#I think anyone protecting them is just....strange in different ways for each of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually.

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body.

You pretended to be dead.

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky.

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly.

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands.

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it.

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.”

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up.

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening.

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest.

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort.

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.”

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character.

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it.

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up.

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood.

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?”

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull.

Missions were rarely a failure.

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.”

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?”

“None. Just us.”

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.”

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway.

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it.

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it.

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation.

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room.

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly.

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off.

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin.

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction.

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.”

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue.

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in.

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight.

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends.

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore.

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him. “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh.

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why.

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden.

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions.

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them.

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too.

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue.

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch.

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined.

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you.

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like.

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse.

This couldn’t continue.

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side.

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.”

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air.

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met.

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires.

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?”

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?”

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up.

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.”

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth.

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas.

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless.

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds.

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up.

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though.

On the second week, it got easier.

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area.

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over.

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table.

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally.

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails.

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind.

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you.

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces.

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair.

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse.

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up...

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring.

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!”

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp.

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor.

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers.

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated.

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug.

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly.

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air.

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure.

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.”

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly.

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward.

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game.

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching.

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet.

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table.

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?”

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.”

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you.

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss.

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.”

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it.

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking.

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second.

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos.

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint.

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat.

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages.

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out.

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.”

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?”

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room.

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out.

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently.

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.”

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation.

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.”

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back.

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat.

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney.

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly.

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful.

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand.

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing.

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.”

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair.

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back.

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts.

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high.

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river.

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask.

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare.

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it.

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh.

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge.

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already.

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk.

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…”

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be.

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.”

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip.

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able.

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second.

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table.

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion.

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?”

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer.

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix.

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob.

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.”

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality.

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer.

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.”

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own.

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies.

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep.

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.”

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though.

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect.

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt.

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you.

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back.

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw.

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms.

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile.

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.”

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting.

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial.

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action.

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot.

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad.

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you.

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute.

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

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love notes with sejanus plinth and ❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜ please?💗💗 (during his peacekeeper time too if that's okay?💕💕💕)

The Hob has always been a rowdy place, drinking and dancing mixing with high tempers and the horrors of everyday life. More often than not, someone will start swinging before falling asleep with their head on the bar or their friends drag them safely home. Sometimes, more rarely, there’ll be a full on brawl, when life gets especially bad and even all the booze and music in the world can’t make it any better.

Tonight is one of those nights, with seemingly the entirety of District Twelve brimming with barely controlled rage, and once liquor gets added to that equation, it’s impossible to stop it all from exploding. With the frequent visits from off-duty peacekeepers, fights are either extinguished before they can start or they become full on brawls, and you can never know the difference until it’s done.

With all the time you spend in the crowd, you’ve become attuned to the little things, the slight changes in atmosphere that let you know someone’s about to start swinging. You’d been laughing at Sejanus, at the way his face twisted up every time he took a swig from the drink you’d ordered him, when you could hear a bottle hit the bar just a little too hard.

Sejanus, who always pays attention to you instead of the music on his frequent visits to the Hob, doesn’t notice the noise but he does notice that your laughter has stopped and that the smile has disappeared from your face. There’s another slam, a little louder this time, and when you wince, Sejanus puts the pieces together.

“I gotta get Maude Ivory off stage,” you say as you push from your seat, determinedly pushing through the crowd to reach your youngest cousin. You don’t think anyone would try and hurt her, but you don’t want her to see any more violence than she absolutely has to. Sejanus is hot on your heels, a comforting presence at your back as you bump and shove your way through a sea of people.

Only a few feet from the stage, all hell breaks loose, two men close to the bar pummeling each other like there’s no tomorrow. The music stops, replaced by a mixture of shouts for them to stop and hollers for them to keep going.

“I got her,” Sejanus tells you, pushing the rest of the way to the stage and gently helping Maude Ivory get down. You take her hand, rushing her backstage before heading back out, despite your slight desire to stay safe and hidden.

It’s a madhouse when you return, other people joining in on the fight after they’ve been shoved or accidentally hit by one of the two original drunks. Sejanus and his friend, the other peacekeeper off duty, rush towards the center of the crowd to pull the men apart, getting hit more times than you can count by wayward punches and a struggle to get free once the men have been grabbed. Other peacekeepers come to escort the men out, a strange silence taking over the Hob before the drinks start flowing again and Maude Ivory emerges from backstage.

When you finally see Sejanus again, he’s sporting a black eye and a busted lip, and when he notices you, he smiles so wide the cut starts to bleed again.

“What’re you doing over here?” Sejanus asks, in the middle of his peacekeeper rounds. When you’d woken up, you realized that you didn’t know what happened to him after the fight, and the guilt was practically eating you alive.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for protecting me last night,” you tell him, stopping yourself from wondering how much worse it would have been if he wasn’t there to put an end to it. He’s going to brush it off, you can tell by the way he’s already shrugging as if what he did was no big deal, so you lean over to plant a kiss on his cheek, certain that it’ll make him speechless.

Unsurprisingly, you were correct, and whatever words he was planning on speaking die on his tongue, eyes growing wide and smile growing wider.

“Make sure you put some ice on that eye,” you say as you turn and leave, grinning like an idiot and praying that no one sees you.

as always tagging my partner in crime (hehehe) @beybaldes

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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torialefay · 4 months

Text

🗝️ Sun in Scorpio ♠️

minho as your boyfriend!!! (pt. 1)

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨minho x reader (f); possessive fluff, slightly suggestive at the end

✨take a look into lee know’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be! in this post, i will be talking about his sun in scorpio. this is a series!!! so follow up later if u want more <3

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect minho in a relationship :)

✨word count: ~2k

✨ author’s notes:

★★ (1) i do do brief astrological compatibility readings if anyone wants one! if you’re interested, message me your birth date, time, and location OR lmk your placements. i’m gonna limit the reading to include you x 1 skz member only! just specify who you’d like.

(2) i am wanting to get better at using neutral-gendered pronouns so more people can feel included in my posts. i’m really struggling since i use phrases like “my girl” a lot. anyone who has some good alternatives or tips, please message and lmk! i really want to be able to start cranking out more gn options!

(3) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

(4) i will not be going into ascendant or house placements because lee know’s birth time has not been confirmed for AM or PM

✨warnings: some explicit language

✨ tl/dr: minho as your boyfriend will spoil the shit out of you and charm you until you can’t help but live and breathe him. he’s got to keep a grasp on you at all times- literally AND figuratively.

Sun in Scorpio: Sun signs are all about personality- the face you show the world! It is also the lens through which you usually see yourself and how friends would describe you.

• Scorpio has two planetary rulers- Mars and Pluto. Mars is the ruler of action and aggression, while Pluto is the ruler of transformation and rebirth. Scorpio is an amazing mixture of the two, as it embodies strong desires, innate control, and deep mental and supraphysical understanding.

• Scorpios encapsulate passion. They tend to have a deep understanding of others and can utilize this power to their advantage. They are able to influence others to do as they wish. Scorpios have a deep understanding of beauty and admire things that could be seen as dark, different, or strange to others.

• Scorpios have a tendency to become obsessive, controlling even, if not careful. They get fully engrossed into who other people are and want others to fully engross themselves in them as well.

• Scorpios are known for their creative and expressive nature- something that comes naturally to them. Because of this, they can really shine in areas such as art or drama, historian or detective, intuitive research or psychology, and are amazing for dabbling in the occult.

As your boyfriend:

• He is super protective over you. He’s always watching behind you as you do something to make sure you’re okay and no one is bothering you… And to be honest, I don’t think many people WOULD bother you, knowing you were the person with a psycho boyfriend (in a good way <3).

• He would bring you lunch any chance he got. If you were at work/school and he knew you hadn’t brought lunch or hadn’t had lunch that day, he’d definitely bring you something- whether he picked it up or made it himself. It also gives him an excuse to see you and check on you during the day.

• He knows when you are having a bad day. And he knows exactly how you need him to act in order to help you deal with it. When he senses something is wrong, he will pull you onto his lap in a hug and tell you to talk to him about it.

• Other people think he’s cold, but he’s definitely not with you. He loves you and nurtures you. He takes pride in knowing every part of you. He loves that there is a side of him that is specifically for you and not for the rest of the world. He’d like it if you were the same.

• He loves when the both of you have a chance to get dressed up. To look good for one another and just enjoy the other’s company.

• He loves nice dates, ones where he can make a grand gesture to make you feel loved and special.

• That’s why it was no surprise when he’d texted you earlier to dress up pretty for him and he’d be at your apartment to pick you up at 8.

• This was a monthly occurrence. Him surprising you with a nice date- and when I say nice, I mean NICE.

• Yes, you went on smaller dates a lot too, but he made it a priority to spoil you with something bigger at least once a month.

• So here you were, all dressed up in your favorite dark blue satin dress. It looked absolutely enchanting with it’s spaghetti strap and cowl neck top with a deep slit running up the side.

• You made sure to do your hair his favorite way- loose curls all brought to one side.

• You gave yourself one final look in the mirror, swiping on a glossy coat over your lip stain before heading out the door. Minho was already waiting on you downstairs.

• When he saw you like this, he always smirked.

• ‘Looking so beautiful all for me,’ he thought.

• Once you got to him, he just smiled at you, taking your hand in his.

• “Now, are you going to tell me where we’re off to?” you asked.

• “Shhh, you’ll see,” he kissed your hand, leading you out to the car.

• He always made sure to open the car door for you and make sure you were buckled before you took off.

• And of course he always had to rest one hand in his favorite spot- gripping onto one of your thighs. It was harder when you had a dress on, but he’d never let that stop him. He needed to always have a hold on you.

• Arriving at your destination, it was a quaint building you didn’t recognize. You’d never been here before, but it seemed to be a small restaurant with only a few (very nice) cars in the parking lot.

• The valet rushed to the car to speak with Minho and grab the keys.

• You smiled up at your boyfriend as he walked around to your side of the car, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his to help you stand.

• As you made your way toward the restaurant, he made sure to hold tightly to the one hand, while the other stabilized on your hip, making sure you were safe while ascending the few steps in front of you.

• “Hello, can I get your name please?” the host of the restaurant asked as you stepped inside. It was a beautiful restaurant- dark and sensual. There was very minimal lighting, but what they did have gave a beautiful warm glow. The sleek bar to the right shined bright from the sparkly crystal bottles aligning each of the shelves- luxury liquor only.

• “Lee,” he said, matter of factly, only taking a brief moment to look at the host. Tonight, his eyes were only on you.

• The host presented a big smile before stepping to the side and motioning for you to follow him. “Great, Mr. Lee. Right this way.”

• Minho let you walk just slightly in front of him, always watching your back to make sure he had a full view of you. One hand continued to rest on your hip. It was like it was glued there. He never wanted to lose contact with you.

• The host led you down one of the dimly-lit aisles and to the back of the building. Off to itself, he rounded a corner to lead to a beautiful, private, screened-in room in the back. It sat adjacent to a huge lake, which could be seen through the mesh netting of the “walls” that enclosed you. With the moon shining bright over the water and the stars on full display, it was a captivating view.

• Minho pulled your seat out for you to sit before pushing you in towards the table. You allowed yourself this moment to look around the beautiful secluded room. It was still dark like the interior of the building, with the nice, warm lighting. But there was an even more bewitching feeling to it through the beautiful scenery and soft music that was emanating from afar. It was absolutely breathtaking.

• If there was anything Minho knew how to do, it was how to wine and dine you. He made sure to start the evening with ordering a full bottle of your favorite reserve red wine. He loved the way you looked and smiled at him after a glass or two- how lovey dovey you got for him and how you began to try and charm him, getting all giggly, before the night was over with.

• He encouraged you to get whatever you wanted off the menu- even if it was the most expensive thing by far, he wanted you to have it. He was never going to let you pay anyways.

• Once you decided what you wanted, he always wanted you to tell him so that he could order for you. It wasn’t that he thought you were incapable of ordering for yourself, but he wanted you to know that you would always be taken care of when he was there. He didn’t want you to have to take your attention off of him for one second.

• Your heart always swelled as you watched him order- for some odd reason. And he never ordered just what the two of you wanted. No way. He made sure to always order at least 3 or so dishes so that you could share with each other and sample everything. He would make sure to have something on the table that his baby loved.

• Even if you were absolutely stuffed, if he noticed there was still wine in your glass, he would always order a dessert for the two of you to share. And although he wouldn’t admit it, this was also a way to extend his time out with you.

• He’d make sure to do all the gross romantic stuff with you, like feeding you a bite of the crème brulèe straight from his spoon. He definitely didn’t want to overdo it though and would NOT do it unless you two were in private.

• At the end of the evening, after your head felt light and bubbly from the wine and your stomach was full, he made sure to tip the waiter very generously. You loved that about him. That’s why the restaurant owners and workers always loved to see the two of you back.

• Taking the last sip of your whine, you leaned in with a smile, half-whispering “thank you for dinner, jagi.”

• “Thank you for being here with me, love,” he said back. Slowly, he stood from his chair, so naturally you waited in yours as he always requested, so that he could again pull your chair out before you stood.

• He made his way over as usual, but he didn’t put his hands on the chair.

• Instead, he placed one hand on the nape of your neck, bending down to plant a soft kiss to your shoulder and then to the side of you neck.

• You let out a giggle as you started to blush. “Stop itttt, you know we can’t do that here.”

• “I know, but I had to at least get a little bit out,” he smiled smugly.

• Suddenly, you saw his hands both in front of you and a cold sensation on your chest. You looked down to see a beautiful silver pendant resting just between your collar bones.

• “What’s this?” you asked, as you felt his hands secure the latch at the back of your neck.

• He walked to your side so that he could see your face and bent down, resting one knee on the ground.

• “Why don’t you look at it and tell me?”

• You picked the small-ish pendant up to examine it. On the front, in dainty cursive font read “LMH”. Lee Min Ho.

• The back had a single, small diamond implanted in it. Around it’s edges, it had a Latin phrase inscription. You read it aloud. “Aut viam inveniam aut faciam?” You tried to make the words out, looking to your boyfriend for confirmation.

• “That’s right jagi. ‘I will either find a way or make one’. For you.” He smiled up at you, as your looked at him with eyes of endearment. The love you had for this man was unbearable. You could hardly stand the emotions that he made you feel.

• He gently reached out for your hand, planting a gentle kiss to it, before standing up and motioning for you to do the same.

• Once you were upright on your feet, he leaned in next to your ear. “It looks beautiful on you, by the way,” he whispered seductively.

• You smirked, the boldness of the wine starting to manifest out of you. “I’ll keep it on for you later. Everything else is coming off,” you winked.

• His eyes grew large for a split second before turning himself so that he body was right up against yours. He swiftly let his hands wonder to your waist, then hips, then grab lightly at your ass.

• “That sounds perfect,” he planted a small, sweet kiss to your lips. “But that necklace is never coming off of you. Promise me. Promise me you’ll wear it at all times, and I’ll always be with you.” He looked at you, his face full of sincerity and genuine lust.

• “Anything for you,” you gave in to him before leaning in for another slow kiss.

• You knew that’s exactly what he wanted. For you to give yourself fully to him. You’d play around with him later, but for now, you would give yourself up. He knew you were his.

———————————————————————————————————

✨ author’s note: lowkey thinking this man put a tracker in the necklace lol. he just wants to know you’re safe and also wants to be able to know where you are at all times. but it’s up to you what you want to think 🤷‍♀️

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

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grievedeeply · 1 year

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Hii, could you maybe write some chishiya fluff? Something like him worrying about reader in a game and reuniting afterwards or just something you come up with...thanks💞

chishiya <3 i love him sooo much and seeing the new season rekindled that love so thanks for requesting! sorry it's short though :( this is set during season 1.

gn!reader | join my taglist!! | tags: @hawkins-hs @energeticsirens @alisblackgf @fiona782

tags: mentions of death. normal alice in borderland stuff. other than that, this is just fluff. implied that chishiya has feelings for the reader.. reader may or may not feel the same. it's up for interpretation lol

an exception — chishiya shuntaro

it was nothing.

the game was simple, and it was over before you knew it. you were skilled in physical activity and lived through it with relative ease. of course, watching everyone else around you die a horrible death was nothing easy to bear witness to, but you lived through it, equipped with wit and determination.

your walk back to the beach was quiet, and it had given you plenty of time to think. you thought of chishiya.. who was something like your best friend. or.. you thought he was. he was hard to read. ridiculously hard. you could never tell how he was feeling or what he was thinking, and he never told you either. he always wore that same cheshire smile on his lips whenever he looked at you, speaking as though he knew the answer to every problem that was presented in front of him.

though, that was far from the truth.

chishiya didn't know everything. he didn't know where you were. as uncomfortable as it felt admitting it to himself; he worried about you. he took pride in not getting attached to people. it would only cause him harm in this world. people died every day. he wouldn't be there to protect everyone he cared for.

you were an exception to that rule. an exception that he didn't realize was there until it was too late to change it. you had wiggled your way into his heart with kind smiles and reassuring words.. and he didn't find himself caring as much as he thought he would. you were with him to stay, and he didn't mind it.

though, he hated how strange it felt to be worried. normally, he didn't have to feel that way. he would hardly ever worry about kuina.. but you were different from her. something was different in terms of his relationship with you and he knew it. he didn't know how he felt about that, either. normally, he knew his opinion on everything. he knew his opinion on you was a positive one. you weren't annoying or bothersome, you didn't get in his way in games.. you were just there; a presence he enjoyed.

in the back of his mind, he knew you had probably went to a game. visas ran out quickly and he heard you mention to kuina that you would need to play soon. he didn't expect it to be that soon.

you'd lived through plenty of games before. you'd be fine.

you were fine. physically, at least. as easy as some of the games came to you, it wouldn't ever get easier mentally. seeing all of those people.. even if you never knew their names.. it was something that you knew would stay with you forever. you promised yourself that you'd remember them, though, and that helped you through it all. they didn't die in vain.. and you'd keep their memory living.

you let out a sigh as you entered the beach. still wearing the same swim suit you had on before you left a few days ago. you had a few extra ones that kuina had said would look good on you. you trusted her judgement. she was probably the one person you trusted to give fashion advice, anyways. she was your best friend and you met chishiya through her. it felt like forever ago in your mind

you made your way through the hallway towards your room, a friendly smile on your face. the truth was, you didn't trust anyone around you. the beach was supposedly a safe haven, a place where everyone could trust each other. though with people like niragi and last boss in charge of some of the operations there, you had a hard time feeling safe. hatter was an okay person.. but you would never understand how he could have any faith in them.

you pushed open the door to your room with your foot, knowing full well that it would be unlocked as all rooms were at the beach. it was part of hatter's policy. so were the swimsuits. at first, you hated it. though you quickly got used to it, wearing a jacket over your shoulders made it easier for you. as long as you couldn't carry weapons.

you took off your shoes, opting to put something more suitable on. getting them wet wouldn't be any fun.. especially since you were wearing socks. you were glad you wore them, since the game you played required on speed and athleticism. you were still a bit out of breath from all of the running you did while participating.

you took in a breath, pushing the door open again to exit back out into the hallway, only to be met by chishiya's form behind your door. his arms were crossed over his chest nonchalantly, glancing over at you as soon as he saw you through his peripheral. "hey," you muttered, "what's going on?" you asked, tucking your hands in your jacket pockets.

"where were you?" he changed the topic completely, still turned to face the wall opposite your room. you furrowed your brow, "why? did you miss me?" you laughed, letting out a breath when you got no response. you knew he wouldn't reply to a question like that. "i was at a game. my visa would've ran out tomorrow." you shrugged your shoulders, "didn't think i had to tell you where i was going."

technically, you were right. he didn't want to admit he was worried about you, not feeling up to being emotionally vulnerable with you. it wasn't as if he didn't care. you knew that, but he had a strange way of showing it. "just wondering." he said, finally turning his head to look at you. you met his eyes with pursed lips, and you shook your head, laughing slightly at his words.

you liked him. you wouldn't deny that. you liked his intelligence, his ability to read people as though they were open books. he was good at manipulating those he needed information from, and you were glad he didn't have the same guilty conscience you had for reasons like that. a part of you believed he was just wondering where you were.. but you wanted to believe he cared enough about you to worry.

knowing him, he could just be using you like he had done with other people. you could only hope he wasn't.

he wouldn't ever dream of using you. he wanted you safe and he would be lying if he said he didn't let out a sigh of relief when you came through the doors of the beach like you had done so many times before. he knew you were fully capable.. but he cared. he cared a lot more than he wanted to admit.

you were one of the only people he had ever found himself enjoying the company of. you never pushed him. you didn't insult him like some of the militants seemed to enjoy doing. you thought of him as you did anyone else. a human. he enjoyed that respect, and he respected you in turn. through it, he managed to learn to care for you.

"you want me to tell you next time?" your voice broke the silence. you stared at him, eyebrows raised. your eyes were soft. you were being completely genuine, not judging him for not explicitly saying how he felt. he nodded, not breaking your gaze. "okay." you hummed in response, taking his shoulders in your hands with a warm smile.

"sorry i worried you, chishiya." you chuckled, your grin turning playful. he rolled his eyes, shaking his shoulders out of your grip.

he liked your ability to calm down any situation. your ability to ease his nerves.

"i'll tell you next time. maybe you can come with me." you proposed with a shrug of your shoulders. "maybe." he said back, letting out a sigh.

just from the look in your eyes, he could tell you were being genuine with him. he was always good at reading you.

#alice in borderland x you #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland x reader headcanons #alice in borderland #aib x you #aib x reader #aib #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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joking-suggestions · 8 months

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Albedo A-Z Fluff Alphabet

prompt list by @/imagineimagineimagine

!!! : gn reader. might be present grammar mistakes. i apologise, since english is not my first language.

I just love this man too much, I have to create my own headcanons because consuming his media online is not enough-

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about their partner? Physically and Mentally)

I think that Albedo is not a person who pays much attention to physical appearance, for him it would be something that would be secondary and would only get added value if he was already taken with someone, as we've already seen in the game (in fact, he tells us more than once that he likes intelligent people). Albedo values mentality, so he'd be particularly attracted to someone who's open-minded, smart, even better if they can play along with his mindset, and whom he can have complex and profound conversations with, someone who can offer him new points of view, inspire and stimulate him, not only in his work, but also in his daily life. Intelligence is what really attracts him, physical appearance comes after. For him beauty is all a matter of attitude.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

I don't think Albedo ever thought about starting his own family before he had a romantic partner, he's just too busy with his job that he wouldn't have the time to dedicate to it properly. and Albedo already has Klee, who's like a little sister to him, therefore a family to dedicate his attention and care to since she's a young child. however, after finding a partner, i don't deny that the thought of starting something of his own with them would cross his mind at least once, but it would just be a sterile thought, imagining a concept that is impossible. Because of his non-human nature, Albedo is unable to procreate. He is aware that it's not his fault, because he knows that it wasn't him who decided how to give birth, but sometimes he can't help but feel a little guilty, especially in the case his s/o particularly wanted to have a child. if his partner doesn't want children, so much the better (after all, he'd be the first to know that there's no traditional way to have a family... if we look closely at his family tree, lol). He just wishes to have the person he loves by his side to be happy, and Klee, of course. After all, being a family means being good together and being able to rely on each other without anyone being left behind, regardless of blood ties, right?

C = Cuddle (How do they like to cuddle?)

for him, cuddling with his s/o would be a way to regenerate and relax after a long, stressful day. it'd be a sweet moment, a little blurred by sleep and tiredness, but very deep and intimate. some evenings he might seem more sensual than others (and so getting carried even further than that). albedo likes to rest his head on his partner's shoulder or chest, as if seeking comfort or protection from them. he would give gentle kisses wherever his lips could land, play with his partner's hair, lose himself in the scent of their skin and clothes, often collapsing in their arms (he looks so adorable istg).

D = Dreams (How do they picture their future with their S/O?)

whatever his partner desires, so does him. First and foremost, Albedo wants to make the other person happy, to be able to live carefree and at peace by their side, to discover new things together, to explore the world together, to experience new adventures by each other's side.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

For Albedo, his partner would be his muse, his source of inspiration, his safe haven, his home, his certainty, what makes reality more beautiful to face.

F = Feelings (When did they know they're in love?)

Albedo noticed almost immediately that he felt different in the presence of this particular person. how shall i put it? he didn't feel the same as usual. he wouldn't even know how to properly explain the strange sensations running through his body, from butterflies in his stomach to his pounding heart. there is something - some kind of force majeure - that draws him to them. he feels the need to be in their company even when they are not present, as they take up most of his time and often distract him from his work. this seemed strange to him already, but other people from the outside also started pointing out that lately, the chief alchemist seemed head over heels in love. when kaeya started teasing him about whether he had fallen in love or not... it was like an epiphany for albedo, like he had discovered something he might have known all along. not only that, but Klee herself asked him if he had feelings for (name), leaving him completely stunned and unable to deny it any longer. at this point, albedo could no longer lie to himself, having searched within himself for as many answers as possible. what seemed impossible to him was actually the irrefutable truth. Love. it had always been there, maybe he really had always known it, but he didn't know if it was right to admit it to himself first, despite his incessant curiosity to explore this new and nameless feeling that did so much good to his heart.

G = Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their S/O does for them?)

of course Albedo is a very grateful person. both to life for putting this person trough his path, and for all the things they do for him; from taking care of him, to listening to him when he ramble on for hours about incomprehensible subjects, to understanding and accepting him for who he is. albedo didn't even believe it was possible that such a person could exist in this world and still love him. of course, he tries his best to show that gratitude because he knows it wouldn't be fair otherwise.

H = Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)

Albedo is a person full of secrets and we know that very well. however, when he starts to trust someone, he tends to open up more. of course, it is not easy to gain his trust. Albedo is a very selective and in order to open up completely to someone, he has to feel that this person is different from the others. obviously in a relationship he'd feel that it would be only right to let the other person know basic things about himself, because a relationship must be built on mutual trust and honesty, it wouldn't be fair to hide anything from his partner. then slowly (probably already in the friendship stages) albedo would start to open up and reveal more aspects of himself, probably even the darker ones, but only when he's sure that he won't be rejected and that he can trust his other half completely.

I = Injury (How would they react if you got hurt?)

outwardly, albedo would appear calm, placid and logical as usual, but actually, he would be trying to maintain a rational composure in order to react in the best possible way and help his beloved. in reality, inside albedo would be panicking, frozen with the total terror of losing the love of his life. thoughts of all kinds would be running through his mind. luckily, Albedo is good at regulating his emotions and would try to channel them into action in order to defend his beloved from danger and then to help them with love and whatever else they may need. although he would seem to be handling the situation in the best possible way, you would still notice the anxiety through his worried look and the trembling in his voice and hands, at least until he would be completely sure that the danger is gone.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? How do they deal with it)

albedo is not a person who is prone to jealousy, but if he was, he wouldn't let it show. for example, if his partner were particularly affectionate with someone, i couldn't deny that he'd sometimes feel a gnawing feeling in his stomach. he wouldn't be able to explain it at first, but the thought of being abandoned, or of his favourite person choosing someone else over him, would embitter him. of course, Albedo would still try to maintain his typical rationality, but sometimes you can tell from some of his cold looks and answers that he is actually jealous. however, he would do his best to keep it to himself, and only if the situation became unbearable he'd talk about it. this is because he'd not want to worry his beloved, he has great faith in them and their love.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss you? How do they like to be kissed?)

Albedo's kisses can have different shades: sometimes they are sweet, full of love, the kind that seems pure and can only be found in fairy tales, the ones that express affection and last only a few moments, but still leave you with a sweet warm sensation in your heart. other times (very often, especially when you are alone) they are the slightly sensual kisses that make you feel wanted, that express hunger, love, a slight possessiveness. albedo loves to be kissed on the lips, especially when these kisses make him feel wanted, even if it's just a simple greeting. other kisses he loves to give and receive are those on the neck. if you kiss that diamond mark on his neck? he will be yours forever.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

i think that would depend very much on what kind of person Albedo would find as a partner. before saying something like that, Albedo would want to have some confidence. not that this phrase has no value to him, on the contrary, but he would want to be sure that this phrase is clear and unequivocal. in any case, i think Albedo could very likely be the first to confess.

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

for albedo, there would be many beautiful moments to remember, many firsts, many new beginnings; their first meeting, the first time his partner bonded with klee, their first fight during an adventure, their first kiss. for albedo, they would all be things to treasure in his heart, all moments of shared happiness that he would never forget.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

albedo is not a stingy person, but at the same time he is not materialistic. ergo, for him, gifts would not be just material things, like expensive, worthless things bought in some fancy shop just because they are "trendy". of course, he would have no problem giving his s/o gifts, buying them something he saw them looking at so longingly. but for him, the gifts of real value are the moments they spend together, the things he can make with his own hands, because he is an alchemist and an artist. so what he is able to create can not be compared to anything that can be bought with money. if his loved one wants a new dress, Albedo would be able to design and craft it for them. he would draw them a lot and dedicate many of his inventions to them. in this respect, he would certainly shower them with gifts. gifts whose value can not even be determined, so deep is the love that goes into them.

O = On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they're in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

i think it is quite obvious when Albedo is in love. first of all, he seems more distracted than usual (this particular person takes up a lot more space in his mind) and for Sucrose and Timeous it would be obvious that something with their master is off, especially because in the presence of this person he'd become much more attentive, he'd talk and smile a lot more. it would be a fact that would not go unnoticed by others. a person who is normally as composed and deeply devoted to his work as albedo suddenly seems to be shaken by something new. then it is really true that love makes people blind! Lisa would like to discuss this matter with Jean and point out to her that, contrary to the grand master's expectations, the boy is not actually ill, but just in love. for Albedo, on the other hand, everything would seem normal, but in reality the people closest to him would be very aware of the novelty - hell, even Klee managed to notice that there was something unusual about her brother! especially because when that person is in the albedo zone, he will look for any excuse to be in their presence, to talk to them, to discuss alchemy with them, to show them his latest drawings or his newest experiments. these are subtle things, but to a loner like albedo, they mean a lot. it means that he feels comfortable in the presence of that person.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

i imagine albedo would use things like "love", "darling" and "honey" a lot. The more corny ones like "sweetheart", "my Cecilia", "my queen/princess or prince/king" would be saved for rarer, special, particularly emotional occasions.

Q = Questions (What are the questions they’re always asking?)

albedo is a person who asks a lot of questions. sometimes he just wants to know his s/o's opinion about something, sometimes he asks deep questions, but most of all he asks a lot of strange things. things that frighten you and make you wonder how the hell they got into his head. after all, what do you expect to find in the head of a genius?

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

usually, when albedo has to work, not even the rain can stop him. however, if he could, he would much rather to stay at home to avoid colds (at least for his partner, considering that he rarely gets sick). it would be an excuse to be together, cuddle under the blankets and watch the rain, and only when the storm has passed they can go out and explore the fruits of the earth's rebirth.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/S/O up?

albedo, contrary to what many people expect, is good at understanding human emotions, even if he is still learning how to manage them. he doesn't usually feel sad very often, unless he is reminded of his master. but he is good at chasing away his sadness by distracting himself with other things, like work and the people who love him. then again, having managed a child for so long, he knows the secrets of cheering people up all the more....although maybe it works differently for adults. in any case, he would have his own strange little ways of offering support to his beloved, offering them ways to talk and let off steam, and then doing all their favourite activities together. albedo would be close to them, affectionate, and he'd even cook them something good to cheer them up. albedo is actually a very caring and supportive boyfriend.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Albedo loves to talk about his experiments, he'd go on for hours about them, and the fact that his partner would be willing to listen to him would only make him fall even more in love. he loves talking a lot about klee too. albedo is the kind of person who is open to everything, with him you could talk about deep, somewhat philosophical things, exploring the meaning of life, of the universe, gradually moving into strange, indefinable, absurd and sometimes even abstract things. he'd be willing to talk about scientific things, sometimes diving into detailed and nerdy explanations about the mechanics of the world. then I like to think there would also be that good dose of gossip because it never hurts. what did kaeya do today to upset albedo, for example? but let's face it, he'd love to talk to his s/o about anything.

U = Understanding (How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

i repeat, albedo is actually a very empathetic and emotionally intelligent person, otherwise he wouldn't be able to deal with children so well. i have no idea why the genshin fandom sees him as an emotionless robot. of course he would get to know his partner inside out and take note of their every trait and mannerism, he'd try to understand them deeply in order to understand and help them. he's the kind of guy who doesn't make you feel lonely, who will stand by you and help you, but who will also give you practical advice on how to deal with a problem and offer his help where it's needed.

V = Value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

albedo tends to give the right amount of space to everything in his life: work, family, but also his relationship. especially after finding the love of his life he would try to learn to be more balanced with work as well, to give the right amount of space to the people he loves. each of these things has an important place in his life, but he could not deny that his family and his relationship are probably the two most important values to him.

W = Wedding (When, where, and how do they propose?)

to be honest, albedo would think about it for a while, he would not find marriage absolutely necessary at first, he would be happy just to live together without giving in to social pressure. but once he is convinced, he would certainly make a very deep and emotional proposal. It would happen during a moment of vulnerability, of loneliness between him and his beloved, while they are out walking or having a good time together. he'd have to feel that it is the right moment, that it's the time. i won't even hide the fact that he would feel a little nervous before getting down on one knee. wait, does everything have to be done in the traditional way? at the fateful moment, he would whisper those words, almost as if they were powerful magic. the moment would be intimate and magical in its simplicity. he probably wouldn't propose right away, he would rather wait a few years after starting the relationship, but when he will be sure, he wouldn't back down. the ceremony probably wouldn't even be that big and ostentatious. if anything, something nice and simple where only the closest people could attend, but still romantic and beautiful. a memorable day for everyone. even the chief alchemist got married, crazy, right?

X = XOXO (How affectionate are they? In public/in private)

albedo would find it difficult to let go at first, as everything in a relationship is new to him. How exactly is he supposed to behave? but once he is comfortable, he would certainly become very affectionate. certainly very touch starved, as he has never received enough affection and care in his life. this is especially true in private. outdoor, he'd be more reserved and his displays of affection would be more subtle unless his partner isn't bold enough to be affectionate in public. This would probably make albedo a little uncomfortable at a first (it would also depend on how and how much his s/o is affectionate), but over time he would begin to appreciate and reciprocate, albeit very slowly. you will need to be patient with him.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when they're separated from their S/O?)

mainly by keeping busy with work, which helps him distract himself just enough. but in the moments when even that is not enough he dedicates himself to painting his beloved, at least to remember their face and recall the memories they shared by imprinting them on canvas.

Z = Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?)

albedo is a very busy man, so it would depend on the reason behind this distance. but of course he would be willing to do anything for reasons of force majeure. he'd do everything in his power to ensure that this relationship will last.

#k's tag #albedo #albedo imagines #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo kreideprinz #albedo headcanon #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin albedo #✨️#genshin impact x you #albedo headcanons #albedo kreideprinz fluff #albedo fluff #albedo kreideprinz x reader

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katzkinder · 17 days

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Kitty mentioned that Hokaze’s name was not only strange for a woman, but also that it was hard to find a connection with her name and the theme the rest of the Alicein have. Now I’m no expert at Japanese names (much less Japanese itself) but I had fun digging to see what I could find, and I found quite a lot! So let’s get to it :D

Interpreted to the best of my ability, Misono’s mom has a name which roughly means “one who is quick to overcome ups and downs”

Which is why she was drawn holding Jane Eyre when she and Lily met

She’s an inversion of Jane’s story, just like the Alicein brothers are an inversion of Cain and Abel

For anyone who’s never read Jane Eyre, a quick and dirty plot summary of the relevant parts is that Jane, an orphan girl, eventually ends up in the employ of a rich man who she falls in love with, however he is married and because of that, she refuses to continue their relationship. The man of the house reveals that the reason he didn’t tell her this is because his wife was insane, and she screams and barks and growls and runs around like an animal. Eventually the woman in her insanity burns down the manor, but her husband escapes and, now a widow, it would no longer weigh on Jane’s conscience to marry him. The books ends with Jane writing about how they’re expecting their first child together. The book’s themes of morality and class differences are echoed, to the result of tragedy, in the story of the Alicein

Hokaze doesn’t manage to overcome her status of being born a penniless orphan by marrying a rich man and joining the upper classes. Instead she is murdered by his wife who has been driven mad with jealousy. Her story is one of an idealistic dream, executed in a self serving manner, confronted with reality that cost her her life

Also, the 歩 part of hokaze’s name can also be read as “fu,” a pawn in shogi :))

Mikado is the emperor, kiriko is the princess, and Mikuni the kingdom they made together

Hokaze wanted to be queen but was merely a pawn, and ultimately playing a very different “game” than the royalty around her

It’s also notable that the one who put her down that path is Lily, who shares a name with the white pawn Alice takes the place of during the chess game in Through The Looking Glass.

Her scheme also gives the name she gave Misono a very different light.

She gave him a character from Mikado’s name, “proof” of his infidelity, and the one for garden, because he is the “fruit” of her labors, the beautiful rose of the future queen of Wonderland

The extreme irony here is that Mikuni is much more like Hokaze in his actions, while Misono closely resembles Kiriko’s loyalty and ability to forgive others (at the cost of himself)

Also, Mikuni is going to hate this, but

His desire to protect misono from the harsh truths of the world, even going so far as to burn down part of his own home, is… Very, very Mikado. It’s fine if he cheats, manipulates, and even hurts Misono, so long as the result is Misono continues to be able to live with such a simple and idealistic view of love and life

They look like their mothers, inherited behavior patterns from each other’s, and also share quite a lot with their father

It’s a very beautiful way of weaving them together as a family, and also Strike’s use of word play to set Hokaze apart from the Alicein cast while also giving her name something to tie her to the theme is extremely clever. Boy is it mean though xD

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you guys think :)

#servamp #kat’s katerwauling #Hokaze Tatsunami #Kiriko Alicein #Mikuni Alicein #Misono Alicein #snow lily

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sillybucket · 10 months

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“They won’t look at me” { Jonathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

I just love writing for this character , so I decided to make another little story featuring the Spot :D

As always I apologize for possible ooc moments , and if someone already wrote about something similar know that it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : there is some angst in this one … basically , Johnathan and the reader have a talk with his parents some time after his transformation , and unfortunately it doesn’t go well for the poor guy ;(

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

The room was alarmingly quiet , the sound of the clock on the wall and the traffic outside were the only things that interrupted the silence as the four people in the kitchen sat in front of each other …

The tension was palpable , Jonathan could feel the judgmental , baffled looks his parents occasionally gave him , and when (y/n) held his hand to comfort him he looked back at them with genuine gratitude before taking a deep breath .

“So uh … mom , dad , how have you been doing ?”

, he timidly asked , desperate to end that suffocating silence in some way .

“Business has been going well . My technological inventions are on high demand , so that’s something .”

Jonathan’s father averted his eyes from his son while answering his question , almost like he just couldn’t handle to look at his face …

“If that’s all you wanted to know you might as well leave now , we’re both busy and really don’t have any time to lose .”

Jonathan let out a sigh , trying to get his thoughts in order while (y/n) stared at his dad in disbelief :

he couldn’t be serious … sure , Lucas Ohnn was a very important scientist with a reputation to protect , but treating a member of his own family in such a cold , distant way simply because he looked different was simply unacceptable .

“I … just wanted to pass by to see if you were okay , and to let you know that you don’t have to worry about me : it hasn’t been easy , but I’ve been doing my best to rebuild my life after … after all that’s happened . Also I wanted to introduce you to my partn -“

“Mhm , that’s great Johnny … are you sure nobody saw you enter our house ?”

, Miss Ohnn asked , without even looking up from her phone .

“You’re right , Carol . What will the neighbors think if they see … that … inside our property ? They might start to think that we’re giving shelter to some strange creature , and that would be inconvenient …”

After hearing those words (y/n) stood up , unable to listen any further …

“Strange creature ? Are you serious ? That’s your son , Mister Ohnn ! You used to talk to him just a few months ago , you said you were proud of him for all his hard work at Alchemax and now you have the audacity to say something like that ? Right in front of him ?”

Everyone in the room now had their eyes pointed at them as they continued talking .

“This the same Jonathan you used to know , and just because his appearance changed you can’t just treat him like th -“

“(Y/n) , it’s okay …”

Jonathan had gotten up as well , gently putting his hand on their shoulder .

“Let’s just go .”

The two of them slowly headed towards the door , and before leaving he turned back to look at his parents one last time …

“Bye mom , bye dad … don’t worry , you won’t see me again .”

The late afternoon sun was starting to set as the two of them walked hand in hand back to (y/n)’s apartment .

“I’m sorry , I shouldn’t have reacted like that … it’s just - what your dad said … I couldn’t tolerate the way he was talking to you .”

Jonathan smiled softly to himself , squeezing their hand a little .

“There’s nothing to apologize for , honey … you’re always looking out for me , and I love you so much for that .

They were probably going to make us leave soon anyway .”

He then let out a sigh , his voice trembling slightly as he tried to go on …

“… I knew that this would end this way , that my parents weren’t going to accept that this is who I am now … but it just kinda hurt , y’know ?

They’re the only family I have left and they couldn’t even look at me for more than a few seconds .

I really do mean nothing to them …”

(Y/n) quietly listened to him , and when they finally stopped after reaching the apartment’s door they wrapped their arms around him , holding him in a loving hug .

“Well … you mean everything to me , Johnny . No matter what your parents think you’re definitely still someone worth loving , and believe me when I say that my life wouldn’t be the same without you in it .”

They looked up at him , gently caressing his cheek .

Jonathan wanted to say so many things in that moment … how much he appreciated them , how happy he was to have them in his life …

His arms surrounded their waist while he placed his forehead against theirs .

“God , I really don’t know what I’d do without you (y/n) …”

, he whispered , genuine adoration in his voice as he got lost into his partner’s beautiful eyes .

The two of them stood there for a few minutes , enjoying each other’s comforting warmth until finally (y/n) took out their house keys from their pocket and opened the door :

after such a stressful afternoon , all that Jonathan and (y/n) wanted to do was just lie down somewhere comfortable and rest in each other’s arms , forgetting about all their worries .

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little story until the end ! :D

Feel free to leave some feedback if you want to :) ❤️

#across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #atsv x you #atsv the spot #atsv x reader #the spot x reader #atsv #the spot #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader

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romanarose · 8 months

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Kiss It Better

Joel Miller x gn!pregnant!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summery: You catch Joel staring the scar on this forehead.

Warnings: Mention of suicide attempt and child death

short lil dabble from last minute inspo

*****************

Life was good these days. Tommy said he hadn't seen Joel this happy in 20 years; you had a good life together. You and Joel were happy together, you were parental figures to Ellie and now had a little one on the way. As a family, you frequently spent time with Tommy and Maria and their two kids; Tommy was a fun uncle, to be sure, always showing Ellie the new guns and gadgets he got or made. In fact, all of you were on your way over to their house for dinner now. Yeah, everything was good, you and Joel were happy.

Joel was in the bathroom washing hands before you head out, and you wabble over to the bathroom to ask him for a hand down the stairs. At 8 months, you were a little off balance and didn't want to risk a fall.

"Hey sweetie, can you-"

He tries to hide it but you saw him, leaned into the mirror and poking at his scar on his forehead.

"Oh, hey darl'n, you ready to head down?" Joel tried to act as if it hadn't happened.

"What were you doing, baby?"

Joel sighed, realizing he'd been caught. "Noth'n I was just... hope'n it'd faded way by now."

You feel your shoulders droop as your head leans over. "Sweetheart... It's been 20 years, don't think it's going to fade away any more."

"I know." He wouldn't look at you as he began cleaning up his beard trimmings.

Carefully, you approach him. “What are you worried about, Joel?"

He signs, fidgeting with the faucet. "The baby. I just don't know how I'm gonna explain something like that. Don't want 'em think'n I'm weak or can't protect them because of it."

No wonder he'd be acting strange. You take his hand and guide him to your bed so you can sit him down. Still holding his hand, you catch his sad eyes. "You got nothing to be ashamed of. You lost your daughter, baby. That's enough to make anyone want to end it, with or without the world ending around you. But you survived it, and you survived the next twenty year. You pulled together for your brother, for Ellie, for me-" You place his hand over your large stomach. "And you'll do it for the baby. Know why? Because you are a protector at heart. You are a protector, a provider, a good man, and the love of my life."

Joel nodded, but looked unconvinced. "With Ellie it was... different. She needed to hear it, to hear the real story... after everything she'd been through, you know? I just don't know how to talk about that sort of thing."

"You don't have to." You assure him. "We can just say someone shot and missed, I can talk to them if you'd like. It's your story to tell. We can only hope that baby never knows the loss that you, me and Ellie have... but we still live in this world gone mad. Whatever happens, they'll know how strong their parents are. They'll know they have a sister, and one in heaven. A sister their dad and uncle loved so dearly they did everything in their power to save her. They'll know how much their dad and uncle loved each other and how for years they were all they had. They'll know about Tess, Frank, Bill, Reilly, and everyone who made up a family when everything had fallen apart. And they'll know, more than anything," You bring his hardened, calloused hands up to your lips for a kiss, locking in with Joel's watery eyes. "That their family loves them, and will do everything to keep them safe and happy."

Joel closed his eyes tightly, attempted to hide back tears but one escaped. "Thank you baby, that means a lot." He wipes back the wetness with his flannel and stands, aiding you in rising. Joel doesn't let go, arms wrapped around you, and you kiss his temple right where his scar is.

"I love you, Joel Miller. Every part of you."

The moment was broken by Ellie yelling up the stairs that you two are taking too long and she was walking over to Tommy's. He was fixing up an old motorcycle and she wanted to learn.

You smile and laugh as the door opens and shuts, Joel carefully aiding you down the stairs.

Joel Miller loved you, he loved his brother, his sister in law, his daughter, his niece and nephew and he loved that little life growing inside you, and you knew he'd do whatever it took to protect the life he had now, including taking care of himself.

*****************

I don't write a whole lot of Joel here I know, but I do have some of him on my masterlist here, but if you like how I write Joel and you like dark fics, yo may like @romana-after-dark bc I got quite a bit of dark!Joel there, including a new Handmaid's Tale AU!

@fandxmslxt69 @k-ra @whatthefishh @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul @runa-falls @stevenandmarcslove @scarletthefierce @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #fem reader #tlou hbo #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo

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dpxdcdisneyau · 10 months

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Disney Week Is Coming Up!!!

Disney Week is coming up in just a few weeks!

That being said, I thought it could be fun to share some prompts for anyone struggling to come up with ideas but want to participate nonetheless! These are not required, if you have a different idea go for it! These are just some fun prompts to share for anyone struggling to think of something for each day.

Some fun prompts to explore:

Day 1: Resurrection/Death

Coco AU: Tim gets in an argument with the bats that results in him getting thrown into the Infinite Realms. Now he has to find his way back to the world of the living before time runs out and he becomes a ghost forever.

Snow White AU: Danny runs away from Amity after his parents try to destroy him and finds himself adopted by the Wayne Family. Now it's Danny Fenton and the 7 Waynes (Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, Cass, Damian) the Fentons find him and manage to break Danny's core. Now the Waynes need to find out a way to bring their beloved Danny back to life.

Big Hero 6 AU: Jazz is murdered and Danny thinks it's his fault, he joins a hero team to find out who killed his sister and why. The hero team he joins? up to you.

Day 2: Monster/Damsel in Distress

A bat is the victim of a cult ritual but it backfires and turns the batkid into a frog. A ghost finds the frog and is like oh only a kiss from a royal can turn you back! Good thing I know the royal family in the Infinite Realms!

Sleeping Beauty Au where Danny has been put under a curse and his ghosts start kidnapping people far and wide to wake him up. A member of the batfam wakes him up with a kiss

The pit demon inside of Jason wells up and turns him into an uncontrollable monster, now the Bats are fighting against time to find someone to fix Jason and bring him back to normal. (loosely based off of Turning Red and the Red Panda being out of control)

Day 3: Ohana/Loss

Lilo and Stitch AU: Jason Todd passed away and Dick finds himself struggling to move on. One night he sees a shooting star and prays for an angel to become his friend. What he gets instead is a wounded, angry Danny Fenton who is running away from the GIW/Fentons/Infinite Realms whatever you choose.

Strange World AU: In an effort to save the world, Bruce, Dick, and Tim find themselves going into the Infinite Realms to find something to help. What they find instead is halfa Jason Todd who decided he didn't want to go back home after dying.

Encanto AU(kinda): Duke discovers one day that the Wayne Manor is actually sentient and the entire home is being possessed by a ghost named Danny who has been spending the last ten years protecting the Wayne Family from harm. He befriends the house because he's the only one who can actually see Danny.

Frozen AU: Danny and Damian are brothers who were separated from one another. Danny has ice powers and accidentally hurt someone and ran away from home because of it. Damian goes looking for his brother to bring him back.

Day 4: Power of Love/Revenge Curse

in a fight against Klarion, a spell is cast on a member of Young Justice that puts them under a sleeping spell, the only way to save them is to find King Phantom of the Infinite Realms and see if he can break the curse.

howl's moving castle au where a member of the Batfamily angered a ghost and was aged to that of an eldery person. In an effort to find a way to fix it, the bat goes searching for someone to help them and meet Phantom, a powerful ghost from the Infinite Realms who is trying to avoid being crowned as King of the Infinite Realms.

Ella Enchanted AU where Danny has been cursed to be obedient by Vlad. He goes on a journey to find a way to break the curse put upon him and in doing so meets Jason Todd who has just recently died and is trying to find his way back to his family and the two work together to find a way to fix what has been done to them.

Day 5: Childhood/Adulthood

Damian learns one day that he has a twin who lives in a completely different world than him and makes the journey to the Infinite Realms to meet the twin he never knew he had. (Based off of Tinker Bell: Secret of the Wings)

The Ghost King is forced to hold a ball to find a consort.the batkid who dances with him leaves a birdarang or batarang behind and now it's like finding a needle in a haystack ("have you seen how many there are out there? one's a starfish!")

Mary Poppins AU: Danny is Mary Poppins and becomes a nanny for the Wayne Kids (maybe a no vigilante AU?)

Again, these are not required, these are just ideas for anyone who's wanting to write or draw something but can't think of what they want to do! Just some ideas to point people into a direction.

I hope they help and I can't wait to see you all participating in Disney Week!!

-- Dis

#dpxdcdisneyau2023 #dpxdc #dpxdc prompt ideas

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dangermousie · 11 months

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Farscape rewatch 2x04: Crackers Don’t Matter

One of my favorite eps and the most quoted one in the Mousie household.

You know what I am struck by, this time? How crazily Farscape works. I am faced with the next to last scenes of this ep: John with green face-make-up, shiny cover, attacking a bug-looking alien with a sword as it gibbers, screaming 'humans are superior' and marvelling at the fact that somehow, it all works. How crazy is it? It works, works brilliantly. Farscape took some odd risks, some strange choices, but IMO, they almost always worked out.

And the way the humor (and this episode is bona fide hilarious) can coexist with cruelty and darkness because the ways the Moyans turn on each other is just vicious and what makes it horrible is that it’s their darkest ids, worst selves exposed - so it is them, even if the worst version of them.

And they have to live with it, with all the stuff they said and did, no easy solutions...

This is long and cap-heavy so behind read more...

I am also struck by how tight the writing is. It's obviously an organic show: it didn't have every plot detail worked out years in advance. But when things come up, they get so incorporated for later, they get brought up again, it all just fits. Just think of the little throw-away comment by Maldis in S1 that John lost his virginity to Karen Shaw, and how it comes to play in Kansas in S4. Why am I thinking of this for this ep? It's the fact that here is Harvey (his very first appearance), telling John that revenge is a dish best served cold, his whole attitude, his whole statement is so in line with the whole late S3 ep 'Revenging Angel' which echoes it so well. In RA Harvey fails to understand what makes John tick, what makes him stay alive: he is limited by his creator Scorpius. He fails to realize that what keeps John alive is hope and that for John, Aeryn is hope. (That is why chip!John in Scorpy's head in Incubator is so intractable, so final: he is post-loss-of-Aeryn, he really has nothing). What Scorpy fails in (and by extension Harvey) is to understand John on a very basic level: they don't really fit, like two odd pieces of a puzzle. Grayza of course makes the same mistake on Arnessk. It's going to sound corny, but Scorpy fails to understand goodness (not surprising considering his upbringing) while John has one-up on his opponent because he understands evil, because his face has been rubbed into it until it's raw.

I kept thinking, why is John the least affected by Traltixx in this ep? I am sure the eyesight has something to do with it (I love how Farscape turns on its head the old trope of humans being saviors because they are better. Crichton is 'better' because he is handicapped, because he doesn't see so well). But I think there are other issues here: for one thing, Crichton is a researcher, someone who must be analytical by nature. More importantly, he is attuned to oddness not just because of his post-Scorpy paranoia but because he is a stranger in a strange land, sensitized. And the thing is, just as with the chip later - knowing something is off is different from being able to put breaks on it. He periodically, alone among the rest of them, realizes something is wrong with his behavior but he is unable to truly stop it - the ugliness and the violence just come pouring out; the only concession to control is that he doesn’t kill anyone. The crew is horrifically ugly to each other in this one, but the ep is also mind-blowingly hilarious. Not like Out of their Minds, which is just plain funny. This one is funny with a hell of a sting. Some pretty bad things are said. I am struck not even as much by the Aeryn-John showdown (they know each other the best, so they really know where to hurt. Though I am still wondering how you can be both frigid and a skank :)) but I think it's because Aeryn and John cause each other such universes of pain, exactly when they are not trying to, but only trying to protect themselves or even do what is best for the other, that this is small fry. What is a little exchange of gunfire and a hit at Aeryn's being a traitor or John not measuring up to his father in comparison with Die Me Dichotomy or the coin toss or so much of late S3 or S4? Still, ouch ouch ouch.

What I am really struck by are other interactions: D'Argo with Rygel, flopping the little guy around like...well, a puppet, force-feeding him crackers. It's ugly. We haven't seen D'Argo attack a helpless being since DNA Mad Scientist, and we've forgotten, and it hurts. Though it does show a difference: here it's Traltixx doing an equivalent of drugging him. The inner savage is much further from the surface. The crew from early S1 would have succumbed to Traltixx in ten minutes flat.

And keeping with the fact that actions always have consequences, there is no magic forgiveness at the end (though also like Farscape, there is hope of one later.)

And Crichton with Chiana. It's an unnerving scene, horrible to watch, precisely because normally John is so protective of her, because for Chiana, John is in many ways her safe harbor, her surrogate big brother, someone who she would always feel safe in the area of sex with (i.e. he won't, with her). But he turns that protection on its head, something ugly (though luckily, a bunch of the horrible stuff comes from Harvey, not John, so she doesn't hear it).

Yikes.

Pretty telling tho that even messed with by Traltixx, any sexual threat is not from John but is suggestion of the chip, which is doing whatever to get Crichton to kill his shipmates so he’d be easier to capture. John himself is horrifyingly cruel but does not see Chiana this way at all.

The idea he ends up liking is tying her up next to the rest of them so he could try to talk without everyone shooting each other, not anything else and thank GOD.

This is such a reversal of his attitude in Taking the Stone so I think it's interesting that the attitudes in here and TtS are juxtaposed (in TtS Crichton is losing it a bit, slowly, but it makes him more protective, not less. That is the natural 'insane' Crichton, not the one where someone took over and brought out the darkest id; when he is himself, however utterly mad and irrational, he is never wantonly cruel to his loved ones.) And then of course, later, when he is back to sanity and tries to apologize, she blows it off, acts impressed. Chiana is queen of repression in some ways, however open she is in others.

You know, there is another reason why Crichton was the one to pull it together. (And no, I am not just referring to stubborness). He already has that edge of insanity to him and it's growing slowly larger. So has he figured out how to cope under weirdness while maintaining some control? He's had to persevere through some horrid stuff and had his head messed up with, so he can temporarily put aside distractions. But the thing is - this is only the start of Scorpius messing with his head. He can fight it on the margins for now (Harvey the Chip clearly wants him to kill everyone so he can be captured easier) but he can fight it even under the stress but we all know how it ends...

Oh yes!

He tries to tell Aeryn about seeing Scorpius but she’s also affected by the light and pays no attention and even John himself assumes it was some of the stuff Traltixx did (and I believe when they first had Scorpy show it was supposed to be a one off, not a chip) and oh boy, the misery that is going to eventually follow.

(the little correction she makes, heeeee...)

Oh boy, and eventually he will make you do that and this will be one of the worst moments of your life.

The thing is - having your mind hijacked is horrible but long before that happens to any significant degree, the layers of horror of it all are there because it’s not just John thinking he’s losing his mind and having his mind sorted through and controlled; it’s the fact that he now lives with the constant presence of his chief torturer in his head - it’s a somewhat literal metaphor for aftereffects of torture yes but also there is the sheer body horror of it which is incredible.

Yikes...

Side note - the ugliness with John and D’Argo bothers me least because they are evenly matched but also it’s pure physical violence, no emotional cruelty involved.

Also, cool bit of foreshadowing, Chiana aligning with D'Argo here but also, the way Aeryn and John still want to jump each other in this little scene tho they were shooting at each other and have not too much rationality. Heh.

God, those two must have some truly spectacular sex once they finally get to it.

Oh, and the sheer unhinged anything goes vibe of this is so perfect. I don’t know how they manage.

And of course Zhaan just spending the whole episode orgasming and show making no bones about it - I love how just genuinely out there the show was.

Just wild...

Crichton barreling through insanity to save the day but everyone emerging a little or a lot worse for wear is a lot of the modus operandi of this show and this episode really distills it down so concisely in the most gloriously insane way.

#farscape

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avrelia · 8 months

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I haven’t read the books, so all I can go on is the tv series, but I see the breakup between Moiraine and Suian as tragic but utterly believable.

They are awesome. They are both very smart, very loyal, and very loving women, and yet. This is the case when virtues turn into the tragic flaws.

For twenty years they shared a burden of a dangerous secret. A future that could destroy the world or make it all better. And while their shares were equal, they were different. Moiraine was traveling, looking for the Dragon Reborn, Suian was staying in the White Tower, being the Amyrlin seat, immersed in all the politics it provided. Both put their plans, dreams, desires on indefinite hold, for the sake of the big picture. The only thing that provided relief was their loyalty to the cause and each other and their trust in each other.

And then when the prize was in their sight, things went wrong. Moiraine found the Dragon Reborn, but instead of defeating the Dark One, they had woken up the Forsaken and Moiraine lost her powers and lost track of Rand – whom she was supposed to train and guard from the Dark One.

And only Lan knew that. It is understandable why she didn’t say anything to anyone, even to Siuan. The drive to find Rand, protect him, train him, even without her access to the One Power, was only thing that kept her alive. She sacrificed too much for the world, and she couldn’t stop now.

But from Siuan’s perspective, it all looked… strange.

And immured as she was in the Aes Sedai politics, and cut off from any information from Moiraine herself, not knowing what to trust in, the Aes Sedai ways and procedures was a natural place to fall back to. Safer. Until she could figure out for herself what to believe now.

Time was not on her side. Moiraine was not as honest with partner as Siuan expected her to be, and Siuan didn’t know what to expect from her next. Moiraine was too used to bear her burden without sharing with anyone and expected Suian to just trust her blindly, not seeing the damage she herself did to that trust.

Moiraine gave the oath to obey Siuan, thinking herself outsmarting everyone, never expecting her partner to ask of her something she wouldn’t gladly do. They both put the needs of the world before their personal wants, and now their different understanding of those needs took them apart.

Forever? Maybe. The breach of trust was pretty colossal.

I still have hopes, of course.

#wot on prime #wheel of time #moiraine damodred #siuan sanche #moiraine x siuan

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teal-fiend · 4 months

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Preds that work in groups.

I was thinking specifically of an Elite dance troupe. (As a continuation of one of my previous posts).

They all train together, they belong to the same dance company, they tour together.

They’re a bit strange, unapproachable. They don’t talk much, but they seem to be able to read each other's thoughts. They communicate through sly glances, and subtle gestures.

They have gained this synchronisation from years of training together as dancers. And for many years they have hunted together as well.

Like a pack of lionesses, they have developed a great coordination skill set that helps them both in their dancing careers, and with catching prey. They work together to ensure that every member of the group stays well fed.

Preds usually work alone, so this group has gained an infamous reputation. Other preds will leave the group alone if they enter into their territory, because they know they won’t win in a fight, and that the group will move on eventually anyway.

The group has like one prey member who’s off-limits, and the group will protect their prey fiercely. They let the prey be part of the group, because the prey is undoubtedly an excellent dancer, very talented, motivated, and a good team member, able to act as a diplomat for the preds, who tend to be hot-headed.

The way they defend the prey is territorial and possessive. The prey had to make sure that the preds wouldn’t eat anyone that wronged them even slightly (although, sometimes the prey doesn’t hold them back).

The prey can find it hard to make friends with other prey, since they always seem to have a predator (or several) shadowing them. It feels isolating sometimes, but the connection they have with their pack is closer than they could have formed with any prey. Despite their differences, the prey and their pred group have a deep, species-defying bond.

The prey is used to having preds around by now, so they aren’t uncomfortable when they consume prey, even if they tend to consume all at the same time; co-ordinated, as they are with all things.

The prey isn’t usually included in the hunting trips, though. Once the others get back, all of them are full and satisfied. The prey is their sitter, looking after them as they are exhausted from the trip, prey-drunk, not able to do much else than lie about and digest.

It can get pretty loud, nearly overwhelming with six or seven stomachs starting to burble as they come alive with digestion.

The prey helps them get comfortable, making sure everyone has a place to rest. They might massage a pred’s belly if their meal is a bit too energetic, just to help everyone settle down for the night. The preds would let the prey nap with them, lying against several different bellies, all working on processing fresh prey.

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ria-writes-stories · 6 months

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So close yet not there

Ship: Vuzi

Genre: Glass

Description: Part two of the first Vuzi fic on this channel. Going brrrrrrrr, everyone go and thank @bladeubae for this fanfic, for one of their wips inspired me to write this fiction(make sure to give them and their work some love)

Observaton note: obviously Uzi doesn't know the earth is literally non-existent at this point

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(No one's pov)

Life, was such a strange and annoying thing. It brought you the greatest moments of joy in your most miserable state, and brought you the greatest of distress when you were finally having a peaceful period of time, but of course, it couldn't last. Nothing lasts. Everything shapes and changes. Everything takes a turn, everything has a different perpective depending on who sees it. Nothing can be destoryed and nothing can be created from thin air either, the energy all around us simply takes another shape, stuck in this infinite loop of nothingness yet everything.

Ever since that night, nothing was the same anymore. Uzi's thoughts were more troubled, she didn't know where to turn, and in a moment of weakness she crawled back to what she thought was best for her, for the simple fact that the one that truly saw her for who she was, in an act of mercy and desperation, tried to put her out of it all in the heat of the moment when she thought that the drone was no longer herself but someone else, a haunting presence from the past, a presence she refused to loose anyone else to it, even if it meant she would have to be to put them out of the misery that they were in.

V was truly terrified, and of herself out of all things. She didn't think of a hopeful solution, she didn't think Uzi could snap out of her murder rampage, she didn't think Uzi would wake up from her state, so she tried to save her, but truly, who was she trying to save? Uzi? Or herself? The moment when Uzi asked for N, V was convienced that Uzi most have truly lost herself in an unbearable insanity of agony and torture, for how else could she ask for the one that broke her heart the most when she was right there, ready to break her own soul to bits and dust in order to build the strongest defenses seen by this planet to protect her? It made no sense, not to V. Yet the fool who was unable to protect her from herself was now the knight in shinning armour, the hero, but he was neither, he was a prince, and like all cocky or foolish blind princes he was unable to see that he was not her salvation, but rather her doom. What has V done wrong to be tossed to the side again, like a pile of scraps and nothing more? The past didn't let her live her present, and her possible future chose her torment over her joy as the present was drowning in this foggy timeline, numbed by the pain and loneliness that it had to reside within.

Has she not done enough? Has she not fought enough for her love? For her safety? For her greater good? Had she not come all the way over here for her? Has she not held her tightly in her arms? Has she not done it all for her? And yet… "Yo, I ate them. I get hungry idiot." "Not calling names, just asking." After everything, she took the blame, she covered it all with a petty lie, held any possible consequence far away from her.

She seemed at peace, she seemed happy, or at least, relaxed, at least for once in her life, next to him, ever since that one night… She couldn't offer her that. It angered her, it pained her and it drove her to insanity thatthe stupid thing that made them reside by each other's side turned to be the same thing to pull them further apart than ever before. It was unfair, it was cruel, cold, painful, agonising, tormenting and heart shattering. Was she not worthy of her love? Or was it that she accepted reality faster than everyone else that pulled her away from her? Was it that life tossed her around so much that she ended up being ready to loose everything all at once instead of having to fight helplessly to keep it all and still be left with nothing despite her best efforts? Maybe she wasn't the right one for Uzi. Maybe she was never meant to feel this silly little things. But she asked Uzi…she begged her, not to do it, and yet…she still did. That tiny little push over the edge, over the brink of helplesness and look where she was now…

Uzi was afraid of sacrificing everything that she had again, so she had no clue that by trying to sacrifice herself only, she lost all that she tried to protect. V was a far away dream to her. How could she love her? How could she care for her? She just tried to kill her didn't she? Then again, Uzi wasn't herself either…she killed so many people, the bitter tasted of their oil on the tip of her tongue still. How could she blame V when in reality she held back. J had that electro-magnetic gun that took her out in the first encounter she had with the disassembly drones, meaning that V too had it, so why had she not used it on her? It would have bought her enough time to do the deed? Yet she didn't… V was intelligent, fast and skilled, so if she wanted Uzi dead she could have found alternatives, yet she didn't…because she didn't even truly consider these options.

So why did it hurt, when this foolishly annoying boy, refused to hold her hand? Why…? Maybe because Uzi saw him as the only vilable excuse and gate away to hide from the far more painful reality, for it was painful for the very reason that it made her feel alive.

"Nah. Uzi, I trust you." "V PLEASE! WE NEED YOU!" Uzi was in too much pain to even realise what was happening. V could have left Uzi to be killed by the sentinels, but she saved her, and her thanks? Uzi went ahead and hugged N instead? She flirted with him, held hands, tried to cheer him up instead of her. Was that all that V deserved after what she did? If V was truly upset with her, if she was truly wishing to pull Uzi to shreds, she would have done so already, she had plenty of possibilites… She saved her, she cared for her, in her weird distant way, fulfilling her duty of protecting her, even if it was from afar, for if the defenses fall right next to the protected base, how will those within the base have time to prepare for what's next if the threat is knocking right at their door?

V saved her, her and him, multiple times, and it wasn't for selfish reasons, it wasn't to use them, it wasn't to toy with them, it was all for them, and they? They ignored her, neglected her, hurt her, doing the worse possible to someone that cared for them so deeply and dearly.

You never know what you had until you loose it, ain't that right? That is what they deserved, after everything that she did, after every single struggle and ounce of heavy torture placed upon on her shoulders. She deserved to be freed of this mortal pains and struggles, and they? They deserved to rot with this aching pain in their hearts.

The moment Tessa was quickly out of view once the elevator reached it's end, Uzi grapped onto N tightly as tears steamed down her cheeks. V was dead. She was dead and it was all of her fault. She could have saved her. If only she would have listened, if only she would have paid more attention and if only would she have been there for her the same she was.

But out there, true torment appears, in the illusion of hope and salvation. In a cell, with her hands crossed upon her chest, rested the purest angel that this world had ever had the honor to lay it's eyes upon. A cell that was attached with wires and cables to keep it powered and in function. A cell protecting the one that couldn't protect herself. A cell that took care of the one unable to recieve all that she deserved.

"V!" Uzi said in a quiet whisper, unable to believe her eyes. Was this a trick? A hologram? A hallucination? Was V there but as a spooky hollow snake crab? She didn't even care. So what if she was? So what if this V that she saw was just a hologram of the one that was torn to shreds, looking to rebuild herself, of the one that was now anything but V? She didn't care. She refused to at this point. She lost her with all of her silly complicated thoughts of anxiety, and now when her peek of heaven appeared she didn't want to let the opportunity pass, even if it would cost her greatly, even if it would somehow mean that V's sacrifice was in vein, she'd gladly die knowing that the parts of her body would be used to rebuild her, knowing that this pitiful act of joy represented her remorse and gratefulness.

The shorter girl pressed her body on the glass almost as if trying to fuse with it just to get a tad closer to the drone. "Is this how J also came back? How do I get you out?" Uzi was still unsure how J returned… Did she come from earth or did she wake up in a capsule like this? Whatever the answer was Uzi didn't want to wait any longer, yet she was unsure of what to do… V just died, so how long would it take for this new body to recieve all of her memories? What if she won't recieve them at all? What if this is just an empty vessel and nothing more? What if it was just a carcas good for scrap that will never host the radiant energy of one of he strongest people she has met in her entire short tiny life?

As these questions filled her head, Uzi slightly backed away from the glass, but her hands remained glued to it as if a hex had been placed upon them. Uzi took her tail out and used it to light this casket made of glass, shining it to see her better. She didn't look in pain, she didn't look troubled, she looked like she was resting, a sweet painless and proper rest. One from which she would wake up from with refreshed batteries, ready to take the world on again, as if it was just yesterday that she first opened her eyes.

Maybe she should let her rest…

'ERROR ⚠'

That is all that it took. A flash of light, a sudden boost of energy through the carcas, activating it's system, or at least trying to.

Words could not describe in a million years the horrible ache that had stabbed Uzi right into her soul. The joy, the pain, the agony and the distress. V was waking up, or at least she was trying to. After falling like weak prey, while sacrificing herself like a true hero, she was still fighting. Fighting for her. How foolish Uzi was, to not accept this kindness that the universe has blessed her with. To turn it down in fear of breaking it instead of just accepting it like it should.

A desperate scream left her mouth as she felt no control of herself just like back in the cabin. Her wings spread widely and her claws grew sharper and pointier, trying to claw at the glass, to penetrate and open it. Whatever the error she could fix it! Even if she didn't have her joystick she still would be able to do something. Anything! She could help her, she could finally help her. She could show her regret, her grief.

Everyone talks of how the scream of a mother in pain is worse than any blood curling scream and shriek that the world has ever heard, but no one tells you how such a deed only happens when the true selfless genuine love of one's heart and entire being is involved for otherwise there are plenty other mothers who do not even look at their children.

And so here was Uzi heard from every corner of this lower chambers, of this underground hell. From trapped sentinels to anything else that breathed and moved, all stopped in sync as the agonising scream filled the echoes of these walls, leaving no room for anything other than a sudden rush of arenaline and panic, as a far more dangerous being has entered the realms of this hidden world, and now more than ever, it's desperation made it worse than anything else that could have place foot in this cursed place.

All that would go against this shriek would fall apart, tore to shreds and turned into utter nothingess, so all unwillingly bowed their spirits in fear as the pained scream punctured all of one's senses to the brim, leaving space for nothing other than the same feeling that the source provided. Agony.

Gripping onto the glass and banging her fist on it's surface did not budge the imprisonment of this angel. She was alive, she had to be, for otherwise this vessel that so closely resembled her wouldn't have had a spark of anything in it without her also being there.

She had to break her free, she had to let her out to breath the air, as cold and as miserable as it was, she had to let her see the world again. It was her right, it was the least that she deserved, to live, and to be able to feel alive, and Uzi wasn't going to leave, not until she was out, not until she could hold her and told her all the words that her core trapped within itself by the command of her system, dooming those words to be foolish and useless, now none will be in it's way, for all that was left of the brinks of sanity was gone, now filled with one thing and one thing only, desperation.

Desperation like no other. She would tear to shreds anything that would dare approach her. She would stay there until the cursed mechanisam opened and let Uzi catch V in her arms like all the other times V carried her burdened heart all alone. She will hold her tightly and she will help V heal, she will make sure she is there by V's side just as she was. Uzi will keep her close and she will let V know with all the last days, hours, minutes or seconds that she has left, that she recognises all that V had done for her, and that she will never again in her life do anything to make this most blessed angel of all feel as if it was all for nothing and in vain. Sge will love her, she will stay by her side, and she will not let even death itself have the last word in it. She would make sure to do everything, anything and more to achieve this goal. Starting from this very moment, without a further a do or a moment of hesitation in her judgement.

The end

#murder drones v #murder drones uzi #murder drones uzi doorman #uzi doorman #md uzi doorman #md v #murder drones serial designation v #serial designation v #murder drones fanfic #murder drones vuzi #murder drones angst #murder drones uzi x v

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tleeaves · 4 months

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The Fictional Crush Line-Up For 2023 and Beyond

Was going to do this sooner (as in a review on the year based on the new or resurfaced interests I picked up, with aforementioned fictional crushes along the way), but I wanted to collect art for them all too and then I also had to try and remember them all. But here we are. If I'm missing any, I'll either have to edit and or reblog to include them.

See if you can spot any common threads (it may get trickier as the list goes on, just be warned). This goes almost in chronological order. But order does not in any way reflect my level of brainrot and obsession with each.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE FRAGILE THREADS OF POWER, BALDUR'S GATE III, AND ARCANE: LEAGUE OF LEGENDS (SPECIFICALLY REGARDING VIKTOR).

Consider yourself warned.

Victor Vale (Vicious by V.E. Schwab)

Victor and his revenge story are kind of responsible for kick-starting my journey of self-rediscovery these past twelve months, in a strange and roundabout way. He made me want to stick up for myself and what I wanted out of life. Sure, he's extremely morally grey in a concerning way, and yeah, we don't normally encourage revenge, but I found him a comfort at a difficult time. But also, I could totally fix him (no one can and it's no one's responsibility, yet the sentiment is still there). I'm not usually one for blonds (I am a liar) but his cold aesthetic is oddly pleasing. There's nothing I understand more than an awe that rots into resentment and envy while maintaining the same thread of fascination with someone. "Victor Vale was not a fucking sidekick" is just a, mwah, chef's kiss line. Honestly, I have less of a crush on this guy, more of an understanding that I appreciate. Also, I haven't even mentioned the chronic pain implications and canon uses of his powers. But that might be for another time.

Viktor (Arcane: League of Legends)

Another Viktor with chronic illness themes and whose (in LoL lore) regard for a partner in science goes sour over time as they pursue different objectives (not seen in the Netflix series yet, of course, it's too early for glorious evolution). This guy always comes back to rot in my brain, and I cannot wait for season 2 later this year to see what comes of his arc. I'm planning a fanfic involving him, Jayce, and maybe/sort of Jinx, based on a dream I had months ago but still have swirling in the soup that is my consciousness. There is something so pretty about this guy. If I was more confident in my sketching abilities, he'd end up being my muse way too often. Viktor's character to me is kind of a tragedy personified, and I love a good tragedy. Oh, and his voice actor?? Amazing. There's some debate over how authentic he sounds to Eastern Europeans, but the accent aside still, he sounds sooo good. I want to sit in on a lecture where he speaks about literally anything for two hours.

Kell Maresh (A Darker Shade of Magic; The Fragile Threads of Power by V.E. Schwab)

Usually, I don't talk about Kell because of how silly I feel like my crush on him is. I identify with Delilah "Lila" Bard throughout ADSOM and even Threads, so I hate further mentioning how much I actually think about Kell because I'd have to fist fight anyone who said I only relate to her because of Kell when that's not the truth. And yet, there's still enough differences between Lila and I for me to be like "if I had to pick a woman in the Schwabverse..." But also, MAYBE I JUST THINK KELL IS GORGEOUS, OKAY? 🫣 Maybe I like that he starts as a somewhat naive prince who's had things both easy and rough in life (wanting to be loved by the only family you know and not feel like you're only there to protect your adoptive brother whom your parents tried to tell you both was not actually your brother and you should stop treating each other as such is VALID, argue with the wall, also he's the bodyguard and eternal worrier (yes, worrying) for Rhy and he's taken lives way too young). Maybe I like that he fell first and fell hard for Lila (okay, but if we're getting into the nitty-gritty, she did flirt with him first multiple times, but she would never admit to actual feelings), that he's the male love interest without reservations for once, leaving it up to Lila and whether she's open to love for once in a story. And yeah, okay, maybe I like that he's actually some kind of a prince charming, the sort you always secretly dream about, you know? Shut up. I like his stupid magic coat too. He's clever, but occasionally actually unbelievably dumb, he's funny and witty yet he knows when to keep his mouth shut (and is usually the one hauling others out of a scrap because of their own smart mouths), he cares too much about his family, AND DID I MENTION HE ALSO HAS CHRONIC ILLNESS THEMES THAT BROKE MY DAMN CHRONICALLY ILL AND IN PAIN HEART? I've said too much already, but there. He's a guy.

Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man: Across The SpiderVerse)

This is the one my sister teases me most about because she doesn't get it. To be honest with you all, even I don't know how to explain it. But this guy. Miguel. There is something about him that I just abdkjdjsdv, you know? Is it the tragedy? The moral greyness? The fangs? His insane height? Just his fanon self? The fucking muscles?? I don't know. But I will defend how interesting he is as an antagonist until the cows come home.

Elliott (Stardew Valley)

Oh... boy. Sometimes, I realise I have a type. It's pretty guys who are hopeless romantics that write novels and poetry. Maybe it's just this one guy. But wow, it works on me. I'm writing a fanfic about him because I need to. There's only 400-odd words to it so far. It was not long after I met him in the game that I decided I had to wife him up. I planted that pomegranate tree early, because it's his favourite fruit for those who don't know, and he loves receiving them as a gift. I got ducks so I could give him their stray feathers. I learned how and when to find lobsters and catch crabs because he loves those too. If I'm out of gifts, I go get a coffee for him because every writer needs their sustenance. Literally, by Spring of Year 2, we were married, and I wondered if perhaps I might have been a little too single-mindedly pursuing every one of those cut scenes when I should have been taking it a bit slower and making it less of a mission. Don't know what to tell you, I went crazy. I fully believe in the headcanon that he gets up early just to go through his haircare routine. Is he pretentious? Maybe. Does he lay it on a little too thick that he's scared of dying alone? Well, okay, yes. Does it bother me that as a househusband he doesn't help out more on the farm? Occasionally. But there's also no one else I'd rather be with (and I developed a sprinkler system specifically so there was less work for me anyway and so now I don't mind at all when he isn't helping). And I can't believe my sister ever introduced me to Stardew Valley because I am now mentally ill about a videogame character made of pixels. Yes, I make wine just for him too. Hush. I spoil him daily now that we're married. Our first child is a son named Ernest. I was debating between Ernest and Edgar, and honestly, I think I should have gone with the latter, but I chose the former. All the dialogue from Elliott is so frickin' cute.

Astarion Ancunín (Baldur's Gate III)

And do you know what the worst part about this one is? I still haven't actually played Baldur's Gate III. I know, I KNOW. A crime. I'm working on it. But you best believe I've watched every cutscene I can, every scrap of gameplay dialogue, all the choices, the different endings you can get with him (Ascended breaks my heart every time -- I don't care how hot he is, it's not what he would have wanted, he doesn't love you like he used to anymore, and he's not as happy as he could be), and I've listened to all the interviews with Neil Newbon and the writer for Astarion about him. This fruity traumatised vampire haunts me. I want to hold him gently and caress his face and tell him he's beautiful and what he looks like to me since he hasn't seen his reflection in centuries and I want to make sure he knows he's loved. I want him to bite me and drink my blood too, but that's not as important. Does it weird me out how much he reminds me of Prince Charming from the Shrek franchise and Preminger from Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper and then aesthetically Asra from The Arcana: A Mystic Romance? Yes. But Astarion's also his own character and I'm in love with his smile and goofy lines.

Settrigh "Sett" (Heartsteel; League of Legends)

This... might be the lowest point, actually 💀 My sister would agree. Because it's not enough to crush on book characters, show characters, and videogame characters -- while technically this guy is a videogame character and was part of League of Legends waaay before the music video, it was the PARANOIA music video that got me. So, even fictional characters made/involved in music videos are not safe from my heart. Because, as I understand it, OG Sett is a bit different from Heartsteel Sett, and I've found I usually prefer reading about the interpretation of the latter in fanfic more than the former. I mean, I still really, really enjoy fanfics where he's The Big Boss of the pits, and or his other background/lore is included, but I've read some where his old personality is a bit Yikes. The golden retriever energy is my favourite era of his if we can call it that (I still headcanon him as a part fox Vastayan, you can't convince me otherwise so go argue with someone else about it, not me). And honestly, I think I might have read more fics involving Sett in 2023 than I did any of the other characters on this list. Which is saying something since he's not as popular as a few of them. He's a pretty guy and I wish to bite him. Lovingly.

Mizu (Blue Eye Samurai)

Oh woman. Mizu is... is... she's basically my wife. I know she's all our wife, but like just let me dream a little here. As soon as I finished the series, I was opening up Tumblr, Pinterest, and AO3, my holy trinity of fandom. My platonic wife was sending me TikToks of our shared fictional wife. Mizu can wind up non-binary, male, female, I honestly do not mind because I am in love with any version she is/becomes (for now, I interpret her as a woman in disguise, but if that changes, I'll absolutely change how I refer to Mizu). She is a tragedy wrapped up in revenge because of a rotten love and unfortunate parentage and time period. I want her as much as I want to be her. Also? I go insane over her little smiles and smirks. I LOVE when we got to hear her laugh, even if it was mostly the flashbacks (do not mention Mikio near me; if he wasn't already dead, I would kill him). Also, who doesn't hate their British/white half, ahaha, oh my god, I know mixed ethnicity is a hot topic for people who do not want POC whitewashed in media, and I fully understand that, but I do appreciate seeing parts of myself in mixed characters like the conflict between trying to be more like one side than another. I'll also admit it: she does indeed look hot covered in blood and carrying a sword. I'll see myself out the door. I've been wanting to write a fanfic about her but I'm still stewing over ideas. Mizu is also probably my first truly major crush on a fictional woman (other than my childhood crush on Helga Sinclair from Atlantis: The Lost Empire). Vi from Arcane comes pretty close, but I see too much of myself in her that it gets weird.

We'll do some honourable mentions for characters from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim since I've gotten into that again.

Brynjolf, Hadvar, and Nazir, I wish I could mod my gameplay so I could marry you. The developers hated their men-loving gamers (I know the women-lovers complain about Serana, but she will never be as heartbreaking as Brynjolf, I don't care if she recognises proposals only to decline them). I mean, Brynjolf is the Tamriel equivalent of Scottish, he calls you "lass/lad", has got a smoothass voice, supports you through so much of the Thieves Guild questline, has a wicked sense of humour, and then when you finish the questline, it's all "sorry, lass. Got important things to do. We'll speak another time" 😭 You can't even recruit him as a follower. He says nothing when you wear an amulet of Mara. I play on a fucking PS4, I can't do mods to marry him or get more dialogue.

(By the way, on my most recent playthrough, Lydia died when I fought the troll on the seven thousand steps, and I am still mad about it. It used to be difficult for Lydia to die, that was why I brought her everywhere, and now I have to become Batman "I work alone". ESPECIALLY after Benor then died on the way up to Paarthurnax. I still can't believe that happened, I should have told him to stay behind and wait for my return.)

Also, every time I play, Derkeethus is so bugged, I can't even rescue him let alone marry the guy, which was disappointing because he seemed nice.

Argis the Bulwark, Vilkas, Farkas, Rayya, Aela the Huntress, and Marcurio, you are all marriageable and live in my heart always. Marcurio was the first I ever married, I think. Three guesses why I chose him (it's the sarcasm, wisecracks, and general sense of humour) (maybe the long hair too). Has anyone noticed how there doesn't seem to be marriageable options among the Khajiit characters?? Why do you think that is? I just checked the Skyrim marriage wiki and this is what it has to say in the trivia: 'There are no Khajiit spouses, however; since the majority of Khajiit in Skyrim are traders or travelers from Elsweyr, they probably have families back home. Additionally, Khajiit characters talk about home a lot, stating how much they miss it and how cold Skyrim is; thus, they probably do not want to marry and settle down in Skyrim.'

Heart-breaking. Oh well.

And that's the end of the line-up. If you read through this, Divines bless your goddamn soul. Psycho-analyse me based on them, I dare you. Or just judge me. I'd like to see either. And if you can find something in common about them all (you don't need to consider the honourable Skyrim mentions), please let me know, because I am personally at a loss.

#victor vale #viktor arcane #kell maresh #miguel o'hara #elliott stardew valley #astarion ancunin #sett heartsteel #mizu blue eye samurai #skyrim characters #these are all just from the past twelve months #the real common thread here might just be mental illness

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