#it is tragically ugly oh well what can you do

[229zmi]

BLIND DATE

Kuroo Tetsurō/Reader | 1.1k words, fluff, reader is a little clueless at first, based off of this tiktok

“I’m sorry, what? Could you— sorry, could you repeat that?”

At the sound of Kuroo’s cackles echoing throughout the study room (that you had booked for yourself, and then he decided to invade it after spotting you through the window), you shake your head, feeling the regret creep up your neck like smoke rising from flames. Still, he continues to offer half-assed apologies in between abrupt laughs, as if that’ll soothe your embarrassment in any way.

“You heard me the first time.” You scowl when he opens his mouth to deny it, feigning cluelessness with a dumbfounded look on his face. “And your sense of humour sucks by the way. It wasn’t that funny.”

“But it is. You really want me, out of all the people, to set you up with someone?” He grins, twirling a pen around his fingers. Inwardly, you wish for the pen to suddenly fly out of control, for him to finally have a moment of failure that will eventually spiral into his downfall in the hopefully near future (a few seconds from now), but it never happens.

“Just one date,” you say, with venom preemptively hanging from the tip of your tongue in case you need to further defend yourself.

However, he surprises you when all he does is lean back in his chair instead of bursting into a fit of laughter again. His eyebrows furrow in thought, and the pen stills in his hand; he sets it down atop his notebook.

“I know someone who has a small crush on you,” he tells you after a beat. You straighten at the newfound information, suddenly interested.

“Really? Are they a friend of yours? Who is it?”

Kuroo — that bastard — shakes his head, now sporting a smug smile as he crosses his arms. “That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

You groan. “You can’t just say that and not tell me who it is! C’mon, can you at least give me a hint?”

“Sure. What kind of hint?”

Your question hurtles toward him at lightning speed, only half-joking. “Are they rich?”

Waving his finger disapprovingly, he reprimands you, “Such a shallow question. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Yeah, well, are they?”

“Can’t say he is. He’s a college student, same university and year as us,” he says, and you act devastated over the news, slapping a dramatic hand over your chest. It’s too bad your dreams of becoming someone’s sugar baby have been crushed so tragically like this, though you suppose there are other important factors to consider as well.

“Is he—?”

“Hey, you said a hint, not multiple hints.”

“Oh, shut it. Is he hot?”

“Very,” he confirms, so quickly that it’s almost suspicious. You eye him warily, to which he shrugs. “What? Birds of a feather flock together, or something like that.”

“Yeah, okay. So he’s butt-ugly, then, by association with you.” At that, Kuroo kicks your knee as you snicker to yourself.

“You know that by saying that, you’re also calling yourself butt-ugly. Plus, I’m doing you a grand favour, and this is what I get in return?” A long sigh escapes him. “Absolutely nothing but insults. Unbelievable.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Nothing but insults,” he repeats.

You roll your eyes. There’s no winning with him. “Fine, then. I’ll lend you my old statistics textbook. You’re taking Intro to Stats next semester, right?”

“Yup.” He smiles, and you know you’ve got yourself a deal. “I’ll text you the location and time as soon as possible.”

Disappointingly enough, your date is late.

Kuroo, however, is right on time.

You narrow your eyes at him, glancing at the outfit he’s got on. You’re used to him wearing sweatpants and hoodies with holes in the sleeves every time you see him, but today, he’s put something unusually nice on, although you’re not entirely sure why. You’re also not sure why he’s here, outside of the café and at the exact time he told you your date had agreed to meet you.

“Where’s my date?” you ask before looking around for the umpteenth time to check if he’s arrived yet. However, your movement is stopped when Kuroo gently places a hand under your chin, guiding your focus back to him.

A sly grin reveals itself; his hazel eyes twinkle beneath the glow of the café’s hanging fairy lights.

“Right here. I’m your date.”

You frown, still puzzled. “What? But you said a few days ago, you were gonna set me up with someone who—“

Wait a minute.

Oh, you realise.

Then, you shut your eyes tightly, turning away from him.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice that he doesn’t even attempt to hide, obviously entertained by your actions. He steps to the side to see your face, but you turn away again. “Hey, is my hair really that ugly? I tried combing it down like a gazillion times this morning, I swear.”

“No, just—” You stick your arm out, and Kuroo holds onto it awkwardly, both concerned for you and unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “Pinch me, please. I think I’m dreaming.”

“Oh. You’re not dreaming,” he assures you, opting to instead rest his hands on your shoulders, yet it’s pointless in getting you to look at him. Stubborn as always, he thinks fondly.

“That’s exactly what someone in my dreams would say.”

“Ah, I see. So, I’m the man of your dreams?”

Bingo. Picturing himself doing a victory dance in his head, Kuroo watches you open your eyes to glare at him for his remark. His celebration is short-lived, though, because in a matter of seconds, you’re quick to point out, “You’re blushing.”

Rubbing a hand over his cheek as if to erase the pinkish hue, he denies the observation. “I’m not.”

“You are.” You feel all giddy inside, with your heart feeling like it’s about to leap out of your chest, walk inside the café, and buy a cup of coffee. You’re worried a gooey mess of feelings is what’s going to spill onto the pavement if you so much as speak too quickly, so your question comes out tentative, like a butterfly’s wings fluttering in the wind, “And… you like me?”

That, he cannot deny. But there’s a poor attempt at it anyway. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said a small crush.”

“Really?”

“Really.” A pause. Then, he adds sheepishly, “Well, maybe it’s a little more than that.”

Your expression breaks into a grin at the confession, but before you can tease him any more for the blush that has now spread to the back of his neck, he pulls the door to the café open and uses his free hand to gesture towards the interior, bowing his head slightly.

“For my lovely date,” he says, looking up just to wink at you. Whether this is actually to charm you or just to distract you from his embarrassment, you can’t tell.

Nevertheless, as cheesy as it is, you decide to play along, intertwining your fingers through his and extending your gratitude to him for his chivalrous act before pulling him along as you head inside.

notes: another kuroo fic 4 the Kuroo kissers ♥︎ tumblr user @kyoghurts i hope u like it teehee

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #229ZMI

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),

a Tainted Love sequel

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar

"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.

"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.

You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."

"That's no true," you growl.

It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".

This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.

"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.

"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.

"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.

Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".

Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.

"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.

She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".

You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."

Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.

"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.

"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.

"Spit it out, Kika!"

Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.

"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.

Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".

You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.

The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.

Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.

An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.

He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.

In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.

That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.

You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.

However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.

You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.

But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.

But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.

Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?

You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?

And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.

And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.

You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.

Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.

You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.

You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.

You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?

No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.

“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”

You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.

As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.

“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.

Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,

“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”

“Yes, everyday”.

-

It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.

Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.

As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.

Shit!

You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.

“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.

Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.

You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.

“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.

Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.

You flash him a grateful smile.

“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.

Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.

“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.

“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.

“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.

Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”

Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”

“Oh, and you told him everything right?”

Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.

You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.

“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”

A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”

“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.

You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.

“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.

You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.

You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.

“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.

What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.

Shit.

This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.

“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.

“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.

But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.

-

You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.

Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.

You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.

As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:

Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦

As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:

You’re disgusting 🤮

Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.

Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.

“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.

Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.

He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.

No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.

He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”

Charles laughs to himself a little.

“Hi, [Y/N]”.

It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.

You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.

Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.

Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.

“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.

Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?

Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.

“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.

You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.

“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”

“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.

Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.

“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.

“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.

Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.

He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.

You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.

As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.

“How was New York?”

Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.

“Charles, I never went to New York”.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[after-witch]

Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: No more shows, yes, that’s what he says. He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Some musings from Ren Hana after the The Show Must Go On DLC (survival ending).

Word Count: 1600ish

notes: kidnapped reader, medical including eye prosthetics discussion, descriptions of past violent abuse and injuries including eye injuries

You poor, pretty thing, lying there in a hospital bed, tubes in your arms and an incessantly beeping machine monitoring your vitals at your side.

You look a mess.

You look lovely.

The wounds from your lively (and, he must admit, very well received--well, until the end) triple show debut are vibrant and gorgeously ugly.

Vivid stitches covered in ghastly looking iodine on your stomach, where you’d sliced your belly right open; antibiotic creams slathered over your puncture wounds; an etching of various cuts and bite marks… yours and his. Not to mention your eye.

You’ll live, you dear thing. Scarred and bruised, inside and out--but you’ll live.

He’s not an amateur. You’ll have good medical care here. He can afford it, although it’s not often used for more than employee check-ups and keeping merchandise alive long enough to be sold or entertain his streams before the big finale. Or for the occasional creative request via a high-paying donor on a stream.

But for you? He’ll make sure to use every resource to get you back into shape. Back to where you were--or more accurately, he supposes, back to where you’re going to be from now on. 

You wake up every now and then. Not to the fullest degree. You are pumped full of drugs, though, and he’s not terribly surprised at your lack of coherency. It’s cute, in a way, though he’s looking forward to enjoying you when you’re more alert. More alive. 

How alive did you feel, in those last moments before he stopped the stream? How aware were you that he meant to kill you? That you were going to die in that dark room while people paid to watch and stroked their cocks and salivated over watching the last bit of light leave your eyes? 

He couldn’t do it. No, no, that’s not right. He could have done it. He’s done it before, to others more and less worthy than yourself.

But he didn’t want to do it and therefore, he didn’t have to do it. You reminded him of that. Chat had power, sure, everyone with enough money had power. But he was in control. It was his stream. His life’s work. And you were his property, not theirs. 

Did you know that one question would change everything?

Fuck the people watching the stream. They could have someone else, and they would eventually--logistically, he needed to make it up to them soon, a token apology made in some other poor pretty thing’s blood.

But not you.

Never you. 

He smiles, just a little. It’s easier now to think about the future, in the sterile clinic room, away from the rush of the showroom with its screens, the stampede of feet when he pushed the call button, the tangy smell of your blood and the sight of you mangled and delirious beneath him. 

The rush of the moment has passed, leaving behind a slow, thoughtful ebb in its wake. 

You’re not the first merchandise he’s kept for himself. You’re not even the first person he’s taken a liking to and taken home with the intent to keep forever. And oh, that first one… he hasn’t thought about them in a while, the one that he kept for as long as he could, until they were gone.

You remind him of them, in some ways. Maybe in the way your voice softened when you asked him who gave him his scars; maybe in the pitiful way you begged him, sweet and sniffling, to cut out your eye because you knew it was best.

Maybe in the way you clenched around him, desperate, eager, hating the pain but embracing it because there was nothing else you could do. 

But, ah… he’s being nostalgic again. He lets one claw idly trace your forearm, following the line of the IV. That person is gone. Dead. Tragic and all that, and some part of him will always miss them. But there’s no point in dwelling on it, just as he’s long since moved on from Strade and his amateur basement of horrors. 

Years ago, he might have thought: what would Strade think of me now? But now he knows the truth: it doesn’t matter one single bit what Strade would think of him now, or what Strade might have thought of him then. Strade was nothing. 

He had created his own world, far surpassing anything Strade could have dreamed of; Strade had some talent (he has scars to prove it) but what was talent without ambition? Without creativity, allure?

Anyone could get people to pay money to watch you kill some helpless fuck you snatched off the street.

But it took talent to do what he did, something far beyond basement videos with basic tools and a fabric mask. 

It was a talent he had in spades, carefully crafted through trial and error. Lots of errors. But what business, what world, existed without them? 

But you do make him reminisce, don’t you?

And then your hand is on his arm. Weak, fingers trembling as you try to grip him, and gain his notice.

This time, your eye isn’t quite as muddled, and you direct your gaze at him rather than flitting about the room in hazy confusion.

He watches as your throat works, swallowing, and he can practically hear the inside of your dry mouth sticking as you force open your lips.

“Is it… is it time for another show?”

He blinks down at you, his lips set in a frown. 

Your dry lips tremble when he doesn’t answer. The heart rate monitor speeds up, and he glances at it--faster and faster, like a little rabbit--before resting his hand on your forehead. The beeping slows down just a little, and your eye looks up at him, darting across his face, desperate and terrified.

“No,” he says, with a somber finality, and the words are for himself as much as they are for you. “No more shows.” 

Your smile is twitchy and slow, and your eye blinks low and lidded. The drugs want to put you to sleep. You want to stay awake. You’ll lose this battle, but he likes to see that you still have the will to live in you. It will come in handy. 

A clawed finger traces your cheek, edging around the white medical patch covering your missing eye. He can see your head try to flinch, but you’re either too drugged to fully do it or you’re stopping yourself out of worry that he won’t like it.

Either option pleases him. 

Your eye isn’t as bad as it was, but it will need more healing before you can wear a prosthetic, or so the physician said. 

He’d never looked much into them before--prosthetic eyes, that is--but as he discovered during a late night bout of phone shopping, there’s a wide array of options nowadays. Exotic styles--cats and snakes and everything in between--and fun colors and pretty add-ons, like glitter or shimmer or rainbow holographics. 

The thought of your false eye staring up at him in some impossibly beautiful hue, accenting a lovely outfit he’s dressed you in, makes him a little giddy, and he hopes you’ll be excited about them, too. Maybe in time you’ll be gazing at a selection of eyes laid out on a vanity, choosing between them like you might have done before all this with lipsticks and eyeshadows. 

Will you hold up the eye you chose for his approval, a trembling smile on your face? It would be nice to see. 

Though he’s not stupid--not as naive as he might have been, if he’d met you twenty or so years ago. You’re not going to immediately jump for joy that the man who orchestrated your kidnapping, tortured you, jacked off into your eye, pulled out said eye, and almost had you yank out your own guts got you a pretty prosthetic.

No, no… not immediately, anyway. That will take time and work and training. Thankfully, he has plenty of experience with that. 

He smiles, just a little, watching as your remaining eye fights so hard to stay open; battling against the drugs keeping you sleepy and compliant for the first step in your healing.

You’re mumbling something, and he’s not really listening to the words, until he sees tears in your eye and you repeat yourself. The words come slowly. He’ll remind the nurse to wet your mouth soon.

“You pr…promise?”

He leans forward, cupping your chin, encouraging you to keep going.

Your voice is a whimper and it’s just so damned cute. Your remaining eye is wide and those pretty tears stick to the lashes like dew. He could kiss them off, he truly could, if he wasn’t sure getting anywhere near your remaining eye right now might send you into a panic.

“You promise no… no more shows?” 

“No more shows,” he says again, gentler this time, stroking your hair. The tension in your muscles gradually relaxes from his touch, or perhaps the IV drip has given you a fresh dose of painkillers on schedule. It doesn’t matter. The effect is the same. 

No more shows, yes, that’s what he tells you. 

He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Life does not exist without it. His business does not exist without it. He does not exist without it. 

There is always give and take, push and pull, pain and pleasure. None can exist without the other. 

It’s a truth you’ll come to learn, as he did. And he can’t wait to bring you to that truth himself. 

#the price of flesh #ren hana #tpof spoilers #the price of flesh spoilers #afterwitch writes #I wanna write smut with him but first!! the introspection

[luckykiwiii101]

The Blair Bitch Project

And who am I? That’s one secret I’ll never tell. You know you love me. XoXo - Gossip Girl 💋 💌

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♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

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Welcome back, Upper East Siders.

Call me superstitious, but I’ve got a feeling this winter could be your last season on this app. Let’s face it, I’ve been at this a long time. But age breeds wisdom. And this I know: the best is yet to come.

From all around the world our favourite Upper east siders are asking the same question. “How do i get what i want?!”

“Why can’t I have it?!?! ughhh this isn’t fair!!!”

Well, call me crazy, but bitching about it, won’t get you to your final destination. Only if you use it the right way………

Think fast B, bitch about it? or BITCH about it?

Yes, I’m talking about the Blair BITCH Project.

Since the Blair Witch Project is SO LAST SEASON, I’ve got something new to bring to the table. And no, it’s not a 5 star meal, it’s much sweeter, or should i say sour.

No one said being a Bitch would be easy.

Well……I could make an exception if your name is Georgina Sparks or Serena Van Der Woodsen. But the Bitchiest Bitch of all Bitches Is our Queen B, Blair Waldorf. It’s the season to put on your louboutons and do what you do best, Bitch about it.

They say history repeats itself. But looks like B is charting a brand new course to success. Who knew being such a B-word would get you so far? Gotta take a few notes from Queen B herself.

As Blair said “You can’t make people love you but you can make them fear you.”

Yes i’m talking about those pesky little negative assumptions you hold in that thick little head of yours. Holding on to the seats on the limousine like Blair and Chuck. Speaking of Chuck, let’s Chuck those assumptions away, far far away.

“How am I going to do that?”

Just be yourse-

Oops. The inner Georgina jumped out just there. I was going to say be a bitch, but I guess there’s no difference……… (Just kidding……or am I? XoXo. Nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a little mystery).

It’s B’s party, and she’ll cry if she wants to. Everytime you open this app, you will bitch about how easy it is for you to enter the void state and how you always wake up in it. It’s your choice really. Vaunt about it in your posts, or the replies to any void related post you see. Bitch about it randomly in your mind everytime the void state comes to mind. Shouldn’t be difficult for a Stage 5 Bitch.

Careful ladies and gents. It’s easy to fall into the valley of overconsumption. Maybe you’ll even come across a faux bitch claiming to own a Chanel purse, but when they’ve been caught red handed, you may even start to think that you can’t have a Chanel purse. How tragic.



Fuel that energy into full bitch mode and vaunt your anger/frustration/sadness/irritation into bitching all about it, and replacing those ugly assumptions with prettier ones. They need a serious MAKEOVER! Ew.

SPOTTED: B taking what seemed like a innocent little stroll down central park, but we all know everything B does is NEVER innocent. She’s been caught RED handed, drowning her two-faced wannabes (negative assumptions) in a lake in central park, after crying them a river (vaunting) and drowning them in it. A classic Blair Bitch move. I like it.

Wait……? Can you hear that? It’s B. She’s at it again. OH EM GEE! Cover your ears. It’s a full blown bitch attack!!!!

Blair:

“OH MY GOD, I SWEAR I CANNOT EVEN CLOSE MY EYES WITHOUT ENTERING THE VOID STATE! I EVEN HEAR SOME STUPID BITCHES GOSSIPING ABOUT HOW I ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID STATE WITHIN 2 MINUTES! IT’S SO FRICKING ANNOYING! WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME!!!!!???!! UGH THEY WISH THEY WERE LIKE ME, THE PERFECT VOID MASTER! AS IF THEY COULD EVER! THIS IS WAY TOO EASY, IT’S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STRUGGLE! LIKE HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE IF YOU’RE STRUGGLING WITH THE EASIEST THING ON THE PLANET! THAT’S LIKE BELIEVING THAT IT’S DIFFICULT TO BLINK OR SOMETHING!UGH IM WAYYYY TOO GOOD AT THIS!IT’S EASIER THAN FRICKINF BREATHING! UGHHHHHHHH!!!”

Negative Assumption:

“No you can’t hahahah ur so ba-.”

Blair:

“BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP! DOROTA!!! COME CLEAN THIS LITTLE SHIT UP! IT’S PISSING ME OFF! IM TOO GOOD AT THIS LMFAO! WHY IS IT SO EASY?!UGHHHH I COULD LITERALLY JUST SLAP SOMEONE RIGHT NOW! MY POWER COULD PROBABLY SEND THEM INTO THE VOID STATE OR SOMETHING!!! I ALWAYS WAKE UP IN THE VOID STATE. IT’S LITERALLY NOTHING. NO BIG DEAL. I’M USED TO IT ANYWAY!!!”

Careful ladies and gents. B might be the Big Bad Wolf in designer clothing.

Don’t become a bitch in the process……Or do, I don’t care. I see you. XoXo.

Still reading an American Horror Story? Close than damned book and open a new one. Just make sure it’s not the sequel. We don’t need a repeat of past……events.

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #void challenge #the void state #void concept #void state tips #manifesting #self concept

[nullsleepy]

Hero to None, Savior to All

Maribat BioDad!Batman

“Oh, like you’re any better, father! Or should I say Batman?” Ladybug whirled around, staring the man in the eyes.

“Mari, I-” Bruce kept his face blank, looking down at her. What was she doing? Playing hero?

“Oh don’t ‘Mari’ me! I am, and will always be, Marinette DUPAIN-CHENG to you, Wayne!” She spat at him, taking a step forward towards him.

“Marinette…”

“I am the LADYBUG, savior of Paris, savior of France, savior of this entire FUCKING WORLD! And you think you can just show up and change that?” Marinette heaved, rage burning in her eyes.

“Ma-”

“OH DON'T YOU INTERRUPT ME NOW, MR WAYNE! YOU’VE HAD FIFTEEN YEARS TO SPEAK UP SO IT’S MY TURN!” She snarled, her mouth straining at the ends from how wide she had to open her mouth to scream.

“…” Bruce swallowed, facing the girl. He could hear the pain in her voice.

“I have tried, AND TRIED, to reach out to you, to anyone! But none of you supposed heroes want to get your heads out of your asses long enough to listen! So I did your job, every single one of you all’s job, and SAVED THIS PLANET, THIS GALAXY! HELL, I’VE SAVED THIS TIMELINE MORE TIMES THAN YOU’VE BREATHED IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE THREE TIMES OVER!” Tears streamed down Marinette’s face, leaving red ugly lines when she wiped them away. “So go ahead, tell me what I’ve done wrong! Tell me I’m just a kid in an adult’s costume! Won’t be the first time I’ve heard, nor will it be the last! But you will not erase all of the pain my citizens have gone through, nor will you erase everything I’ve done! I am Marinette FUCKING Dupain-Cheng, savior of all that exist and don’t exist! I am the champion of PARIS!”

“….” Bruce’s eyes softened, watching the trembling girl- no, the trembling hero. Her stare told stories of tragic losses and unwavering pain. She wasn’t a kid, no, she had long since lost that title. She was someone who had faced more than anyone could handle, but here she was, still standing. She was a symbol of hope.

“WELL? Is that all you got to say now? ‘Cuz you were quite chatty EARLIER!” Marinette pointed a finger at the man, stabbing at his chest. She was breathing heavily, anger the only thing filling her movements.

“…..” He lowered his gaze, unable to stand looking at the once child. Reaching forward, he took hold of her hand.

“Oi! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU-” Bruce yanked her forward, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “LET GO!”

“….” Bruce held her tighter, silently crying his own tears for her.

“I SAID LET GO! LET GO OF ME!” She struggled against his hold, slamming her fists against his shoulders.

“LET GO!” She continued, using every last bit of strength she had left to try to claw out of his hold. “I SAID LET GO.. let go of me…let.. go..”

Marinette could feel as her body went limp, weighing down heavily on her very bones. Her strength left her completely, her muscles going slack. She couldn’t even control her tears from staining her face.

“…et go…” Her eyelids grew heavy as her legs shook, giving way to the weight of her body. All she could hear was her own whimpers as everything blurred together.

As her eyes closed, a pink splash of light over took her body, leaving her in her civilian clothes. Bruce looked over the unconscious body of his daughter, able to see the scars covering her body more clearly. He didn’t even hold back his small gasp at her injuries. His little girl… could he even call her that anymore? She was so different from before, from the pictures and videos he was sent. She was so small, but so large. She had the presence of someone who would do anything to save those she loved. She was…

His little girl was a hero.

#maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #maribat biodad au #angst #just a little #Mari finally getting to rant #we stan an angry tired queen #I wrote this to just try to get some inspiration and omg #I love it I stan #angry mari for the win #should I write more idk but I love #anyways pls help me get inspo guys #I will take any prompt rn

[countryclubkook]

Too kind for your own good

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, blood, death, language, toxic father and son relationship, small mention of abuse (ward slaps Rafe), guns, spoilers for obx, language, very violent and intense situation, there is no happiness here, this is pure heartbreak and angst with no fluff in sight

Summary: You find out the truth about Rafe and he doesn’t take it so well, now he has to make a choice. You or his father, but things don’t exactly go as planned and he has to suffer the consequences of his own selfish actions.

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about the ending because I could not figure out how I wanted this to end but I needed to get it out so I hope you enjoy. The timelines in this are a bit different from the show and there are certain things mentioned here that happen at different times in the show than in the story and that is solely for writing purpose,

“Oh princess, can’t say i’m surprised to see you turn against us. You always were too kind for your own good” Rafe’s voice was slow and taunting, a sadistic look of happiness on his face at the way your body tensed up and how your eyes went dark at the sight of him.

The gun that he’d used to shoot Sarah waving around in the air as if it was his prize. Her blood still staining your mind from the picture you’d seen when they talked to the police, not knowing whether or not she’d made it after the adrenaline inevitably wore off made you sick. It wasn’t until the three of you got back to OBX and Kelce ran to the country club telling Rafe he’d seen her and John B that you’d known she was still alive. You never thought Rafe would try to kill his own sister, you didn’t think he was capable of killing anyone until you found out the truth about Peterkin.

“I’ll miss you Y/N. I’ll make sure your pretty face is the headline of every news station though, can’t just let you die without the fame of it all. And John B over there,” he nodded to the unconscious body of the innocent teen boy that was blamed for all this mess, the boy who had been through so much for wanting to find gold and be with the girl he loves, “He’ll be easy to frame for your…tragic end. I mean come on, you’re my girlfriend, you tried to reason with him and keep him away from my dad and I because he was becoming unhinged and it got ugly, he shot you and then himself. Problem solved”

Your breathing hitched as you tried backing away from him. Your legs felt like jelly and your hands were shaking uncontrollably, you’d never seen Rafe like this and it was scaring you. He wasn’t actually going to kill you right? The way he took long strides towards you was telling you otherwise, the crazy yet calm look in his eyes as if you were nothing to him hurt you more than any weapons could. You remained quiet though, something that seemed to piss him off.

“Why are you so quiet huh? Fucking answer me bitch!” it took everything in you not to flinch. Instead, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in.

“What do you want me to say Rafe? What am I supposed to say in this situation?” your voice trembled slightly and you cursed your body for giving away your true fear. He let out a humorless chuckle and began to circle you.

“You can beg, I know you’re good at that. All those little home videos of you on your knees begging me to use you, to hurt you, to do whatever I want, they prove that” you swallowed back tears and gave him a look of acceptance. There was nothing you could do to prevent your death, why bother fighting it and giving him the satisfaction?

“Why? Why not just kill me now huh? Kill me and John B and take what you’ve always wanted Rafe, make your daddy proud” he looks at you with furrowed brows and tilted his head slightly.

“What?” he asks in confusion, watching as you slowly walked towards him with seemingly no fear.

“I said,” another step towards him until you were directly in front of him “kill me. Fucking kill me Rafe”

His face tensed, you were supposed to be scared, beg him to let you go, not beg him to kill you. What the fuck was happening right now?

“Y/N-“ you cut him off with a harsh shove to his chest.

“Murder me Rafe! Fucking murder me like you murdered Sheriff Pete” shove.

“Shoot me like you shot your sister!” another shove before you began beating on his chest with closed fists.

“Murder me Rafe! MURDER ME!” you began screaming as something inside you snapped. All the fear, all the betrayal, the confusion, all of it coming to the surface and exploding.

“Y/N stop! What-“ again he was cut off by a combination of hits and shoves as you broke down in front of him.

“MURDER ME! MURDER ME! MURDER ME! MU-“ a harsh gasp leaving your throat as you gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. Neither one of you looked down knowing it wasn’t good.

He watched in pure fear and panic as his father pulled a knife out of your back and shoved you to the ground. His face was void of emotion as he watched Rafe fall to the ground with you and cradle your bleeding out frame. Tears had fallen onto your cheeks like little rain droplets as Rafe’s eyes teared up just the same.

“Dad, what did you do? What the fuck did you do?!” his voice came out in a broken yell as he tried to apply pressure to your stomach in hopes it would stop the bleeding.

But the blood kept pouring out, staining his hands. The ring you’d bought him for your one year anniversary now covered in your blood, he was going to have to hold you as you died, all because of him, with the jewels you gave him. How fucking twisted was that? Your pained groan pulled him out of his thoughts as he quickly realized he couldn’t save you. Your clothes were soaked in blood as were his pants, and the pool of blood had soaked your hair and left small streaks on your face.

Ward stood there with a look of disappointment at the scene in front of him. “We need to take care of him now son. We can’t let emotion get in the way, I mean it’s not like you loved her that much anyway seeing as you were about to kill her” he was right. Rafe was about to kill you and pin it all on John B solely because you’d seen how much of a monster he was and wanted to leave. All his potential to be good and have a good thing ruined just for his dad’s acceptance. But it’s not like he could change it now, especially when your blood was caked onto his hands.

“W-well, I guess this is how it ends. Who would,” you cough, blood pooling in your throat as you do, “who would have thought” a sad yet lazy smile on your face.

“I-i’m sorry baby. I’m so fucking sorry” he meant for everything. For dragging you into this mess, for being the reason you died, for being so fucked up and needing his dads approval and acceptance so bad that he threw all the good down the drain just to get it.

All he could do was mutter small apologies as he cradled and rocked your cold and bloody body while your breathing got slower and slower until it stopped, one final raspy breath in and a small gurgle sound caught in the back of your throat. His face screwed up as tears formed in his eyes, he couldn’t be bothered to wipe them. He wanted to keep holding you until you were pried from his hands, but Ward had other plans. There was no time for him to mourn on his schedule.

“Rafe. come on son,” a deep sigh filled the room as Ward wiped his hands on his face “Let’s finish this. Make me proud, we’re so close to this being done”.

Right. John B was still there, this was all for gold and not just some tragic accident that he could genuinely say he had no part in. His hands reached for your face, gently moving his fingers to close your eyes that he used to look so deeply into out of pure love and admiration, to trace every last feature of yours one last time. You looked so beautiful even in death, that’s all Rafe could think about. How his girl managed to look so beautiful even after being fucking stabbed and covered in her own blood.

“I love you. I’m sorry” one last kiss to your cold and parted lips before he stood, gently laying your body on the ground.

“Good, now come on. Help me with John B, if we kill him here we can make it look like a set up” fuck, this was crazy. Sure Rafe hated the pogues and wanted to get the gold…but he also loved you. But he loved his dad as well and he was just starting to be proud of him and accept him as his son, what was he supposed to do?

“Rafe!” Ward's voice pulled him out of his thoughts “Come on son, what are you doing?”

He watched Rafe pace back and forth, his hands pulling at his hair before roughly pressing onto his eyes. He was starting to get nervous at his son’s erratic behavior and knew he needed to help ground him before he lost total control and did something that would fuck them both.

“Dad, I'm not okay. This isn’t okay, oh my god you killed her. You killed her dad, why did you do that?” he repeated to Ward over and over again before he came over and placed his hands on both sides of Rafe’s face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay son. We’re going to get the gold and everything is going to be fine'' Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes before pushing his dads hands off his face.

“None of this is okay dad, you fucking killed her!” slap.

“Watch your tone Rafe. All of this is your fucking fault, you fucked us all! Now either you help me with John B or you go down for it all” he watched Rafe swallow harshly as he touched his face, time was running out and he couldn’t wait for his son to gather his emotions.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry dad”

“There’s my boy, let’s end this. Now” Ward moved over to where John B remained unconscious and signaled Rafe to come over.

Rafe would do anything to make his dad proud and he hated it, especially when your bloody and lifeless corpse laid just inches away from him, serving as a reminder of his choices. All he could do was look at you while his father talked to him, your hands almost as if they were reaching for him even in death, and he fucking hated himself. He wished you would have just stayed away, that you would have told him to go fuck himself months ago and left to save yourself. But you always saw the good in him, and as he always reminded himself, you always were too kind for your own good, and your kindness got you killed along with his selfishness.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks netflix #outer banks #obx angst #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx fic #rafe cameron fic

[yourlocalshrimp318]

My mom likes Good Omens and is very dissatisfied by the ending

Good day folks! I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Depends on how you interpret it.

Bad news: I was too tired to write the post on season two ep1 and 2. Good news: I made notes on my mother’s reaction. Bad news: i didn’t write much to it because I was very fucking tired. Maybe good news: we watched episode 3 to 6 this evening, means I can finish this series, also means I’ve got a lot to remember and I am bad at that. Good news: you folks get a whole post on watching season 2 with my mom! A little more good news: she didn’t disown me and I was not grounded. She didn’t even cry. She just really wants a season 3. same, mom, same.

For the first two episodes: *checks phone for notes* as far as I see, she is a shipper. Very much. She is also not further concerned on the angels having typically male names and being played by woman. Which was quite surprising to me. She referred to Micheal as he.

„Has Gabriel lost his mind? And why the fuck is he naked? Didn’t need to see that.“

She complimented the music, it’s very fitting.

She was quite upset that Aziraphale and Crowley just won’t communicate. How right she was.

„Very interesting, I am really excited for the next episodes.“ these shall come now.

So uhhh. Wait, lemme check Wikipedia so I have an overview. Okay I checked Wikipedia and unlike for season one there is no overview thingy for each episode in season two. Very sad. I also got carried away. Anyway this will now come in order of what I remember, very sorry for that. It was much today.

In episode three when the boys were in Edinburgh, she paused to explain to me that it was very common for people stealing corpses. Yes mother I know. I am infected with good omens brainrot, I know a whole lot shit. But thanks.

„Damn Beelzebub looks disgusting.“ nah, when they come to earth they no longer look disgusting. She understood that, when she saw Beelzebub.

We agreed that the punishment for uhmmm German right-orientated people is very okay. Zombies are very ugly. „What is Mycroft doing there?“ (I also watched Sherlock with my mom btw. Interest on that? I’m sure I’ll remember a little bit)

Her reaction to „Jane Austen had balls.“ was amusing. She pulled a 🤨 and continued. Well okay.

(Fuck I have dementia or smth.) (fuck I am incompetent of using the internet, Wikipedia has information on each episode.)

Shax has a very bad taste in clothing. According to my mom. She is right. I think.

„Jim/James/Gabriels coat is so very stylish!“ yea. Please folks, do tell me, did it have a use or deeper meaning?

Before we watched episode 6 I organised tissues. I was surprised we didn’t need them.

„Oh man, the thing with Jim/James/Gabriel and Beelzebub is so cute!“ very much yes.

So. Final fifteen. It was very quiet in the living room. During and after the final fifteen. She didn’t cry (I was so close to cry) but she looked very dissatisfied. I mean I get it. But I was sad, she was like: „when does season three come? Do we know what happens next? That’s just so mean!“

After we turned the TV off we talked about it. She said it was just very tragic, the red-haired one loved Blondie so much and the fact that that Crowley waited at the car to see if Azi changed his mind is heartbreaking. Crowley deserves better. We hope he’s fine. Sadly we don’t know.

I am glad to say that my mom is not infected by the brainrot, which is both good I guess? Yea. I hope I captured most of it but it was a lot and I am tired.

Good day/night Folks!

(Just spend another 15 minutes on tumblr and I really hope I don’t dream of a weird mixture of Good Omens, Merlin and Lord of the Ring lmao)

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable fandom #david tennant #michael sheen #my mom is so cool #but I am so sad that it’s over now

[yuri-is-online]

Call me tragedy anon w the way i slurp that shit up real. Okay but in all /srs i'm a firm believer that most love stories or stories in /gen in TWST are mainly happy love stories tragedy? Never heard of them!!!

But i think most would be more fascinated to figure out thats its popular in Yuu's world. Like why??? Don't people not like being happy more than sad? and its true!! But there's always something cathartic about well-written tragedies (imo at least) and people enjoy that feeling. Personally the media i enjoy and stick to me the most are usually the ones that have open ended or ambiguos endings that leave a bittersweet after taste in your mouth. Something about retrospecting and finding peace that yes even though it never ended well, there was happiness, or maybe if not happiness then maybe peace to be found in a story like that. The love was still there!!!! Do you understand!!!???

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I want to thank you for sending me this on valentine's day. It is so fitting I should have answered immediately.

Welcome to the stage tragedy annon! W takes in this ask right here your brain is massive.

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I UNDERSTAND I AM THINKING I AM FEELING I AM CRYING BUT I FEEL SO FULFILLED!!!!!!!!!!

I really like happy endings and have a hard time playing the bad end in otomes but one of my favorites, Birushana has these tragic endings that I have done some of and GOD. The image of Shungen screaming at Tomomori as he cradles Shanao's dead body, saying he can't just take her away as Tomomori prepares to jump into the ocean and drown with her only for him to say "You misunderstand, she is taking me." .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. i am crying, screaming, throwing up etc. and so on because fucking damn that's what it's about. The love is so real it has to endure even when everything else is gone.

I think that Idia might find some morbid comfort in that concept which is why I mentioned the Orpheus and Eurydice connection in his long fic musing. I don't think he would find it romantic necessarily, but certainly comforting. Like at least by Yuu's weird standards his curse isn't the major set back he thought it would be and even if things end badly they will still see it as worth it? That's weird, odd, and something he outwardly wants to make fun of but not something he really can when that's what he has come to believe too after his overblot.

Jade and Azul both work really well for this too. Azul because he believes love is inherently exploitable, so the idea that stories end badly in your world just further cements his own bias. The idea that you would consider the bad ending to make things no less real or valuable though, THAT he would need some time with. What do you mean Orpheus fails to save Eurydice is the point of the story? He has a hard time coping with the idea of losing already, adding that into romance as a selling point doesn't make sense from a consultant's point of view. You want to win in the end no? Not just be left ugly crying alone. Jade on the other hand... I just like to see him eat shit on something like this tbh. "Oh I would never do something like that, what an idiot for looking back-" Jade would actually show up at the gates of the underworld and he would still look back because he needs you to be there exactly like the myth foretold and he would be cursing fate the entire time.

I feel like I leave Floyd out of these sort of things so I want to add him here because I feel like he would dismiss the idea of tragedy as a good thing but not because he like. Doesn't think it doesn't exist or something he just doesn't care. He already knows the time you spend together will be enjoyable, and if it ends with death or with him going too close to the sun, well that was the point wasn't it? Kind of like he gets the point but not because of the example given. It's also why I could see him actually successfully making it through to a happy ending. He has this line in Chapter 7 when Lilia is scolding the Octatrio that made me scream because of how good of a job the VA did with it:

And if he says his place is a happy ending I believe he'd make it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #i was prepared to write and post like #actual fic and then an inconvenience occurred #god i should think more about tragedies with the boys #i have some thoughts about a jean of arc coded yuu and rollo #and then like some stuff with azul involving necromancy #don't worry about it

[battlekilt]

The tragedy of Fives is the tragedy of Fox.

Inspired by this post by @groundrunner100 — But it got too long and the meta was a severe angle off from their good post. Check it out.

Honestly, the tragedy of Fives is a tragedy he ultimately shares with Fox.

We the audience know that Fives isn't crazy. We the audience know what is only a few months away. Which is why his exchange with the cab driver really reminds us that we are down the path of a tragedy no one can stop.

Fives asked, "You ever hear the one about the people engineered to kill, engineered to kill their best friends, their leaders, and they don't even know it?"

We the audience are screaming in our hearts. We know he is telling an ending we already know.

Because our answer is, "Yes, we have heard the tragedy of the Clones—the tragedy of YOU."

At this point, we had come to know Fives from the cadet who barely graduated to become a Trooper, was assigned a milksop station that never should have mattered, but became the linchpin of an upcoming battle for Kamino. There he is taken in with his fellow 'barely managed graduated from Clone School' classmate by the, "Oh shit, it's the 501st." We got to see the irony in how it was at a postponed matched up for the fate of Kamino, where we also had first met them, that Fives had proven his merit and was sent off to become the most elite Trooper there was—an ARC. We saw the tragedy of when he lost his brother, his old very ARC-like independence when he stood as the voice of Rex's better heart. And in this last episode, we were so subtly reminded of why he was an ARC Trooper—we were reminded how proud he made "Captain Rex or Sir."

When the audience first saw Revenge of the Sith, the Clones were still very much presented as mirrors without minds. Cody was the first Clone we really saw named, and all we got was that he knew how to do a cool spin with his helmet, and Obi-Wan liked him well enough to remark to Anakin, "Good man." At the time, it was phrased and presented to the audience that they hadn't known each other for very long, for why else would Obi-Wan choose that moment to remark to Anakin his opinion of this Clone Commander?

No longer do we look at the Clones and only remember their helmets when they raised their blasters and killed Master Mundi or the pretty blue Twi'lek Jedi on that pretty jungle in snow. They were more than just the smart men who nodded to each other, slowed their speeders down, and swiftly took down a Jedi that they had just been riding beside. When the 'ugly Jedi' Lucas created so no one would like him was shot down by his own men, now we are sobbing because we have context.

So, when Fives so summarily tells the tragic fate of he and his brothers to a cab driver that just hears a lot of stories, we know that this story is true. We know that though he is in a time when we are begging for things to say, it cannot be changed.

Fox is just like Fives. He is exactly like Rex. He is no different from Cody. He... is a faceless pawn on Palpatine's board. Worse than that, the fact that we never see Fox's face simply reinforces the fact that in this story, Fox is just a prop.

However, we also know that because Fives is so vivid with life and personality, that Rex is so warm and comforting, and Cody is a long-time friend we've gotten to know since ROTS... we know that under that helmet, Fox is a person.

Fox never gets to be a person. He has no one to tell him what Fives told the Cab Driver. He has the position of someone who has never been told the future. He is a stern and true to his duties as Cody and Rex because he is an honorable, dutiful Clone... as they were all bred to be.

We want to make context for him, stories for him. We want to make sure he is a person so that his tragedy is just as sorrowful as Fives. We want so bad for there to be little quirks to him, loves for him, humor and joy in him because ultimately… Fives got that. We didn't see most of it, but we knew it was there. He was expressive, he loved his brothers, he smiled so large and bright, and he obviously brought joy in Rex's life. Did Fox have anyone to be so proud of? Was anyone just as proud of him?

Tragically, Fox doesn't get to hear Fives's story. He doesn't have the context to consider that maybe this ARC Trooper can stop the real betrayal of the Republic.

Fox is the plot reinforced. As we foolishly beg for Anakin and Rex to listen to Fives, to DO SOMETHING because we do not to relive that tragic moment when Order 66 goes out—when the galaxy we came to know during TCW comes to an end.

While Fives knows the truth, he is the fate that cannot be changed. Fox is the blasterbolt that secured the future, that kept the story on the path it needs to unfold.

Fives and Fox are so much like two characters out of a Shakespearean tale or a Greek Myth.

As I say to people, if Rex has apex-level plot armor, Fox... had a noose. He was doomed from the start. There was no way out for him. No one to show him a way.

I think that is one reason why so many people love Fox. We are drawn to his tragedy, we are compelled to rip off that mask that reveal the face under it.

Since he is ultimately as faceless as any other Clone we never see, he is a mystery in this tragedy. The desire to humanize him before his tragic fate comes to pass is painful, it is visceral. We seek for ways to secure him love because the tragedy has no love for him—that was given to Fives, so as he dies in Rex's arms, so too does our foolish hope that all this could have been prevented.

There was never any salvation because Fox was the poor unlucky bastard who held up the blaster and took the shot. Because the fate is going to happen. Fox's only mercy is that to us, who get to see the broader, colorful tapestry of the story—we who look at the woven segment dedicated to the Clones, we have paid attention, and we cannot forget him no more than we could forget Fives.

We knew Fives's face, his face that, other than that goatee and his simple tattoo, is very much a 'Cody Copy' face, complete with 'The Cody Cut.' We have memorized his boyish smirk, his bold idealistic bravery, we watched his rise to an ARC when he came out from the bottom. We know his story, we knew he told the truth. We know nothing about Fox. We know that as a Clone, he has the face of the Clone—but as we've learned with Fives, we also know that they are so much more than that face.

Their duality is we know Fives and know nothing of Fox. The same way Fives knew the truth, the future—he knew how the story will end, and he brings hope that maybe it can be stopped. We know nothing of Fox—he knows nothing of the truth, the future—he doesn't even know that he is what secures the ending of the story. Saving Fox would have saved all the Clones, we know... that was never going to happen.

Both just wanted to do their duty, that's why we can see their entanglement, their mirror image.

Fox is in 'Fates' with Fives.

#commander fox #arc trooper fives #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #clone troopers #sw rots #star wars meta #// sits down next to fox and stares into the same void #kilt's meta #kilt's writing #kilt's clonely thoughts

[shallowseeker]

Why is Dean so stressed in 14x17?

(We know why.)

Ahem:

The visuals of this are pretty goddamned painful

And WTF is UP with these foreshadowing lyrics??? soft country music -> Jackie Stewart's Maybe Tomorrow>

We had a quarrel Like lovers do Still I can't make my heart Believe we're through For I still love you With all my heart And life means nothing When we're apart Maybe tomorrow When comes the dawn Maybe the dark clouds Will all be gone Maybe tomorrow The sun will shine Maybe tomorrow You'll still be mine

etc etc

This could be foreshadowing...OR maaybe Dean n' Cas actually had a smallish weird fight about Cas leaving again.

I mean, Cas is lying about a ton of stuff (Empty deal, Felix the snake, searching for God), and Dean is pretty good at pinging that, even when he tries to swallow it down and overlook it.

///

And Dean?

Dean is so stressed out that not only do Mary and Jack notice, but they're taking actions to calm him down/cheer him up

Sam prooooobably knows why Dean is unhinged, so he quickly volunteers to get outta Dodge and pick up the food. (I feel ya, Sammy. You are me in this moment.)

Meanwhile, Dean struggles to win Mouse Trap. We get a closeup of the foot kicking the "audience" eye. NOTE that in the actual game, it's just a plain silver ball.

Or at least that's how I remember it and have always seen it. If anyone know of a version that was released with an eye, hit me up.

Otherwise I'm gonna assume it was completely intentional, and Dean is trying to have a normal family game night without "us" interfering.

<Cue Dean screaming over sucking at the game>

He's, uh, wound pretty tightly today, actually.

We can see that from Jack and Mary's following convo. Seems like today, they're the ones tag-teaming to mollify Dean.

(Dean, who is stressed because Cas is AWOL and acting cagey and probably not answering his phone again.)

JACK: "I thought this was supposed to relax him."

Ahahaha, oh Mary. "Let's give Dean a little game and he'll relaxies and be nicies to us!"

Oh yea.

Cas definitely isn't answering his phone, and everyone is tiptoeing around Dean because of it.

///

Tragedy: Jack & Mary get along really well!

Just gonna point out that Jack is actually VERY comfortable with her in general.

He spent MONTHS with her at war. She was his advisor. Given that he ran away from TFW a few weeks after his birth, much of his formative parenting was done by Mary Campbell Winchester, not Sam and Dean (nor Cas)!

She checks in with Jack, but she doesn't push. Result? Genuine, blunt Jack emotions:

(MARY is thinking "FUCK, first my oldest son is acting like a basket-case and screaming at a toddler's game and now my grandson is acting like this. FML. Cas, come home now. Plz for the love of all that is holy.")

Tragically, because of the trust and comradery between them, Mary offers something the others don't: permission to vent.

(MARY: Jack, if you wanna talk shit about everyone, I love shit-talk. )

Funnily enough, Mary doesn't use a lot of words here. It's a partially silent communication. "If you ever wanna vent..." (gentle head tilt like, 'y'know.')

JACK: You're here. I know. (silent appreciative looks, then Jack makes a head motion like 'c'mon let's go').

And ACTUALLY.

Jack reacts genuinely well to that. He and Mary...get each other. He feels comfortable telling her what he really thinks.

See, I think this emotional permissiveness that we see with Mary is devastating. Jack tends to get more genuinely irritable and say what he thinks with Mary (also Dean n' Cas). Even when he's soulless and working hard to "perform" soulfulness, his real irritation slips out with her.

Tragically, that means she was probably always more risk with Jack. Because he's more comfortable throwing his real, ugly emotions at them.

(Sam on the other hand is more cerebral and perhaps at times...unintentionally distant because it's all so eloquent, careful, scripted.)

///

DEAN: (swallowing his nerves and trying to be cheerful and teasing) All right! Winchester game night is a go! Soon as Sammy gets back with two double-pepperoni meat blasters...and a pineapple.

Jack seems appreciative of the banter here. He doesn't wanna be pushed right now.

///

Dean is weird when Sam doesn't pick up his phone right away

When Donatello lands in Nick-shaped peril, Dean tries to call Sam. ONCE. And it gets an...out-of-proportion reaction from Dean.

(It's also...a lot like John's voicemail in Phantom Traveler. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. He can help.")

He's prickly:

SAM: "You've reached Sam Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my brother."

DEAN: Sam's not answering his phone. This whole damn town's a dead zone.

That's...not exactly true, as least what we've see so far in the series? They make calls from the bunker a lot.

*coughs* This lends some credence to the fact that his prior stress (the stress that Jack and Mary were working together to help) is about his, uh, phone. Phone calls. Phone calls not being answered, even.

READ: This is about Cas. Who hasn't been answering his phone. And Dean? Dean rationalizes that maybe his calls aren't landing because of where he is.

///

There's some truth to Dean's woes/anxiety. When Cas leaves, bad things tend to happen. And hey, they happen when Cas is there too, sure, but with Cas there, Dean can't help but feel more resilient, more equipped to take on whatever-it-is.

///

But yeah, it's looking like Dean and Cas maybe already had a little, reserved/restrained fight prior to Jack killing Mary. Dean was acting...really weird. Forced.

#spn 14x17 #spn game night #fambly #jack stuff #dean stuff #dean/cas #mary stuff #even performing and trying to see like his soul is intact...with mary jack's REAL feelings leak out more readily

[harunayuuka2060]

The teacher: Alright, everyone. Who wants to volunteer for a short roleplay in front of the class? I have a script here that you can follow.

The teacher: Leona Kingscholar?

Leona: ...

Leona, frowns: I'm not volunteering.

The teacher: But you were raising your hand. And for your partner, maybe we could have—

MC, enters the classroom, carrying a box:

MC: Hello, prof! Snacks from the headmage!

The teacher: Oh, perfect! Thank you! And do you mind being Kingscholar's partner?

MC: Hm? Partner for what?

The teacher: A short roleplay. Here.

MC, reads it: Lovers from Savanna— Is this a tragic story?

MC, cracks up because they heard him growled:

The teacher: Yes. And it would only take a few minutes to act this out.

MC: Sure. *glances at Leona* *breaks into a smile again*

Ruggie: Does it remind you that time, MC? Shishishi!

Leona: Shut up.

MC, giving Leona a piggyback ride:

Leona: You're so stupid back there.

MC: Really? I think I did great. I mean, you got excused out of that class.

Leona, frowns: You think that is a good thing?

MC: Yeah? It's been a while since we last hang out. And what's with you banning me from entering Savanaclaw?

Leona: Hmph. My brother and Cheka often visit.

MC: Ah... You don't want to get our relationship misunderstood again, no? *laughs*

Leona: Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut instead of blabbering nonsense.

MC: Dude, they asked if I think you were cute. What did you want me to do? Tell them that you're ugly?

MC, screams when he pinched their cheek:

Leona: You could've said you didn't know.

MC: How would that work?!

Malleus: Hm? You're with Kingscholar today.

MC, walks towards him, still carrying Leona on their back: Hello, Malleus!

Leona, clicks his tongue:

Malleus: ...

Malleus, smiles: Hello. And how are you Kingscholar?

Leona: None of your business.

MC: Dude... Why so snappy?

Malleus, chuckles: Oh, child of man. You're quite oblivious sometimes.

MC: Huh?

Malleus: Anyway, I have something for you.

MC: Are these tickets?

Malleus: Yes. Lilia gave them to me. I was thinking that we should go together. But since you were with Kingscholar, maybe you should go with him instead.

Leona, frowns: What are you trying to play here?

Malleus, chuckles: I'm supporting you. Can't you see it?

MC: Supporting him on what? Malleus, you're being suspicious. *laughs*

Malleus: No, no. Of course not. Enjoy. *then takes his leave*

MC: Let's see...

Leona, take a look as well: What the—

MC: Oh!! These are tickets for a couple-fest!

Leona: ...

Leona: I'm not going.

MC: Aww... Okay. I'll just ask Jack—Ooft!

Leona, has whacked their head: You're not even going to convince me?

MC, laughs: Sorry-sorry. You'll go, right?

Leona: Tch.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst ruggie #twst malleus #housewardens' friend

[buckleydiazmp4]

hey, you were saying that you don't think izzy should've died and that you didn't agree with his character arc for reflected upon reasons. is it okay to ask what those reasons are? you just always have interesting opinions about tv and i'd love to know about this one

oh hi! well i'm happy to share my thoughts since you asked so politely lol i just didn't share them earlier bc when there's discourse ppl act so vile sometimes

anyways. izzy hands huh. multi-faceted, complicated, very intense character. let me begin by saying the fact that david jenkins and con o'neill managed to do a total 180 on izzy in terms of how the audience reacted to him between s1 and s2 without fundamentally ruining his character is astounding!! i think the whole point of izzy has always been the fact that he's a man who tends to hold on too tight to the stuff that gives him a semblance of safety (even though that stuff is usually pretty traumatic lol) and across s2 we see him slowly loosening his grip on blackbeard. the fact that it was precisely blackbeard's brutal return that made izzy realize both him and ed were in too deep really just adds to how awesome the writing was this season.

and now, just to clarify: i didn't say i disagreed with his character arc, but with the way it was executed. as in, i think izzy's journey was perfectly well written and acted out by con (please give that man an award), and up until the finale it was actually very well executed!! it's the last plot device that i disagree with.

killing off izzy was a bold choice, and a very common way in which writers both show redemption and pull poignant reactions from the audience, which is ultimately what any show strives for!! for the audience to feel deeply about certain characters or stories. i think ppl have forgotten that and focused so much on wanting everything to be emotionally "clean" and lacking of controversy. guys!! the whole of fiction isn't supposed to cater to everyone!! that's why it's fiction!! it can be manipulated by creators and audience alike and each individual piece is supposed to be different. if you don't like emotional ups and downs in the media you consume that's understandable, but don't condemn the pieces of media that do have it. simply don't watch if you don't like it. i personally like these feelings, the ugly, and the dirty, and the unfair, and the painful, the human!!! it's part of the experience and they did it well this season.

even with that in mind though, i think death was only one of the many options through which they could've symbolized izzy finally letting go of blackbeard and the toxicity that name represented for all of them. i get how 'i wanna go' as a show of the deliberate decision izzy is making to escape from the emotional turmoil of ruthless piracy is trying to make his death seem like a way for him to rest, but. it's a pretty definitive rest and i think it wouldn't have been necessary, considering that one of the main things izzy learns this season is that you can spend years in a terrible environment but it's still never too late to pursue something softer for yourself and for the people you love. he says it, too: 'it's about belonging'.

as much as it is understandable to have wanted to take the way of the tragic and unexpected, for the sake of impact and to heighten the significance of what izzy has become this season, it would've been nice to see him stare at a long, happy future with the new family he's acquired aboard the revenge. ed let go of blackbeard without it meaning he had to renounce to the rest of his life for it, why couldn't izzy? it would've been wonderful to see all those years of life experience as a pirate reconcile with the reality that they're not dependent on isolating yourself from others. for izzy to have become captain, or even frenchie's first mate, would've been an excellent seal to his story, even leaving a future full of possibility to further explore how his character gets acquainted with his new way of looking at the world.

izzy put it that way: it is about letting go of ego for something larger. and his death can mean many things simultaneously, but it can also mean that without his ego he couldn't live. which. i do disagree with, so.

i don't know!!! i just think about it many different ways!! like in this post specifically i chose to see it under a different light than what i'm currently writing, and neither of those opinions cancel each other out; they can coexist!! that's the fun thing about fictional media interpretation!! it's also why we have devices like fanfiction and fanart and meta!! the fact that something played out in a specific way on screen doesn't mean it's set in stone as something good or bad, there are always shades of grey.

#woof this thing turned out SO LONG wtf #anyways i'm flattered you value my tv opinions :) and i hope this answered your question #anon #sara answers #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #blackbeard #david jenkins #con o'neill

[watanabes-cum-dump]

PGR and the portrayal of war aka another compare and contrast to Genshin

One thing I wanna give to PGR’s story is how they handle war. Like, for the most part I think only war films capture that brutality really well, but for most fictional wars it’s treated more like just something that happened. All the dead people mean nothing to the viewer, and we only care when a major character dies. 

PGR is like that initially too, but as the story progresses and especially in recent chapters the horrors of war are highlighted. 

From the batshit crazy amount of deaths in Evernight Beat, to the look into the politics of the world government, the early construct programs and the claustrophobic shelter/bunker in Surviving Luceum. It’s all ugly, really, really ugly. There is no glory, because even skk and the Gray Raven as “the heroes” are still suffering and making lots of sacrifices. 

Can we also talk abt the NPC deaths? Bc those are the most tragic. 

Obviously, PGR will probably never kill off a playable/important character. But that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt if it’s an NPC. 

I wanna compare Teppei to the head Commandant. That old guy, Hans I think? I forgot his name. There are worst NPC deaths in PGR but I wanna compare head Commandant and Teppei bc they’re both soldiers. 

As much as everybody loved to say how sad Teppei’s death is, come on ya’ll it really was not that bad. Teppei was part of our little squad in the resistance but what the fuck do we care? Why is he fighting against Inazuma’s Shogunate? We don’t know. Seems like he’s trying to get buddy buddy with everyone given how all he does is get along with the traveler and want to get matching uniforms or whatever. 

He dies of rapid aging because of the delusions Kokomi stupidly bought from the Fatui no questions asked. Okay then. Uh, how sad? Yeah there’s that dialogue when he’s old abt oh he wants to get new uniforms but… didn’t that just feel like Hoyo was trying to be sad? Listen when they really want to be sad, they are sad. This is not bashing Hoyo’s writing, just Inazuma’s story as a whole. Come on, that arc was horrible and you know it. Hoyo’s writing is emotional, the recent Honkai chapters look like they’re gonna be tear jerkers (and I don’t even play that game) Xiao’s whole thing in the chasm, Himeko’s death, all of the we will be reunited quests with Dainsleif. I just really hated Inazuma sorry. 

Point is, it just wasn’t sad because we don’t know shit about him and Traveler doesn’t seem to hung up either. He was just a soldier, and the war against the Raiden Shogun was just one huge fucking joke. Stakes? What the fuck are those. The leader was Kokomi who we all knew Hoyo would never have the balls to kill because she’s a) a marketable waifu and b) not a mentor figure. We had Gorou who was just dogboy. I guess there was Ayaka but she isn’t actually part of Kokomi’s army (same with Ayato) there’s also Yoimiya but these are characters who the story would not benefit from killing. 

Head Commandant was different. I didn’t see his death from a million miles away (though I probably should have ngl) but then again when he was introduced he was kind of an asshole. I think PGR’s visual novel format helps its characterization a lot, not that Genshin’s format is bad, Dunyarazad is one of my favourite NPCs and she was characterized just fine. But the way they describe Head Commandant just tells you everything, same with the way he speaks. 

“Fluorescent lights form the outline an elderly man in the air. He is wearing the same standard issued commandant uniform. Every meticulous pleat is as stern and upright as his expression. The man’s eyes are slightly clouded with age, but his posture remains upright like that of an unyielding pine” (Echo Aria) 

Immediately he’s like the token “god damn it kids these days” conservative asshole who softens up to the main character. Except, we see him talking to one of the humans around his age who was left behind on Earth during the Punishing Virus’ outbreak. And then he’s not just asshole old man, he’s asshole old man who’s seen shit and wants to keep pushing forward in this horrible war without exploiting children (cough cough Nikola) That second part (not the children thing) is driven home during Evernight beat when he tells everyone to evacuate so he can finish the job. 

We don’t see it obviously, but we are given every grisly detail about his death as the Punishing virus turns him inside out. How he’s sweating blood and looses feeling in his limbs, yet still pushes forward to try and save as many people as he can. 

I took quite a few screenshots so that I don’t fuck up my facts 

But you don’t need to read all of that to know this man’s conviction

These two screenshots are all you need. 

The only medal he needs is the blood drying on his chest to prove that he lived and died as a soldier. 

Though I wouldn’t say his death made me cry, it didn’t have to. It hit hard. He was characterized for Echo Aria, and died in Evernight beat, and from his death on, everything goes to shit and the reality of what war is dawns on the player. 

I say this having watched 1917 and Saving Private Ryan; I think PGR displays the reality of war really well. This is some heavy fucking baggage and not for “spicing up your character with some trauma’s sake.” It’s really part of the story. Welcome to PGR, the baggage is free but at what cost :’) 

#I want to talk more about how character death is handled in media but I think I’ve essayed myself out #pgr #Punishing gray raven #again no hate to hoyo #I fully believe that Honkai’s story is amazing and Genshin story has been amazing barring again Inazuma and the little bits before it tbh

[ohmeadows]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

i wasn't tagged, i just wanted to do it 😌

How many works do you have on AO3? 10 currently. if we’re counting all past accounts and orphaned works… easily 50-60.

What is your AO3 word count? currently 149,834. if we account for the grand total, well. more. ha.

What fandoms do you write for? i’ve been in quite a few, mostly video game ones, but right now it’s mostly only honkai star rail on my mind though i have the odd rhaenicent idea rattling around.

What are your top five fics by kudos? you and me are a twisted fantasy (kafhime enemies to milkies), i’m on a leash called you (kafhime with dom himeko), da capo al fine (kafhime time loops), the dew of dying stars (ruanliu mara body horrors and cannibalism), and spark (kafxuan horny).

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes, i try to most of the time! i had a lapse this fall where i just didn’t have enough energy to do it for months on end, but i cleared my inbox of that backlog on january 1st. i’m trying to be more consistent going forward.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? none i can link bc orphaned or on old accounts, but i do love a good angsty ending if it makes sense for the way the story has been going. kinda aching to write one again i won’t lie.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of them are quite happy in terms of endings! i know people doomed so hard about da capo was going to have a sad tragic ending but that was… never in the cards for me. i already have it written and i’m very excited about getting there.

Do you get hate on fics? sort of. i wish people would offer up critiques instead of just leaving comments like “ew this is unhygienic”, “disgusting”, “can’t believe i read 8 chapters just for BOTTOM KAFKA” or whatever else pointless stuff i’ve deleted.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? mostly, yes. i think 99% of my writing stems from a very clear and vivid image of a sex scene, and then me building backwards to root that sex in a way that feels natural and consistent to both characters. and i'm always looking for some new angle in smut, or else it'll bore me, so that means exploring new kinks or dynamics each time.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? no, i frankly hate crossovers and it’s one of my blocked tags on ao3.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? oh yeah lol. sucks! what can you do! it always amuses me because if these people just bothered to talk to me in the way of “hey, i love x idea, i want to do my own take of it, can i discuss some ideas with you?” i’d be 100% down to help nurture that. i reblogged a post about it the other day but i definitely feel that fandom community has turned into a fandom clout competition which feeds into this, too many of us looking for a quick boost in some imaginary clout chasing.

Have you ever had a fic translated? several, yes. for a while i had a bunch of old fics translated into russian. it always flatters me that people would go through that effort with my works.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? yes, i’ve written a ton of unpublished wips with others and enjoyed the process, and then one i co-wrote with junie and published in an old fandom. i’d love to do it again, tbh, it’s incredibly energizing and fun, but wrangling two people’s creativity together over an extended period of time is always a lot of work and agreements, as well as being able to actually produce. you both need to trust each other and deliver.

What's your all-time favourite ship? uhm. i don’t know. i really don’t. ships by themselves don’t make me feel that excited, weirdly enough, but rather what people make exist in them. i have absolutely lost interest in compelling ships because the fandom de-fanged them, pulled their punches or morphed every single aspect about them into “uwu soft healing together”. (i could go into a long rant about how healing tends to be kinda… ugly…. in interpersonal dynamics. but that’s for another time.)

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? most of my unfinished wips i’m completely at ease with leaving behind in the dust. most. i do spend a lot of time thinking about a dorothea/rhea court drama au.

What are your writing strengths? visuals, i think. i have a very vivid inner eye when writing and the scenes play out like a movie for me, so i pay a lot of attention to the choreography and details of the scenes, where everyone’s hands are, and so on, to try and translate my inner vision to text. i can be a very harsh editor which means i’m always looking at what effect each scene is striving for — does it make sense for it to meander, or does it need to be snappier, sharper?

What are your writing weaknesses? i feel like my vocabulary could do with enrichment. i spend a lot of time looking up synonyms because they never stick in my head, and most of my reading books is spent noting down words in a notepad i’d like to use. sometimes i leave too much to be fixed in editing instead of putting it all down in the first draft. i don’t like involving too many characters so sometimes i think fics can get a bit too narrow — and sometimes i can play that for good effect, i guess.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? if you know it, sure, if you want; or at the very least use a beta who knows the language. i tried reading some fics that made use of my mother tongue and my god was it jarringly obvious google translate as well as irrelevant. i think it is worth asking twice what effect it will have for the reader and if it will come off as jarring.

First fandom you wrote for? lord of the rings! man i loved my mary sue silly era.

Favourite fic you've ever written? completed: spark. the amount of research i poured into it, as well as dedicating myself to convoluting fu xuan’s internal voice and outlook on things was some real hard work, but satisfying in the end. incomplete: the dew of dying stars. this one pushed me to research more, think harder about what i wanted to convey, and make them be worse. it’s been a very fun shift in how much i allow myself to dig deep, and relaxing and trusting the audience more. truly a new level of sicko weirdo fic for me.

#meadows.txt #meadows writes

[monstersinthecosmos]

okay so i just finished IWTV....... oh my god!!! oh my god. it's embarrassing how insane this book made me. for the last 50 pages or so i was regularly taking breaks to run laps around my apartment like a lunatic because i physically could not handle all the pain and angst and despair coursing through my body LOL. i got so immersed in the story i forgot pretty much all of the background for armand you'd given me (and i can't remember most of it even now!!! my mind is in shambles) and still, very organically...... he became my favorite. even despite all of the. you know. and maybe even more so BECAUSE of it. i've just never witnessed an evil so heartbreaking!!!!!!!!!!? THE ABSOLUTE DEVOTION?????? DERANGED AND UGLY AND UTTERLY BEYOND REASON????!!!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!! i'm sorry for vomiting all over your inbox i genuinely cannot conjure up any resemblance of coherence atm!!! THANK YOU FOR POINTING ME TOWARDS SUCH LUXURIOUS PAIN i LOVE it i want MORE! <3 <3 <3

oh my god OH MY GOd ,... omg... 🥹🥹

WELCOME WELCOME YES THIS HOW I FEEL EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE I WISH I KNEW WHERE TO EVEN START 

(I really feel like just answering with this meme and not subjecting you to a wall of text but I'LL TRY !!!)

GOD LIKE WHAT THIS BOOK DOES SO SO WELL AS LIKE IMMEDIATELY GROUND FLOOR OF THE SERIES LETS US ALL KNOW THAT ALL CHARACTERS COMMIT EVILS AND ARE NOT GREAT PEOPLE BUT THEY ALL WANT TO BE LOVED AND ARE TRYING LOL. 

LIKE LOUIS MOVES FROM ABUSIVE PARTNER TO ABUSIVE PARTNER UNTIL HE’S FINALLY SO DEAD INSIDE THAT HE CAN BE BY HIMSELF AND WALK AWAY.

AND LIKE IT’S SO HARD BECAUSE YOU SEE HOW CLAUDIA FREED HIM FROM LESTAT, AND THEN ARMAND FREES HIM FROM CLAUDIA. AND SOMETHING THAT ALWAYS FUCKS ME UP SO BAD IS THAT ARMAND HAS SUCH A SKEWED MAP OF APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR BUT HE’S NOT EVIL. HE’S TRYING HIS BEST, IN THE BEST WAY HE KNOWS HOW.

Wait hang on I’ll take caps off I’m so sorry lmfao I’m just really worked up. 

I think there’s a sort of meme-ier version of this like Armand going “hi 🙂 I killed your daughter 🙂 you can kill all my friends if you want 🙂 I won’t stop you 🙂 do you like me? 🙂"

But it’s actually SO TRAGIC god. Like I read IWTV as a story about domestic abuse and the family cycle, personally, and I see Claudia as an Oedipal figure. Louis is unable to get away from Lestat until Claudia makes it happen, and Claudia winds up being so cold and cruel and he’s stuck with her until Armand frees him. And there’s a lot of conversation about like, Armand being manipulative or what he did to CREATE this, how did he push them both where he wanted them, etc, but the thing that gets me is that when Louis wants to break up, Armand lets him leave.

And like SKIP WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SAY IF YOU DONT WANT A SPOILER BUT LIKE I DID MENTION THIS IN MY OTHER POST  —— but if you read Lestat’s book and get the background on how he and Armand met, it’s sort of the opposite where Lestat destroys Armand’s coven and Armand is so devastated about it, vs 100 years later he ALLOWS Louis to destroy a coven. AND HE GETS THE GUY!!!! In TVL he like BEGS Lestat to be with him and Lestat isn’t interested lol but he gets to keep Louis this time.

IDK IDK IM JUST REAL EMOTIONAL. 

And like !!!!!!!! God idk. If you read more of the books you get so many indications about how people in Armand’s life don’t respect him, and a lot of times people write him off because he looks like a teenager. They don’t take the danger of him seriously, which makes him even more dangerous. But it’s so heartbreaking reading IWTV and seeing how Louis respects him so much, and sees him as wise and calm, and needs him! 

And like maybe Louis is uniquely qualified to not judge people for looking like children because he has spent the last 90 years with a vampire child and respects her as an adult, you know?

If you keep reading you’ll see how much Anne Rice like retcons or how much the continuity flops around so like EVERY book will have a Doylist vs Watsonian conversation like, she never comes out and says that Armand looks like he’s 17 in IWTV and in the later books it’s a huge point every time he’s on the page just HE’S SHORT HE’S 17 HE LOOKS LIKE A CHERUB etc and maybe that’s because she hadn’t decided that yet but also maybe Louis is the only person who fucking respects him. :) 

#im DEVASTATED HELLO #i'm sad about armand again good morning! #armand's trauma hole #trauma hole theory #vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire #armand/louis #deep ass thoughts about vampires

[road2love]

tagged by @rmnu teehee 😈 hi bradley!!!!!

1. Are you named after anyone? Not really #special #unique

2. When was the last time you cried? 3 days ago listening to a sad fucking song imagining a very tragic fictional scenario 😔

3. Do you have kids? Good heavens no 🙏

4. What sports do you play/have you played? I've been on and off on swimming my entire life + played volleyball in middle school. Good times (I do miss swimming a lot)

5. Do you use sarcasm? Only with my fwends...

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone? Their hair 🫵 I love hair

7. Eye color? Brown teehee

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Umm not a particular preference...?

9. Any talents? I can draw and speak in public moderately well 🪰 Oh I also make a mean fried rice heh 😏

10. Where were you born? Right here in this ugly fucking city I live in 👇

11. Hobbies? Drawing...reading...and (sighs) gaming...oh I also enjoy cooking from time to time

12. Any pets? Yes my doggy... Abril

13. Height? 165 cm ^_^

14. Favorite school subject? Lich erature and I have a soft spot for statistic

15. Dream job? Something public relations hehe

Tag 15 people? Good grief I don't think I know that many people 😨 umm @maniacpixiedreamgirl @qhorinhalfhand @amethyinst @springwolves @fallister @yrlietlanaevyss @elfguys @desempleadas SORRY a client is coming rn I gtg if you see this prompt do it ...... Or not. Your choice....