#anyway rules have also been polished up a bit as well

[midnxght-sweet-time]

╰─▸ ❝ [ ⚠ 18+ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁. ] ❞

» " 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑓 ! " ◥

➤ 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬.

∷ 𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 ▼

In a desperate act of hunger, you broke the Queen of hearts rule #089 : You must not eat the queen's tarts without her permission. Even as a non member of Heartslabyul, do you really think you could get away with such atrocity?

∷ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝚃𝚆 ▼

Suspense. ▪︎ Reader making dumb decisions. ▪︎ NSFW. ▪︎ Smut. ▪︎ Choking/use of collar. ▪︎ Overstimulation. ▪︎ Raw/unprotected sex ▪︎ Possessive sex. ▪︎ Angry sex. ▪︎ Dumbification. ▪︎ Oral sex. ▪︎ Cock-drunk/pussy-drunk. ▪︎ Squirting. ▪︎ Creampie. ▪︎ You get fold to a mating press. ▪︎ You're also being stuffed like a turkey. ▪︎ Rip your legs your never walking again. ▪︎ Riddle is sexually fustrated. ▪︎ Not proofread. ▪︎ Please I wrote this during English class–

— ● ✎ Note :

Listen to me— I had been suggested a reel of that one scene of Alice in Wonderland from the live action and from that I somehow got this big brain idea to commit to it. For those who seen it ya'll should know where this came from. This is actually my first time writing smut– in a more descriptive narrative sense, to those uhhhh horny connoisseurs, I'd like some feedback if any thx qwq. Anyways, have fun reading sweeties ♡

"Someone has stolen my tarts!!!"

The shocking sound of the doors being slammed open with such violent force made you swallow any comfort you had before and replace it with dread.

The once lively room of friends now went silent and still like a sudden interrupted record player. It wasn't the fact that the door was nearly knocked out of its hinges that scared everyone— no, whether that poor door were to ever move again was the least of anyones' worries; it was the fact that someone's or everyone's heads will roll to the ground… metaphorically speaking.

This situation however seems to differ from every other; of all the times you have stood still as a common bystander that got caught in the crossfire, this was entirely different.

Sweat rolled down the side of your face as your heart thumps uncontrollably as if looking for an escape. How your terrified heart screamed at you to run or hide and cower any way out of the dorm leader's piercing sharp gaze that bore through every person in this room all at once. Your lips straighten and your teeth sink into the gums behind it as a vain attempt at calming yourself from the beast that's approaching.

The taste of strawberry on your lips seems to be indigestible now…

The heels of polished boots were more than a warning— they were unspoken yet clear threats to anyone who even dares think of moving an inch besides him. Those gray-blue tinted orbs that flitz from one side to the other. Eyes furrowed at a certain orange haired male that had his strands standing on end with a mere click of his tongue.

"Trappola."

The first suspect was called. Ace immediately shot up from his lousy posture and stood tall before the vicious queen as if a card soldier on command. "Did you steal my tarts?" Like a man being held at gunpoint, Ace took a moment to keep himself steady before speaking, "No dorm leader." The eyes of Riddle stayed on him for a few seconds before continuing on the straight path of students to interrogate the next.

"Spades."

The other pair of cards was called. Unlike the heart, the spade was more self-assured. Deuce eyes at Riddle with an equally bold glare. He was more well adjusted to the situation as seen in his confident expression. Yet the slight shiver of his fingers and legs were opposing this. "I did not eat your tarts, dorm leader." That was all it took for Riddle to look satisfied with his answer. An approving nod was given as Deuce was left off the hook easily. It almost made your eyes twitch in envy.

Those bluish gray eyes went back to scanning the lounge of students. The look on Riddle's face seems to soften a bit now, but it was a mere facade that gives a false sense of security. The tightening of his fist was a dead give away to you that puts you on high alert, it was clear that he was still very pissed off and is dead set on finding the culprit. This caused gears in your head to start turning as you suddenly had a stray warning thought. You noticed how… out of character the tyrant suddenly was. You know how lenient he has been ever since his Overblot, but how he takes his time in searching for the tart thief feels more calculated.

Everyone knew Riddle doesn't take lightly to anyone stealing anything from him, especially his precious tarts. So for him to be slow and steady in this pace felt so off. It felt like he already knew who the culprit was and was simply going about a routine of interrogation. Maybe to coax the truth out of anyone by crushing them under the pressure like a bug at the bottom of his heels.

It sure had you sitting on the edge of your seat as if you were watching a horror movie. Your back sinking further into the velvet plush cushion of the seat as if you were trying to sink into it to get out of this situation. The way his intimidating presence prances around the room like a hunting predator had your eyes glued to his every move as you prayed internally for him to move on even if you knew the off chance of him ever letting this one broken rule slide was undoubtedly little to none.

As if the universe decided to screw you over, Riddle pretty much ignores the last two of the remaining dorm members and goes straight to you. His supposed short form towering over yours as he stood tall. A shadow was cast in front of you and Riddle from how the looming physical threat was preventing any light from comforting you at all. The only 'lumination' to this unwelcoming cover was the look in his eyes that metaphorically shines as he glares down at you and the anxiety burning through your entire being. Slowly did his face edge to yours as he bent down to take a good look at you. A slight widening takes over his eyes as if he wants you to take a good look at his pupils that had a glow of rage and suspicion. His lips move slowly as every word places an invisible pressure on your chest at the impending doom.

"Did you steal my tart?"

Gulping down whatever was left of your pride, your lips barely parted and were about to let out only hush whispers until the red tyrant spoke once again. "Open your mouth wide and speak, darling." It was like a purr and a growl. How his voice was harsh but the word 'wide' draped along his throat.

Inhaling a deep breath as if the enraged boy stole your breath away with just his mere presence. You gathered yourself and repeated the words that the previous suspects have heaved out, "No. Riddle."

But it was barely enough. Meanings behind those words were half baked and hardly convincing to the red queen's ears. As no matter how innocent and petite Riddle's short form may look, his mind was far from being naive. One brow rose up as he scanned your entire expression, making your breathing unsteady once more. It was so nerve-wracking how he was inching towards you. Those wide mad eyes coming closer and closer.

You looked to the side as your panicked gaze focused at the heart and the spade markings on the side of your friends' faces. Your pupils shake as if begging them to say or to help you. But no matter how desperate you may look, everyone stood still and watched as if they were just statues that were glued in place; unmoving and never dared utter a word, either by the fear of being targeted next or perhaps with a blank mind and no plans to save your sorry ass.

But as your sight shifted back, all your vision was covered with faded red of eye shadow on fair skin, as small locks of hair in the same red shade brushed against your eyelashes. The feeling of soft smooth lips connecting with your dry ones was what overwhelmed your senses. It was then you realize you were trapped within the tyrant's hold. Something slippery glides across the dry skin at the side of your mouth all the way to the other end with a slow sensual lick, wetting the surface and picking up the lingering flavor and syrup that you left behind.

A gentle touch on your cheek that almost caught you off guard. It caresses your skin gently yet holds you in place with how those fingernails gripped at your skin like an anchor and dragged it down to your chin. Your breath was stolen once again as you finally realized the unexpected osculation was a way of finding the evidence to your thievery.

As he finally pulls away with a thin trail of spittle connecting from his end of his tongue to your lips, you didn't notice how red and hot your cheeks burned with how fast your heart race; either from the fear of being caught or the sudden display of affection that made you almost forget you had a literal audience that starred at you two with wide eyes as if you were a victim placed on an unfair trial. But it doesn't seem Riddle was all too bothered by the latter.

All his focus was on you, furrowed anger displayed on his face as his eyes bore through yours once again but this time with a hint of an indescribable emotion that you can't seem to decipher. A small wet puckered noise rings in your ears as you notice that same wet muscle glided along his lips the same way it did with yours. With one final inhale, he slowly inches backwards with soft spoken words you didn't know you'd be terrified of hearing:

"It's strawberry jam."

Lewd sounds of skin slapping together was drowned with the dizzying sense of pleasure leaving you gasping for air and crying out incoherent sobs. The way your body jolts up with each pound of his hips against your ass, has you gripping onto the fabric of Riddle's tie that bound your hands together in a cute little bow.

"I w-was just hungry– I–"

Your words were cut off by the harsh slap and the knock of the tip of his girthy cock ramming up your cervix, shutting you up. The sound of wet squelches echoes through the room and those bluish gray eyes bore holes through yours with such intimidating presence. "Stop making excuses." The red head sneers, flickers of anger and hunger still laced in his eyes that made you shiver accompanied by his gloved hands that gripped onto your waist securely as he forced you through his harsh relentless thrusts.

He wouldn't hear you. The only thing he took into account is the non stop moaning that he can drive them out of you. You were just hungry. You would have asked for his permission or known it was his if he wasn't away doing other things, cooped up in his room for who knows how long.

…Or perhaps that bitter thought was what led you to spite him and stole the tart in hopes you could get away with it. You were planning to replace it, you swear! But Riddle would never listen and insist on punishing you tenfold.

You shift your head to the side, your neck aching with how tightly the collar squeezed at your throat. "Please— so- s'too much–" your senses have already been overloaded. You lost track of time with how long Riddle has been stuffing you with his cock. You could barely register his words as he muttered, "And you are to take it like how you took my tart." He has fucked you well past tears, past the point your voice have started to grow more hoarse. Your legs that once wrapped around his waist so obediently have now fallen limp; much to the dorm leader's annoyance, he had to hold them down for you.

"You don't know how to behave do you?" The tyrant grunts. The table rocking off all papers and pens he worked so hard to organize just to make space for you. He continues to feed you his girth, vigorously plunging into you that had you seeing stars. Fuck. His too much— you would beg and cry for him to stop if he didnt keep interrupting you with well-aimed thrusts that kept you moaning or even demand you shut up and take his cock like the good little slut you are.

It felt so good but the overstimulation made you feel like you could just burst.

He was ruthless in his punishment, making sure to make this as mind-breakingly numb as possible. The infamous collar was chained tightly on your neck to make sure you were reminded of your misdeeds with how little air you get to take in. Your mind is turned to mush with how nicely his length rubs against the plush walls of your leaking hole. Juices that were already squirted out mixed with cum that overflowed have been leaking down to the crack of your ass and to your back. Your sore legs are gripped so tightly as you've been folded into an overused mating press.

You felt his hand grabbing your jaw and slowly turning your head to face him. The touch was oddly gentle in contrast to the rough treatment you've been given. His eyes now gleam their color at you with a more softer look than that furrowed glare from before, yet it was still just as frightening with how sternly expressed he looks at you.

"Keep your eyes on me. You have yet to apologize for your actions."

Another harsh single slam against you, telling you he has reached another high. His tip pulsates and you moan at the feeling of another wave of cum pumping you full again. His cock sliding in and out subtly to get a bit more friction to stimulate the ejaculation, filling you up again with another load.

You heaved out a desperate gasp, "Ri-Riddle– 'm sorry."

Another savage slap of his balls on your ass. He starts fucking you again. Pushing you onto the table. He bends down to sink his teeth on your collarbone, planting another bite besides the dozens that are already littered on you from neck to shoulder, some even on your thighs. He holds onto that part of your skin like a rabid animal that had been starved— perhaps he was seeing as how you took the one thing other than you he was looking forward to after work. Your cunt already all puffy and swollen from the abuse, yet it sucks in his dick as if yearning for more.

"Queen of hearts– rule- fuck, rule #053. You w-will replace what you stole— but I want… your integrity."

Inhaling your scent, his head is still buried in your neck. Your hands that were bound have given up the struggle and instead clawed at your own palm. The fabric felt like it was part of you now. You felt like a folded origami with how long you've stayed in such a position. Squirming underneath your queen that holds you so possessively, completely at his mercy. His girth and cream stretching you and keeping you full, you're not sure if you want him to ever pull out and be emptied.

You can feel every heavy vein that drags along your slippery slick walls. You were so very sensitive, panting like a dog. Perhaps this was your third— no… fifth orgasm? You really can't recall anymore when you're squirting out like a hose. Your juices glistened and coats his whole length. Lubricating it so well his thrusts were so smooth but still so rough.

"You are to obey these rules. Understood?"

"Y–yes-!"

Your vision gets hazy as you keep rocking on his dick, your cunt being constantly destroyed from the inside out. You were completely fucked dumb. Riddle really has no intention of stopping until your sweet little mind can think of nothing but the pure stifling bliss his putting you through or til the clock strikes midnight and your pussy is left overflowing with his cum as a mark of your discipline.

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #twst riddle x reader #riddle x yuu #riddle x y/n #riddle x mc #twst #twisted wonderland #twst smut #twst riddle smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x yuu #riddle rosehearts x mc

[hyatoro]

Hello! Firstly, i LOVE your writing! It's so nice to read and it's very enjoyable. This is also my first ask with you. Unfortunately I am not too sure whether this counts as an outline or a headcannon (from my understanding headcannons are about the character itself and outlines are more like headcannons for the scenario but im not sure??? maybe this is a outline???). No worries if you don't to of course!

Anyway, may I have an NSFW about Hwang Minso spending his heat with reader? Especially if it's just really sweet and fluffy in a way. I think he deserves the tenderness, y'know? Bonus if the affection is like a warm blast of sunshine on a dreary day. (I imagine, Alpha reader is being sweet and fluffy and just really gentle but the unwavering attention and tenderness is overwhelming for the guy and so sweet it burns in a way. I want the guy to be overwhelmed by it. I imagine he's begging for more and more even if he's overstimulated though reader would stop in a heartbeat if he needed them to)

Again, no pressure!

Headcanons are just fast fun facts with no real timeline in mind. The scenario “outlines” are basically what I’ve been doing where it’s a scenario, but I don’t put in the full effort of making it a fic even if it may seem like one. 

The definitions are loose as hell and I tend to just write what I want. The two reasons why I have the outline distinction is because I don’t need the pressure of cranking out a fully polished work and it also shows who reads my rules. Thank you by the way for asking!

The writing below probably leans more towards full blown fic but the difference is that I would’ve gone into a lot more detail for one instead of an ‘outline’.

Onto the actual content!

Hwang Minsu

The man couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far. It all started with a chance encounter where he met you. The light of his life, and the reason why he evolved from the mindless zombie he was. 

You accepted him into your life. Even after you caught him pulling your empty can out of the recycling. Even when you were initially weirded out, you gave him another chance. 

You’d even asked him out. On a date! And then you asked if he wanted to date you too! 

Honestly he questioned it a bit, scared that it was all some sort of sick joke life was playing on him. But you showed him consistency and proved yourself reliable, not that he had any doubts in you as a person. You were perfect. 

It was amazing, having schedules that were similar. The two of you took to the nights like it was your own kingdom and every night with you was memorable. 

His favorite so far was the time you two went to karaoke. You watched him with adoration, a sight he had to familiarize himself with, as he sang his heart out badly. He knew he wasn’t a great singer and it didn’t faze you one bit. You were just happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so in front of you. 

And when you pulled him into your lap, rewarding him with kisses as you chose your next song, he knew there was no turning back for him. Not when you were all that was ahead. 

Now here he was, opening the door to you. Well, a giant pile of your clothes and blankets hiding your face. But you were behind it all. 

He shuffled out of the way and let you in, catching any garments that fell to the ground behind you. His eyes widened however when you dropped everything unceremoniously to the ground. 

“Just arrange everything how you want it, baby. Let me know if you need help.”

The ugly face he made as he held back tears made you laugh affectionately, stepping towards him to cradle his face gently and kiss his forehead. His face got even more scrunched up as he placed his hands on yours, holding them there. 

Once he got over that surge of emotions he enlisted your help in making his nest, the most elaborate he’d ever made in his life. Considering what had happened when around the time he started to get more intense heats he never really had the guidance nor the chance to go all out. 

You help him arrange everything so that it’s cozy but roomy enough to fit two people. His mattress was on the floor so it made everything easier. 

As he got comfortable you left the apartment and he sat up, panicking a little wondering where you were going. But you quickly returned with a bunch of food, drinks, and other supplies for his heat. His face scrunched again as he pouted, almost telling you that you didn’t have to, but the look on your face stops him. Instead, he opens his arms and you crawl into his nest, kissing his cheeks as you two lay down together. 

He’s content to lay in your arms as you fall asleep, awaiting for the wave to come crashing. He sleeps easily so you’re more than welcome to watch TV or scroll through your phone. All he needed at that moment was your warmth and scent. 

When he wakes up he’s burning and he’s half-expecting you to not be there. For this all to have been some sort of sick dream that his heat-addled mind concocted. But you’re there. As real as ever, and he whines loudly when he buries himself into your neck, grinding on you.

You stir awake easily enough and your mind slowly catches up with the fact that your boyfriend is in heat. When you finally realize what’s happening you get up and immediately get to work. Your hand slides under his baggy t-shirt, caressing his burning skin as he whines even more. When you help him out of it you don’t leave a spot untouched, for which he is grateful for. 

Then you palm him through his pants and he cries out, already begging you for more. To hurry up and get rid of all the clothes on both of you. Ever the kind partner, you oblige.

He’s panting and spread out on the mattress, surrounded by both of your belongings. 

His scent is the strongest it’s ever been and you pounce on him, kissing him senseless as your nose welcomes the pleasant notes of passionfruit. He’s so lovely under your touch, moaning and whining for you, hips constantly bucking up for more. 

Despite how much his body naturally prepared itself you still reach for your supplies, adding more lube to his hole. His eyes practically turn into hearts when he sees you stroking your alpha cock with even more lube. 

His hole fluttered and his cock twitched as he shifted his hips closer to you in an attempt to put you inside. 

Ever merciful, you test him with a few fingers, and he mewls at the way you spread them, feeling how you stretch his pussy like that. But he’s impatient and tells you to please stop teasing him. You’re not, but you can understand where he’s coming from. You mentally note to show him what teasing really feels like another day. 

Thanks every being in existence and every moment in history for how it led to the moment where you finally shove it in. Yeah, he’s dramatic. 

Instantly clings to you. His hands grasp at your back and you’re grateful he keeps his nails short as he scratches your back to fuck him harder. 

He needs the first one hard and fast, he explains. And you listen. Your precious little omega deserves the world during his heat. 

His cries fill the small apartment as he cums quickly, spurting out white ropes in between you. And just as fast as he came he tells you to keep going. You’re still good to go so you keep it up. 

You guys spend the next few hours fucking on every surface in the apartment until you end back up on the mattress, where his legs shake and he’s got cum dripping from both his cock and pussy. When he tries to ask for more, you chuckle and shake your head, telling him that he can barely move and that it’s time for rest. 

You use what’s left of your own energy cleaning him up and changing the heavily soiled sheets to get him comfortable, urging him to sit up to eat and drink before falling back asleep. 

Despite having asked for more, he was more than content, absolutely satisfied on all fronts. His red butt and bruised hips were neat little reminders of the mess you two made.

When you finish cleaning up from that first bout of his heat you rejoin him in the nest, peppering kisses all over his face until he sighs happily into your neck again. Because you were content and calm your scent was too, and it worked wonders in relaxing his muscles as he melted into you. 

He fell back asleep, amazed that he knew you’d be there for him when he woke up again. 

#Sub!yandere #dom!reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #dom reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #x reader #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha reader #Hwang Minsu #nightshift!yandere

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

hello!!! sosoosososo sw rebels. gn reader and ezra and reader have a sibling relationship. in my mind its like zeb and ezra but tamer .. if you can somehow fit hurt/comfort into the story thatd be fun!!! but ty for reading and doing this request if you do!!! 🫶🫶

I don't know if this is tamer than Ezra and Zeb but it's kinda like a mashup of Ezra and Zeb and Ezra and Sabine. That being said be ready for my favorite Star Wars ship and the parents of the Ghost family to be very good parents.

Also Hera's voice actress also voices Black Canary on Young Justice and between this and the Shadow Of A Bluejay series I think you can tell I want her to be my mom.

Am I slightly projecting? Is the reader Autistic coded? Who knows but I found myself projecting my own communication issues on Mandalorians so...

Platonic Ezra Bridger x Mandolorian!Reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

Masterlist

"Y/N"...

"Y/N"...

The doors to your room opened but you didn't look up, you were after all very comfortable on your top bunk polishing your blaster.

"You know one micro movement and I can splatter your insides on that wall right?" You asked, still not looking up from your blaster.

"You wouldn't do that" Ezra said confidently.

"I might not mean to, seeing as you keep coming in here without knocking" You told the slightly younger boy. He rolled his eyes.

"I was calling your name" Ezra said.

"And I wasn't listening" You replied.

"Well that's not my fault" He said.

"What do you want anyway shorty?" You asked and that got to him.

"We are the same height!" He exclaimed.

"No we're not" You said calmly.

"It is by half a centimeter, it's the same height" He insisted.

"No. It's not" You reiterated.

"You know what, forget it" Ezra said, storming out of your room.

"Oh come on, you know I'm joking" You said, finally putting the blaster away and going after Ezra.

It had only been a few months since the kid joined, maybe you were a bit too comfortable with your teasing but you thought it was a game.

"Ezra come back here!" You yelled after the little streak of blue hair you saw running out of the open hull of the Ghost.

"What's going on here exactly?" Hera asked, she'd heard yelling and saw Ezra run off.

"He just ran off!" You told her but she raised a brow in question.

"Okay, maybe there was some teasing but he came into my room without knocking. That's against the rules" You told her.

"You gotta let up on him, he's not used to... well to you yet. And you can be a lot sometimes kid" She said. You supposed she was right. She was far from the first person to tell you that.

Still you looked out at the direction that Ezra ran to. You were parked by a mountain with some caves on Lothal, decently far from any major cities and very much in the middle of nowhere so he had to come back sooner or later... right?

Later came and he still wasn't back. It was getting closer to sunset and you were getting worried.

"He'll be back before sundown, don't worry so much" Kanan told you as you paced the hull of the Ghost. He still wasn't back. He must have been really mad at you.

You grumbled, "I didn't mean to upset him so much, really I— I just—"

"Hey" Kanan said, lightly shaking your shoulder, "He'll come back and you'll tell him just that." he said.

Do you really think he'll come back?" You asked.

"It's not like he'd spend the night in a cave" Kanan said. Well nighttime rolled in and Ezra still wasn't back.

"That's it. I'm going to find him" You said, grabbing a flashlight and walking out.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Zeb asked but Kanan just shrugged.

"They're big kids, they'll figure this out themselves" He said, "Besides when was the last time it was this quiet on here?" He asked, kicking back and laying his feet on the holotable.

Chopper beeped sassily.

"Yeah well no one asked for your opinions chop" Kanan retorted.

You started by going in the direction you saw Ezra run in hours ago but it's been so long he could practically be anywhere.

"Ezra!" You called out.

"Ezra! It's me! Can you please come back?" You yelled out into the mountains and heard it echoing back.

"Great" You grumbled. You kept walking, the flashlight and the stars being the only ones lighting your way.

You eventually found Ezra, sitting in the entrance of a shallow cave carved into one of the mountains.

"Ezra?" You asked and he scooted away from you.

"What do you want?" He asked and you stopped. Every step closer to him you took he kept scooting away on the floor of the cave.

"It's dark..." You said, trailing off.

"Yeah, and what do you care?" He asked.

"Well you weren't back and everyone was worried" You answered.

"So where's everyone else?" He asked.

"Well..."

"Just leave me alone." He said.

"Look, I get it, your mad at me and maybe a crossed a line but can you please just come back to the Ghost? It's dangerous out here" You tried to tell him.

"I'm fine. I made it out here all on my own before and I can do it again" Ezra said.

"Yeah but you don't have to. Come on Ezra, let's just go home and—"

"The Ghost is not my home!" He yelled and it echoed through the cave.

"Ezra"

"I get it, you don't like me, you don't have to pretend. Just go away and leave me alone" Ezra said, turning his back to you.

"You know what? Fine! Die alone in a cave for all I care, I'm going back to the Ghost! You do whatever you want" You said and stormed off.

When you came back to the Ghost alone Kanan looked a bit worried.

"You didn't find him?" He asked.

"Oh I found him but if he wants to be a jerk he can be a jerk in a cave." You said, walking past him and straight back to your room.

Hera, who had been sitting beside Kanan looked at him.

"Do you wanna take the moody teenager or the runaway kid?" She asked and Kanan sighed.

"I'll take the kid" He said and went out to find Ezra meanwhile Hera went to knock on your door.

It didn't take Kanan long to find Ezra, still holed up in the cave where you found him, throwing pebbles at the walls of the cave in frustration and grumbling to himself.

"Hey" Kanan said.

"Hey" Ezra replied and Kanan took a seat on the ground o the cave.

"You had us a bit worried back there" Kanan said.

"Yeah well I only go where I'm wanted." Ezra said.

"We want you on the Ghost. You know that" Kanan told him.

"Y/N obviously doesn't" The boy replied.

"Sit down" Kanan told him and Ezra turned around.

"What for?" He asked.

"Just do it" Kanan said and Ezra eventually did, sitting down beside the older Jedi.

"Why do you think Y/N doesn't want you around?" Kanan asked his padawan.

"Cause" Ezra replied.

"Cause what?" Kanan asked.

"Cause they're always such a jerk. I mean, I just wanted to ask if they wanted to hang out and they were—" "Being Y/N?" Kanan asked.

"Well yeah" Ezra replied.

"Listen, I'm gonna tell you something but you have to promise not to tell anyone I told you" Kanan said.

"Why?" Ezra asked.

"Cause if Y/N found out I told you they'd have my head" Kanan replied humorously before clearing his throat a bit.

"Y/N's a bit rougher around the edges than the rest of us, well except maybe Chopper" Kanan began.

"You're telling me" Ezra grumbled.

"But there's a good reason for it. They lost everything when they were really young and the Empire took over Mandalore." Kanan explained, "They survived by being tough. By not showing any weakness and the verbal sparring just came along naturally"

"So they're trying to show me they're tough?" Ezra asked.

"No, they're showing you that they think you're tough and that they care about you" Kanan explained.

"They don't talk that way to people they aren't close to or that they think are weak. And sometimes they take it too far but if anything that's because they think you can take it" He continued.

"So what? All those things are jokes to him? Cause they're not funny" Ezra told him.

"Then tell them that." Kanan told Ezra.

Meanwhile on the Ghost Hera knocked on your door.

"Y/N? May I come in?" She asked.

"Don't bother" You told her but the door still opened and Hera still came in.

"Kanan went to go get Ezra" She said.

"Good for him" You grumbled.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Hera asked and you sighed.

"He hates me" You told her.

"Ezra doesn't hate you, he's upset but he doesn't hate you" Hera said. climbing up to sit beside you on your bunk.

"Yes he does. I went too far again and he hates me" You told her and she sighed.

Ezra didn't reply, he stared off into the dark sky outside the cave.

"They went looking for you when you didn't come back. They didn't mean to go too far" Kanan told Ezra, "And sometimes Y/N doesn't always know how far to take it but trust me kid, they care about you. Heck, they care about you enough to go after you and bring you back. That's not nothing"

"Yeah, I guess" Ezra relented.

"And you care about them too" Kanan said, "Otherwise this wouldn't have bothered you so much so come on, let's get back home"

"Yeah, alright" Ezra relented.

When Kanan and Ezra got back you were awkwardly sitting beside Hera on the couch in the Ghost's lounge. Ezra didn't look particularly confident either as he walked in with Kanan.

...

"Hey" You said after a decently long silence.

"Hi" Ezra Ezra replied.

Kanan and Hera looked at each other. "Alright, we'll be in the cockpit if you need anything" Hera said, dragging Kanan along with her.

"So..." You said and Ezra took a seat beside you.

"Yeah" He said.

"I'm sorry" You both said at the same time and you chuckled.

"I didn't mean to go overboard on the teasing" You said.

"And I didn't mean to be so mean in the cave" He said.

"It's fine, I kind of deserved it. Besides I didn't actually want you to die alone in a cave" You told him.

"You know we're kind of like the siblings in this weird crew" Ezra told you.

"I've never had a younger sibling sibling before" You told him.

"And I've never had an older sibling before" Ezra said.

"So, siblings?" You asked and put your hand out.

"Siblings" Ezra agreed and shook your hand.

#gn reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader #platonic #the ghost crew x reader #kanan jarrus x hera syndula #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #hera and kanan are such parents #sibling behavior but make it we actually haven't lived together our whole lives #possibly autistic reader #is this autist? #at this point I am questioning myself so much

[tvbbosdarling]

ranboo fae cg headcannons:)

Fae!Ranboo Caregiver Hcs

Warnings: None!

Notes: AHH MY FIRST REQUEST :DD And this person is very lovely~ so not alot of little gear in this fic, this time on purpose, but still hope it's enjoyable~ Thank you for your request!! I didn't have too many ideas for Ranboo ^^" Plus my tumblr is being so wonky >:( But I hope you enjoy this my lovely requester!~

- When travelers come by, the village makes sure to give them one rule. Do not enter the forest. They try their best to make a clear path so they don't get lost, The fae live in the forest don't you know? Creatures who will trick you. With pretty eyes and smooth skin followed with tempting words, So tempting you'll ignore the fluttering wings behind them..

- Ranboo knows the village people know this, so to sense someone in his forest confused him to say the least. Even more when he sees how.. Well.. Small you are. He feels a strange urge to pick you up, his mind pulling at him about it. Is it your height that makes you seem so small to him? He thinks there's something more..

- When you come close to his mushroom ring, he appears gently. Sitting on the ground with fluttering wings, and wow are mortals always this small??? "Are you okay? You seem lost.. Do you need help traveler?"

- He may be.. Well, more nervous when it comes to this stuff but he has a job to do. He tries to trick you into giving your name up and when you manage to avoid getting tricked by him, he watches you leave.. And wonders how old you are.

- Then you come back, Ranboo's surprised but hey- it's very lonely in the forest and other faes are only so interesting, but you are something new. Something interesting.. So anyway, you two, similar to my Fae!Wilbur hcs, are bound to start growing close once you keep coming back!!

- Now, Ranboo doesn't mean to baby you. But you are oh so small and he can't help but ask questions. "Have you always been this small?", "You are so tiny- Wait, can I see your hand?" So if you end up slipping because of the comments, then congrats! You now have your very own fae caregiver!!

- Fae!Ranboo as a caregiver is anxious, he's very overprotective and always, always carries bandaids with him. And yes they are Disney princess themed. But after a bit of him taking care of you, he'll start to relax but he still carries the bandaids with him!! Just incase.

- Ranboo actually makes his own nail polish out of berries and some other ingredients!!! (fae magic probably) so he's only too happy to let you paint his nails, or paint in general!! If you wanna get crafty, he will make you some paints and let you paint on pieces of wood.. Although he does triple check to make sure the wood is splinter proof, woo fae magic!!

- Ranboo loves to cradle you, sometimes he'll sneak up behind you and just pick you up, spinning you all around as he laughs. He loves to tease you, especially if you giggle with him. "Hmmm??? Why are you giggling- Okay. Well if you're gonna giggle, then you need to know about another fae custom.. Once fae hear an adorable baby laugh then the tickle monster comes out! What do you mean I'm lying? Fae can't lie silly~ so It's true-"

- Fae naturally attract animals, but Ranboo naturally attracts cats. So sometimes when you two are playing a cat will sneak up, rubbing themself against Ranboo and you.. There's one particular cat Ranboo named 'Garfield', that tends to supervise you if Ranboo has to look away to grab more berries. He's basically Ranboo's spy-

- The cats adore you. The cats especially adore when you are smaller because they love to lay on your lap and purr while you and Ranboo are cuddling, the purring is very calming and they lick you very gently- Also if you ever cry when your smaller, The cats will come running and will lick you to try and soothe you.

- Ranboo tends to call you his 'flower', or 'honey'. "Ah, What did you find flower?.. Ohh it's a very adorable ladybug!" "Honeyy~ Its sleepy time~ Are you running- honey we can't- stop giggling! Alright fine. Then the big mean papa is gonna come get you~"

- While Ranboo doesn't have a very good memory, he does remember everything you tell him. About your stuffies, about your favorite color, your favorite food- Its actually weirdly incredible how he remembers all of it. It's written all in his book, or your book. He made you a book that is customized for you !! You get to color in it, put fun facts in it.. It also has the more basic things, some rules and things!

- Ranboo loves to make silly voices for stuff animals, and he will randomly make the most dramatic stories for them?? Which also means he'll do finger puppets for you. "How dare you Garfield! You ate the lasagna.. When you said Mickey ate it!.. I am betrayed. Devastated.." "that's so strange, because while I ate the lasagna.. I know you ate the brownies!" *insert gasp*

- Ranboo is definitely more of a dad caregiver, which means he happily accepts all titles. Daddy, Dada, Bubba, Papa, Boo. He's happy with all of them and his smile gets brighter when ever you refer to him with your title of choice!!

- Ranboo tries to be educational, I mean small brains need to learn right? But sometimes you look so adorable and he doesn't have the heart to tell you if you get something wrong. "Mhmm, and what color is this?.." if it's blue and you say it's purple, Ranboo will simply nod and agree with you. "G-Good job honey!-"

- Nap time is definitely his favorite time though, he loves to cuddle. He especially loves being able to wrap his arms around you as you two look at the sky, he will rub your hands in a gentle massage as he hums. He isn't much of a singer, but if you want a bedtime story- he can definitely do that. "Hm? A story? Sure, let's see.."

"There once was a papa kitty and a baby kitty, the papa kitty loved the baby kitty very much.."

#age regression #dsmp #dsmp × reader #dream smp × reader #Ranboo × reader #dsmp agere #dream smp agere #agere caregiver #sfw agere #caregiver!ranboo #Cg!ranboo

[nerves-nebula]

Are you ever you ever insecure about your art? And could you explain you answer to that?

Venting to you now

Drawing has taken a lot of effort for me, more than usual recently. I started working on something I originally felt really passionate about. It's more common for me to very quickly give up or get bored so I was really excited to be able to post some artwork. But I ended up not liking the result and I'm not sure if I'm willing to try something else. I've given up on trying in a lot of parts of life to try and save energy to do something I thought I was passionate about (art) but I am still lacking the motivation. The reason I reason I really wanted to share it was because I'm terrible with self-motivation. If I can't make at least one person genuinely go 'oh, neat' even for just a second and even if they soon forgot later, I'd feel like I'd have a reason to keep living (to keep making art). If the only people who'd see it end up disappointed I'd want to disappear.

It's not what art should be. I know it's value is like a person's. It's worth more than how someone reacts to it, right? But I can't apply that rule to myself. I should seek support from the people who 'know' and actually care about me, but I don't want their appreciation. I want some imagery status of a 'good artist' because that's what seems to give me dopamine.

I also wanted to mention how much I admire how open you are with your struggles. I want to be the same but I'm scared of people thinking less of me. I know that's dumb but I don't know what I'm good for if I can't make people happy. If I'm not going to be content with myself I want to not be a nuisance at least. I like to think that if I stopped caring about my impression on people, I'd be better off. But I'm scared that I'd have to learn to like myself. I don't like myself and I have no interest in liking myself. I don't see the point.

oh boy, this is gonna be a long one. also, don't take anything i say too seriously, i don't know your situation and I'm barely an adult. anyway, response under the cut

soo lately I'm less insecure about my art and more frustrated when things don't come out well. but i still post that shit !!! I'm still insecure if i'm doing, say, a project for homework, and i don't think i did as well as I could have, but in my personal artistic endeavors it's more about getting it done than it being perfect (for example, my webcomic! my motto is any comic made is better than no comic made and if people don't like that then it wasn't for them in the first place)

the thing about me is that drawing and art and stories is all i've ever had. it's my main form of interacting with the world. these days i make art the same way I live, which is to say in spite of wanting to kill myself. I would LIKE if my art was perfect, and i would LIKE to not be in pain. but i AM in pain and i have to live anyway, and my art ISN'T perfect but i'll make it anyway.

and i like when other people's art isn't perfect either, when it isnt super polished. I think that definitely helped. seeing artists whose work i fell head over heels for when it's never been more than sketches and a bit of shading. it really cemented in my mind that it isn't art being technically perfect that makes it worth while.

i've gotten a lot of people saying kind things to me, saying how much they enjoy my art and my blog in general. and though it doesn't always help, it sometimes inspires me to imagine the number of people who appreciate my stuff who might never mention it to me. I myself am used to lurking and not interacting very much (a habit I'm trying to change since I know artists & creators love feedback most of the time) i know it sucks to not know if anyone gives a shit for sure, but you really can't make that your only reason for doing art, cuz half the time you prolly wont even know if your art deeply affects people or not. it's fine to want that attention but you gotta have something else goin on too, at least I do.

i also know the fear of worrying that you'll lock yourself into something you don't want to do, or something you'll lose passion for. for me, I generally rotate a cast of characters & interests around for years a time before making significant progress. There were spans of times where I'd go years without thinking about loose stitches, but none of that time developing other stories & characters was wasted. it gave loose stitches enough time to properly cook, and the story is still developing under my hands as i draw it, influenced by my other stories and other characters.

it's ok to abandon something and pick it up again years later, or to never pick it up again at all. it's ok to hate the way something turns out but to keep making it anyway because you have to move forward (at least, I do)

moving forward despite not liking the original product is the only way to progress, I think. I don't super like a lot of the first pages of loose stitches but I'm still grateful that past-me posted them because that means present me is at page 76 !!

If I can't make at least one person genuinely go 'oh, neat' even for just a second and even if they soon forgot later, I'd feel like I'd have a reason to keep living (to keep making art). If the only people who'd see it end up disappointed I'd want to disappear.

the problem with this mindset (in my opinion) is that some people aren't going to like your art and that's got nothing to do with the art itself. if you want to find people who go "oh, neat" then you have to keep posting until they see it. trust me, they're out there. like, i don't post for people who can't stand the idea of child abuse, i post to FIND people who want to interact with stories about child abuse the same way i do.

it would be insane to stop trying to find those people because someone else was disappointed or upset by my art. which isn't to say you gotta lock yourself into doing one thing, but that you gotta post what you care about, and people who also care will find it. posting fandom stuff with the same themes as your original art certainly doesn't hurt either, if you REALLY want to find those people faster.

It's not what art should be. I know it's value is like a person's. It's worth more than how someone reacts to it, right? But I can't apply that rule to myself. I should seek support from the people who 'know' and actually care about me, but I don't want their appreciation. I want some imagery status of a 'good artist' because that's what seems to give me dopamine.

art should be literally whatever. it's worth is literally whatever you want, it can be a big deal or not. i'm not sure what part of being a "good artist" gives your brain the Good Feelings juice but I'd investigate that feeling more and try to figure out the roots of it, cuz then you might actually be able to figure out what it is that motivates you. approval is nice, yes, but i like approval for things i enjoyed making even more.

I also wanted to mention how much I admire how open you are with your struggles. I want to be the same but I'm scared of people thinking less of me. I know that's dumb but I don't know what I'm good for if I can't make people happy. If I'm not going to be content with myself I want to not be a nuisance at least. I like to think that if I stopped caring about my impression on people, I'd be better off. But I'm scared that I'd have to learn to like myself. I don't like myself and I have no interest in liking myself. I don't see the point.

i always find it amusing when people refer to my "struggles" if only because I don't really consider them that way. to me it's just like, a thing that happened that sucks. i don't consider myself "struggling" with it, even though I guess that's what's happening. also, let's be real here, it's not like I'm using my real name. this is an anonymous tumblr blog. though, my openess on here has actually lead to me making more art about it IRL so. eh.

anyway, lucky for you, you can stop caring about what other people think without necessarily liking yourself! for me, it's about spite (sort of). I don't like myself much more than I used to, I just decided I hated everyone else more haha. I still care what people think about me, and I'm still scared of what people might do to me, but I'm also not bending over backwards to please people i dislike. I just get annoyed at them instead.

i did this basically just by repeating it until it became true, lol. there's only so many times you can petulantly say "well fuck those guys anyway they suck" before it becomes your true first reaction.

at some point, i decided i needed to pick and choose who i wanted to please, because it can't be everyone. that's just literally not possible. so i looked at the kinds of people i liked and appreciated, and basically disregarded everyone else. it's the whole "don't take criticism from someone you wouldn't take advice from" thing (not sure where that comes from)

obviously you should probably try to internalize the idea that you even HAVE to be "good for something" but that's way easier said than done. i find it more useful to devote yourself to finding a few things (causes, people, philosophies, niche interests) instead of just general usefulness. because then you can form stronger relationships, be useful, AND not burn yourself out trying to please everyone.

take all this advice with a grain of salt though, I definitely need therapy and this Bitter Angry Defensive persona will probably need to be deconstructed soon... idk. i think it's outlived its usefulness to me but i'm not sure what to do next hahah.

sorry if none of this was helpful or the point. im not even sure why i wrote this much, i kind of just ramble sometimes. i hope you figure it out!

#nnstuff #ask #asks are sweethearts

[curious-sootball]

I have been thinking about Victoria's interactions with the main cast and I have a lot to ramble about

Customary deadlands campaign spoiler warning

First, just how much more Victoria knows about the main cast than she lets on? Croyd's Wrath is established as a very small town, there's no way she missed everyone's shenanigans there unless she put active effort into ignoring those – in particular, Delacy shooting No Security Deposit Bill in the knee and Silas scaring Arlo into cutting down the bribe(also the bartender from the town saloon to the lesser extent - he got away unharmed, just terrified beyond reasoning). Like, those people live right there, in town, and the gang stayed there for at least a week and a half, most likely a little more – between Silas having a messed up shoulder after a sasquatch fight, Delacy getting non-fatally shot in Dead Man's Worth and Edie resting and healing after both her bounty hunting trips. General store visits would've gotten pretty awkward. Imagine Victoria politely, but firmly establishing house rules on things like not casting Infest or checking if the Coup is working inside of her house.

I know the packed lunch bit was mostly for laughs, but rewatching it with the ending(and the Q&A) in mind turns it genuinely heartbreaking. On one hand, Victoria at that point is established as unfailingly polite, if a bit distant - so, her making packed lunch for her tenants/hired bounty hunters when they ask for it sounds like her being polite. On the other hand - Edie mentions that she expected to receive snacks, not a full-on packed lunch, and Silas goes straight to polishing off the pot of homemade hummus that he was given: Victoria clearly given them more than what they've expected to receive. Also, Silas sounded like he was joking around when he asked for packed lunches - implying that he either expected snacks, like Edie, or didn't expect anything at all(which isn't illogical; most people in such circumstances would either make their own packed lunches or skip a lunch altogether, not ask someone to make one for them), and then Victoria went ahead and made packed lunches for them both anyway without saying much about it. This hits very different after both "I came to consider you my friends" and "The other Horsemen were her family": this bit reads like a genuine moment of kindness to me, because Victoria already gave the gang one hell of a motivator to work with her at that point(2000$ for each bounty), she didn't really need to keep convincing them. Also, note that the second person who asked for packed lunch is Edie – who has shown compassion to Victoria when she shared her backstory. Think about it: from Victoria's point of view, she's reliving the greatest failure of her entire existence – failing to properly start the Apocalypse, getting betrayed by people she considered her family(as much as such concept can be applied to them) and having her powers sealed away; then, Edie, at the moment basically a stranger, swoops in and says "you say you aren't strong, but for surviving all this, I think you are pretty strong". I am unwell about this scene.

And when (almost)all is said and done, during the final confrontation, Nate drops this line: "Never make friends with people you're paying; they will not respect you". I know, Delacy's "We already killed four horsemen. We can kill a fifth" while making eye contact with Victoria is iconic, but I think it was Nate's line that emotionally destroyed Victoria, though Edie's monster hunter speech and "She wants you to become [a monster] as well" "That's even worse!" are close contenders. Think about it: she thougt she finally found strong, capable candidates to replace the original Horsemen(who had betrayed her), she considered them friends, and one of them just up and said that it never was the relationship she assumed it was. That it had no chances of becoming that relationship from the start.

#oxventure deadlands #oxventure deadlands spoilers #don't write analysis while sleep deprived kids! you'll read it again and immediately regret having acess to a keyboard #watch me overthink a joke about packed lunches that comes up twice

[basuralindo]

You'll Have Me Rise ch.16 is up!

And I finally got to properly include Cater! (he's kind of a crossover from @terrible-eel's Trey/Cater fic!)

This time it's also featuring editing by @kamikazequail, so, if you notice an overall improvement in the polish, you know who to thank!

Also, thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient this past week. It's been hellish, but you've all been great, and I'm glad to be able to pull back and put some time into something nice for a bit.

Now, I know I'm missing a few chapter notes that I wanted to mention on this, but I've been trying and failing to remember them since last night so I'm giving up for now (just leave a comment if you wanna hear my thoughts on something specific). Anyway the rest, as always, is under the cut

-Soooo about my "Kalim grew up around brutal assassination attempts and his only friend was a trained killer and overall he's just completely desensitized to graphic or spooky shit" theory? Slasher films must be more chill than his last family reunion,

-Hey so did I mention I love Cater and Lilia? This was my first time trying to write them, and I feel like it was clumsy, but I really wanted to show an outside view of Kalim and Jamil's dynamic through someone who's more familiar with modern human society. I feel like anyone observing these guys interact is eventually gonna experience that skincrawling dread of "something is not okay at home"

-Also yeah I imagine Jamil having the most deeply uncomfortable vibes once he's in his own environment. Like, the housewarden chambers is where he doesn't usually have to perform and mask for other people the same way, so once he drops the act a bit there's gotta be some sinister, angry detached shit under it all. Not to mention all the hostile magic woven into the area to protect Kalim. Kalim, of course, is desensitized to all this because that's just what his lifelong friend feels like. It's probably cozy

-Oh? The scarabia duo starting to develop wildly different english dialects as they spend more time with people of their choosing instead of assigned company? Big time side agenda to show an immediately perceivable metric of them growing into themselves separate of each other as time goes on? Couldn't be

-Speaking of language: I think I've mentioned before that Jamil allows himself to admit ignorance and ask questions to Azul more, because Azul always takes him seriously and doesn't try to embarrass him for not knowing a word or phrase. There's trust and respect there. With Cater he's also asking more questions because he knows Cater has been helping to tutor Kalim with some decent success, and is willing to test the waters a bit. Partially because he can barely keep up with Cater's lingo and is treating it like learning a new dialect, which he knows he'll need some help figuring out.

-Notes on their speech: Jamil focuses a little obsessively on impeccable grammar, vocab, and pronunciation in the hopes of not giving anyone more material to criticize him. He struggles more with casual lingo and slangs because of this (and not socializing much in general), and is afraid to fuck up at contractions so he tends to drop them when stressed/flustered or over text (some are easier than others, like I'm and it's vs don't and won't). Since he mostly learns from Azul lately, his speech skews even more towards formal and anachronistic. Kalim isn't that concerned with accuracy. He likes to socialize and starts up casual conversation easily, so he picks up a lot more slangs and dialectical quirks but doesn't apply himself to learning "proper" english much. He's able to navigate casual conversation well, but often fucks up at unfamiliar vocab and grammar rules, and doesn't sweat correct use of things like conjunctions so long as he can get the general point across. Cater helps him out a lot, so he picks up a lot of Cater's terminology and cadence and ends up sounding much more modern than Jamil. So, their differences in speech aren't a matter of intellect, just a difference in learning style and social values.

-So, Cater's supposed to be from the shaftlands, and his Halloween vignette mentioned moving a lot and never really fitting in, so I'm choosing to believe that he moved to the queendom of roses as a kid and had to transfer around there a bunch growing up.

-Headcanon that, because there weren't a lot of mages around the palace, and even less who would spare time to teach a servant, Jamil is mostly self taught. The result of that being a lot of kinda juryrigged practical spells that, once mastered, ended up being modified in various ways for whatever needs they could apply to. The things that weren't so self taught were mostly curses and assassin techniques passed down through his family, which also got modified over time for practicality and protecting Kalim. So a lot of his magic just feels immensely uncomfortable, like protection wards that are actually modified curses and shit like that. The rest is just very noticeably different from standard teaching, and of course Jamil doesn't want anyone to know he's invented so many of his own spells, so he downplays and straight up lies about it if asked

-Writing from Cater's perspective was a lot harder than I expected, but I really like him and wanted more of him in the story. And again, an outside perspective on this whole situation is much needed imo. Just, let someone actually look at Jamil and see that he hasn't gotten to be young yet

-The whispers movie is a reference to the Suspiria remake. The way dance is used for spells in that partially inspired Jamil's sandstorm dance in the first chapter, and it seemed like something he'd like

-Anyone: "Don't worry about it." Jamil: *Worry intensifies*

-Cater is out here holding the emotional intelligence and basic social skills of the entire school together. There wasn't a lot to go around, but he's making it work.

-I love the idea of like, between the preferential treatment and Jamil's own warped standards, his description of the octatrio and their merits being completely unrecognizable to the rest of the school. I don't think Cater would have been so encouraging if he knew who he was encouraging Jamil to give the benefit of a doubt to.

-Headcanon slightly supported by actual canon: I think Floyd has a relatively photographic memory, and he shows affection by taking note of the things that make people light up, and supporting those hobbies/interests with little relevant gifts, or just encouraging them to explore and talk about it and listening to them infodump. If it's particularly important to them he'll learn up on it enough to hold a real conversation. Since Azul and especially Jade are the type to get really deeply invested in every little detail of an interest, and he sees that Jamil seems to happily talk to both of them about that kind of thing, he figures there's a good chance Jamil would enjoy being bombarded with informative material and the like too.

-Since I'm bringing up Floyd's love language, I might as well add that I think Azul would deeply investigate to determine what someone might want from him, then try to provide it at a level above and beyond all expectations (partially driven by an obsession with proving his worth. potentially disastrous results when he misjudges what was actually wanted). Jade would give little gifts of things that a) he thinks they'd like, b) he wants to see how they'll react to, and/or c) he wants them to have because he likes the idea or aesthetic of it for them. These almost never include things they actually ask for, because it's more fun to experiment than just do something with guaranteed results. And he'd gift an overwhelming amount of these little things constantly, half because he gets a thrill out of seeing the reactions, and half because he wants the recipient to always feel the presence of his affection.

-Jamil, meanwhile, would probably show care through acts of service because it's all he knows so far (this may change over time as he heals). His hate language would be malicious compliance.

-Okay so I think Cater is absolute drunk aunt friend? I think he compulsively adopts people and drags everyone else into it and makes a whole project of helping them, and then ditches out for several weeks to have his own secret crisis. Then he pulls himself together and comes back chipper and doubles down on the project to keep his mind off of his issues because if everyone else is happy then he can fake it till he makes it. …I also think Riddle's overblot was a little traumatic and the idea of another one happening is freaking him out.

#yhmr fic #twst you'll have me rise you'll have me fall #chapter update #chapter babble #twst #octaviper #ashenviper #floyd x jamil #jade x jamil #azul x jamil

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Seven: All The Better To See You With

First off, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait! I know people will be telling me not to apologise but I am going to because I have kept you all waiting for too long! Thank you all for your patience, you're all great :3.

I've been so busy with various shenanigans and also just being generally tired... even though exams ended more than a month ago(?).

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter... Though, I have to admit, I'm not sure if this is me best work but maybe that's me being a stereotypical, self-critical writer :P.

Warnings: Violence, threats of violence, people being extremely dodgy, swearing and horror elements

Here's a little fun thing for you to do: can you guess which CoD villain is in Y/N's flashback?

The plan had a rough structure, but it needed polishing. Phillip had forgotten what had worked on 141 and the Vaqueros last time and that was the element of surprise. They had grown fond of him, too fond of him, and that rendered them vulnerable. Like a fool turning their back on a wild cat, Phillip had exploited their friendliness and pulled the wool over their eyes; and whilst he couldn’t charm his way to Ghost, his infection and the renegade, Graves knew he could still use that element of surprise to his advantage regardless of whether it was via sweet-talking his prey or pouncing from the shadows.

Having them completely oblivious until it was time for him and his boys to break in and extract their targets would be perfect. Phillip needed to ambush them. Springing an ambush had worked on the Las Almas Cartel and it would surely work on the Vaqueros and their British friends. An ambush would also leave no time for re-introductions and other such pleasantries, and so Phillip could conceal his shame and preternatural resurrection from them.

However, the issue of having them completely clueless of his pack’s presence merely a few kilometres away from the Vaquero base would require Valeria’s delivery of the ‘package’ to Ghost to be so subtle that the keen-eyed Manc wouldn’t even know what hit him… or more like bit him. Basically, Valeria would need to be invisible.

Maybe, if they extracted Ghost first and then delivered the package-

“No,” Valeria chuckled, “It doesn’t work like that, my dear.”

Phillip turned around to face her, tilting his head to one side.

“How come?”

“The Foundation want you to infect him first, give his body time to either adjust to the disease or die, and then you bring them back either a corpse or a live Arcadian Son.”

“What?”

A shudder ran through him.

“With the live ones,” the drug lord let out a sigh, “it’s always a gamble. Some die, some don’t. If he doesn’t die, great. If he does, no matter, the Foundation will just make him one of you.”

Graves clicked his tongue, thinking about how to react to this information.

“Just don’t come back empty-handed,” Valeria advised, “They’ll be furious.”

“What happens if I do piss ‘em off and come back empty-handed?” Phillip dared to ask.

Valeria smiled resignedly.

“You’ll lose your privilege of being a good Arcadian Son. You’re here on this job because someone’s obviously put in a good word about you. If you fuck up, you’ll develop a reputation.”

Graves chuckled wryly.

Of course.

He knew what she meant by that. No one wants a contractor with a shitty record. He didn’t build a PMC empire by being a bad commander. He supposed similar rules applied here. Phillip needed to ensure his victory, should he want to have some form of success in this afterlife.

As he looked at Valeria, he began to wonder who exactly she was before she became Sin Nombre. Was she like 72 and 23? Like the renegade they were going to capture? Or had she always been… well, this?

“When you were a lamia,” Graves leaned a little forward, “what was it like?”

“Terrible,” she bluntly replied.

Phillip was a little taken aback by that.

“Valeria, hun, just answer my question properly. You’ve got nothin’ better to do.”

A clawed hand gestured to her tied-up state, body flush against the bark of a tree. Her lip curled a little upwards as her eyes glared at his gloved mitt and those ghastly metal talons.

“Fine,” she growled, “I was in Unit 4. My packmaster was the Foundation’s equivalent of royalty. Undead like you. He was… is… a terrible man, even by Arcadian Son standards.”

“Royalty?”

Valeria nodded.

“Did he have a number? Or a name?”

“4242.”

“That all?”

Valeria remained silent. That was all.

Footsteps sounded behind Phillip and he looked to see his men had returned from whatever they had been doing last night.

Two of them were fully armoured while one, 7629, was still getting his chest piece on, pulling it over his head as he trailed behind the others.

“Morning, boys,” Graves greeted them, “Y’all feeling up to a bit of planning?”

They all trudged into the camp rather sluggishly, with mumbles and half-assed nods being their replies.

Phillip didn’t really care for the whining protests and loud yawns coming from their masked faces as they reluctantly took their seats as he demanded. Eventually, though, they all simmered down and, once Graves had cleared his throat, he began.

“The best way to ensure extraction is a success is to catch these men off-guard. They’re special forces, meaning they’re good at their fucking jobs, but, like with any specialist, I find if we make ‘em start questioning their competence in the heat of battle, they fall apart very quickly.”

They all seemed to agree with that, nodding along.

“So, if we want the element of surprise, Valeria here needs to deliver the package to our target without being seen.”

Then, Graves sighed.

“Which is where I’m stuck. How do we get this woman into the base without her or our cover being blown?”

His men’s demeanour had now changed, they had gone from tired and disinterested to engaged, almost excited, as they pondered on what to do. Graves surveyed them, keeping an eye out for any indication of a ‘light bulb’ moment. The atmosphere of surrounding the circle of men was slowly shifting from dull and weary to something livelier. Electricity was in the air as brains whirred, the gears in each and every skull turning, wondering what could be done to overcome this potential setback. The collective buzz of mumbles of potential plans, rustles of idle fidgeting and clicking tongues all gave way to the climax of this crescendo of thought which came from 7152’s mouth:

“Isn’t there a spare of hepta-plate in one of the lamia’s bags?”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“Is there?” 7418 asked, almost to himself.

“Will it fit our asset?” 7629 queried.

Graves watched them all descend upon 7152, barraging the guy with questions and contest. Curious himself, he rose from his seat on the ground and headed for their bags.

Sifting through the pile of rucksacks and duffels, sorting through them by briefly peeking at their contents, Graves arrived at a bag which looked to belong to one of the girls.

Carefully, he unbuckled the flap and pulled it back to reveal a zip. Not a moment later and Phillip was staring at exactly what he was looking for: a spare set of hepta-plate. He returned to the group with the armour held close to his chest. It looked like a small, shining bundle of light, highly reflective and responsive to its surroundings.

He placed it in front of Valeria and looked up at her expectantly.

“Do you think you could wear this?”

She eyed it. The armour before her was made for a girl. As Graves held it up, letting Valeria get a better idea of its size, she realised that it was far too short for her and also, there was seldom any room for her bust.

“This is for a child. I’m a grown woman.”

She looked at him with a disapproving face, relishing in the way Phillip sighed.

“How do we get this hepta-plate on her-”

Click!

In his sure grip, Graves had accidentally removed a group of plates from the chest piece. He slowly turned around to face the group, dreading to ask if he had just broken their ticket to getting Valeria into the base undetected. Underneath that helmet, Phillip Graves’s face was contorting into various emotions, his stomach dropping and eyes squeezing shut.

However, to his surprise, his action had warranted a few chuckles from the group. With caution, he cracked open an eye to see what was going on.

“Ah, I forgot the backup ones could do that!” 7152 remarked as he cupped his masked face in his hand.

“Wait, so I haven’t broken this?” Graves queried, holding up the separated parts.

“Well, can they still camouflage?”

“How do I get it to do that?”

7152 turned around and shouted for a lamia. 72 was the first to hear the call and poked her head out of the tent. A beckoning hand gestured for her to come forward and show her packmaster how to work the shroud mechanism.

With two taps on the isolated plates, Graves’ eyebrows raised as he watched it disappear from his hand. It was a strange thing to experience, witnessing nothing there and yet feeling a weight on your palm, seeing your fingers curl over an object that seemingly never was.

“The gauntlets have adjustable straps, as do the leg pieces. And one of your helmets could probably act as a substitute for a mask I think… if… if we can attach some plates on there,” 72 mumbled.

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes expectantly.

“Go on, kid.”

Shyly, she continued.

“You can also remove some of the plates from the chest piece and put them on a vest that does fit her.”

“But that won’t completely cover her, kid. She’ll have parts of her body still visible.” 7152 was quick to point out.

“She’s a lamia,” 72 replied, “If enough of her is invisible, she can make the rest of her vanish on her own with her mind.”

Valeria felt a lump in her throat form as all eyes returned to her. It was true: she could do that. However, it would take a lot out of her, and she didn’t want to be devoting so much of herself to this mission, to the Foundation. Perhaps the little girls before her could plead her case.

“Sister…” She did her best to appeal to the lamia’s better nature. “… It’ll take a lot out of me. I’ve not practised in a long time unlike yourself.”

72 nodded and thought.

“Maybe then I or 23 should-”

“No.”

Graves was quick to dismiss her suggestion. His interruption hit hard with the weight and finality of a judge’s gavel.

“Sir, you didn’t even let me finish-”

“The Foundation wants Valeria to specifically deliver the package. Not you. You and 23 are to remain here, out of sight.”

“But we’re here to help!”

“Help by staying away for the time being.”

Phillip’s voice was stern and for some reason, that pissed 72 off. The Arcadian Son was being particularly frosty this morning; a contrast to the open, kind man she had conversed with last night. She supposed she had expected better of him.

72 rolled her eyes as she watched him turn his back on her.

“Sheesh! It’s not like you’re our dad! We don’t need to be-”

“What was that?!” Phillip interrupted with a growl.

“Nothing, sir,” she sheepishly replied.

Some of the Arcadian Sons snickered, but promptly quietened down when they sensed the face of thunder Graves was pulling under his helm.  The tension in the air was palpable and everyone decided it was best to keep quiet as Phillip regained his composure and continued with the task at hand.

“Okay, so let’s get whatever pieces we can on her and whatever. Once she’s got the… package in her system. We’ll escort her as near as possible to the base. Understood?”

“Yup!”

“Yup!”

***

Valeria tugged at the strap on her arm, feeling the piece sit better on her now that it was more snug to her base layer. As she turned her wrist, to see what the armour looked like on her forearm, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of the Foundation’s engineers. This was nothing like what she used to wear, although if the woman looked closely, there were echoes of her own hepta-plate within this new, more advanced style. It seemed the days of large hexagons slotting together were gone. Now, Valeria was confronted with the sleek, serpentine plates which, when isolated, did form that signature six-sided shape, but, as she saw when 72 pushed two plates together to cover her Kevlar vest, vanished to form one seamless, unified structure.

The armour shined, looking almost white in the sunlight. Beyond it, though, Valeria could see her reflection, distorted and uncanny. Between the plates, Valeria could make out a few strange dots. Dots which looked like eyes and it soon became apparent that these were the cameras that allowed the armour to see what to camouflage into. She smiled. Just like when she was a little girl.

“It suits you.”

She turned around to see 7418 approach her.

“Jaime.”

He couldn’t help but feel a shudder of revulsion at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Still, it wasn’t enough revulsion to make him completely turn away from her and so he squatted down in front of her, looking to continue this conversation.

“Sin Nombre,” 7418 spoke with a breathy, almost nervous voice, “how have you been?”

Valeria grinned.

“Why bother with pleasantries? I can tell you’re still angry with me.”

He shook his head and then turned to 72.

“You’re dismissed, girl. Go to your tent.”

She nodded and left them.

7418 did his best to contain himself, knowing full well that giving into his anger would only grant her satisfaction. Valeria was a tricky one. The woman was good at hiding her fear under that false mask of recklessness. Never had he met someone who so easily turn the tables on a person, make their vile fury her power. She thrived off of making men angry, so that she could use it against them. Or so it seemed, because, at the end of the day, Valeria’s whole personality was a performance.

7418 had been Jaime once, and Jaime had seen what Valeria truly did with all the anger and hatred that she supposedly fuelled her confidence with. Valeria Garza wasn’t a careless brat; she was a silent crier.

A gentle hand reached for one of his locs, twisting her finger around it. She remembered when he used to adorn them with jewellery, along with his fingers; his hands would always feel heavy, big rings resting on each and every finger.

“Anger doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel towards you.”

Those words hit hard.

“Jaime… I know it’s been a long time coming, but if it’s any consolation… I deeply regret giving you to them. I should have buried you. You were one of my best.”

He stared at her, trying to see if there was any sincerity to that.

Valeria looked into that black void of a mask and hoped that under it, his face was softening. She watched his shoulders relax, the tension leaving him. The Arcadian Son slouched a little, letting out a small sigh. Her eyes were as wide and expressive as ever. Her heart was in her mouth, her thoughts racing around, all wondering what he was going to do with what she had just said.

The drug lord had to admit, it was no apology.

And hence, 7418 struck her, right across the face.

She didn’t even have time to yelp, the sheer force of the hit was enough to shake her sense of balance. Valeria fell to the ground, tasting blood in the back of her throat.

23 watched from across the camp, through a small slit she had made for herself by slightly unzipping the tent’s flap. The girl waited, eyes fixed on the scene before her. She flinched as she watched 7418 deal his blow, wincing as Valeria’s body landed with a thud.  A shiver of fear ran through 23’s body like a brief shock of electricity. She decided it was best to remain in the tent.

Phillip was quick to turn in the direction of this sudden commotion.

7418 stood above her, a looming golem, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was thinking about what to do, whether to leave her, limp on the ground, or kick her in the ribs, for a sense of finality. 7418 bit down on his anger, wanting to feel satisfied. She was here and she was at the behest of the Foundation, at the behest of him and yet, as he stood over her, he felt painfully empty. He wanted to feel like he had gotten one over her and proved to her that he was what happened when you got drunk on power. 7418 wanted to be something to Valeria. 

Pfft. Valeria couldn’t help but smile through her bleeding lips. Get. In. Fucking. Line.

As he saw the corners of her lips pull into an unashamed grin, 7418 snarled. He raised his leg, drew it back and swung-

There was this deafening roar.

Graves charged at him, pinning him to the bark of a tree. A scattering of branches came falling down as the trunk shuddered, empathising with the wheeze that escape 7418’s mouth, the wind getting knocked out of him. The other Arcadian Sons backed up a little, rising onto their feet. They didn’t dare take their eyes off the exchange happening between them.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” Graves yelled.

“That cunt doesn’t know her fucking place!”

“No, you don’t know your place! You can’t just hit her!”

“She’s our prisoner, I can do whatever I-”

Phillip snarled.

“Okay! Okay!”

7418 raised his hands, before briefly losing his balance as Phillip dug his clawed gloves into the fabric crevices in the other’s armour.

He lowered his head, making himself as physically small as possible. Something akin to a dog’s whine, though a lot raspier, escaped him as he tried to find a place to rest himself, slipping against the bark of the tree he was practically propped up against.

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Speak up!” Phillip barked.

“It won’t happen again, sir!”

He let 7418 go, sighing and shaking his head as the man staggered a little to regain his footing.

“Jesus Christ…” the man soughed before raising his voice once more, “She’s the asset! She’s a fucking pain in the arse but she’s also part of this whole operation! Restrain yourself, soldier!”

There was evident irony here and it was found in Phillip’s voice as he instructed his fellow Arcadian Son to rein it in. His voice for a brief moment was unrecognisable, sounding almost mechanical, like a bellowing roar from a big cat.

“And I pegged you for the diplomatic type,” Graves added as he exhaled.

7418 scoffed.

“Diplomatic?! Sir, I was a sicario. And now, I’m an Arcadian Son.”

Phillip watched the man slink past him, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Valeria looked up at Phillip, blood running down from her nose. He knelt down before her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Stay that way and stop pissin’ these guys off. I don’t need this to be harder than it already is.”

Valeria smiled resignedly as she watched him leave her side and go gather the rest of her things, seething with long-fermented rage.

***

You could still picture it in your head, you and a group of maybe a dozen girls, maybe more, sitting inside a dark metal container. The door swung open and someone who was supposed to be your ‘knight in shining armour’ stood at the entryway. Like an obelisk sent from above, he planted himself firmly between you and the outside world, casting a dark shadow over you all.

The screams of little girls echoed throughout the place, as you were herded like cattle, along the asphalt pasture into their planes.

You don’t know how they’d found you, but, now that you thought about it, they may have staged this whole thing. Nevertheless, back then, you thought you were being saved by the special forces or something.

A lone cuddly toy sat on the ground, soaking in a puddle, its scraggly fur becoming matted with mud. You had cried out for your little friend, reaching for him as strong arms ushered you towards a ramp.

Luckily for you, that man, the one who had opened the door, picked up your toy wolf and handed him to you. He cupped your face in his big, gloved hands; the metal talons which tipped his fingers scraped at your skin. His blank mask, from which two canisters of red liquid protruded forth, was all you could see.

A small whimper left your lips, and he hushed you, bringing you to his chest, and gently swaying you side to side.

How easily he could manipulate your body, picking you up like you weighed nothing and cradling you in his arms as he took you onto the plane. You had sat on his lap for the entire journey, falling asleep, drugged by the lullaby that was his voice. Or perhaps something else. Maybe he had taken hold of your mind. Who knows…

***

He looked at you, eyes reflecting the dim lights of flickering ceiling lamps. Bathed in cool colours, akin to silver moonlight, you felt a shiver running through your body as he placed his rook in front of your pawn; an imminent threat that you would now have to think about, should he choose to have the little castle march onward on his next turn and add your soldier to the growing pile of bodies on his side of the board.

You swallowed hard and thought. His king remained stoic next to his queen, unfazed by your nearing army, seeing as his knights, pawns and bishops were destroying your forces. Such was the price you had to pay for every blunder you made.

"Oh, pup," the man across from you chuckled, "had I known this was your first game, I wouldn't have made this so hard for you."

You grumbled, brow furrowing.

He looked down at the board and then back at you. There was a glint in his eye as if he was trying to tell you something. His gaze directed you to a lonely pawn he had, which was ripe for your bishop's taking.

Reluctantly, accepting his aid, you moved to take it, your resentment growing as he took your hand and guided you to the pawn, practically handing it to you.

"There you go," he encouraged, "A kill to your name."

He sighed as you looked down, face tinted with the signature shadow of melancholy. Though he bore a mask, an elaborate, almost medieval-looking one at that, you could tell he was frowning.

"What's wrong, little one?"

You pulled your lips into a thin line, unsure if you should-

"Speak."

His voice echoed throughout the empty lounge, the rumble of his inner beast shaking your chest. You sat bolt upright, eyes wide and alert, deserting their heavy-lidded sadness, realising your emotions were dampening his mood.

"I'm sorry, sir. I-"

"What? Please, don't tell me you're crying over a game of chess."

He rolled his eyes.

"No!"

He looked back at you.

"I mean..." You cleared your throat. "I mean, no, sir. It's not about chess."

"Then, what, pup? What's making you so sad? It's not pleasant to see you like this."

The way he spoke had a terrible knack for cutting into you, like a well-sharpened knife through flesh. His Russian accent was strong and sometimes you found it had rubbed a little off on you, which you supposed was inevitable, seeing as he had brought you up.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just a little... erm..."

You had to choose your words carefully, the last thing you wanted to do was offend him.

"... I hadn't seen you like that before."

"Ah."

He was quick to realise what you were talking about.

"Most of my lamias do tend to be surprised when they witness me change for the first time. I make for a fearsome Arcadian Son. But I didn't attack you, did I?"

"No, sir."

"So why is it affecting you so much?"

You shrugged.

"I guess I was just scared."

He laughed. It was quiet, contained but aggravatingly condescending.

"You only need to be scared if you're my enemy. Are you my enemy?"

"No."

"Exactly. You're my lamia. I raised you as my own, you have nothing to fear should you remain at my side."

"Has a lamia ever betrayed you?"

He scoffed.

"Has a lamia ever betrayed me?! I am well into my hundreds now, pup, think about how many lamias I've raised in the time I've been with the Foundation. There are always defects."

"I see."

"And most of those defects found their end here."

He pointed to the lower half of his masked face, where its metal lips were.

"In my teeth."

***

You looked to your left and saw Ghost, staring off into the forest, waiting for you to continue. A small, sad smile crept onto your face. From sitting across one masked man to now sitting beside another, fate seemed to have found a recurring image and had now stuck with it. Nevertheless, you supposed you should appreciate the fact that Ghost hadn’t attacked you yet.

Yet.

Why were you anticipating the worst of him?

Damn. You were a terrible human being.

Well, in fairness, his job did require him to kill.

He looked back at you, sensing your eyes were on him and you were quick to avert your gaze, taking some feigned interest in a bird that was pecking at the soil. Your heart skipped a beat or two, your body painfully aware of his presence. You sighed, drawing your knees up to your chest. The desire to give your brain a factory reset was becoming a desperate need, clawing away at your insides.

“You were talking about your training…” he mumbled, hoping that maybe a prompt will get you back to talking, rescuing him from this painful silence you had cast upon both of you.

“Hmm?”

You turned to face him, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Training?”

“Ah, right. Yeah. Trained with professional soldiers who were much more experienced than myself and hardly held back. Um… Then, I was put into what we call ‘packs’, task forces, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“The men who were part of our packs were hardly kind. I think… I think there was a culture among them, a contest to see who could be the absolute worst human possible. It was like…” You scratched your chin as you tried to find the words. “… It was like they defined themselves by their capacity to inflict violence.”

Ghost couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh through his nose. He looked down at the ground, his mind racing with questions and guilty accusations. That culture wasn’t unique to where you were from. That culture was everywhere and, as reluctant as he was to admit it, he knew he had partaken in that culture in some form. Then again, he was sure every guy had. He wondered if it was some unwritten rite of passage that you’d have to be violent in some capacity to put someone in their place. Violence was everywhere, especially in his life. His job pretty much boiled down to being violent.

Which was why he felt incredibly uncomfortable as you continued to speak about those godawful men.

“They liked making you feel small in any capacity. Even when they weren’t wanting to hurt you. My… overseer was very much like that. I sometimes questioned if he actually loved me like he said he did or if I was just a thing to him. Just another lamia to add to his collection.”

Like that growing pile of chess pieces on his side of the board.

“Overseer?” Ghost asked, hoping that redirecting the conversation to this man whom, he prayed you’d shit on to no end, would enable him to escape his own mental self-flagellation.

“Yeah, he was the man who I thought was special forces, remember? He raised me. I wouldn’t say he was a father to me per se, but he was close to that. He was terrifying.”

“How? I-If you don’t mind me asking.”

You smiled, something in you buzzing with delight in the way Ghost had checked if you were okay with answering.

“He was… hmm… this sounds crazy, but he was like royalty, a very powerful man. He was clever and experienced, and he knew how to make you like him because he pretended to respect you. However, if you pissed him off, or hit a particular nerve, he would be quick to remind you who he really was.”

“A dick pretty much.”

You chuckled.

“He was more than a dick, Ghost. He was a monster who hid it well, or maybe he didn’t, maybe he just desensitised us to his actual personality… I don’t know. Still, he was a terrible human being and I hate him.”

He chuckled, chuckled like he knew something… like he could relate. You looked up at him, anticipating elaboration, but either Ghost didn’t pick up on your curiosity or refused to acknowledge it.

Instead of giving in to that puppy-like nosiness you had on display pertaining to his remark, Ghost decided to question you some more.

“What exactly made you like a lamia? And… um, can I ask if the male soldiers were special in any way? Can I ask more about them?”

“Oh, well, for me I got a blood transfusion. They found a match and gave me a special type of blood that made me like the way I am. As for the men…”

Now, did you want to go into every itty-bitty detail about Arcadian Sons? Ghost could believe what you had to say about lamia abilities because he had witnessed them and, you supposed, they weren’t too far from being somewhat plausible… at least the superior strength you displayed, which you could argue was in the realm of possibility for the average human imagination. As for shapeshifting, bloodsucking monsters, well, you didn’t want Ghost to think you were making up tall tales.

Keep it tactical. Keep it minimal.

“… The men weren’t like us at all. Well, they were strong. Incredibly strong. Bought, though. They weren’t found and taken from a young age like us.”

“I see…”

Yup. You nodded to yourself. Love that for the Arcadian Sons… those heartless bastards. You wondered if you could ever take one on in a fight. That would be something!

“Now you’re out, Y/N. How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like shit. I want to feel good because look at me, I made it out but… I know the Foundation will be after me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over what happened to me while I was there.”

“You may never get over it, Y/N. But that doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

You cocked your head to one side, brow furrowing.

“It’s okay to not entirely recover but it doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“I wonder if this was meant to happen if it’s…” You felt the tears coming back, your eyes tingling. “…given me character or something.”

Ghost laughed.

“Y/N, trauma doesn’t equate to character and let no one tell you otherwise. You’re not meant to go through pain, and it’s not meant to be character-building. Trust me, I know.”

You do?

Should you ask that aloud?

You felt your heart kick up a notch. You didn’t want to upset him, especially as you felt you had just recovered from nearly making him hate you with you barging in on him showering and then proceeding to threaten his manhood with a swift kick to the balls during that round of sparring.

Hmm.

“I just had a rough upbringing, Y/N. That’s all.”

The way he had said it sounded laboured like you had been pestering him for a while about it. You hadn’t though, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe you just had that look on your face. Nevertheless, you decided it was best to leave it at that.

“Oh… right.”

You gave a polite smile and awkwardly looked to the ground, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

He sighed and decided to make his body language more open, hoping that would prevent you from looking too sad. Swivelling round to face you more and making sure he looked as amicable as he could with that threatening skull of a mask, Ghost made an effort to speak with a gentler voice in the hopes you wouldn’t retreat into your shell.

“Do you want to talk more? You feeling better?”

You nodded.

“I do feel better, thanks. But, I mean, I could probably fill books with how much I want to talk about my time in the Foundation. About everything… It’s tiring though.”

As if on cue, you stretched your arms upwards and let out a great yawn.

“Bringing up baggage is tiring, but while you’re here, feel free to come and-”

He paused, watching you suddenly get up from your seat and lower yourself so that you were close to the ground. You took a few steps towards something amidst the soil, moving in a catlike manner: stopping, crouching, and then continuing to creep closer.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Shhh!”

“Y/N-”

Ghost would have the strangest shock of his life as you turned around and gave him an irritated hiss, only to then place a hand over your mouth, looking surprised yourself.

“Sorry! It’s a lamia habit of mine!”

He just looked at you. His eyes weren’t wide, but you could definitely tell he was taken aback. Much to your relief, he began to laugh.

“Laswell doesn’t hiss!”

“Does she not?”

The fact that was a genuine question only made Ghost’s confused laughter grow.

“No! She doesn’t?!”

“Weird,” you remarked, returning your attention to whatever you were investigating in the grass.

He rose from his seat, heading towards you.

“Weird? It’s weird not to hiss? Y/N, you really are full of-”

You raised your hand, causing him to stop in his tracks. Looking over your shoulder, Ghost squatted down beside you and beheld a… footprint?

He tilted his head to one side and reached forward to get a better look, only for you to bat his hand away.

“Y/N!” he scolded.

“You’ll damage it!”

“It’s a footprint. There’s plenty of ‘em around.”

“This one’s special.”

Was it? Ghost grimaced under his mask as he watched you lean in. The last thing he wanted to see was you sniffing at this like some tracking dog, which, luckily you didn’t do. Instead, you stroked your chin, examining every little detail on the imprint on the soil. It looked like it belonged to a standard combat boot, and you were sure you might find a few footprints around the base that would match this one.

You had a hunch that someone had just entered the Vaqueros’ base who wasn’t supposed to be there. Your pupils had dilated, eyes darting about, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you scoured for any other sign which confirmed your theory. Ghost watched you, both fascinated and also concerned, wondering if he should intervene.

“This doesn’t belong to someone we know,” you stated, rising to your feet and pointing at the footprint with an accusatory hand.

“Easy. It’s a footprint.”

Like the final gong of a church bell, you felt a sudden shift in your emotional state. Mild indignation set alight from old embers.

Easy. It’s a footprint. EaSy. It’S a FoOtPriNt.

It was how he said it: as if he knew better. However, Ghost didn’t know better, you did. He didn’t have your supernatural affinity for premonition, he wasn’t able to detect the slight change in the aura of the base behind you. Something told you that another mind had joined the collection of the ones you recognised. You began to grind your teeth together, instinct screaming from the back of your mind that you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t act.

“You’re no lamia, Ghost. You wouldn’t understand. I need to find Kate.”

You brushed past him, massaging your temples as you made your way back into the base.

Ghost’s shoulders slumped a little as he watched you disappear into the distance. Then, he turned around, hearing something amidst the bushes just yonder.

***

You let out a heavy sigh, head dropping downwards as Kate placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t sense anything, Y/N. I think you’re just a little rattled, which is understandable. Sometimes anxieties can flare up suddenly.”

You weren’t having her patronise you again and the bubbling anger slowly making itself known on your face told Kate that perhaps she should choose her next words carefully. She did so, gently removing her hand from you and looking you in the eye.

“If it’s any assurance, my contact said that you’ll be good to go within two days. Two more days and you’ll be on your way to proper freedom.”

“Two days of sitting idly by while the Foundation gets clos- AHHHH!” you said before your voice crescendo-ed into a loud groan.

You clutched your head, losing your balance. Laswell caught you in her arms, hushing you as you whimpered, your mind soaring with a strange pain. It was like a high-pitched sound, ringing inside your skull, a blaring siren telling you that something was terribly wrong. You gripped onto her tightly, doing your best to sort through the howling voices in your mind and find one which spoke reason. Except, the more you fixated on the feeling, the worse it grew.

That footprint. That blasted footprint!

You tried to picture it in your head, hoping there was a clue within the image of the memory.

“Steady, Y/N.”

Kate had you rest some of your weight onto her and helped you hobble into the barracks.

As soon as Gaz saw the sight of you barely being able to stand on your feet, even with the aid of Kate, he rose up and made his way to you.

“Are they okay?” Gaz asked, helping Kate ease you onto a bed.

“I think they’re just a bit overstimulated. Happens sometimes. There’s a lot of people in this base,” Kate explained, feeling your forehead.

Your temperature was fine, despite your slightly feverish behaviour. You turned around and buried your face into your pillow, trying to focus on the distant echo of that foreign soul, praying that the redirection of your attention would be enough to drown out the cacophony wreaking havoc within your head.

“Someone’s in this base…”

“Y/N…”

“Someone is in this base!” you shouted, despite your voice being muffled by the pillow.

“What do they mean by that?” Gaz asked.

Kate let out an exasperated sigh, “They think someone’s here that’s not meant to be here but that’s… impossible.”

“What if they’re right?”

“I would know too.”

Kate, you’re out of practice. I’m fresh out of the Foundation. My senses are much better than yours.

You wouldn’t say it aloud, for fear of causing offence but despite that, you stuck to your guns. She may not have been convinced but you knew better.

Even if it may eventually be to your detriment, you were not sleeping tonight.

***

Ghost turned the faucet and flinched a little as a shock of cold water splashed him square in the face. He ran his hands through his wet hair, adjusting to the warming temperature, and a content sigh escaped his lips. While he lathered up some soap in his hands, he thought about you.

As he had walked past the barracks, he had seen you on your bed, lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. You had your hands on your belly as you idly chewed on the inside of your cheek. It looked like you had calmed down from your little panic over the footprint, although he could still tell, even at the distance he was at, that something was bothering you. Your chest rose and fell quickly, your eyes wide and alert. Though he was careful to not catch your attention, he had a feeling you knew he was there, or at least nearby. Going from zero to a hundred like that, he wondered how you could cope with it, and he hoped it wasn’t a habit of yours. All from a fucking footprint. Yes, you probably could sense something with your… lamia-ness, but he had overheard Kate say something about overstimulation and upon hearing that, all the pieces fit together.

You probably weren’t used to being in an army base with all of them, all of these new people, and that only added to the pile you already had on your plate.

A pang of guilt struck him as he washed off the soap from his body.

Maybe he had been too dismissive. He could tell you had gotten annoyed by him trying to calm you down before you spiralled but he was just doing what he thought best.  You were skittish, easy to agitate, and you needed to be settled down before you’d go off on one. Right? He was helping you!

Well, he thought he was.

The steam made the air in the bathroom heavy… or maybe it was just him?

He didn’t know why, but, all of a sudden, he was feeling a little claustrophobic. Ghost shrunk away a little, almost hiding under the water, wondering if your bout of paranoia had rubbed off on him.

Eventually, the lieutenant finished up his shower, got dressed and was brushing his teeth over the sink. Briefly, he looked up at the mirror.

A shiver, like none he had ever felt ran through him.

Primal fear, triggered by pure incomprehension, made his skin grow clammy and his heart speed up.

Before his very eyes, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley watched a handprint form on the foggy mirror. A disembodied handprint.

Quickly, he turned around, only to see nothing.

Something gently touched his neck.

Breath.

Ghost took the toothbrush out of his mouth and set it on the porcelain sink. Then, he searched around the empty bathroom, albeit a little frantically. He peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the shower unit.

If someone was playing a little prank, he was going to hunt that person down and give them more than an earful on how that was a stupid thing to do.

However, it would turn out to be empty.

Returning to the sink, he let out a sigh.

Jesus, Simon. Get a hold of yourself.

Resting his hands on the edges of the sink, he looked back up at the mirror. The handprint was still there, and in the patches of clarity that made up the palm, where the fogginess had been removed, Ghost spotted that the lock on the door had been undone.

But didn’t he… He could have sworn…

He returned to the barracks, towels and soaps in hand, making his way to his rucksack. As he knelt down before his bed, he looked to his side and caught your eye. You gave a polite smile, before rolling onto your side, turning away from him.

“You alright?” he asked as he packed his stuff away.

“I think I should be asking you that question. You seem rattled,” you replied, your voice monotone.

He looked back up at you, brows knitted together.

“Are you… Are you doing your ‘lamia’ thing?”

“Someone was in the bathroom, weren’t they?”

“Please, don’t fuel my paranoia,” Ghost said, getting up and heading elsewhere to find Soap and maybe a box of raisins.

#bloodhound fic #cod mw22 #cod mwii fic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #phillip graves cod #cod mw2 werewolf au #cod mw2 fic #simon riley x reader #oh boy oh joy another chapter :)

[okami-zero]

OC Name Meanings

I appreciate the tag, @kittynomsdeplume! xD

Rules: Google and post the meaning of your OC’s name (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! bonus if you can find something for their last name too.

I believe I shall tag... @elveny, @vasheden, @greyias, @traveleorzea, @autumnslance, @kunstpause, @sasslett, @clockworkdragonffxiv, @karoiseka, @yzeltia and anyone else who see this and wants to join in!

Okay, so one thing to note about most of my OCs, is their names generally just pop out of the random mess of alphabet soup constantly simmering in some corner of my brain. Not ALL of them (for example, Akagi's family name), but most. Or are inspired/pulled from other places. I will go with my big three main MMO fellas, and my two 100% original OCs. Also, have a cut cause I, uh, got carried away. ^_^; (And I am sorry this took so long. >.<)

Zedd Overkill/Zed'rika Ov'redis- Okay, this guy. My half-echani smuggler in SWTOR, who is based on the original I made ages ago (and who is the descendant of the SWTOR one, after some revisions/additions/etc.) The OG is Zedd Overkill, inspired by my favorite Power Rangers villain (Lord Zedd), the head agent from MiB (Zed, as in the letter) and with inspiration from Hackers (Crash Override), a dash (heh, pun) of Dash Rendar from Shadows of the Empire and a maybe just a hint of Han solo. The name popped into my head after watching Hackers and was trying to think up a cool email during computer class (back when Hotmail was still Hotmail xD). The name was repurposed with a smuggler character I made with a friend when we were just making up neat Star Wars OCs for a maybe story we were writing. Story never got finished, but Zedd stuck around. "Overkill" is more a nickname now, as his preferred method of rapid problem-solving involves liberal applications of thermal detonators. x3 Rav Masahiro & Marshall O'Donnell - These two are my second oldest persistent OCs after good ol' Zedd. There is technically one that is older (in fact, old enough that he used Zedd's moniker for a while, back when folding an OC to fit any AU was my MO), but he's kind of only half-baked, for the most part. Rav and Marshall are next in line, and are, by and large much more polished. The story they were to be set in was very grand in scale and scope, considering it was kind of a series of AUs where things in various realities were being fucked with, and they are two of a team of six who are sent out to deal with such things. If this sounds like a certain popular video game franchise from a prominent Japanese publisher, you'd be right in there being some similarities, I guess, but they predate it by about a year. Well, technically Rav predates it, Marshall didn't crystallize until about a year or so later. Powersets are very shounen-ish, I guess? Little bit of henshin and other stuff thrown in for flavor (and things have been tweaked and appended over time). Anyway, Rav's name comes from a reworking of my own name, as he is kind of my self-insert-ish guy. His last name comes from my at-the-time rampant obsession with Japanese culture (yes, yes, I'll say it, I was a weeb. The interest remains, though tempered by time, experience and education). I thought his last name meant something else, as Googling in those early days was... a crap shoot. And the fact that Masahiro is a given name in Japanese hasn't deterred me, as embarrassing as it might be, it just... is a thing now. xD (The other half-baked OC I mentioned has a similar nomenclature goof). Marshall's name kind of just, popped out of the ether, but it flows well and it fits. She does let people close to her shorten it to "Shall" (sounds like shawl). Do NOT call her "Marsh", "Marshie" or "Marsha" or she'll deck you. Like, lay you out flat with one punch. Moving on!

Xanotos Delkai - My Warrior tank in WoW. Another lad who went through some changes. xD So my first character in WoW was a human hunter back in the...alpha or beta, whenever it was they were originally playable before getting nixed. His name was Thanatos, inspired by the character of the same name from a Sega CD fighting game Eternal Champions: Challenge from the Dark Side. He was a typical Grim Reaper-y Death (as Thanatos was the personification of death in Greek mythology, and a psychopomp, I believe). I liked the name. However, the character was nuked after the alpha or beta or whatnot. So, when I remade the character for the full version, I rolled up a Warrior and named him Xanatos/Xanotos (depending on the server), or Xano. Now, I have remade and moved this character many times over the years. Delkai became his surname at some point, and when worgen came out, he was race-changed to worgen, and his backstory was shifted and fleshed out further. Fun fact: the Gargoyles TV series was the farthest thing from my mind when I made this toon, and was for many years. It wasn't until... just before or around Legion, I think? that I realized I had named him the same (if spelled differently) as Evil 90s Will Riker. xD

Akagi Obinata - And now we get to my most recent and most prevalent MMO OC, Akagi. Paladin, Tankfriend, tol dragon/lizard man. So, sadly, this boy is the third I have given a Japanese-style name to, and borked the order of, because Akagi is a freaking surname. >.< Now, I am aware that Hingashi (he was born and raised in/around Kugane) is only kind of Etheirys-Japan, but... I am just...moving on! The inspiration for his given name is one Akagi Shunsuke (or Shunsuke Akagi, in Western fashion) from the anime Dai-Guard. It is an absolutely insane super robot show and I love it, and I see a lot of myself in one of the protagonists (the aforementioned Akagi Shunsuke). So, in honor of a favorite character, I chose that. Forgetting, or blindly ignoring the fact that just because everyone in the show (save for his one relative we see) refers to him as Akagi because it is a cultural thing, and not because it is his given name. >.< What's done is done, however. His surname, thankfully, is one from a list of suggested surnames from the raen au ra lore I could find. It means "blades on waist", and I figured that there were samurai in his family line far enough back that that was the name they took. Akagi, by the way, is if I am not mistaken, "red castle", and well, he IS red. And the Paladin LB3 is a freaking castle WALL, so... it fits in a retroactive kind of way. xD (I was not thinking of his coloring, nor was I aware of what the LB3 looked like when I made him. ^_^; )

And that is it! Do I have more OCs? Yes! But they are all kind of self-contained to different things, and their names are more of a kind of mental slot machine than these goobers (plus the one xD). Hopefully I didn't ramble TOO too much, but I get excited about my homemade blorbos, y'know how it is. Thanks for reading!

#okami rambles #boy how okami rambles here xD #okami's OCs #FFXIV #WoW #SWTOR #WoW Warrior #SWTOR Smuggler #FFXIV PLD #Xanoto Delkai #Zedd Overkill #Akagi Obinata #Rav Masahiro #Marshall O'Donnell #A worgen a raen and three humans walk into a bar... xD #OC names

[writeawaythepain]

I just stumbled upon your blog looking for content about our precious partner Abe.

I wanted to ask if it's ok to request?

If so, how about Abe x Male! Reader?

The reader is a friend of Wilford's, and takes charge of the mysic in the disco (the place in the Wilford Motherloving Warfstache vid) and when they recognise each other as their past partners. They catch up?

I do hope this is ok-

After Death Made us Part

Abe x (male!reader)

How have I just realized how little Abe content there is. I hope this does our underrated detective justice, and thanks so much for sending the request!! A little different from my usual style since I tried to tie in some of the style of WMW (Wilford Motherlovin’ Warfstache). I hope you like it!

tw: a bit of alcohol, mentions blood

Word count: 2.2k

Prompts:  The reader is a friend of Wilford's, and takes charge of the mysic in the disco (the place in the Wilford Motherloving Warfstache vid) and when they recognize each other as their past partners. They catch up?

Summary: In betwixt pulling heists and captaining space expeditions, you work at Wilford’s disco club as a bartender. After closing time one day, an old friend walks through the door, one you haven’t seen in ages. One you missed wholeheartedly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Go now, shoo! Shoo! That’s all for tonight folks!” You could hear Wilford’s voice above everyone else’s as he clears out the bar for closing time. It was very late into the night, and even though Wilford didn’t adhere to the normal rules of time, you did, and you were starting to get tired. 

You focus your attention on pouring out any half drunken drinks that were left on the bar, and started wiping the counter. As the club quieted down, Wilford sauntered over to you. “Welp, tonight was quite eventful.” He said, plopping down on one of the bar stools in front of you.

“If by ‘eventful’, you mean you stabbed three people…I guess so.” You sigh, remembering all the blood you had to clean up.

“Three? I could have sworn it was more…Oh well, they deserved it for not playing by the rules. I have a strict, ‘no creeps’ policy.” You can’t help but chuckle. It’s not like they could die here anyway. Death wasn’t as permanent in this establishment as it was in others.

[ Hey you, don’t think about it too hard, ok, trust me. ]

The mood lights in the club were still on, colorful spotlights gliding across the dance floor in a dazzling display of colors. You usually loved the vibe of the lights and the music, and even the dancing people. But it had been a long night of breaking up bar fights, mostly ones Wilford inadvertently started, and dealing with just one too many drunken ‘accidents’.

You could feel a headache coming on, so you went over to the control box, flicking off the energetic music and light show. “Hey-!” You could hear from the other side of the bar, but you just rolled your eyes as you turned on some smoother, less headache inducing music, changing the lighting to move a lot slower and less intensely.

The mood of the club changed to that of a slow dance, and as you turned back to Wilford you could see him pouting.

“I’m sorry Wil, but my head is killing me right now… Come on, some jazz music isn’t gonna kill you.” He was still pouting, but he drops the issue, mumbling to himself that ‘it wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t as good as disco.’ 

You chuckled to yourself, already feeling the pounding in your head die down almost instantly. You have to wonder if that was really the your doing, or Wilford’s, but you return your attention to polishing some more glasses, humming to the smooth tunes coming through the speakers.

Wilford gets up, and to entertain himself, starts slowly dancing around the dance floor as if he had a partner. Arms out in a sort of waltz, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

After a few minutes, you suddenly hear the door open. “Sorry, we’re actually closed!” You call out, not looking up from the glass you were cleaning.

“Yeah, go away- Wait…do I know you?” You hear Wilford call out. Curiosity gets the better of you as you look up to see who had entered the club at such a late hour. But as your eyes register what, or rather who you're looking at, they widen in shock. You freeze, and apparently drop the glass you were holding because Wilford was suddenly beside you, catching it before it could hit the floor. I guess that weird teleporting thing he could do actually came in handy sometimes.

Wilford points a finger at you, and says, “Well, apparently he knows you.” He looks at the man who had  just entered the room, and finally a look of realization dawns on his face. He turns to point at the newcomer now, “Dave? No…wait...Dave?” 

“God fucking dammit Wilford, not this again. Abe! My name's Abe, you know this.” The man runs a hand over his face as he rolls his eyes at Wilford. “And who the fuck is tha-” He finally takes a proper look at you, and his expression shifts from annoyance, to realization, then to horror. 

You finally snap out of your frozen state as you slowly make your way out from behind the bar, getting closer to him, never breaking eye contact. You had long since given up trying to make sense of everything that was happening at any moment, spending time with Wilford desensitizes you to the madness…but…

The rugged detective, your partner, was standing there, right in front of you. The man who had been shot in front of your very eyes-

You shake your head. 

[ Remember y/n, thinking about it just makes it more confusing. ]

You push those thoughts out of your head, instead you reach out a hand ghosting it to the side of his face. You touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin on your hand, the warmth that ment he was alive. And that’s all that mattered.

He finally spoke, “Partner? How-” You shake your head.

“Does it really matter how?” You ask him, smiling. He slowly brings up one of his own hands and places it on your cheek as he chuckles, a deep, almost tired sound.

“I guess not.” You stay there for a moment, the fact that the other was really, actually, there, starting to actually sink in, until an eccentric voice brings you back to reality, and you both step back from one another in embarrassment. 

“Well, I better be off! You make sure you remember to close up. Oh, and get some rest.” He says, looking at you, before turning to Abe. “Nice seeing you again, detective! Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!” Wilford swung his jacket over his shoulder, and with a wave, disappears through a closet door.

Abe’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s not the exit-” You laugh. Interrupting him.

“It’s Wilford.” Abe sighs, laughing as well.

“Yea, I guess you're right.” You smile at him cockily.

“I always was, still am.” He snorted and smiled back at you, but there was a sad look in his eye. One that was thinking of a time long past, when life was simpler.

You cleared your throat. “Come on, let’s have a drink. It’s on me.”

You move back to your place behind the bar and start to pour two glasses of whiskey. Abe makes his way to a seat across from you.

I couldn’t believe it, he was alive. My handsome partner I’ve been trying so long to avenge was standing right in front of me, pouring me a drink. Working for the very same man who shot him, and myself, not so long ago. Why was it always the attractive ones that end up going batshit crazy.

You laugh as you make your way over to the seat next to him, whiskeys in hand. He looks at you confused. “You're doing the thing again.” You tell him, but his face just grows more confused.

“What thing?” He asks, taking a sip of the drink you hand him.

“Monologueing out loud? Projecting your thoughts? I don’t know what it’s called! The thing!” His eyes widen in realization, and he chokes on his drink. His face flushes slightly, as he coughs, trying to maintain his composure. 

His attempt to cover it up just makes you laugh harder. “You know, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You wink. “Especially for being dead.” He rolls his eyes, but you see the blush start to get to his ears.

“Well, I don’t feel dead, that’s for sure.” He says, taking another sip from his drink. You raise your eyebrows, you could never tell if he ever realized how suggestive the things he always said were. You decide to play into it, even if just to tease him.

You turned in your seat to face him directly, making it so your knees were touching, and put your head in your hand, leaning forward, elbow on your knee to face him. 

“I feel pretty alive right now too~” you look him right in the eyes and wink again. His face becomes as red as a tomato, and you silently cheer, proud of yourself. 

“Thats- thats not what I-” He stutters. You laugh again, downing your drink in one go, and slam it against the table. “God damn it man-” You chuckle, getting up. 

“I have to count the register, but as soon as I finish, would you want to take a walk and catch up?” He shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he tries to calm down his heartbeat and the blush on his face.

“Sure, I don’t know if I have much to say, though. I can’t really remember much.” He frowns.

“If it makes you feel any better, i dont either- Aw dammit.” Abe looks up at you as you scowl, looking at the state of the money in the cash register. This is why you always told Wilford to leave it up to you!

“Wil fucking doesn’t know how to sort cash into the god damn drawers and-” You grumble trying to reorganize it. “I know he doesn’t have to worry about money, but some of us have bills to pay!”

In response to your words, Wilford suddenly leans out from the front door, “Sorry about that, my cherished employee and dear, dear old friend-” Even though you had no idea how he heard you, you decide to ignore that and just glare at him. He shoots you a smile that no one could stay mad at, and closes the door again, disappearing with a, “You know you two love me!~” You and Abe both roll your eyes as you finish counting the cash in the drawer. Then you go to grab the keys for the front door, from the back room.

You were still in your bartender uniform suit, and it was always pretty stuffy in the club. The collar of your shirt starting to feel like it was suffocating you, so as you make your way back over to Abe, you untie your bow tie and unbutton the top few buttons of your dress shirt. You take a deep breath, feeling better already, and look up at Abe to see if he was ready to leave. 

He was shifting awkwardly, not being able to keep eye contact with you for longer than a moment, and you just stared at him, confused. “Are…you ok?” 

“Wh- what? Yea! Of course!” He blinks, “Walk-” He spins on his heel and heads towards the door. 

I guess my Partner and I are cut from the same, ‘does-a-suggestive-thing-without-noticing’, cloth. But I try to play cool, calm, and collected at their actions. I don’t think they’ve noticed anything.

You chuckle to yourself, still a bit confused, but follow him anyway. He holds the door open for you, and the two of you step into the warm summer night. You start walking in a direction and Abe follows.

“So, what parts do you remember.” You ask him. 

He sighs shaking his head, “I remember chasing after Wilford, trying to hunt him down for ages...but…that’s about it. Even the details of that are all fuzzy.” You put an arm on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. He clears his throat, “Well, how about you? What adventures has our D.A. been on?” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder.

“You’d be surprised. I robbed a museum, went to space-” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening and his attention snapping to you.

“You robbed- Space-? What-?!” You laugh at his reaction and stop walking as well. 

“I don’t know what to tell you man! I guess I’ve been busy. But in my downtime I work at Wilford’s club…and that’s about it. That’s…all I really remember, at least.” He stares at you incredulous for a moment, but then shakes his head chuckling.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were never one to back down from a challenge” he says.

Turning to a life of crime and then going to space. All while working a side job at the same time. I really do only fall for crazy people…

You smile looking at him. And for a moment the two of you just stand there, looking at each other. The slightly sad look comes back to Abe’s eyes.

…I can’t believe he’s still alive… If this is a fucking dream- …I-

You hug him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding on to him tightly. He hesitates for only a moment before wrapping his arms around your waist. His head falls onto your shoulder as you gently rub circles into his back. He practically melts into you, clinging onto you as if you would disappear if he ever let go.

“I’m here… I’m real, and I’m not going anywhere.” You press a soft kiss to his head. “You're not gonna be able to get rid of me that easily. Even death couldn’t keep us apart.” He chuckles into your chest and the two of you stay like that for a little while. The warm air of the night cocooning the both of you in a safe and comforting feeling. A feeling you haven't truly felt since the last time you saw him.

Finally, Abe lets go and takes a step back. You grab his hand, and pull him so the two of you can continue your walk. “Come on…Partner.”

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#abe x reader #detective abe x reader #wkm abe x reader #detective abe x male reader #x reader #x male reader #wkm x reader #wmw x reader #wkm abe x male reader #markiplier egos x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier fanfic #slimewrites

[dateamonster]

what’s powering this whole Angel/demon system? Are humans a part of it? Is god harvesting humans for sin and regret?

tbh i prefer to leave the more like blatantly theological aspects a lil ambiguous for funsies and to leave things open to interpretation but the gist is that, regardless of what the objective Truth may be, angels are beings who believe themselves to be the messengers, architects, and when necessary, soldiers of capital g god.

but new orders havent been coming in for a looong time, so angels, being sort of singleminded beings by nature, have just sort of been retreading the same ground over and over since bible times. studying the scripture, spreading messages of love and light, polishing up the ol holy swords in preparation for the day they are called to use them at last, etc etc etccc. its like if you combined a nun with a doomsday prepper. theres also the matter of the angel hierarchy that dictates who exactly does what to keep celestial society running on like an internal level but thats the basic vibe.

angels mostly exist within the celestial realm but they have outposts in the mortal realm as well (because demons started setting up shop there and they didnt want to be shown up). while angels are only supposed to go to earth for business purposes, theres not always a whole lot of oversight on their activities and in modern times there are plenty who are just kinda. living normal lives amongst humankind.

and in the other corner, demons. contrary to common belief, they are not all or even mostly fallen angels. theyre their own thing, occupants of the infernal realm and dealers in human misery and avarice. back in ye olde days it was just you know every once in a while one of these funney little guys with pop in the mortal realm to fuck with humans or trick them into selling their soul for a piddling bit of magic or whatever, but over time they industrialized and now hell is a massive sprawling enterprise with a highly competitive and highly confusing economic system and no clear idea who is at the top.

its an mlm. its just literally a really big slightly more evil than normal mlm scheme.

angels and demons have had beef from the very beginning, not least of all because team infernal keeps bringing those angels who cant stay the path over to their side, but also just about every non-infernal beastie in existence thinks devils are kind of a bunch of little yuppie shits. actually, neither side is particularly well liked by the rest of creature-kind come to think of it.

btw shouldve mentioned earlier but humanity in this world is like. vaguely aware of the paranormal and such. angels are more of a rarity because one of the many many rules they abide by forbids them from doing anything that could bring harm to humans (gods specialest little guys) which over time, following several Incidents, has been expanded to mean "dont reveal yourself to humans or ideally even interact with them unless absolutely necessary", meanwhile demons whole deal kind of requires direct interaction. they might keep the horns under wraps until theyve got your signature for obvious reasons, but at this point everyones got a cousins best friends uncle who did some shady shit at a crossroads and came back with a crazy story and a blurry photo of some cloven hooves or smth.

tldr god is not rly a factor here. demons deal in mortal souls for power and promotions back in hell and angels intervene wherever they can. otherwise everyones just kinda doing their own thing. its more in line with like the pop culture tradition of angels and demons as fantasy creatures of a kind more than anything specifically religious, though i think its sort of impossible and tbh kind of boring to try and avoid all the source mythology.

anyway this whole post is barely legible sry lol ill try and make a more coherent lore post on this someday

#ask #ocs #angels #demons

[reliquiaen]

As promised, here are the games I played in my Clearing The Backlog quest for 2023. I didn’t get through all of the games on my list, but I got through quite a chunk of them, so I’ll be continuing my challenge into 2024 in the hopes that eventually I’ll get all caught up! I also kind of want to write reviews for some of the games that really resonated with me,  but I don’t know when I’ll have time for that and I also don’t know what format I want to do them in, so we’ll see.

Anyway, below the cut are all the games with little summaries of my thoughts on them. I’ve started 100%ing games, but that’s not what this is about so it’s not mentioned here but most of the ones I enjoyed I completed to 100%. Figure that’s a good way of saying ‘hey I loved this’.

Released This Year & Enjoyed:

Dredge – Fishing mini-game but make it the macro-game instead, throw some Lovecraft in there, mix it in with a fun mystery. Literally it’s like someone crawled into my brain and made a checklist of things I enjoy: chill game, the ocean, sea monsters, Cthulhu, insanity mechanic, fun art style, fishing mechanic, unreliable narrators, mysteries, like oh my god. They just made a game special for me? Play it if you haven’t. Thanks.

Cyberpunk 2077 Phantom Liberty – The DLC and the 2.0 patch really did wonders, like I had a lot of complaints about the base game but so so many of those complaints were addressed by the DLC. I have so many thoughts and feelings about how Phantom Liberty changed the story and the themes and the overall progress of V’s arc and I’m just so emotional okay.

Baldur’s Gate 3 – Literally rekindling my love of crpgs, my 2024 is now gonna be all the ones I’ve been putting off for aaaages.

Above Snakes – Interesting exploration/survival game where you unlock ‘tiles’ while doing your survival stuff and you get to build the world how you want it. Can be a bit obtuse and grindy at times but it’s pretty and it’s wild west themed so that’s fun.

Terra Nil – Billed as a ‘reverse city builder’ this is just a chill game about making apocalyptic environments green again. It’s laid back and pretty, very good for after work when you’re tired.

Released In Previous Year & Enjoyed:

Dragon’s Dogma Dark Arisen – This was a revisit to polish off achievements because the sequel was announced and I’m obsessed. Go play this right now, it holds up so well, the combat is excellent, the STORY IS AMAZING GO PLAY IT!

Kingdoms of Amalur Re-Reckoning – Finally got around to this one; this is the third time I’ve bought this game and second time I’ve 100% it (maybe third? idk if I finished it on Xbox). I think that tells you something. The new Fatesworn DLC was such a grind though, don’t recommend that at all, but the base game is mwah.

Star Wars Jedi Fallen Order – Again, finishing off achievements in preparation for playing Survivor. and I understand now why past-me never 100% it originally because some of those chests were ANNOYING AS HELL. It really needed some QOL things like fast travel back to the ship and like PLEASE why does he move SO SLOWLY while force carrying something? You’re using mind magic, boy, go faster!

Mass Effect Legendary Edition – I think the last of the games I revisited for full completion this year? I think ME4 (if/when it releases) is going to be a very divisive game, primarily because this trilogy is so good, so beloved, and no matter what they do, ME4 won’t live up to it. Prove me wrong, Bioware.

Kena Bridge of Spirits – This game is SO good I made an exception to my ‘no soulslikes’ rule (which I guess I did for SWJFO also but I didn’t know that was soulslike going in) the vibes are immaculate, the art style is so cute and pretty and the story! Man it was good.

The Entropy Centre – You know how there’s no Portal 3 and we’re all really sad about it? Play this instead it will literally scratch the exact same itch. Banger puzzles, banger story, banger dialogue. 10/10 game I can’t believe I waited to play it.

Spider-Man Miles Morales – Was so thrilled this came to PC. I loved the original game when I played it on PS4 so much I played it again on PC and getting to play more? Wonderful. I’m chomping at the bit for the sequel to be ported but I’ve gotta get through Horizon Forbidden West first. And you know what? Kudos to Spider-Man for making the movement so satisfying that collectibles don’t feel like a chore. Honestly, that’s the most impressive part.

Lost Ember – Also a really lovely art style and the story had me in TEARS a couple of times like it’s SO good I would love to do a full review for this one it was an emotional roller coaster from start to finish. Absolutely DO NOT recommend you 100% it though. This game is collectible hell and it’s not fun. Enjoy the story and call it a day.

Coromon – Pokémon wishes it was this good. Seriously. The QOL features this game has makes Pokémon look like an indie title. The sprites are fantastic, the art is fantastic, the creature designs are fantastic, the story is off-the-wall batshit insane, but who cares. You can change the spinner you catch your mons in. You can select which colour morph you want. You can get a one-time chance to upgrade each mon’s stats. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg on this one, lads. Forget Pokémon. Play Coromon. (The devs are still updating it also!!)

Doom Eternal – Rip and tear, you know the drill. Was just as fun and frenetic as i was expecting. I understand why some people were saying the platforming was too much and to be fair that purple goo is my ARCH NEMESIS like who thought it was a good idea to put ‘slow down sludge’ into the ‘run and gun’ game? Imbeciles.

Spyro Reignited – Legit just cruising through the levels is so fun? Like a lil bit of childhood, and what more could you ask for? Dragons, pick up shiny things, set stuff on fire, perfect.

Abzu – Swimming around in a pretty underwater space with fishes and stuff. So chill, so good vibes, so glad I finally played it.

Dorfromantik – It’s like a… landscape builder… I guess. Place tiles with matching edges, make a pretty lil township and a forest as big as possible. It’s another one of those chill and unwinding games, you can really tell that work was kicking my ass this year, huh.

Journey – FINALLY played it. Worth. Now we wait for Sword of the Sea pls be just as good.

The Pedestrian – The puzzles are really fun, some simple, some more complex, but it has a low stake feel to it that I really loved. And the twist at the end!! Was so good!!

Stray – cat game cat game cat game

Biped – A really fun little co-op puzzle game. The controls can be a bit wonky but it’s a good time if you’ve got a friend who’ll play it with you.

The Stanley Parable – This was the year I got to unlock that achievement for not playing it for however many years that was. So I replayed it and got that. Still such a fun game. Doesn’t make me want to buy the anniversary version though.

Superliminal – More puzzles! (This will be a trend that continues into 2024 I have many puzzle games to play this year.) These ones were SO mind bending it was unreal. Like they aren’t kidding when they say to think outside the box. Forget boxes. Forget thinking. Good luck. Some of the movement was a bit rough, gave me a motion sickness feeling so be careful I guess if you tend towards that.

Assassin’s Creed & Assassin’s Creed II – Replayed these just for something fun and easy to tickle my nostalgia. They’re still really good. This is the style of AC game I really love.

Games I’m Neutral Towards:

Armello – I often feel compelled to buy games that are made by Aussie creators, this was one such case. It’s fun, honestly; it’s a hero-based game where you play matches. In my head I compare it to things like hearthstone and idk chess. You play your hand, try to outmanoeuvre your opponents, and it’s got great mechanics to keep it interesting. I had fun with it, but it’s not something that appealed to me enough to make me stick with it.

Hooked On You – Yeah, the Dead by Daylight dating sim, okay it was fun. Really silly, but really fun.

Ship of Fools – This is a cute little rogue-like where you sail through cursed waters fighting sea monsters as adorable like… um… seashell people? And it’s co-op which is why I gave it a shot. It was fine, I had more fun with it than most rogue-likes, probably because I brought a friend with me.

Sons of the Forest – Survival games are very hit-or-miss with me and while I enjoyed my time with this one, it’s best with friends and always so hard to schedule time to play. Generally, with early access games, I don’t sink a ton of time into them and this is a good example. Maybe I’ll go back to it when it gets its full release.

Destiny 2 – In the search for a game to play with all my friends, we tried this. The combat is fun but the grind is REAL and none of us wanted to commit to the many hundreds of hours Destiny was asking us to sink into it. I miss when Bungie was making story-driven single player games.

Sable – A very pretty and peaceful game that gives me similar vibes to Breath of the Wild. I had a nice enough time with it, but just like BotW, I got bored of just moseying around aimlessly. Something about the way the animation was done gave me a headache, too, but I really wanted to love it so I might go back and play it now and then. The fishing is fun. I already know I’m going to be fishing obsessed in it. That’s my end goal.

Prince of Persia (2008) & Prince of Persia Forgotten Sands (2010) – Putting these two together because you have NO IDEA how upset I am about these. I ADORED these games on the Xbox and played them so much, the stories and the combat, the art style in the 2008 game, the monster design in the 2010 game. Like. They were so good. Maybe some of that is nostalgia goggles, but replaying them this year (or attempting to, I should say) was such a chore. The controls were extremely unresponsive and I had hard crashes in both. In one case, I couldn’t even close the menu in the 2008 game. I paused it, couldn’t close the menu, it crashed. Couldn’t find any fixes, either. I am distraught.

Games I Did Not Enjoy:

Bastion, Transistor, Dead Cells, Hob, Hollow Knight, Ori and the Blind Forest, Othercide (has FANTASTIC monster designs, I really wanted to like this one)

These games all gave me more or less the same feelings: they’re very pretty with fantastic art styles (I love a stylistic commitment, and I love not-realism thanks) but with gameplay that didn’t hook me. The fight, die, repeat loop of rogue-likes/lites and the extreme precision required during combat or platforming that punishes anything less than flawless execution simply isn’t for me. I can appreciate the high skill ceilings and for some games I’ll even stick with it, but it’s a rare game that makes me want to pour hours and hours into mastering every system and mechanic. They’re not for me, and that’s okay. From now on (my 2024 gaming commitment!) I’m not going to buy a game with a fun art style unless the rest of the game also vibes with me!

#personal #reliviews #games #game backlog 2023 #welp #that's that with this year i guess #there are a lot of crpgs and puzzle games on my to do list for 2024 #so i'd say it's a good thing #there aren't a bunch of games i'm looking forward to #basically just dragons dogma 2 hfw and avowed #which are all gonna take a while now i think about it #oof #oh god and there are three games from this year i didn't get #jedi survivor rogue trader and dark descent #yowch okay nvmd #got my work cut out for me still #wish me luck guys!

[ecoamerica]

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[lostacelonnie]

Surviving is one thing but befriending the alt girls? Now thats thriving congrats on the friend acquisition. Oh yeah absolutely thats super cool of your mom. To be so chill. More parents should aspire to be so chill. Birds are just chill dudes who exist & you can see them & its great. Fuck gulls though. They're nice to look at but will be bastards if you have food in some places. Ive been trying to learn german here & there and it is. Something. Mood but for english. Who needs grammer rules fuck em. I dont know polish so i definitely cant say. You probably mentioned it that sounds familiar but dang. Well it at least wont be as bad? My joke answer is gay sex would be less gay than whatever bronya/seele & march/stelle have goin on. My serious answer is that but also that was really well paced & written. Svarog my bro. Love him. Cocolia confrontation had killer music & the interaction with preservation was cool too. Love fire stelle abilities. Mobile is tough but just gotta fuck it we ball through it. Ill definitely have to add rain world to my list. Dredge is like. Lovecraftian horror fishing sim. Its really neat. River city girls is a simple beat em up adventure game where you fight through town doin little quests on your way through the main one. Real fun easy controls & the soundtrack is real good. Please do id love to hear your exploits. Yeah i have work a lot & so does she plus her kids so i dont talk to mine much either. Im getting to the point in star rail where i am catching up like genshin so ill probably log in less on that too unless more story happens or an event catches my eye. After next planet story anyways. Im not far enough in simulated universe to do swarm disaster sadly. Just gotta. Level them characters as usual. Ps5 star rail gave me gepard which he's good but like. I want bronya

YEAH ITS GREAT and thank you!! we have different groups this year and im very happy ab this bc most of the popular girls im scared of that i shared a group with last year are in the other one now. so im chillen. yeah shes VERY epic hehehehe!!!!! love her. YEAH frfr i agree.... ab the gulls as well i almost got Physically Attacked by one when i was on a trip on an island near alicante cos i was hanging out in the sea and went towards a small island not far away from the shore. not knowing there was a gull nest on it. but i took the hint when one started Screaming at me like halfway through. god i am scared of these things. theyre cool but from a safe distance. and ahhh good luck with learning german!! i took 4 years of it in primary school and still dont know a thing. but its a very charming language so maybe when i get a solid hang of spanish, ill revisit it. tho it Is funny to joke with my friends ab how i didnt allow ppl to germanize me. german was mandatory under the nazi occupation and theres this one patriotic song with the lines "nie będzie niemiec pluł nam w twarz / ni dzieci nam germanił" [the german will not spit in our face / nor germanize our children] but these days its often used for jokes ab having to learn the language. and yeah i suppose thats true!! it is what it is. anyway. YEAH i actually agree with both the joking and serious part andkfnjjb ESPECIALLY the cocolia boss fight. GOD that was cool. i honestly dont use fire trailblazer abilities that much but yes she does come in handy. good luck with surviving on mobile o7 also keep me updated if you do end up playing it!!!!!! its unbelievably hard but like. in a good way. OOH BOTH OF THESE SOUND VERY FUN!! speaking of which i have so many games i wanna play..... but i literally just spent around 200zł [a bit under 46 dollars] two days ago [wait im gonna tell you how in a second]. which actually connects to dye update: i redid my hair since it washed off pretty quickly [but ah i look so nice in red] for the very event i ended up spending way too much money on. and yeah fair rn im actually going onto genshin more often than star rail bc the fontaine exploration + catching up on sumeru exploration is just. So fun. havent played swarm disaster yet either...... no time...... i have a Lot of stuff to do for school recently. its been like what. 2 weeks. and we already finished the first chapter from history and were gonna have an exam soon. which im Dreading btw bc for some reason i went for extended history in school despite being physically unable to remember dates. but hey at least extended geography is easy [so far]. so fuck it we ball. anyway ah congrats on getting gepard!!! hes pretty overpowered yeah but i want bronya as well [i say barely ever logging into the game]. which is pretty funny bc i already got 3 5* things on standard in star rail while being like 150 pulls in and they were two claras and GEPARDS LIGHTCONE. which i cant even use on march since i run her in clara teams in which i need the taunt on clara. Lol. but whatever. ANYWAY ABOUT THE EVENT uhhh you Might recall that i went to like a. con-adjacent thing last year. its actually just mainly for buying merch but a Lot of people go in cosplays. anyway i went this year as well and got a bunch of prints [of focalors, fischl, signora, silver wolf, kafka, and miku], and some other stuff [charms of himeko starrail, silver wolf, and kafka, as well as bronya honkaiimpact3rd and kafka pins]. and a very cute choker. so YEAH for the sheer amount of stuff i got id say its a very good price but i still feel bad ab spending so much money in one go sjdkgkgjh

#but oh well!! a small price to pay for my anime niunie #asks #pen pals

[chaoticspacefam]

Tell us about You’re In My Veins !

[This one was from a “WIP Ask Game” a while back where I listed titles/placeholder names for my current WIPs and y’all got to ask me about any that interested you! I don’t have the link anymore but yeah, context sjkgjdg]

CW: there’s a snippet at the bottom of this ask which has some suggestive/raunchy connotations. No direct actual smut (that’s already happened prior to this bit at the end 😏) but this is very much an argument about their sex life

Hoooo boy where do I start with this one? It’s one of the ones that’s been stuck in WIP hell for the longest goddamn time. Not even because I don’t like it or anything. The bits I have written of this one are still pretty solid, if anything they need some minor polishing (I was awful at paragraphing when I started this and it shows lmao 90) and it’d prolly still be post-able. But at this stage I’m not 100% sure exactly where it’ll fit into the Creeping Shadows timeline. I know its somewhere mid-to-end of Balmorra, and definitely before Voss but you know...that’s an awful big gap rn :’) I’m sure I’ll figure out where it goes eventually, but till then its stuck in WIP hell 💀 hahaha Anyway the first draft of this was meant to be like make-up smut but in true Aria fashion, she had to ruin it by deciding “nope I’m not ready for feelings yet” and she turned it into a fight (but that said, it does end with Aria seriously reflecting on said feelings even if the overall “tone” of it is that she hates that she’s having them 🤣🤣) so it’s a milestone for their relationship which does, in the end, lead to them actually fixing it for real later on down the line. As a joke I like to call it “make up sex but backwards” bc that’s basically what ended up happening with this one I can’t remember if the rules of this ask game said to include a snippet but I kinda feel bad this one was sat in the askbox for so long so have a lil snippet as a treat 💖

>> SNIPPET STARTS HERE, last warning that it gets a lil suggestive from here on out! also quite a lot of swearing, this is very much a lovers’ spat and both of them went for the THROAT XD <<

Vano’s jaw tightened. “Nice to know you were so concerned with my safety. You know, just a simple ‘hey Va, I’m not dead but I can’t be with you right now’ would have sufficed!” The Mirialan growled, sitting up on her hands, her eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. “And just for the record, I'd GLADLY die for you, even though you don't fucking deserve it.” “I never asked you to!” Aria snapped back on impulse, not thinking of the effect the words would have on Vano. “I never asked for any of this. I never asked for you to pad after me like a helpless Kath pup!!” The Marauder drew back, and Aria felt the reaction to her words sting Vano like a slap to the face. “Well, I never asked to fall in love with a self-centered bitch either, but here we are!” she yanked her robes back on sharply and sat back on her haunches to glare at Aria. “The only thing I'm sorry for, is that I was stupid enough to think that if I gave you enough time, this would be more than just fucking to you!” “I never promised you flowers and poetry, I told you it was just sex and you kept crawling back anyway!” Aria shouted after her as the Sith stormed away, grabbing her discarded equipment as she passed it. “Fine, then you can find someone else to go to bed with, because I'm DONE with you!” “You always say that, and a week later your head's between my legs again!!” she retorted, knowing the Mirialan had left the ship when no further reply came. The Jedi sank down onto the pillows and choked on the involuntary sob that left her as Vano's last words spun in her head like a swarm of angry hornets.

There’s some more filler/exposition-y stuff between this snippet and the last line but it feels prudent to mention the last line is a bit of internal dialogue (I seem to do that on occasion, first this oneshot, then Strikhedonia...guess its a writing quirk now? /jk) from Aria and it’s just: I hate how much I need you!!

#bold of you to assume i know what i'm queuing #WIP ask game #swtor sort of #subterfugeverse #creeping shadows fanfic #aria/vano #i don't wanna clog their character tags with this one since there's nothing *direct* here but i will tag the ship for organisation purposes #owo #mildly n/sfw #no actual smut in the preview but they are directly yelling @ eachother about sex so #i'm gonna tag it just to be safe lmao #tw: sex mention #tw: casual sex mention #anyway getting aria to admit she has feelings?? not today no siree #she clearly *DOES* but this bitch is so in denial she won't even admit it to *HERSELF* at this point nevermind poor vano lmao #ofc we all know they *do* sort it out eventually but this is very much bang smack in the middle of the *worst* part of their 'relationship' #where its very much one-sided and still casual sex with totally-no-feels-at-all-nuh-uh-never from aria's side of things #XD #thank you for the ask! #and once again profusely sorry it took so long LMAO #swtorpadawan

[talenlee]

Prototype 22.12 — The 2022 Prototypeapalooza

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Prototype 22.12 — The 2022 Prototypeapalooza

Just wait someone’s going to tell me ‘palooza’ is racist or something.

This year each month I dedicated some time – varying in scope and effort – to prototyping a new game. Of these games, two of them got to what I consider ‘made prototype’ stage, where I have a physical game that I can hold in my hand and share with people for proper playtesting. And that’s cool!

But I decided what I wanted to do this month, this December, was to look at the games I got, in what stages they are at, and determine what can I do with them in this last month to place orders for the rest in the hopes they’ll be available and my decks will be clear for next year to continue this process.

Presented then is a list of the games, based on the order I want to talk about them.

First of all of the 11 game designs, there are some I consider to be ‘unformed.’ That is, while I definitely worked on the idea space, the actual end product at the end of the month wasn’t really a thing I feel is close enough to an expressive form. Basically, some of these designs aren’t close enough to done that they need a lot more work.

The two prototypes here that I’m not feeling are 22.09 (Lane Chase) and 22.07 (Corner Hustle); both of these have ideas in them that I like, but neither are developed to the point where I can push them to prototype stage here. I like Lane Chase’s examination of just the base question of how to represent a game mechanic, and I like how Corner Hustle suggests creating a game board out of smaller tiles. That’s all there so far.

22.05 — Monster Line

Know what this game needs to be made into a proper prototype? a card back. This is a high priority design: I really, really want to make a prototype of this one because I find the idea of how the game plays for playtesting.

22.08 — Switch Stances

I already did a quick update on this one, when I finally clocked my basic problem of a card face. This is a game with a homogenous play form, and the card faces just need art assets and symbols. The basic structure works out super well! I think with just a little dedicated time I could get a prototype of this on its way to me this month.

22.01 — Adventure Town

I feel like Adventure Town is an idea that’s hovering around ‘done’ but it needs enough polish to be something people can play without me hanging over their shoulder. It’s a simple two pager – the page you write on with the players, and the player sheet. The player sheet can even be the rules space, huh.

Anyway, Adventure Town is in that space where I need to feel a bit more inspired and I need to feel like I can see its destination, or see some interest from some people.

Also I feel like Adventure Town has a lot of room for a lot of highly complicated polish. Like I could imagine this game having a lot of very visually impressive, clearly expressive interface, there’s room for individual cards to have special presentations, or maybe even designing it like a small flip-and-write card game to take to Gamecrafter.

22.04 — House Advantage

I think I’ve been doing a lot of simplified form games. I think House Advantage needs to return to the original complex idea where each tile has some game rule that means players are encouraged to stockpile and build resources, and the game’s timer is more about milking money out of the casino rather than just maintaining the biggest hand. I think this one might benefit from player boards as well, where rather than building up currency, you’ve got a tracker on a sheet for each character and they all increase individually.

22.06 — They Were Roommates

This is a game that feels like it’ll benefit from more and more iterations and more and more complicated designs if I get time to playtest this one. This is a design where what I want to have is a really rock solid card face so I can make sure all the information I inevitably need to convey meaningfully in the game.

This one is lower priority but I think it’ll be easy to get something I can playtest, maybe with my business card print sheets.

22.02 — Ra-Nime

I wrote an updated writeup of this game idea. I want to pursue this but what I really need to find is some anime style artist with a head full of blorbos. I need basically a bunch of anime promotional posters to serve as ‘pitches’ for genres of yuri anime, so the building aspect is now using the boards to build your characters. I can design the structure for this and the tiles for it but this one relies on finding an artist who really, really wants to design cute girls.

For money!

There are two other games that would be in this list: Camp Osum and Cloudguides. Those two games got prototyped! I have them either on the way to my house, or already in my house. I can take those to the university and play them with strangers to learn about how they react. They’re out of the list straight away.

So that’s the plan. I’m going to try through this month to examine all these games again and see which I can get a functional prototype of, or maybe push to the next stage of demonstrated prototype.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#2022GameProject #GameProject

#2022 game project #game project

[sassyhobbits]

rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

#every time i write a baby fic im like #is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies #rowaelin #my writing #tog