.
what i didn't like:
• them completely dropping the ball on ebra's storyline. so he disappears for WEEKS from fear and then returns and has a 3 second convo with tina? and then is all of a sudden back in an apron in the kitchen. please don't piss me off. wasteful.
• lack of gary screentime. he should have had as much screentime as fak minus the christmas episode. sidelining two of the black men was foolish and wholly unnecessary.
• the AMOUNT of claire/carmy scenes. like i totally get it. i get why it had to happen, i get the point they were trying to make and the consequences they were driving home but the sheer enormity of the claire/carmy scenes and how LONG they were was dumb. we could have been shown carmy was distracted/absent without having to see those two together for these elongated ass scenes. and them kissing in front of the fireworks? like GAG me. PLEASE BE SERIOUS RN.
• i need to see my babies breaking bread and having found family dinner at least once per season, if not more. thx.
this is just part 1, part 2 will be carmy/sydney focused.
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Text
inkpot gods
Pairing: Jaskier x Reader
Warnings: reader kills four people, a little graphic, reader and jaskier both get injured
Words: 5.3K
A/N: hi!! i rlly hope this fic like . makes sense?? it's four in the morning and i couldn't get this idea out of my mind but i hope the jumping around isn't too disorienting
Oh what, these? These aren't tears
It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall
You tried to calm the tears streaming down your face when you heard Jaskier approaching, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand when his footsteps stopped just beside you. Shifting your weight so you sat facing away from him, you blinked back the tears that continued to threaten to spill.
“There you are,” His voice was gentle, already noticing something was wrong. Despite his boisterous personality, he was always able to tell when to take a more tender spirit. “Everything alright?”
You nodded, still refusing to look at him knowing full well your eyes would give you away.
“Love,” Jaskier took a careful seat beside you, gingerly placing a hand on your knee. You couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at your lips from the pet name he used. Jaskier rarely called you by your own name, opting towards more poetic and affectionate names. While neither of you had taken the step towards anything official, it wasn’t hard to see how close the two of you had gotten.
“I’m fine.” You insisted, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.
“You don’t have to be, you know.” He said, staring at the view ahead of the both of you. Before you stood a wondrous mountain view, something worthy of one of Jaskier’s songs, especially with the sunset painting the sky with deep oranges and reds.
There was a beat of silence before Jaskier spoke again.
“Think of your tears as the rain.” Your brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. “Your tears are just the rain that wasn’t brave enough to fall.”
“Is this some piece from a song you’re writing?” You ask, wiping away the fresh tears that were now streaming down your face.
He laughed, moving his hand from your knee to rest over your shoulders. “I’m trying to say that there’s strength in crying.” Now risking a glance towards you, his eyes softened at the tears glistening in your eyes.
“I don’t feel very strong.” You responded, voice hoarse.
“But you are.” When you didn’t say anything, Jaskier pulled you closer, the comfort of his embrace making you sigh in relief. “You’re stronger than you know.
And what they hear isn't laughter after all
It's just your voice learning for once to stand up tall
Your laughter rang through the crowded tavern, music to Jaskier’s ears. He’d made some offhand comment about Geralt’s hair that you could no longer unsee, looking back at the witcher who had been grabbing a fresh ale before you turned back to the bard before you.
“Your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” Jaskier said, his voice so soft you felt your heart swell in your chest. He looked at you as if you held the stars in your eyes, the smile on his face was contagious.
“After all these exhausting days, it’s nice to laugh again.” You said, leaning back in your seat, visibly relaxing.
“It’s like a breath of fresh air. Like,” Jaskier sat forward, reaching to you to put his hands over yours. “There’s this cruel world that wants nothing more than to break us down, and in spite of it, we continue to laugh, we’re still grateful for the fortune we have!”
“In spite of everything we’ve gone through, we can still hole up in a tavern and I can listen to you play music until the sun sets.” You continued, his eyes lighting up at your words.
“Well, I have people to entertain, dear heart,” Jaskier said, grinning from ear to ear. “That does include you.” His thumb rubbed over your hand, a movement you weren’t entirely sure he was even aware of.
By the time Geralt had rejoined the table, your face hurt from how much you were smiling. Jaskier had a keen ability to keep your mood up even in the worst conditions. With his infectious laughter and poetic pep talks, you knew you always had a light in your life to keep you going.
And when the rain came down
When Jaskier found you laying in the mud, rain pouring down over the both of you, he screamed for Geralt louder than he’d ever screamed in his life. You were unconscious, the blood from a cut on your head running down your face, mixing with the rainwater.
Geralt was too far off from the group to defend them when a monster stumbled across the two of you. In your attempt to get it away from Jaskier, you ran off the beaten path deeper into the forest.
He lost you in the downpour, barely being able to see two feet in front of him. Despite the ever-present danger of the monster that had been there only moments ago, Jaskier stumbled blindly through the woods until he found you.
“Geralt!” His voice was hoarse from yelling, desperate for his friend to hear him.
Jaskier knew the importance of timing, and he used all his strength to pull you back to the path, barely registering Geralt’s thundering footsteps that grew louder by the second.
“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice went in one ear and out the other, with Jaskier continuing to bring your limp body through the woods, muttering pleas under his breath.
He only stopped when Geralt placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the witcher with glassy eyes.
“You have to help her.” He begged, barely holding it together.
Without another word, Geralt bent down to pick you up, lifting you with ease. Jaskier trailed behind him, squinting to see ahead of him through the dense rain while Geralt brought you to a safe and dry location to fix you up.
Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Geralt was moving quickly, trying to get through the forest to the inn you were all staying at for the night, glancing down at the blood running down your face every few seconds.
I made a vow out to the dark
Please let her live just one more day
For the first time in Jaskier’s life, he prayed.
He sat by your bedside, praying to any god that could hear him, anyone that was listening, to do something to help you.
You lay before him, a blanket covering you. Geralt was off on the other side of the room, concocting a potion that would help you. It was a delicate balance, and he was focused more than ever to create something that wouldn’t do more harm than good. The cut on your head was hastily cleaned and bandaged, but neither of them could tell what the extent of your injuries was.
“Please,” Jaskier whispered, eyes screwed shut with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “Please just let her live. Just one more day, please, I’m begging you.”
On the other side of the room, Geralt raised the potion, holding it up to the light and swirling it around. The movement caused a faint glow in the bottle, and Geralt brought the potion back down in front of him, grabbing one final ingredient.
'Cause she is so much more than all her scars
And if she doesn't have the will
“She can’t die,” Jaskier muttered, voice breaking. “She can’t.”
“She won’t.” Geralt’s voice didn’t sound very certain. There was something in his tone that made Jaskier’s heart drop. After knowing the witcher for so many years he was able to deduce even the slightest changes in his attitude, and Jaskier could tell how worried Geralt was under his hardened exterior.
He finished mixing an herb into the potion, setting it to the side while Jaskier spoke.
“She’s endured so much, Geralt.” There was a faraway look in the bard’s eyes. “Everything she’s gone through; all her scars, all her pain… It can’t end here. It can’t be for nothing.”
“It’ll be okay.” Geralt crossed the room, standing in front of you. He knelt down, gently pulling your mouth open and pouring the potion down your throat.
“Is it working?” Jaskier asked when he set the empty bottle down. Nothing had happened yet, but Geralt let it slide seeing how nervous he was.
Still, the witcher said nothing, staring intently while the potion worked its magic. Your veins glowed a faint blue color for a moment before it died down, the silence between the two men was deafening.
But it seems the whole world does I'll stay because
I will be the man my father never was
As he stared down at you, the first person to make him feel comfortable with his emotions, he couldn’t help but think back to a moment between him and his father when he was a child. The tears on his face were long forgotten with the memory playing in the back of his mind.
“Julian!” His father’s booming voice echoed around the room as he looked down at his crying son. “Stop your whining, you need to man up! No child of mine will be caught sniveling like a little girl!”
Jaskier sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes to no avail. He took a shuddering breath, hiding his face behind his hands. A broken lute sat before him, smashed by his father during an argument about where the boy’s future was going.
“Julian, now!” His father’s voice rang through his ears, and after a couple more moments, he was able to catch his breath, angrily swiping the tears out of his eyes.
He had barely managed to compose himself, long enough that his father lost interest, going off to find something else to be angry about.
Before he left the room, slamming the door on his way out, Jaskier could hear his father muttering about his worthless son. Still, he forced the tears back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep his sobs at bay.
When Jaskier looked at you, he remembered the first time he performed in front of you. The way you looked at him while he danced around the tavern was forever imprinted on his mind. There was so much adoration in your eyes, and you were smiling wider than he’d ever seen. Afterward, you’d told him how much you loved his singing, and he felt such a resurgence in confidence in his music that he hadn’t felt since he was very young.
And what you hear is not silence
It's just the trees waiting to hear what next you'll hum
On a quiet evening on the road, Jaskier had stopped strumming his lute. You noticed his shift in emotion, slowing to walk by his side. The three of you were traveling deep in the woods on your way to the next town with Geralt perched on Roach as per usual while you and Jaskier walked down the dirt path behind him.
“Why’d you stop?” You asked quietly, nudging the bard lightly to get his attention. He seemed lost in his thoughts, staring up at the night sky with a heavy sigh.
“It’s quiet.” He said, dropping his gaze to look around at the expanse of trees. The only other sound around you was Roach’s hooves hitting the ground. “I don’t want to disrupt that.”
“Oh Jask,” You could see a hint of a smile at the use of the nickname, something you picked up after his constant use of pet names towards you. “That’s not just silence.
He turned to you, slowing his walk with a look of confusion on his face.
“It’s the trees waiting to hear your next song.” You grinned, gesturing towards the open woods. “The world just wants to listen to your music.”
Jaskier laughed, his gaze falling to the ground.
“Please,” You persisted when he didn’t move to grab his lute. “I want to hear it.”
With a slight reluctance, Jaskier grabbed the lute he’d maneuvered over his shoulder, adjusting it in his hands. He began strumming the instrument, a soft tune echoing through the trees as he hummed the beginnings of his next ballad.
You couldn’t help the smile gracing your face, hanging on to every note he sang.
And what you see is not the dark
It's just the gods upturning inkpots
'Cause they know what you'll become
Not long after that evening, the three of you had set up camp not long after the sun had set, walking a few minutes off the dirt path to steer clear of other travelers.
Geralt was fast asleep not far from Roach, while you tried to relax in your own bedroll close to Jaskier’s.
It didn’t take long, however, to notice Jaskier sitting upright and staring out at the darkness around him, eyes darting around the woods as if he would miss something that would leap out and attack him. You frowned, scooting closer to him, apologizing quietly when he jumped at your movement. Stopping when your bedroll was touching his, you placed a careful hand on his shoulder, giving him a worried look you were sure he couldn’t see in the dark.
“You alright?”
He didn’t respond, still looking out into the empty night. “Do you hear that?”
You stopped for a moment, listening.
“No?”
He turned to you with a start, eyes wide with fear. “What if there’s something out there?”
“Then Geralt will handle it.” You nodded to the witcher a few feet from you, hand resting on his sword in his sleep.
Jaskier didn’t respond, but you could tell he was still on edge. An idea popped into your head, and you shifted in your seat, preparing to give the storyteller the gift he’d given you so often.
“The dark out there,” You pointed, watching him follow where your hand led. “It’s the gods upturning inkpots just for you.”
His brows furrowed, still looking out where you’d pointed.
“See, they know what an artist you’ll become. They’re giving you the proper materials.” You grinned when you saw him relax slightly, moving closer to you.
“The world, the gods, everyone can see what you’re going to become. I can see it, too.” Your voice was quiet, now, the moment becoming startlingly intimate.
“Can you, now?” Jaskier smirked, trying to ignore his increased heartbeat at the lack of distance between the two of you.
With an overconfident nod, you moved your hand over his shoulders. “Of course I can.”
And to those gods I will speak bluntly
We've an accord
If you ever touch or harm him
Your scream pierced the air when you saw a stray arrow flying through the air, striking Jaskier in the side. When you turned back to the bandit who sat atop his horse, bow still at the ready, your eyes darkened.
It didn’t take long to deal with him, reaching up to slice a dagger into his chest before he could reload his bow, barely paying him any mind as he slid off the horse, rushing to Jaskier’s side.
“Geralt!” Your voice carried through the air, praying it reached the witcher who wasn’t much further down the path.
Cursing under your breath, you ripped the cloth from your sleeve, pressing it onto his wound around the arrow to stop the bleeding.
The sight before you broke your heart into pieces, looking down at the bleeding bard. Someone who was once so vibrant, so loud and eccentric, rendered practically silent.
“Geralt!” You called again, voice cracking. Your hands were covered in blood, seeping through the fabric of your torn sleeve. The thought of it being Jaskier’s blood made you nauseous, but you persisted, shutting your eyes tightly and cursing again.
“I swear to you,” You muttered, opening your eyes just long enough to send a glare to the sky, addressing any god that could hear you. “If you allow him to die you will never know peace for as long as I live. You have to save him. You cannot let him die. You can’t.”
Please rest assured
That you might not fear a man
But to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plea
By the time Geralt reached your side, you were still hovering over Jaskier, the body of the bandit not far from either of you.
“The rest of his group are on their way, I can hear three more bandits.” He said, shifting his focus to Jaskier’s wound. “Deal with them, I’ll handle Jaskier.”
You nodded, standing shakily. “Don’t let him die.”
There was a fire in your eyes that stared deep into Geralt’s, and he knew there would be hell to pay if any more harm came to your bard. He unsheathed one of his swords, handing it off to you.
“Go.”
And with his word, you were off.
The three bandits barely stood a chance against you, your blood boiling with the fear of losing Jaskier and the anger of what had been done to him.
You gripped the sword tighter in your hands, seeing one of them approaching. He grinned when he made eye contact with you, unaware of how little life he had left.
By the time you were finished and making your way back to Geralt, the final man left was bleeding out off to the side of the path, propped against a tree with blood pouring from a deep gash on his leg.
“Please,” He begged, looking up at you as you passed. “I beg of you, save me.”
You looked down upon him, grimacing at the sight. His eyes were filled with hope when you approached him, Geralt’s sword still stuck inside the body of a bandit not far off.
It wasn’t until you picked up the axe just out of his reach that the hope faded from his eyes. He didn’t have enough time to beg once more for his life before you brought the axe down over his head, barely flinching when he went limp. You stepped away, pulling the sword out of the corpse that lay bloody in the grass and walking in the direction Geralt had gone.
When you finally found Geralt, who had laid Jaskier onto a bed, handling the wound as fast as he could, he looked up at you.
You gave him a blank stare, letting the sword fall from your hands with a loud clatter, walking to the other side of the room to work on a potion that might help Jaskier. The witcher knew without having to ask that the blood slashed across your face wasn’t your own. Once he gathered you were uninjured, he turned his focus back to the bard before him.
'Cause I'm more than what my mum told me to be
When you thought back to the man pleading for his life, you were reminded of what your mother had always told you when you were younger.
“Y/N,” Your mother sighed when she saw you enter the house covered in dirt, a wide smile on your face that slowly faded at her reaction. “Wash up immediately. It’s not ladylike.”
To avoid an argument, you quickly washed up, wiping the dirt from your face and putting on a clean pair of clothes.
“I wish you wouldn’t play in the woods so often.” She continued once you reappeared, gathering dinner for you and her.
“But it’s fun?” You were truly confused why she had such a problem with it, it’s not like dirt was permanent - you could wash it off any time.
“It’s not ladylike. It’s uncivilized.” Your brows furrowed.
“But then why are the other boys in town allowed to play in the dirt?” When the question left your mouth, the look on your mother’s face made you regret even asking.
“You will never have a respectable life if you continue down this road. You’ll never find a good man, and you’ll just be a hag living alone for the rest of your life.” She didn’t even have to raise her voice to get her point across, the sentence striking deep into your heart.
You sat in silence for a few seconds before you nodded, trying to push away the insecurity burying itself deep within you.
Looking down at Jaskier taking shallow breaths, you blinked back tears, handing Geralt the potion you’d made. With your anxiety steadily increasing, you watched Geralt pour the potion into the gaping wound.
“And now?” You asked, watching the magic cling to Jaskier. It looked similar to a web, pulling at the edges of the wound, working to close it.
“We wait,” Geralt said, leaving the room to give you privacy. He knew you weren’t going to leave Jaskier’s side anytime soon, so he retired to his own room to rest for the night.
He was right - you planted yourself in the seat beside the bed, eyeing the lute that lay on the floor, unscathed.
And I can hear her sing
Jaskier as he lay in bed, felt so far away from the world he was so used to. It was as if he was in a dreamlike state, but he could distantly make out the sound of his own lute. The first few notes caught his attention, strumming carefully.
It wasn’t until he heard your voice singing quietly that he felt some strength return to him. The sound of your singing was so faint and almost distorted that it felt like he was underwater, sinking further and further away from the land of the living. He could barely make out the words you were saying, but it felt so familiar all the same.
With a massive strain of effort, he pushed himself forward, trying with all his might to get back to you.
And I know she's giving up
With you still laying on the bed, the blue glow from Geralt’s potion long gone from your veins, Jaskier couldn’t help the anxiety building in his chest.
“She’s getting weaker,” Geralt said, and Jaskier swore he felt his heart tear into pieces.
Trying to push back his fear, Jaskier knelt by your bedside, taking your hand in his with the utmost care.
“Please, my love.”
You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.
“I need you,” Jaskier’s voice cracked painfully, a tear rolling down his face when he blinked. “Please stay with me.”
And I don't know what to do, how to help her
How to bring her home
Jaskier, stuck in a dreamlike state, pushed through the feeling of being underwater with your voice just beyond his reach. He had used up all his strength and was now floating in limbo with nothing but your soft voice filling his senses.
The pain was too much that he’d begun to panic, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it home to you. He wanted nothing more than to wake up, to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to be able to hold you in his arms.
He wanted to tell you he loved you.
He needed to tell you he loved you.
When your voice broke, he realized you were crying.
It brought a newfound strength to his body, fighting harder than before to get out, to wake up.
To get to you.
And I can hear him break
You knew you weren’t awake, that you weren’t conscious. You could practically feel how close you were teetering on the line between life and death, trapped in a void-like limbo. Your whole body was numb, the feeling of floating disorienting you.
It was so quiet you almost missed it, but you perked up at the sound of Jaskier’s voice echoing around you. It was so faint you had to strain to listen, unable to make out the words he was saying.
Still, it brought you an odd source of comfort. Even so close to death, Jaskier was still right there, waiting for you. It was a reminder of what to fight for. Something - someone you knew you had to fight for.
You could hear the way his voice broke, and you forced yourself to push toward the source of the sound, knowing you needed to get back to Jaskier no matter what.
And he doesn't understand
Jaskier, doing everything he could to get back to you, was strengthened by hearing you muttering soothing words. You’d stopped singing at this point, instead telling him how he was going to be alright. How you’d make sure of it. How you weren’t going to let him die. Anyone listening would���ve thought you were confident in your words, but Jaskier could hear the way your voice shook almost imperceptibly, fighting back the fear in your heart.
He would never understand why you were so scared of the idea of losing him - you’d mentioned it before on other days when he’d had brushes with death and danger. You told him about how much you needed him, and he couldn’t understand why someone like him was so important to someone like you. He had always wondered why you cared so deeply for him, but it wasn’t something he wanted to take for granted.
So, pushing on, he forced himself to move forward, your voice echoing around him louder than ever.
And I wish that I could take his hand
But where I'm going is for me and me alone
Still trapped in limbo, you bit back the pain you felt, forcing yourself to move closer to Jaskier’s distant voice. You had barely started to make out what he was saying; he seemed to be talking to Geralt about your condition.
“Is it working? Geralt, is anything even happening?” He sounded angry, angrier than you’d ever heard him.
Geralt had responded, but he was so far away you could barely hear him.
“I cannot lose her!” You heard him yell. The pain in his voice pulled at your heartstrings.
Continuing forward, you wanted nothing more than to take his hand in yours and tell him everything was alright. That you were alright.
Though, you weren’t sure if that was true or not at this point.
Another part of you knew, as well, that this was a journey you had to survive on your own, especially if you wanted to see him again.
And I can hear her sing
Louder than ever now, Jaskier could hear your singing. It was a ballad of his that you always told him you loved. It warmed his heart that you knew it so well. You were strumming along on his lute - he remembered when he taught you how to play when the two of you had spare time, which you often did as Geralt was often alone getting coins for the group.
Every part of his body was in pain, but with every note you played and every word you sang, he knew he had to get back to you.
He continued, fighting his way toward the sound of your voice that echoed around him, trying to ignore the ache in his side with every movement.
If I don't make it back from where I've gone
Just know I loved you all along
Jaskier was still talking - he was always good at that. When your limbs felt like jello and every step took every ounce of your energy, you let yourself focus on his calming voice.
For a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t make it back. You were so weak you almost let yourself sink back down, falling closer to the line between life and death when Jaskier caught your attention once more.
“Please, Geralt. Please save her. I need her, I can’t-” His voice broke harshly, and you knew nothing would stop you from getting back to the bard that had found himself in your heart.
If I don't make it back from where I've gone
Just know I loved you all along
Jaskier’s finger twitched, and he was starting to feel his surroundings once more, bit by bit. The void state he was in began to fill with color. Your voice was unwavering, now moving on to humming random tunes while you plucked the strings of his lute, unaware of how close Jaskier was to waking up.
He was still unable to force his eyes open, but he could feel the world around him a little better by the second.
The warmth of the blanket laid over him, the light wind from the open window beside him, it all started to creep back into his senses.
After all, you’d been trying so hard to bring him back, he might as well try to do his part.
If I don't make it back from where I've gone
Just know I loved you all along
You made your way closer to where you could hear Jaskier, the desperation in his tone making you more determined than ever.
Ever so faintly, you swore you could feel someone grab your hand, so gently that you instantly knew it was him.
“My heart,” Jaskier whispered, the sound echoing into your soul. “Please wake up.”
The world around you started to fill your senses, so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.
Just as you began to come to, lightly squeezing Jaskier’s hand as a silent indication that you were there, the only thought in your mind was how there was no way in hell you were leaving Jaskier again.
If I don't make it back from where I've gone
Just know I loved you all along
Jaskier blinked awake, squinting at the sudden amount of light.
He barely had enough time to get his bearings before you wrapped your arms around him. He made a noise of surprise, blinking a couple more times before he realized what was going on. Still weak, he brought his arms up around you to return your embrace, letting himself relax in your arms.
“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, but you heard him clear as day, tightening your hold on him.
You finally pulled away, giving Jaskier a shaky smile, whispering a hello that made him grin. Quickly, you wiped the tears that had spilled from your eyes, his gaze softening.
“You’re alright,” You almost laughed, saying the words mostly for yourself than him.
(Loved you all along)
When you managed to open your eyes, Jaskier’s hand still firmly in yours, his breath hitched. He would later tell you it felt like the world slowed down around him the moment he saw your eyes open.
You tried to sit up in the bed before Jaskier hurriedly ushered you back down, not bothering to swipe at the tears from his eyes, too focused on your presence to even notice.
“Of course you were too stubborn to die.” He muttered with a wet laugh.
You barely nodded, still regaining your strength.
“Never scare me like that again, Y/N.” Jaskier’s voice lowered, suddenly very stern. “I can’t lose you. I really can’t.”
“I know, Jask.” He couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, hearing you say it with so much love that he could practically feel your adoration towards him.
Ever so gently, he pulled you into a warm hug, burying your head in his neck.
“I needed to get back to you.” You explained, voice muffled in Jaskier’s hold. “I wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.”
Jaskier’s brows furrowed, though you hadn’t seen it.
“Why me?” The words came before he could stop them, and he regretted them for only a second when he felt you pull away only for you to maneuver yourself so your forehead was resting against his.
With Geralt long gone, wanting to give the two of you privacy to talk, you sat with him in the silence, comfortable in his presence in a way you could only be around him.
Breaking through the silence was a whispered confession, only to be heard by the both of you.
“I loved you all along.”
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mochi-marmalade · 6 months
Text
Rose & Scar
TWO: Perle
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a/n: i really liked writing this royal guard!König x princess!reader 3.6k words chapter summary: the day of the ball arrives. little do you know a surprise visitor (with an even more surprising identity) will spice things up warnings: language, slightly suggestive (??) 18+ MDNI
You can’t remember the last time you felt this miserable. Sara pulls the bodice of your dress so tight you’re not sure you’ll be able to breathe later. The dress you’re wearing tonight is a dark, muted purple. It’s lovely, but you’re not so sure it’s entirely you. The short sleeves are puffed and you’re wearing soft gloves to your elbows, which you appreciate because you’re getting clammy. You’re dreading this entire event, and you know there won’t be any solace in comfortable conversation because your father gave your guard the night off. “Oh, Your Highness, you’re going to look lovely.” Sara muses. Trying your best to be nice, you give her a halfhearted smile. She applies a soft pink to your eyes and stains your lips pink as well. You’re afraid that you might look a bit garish, but when you look in the mirror it’s actually not that bad. She slips heels on your feet and mutters an apologetic, “I hope you don’t get blisters.” You wince at the mere thought of the last royal event, in which you were stuck wearing high heels for hours on end. In addition, you were unable to sit because people kept coming up to talk to you. The pain lasted for weeks. Finally, Sara stands back to view her work. “You look absolutely beautiful, Your Highness. And not a moment too late, the ball will begin soon.” Your smile fades at her mention of the ball again, and you smooth your skirt while you walk down the hallway to the ballroom. There are guards stationed throughout the castle and you can’t help but wonder what König is doing right now. Sleeping, you hope. He never seems to do it while he’s watching you, which is pretty much always.
Time passes slowly and quickly all at once as names are announced. You walk into the ballroom after your father, and flash your best fake smile while you walk down the stairs to the main floor. Soon, the party has truly begun, and people mingle while holding drinks in one hand. There are easily hundreds of people here, and you are expected to talk to all of them. People come and go and young men introduce themselves, some eyeing you hungrily, some obviously uninterested. Very few stick in your memory, but none catch your eye. The sights and sounds of the ball would be truly wondrous if you weren’t being forced to marry one of the men here. Older men come and introduce themselves to you as well, many indirectly flaunting their wealth. At one point, you’re so tired of it all that you excuse yourself to the table of refreshments. You lean on the table as much as you can without breaking your unspoken rule of maintaining good posture. This dress is tight, and you’re hot, and there are so many people, but you take a deep breath and remind yourself to take it one person at a time. You ask a servant for a glass of water, which they gladly give, and you do your best not to down it within seconds. Returning the empty glass to the servant, you continue to chat with nobles and wealthy citizens until you are undeniably bored. It seems like it’s been hours, and for all you know it has been. Each man who comes to compete for your hand in marriage is worse than the last, and it takes everything you have to not look as disgusted as you feel. Finally a small band of stringed instruments begins to play and you sigh in relief because this means people will be more occupied dancing. One of the young men who introduced himself to you earlier comes to ask you for a dance, and you accept. The two of you dance Le Allemande and, surprisingly, it’s actually kind of enjoyable. You’re pretty sure his name is Jones and he’s some sort of noble from a somewhat far land. He bows to you, and as you curtsy, someone speaks to you from behind. As you’re turning, you notice people around you murmuring and looking at whoever is behind you. When you see the huge, masked person you understand why. You don’t recall this being a masquerade, but the man wears a Venetian looking mask covering his entire face anyway. “Sir, I do believe you are in the wrong place.” “I am quite sure I am not.” He replies, holding out a hand to you. Slowly and hesitantly, you place your hand in his and he sweeps you onto the dance floor. You begin to waltz and you ask, “Who are you?”
“They call me the King, though I am hardly a monarch. I hail from Austria.”
“You are certainly in the wrong place, then, good sir. My father has arranged this ball primarily for men to ask for my hand in marriage.”
“I do not care to divulge information to people I hardly know, but I can assure you I am in the right place.”
You’re confused by his words, but figure that even nobles from other countries may be good candidates for marriage. His mask is red under the eyes and littered with stars, which you like. His eyes are stunning- they remind you of König’s. You wonder if a lot of people from Germany and nearby countries have blue eyes.  His strong hand is placed against your back as you sway along with him, and you dare say you feel secure in his hold. His brilliant blue eyes smile from under his mask and he asks if you’re enjoying yourself, to which you can only nod. “I dare say I’ve caught you speechless, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps you have, dear King.”
“Just let me guide you… There’s nothing to be nervous about.” He chuckles. It’s a low, gruff sound that fills you with warmth. He leads you through the rest of the dance and you swear the chemistry between you two is almost palpable. Once the song ends, you break all social rules to say, “Wait! Don’t go, let’s dance again.” He laughs again and tells you, “Don’t worry, my dear, we’ll meet again. I promise, I’ll dance with you another time. I have my own matters to attend to now.” He bows and disappears into the crowd. You are left just as mystified as when you saw him, completely confused about what he means. The rest of the night passes slowly. You barely notice other people talking to you and offering you desserts. At one point, you escape to the powder room and run into a few members of the royal guard. They eye you silently, and you notice one is wearing a mask like König usually does. König… You’d almost forgotten about him since you danced with the mysterious guest. Eventually the ball ends and you retreat to your room, completely exhausted. You quickly change clothes and cover yourself with plush blankets before falling asleep. 
The next morning you are not awoken by Sara, probably because of the late night. You feel groggy and not as energetic as you would on a normal morning, but you suppose that is to be expected. Yawning, you drag yourself out of bed and slide your sore feet into slippers. You’ve noticed the weather gradually getting colder, and although it’s not quite cold yet, there’s a slight chill in the air. You glance outside the window to see leaves beginning to fall and turn into fiery colors. You change into a pale yellow dress and drape a cloak around your shoulders to help keep you warm. You also take care to put on comfortable shoes, as your feet are mangled by blisters. “Good morning, König.” You say as you leave your room. “It’s nearly noon, princess.”
“Is it really?”
He nods and you realize you slept in much later than you thought. “Well, I had a late night. I hope you rested well.” You say. 
“I did.”
You’re pleased at his response, glad he got much deserved rest. The King lingers in your memory, and you think about just how charming he was. You’re aware that you’re staring into space right now and König will probably ask what’s bothering you, but you can’t lead your thoughts away from the elusive King. “What’s on your mind, princess?”
“Oh, just… A guest from last night.”
König looks at you inquisitively, and you feel compelled to explain. “He said people call him the King, and he wore a mask even though the ball wasn’t a masquerade. He was very curious, although… I dare say he captivated me. I probably won’t see him again, though.”
König sighs with some emotion you can’t place, and tells you, “You never know, princess.” You tilt your head at him, wondering, “Do you know something I don’t, König?” He laughs once, and you cross your arms, growing suspicious. “No, princess, I don’t think I do.” Huffing, you turn from him and begin to walk down the corridor. 
“What are we doing today, princess?”
“We are going horseback riding.”
Surprised, he says, “I didn’t know you rode horses.”
“I don’t. You’re taking me.”
Once you arrive at the stables, a stable boy looks at you wide-eyed. Clearly he isn’t used to the royal family visiting. “A destrier, for riding.” König tells the stable boy. He scrambles to affix harnesses and a saddle to a very large, strong-looking horse. Then he passes the reins to König. “Here you are, princess. Let me just…” He trails off as he lifts you onto the horse and you swing one leg to rest on the other side of the horse. König gets on behind you and explains, “This is a nice, strong horse used for war, he’ll have no problem carrying us for a while.” You stroke the horse’s neck along his mane and he whinnies. König finally directs the horse to trot away from the stables, following a dirt path through the grounds. The leaves fall around you and there are only a few clouds in the blue sky. You rest your back on König’s chest and smile up at him. You know that you’re getting into dangerous territory now, but you can’t help yourself. You don’t even know how long König will be around the castle, something could happen and he could leave or be replaced. Why not do what you want while you still can? Soon you’ll have to marry someone and become the queen, which you don’t even want to think about. He glances down at you quickly, then returns his gaze to the path ahead. Both of you sit in comfortable silence as birds chirp and the horse walks along. You return to the castle much sooner than you expected, and you don’t really want to go back inside, but you know the horse needs to rest. König helps you off the horse and the two of you walk back through the halls to the library. You want to read something- anything that’ll help you pass the time. Settling in a chair, you review the books you picked out: Some romance novel, a falconry handbook and a guide to German. You’d like to learn a few words, but before you even have the chance to open it, König swoops by and takes it out of your grasp. “A German guide? Why would you read this silly book when you have me, huh? I can tell you everything you need to know.” He scoffs. “Hey!” You exclaim. “König, how am I supposed to learn when you won’t tell me anything? You never even offered!” 
“Then ask me.”
You think for a moment, and finally ask, “How do you say princess?”
“Prinzessin.” 
“What does your name mean?”
He falls silent, thinking about what he should say. Should he lie? You’d know everything if he told you, but he doesn’t want to be untruthful. “You said it’s something people call you, like a nickname, right? What does it mean?”
“It’s… King.” 
Your face falls, making the connection immediately. “Are you…?”
“I’m from Austria.”
You get up and angrily make your way to him, shouting, “It was you all along! Why didn’t you just tell me?! I can’t believe you played me like a fool- is that what you think of me? A fool?”
“Princess, you know as well as I do I wouldn’t be allowed in a ball. A lowly soldier at an event for the elite? The thought itself is laughable.” 
You think for a moment, eyes locked with his own. “You- Ugh, I can’t believe you!” You storm away to your room. He knows you want space, but he follows you anyway because it’s his job. As you throw your door open, you step in and try to swing it shut, but never hear the telltale click of it closing. You roll your eyes when you see König standing there, looking almost like a child. He looks vulnerable and unsure, and it makes you soften a bit. “König… Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
“I know your father wants you to marry, that’s why he threw the ball. I’m hardly a suitable candidate, but I wanted to dance with you… At least once. I wanted the opportunity to be someone other than the rough soldier who doesn’t stand a chance.”
You look at him, and the darkening sky’s stars don’t nearly compare to the sparkle in his eyes. You step closer and catch him in an embrace. He seems taken aback, but after a moment he returns the hug. You fill with warmth and tell him, “We’ll figure something out.” You pull away and he looks different somehow. The sight of him fills you with joy, and you can’t help but smile. You realize it’s time for dinner and go to the dining hall to eat. You’re filled with glee and the attendant serving your food says they’re glad you’re feeling well. While eating, you think about what you’re going to tell your father, and you can’t think of any good options. You can’t just tell him you’re going to marry your personal guard, but what else is there to do? Finishing your food, you leave the table and ask König what you should do. “Honestly, princess, you’re asking the wrong person. The thought never crossed my mind.” You huff and cross your arms. “You could always, you know, just… Marry someone else?” The mere thought of that elicits nauseating feelings throughout your stomach. Your lips quirk in a humorless smile, and you are quick to tell him, “No. I could never be stuck in a loveless marriage knowing you’re out there.” König’s hand lands on your shoulder and he looks down at you, teasing, “Oh really? Why’s that?” You groan and playfully shove his hand off your shoulder. In response, his hands fly to your waist and he picks you up in a bridal carry. You’re laughing far too loudly, and try to quiet down before a servant comes to check on the commotion. “König, you’re going to get us in trouble!” 
“Princess, I am trouble.” 
You softly hit him, and he chuckles, gently setting you down. Seeing you yawn, he suggests you retire to your room for the evening. “But König, what about you?” His eyebrow lifts and he asks, “What about me?” 
“How are you going to sleep if you’re standing guard?”
“Oh, I do sleep. Just not quite as often as you do, Dornröschen.”
You yawn again and finally agree to go to sleep. Quickly changing into a nightgown, you turn the lights down and get in bed. The day replays in your head as you lay in bed, slowly falling asleep.
You stretch awake, slowly sliding out of bed. Today you’re more excited than usual, and Sara is quick to dress you in a lilac purple dress. “You seem particularly chipper today, Your Highness.”
“I suppose I just slept well.”
She nods and finishes lacing your bodice, then wishes you a good day and leaves. You step out of your room, but before you can greet König, you realize it’s not him at your door. You stare at the stranger in surprise, and he smiles in response. He speaks in a heavily accented, gravelly voice, saying, “Sorry, princess, I know I’m not your usual soldier.”
“...Where is he?”
“In the barracks. Said he’d be back before long.” The stranger responds. He sports a thick mustache and beard, and you’re curious how convenient that is for him as a warrior. “What’s your name, soldier?”
“Captain John Price, Your Highness”
“You sound… British.”
He guffaws, a loud and booming sound. “I am.” You turn from him and begin your journey down the hallway. Much to your dismay, he follows you, but you suppose there’s not much you can do about it. If he’s standing in for König, it’s his job and responsibility to watch you now. “Where are we off to now?”
“The barracks.”
He takes a few long strides to catch up to you, and advises, “Your Highness, you can’t be serious. He’ll be back soon. Trust me, that is a place you don’t want to go.” His string of pleas don’t do anything. In fact, they just strengthen your resolve to go. It’s unusual for König to be gone, and if you’re being honest, you’re not sure you can stand being stuck with anyone else. Eventually giving up, Price follows along and occasionally makes small talk. “I don’t actually know him too well, just know he owes me now. He always wears that mask on his face, which is a little strange. I’ve heard he’s a good soldier though.” You don’t want to be rude, but you don’t really have much to say so you nod and hum in response. Finally reaching the doors to the castle, you realize you didn’t bring a cloak. You don’t want to seem cold, though, so you tough it out and pretend the hairs on your arms aren’t standing up. Price is still following you when you enter the barracks, men’s voices echoing on the stone walls. You walk up the stairs to what looks like a common area and are met with men playing card games and drinking. Some are only half dressed, and as soon as they see you, they rush to their rooms. A man with the sides of his head shaven gets up to greet you, bowing deeply and kissing your hand. You’re not quite sure how to respond to all of it. He generously offers to get König, snickering as he walks away. Another tall man with a mask sits at a table, and nods to you. You think about what it must be like to live here, in the uncomfortable stone walls with scores of other men. Finally, the man with a shaved head returns, and a sleepy König trails behind him. “What was it you wanted from me?” He asks, before spotting you. “Ah, hell! You didn’t tell me she was here!” König is… only wearing pants, and it takes all of your self-control to avert your eyes. You look in his general direction again, careful to keep your eyes on his mask, and see him holding the other man by his shirt. You cough just loud enough for them to hear you, and König drops the other man before quickly going to put his gear on. “Well, princess, for all they lack in social awareness they make up for in combat skills.” Price says, shaking his head. König comes back a few minutes later to see the man with the shaved head trying to talk himself up to you. “That’s enough, Soap.” König growls as he makes his way to your side. “Thank you.” He says to Price.
“You’re very welcome. Don’t forget about this, now.”
You spend time with König, mostly sitting and reading in the library. You wish you could sit in the garden, but the temperature seems to drop by the day, making it too cold to spend an extended amount of time outside. Although König undeniably makes your days better, the fear of having to tell your father your decision lingers in the back of your head. König notices you occasionally blowing on your hands for warmth and places his large cape over you, which helps. “König,” You sigh. “How did I ever get so lucky?” He crouches to your level and places his hand over yours. “I do believe I’m the lucky one, meine Taube.” It’s funny how quickly things can change. It was just the other day that he was nothing but your guard, and now you’re… Well, you don’t actually know, but you’re something. “König.”
“Yes, meine Perle.”
“You use such pretty words. What are we?”
“Hmm… I suppose it’s up to you, princess. I would leave this place now and never come back if it was what you wanted. I would stay forever if you said so.”
“Lovers, maybe.” You consider. “Yes, lovers. That’s a nice way to put it.” He says, hand cupping your face. His thumb rubs your cheek, and you feel so blissful, you can’t possibly begin to describe it. He finally gets up and collects his cape, motioning for you to get up too. “Ready for bed?” He asks. You frown, thinking it’s still afternoon, but one look at the dark windows tells you it’s much later. “I suppose.” You concede. He leads you to your room, lifts his mask a bit, and places a kiss on your cheek. He smells clean, like pine and woodfire. His lips, although a bit chapped, are soft on your skin. “Goodnight, my princess.”
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nihilnovisubsole · 7 months
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oh, right, shadowbringers! i'm overdue for another ffxiv bullet point vibe check. i actually finished it a couple of weeks ago, and then my sink exploded [long story] and i wanted to chew on it for a while. it's clear that this expac is an overwhelming fan favorite, so i figured i should formulate some more intelligent thoughts about it.
part of me worries that my shadowbringers experience was colored by how badly i missed the people and places on the source. more than the aether and gods and soul transference and all that stuff, what i really took away was a sense of loneliness. the first isn't my world. its citizens are strangers to me, though i recognize on a philosophical level that i should help them. even the scions - in theory, my closest comrades - have lived for years in the blink of my eye and become very different people. when did thancred become responsible? when did the twins grow up? i wondered what other NPCs were doing without me. all i wanted was to go home.
on the other hand, i read a theory that this is the point. the story wants you to feel cut loose from everything you know. are you still a hero in an emotional vacuum? will you still put yourself on the line to do the right thing? sure, your world will be doomed if theirs falls, but that possibility seems so huge and far-off that it doesn't register in your gut. i don't think that's the writing failing to connect with me or anything. if that's the intent, it's an interesting feeling for a game to evoke.
i may have also exacerbated that feeling by keeping my actual avatar isolated on norvrandt for so long. i mentioned earlier that i play around the game's day-night cycle, running missions based on when they'll feel most immersive. that extends to maps, too: if the story says i'm stuck in a place, i stay around that place until the story carries me elsewhere. i mean, i'll dip out for wondrous tails and daily cactpot and stuff, but i don't take big story vacations to jet around eorzea. i didn't "come back" from the far east in stormblood until doma was free. that's a lot of MSQ to just spend alone with your thoughts.
there's a storytelling paradox at work: the first's problems are so large and so bad that it's smaller and more personal when you become invested in someone's plight. i expected to care a lot about liberating ala mhigo because i'm so fond of raubahn as a character, and i did. i didn't expect to feel the pity that i felt for, say, kai-shirr, or runar's unrequited crush on y'shtola. it comes on slowly and quietly.
i don't know. it's a curious story. it's a melancholy story. it's a lot more experimental than the expacs that came before it. it'd probably be worth it to new-game-plus it at some point to pay closer attention to the individual character arcs.
same goes for emet-selch. he's a curious villain. i don't sympathize with his methods, and i obviously have no romantic interest in him. but i keep mulling him over. he keeps lurking in the back of my mind, which means that his writing succeeds by virtue of being memorable.
to my mind, everything around amaurot contributes to that success. amaurot is where it all starts to come together for me. it's a beautiful, odd place - art deco in final fantasy? who knew? - and the pinnacle of the arc's surreal "this is a dream, but tangible" tone. you can tell the team wanted to go all out with the ascian reveals they'd been building up to for years. i wonder if they had fun designing it.
even if it is. i. hm. no i shan't say it
all right, i'll say it
I AM EMET-SELCH AND I AM HERE TO ASK YOU A QUESTION
there, it's out of my system. on a less ridiculous note, i finally got royce's canon armor! now i can gpose freely. i wish there were an in-engine way to pose with NPCs, but them's the breaks. who knows? maybe we'll get it eventually. it is a live service game.
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kayssweetdreams · 8 days
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The Perfect Finale Ch40
Meanwhile, Back in the Real World...
Kaylo stared at the door in worry. It had been quite a while and both maestros, nor the human group still have returned yet. The pink haired girl stared worriedly at the costumes. While being away from Wonderworld made the Tims and Negati begin to fade, the costumes began to look more...human, as their magical parts began to dissappear. One of the Dawn Butterflies wings began to fade away, as their antennas turned to hair, while a Key Mouse's tail began to vanish, and it's ears shrunk to human size
Unfortunately, this also made them very weak as well. "When...When are the maestros coming back?" Asked a Paladin Puncher, as he played with his newfound arms "U-Um...I'm not too sure. They still have to get their powers back." Kaylo replied, trying to ease their worry. "I hope that they're OK..." A Guardian Bird asked as her beautiful wings began to fall away to normal arms. "I-I'm sure they're fine!" Kaylo said, trying to remain optimistic.
A sudden beat in her combined Wonderworld heart however said otherwise. She felt a sudden pang as she could suddenly see Balan and Lance running for their lives from what looked to be a giant red Negati, and Yin glaring angrily at something...or someone. Kaylo gasped as she looked around wildly, the costumes staring worriedly at her. "What's wrong?" A Inky Blaster that could be mistaken for Lucy asked.
"I gotta get to Wonderworld now! The maestros looked like they were in danger!" She said. A Whirling Wolf turning human blocked the door "No! You can't go in there! Not while the Banished Maestro is looking for your heart! Going in there now would be suicide!" He said. "But Balan and Lance need help!" Kaylo tried to argue, but a Double Jumper and Double Trouble grabbed her arms and began dragging her away from the door.
"You must understand! Yin is a MONSTER! He will destroy you if he gets the chance!" The Double Jumper said. However, once again, Kaylo's emotions ended up amplified thanks to the heart, causing her to blow them, and the rest of the costumes back. The auditorium around them had transformed into a more wondrous theater, and the doors looked more grand, now decorated in gold, and Drops.
Looking around, Kaylo dashed towards the door, ignoring the protests of the other costumes. A rush of multiple emotions rushed through her, but her main concern was helping the maestros against Yin. She slowly opened the door, feeling the pulse of the heart beating against her chest. Wonderworld was in DIRE need of its heart...especially when Yin was threatening its very existence.
Without a second thought, the pink haired girl walked into the door, making the costumes get worried, as they began to turn human even FASTER. "Oh no! Oh no! She's DOOMED!!" Jellyjolt panicked as her tentacles became hands.
It was only a matter of time before it was too late...
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realshinjiikari · 6 months
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Professor Snape x Teletubbies erotica. Do not open.
Severus Snape, Professor and Lover
Severus Snape was very sad. He was not having many pleasures doing lectues and teaching stuents anymore. All those adventures happening at Hogwarts sucked the inner life from his bones…and he had nothing more to accomplish. He went to Dumbledor:
"Heaadmastet, I want to be expelled, I don’t have what it takes to teach anymoire."
Dumbledore was puzzled:
"But Snepa, you are my best professor, you can’t go and waste the knowlegde you have!"
"Oh Dumbledore…I’m so sad." said Snape putting the back of his hand on his forehead.
Dumbledor, the powerful and wiseful magus he wwas thought a solution:
"Okay Snape, I’ll transfer you to another place, somewhere calm where you will help good creatures that have n o parents."
Snape got greatful thatDumblerdo understood his feelings and pushed him to place less onerous to his advancing age.
Snape took a train and after days, finally reached an colorful and wonderful place. It was the Tubbydome Supertronic, the place of dwee]lling of his new students. He reached there, and a periscophe welcomed him:
"Profwssor Snape, you arrived! The students waits you in the classroom."
Snape was still sad, but his powerful stomach got chills, because the mystery of novelty aproacches his comfort zone.
When Snape entered the classroom, four color creatues were there seatting on the chairs. They said to Snape:
"Eh-Oh!" and Snape smilled, feeling his heart get full of ingnominous passion.
"Alright dear students, today, you will learn potion making."
"No, we want to learn how to be adult!" cried the four Teletubbies. They had live for many long inside that perfect bubble, only experimenting the baby joys of youth. But every day was equal to them, not really happened at their house and life was boring.
When Snape arrive, a flash of hope filled their hearts with the promisse of life beyond the perfect prison they got trapped whne they got born. Only that dark robbed and pale skinned man can save the babies from this terrible fate.
"But kids," said Seevrus "I must acomplish the curriculum!"
"Oh professor, I’m dying from inside, don’t let the evil periscophe suck the last remnants of humanity locked in my so fatal brokened heart" saaid the yellow Teletubbie, Laa-Laa, with a sensive voice, calling for a strong man to free her mind…her body.
Snape looked her, and felt somethnig funny inside his pelvis. It was a long time since the last time he shared a intimacy filled momnet with a woman. Snape was starting to break:
"But Teletubbies…if the periscophe woman watches us…how can we have privacy?"
The purple leader, Tinky Winky, got up and uttered with his powerful throat:
"I have a secret place professor. We can learn there and free ouselves from the bounds of madness that others inflicted upon us!" said him hitting his chest with a clench hands.
Snpae looked down, thought, and followed the purple leader. They opened a secret door inside their house, a door leading to the basement.
The place was full of rats and cockroaches. Water infiltrated the place and mold smell was present in dangerous quantities. A lot of earth and dirty was covering the place, and a hole in the wall could be seen.
"You are making a hole?"
"Yes Snape," said Tinky Winky, "we must escape, so we are creating a exit route to get out of the evil crunchs of the woman periscophe."
"Oh, I must help you Teletubbies."
"Prodfessor" said Laa-Laa, "first, teach us how to adult!"
Snape nooded in agreement. He, wth his wondrous magic wand created a giant bed, and some wine and cheese to acompany this iluustrious wisdom moment.
"Teletubbies, lay her with me, I’ll teach you how to be a man. Oh, but you Poo, aren’t ready yet. You are too young baby. Stay here in the corner and play with you small hose." and Poo got sad, but neverthless, he did what Snpe said and watched the others while they got teached.
"So" said Snap, "Laa-Laa, you make a pair with me. Tinky-Winky, you go with Dipsy. Watch me while I play with Laa-Laa and mimic my movements. This way you will learn."
Snape them got on his kness and looked at the layied Laa-Laa. She was sweatting a bit.
"Don’t be afraid small yellow girl, just spread your legs." and she did. An engorged vagina shine at her crotch, but it was full of cotton yellow pubic hair. Snape picked up a scissor and cut it.
"Snape" said Dipsy "Tinky Winky have no crotch mouth, but a very strange tongue. It’s filled with purple wrinkled skin!"
"Oh Dispy, he don’t have crotch mouth. But behind him, you will find a pork’s eye. Don’t be afraid, it’s dirty, but after a while you will like the fine flavor of melted chocolate covering your lips."
Dipsy turned Tinky Winky, and the purple Telletubbie revealed his deep purple anal hole.
"What I do?" asked Dipsy.
"The same I will do with Laa-Laa, don’t be afriad. Tinky Winky will scream and moan, but you must go on. " said Snape with a calm and softfull deep voice.
"Oh professor" said Laa-Laa with a moaning lustful voise, "I think I peed myself. I’m feeling moist."
"No Laa-Laa, you not pee. You only are happy that I’m here."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. Now…suck my index finger" and she did.
And Snape unclothed himself. His pale shiny penis appeared and all of the Teletubbies got impressed. His nut sack was very white and hairy and exhalled a snake oil parfum essence. Laa-Laa felt a jolt of pleusre down her antenna.
"Now boys, do as I do" and them, Snape introducted his wizard wondrous penis inside Laa-Laa. She screamed:
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" and a flush of yellow blood got expelled from her now broken hymen. The yeloow blood covered Snake, and he rubbed himself with that sticky liquid.
"Prodessor" moaned loudly Laa-Laa, "isn’t this wrong? I’m feeling so dirty."
"No Laa-Laa, don’t be ashamed. When you bit the forbidden fruit, the knowlegde will fullfil you inner most desires. Be my Eve!" and Snape punch her uterus with his roquefort penis. The Teletubbie girl moans more and smilles her face.
Dipsy do the same on Tinky Wonky, puncturing the purple asshole with the green penis he is so proud of. Tinky Winky screams:
"AAAAHHHH! You hurts me my dear friend! Stop, I cannot withstand your protuberant obelisk of delectation!"
"I can’t" said Dipsy with a condensending voice "professor said I must go on with our journey throughout the steps towards a greater understanding about our true nature as alienated species from our parenthood."
"Tinky Winky was suffering the destiny of those under the yoke of their own expectations. But Snape was wise and appealed:
"Dipsy, use your bodly fluids to appease the sorrow of your roost companion."
Dipsy them spit on his hand an immense gob of putrid mucus. It was green as his body and full of dancing crawlers that were enjoying the hot abode that was his nostrils. Dipsy covered his fluffy hard penis with it and penetrated Tinky Winky again. This time, the purple one enjoyied.
"Ooohhohoohohhhhoohhhhh…"
Snape was funcking hard Laa-Laa. A lot of yellow blood continued to get ot her defilled vaginal daisy. The pain hurted her much:
"Profezro, It aches my skin and negates the maturation you unleash inside my sacred womb."
"Be calm my yelloew student. After a while, no pain can touch you. Wait the massage of gods." and she did. After a while, the orgasms started, and she had multiple ones. Her chest grew a pair of xanthous brests, and they lactated the nectar of the houses of holy.
But she wasn’t in her mature years yet, and her bowel controls were rudimentary. The orgasms unleashed a cataract of pappy hot shit thru her untouched lutelous anus. The slop of dung covered the bed and the smell was atroucious. The flow was so intense, globs of shit splashed at Snape’s legs and hit his pale and sweet face.
"Ohhhhhh Laa-Laa" said Snape "finally, the cocoa honey bestow us with this feast of gormandized gut’s contents!" and Snape rubbed his face with the black fetid hodge-podge ooze Laa-Laa vomited with her anus. It so was hot and disgusting that Snape vomited a mash of orange juice, bloody spaghetti and mama’s chilli pepper over her lustful body. It reached Laa-Laa vagina and burned it and splashed all over her tummy. She rubbed the vomit all over her belly and breasts and swallowed a good portion of it.
Laa-Laa is happy, she reached a new stage of illumination and now can let go her shame of being the mistress of a snake old man.
Dipsy took a portion of that hot boiling dung and deposited it inside Tinky-Winky’s anus. Now, the penetration is complete. They are enjoying the most complete recollection of human’s past lives as beings dipping inside their own bodly properties.
"Snape" said Laa-Laa, "can I penetrate you too?"
Snape got pensive. He never thought about something so insulting to his manhood, but the pleasure was so insane, he nooded with a moan:
"Yeeeeesssssss" and Laa-Laa prepared her finger full of vomit and macaroni strings. She moved slowly her index finger and prepared to penetrated it…and she did! The finger entered Snape left nostril and started to fuck it. She was fast and didn’t want to lose time.
As Laa-Laa fucked Snape’s nose, the vomit in her nails entered it and he breathed it. He gaged and coughed the bloody puke and it hit Laa-Laa’s eyes, but she laughed.
Laa-Laa them put her other index finger inside the other Snape nostril, and he felt the pleasure more intense. Laa-Laa’s tits lactated like no other in the world, like a fountain of milk and passionate dung. The milk and shit shower was so intense it reached Poo, that was at a corner masturbating to the whole scene. He drink the shitty covered milk and peed himself in pleasure. Even a small Telletubie have the right to fell the magnificent joy of the motherly nourishment coming from his sister’s breasts.
Now, Snape is ready to cum. He grabs his penis and fell the throobing coming…and them…the cum-tastic delight goes out of his powerful snake hose and fills Laa-Laa’s small vagina with a gorgeous and thunderstriking goo that overflows her and wash the last pureness that yellow and sexy body had one day.
She cums too, and now, she is a complete fl, a yelow and tasty alien woman girl with nice and softly cotton breasts. Her Telletubbie body got gorugeously tasty an even her brothers think she is delicious now that she have breasts.
Dipsy cums inside Tinky Winky too, and the two cotton alien boys now discover what it takes to make a real action hero.
"Boys" said Snape "you have graduated. You now are full fledged mature and responsible adults. You can take care of your own butts and do with it all you deserve."
Poo was a little sad, but she know her time will come.
"Snape" said Tinky Winky rubbing his cum covered and hurting ass "We must escape, the perischope woman is already searching for us, because we haven’t returned to sleep."
"Okay Tinky-Winky, you lead the way" and the Telletubbies and Snape followeed Tinky-Winky’s down the hole they excavated. The cave was very dark and long, but Snape used his wand to iluminate the way.
As they walked, down the cave, a light at the end of the tunnel was near, and they raced towards it. But someone was expecting them. A figure was facing the cave, with his back turned against the light out of the tunnel.
"You shall not pass." said the voice
"Who are you?" askjed Snape
"I’m very disappointed with you Snape. I thought you had a rocky shadow heart. But it seems I’m wrong. It was a mistake sending you here to placate these little rainbow bastards. A mistake I’m going to correct."
"Wait, I know that voice…it’s-" and them, the figure emerges from the light, create a flowing flame around him, and his face is revealed. It’s Dumbledore!
"No! You!" shouted Snpae.
"Yes, me!"
"Why do you want with the Telletubbies?"
"Oh, you don’t know? They are Death Eaters Snape! We must kill them!"
"Death Eaters? That’s impossible!"
"No…" said Tinky-Winky "it’s true. We worked to Voldermot."
Snape got awed:
"No…why?"
"Voldermort promissed that he would free our homeland from the dementors horde invasion. But, as we worked for him and infiltrated inside the Hogwarts, Dumbledore caught us. Now he absorbs our energies to fuel his mecha-bulldozer that-"
"Shut the fuck up!" cried Dumbledore. "You now will die!"
"No, I will not permit!" said Snape. He created a strong bound with those aliens, and he can’t let them die, even if they are working for the enemy.
"So" said Dumbledor "you will die too!" and Dumbledore invoke the killing speel from his wand. But them, Yinky-Winky, from the bottom of his purse, pulled out a Colt 45 Revolver and shoot Dumbledore, but the wizard deflected the bullet.
"HA, you cannot kill me!"
"Snape, go, save the Telletubbies, I’ll buy you time!" cried Tikny-Winky.
"No!" shout Laa-Laa "we can’t let you die here!"
"But you must, our he will kill us all and no one will can save our homeland!" and the Tinky-Winky advanced in the Dumbledore’s direction shooting rapid bullets at him.
Snape used his wand and started to drill a hole in the cave, circumventing the vicious battle happening near the entrance. Snape and the Telletubbies managed to drill another hole out some feet awya from the confrontation and gotout of the cave. They raced away from it, and at some distance, they saw Tinky-Winky shooting Dumbledore:
"Dubledor!" cried Tinky-Wink. He picked a hand grenade, pulled the pin, threw it at Dumbledore and shout "Die BASTAAAAAAAARD!"
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" and the cave exploded, lauching debris all over the place.
"Fast Telletubbies," said Snape "HIDE!" and they did. A lot of rock felt from the sky and fumes and dust covered everywhere.
"Tinky-Winkyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" cried the three Telletubbies, and Laa-Laa tried to run and find her purple brother, but Snape prevented:
"No, you can’t! This place is unstable, we will die staying here!" cried Snape and the earth started to shake. They raced away from the crumbling Tubbydrome Supertronic, avoinding the falling rocks and the posion flower that attacked them.
After a while, they reached a safe haven.
Laa-Laa was very sad and crying much:
"Why? Why we let him die Snape?"
"Oh Laa-Laa, he saved us and was his desire that we escaped."
"But it is not fair…"
"I know…I know" and Snape hugged Laa-Laa, and the other Telletubbies did it too.
Now, these four heroes must find a way to save the Telletubbie planet from the horde of dementors that are trying to invade and conquer the place, slaving all of the millions of telletubbie inhabitants. Who is behind all this? Is Voldermort involved? And Snape and Laa-Laa? Will they be together till the end?
Snape says:
"Laa-Laa, I promisse, we will avenge your brother…"
The End?
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growthf · 1 year
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dine-in. # diluc x gn!reader
{+} every living thing enjoys some alone time with the person they love oh so much. the renowned tavern owner is no differnt–reacting much like a buzzed bee.
^^; handjob, teasing, semi-public!
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the cold wind of mondstadts harsh night flew through the window of dawn winery. your lover, diluc, sat at the dining table eating the wondrous meal adeline put together. much to his demise, your eyes never left his flushed face as he tried his best to finish his dinner.
when he was nearing his last bite, he felt your sly hand on his upper thigh. choosing to ignore it and continue on. that was, until your hand squeezed tightly on the flesh. his already red face turning deeper by the second.
“what do you think you’re doing?” he sighs. only getting a cheerful hum in response. his utensil clatters on the plate when he feels your hands brush over the prominent tent in his pants. his choked gasp doesn’t escape your ears once your hand pushes down on it. pushing diluc past his edge isn’t tough once you’ve got your skilled hand(s) on him. he’s still not used to your teasing ways, which serves as an advantage for you.
skillfully, you’re able to wiggle your hands into his pants and out pops his hard on. the tavern owner tries his best to muffle his sounds of pleasure for the fear of one of the maids catching him in such a shameful state. he almost falters when he feels your cold hand teasingly drawing lines from the baae to the tip of his cock. in no way was he prepared for such a mix of elements, letting the most beautiful of groans fall from his mouth.
both of you stare starstruck at the newly discovered noise. diluc praying to the archons that no one heard him while you continue your assault on his sex. switching from long, painfully slow strokes to playing with his bruising red tip. all of your actions were too much for him. he could feel his release building up by the second. one more stroke and he’d—
“master diluc?” adeline’s familiar voice makes the two of you jump at alert. you both turn to see the maid and nod a sign of ‘hello’ towards her. “shall i take this for you?” she reaches towards the dish in front of diluc and he hopes she won’t notice the very obvious action you two were committing just a moment before she entered.
adeline left not much later to the kitchen. you turn to diluc who is practically at the verge of tears by now. his face almost as red as his hair, and his cock just begging to be given release. he looks up at you pleadingly, and it takes everything in you not to just slam him on the table and go at it.
picking him up much like a bride, you rush to his large room. with the given privacy from behind the locked door, you’re able to do whatever you’d like with the red head. but before that, diluc really needs to be given what was taken from him before.
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solottrpgchronicles · 4 months
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3a. Secret Passage - The Last Tea Shop
Shop name: The Vagrant Tea Leaf
Supplies: sea salt, ginkgo leaf, giant puffball
Days: 11
Visitor: a minstrel
It's been a few days since the last visitor, and the insistent drizzle still isn't letting up.
While I'm lost in my daydreaming, the door opens, startling me.
"W-welcome!" I greet my new visitor. They're carrying a lute, so I assume they must be a musician of some kind.
Tired, yet exuding self-confidence, the visitor nods at me and sits down at the table.
As I brew a cup of Gumboot Tea for the mysterious stranger, I fire off my first question: "You look like someone who might have traveled a lot. Have you ever seen something unusual, and if so, what was it?"
"It must indeed show that I've traveled, and in fact, I feel so very tired. You could certainly say I've laid eyes on a myriad of peculiar folks, visited strange places, and encountered wondrous things. The oddest of all was perhaps that book…" They sigh, getting lost in their thoughts for a moment before resuming; "I was roaming the hallways of a castle, one night after a show. Truth be told, I sought the castle's kitchens, for I always feel a hollow pit in my stomach around midnight.
The surroundings were shrouded in darkness, and my only companion was a flickering torch. I stumbled over an unseen obstacle, my face nearly meeting the cold stone floor; right then, I heard the clanking of heavy armour and turned to see it sliding aside, along with the wall behind it. I had found a secret passage.
At that point, I couldn't resist, so I ignored the protests of my hungry stomach and ventured inside. I had only heard of secret passages in fantastic tales before; can you imagine the excitement I felt?
The passage led me to a chamber lined with bookshelves. A singular, small tome rested upon a reading desk at its center, open. Its pages were covered in intricate symbols, similar to runes.
As soon as I touched its pages, I was taken by a powerful vision: I suddenly had knowledge of everything happening within the walls of castle and outside, in the nearby town; I glimpsed into the lives of its denizens, witnessing their actions and emotions…
I was aghast. That was devilry of the highest order, and while I was tempted to turn the tale of my adventure into a song, my instincts urged me to put miles between me and that cursed place. Initially, at least. Then, I decided I couldn't abandon such a book."
"Fascinating," I comment earnestly, while bringing over the tea. "So, what did you do? Did you hide it?"
I hover around with my serving tray under my arm as they take a few sips and then reply.
"Hmm, marvellous tea. Yes, I deemed it prudent to steal and then hide the tome. Perhaps I should have followed my instincts instead and let it be; I might have lived longer, in that case.
Yet, as fate wanted, I had to perform again the following night - this was a private encore for the Sovereign and select kin; the night ended earlier than usual.
I feigned sleepiness, and soon after I sneaked out of my room. I recalled the location of the secret passage; identifying which floor tile to move was child's play. It seemed like a big flaw in design, but it certainly worked in my favour.
I infiltrated once again, grabbed the tome, and hastened away. I fled the castle using a makeshift rope woven from tied-together sheets.
After many days of traveling, I reached a vast lake and threw the accursed book into its depths, hoping no one would ever find it; perhaps the water damage would put a stop to the tome's evil magic.
Alas, the Sovereign noticed the theft, and it required little imagination to pinpoint the culprit. Admittedly, my scheme could have been more artfully devised... and now I find myself here."
They stare in the distance, theatrically, their soul clearly warmed up by the tea.
With a smile, I observe them stare at every little detail within the shop before leaving.
"I don't suppose you know my last customer?" I ask, as they stare at the portrait of the gambler.
"I do not, but I recognize the expression of someone who had a hard life. Well, I'll be off then, and thank you for the tea!"
They happily close the door behind them, grab the lute and play a song, the echo still lingering as they disappear in the warm drizzle.
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This is a playthrough of a solo TTRPG called The Last Tea Shop, by Spring Villager.
You can check it out on itch.io: https://springvillager.itch.io/last-tea-shop
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Thinking about how pathologic classic sets up this concept of gameplay as the player entering this world as a part of it and not automatically as a 'hero' character and then if you do well enough in it as a 'hero' character would then you are shown that everything you experience in the world is just two children playing in a sandbox with dolls, and that nothing you have experienced is real or true, but for that time you were playing as that character it was real and true.
Which adds another level of gameplay, as while some might call the idea of 'oh but it all wasn't real!!' some kind of cop-out, in reality you as the player are also acting as the children that created this world. Whatever is real for you as the player is the reality for that character. In the Bachelors route the logic of science is the reality and it works, everything else fails and the Bachelor 'wins'. In the Haruspex route, traditional medicine and cultural practices are the reality and that works, you 'win'. In the Changelings route this abstract idea of magic and fantastical concepts is the reality, and again you 'win'. Another character can only 'win' when you the player accept the others realities upon yourself and heal their bound, who fell ill only because you were not in control of them.
The more you play the game the more you are reinforcing this idea that the progression through those 12 days are as a result of you the player manipulating the world around you to make it more likely for that character to 'win' based on how they have interacted with the world through your control. You are doing the exact thing those children are doing, over and over, a game of make believe where you know its not real, but no one else seems to (besides Clara) and the knowledge of this causes the characters to despair at their own insignificance. It's very cosmis horror when you think about it. Clara is probably the only character to acknowledge this because she is still a child, she still is able to suspend disbelief and accept the fantastical nature of things, just as the player does when they boot up the game, which is also why her route is so out there and weird. Yes it has a lot lacking, but it also gives the player the feeling they have wanted, to be the 'hero' who is chosen to do all these wondrous things that no one else can that aren't based in reality, albeit at the cost of also being a child in the given world and therefore virtually completely defenseless and vulnerable.
None of this is even touching the various themes the game lays down for you (of which there are a lot) but when you add that extra layer on top it adds a new feeling to the playing experience. I was thinking about the opening theatre sequence and the line 'if we ourselves are to suffer deception, our hands are no longer tied' and what that means, and I felt that it meant that when you, the player, are decieved into believing that none of this is real, by treating it as a game, then you are free to do anything, there is nothing that can stop you from doing anything or even just, doing nothing. When you believe that everything is real (like the game wants you to, as that is the point of a 'game'), that this is a world, you feel you are bound by the laws of that world and therefore can't do what you need to or want to do because the world is expecting something from you. You can't steal or kill people because in the context of the world that is bad, but, theres also nothing really stopping you from doing that anyway and treating the worlds given consequences as just another obstacle to overcome, and Clara is the only one aware of that. That's my reading of it anyway.
The more I play pathologic the more I think about and read into the smaller things, or even things that might seem pointless to look into, but it makes me appreciate the game more and what it has going for it.
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