#i Give Up. i give up by living my life without giving a fuck

[dante-mightdie]

maybe in the middle of a shootout reader does something that automatically saves the 141 from death but 141 thinks that reader was being reckless and doesn't listen to orders so they neglect reader because reader disobeyed a direct order

please inject this angst into my veins i’m obsessed feed me more the worms are hungry

c/w: this is sad, angst, silent treatment, don’t ask me to make reader leave them I love the suffering

work stays at the door. that was a golden rule in your odd but stable relationship. even if you get pissed off with each other at work, you leave it at base until the next shift…

so apparently the boys must have fucking amnesia.

this wasn’t the first time you had angered them at work but like previously stated, it never followed you in through the front door, take its shoes off and hang its coat. never in the house

but this time you put not only your life at risk, but also civilian lives. just to save them. luckily, no one was hurt but you still disobeyed your captains orders. and just like you leave work at work, you leave your heart at home too

he was still your captain. actions have consequences so he yelled on about for a good hour whilst the others stood beside him, shaking their heads at you disapprovingly

so when you got home to find that they were clearly still in work mode judging from the way simon shrugged you off when you tried to hug him in the kitchen, stalking off to the shower and slamming the door

or from the way johnny and kyle just went straight into the garage to work out and blow off some steam, giving john a kiss and not you

and if that wasn’t enough, the way john turned his head away from you when you tried to kiss him had to be the damning evidence. his face was stone cold the entire time he was alone with you in the kitchen before he went and locked himself in the home office

it went on like that for a few days, waking up to find that they had gone out without you. conversations ceasing the moment you enter the room. the lack of affection was the worst. perhaps tied with the general loneliness. none of them had really said a word to you in days

not even when you grabbed a pillow and blanket and set up camp in the living room for the night after a week of the silent treatment

or when they heard you crying in the bathroom whilst getting ready for bed, wondering how long it will be before your lovers open their arms for you again, if they ever will…

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap #mw2 #cod mw2 #poly!141

[cutielando]

mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!

Words: 1.3k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren racing #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula 1 #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader #oscar piastri x wife!reader #oscar piastri masterlist

[miniversse]

Hello, in case your requests are without any guidelines, can you a fic like this:

You saved the life of I.N., who was fatally injured in a deal gone wrong, but you're oblivious that he's from SKZ (an underground group known to be dangerous).

Let me know if you have any questions? Thanks for considering!

⭑ “i owe you” ⭑ pt.1

⭑ jeongin x female reader

⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, causal mentions of blood and scars, mentions of other members (bang chan), reader is a doctor

⭑ note: by no means am i a doctor so please correct any of my terminology if its not used correctly.

⭑ minors dni

the red traffic light glowed in the cold, dark night, forbidding you from shutting your eyes. your car's broken clock insisted it was 12:08 AM, though you knew it must be at least 4:08 AM. The familiar alleyway you always surveyed after your dreaded shift was usually populated by drug dealers, homeless souls, and discarded beer cans. tonight, however, a figure crouched there, clutching his right hand and gazing up at the moon...

fortunately a parking spot was open right after the traffic stop and you rush your first aid kit out of the back, pacing to this odd instance. running up to strange man  at 4 in the morning wouldn’t be ideal, but you’re a doctor who believes there is good in everyone, and leaving someone hurt is morally wrong. your footsteps slow down as you approach him, eventually stopping to make out his face. 

his face was illuminated by the moon he looked up to for hope. his eyes were sharp and dreamy, reminiscent of a fox’s gaze. a fresh scar ran down his left cheek, hinting at a serious injury. you couldn’t make anything else of his condition, but it seemed severe and the only solution would be taking him home to treat him.

“e-excuse me?”

his eyes flickered to the direction of your voice, squinting at your - not too appealing - presence. regardless of his beauty, his tattoos and shredded, soiled clothes lent him an intimidating feel.

“who are you?” his voice couldn’t be described as deep, but rather a large and empty void.

“im y/ln, doctor at the local hospital here. i noticed you looked injured and came to help”

“im fine”

you moved closer to him, shining a small flashlight on his body. the injuries were severe and far from fine. knife wounds, bruises and a split lip covered his body, causing him to lose more blood by the minute.

“im sorry, but i cannot leave you in this condition”

he grunted, his grip tightening on his hand, struggling to give you an audible response. 

“just. leave.”

you act quick and throw his limp arm around your shoulder, guiding him slowly to your car. his blood seeped into your shirt, but what worried you more was his life being between your hands.

“fuck! can’t you see it’s an open wound?” your body jumped at his cries, feeling heavier with sympathy for him. you tried your best to disinfect his wounds gently, but the pain would be near intolerable.

“it’s almost over” you whispered to him, too focused to answer him back properly.

he sat on the sofa of your living room, taking in the art works you hung on the wall to distract him from the gruesome pain. every now and then he would flinch or grunt, but it’s nothing you’ve never dealt with before as a doctor.

you near the end of his ‘procedure’ and move to his face, inspecting the deep scar that ran across his cheek and his busted lip. a mix of disappointment and curiosity washed over you, expressed in a long sigh.

“what did you get yourself into?”

“nothing”

“what’s your name?” your questions were an attempt to distract the painful alcohol grazing his cuts, but his hissing and grunting never came to a stop.

“j-jeong in” 

you repeat the name to yourself, its familiarity nudging at your head. while preparing the bandages, you couldn’t help but take in his strong facial features.  he looks back at you too, eyes outlining every detail of your face. you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, so you give it up to him being an old patient but a tattoo on his neck catches your eye, denying your conclusion.

(SKZ)

“SKZ? where have i heard that before?” it sounded like something that may have been in the newspapers they handed out to the doctors offices, or something on the news channel, but the lack of sleep wouldn’t be able to catch onto anything.

“you forced me into your home to fucking question me?!” he screamed at your face, looking at you in disgust. the words caught in your throat and you felt like crying, your thoughts crashing down. today had been stressful enough, and having someone scream at you was the last straw. jeongin notices the beads of tears forming on your waterline, changing his expression in a matter of seconds.

“please, just finish so i can leave” he sighs, turning to face the sunrise that peeked through the curtains. the teardrop falls on your leg and you return to what you should’ve been doing, feeling bad for the unnecessary confrontation you gave him. 

a contact named “bang chan” buzzed his phone and he picks it up, placing it up to his ear and squirming at the pain of the alcohol on the scar of his cheek. you attempt to listen to some of the muffles from the other side, hoping you can conclude your suspicions about him.

jeongin- “yea?”

bang chan- “where are you man?”

jeongin- “getting treated by a random doctor in her house” 

his eyes dart from his arm to your face, holding your gaze.

bang chan- “are you crazy? we are high profile by the police and you’re at a random doctors house?”

his tone was clearly sterner, but all the noises you could hear faded at the thought of having someone wanted infront of you. your body stiffens but you act clueless, worried of how dangerous he may be.

jeongin- “just… ill be back”

bang chan- “man this isn’t funny at all. you’re getting us in some deep shit”

jeongin- “she looks like she wouldn’t tell a soul”

bang chan- “a doctor? you couldn’t pick a worse person to help you?”

he scans your face for any fear or regret, but you hold back any emotions until he would be out of your house and safe.

bang chan- “god you’re so fucking oblivious. be here before the afternoon”

he laughs at his comment, ending the call.

you put all the equipment back to its place as jeongin sips on a mug of green tea, slouching on the couch. as a doctor you couldn’t let him out too early and he had to be watched for at least a day. but you were worried of his criminal state and if his friend would barge the door of your house open.

“you’ll need to rest. don’t get yourself involved in any of… that”

he nods, getting up to place his mug on the counter and head for the door.

“thank you. really”

you close your eyes, nodding at him and inspecting his bandages one more time.

“i owe you”

and with that, it would’ve been the last encounter with him. many questions ran through your head but it would autopilot to your couch, falling asleep to the memory of his ethereal but odd face.

the alleyway remained significant to you, always looking for him, or for another injured individual. but with the overflowing pressure of becoming a doctor and having no time to yourself, everything would fade away and it would become endless hours of work.

FIVE YEARS LATER

you parkoured between your new neighbors boxes to get to your door, 

placing the groceries on the floor and rummaging for your key. your eyes couldn’t help but dart to the many boxes. the apartment next to you is finally occupied after a mysterious 3 years of nobody renting it.

at the collection of that thought, the door of the new neighbors unlocks, startling you. a mans back faced you, his hair orange, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. it was only when he turned that your heart may have stopped. his features were unmatched and unique, taking you a while to absorb before greeting him.

“hey! new neighbor?”

he didn’t respond for a while, looking at you with confusion.

“your name?”

“it’s y/n. im a doctor at the local hospital here. what about you?”

“jeongin”

recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading.

(SKZ)

your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.

“i owe you”

TO BE CONTINUED

⭑ TAG LIST

@captainchrisstan @rylea08 @strayywayy @all4minnie @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken

#stray kids #stray kids oneshot #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop oneshots #kpop bg #kpop smut #x reader #bang chan #bangchan x reader #lee know #lee know x reader #changbin #changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #lee felix #lee felix x reader #seungmin #seungmin x reader #jeongin #jeongin x reader #smut #angst

[jwnstars]

. ✉️ ་ ˖ ʿ ִֶָon melancholy hill. 花朵

想象 life as cupid couldn’t be more underwhelming and boring, because, even if you are a matchmaker, (or THE matchmaker) you can’t bring anyone to love you. but then jake is ready to love you for eternity.. 想象 reader thinks she’s a tad bit ugly. however, jake changes that. ( jake is obsessed with reader lolz! )

You were always the odd one out.

You never went out, you never hung out with your friends, you never goofed around at night. you never had time for anything!

People thought you just hated socializing, or maybe you didn’t like other people in general, they assumed you just liked being alone…

or you were just some loner who couldn’t gain a single friend so she copes by not hanging out with anyone.

And that was way off. In fact, you loved living. But were you someone who had time to live? No. You weren’t.

Because you were the one and only Roman God of love, lonely hearts expert, Cherub, you were CUPID. you put people together and made them fall in love, you were the reason people believe and didn’t believe in love.

maybe their relationship didn’t work out, but maybe it did. but your being on earth was why people could be with someone else, love someone destined to them.

But that’s what made you feel pathetic, you put two people together for them to have a soulmate for life, but whose arms could you creep into so you can cry and weep in their warm embrace? no one. because it was apart of the contract,

‘No use of corruption over your love bow. If you break this rule, you are erased from the face of EARTH, or, someone else can take the blame and receive the punishment instead.’ Fuck. It’s that serious? that was your exact thought, you have to live a life without a someone? a partner?

School was worse. Boys didn’t like you, girls thought you were a loser. Life when you didn’t have that love bow was a different type of sadness.

So you found yourself in the janitors room. Curled into a ball with your knees to your face, a flood of tears when down on her cheeks like there was no tomorrow. She felt so alone, so helpless. Hiccups and sniffles filled the room; she didn’t give a single care in the world if she was late.

She thought to herself, she was just ugly. It wasn’t because of the contract, instead, it was because no one was actually attracted to her. It made her violently sob like a baby, she just wanted someone’s arm around her soul, someone who can hold her until she felt safe.

“Hello? Excuse me pretty miss.. are you okay?”

You opened your salty eyes and met eyes with a guy whose australian accent was so strong and raspy, almost as attractive as how the guy was already. However, you realized, pretty miss?

“oh I’m fine.. I’m sorry, I’m gonna be late to class.” she tried getting up from her position, but it seemed like the guy didn’t want her to go. “it’s dismissal, you don’t need to hide your beautiful face,”

“You know me but, it’s Jake. Sim Jaehyun. I noticed you were crying, I wanted to see if you were okay. Are you okay? If no one asked you yet.” She felt embarrassed, “Thank you, Jake. But I need to go, I’m sorry, please don’t waste your time on me—”

“I didn’t want to tell you but, I’m not wasting time on you. It feels like I’m wasting time if I’m just gonna stand there so oblivious, I’m sorry. but you’re gorgeous, I love the way you look..

…I was your classmate since grade 6 but you just never noticed me because whenever I talked to you, you thought I was a mere joke.”

“I’m not gorgeous, Jake, and I always avoided you because I thought it was always the popular girls playing tricks on me.”

“God! You take my breath away! If you’re not gorgeous, Hell; you’re perfect!” Jake cried out, trying to bring her to realization. “You’re so sweet and kind, I don’t know why no one wants to approach you! That’s why I fell inlove with you!”

Jake, held her face so gently and she felt his warm hands on her own bones. “I might not be cupid, but I think someone as pretty as you.. would be a perfect match with someone who adores you so much. And that’s me.”

“but Jake. I’m cupid. And if I date you, I’ll be gone forever. Unless; you will be gone forever.”

“So what? If I feel your arms around me once I would be alright with not existing anymore, I just want to be yours.”

Yeah, jake wasn’t cupid. But she was, and when jake knew what were the consequences, he was seriously ready to take the blame. He would be ready to be erased off the face of earth if that meant he could be interlinked with her.

@ jwnstars !! cupid is here :^

OK. I hope that touched you guys like it did to me, this was so sentimental and precious to me. (Sorry. I just love this) the last part was my fav part writing because OMLLL ??? Jake would literally give up his life for his gf / s/o so that they could live theirs, so fricking cute !!! :’)))

He would give up his everything to be with them forever. Fuck. I might cry. ( @all4aoki witnessed me making this :3 )

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen fan fiction #enhypen jake #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake x y/n #enhypen jake x you #enhypen jake soft hours #jake enhypen x you #jake enhypen x y/n #jake enhypen drabbles #jake enhypen x reader #jake enhypen fluff #jake enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jake #sim jaeyoon

[c0mbatchameleon]

hi anna my love would you mind telling us what the possession au is about 🥺🤲🏼💗

LUNEEE ABSOLUTELY ABSOFRUITLY I CAN.

Ok so the tldr here is James is a demon that possesses reg. This all came from a drunk 3am note in my phone about the “intimacy of literally inhabiting the same body, to become a singular noun; my thoughts are yours now, you don’t even know where you end and I begin, your soul would feel so empty without me here to fill in all the gaps” etc etc. Right ok. Long ramblings below, be warned.

So picture regulus, our resident high-strung control freak who has lived as a puppet on a string at the whims of his family ever since he was a teenager and they began staging him to join / eventually take over their major capitalist conglomerate empire or whatever. Iffy on the details still but there’s a lot of politics involved. Think like the richest of the rich in the world and they want to keep their family on the top—regulus is their vessel to do so.

And the thing is, he goes above and beyond. He gave up on trying to escape the life he’s been (to him) imprisoned in a long time ago, and his (perceived) lack of control and agency has only driven him to climb higher, hungry for even more disgusting amounts of wealth and power, fuck everyone else, he wants to be at the fucking top, and maybe then he’ll be free. He’s terrible and he’s miserable and he’s everything they wanted him to be, he feels like a slave to time and to the life that was carved out for him, and it manifests in him exerting extreme amounts of control over the one thing he can have some semblance of control over, which is his own body.

(slight tw for disordered / obsessive eating / body habits?)

Picture him scheduling his days down to the minute. He wakes up at 5:30am everyday after getting the exact amount of sleep to complete five rem cycles, he has a strict workout regimen every day perfectly planned out for the week, meals all the same mapped out down to the calorie. You’d think he’s in the army. His skincare routine puts patrick bateman to shame. He jerks off once a week cuz he thinks it has health benefits or keeps him sharp or something (if you’ve watched The End of the Fucking World I’m pretty sure this is where my brain subconsciously picked this from) and it’s mechanical and he’s dead in the eyes and he knows it will take him exactly 5 minutes and 8 seconds to come.

And then. Suddenly. He’s having weird dreams about some man he doesn’t know and they’re making him feel things when he has specifically trained his body to NOT feel things and what’s happening to him? And then dreams become daydreams. And then he’s losing time. HES LOSING TIME. Which is literally his worst nightmare. It’s making him fuckinf spiral, his routines are being thrown off, the small semblance of control is slipping, so he’s already at his wits fucking end when a goddamn voice in his head starts talking to him. Like that’ll do it.

But then the voice, the man, the figure from his dreams, James, is telling him to relax. Telling him you’re so wound up. I can feel it, you know? How tired you are. It’s okay baby, let me take the reins for the day. You just have to sit back up in that head of yours—of ours—and let it all turn to static for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your body back tonight. Don’t you trust me? Wouldn’t it feel good to just.. let go for a bit?

And eventually regulus discovers that it DOES feel good. He fucking loves it. He gives up control willingly for the first time, he lets James do it all for him, to move him around like a puppet in the most literal sense but it’s different from his family, from everyone else. It’s freeing.

and it’s like this weird corruption-anticorruption thing because yes james is influencing him and planting thoughts in his head and literally taking over his body at points but it’s all to make him do…kinda good things? “Fuck the company, don’t show up today, let’s go to the coast like you used to as a kid,” “don’t pick up the phone, I know you’ve never declined your mother’s call before, but just try. Don’t you feel powerful?” Until eventually reg is sabotaging the company, his family, he’s basically suicide-bombing the stock market, he’s giving all his money away, etc etc. he’s more free than he’s ever felt in his life and to the outside world he looks absolutely insane and, shit, maybe he is, but it feels fucking amazing.

I just love the thought of James’ more mundane influence on him too. He’s craving hot Cheetos for the first time in his life and absolutely appalled and confused and James is like “shit my bad I was thinking abt them.” James has him smoke weed for the first time (the scene I have planned for this……) and he has to take over to roll the joint for him. Why the fuck is reg enjoying abba music? But also—why the fuck is a demon enjoying abba music?

I’ve rambled way too much so I’ll reign it in there. Lots of details subject to change, but this is basically all I’m thinking abt these days.

#lovely lovely lune thank you for indulging me #I fear this response got away from me. forgive me—I’ve been possessed once again #fic / possession au #lune tag #mail #jegulus #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter

[wetcatspellcaster]

Metapost: "The Ascendent"

**this is a meta for my fic, Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth, and NOT a discussion of the BG3 game canon in any way. If you try and make this into a disk-horse, I will BITE you**

(spoilers under the cut for Chapters 1-23 of Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth).

So... remember in the Chapter One endnote when I said I was a Spike/Buffy fan first, and a person second? x

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

In more seriousness, there was a number of fictional seasonings/ingredients that went into creating what I felt was the villain of a Gothic horror, and what I felt could turn the Ascendent into something that was both 'fixable', and something I enjoyed writing.

Those ingredients were:

Spike and the idea of 'soulless' vampires in the BtVS canon - do I like this conceit of BtVS worldbuilding and how it's used in the show? No. I think it often underlines how bad Whedon is at writing romance. BUT I do think it gives Buffy this free pass for which vampires she can/can't like or adopt, and I needed some of that for my protagonist. I need a 'I can fix him' moment - BtVS has those in fucking SPADES.

Howl's Moving Castle (this one was accidental, I'm still mad at myself but I can't deny it's there) - man conducts magic ritual for power, removing an essential part of himself in the process that needs to be returned

Picture of Dorian Gray (the idea of an exterior staying pristine while something hidden suffers and decays)

Curse of Strahd (the soulless in Barovia, which I mentioned in Chapter 23)

The idea of default moral alignments in D&D. I have a whole chapter arguing against this in my thesis (mostly bc it's often applied to entire races) but I was fascinated by creating a set of circumstances where I feel like a default moral alignment is valid, actually. 7,000 deaths seems like a good set up. I wanted to imagine a being that was trapped within a default moral alignment, and the laws of its very being prevent it from being good no matter what it tries, and it knows that (this kind of creates a feedback loop with the Spike/Buffy stuff)

The parts of the BG3 canon I took and REMADE (I'm stressing this throughout, I was making a horror story and a horror monster your honour):

Astarion conducts the Rite of Profane Ascension with scars on his back, but has to scar Cazador's back personally, suggesting that um... the Rite REALLY SHOULDN'T BE CONDUCTED BY SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THOSE SCARS. Cazador wasn't going to do it that way, is all I'm saying!!

The idea that Ascended!Ending Astarion is a concentrated version of certain traits that have persisted throughout his story - his flirtiness, his understanding of sex as a mechanism and expression of power, his use of a façade as a mask for trauma he refuses to acknowledge.

The lines alluding to dissociation in the brothel foursome, post-Ascension.

The idea that Astarion seduced Tav to survive or protect himself- in my case, because I made the Ascendent empty save for Astarion's survival instinct, the idea that he would gravitate towards Tav as one of his default modes to potentially survive made sense to me - this is why it becomes an obsession.

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

For me, when writing, the Ascendent is a few things:

An intensification of vampirism in a different, fucked-up direction. Yeah, A!Astarion, you can walk in sunlight and you can eat and drink and don't need blood. But you are still a hungering maw of emptiness that feels like it will never be whole or close and connected to the living - just now in a wildly different, metaphysical/existential direction! Welcome to depression, alienation, and otherness!

A soulless being, that knows it is soulless - that initially was very happy with its life but then as the years passed, increasingly spends its every waking moment knowing there is something innately wrong with it that it can't seem to shake, no matter how much it engages with life and all the pleasures of life. (see the 'every meal without savour' speech)

A magically literal metaphor for Astarion's dissociation in moments of extreme trauma, up to and including the fight with Cazador - essentially, the moments when there is nothing but a performance or an exterior, because the self/soul are suffering and they cant' come to phone right now

Astarion's survival instinct. As I say in Chapter 23 - Mephistopheles thinks it is an empty body, who's performance is trying to deny the reality of it's own existence. Rosalie, who has a bit more understanding of Astarion, sees that the performance is not just a coping mechanism but one of Astarion's main modes of survival. The Ascendent is Astarion's survival instinct/techniques for endurance, without any soul or person behind them to protect. This is how I tried to tie in the flirty, hypersexual persona and wrap it with a bow.

I wanted a monster that was undeniably scary, and monstrous to me (oh? you can't fit in or be happy no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, and you think there's something intrinsically off? how's that autism diagnosis going Emma) but that I also felt sympathy and true sorrow for. I needed to have motivations for him chasing after Tav that I could write meaningfully from and sympathise with.

Not only has Astarion used Tav as a life-raft once before, they've also proven to be the most secure thing he's ever clung to. Of course a rabid survival instinct Astarion would become obsessed, and see them as a potential solution to the problem (this was then intensified by Rosalie also being a walking, overbearing moral compass, and having bound him in a contract in the first week of living, accidentally - a lawful good immoveable objects meets a default moral alignment unstoppable force.)

...Because I also wanted that moral alignment spice!! Wizards of the Coast, default moral alignment is fucked up actually!!! Imagine something trying so desperately to be good - literally being bound in a pact and having been told to be good - but the laws of the universe and its very essence are like "nah mate, we kind of want to destroy and annihilate everything, we're neutral evil personified". That's scary!! that's fucked up!! that's what a birth from 7000 deaths gets you!!!

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

So, now for the actual timeline, for people who aren't interested in my silly musings but mostly just want answers lmfao.

Rosalie makes the decision not to intervene in Cazador's mansion, making it seem like she'll support whatever decision Astarion will make there.

Rite of Profane Ascension happens. Astarion conducts the ritual, rips his own soul from his body, the Ascendent is born with literally zero context. Mephistopheles is fucked in Cania, because a bunch of stuff has just gone wrong.

(oh, by the way, the Ascendent knows Infernal as a default language. Bc it's born from an Infernal rite.)

The Ascendent is now default neutral evil, and feeling some kind of way. Rosalie and him break up. He's supposed to have everything, but the one thing he thought was a done deal - his most stalwart suppporter - just rejected him.

Netherbrain defeat (the Ascendent is not invited. Imagine being an all-powerful, hypersexual survival instinct vampire, and your ex-girlfriend neither wants you for sex, nor your power.)

Rosalie accidentally binds the Ascendent (a soulless devil) in a pact demanding that he never kill anyone, when that's literally what the Ascendent's new existence/new default moral alignment is driving him to do. Then, she fucks off and goes into hiding.

Well. The Ascendent can just get another wizard, to help him learn all of Cazador's secrets to cope [Hemlock is recruited].

The years go by! The Ascendent is doing sooooo well. Everything is great, guys! I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I have lavish parties and lots of sex - why do I feel nothing? I'm a vampire perfected - I have no hunger for blood, I can walk in the sun, I can enjoy all the freedoms of a living, breathing man - why do I feel like I'm starving? Why does everything turn to ashes in my mouth? I have friends - oops, I've sabotaged all those friendships with my innate neutral evil destruction. Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I'm doing everything right? Why doesn't it feel that way?

Also, I can't kill anything to feel better about it, because my hidden ex-girlfriend bound me in a pact.

In this time, to reflect the gradual degradation of the Ascendent's happiness and it's increasing awareness that it is something Other and innately wrong, the reflection starts going weird. Starts going strange. Starts getting a bit fucked up. Almost as if, when he looks in the mirror and sees a person, *nothing* should be what's there. Imagine being a spawn who couldn't see your reflection, and then a vampire who could see it's reflection, but knows that they're innately empty. Knows there's nothing there. I'd freak out a little bit about it as well tbh, I'd go a bit tooth and claw and elongated jaw about it.

The Ascendent finally admits that's there must be something kinda fucked about it. Life just ain't working out, lads. He starts looking for any and all impossible cures that will help with the malaise in his soul (and that innate essence problem, caused by default moral alignment). These include: more bad decisions, such as a house in Cania bc the Ascendent is hoping he'll feel more at home with devils than he does with mortals. All it does is make him feel more isolated and alone.

But eventually, he settles on two things! - Wish (Hemlock's idea), and Rosalie (the Ascendent's idea). Clearly, we just need Rosalie back! Her leaving is actually what fucked him up in the first place - none of this existential bullshit! She fixed us one, she can fix us again.

But looking for Rosalie hasn't worked out. In order to get a shot at her, the Ascendent goes and bargains for his own soul from Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, adding a new sheet in excel titled 'what the fuck happens when i give this soulless monster a soul to play with?', agrees and starts tracking his new data.

Obviously, just putting the soul back in yourself will fix you. But the Ascendent, the nothingness living inside Astarion's body, will die. Taking the soul back would erase itself. The Ascendent - who is survival instinct personified - would never do this.

So instead, it starts interviewing and cannibalising the soul. Bc a soul is what it needs, this is the closest it's ever felt to being alive. Bc it's made this all about Rosalie, he thinks he's found his solution. The chase is making him feel alive again. It's true love, lads! not the soul.

Wish auction happens - the Ascendent is beaten to the punch by some unknown (hot) wizard.

This avenue cut off, the Ascendent makes the decision to try and win Rosalie back.

Astarion advises that to make her come back to the Gate, he should murder a bunch of people. Because this comes from the soul, not the soulless devil nothingness, it circumvents the pact.

...The events of Pieces begin!

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And finally - the Ascendent tries to destroy Jar!Starion for many reasons in Chapter 19:

The Ascendent knows that it dies, if the soul and the body get reunited (or is that constant high alert survival instinct just no longer needed, because the problem is fixed? you decide.)

The Ascendent values Tav above itself. Tav is going to fix them. Astarion believes he could never fix himself.

Dissociation - that soul isn't me. I'm here, looking at my soul. If I get too close, it'll kill me.

Self-hatred - that soul isn't me. That man made a mistake, and I've had to live with the consequences. He doesn't deserve to live, for what he's made me become.

The knowledge that Rosalie/Tav will only ever want that version of him, not the one that's living and breathing, that sees itself as the most wretched, fucked-up version of itself. So... give them no choice. They have to deal with me and love me at my worst.

And if the Rite didn't work - if the version of the Ascendent walking around isn't the best one, and the one people want... what was it all for? Why does the Ascendent feel like this? Why does it have to suffer?

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

....And, that's my little meta post! If anyone has any questions about the timeline or any motivations at any points in the fic, I'm obviously more than happy to explain things via ask/comment, as always!

TLDR: I just wanted to make a Gothic horror. I wanted a dark romance, fucked up obsession vampire/mortal dynamic, but I also wanted a situation that was scary for both Astarion and my Tav. I personally think an Astarion who is so dissociated and separate from reality that he feels that in his bones daily, is scary. It's the lingering impact of the traumas the Rite and those 7,000 souls embodied.

I was literally just trying to make it a horror, for everyone involved.

#metaposts #long posts #my writing #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth #spoilers! #i've never really explained my writing process before in this depth so... I hope it makes sense! #writing meta

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?

A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?

It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.

Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.

He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.

Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.

As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.

Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.

The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.

It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.

When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.

All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.

He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hello! I really liked that one ask where the farmer was a dragon, can we have that one with all the sdv bachelors? even some npcs and/or the bachelorettes if you want? thanks!

Heya! You mean the reaction to Dragon!Farmer? Sure, why not! ☺️ (Hope you don't mind if I'll do sdv bachelors only).

Only that past ask specified a male Farmer, but since there's no clarification here, I made Farmer neutral (they/them). Thanks for the ask!

_________________________________________

"Well, now I know exactly what I'm going to call the next chapter of my autobiography." Farmer had to give Elliott credit: their ginger haired husband held his own, not fainting or screaming in terror when they appeared before him in dragon form. Though they realized from the exhausted smile and pale face that it was better to stay close to catch the writer's body at any moment.

Shane kind of quit drinking.... And he never took any of other stuff thar can make so hallucinate. Then why the hell is there a giant reptile flying over his head right now calling him "darling?" That's what only the Farmer calls him.... And now this overgrown lizard landed in front of him and turned to his favorite spouse again, looking at him with a guilty smile. Just a regular Tuesday for Shane, for fuck's sake...

A tense moment for the Farmer themselves as they finally reveal true form to Sebastian, love of their life. They wait for his reaction, what he will respond, shock and horror on the emo's face. But in the end, Sebby's brain goes to autopilot and he spews out, "I've seen bigger." What... Now it was Farmer's turn to gasp in shock. "Have you seen other dragons?" Farmers don't know if they asked it out of surprise or even jealousy, while Sebastian was still stunned.

It seems that Sam's bewilderment and shock passed very quickly, because anyone else would have started showering him with questions: how long or why didn't you tell me before? But not the young guitarist, because the first thing that came to his mind was "Will you take me for a ride? This would be cool!" On the other hand, things got around without panic, so that's good.

Harvey, as a doctor with experience, was mentally prepared for anything. Apparently, not everything, because the poor man fainted at the sight of a huge dragon on the place where just a minute ago Farmer was standing. The local doctor wakes up with a headache, and the first thing he sees is Farmer's worried face, already in human form. Phew, so Harvey was imagining things and it was just a dream, right? Heh, poor Harvey...

"Now what am I going to tell my grandma?" Somewhat surprisingly, Alex uttered those words not because he was surprised by the Farmer's true form itself, but because they scared him so badly that the athlete dropped a dozen eggs. "Honey, we live on a farm, we have plenty of eggs. And anyway - there's a dragon in front of you." "Dragons later, chicken eggs for Grandma first." And he added that they were the weirdest and coolest person in the whole world, and that he loved them. But don't let the Farmer scare him like that again.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

[sissylittlefeather]

Hi Sissy! If it’s not too late, could you do a Fic of Elvis based on the song “Help Me Make It Through the Night?” Like Elvis and you know you’re not good for each other, but you can’t stay away. Can develop into smut but if you’d prefer not, that’s okay too! If it’s too late, I completely understand! Thank you! 😊

@peaceloveelvis Hi! Definitely not too late! First of all, this is one of my most favorite songs. I actually have a series planned to go with this song later, so stay tuned. But also, I haven't written anything without smut in a LONG TIME. This one came out this way and I might revisit it to expand on the smut later if there's interest, but I kind of like it without it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet!

Help Me Make It Through the Night

Warnings: none really, cussing, mentions of sex

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

Elvis has been a part of your life since you met him during his Timex special with Frank Sinatra. The only thing you did more than make love relentlessly was fight endlessly. The nights were hot, but the mornings never failed to conclude with both of you yelling and at least one of you crying. There was no end to the way you loved each other or the way you managed to drive each other insane. There was always something to fight about and you left each other every time swearing you'd never be together again. But somehow, you'd end up in the same place and before you knew it you were naked in an elevator or in his backseat or in a bathroom or a hotel bed in some sketchy by-the-hour kind of place. Even after he got married, you didn't stop. Your pattern of fucking and fighting stayed the same.

In 1969, though, you had a particularly spirited tryst that ended with both of you saying things you regretted almost instantly. But you were both too stubborn to admit it, so instead you threw a shoe at him and screamed at him to get out and he called you a name and swore he'd never end up in your bed again. This time, the pain you caused cut so deep that you both insisted you'd never give in again. It was over, for real this time. The hurt was too much to make the good times worth it.

So, you did what any self-respecting woman would do. You married someone else.

When he heard about it, he broke an end table and all the things sitting on it in a fit of rage and jealousy and something else he was afraid to admit.

On your wedding night, you cried yourself to sleep with your new husband snoring quietly next to you in the bed.

Then, in 1971, you find yourself walking down the street and come upon a loud and frantic crowd. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you look to see what all the commotion is about. The crowd parts like ill-meaning clouds and he looks up at just the wrong moment.

His blue eyes pierce you straight through to your soul, even from across the street. Something inside you jumps and your hand goes to your throat. Memories of every time you've ever been together slam into you like a freight train and you're somewhere between ecstasy and wanting to die. By the look on his face, you can tell he's experiencing something similar. Everything inside you is screaming at you to go to him, but you feel the cold little ring on your finger and know that you can't. You turn and walk away as quickly as you can. He fights to get away from the crowd around him, but by the time he does, you're gone.

******

You're pacing the floor of your living room when the phone rings. Even several hours later, you haven't recovered from your encounter. You pick the phone up aggressively, annoyed to be distracted by the call.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Presley would like you to meet him tonight at the Presidential Motel at 11pm." Your blood runs cold.

"Why?" The line clicks with no answer. He's left the ball in your court and you hate it. You won't meet him. You just won't. He's impossible.

But at 10:45pm you're in your car. You've spent the last several hours trying to remind yourself of all the reasons you hate him. You finally decide you're going to see him just to tell him that you don't care what he says; you were serious last time. This is not a thing anymore and it never will be again.

At 11:06pm, you sit in the parking lot of the motel, a battle raging inside you.

"This is stupid." You mutter, finally getting out of the car. At the desk, you ask which room Mr. John Burrows is staying in. The clerk tells you and you stomp towards his room getting more and more angry as you walk. The nerve of him to think he can just summon you like this.

You pound on the door with every ounce of rage your body can contain flowing through you. The door opens slowly and your heart skips. Why does he have to look so good?

"You came."

"What the fuck could you possibly want to say to me?! The last time you saw me you called me a whore and said you'd rather swallow a knife than see me again. So, whatever you have to-"

"I miss you."

"You... what?" He speaks again slowly and deliberately.

"I miss you." It feels like your stomach has fallen to your kneecaps. "I'm lonely, honey."

"Call your wife."

"Will ya just... no. I want you."

"Have you forgotten-"

"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry." He's never apologized to you before. You stand in stunned silence just outside the door.

"You're-"

"Sorry. Yes. Now, will you come in please?" You stand there completely lost. Finally, he grabs your arm and drags you into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"What the hell, Elvis?!" He pulls you close to him and presses his lips to yours. For a second, you melt into him. Then, you remember why you were mad and pull away angrily.

"No, I'm not-" He pulls you in again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you more deeply this time. You fight to get away, but he holds you tightly. Eventually you're able to escape his grasp and you push him backwards. He goes to grab you again and you slap him across the face. Your hands go to your mouth in shock and he looks at you stunned.

"Oh god, I'm-"

"I guess I deserved that." He walks to the bed and sits down. "You actually hate me, don't you?"

You stand there for a few seconds before sitting down beside him on the bed.

"No. I don't. But we said this was done."

"I know. I'm just... I'm alone, honey. And I miss you so much it hurts worse than being with you." You look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. It comes to you that he must be pretty desperate to put himself in this position.

"You're alone?"

"You know how it gets for me. There's people everywhere, but I just... I miss you."

"Why me?" He rolls his eyes and looks at you finally.

"You gonna make me say it?"

"Yes. If you want me to stay here, then-"

"I love you. I've been in love with you since I met you. You're the only one I want when I feel like this and it's been so long-" You reach out and put your hand on his knee and he looks down at it, setting his on top of yours, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.

You're used to these vulnerable moments from him. They're what has brought you together over and over throughout the years. So when he breaks down and sobs, you pull him into your arms and hold him without thinking. Somehow you end up lying in the bed with him cuddled tightly against you, head on your chest. You stroke his hair and hum quietly. This is a familiar position for the two of you and you've missed it more than you care to admit.

Eventually, his breathing evens out and you realize he's fallen asleep. You kick your shoes off and snuggle in to spend the night. As angry as you were, you can't deny him what he needs because the truth is you love him too and you always have. You kiss his forehead and hold him tightly. You've missed this too.

******

In the morning, you make love and it's sweet and sensual and exactly what you've both been needing. And this time you don't fight. Somewhere in the year you were apart, you grew. The love that you have is more important than anything that might separate you.

And as you lay naked together, the world opens up for you. He talks about leaving his wife and you decide your husband will be better off without you.

Will it happen? Will you finally find a way to be together in a way that works for you both? You don't know.

But you made it through this night together. Something tells you that you can make it through anything now.

******

The end?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fluff #elvis fic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley x you

[harlowhockeystick]

i present to you, straight from the tortured poets department...poetic prompts written by the chairman herself.

⎯ send in any one of these poetic prompts, no more than two at a time please, and i will give you a gut wrenching, heart breaking, life giving, fresh air breathing blurb...just as the chairman intended.

sincerely, writer for the tortured poets department anthology specialist

fornight - "i love you, it's ruining my life"

the tortured poets department - "sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me"

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - "he was my best friend"

down bad - "fuck it, i was in love"

so long, london - "you'll find someone"

but daddy i love him - "me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy"

fresh out the slammer - "i will never lose my baby again"

florida!!! - "love left me like this and i don't want to exist"

guilty as sin? - "without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?"

who's afraid of little old me? - "so tell me everything is not about me"

i can fix him (no really i can) - "trust me, i can handle a dangerous man"

loml - "you said i'm the love of your life, about a million times"

i can do it with a broken heart - "you gotta fake it til you make it"

the smallest man who ever lived - "i don't miss what we had"

the alchemy - "he just comes running over to me"

clara bow - "you're the real thing"

the black dog - "i don't understand how you don't miss me"

imgonnagetyouback - "i can tell when someone wants me"

the albatross - "i'd visit in your dreams"

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - "if you want to break my cold heart, say you loved me"

how did it end? - "but i still don't know, how did it end?"

so high school - "you knew what you wanted, and boy you got her"

i hate it here - "i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine"

thanK you aIMee - "i can't forgive the way you made me feel"

i look in people's windows - "does it feel alright not to know me?"

the prophecy - "i'm so afraid i sealed my fate"

cassandra - "that's where i was when i lost it all"

peter - "i thought it was just goodbye for now"

the bolter - "oh, we must stop meeting like this"

robin - "you'll learn to bounce back"

the manuscript - "i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it"

p.s. you can find in my directory, the list roster of different men i'll write poems for. please refer to that only, if you would. here is the link <3 oh, and send your requests here. you may also request from my au list, which is found here. that's all for now. see you when it's time to write about heartbreaking princes and screaming from tall towers.

⎯ j

#I AM SO EXCITED #ttpd prompts #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #bruce wayne #spencer reid #carmen berzatto #rafe cameron #j's writing

[msfcatlover]

I have been thinking so much about Jean-Paul Valley in my Reverse!Robins AU. Specifically, how he’d react to Steph’s return.

Because, listen: here is a man who had his autonomy stripped from him. Had his identity stripped from him. By the cult his father secretly raised him to serve, while letting Jean-Paul think he was having a normal childhood (and he did. That is one of the things I like about JPV as a character; in the original “Azrael: Fallen Angel” & “Knightfall” stories, he had a perfectly normal childhood… aside from the hypnotic brainwashing implanted while he slept.) This guy who was tricked into murdering several people, when he never, ever wanted that.

He gets saved by the Bats. And they help him. They really, genuinely help him, and sure, Duke & Damian are still teenagers (JPV’s like… 20-22 at this point in my mind,) but they’re also his anchors to reality. Damian, who also was raised to be a weapon by someone he should’ve been able to trust. Damian, who has experience with cults & rebuilding your identity after losing everything. Damian, who’s basically JPV’s “Brainwashed Cult Assassins Anonymous” sponsor. Duke, who also had a normal childhood. Duke, who knows Gotham like only a kid who was raised in its heart can. Duke, who agrees that this whole situation is certifiably fucked, but never hesitates to help Jean-Paul potentially recover a lost memory or find a new one, because it’s not just about who Jean-Paul was before the cult of St Dumas got their hands on him, it’s about remembering that he’s a living human being right now.

They take him in. They save him. They help him save himself. Bruce offers to pay for him to go back to college, for fuck’s sake!

They gave him his life back.

Jean-Paul can never, ever repay them. They tell him they don’t need it, but he wants to and he can’t. He feels so selfish to take & take without giving back, but how do you pay someone back for all that?

So his couch is always open to them, whenever they want. He’ll be their ally, their friend, their confessor, their confidant, their homework editor if need be. And when newer batkids join, well, Jean-Paul would’ve done his best anyway, but the fact he’s entrusted with Duke & Damian’s apprentices is just. It’s something else. And it’s hardly a hardship—the kids are a delight. Obnoxious, sure, and messy, and pushy, and constantly interrupting, and sometimes they break his stuff, and always they eat all his food, but Jean-Paul has more civilian friends now, and they tell him that’s just what kids are like.

What matters is that he loves them. He loves them because Duke & Damian love them, and then he loves them for being them.

And then. Stephanie. Dies. (Because Jean-Paul is broken, he’s a sinner, he can never make up for what he’s done, what he is, and he can never have nice things. Because Steph was sunshine & rage & stubbornness, because she joked that “We blondes have to stick together!” Because no one was there for her when it mattered most. This has to be punishment, right? He got too close, and Steph paid the price.) (His therapist says he’s being irrational again, but it doesn’t feel irrational. They say they need to adjust his medications. Jean-Paul knows better than to trust himself, but he can trust in Bruce to make sure the therapist is safe, so Jean-Paul doesn’t fight it. He’s not happy, but he doesn’t fight it. Because if he starts hallucinating again, he knows it won’t just be his father hovering over him, demanding to know why Azrael refused to avenge them. So yeah, sure, adjust the meds if you think it’s needed—he doesn’t miss Steph that badly. Yet.)

And then. Steph. Comes. Back.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead, but she’s different, she’s so very, very different. Damian says she fights like she spent time with the LoA, that same cult that raised Damian which he’s told Jean-Paul so much about over the years. Training like that takes time, but it’s been 6yrs, and she’s back, risen & gifted back to them! And she’s killing, but Jean-Paul’s killed before, and he’s been kidnapped by a cult before, and he thinks he knows how this goes. Death Mask isn’t Azrael, but he thinks it’s close enough.

And. And. And. He can save her. Because he knows what to do now, after nearly a decade in recovery. He can make up for his sins, he can bring her home again, and maybe, finally, he’ll have finally managed to pay them all back! He can give Steph her self back to make up for—(“You didn’t kill Stephanie,” his therapist reminds him, “you never laid a finger on her. Remember? You didn’t hurt her. It’s not your fault.” But it feels like it is, it feels like it, he can’t shake the idea that he did)—and he can give the Bats their sister back to make up for all that they’ve given him over all this time! A life for a life, and yes! This feels right!

He cooks up scenarios, imagines Steph reaching out in a moment of lucidity, or showing up injured on his doorstep guided by muscle memory, or running into her on the street or in a cafe and the look of alarm & recognition in her eyes as she—like he did, still does occasionally—knows that she knows him but can’t remember. He imagines the conversations they could have, all the different variations, and knows that it will take time, but patience is a virtue and Jean-Paul’s gotten rather good at it. He can be her anchor.

He just needs to figure out how to start.

(And meanwhile, Steph’s on the other side of Gotham like, “Why are my ears burning, and why do I feel like I’m staring down a tsunami-level wave of second-hand embarrassment right now?”)

#red hood steph #red hood!steph #red hood stephanie brown #red hood!stephanie brown #Villain Stephanie brown #Antihero Stephanie brown #jean paul valley #jean Paul valley #jeanpaul valley #azbats #dc azrael #Dc azreal #Reverse!robins #reverse robins au #reverse robins #reverse order robins #Reverse order betkids #Reverse batkids #reverse batfam #reverse batfamily #Batfamily #batfam #batkids #stephanie brown #batman #my writing #mine #// #I actually like him a whole lot—just not in any comic I’ve read so far. #JPV you are so fun & interesting on a conceptual level! Sure hope the DC writers do something fun & interesting with you at some point!

[feelinungry]

and i will always, always, be defending the "plot-holes" that are not actually plot-holes at all. i've seen people on facebook complain so many times about the ending of the game - about the siege of talmberg to be more exact.

"just attack it", "just take it down", "why doesn't divish just do it", "ohh his wife he can't even fuck! nobody gives a damn", "henry doesn't even really care for radzig at this point" etc.

and i have to go back to that one solitary thing this game literally cannot exist without: love. it's the main aspect, it's the pillars the story stands on, it's everything.

medieval movies and books like to picture the old times ala skyrim: "my son was very young when he died. but he did so while doing his duty. he fell for skyrim! he fell for the empire! i do not mourn for i am proud!"

"oh, i loved my father more than anything. but he is gone now. that is life."

it is. but. hear me out. people back then - were actually just like people now. we break down when we lose someone we adore, cherish, love, protect. no matter how stoic we may be, we don't take it lightly, do we?

so, if you think about it, is it a plot-hole, when divish refuses to attack his castle because

it's his home and he loves it

his wife is in there

his friend is also in there?

robard would not attack if it were divish in there. radzig would not attack if it were henry in there. hans would not attack if it were hanush in there. istvan would not attack if it were erik in there. captain bernard would not attack if it were hans in there.

it all comes back to love. and wanting people you care about safe.

martin running back to certain death because his wife is in the village when the cumans attack.

both parents worrying about nothing but their beloved son even while they are being brutally murdered.

everyone on talmberg willing to lock henry up just to keep him away from skalitz (for reasons yet unknown).

theresa making a last stand for someone just as lost as her.

the understanding he's met with when henry comes and admits his failure to radzig, the fact that he went against direct order. (nothing, absolutely nothing else but radzig being in debt to martin, or radzig being someone close to henry, could explain the understanding, the acceptance, and the outcome of the whole situation. how do you think henry - who is just a young man, not a hero, not a dragonborn, not a chosen one - would get away with all this?)

henry backed out of the night raid on talmberg because hans was wounded and wouldn't survive long enough for the mission to succeed.

hans (in one of the outcomes) carried him out on his back, saving his fat ass. no time for glory, no time for saving the hostages when it's suddenly your best friend who is on the ground and bleeding out. he might have succeeded with the mission. yet he didn't hesitate when suddenly it was him who was put in the shoes of those who just wanted to keep their loved ones safe. it was stephanie for divish (he approved the raid). it was radzig for henry (he was the one who went first and most willingly). and it was henry for hans (who immediately backed out on henry's behalf). all those actions were based on love.

would you attack talmberg, knowing there was someone you loved? someone you wanted to know better, someone you wanted to learn how to love, someone who could have been much closer if he only tried? someone you only just met?

the whole story starts with love, continues with love, ends with love. it is everywhere you look and you don't even have to romance anyone to see it, to feel it. it is in the npcs' lives, it's the motivation behind so many actions. it's in henry's decisions. in your decisions.

because, don't you just love this game?

#kcd #kcd talk #kcd brainrot i welcome you back #and fuck off i need to live and sleep #kingdom come deliverance #hans capon #henry of skalitz #radzig kobyla #divish of talmberg

[corpsentry]

eulogy

#i was fully going to just wrangle my way through life for another 39 years when my friend said to me: #you are gay and we want you to submit art for the pride art show. but i hasn’t drawn at all since last year so i made a new comic from scr #i was also having one of the worst times of my life all of the past week but every night after sobbing into a friends shoulder or wtv #i’d sit down and draw. and then today i locked myself in the basement for 5 #hours and now he is finished. trans allegory or whatever #happy pride #world is horrible so hold the people you love close #i am trying . succeeding? not really but definitely trying #i have gone now through the 5 stages of grief. 1) eat food 2) eat food 3) hit rock 4) hit rock 5) give up #i Give Up. i give up by living my life without giving a fuck #which is like. actually giving down. or taking away down #idk anyway #i hope you’re well i’m HANGING ON BY A THREAD. BUT A GOOD THREAD #and to my lgbsbfk homies: i love you #my art

[spicy-buttfuck]

Simon could have a monster wife if the writers aren't cowards. they could pull off a theme of "everything stays, but it still changes" by having one half of this couple finally accept the other as their monstrous and weird self and that's how these two both end up happy if they aren't fucking cowards.

#simon petrikov #fionna and cake #listen im not fucking joking i honest to god believe they could make this work AND have a theme of moving on #simon would have to move on from betty as he knew her without having to give her up #betty would have to accept a simon that has lived a whole ass life without her and the baggage that comes with it #fionna and cake would have to accept that their world while not magical IS worth having #IF THEY AREN'T! FUCKING! COWARDS! #i need you to picture me saying all of this as i am frantically crawling my walls #foaming at the mouth like a rabid beast #nothing i have said should be the words of a reasonable individual no i am Stricken with the rot #i mean that and i'm a monsterfu-

[tskva-happens]

seems like so far the #1 enemy of the bg3 modding community has been... *checks note* age. just like... any signs of age whatsoever.

#bg3 #bg3 mods #fandom critical(?) #modder critical #when i started seeing these i tried to give people the benefit of the doubt #because i remember when i was in my late teens and early 20s the concept of being past my 30s/40s/etc felt so far away #and therefore people in those other age ranges seemed to exist in a different world from mine with different life experiences #and back then i would have created ocs that felt and looked as young as i was #and maybe would have felt uneasy romancing a character who seemed to have a large age gap with my oc since that's not my personal preferenc #and maybe SOME of the modders doing this are young and have similar reasons? #so i Sorta. Kinda. understand that thought process. #but i'm skeptical and would bet most of them are actually just adults who cannot handle age. period. #not to mention we're at the point where mods try to de-age npcs for no reason or straight-up ''''yassify'''' companions #or deprive them of their unique physical traits #and that's just. so frustrating and borderline gross. #let the characters in this game exist as they are. they have LIVED and they look like it!!!! that is good and their world is richer for it! #btw i'm talking about age and cosmetic changes exclusively. i'm not even including the racist whitewashing mods in this discussion because #those can go fuck themselves and i hope it goes without saying they deserve no benefit of the doubt. like zero #anyway. rant over for now #auri rambles

[lorephobic]

idk how to even like. put this pain into words and i would normally vent about this shit on twitter, but the person its about follows me on there so like. anybody have skills for coping with the crushing realization that the person u love most in this world and have built ur life around sees ur current situation together as a temporary hurdle that's preventing them from their truest and happiest self which. is separate from u entirely? anyone know how to deal with this?

#live with my best friend in the whole entire world who. honest to god makes me the happiest person alive. #like im always waxing poetic about her in the tags on posts about platonic love #and i talk about her like she put the stars in the skies because for real it feels like she did for me #she is. the most important person in my life #and every day i feel grateful just to come home and sit with her #like honest to god i cannot imagine a future that is better than this #if i have a bad day i get to come home and my best friend in the world will make me laugh #what more could i ever ask for #but tonight we talked and she made it abundantly clear that. even if i do everything right #even if i'm the perfect roommate and the best friend i can be #in just over a year #when she's making enough money for it #she plans on moving into a place of her own #which like. makes sense for her. of course we were going to get to this point. #but i just. don't know what i'm going to do. #and it kills me that we're on different pages because for some reason i thought this was a long term thing #i thought we were going to move into a house together #i was just telling my coworker this week that we need to move into our forever home soon which was partially a joke #but also. even if i was making a million dollars a year. #i would still want to be here. with her. #or somewhere else. with her. #like it's so hard to imagine a future without her. it breaks my heart and scares the shit out of me. #and i know i can't afford it here. and i can't move in with strangers. and i'm working my dream job but i'm scared that i'm going to have t #give it all up and move back east because. i can't do this alone. and she's all i have. and all i ever wanted. #and she's leaving. #she doesn't want to be with me. #sry this is so fucking. ugh. idk. i just don't know what to do. #for real might just drop everything and move to chicago if it comes down to it ksdkfljdfs #its what sufjan would have wanted #fucked up terrible no good week