#SEARCH UP REFERENCES BEFOREHAND.

[nemiisnemisis]

hhhh this is my progress for the animatic

the struggles i never thought i would have but i do

[dixons-sunshine]

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

[artsykidwolf-2000]

Hello I would like to request something. How eould Sephiroth act when he has a crush on someone? Idc if it's post-Nibelheim or while he's still a Soldier. I leave that up to you. Thank you so much if you do this and have a wonderful day :3

Great question Le Anonymous! This is similar to what I thought for my Ravenroth ship (maybe?) BUT this topic is cute nonetheless. I might just do both ideas! Hope you like these headcanons!

SEPHIROTH CRUSH HEADCANONS

PRE-NIBELHEIM

Sephiroth as a SOLDIER he never really had romantic feelings, even as a teenager. Once he became more of an adult that's when his tables turned.

He would get flustered when Genesis or Angeal made a joke about the person Sephiroth liked. But he hid it well but you could see pink dust on his cheeks. He'd get confused about butterflies in his stomach and why they were there.

As he explores his feelings more, he tries to be braver around his special someone. When he eventually asked them on a date on his free time he was happy. He shined that shy smile of his. He took them to a fancy restaurant and bought them flowers or a little gift for a start. He's a good listener and would mostly let his date take charge of small talk if they were brave, if not he would.

He might take them on a walk or shopping on the next few dates. He has a lot of money to burn! As the relationship progressed he'd eventually confess his attraction. He's still new to all this lovey dovey crap so it'll be a slow start but with the help of his partner he would be just fine and even start to be very romantic on occasion.

Genesis and Angeal would absolutely still tease him about his romantic efforts and Genesis would try and coach him to the behest of Sephiroth's will. Angeal would just tell Sephiroth to be himself and be more gentleman-like and uphold honor in his word. He loves his friends' efforts but he's already had Genesis talk his ear off about Loveless references...Angeal is more tolerable.

Yes Zack would absolutely have his jaw hit the dang floor about hearing about ALL of this and how Sephiroth has a partner. Zack just can't help not hiding his puppy-like wonder.

Sephiroth talks about his mother a lot with their partner. If his partner was willing to research more about if his mother was truly dead or not AND found the truth then you bet your bottom gil he would try and find his real mother and bring justice to Hojo.

POST-NIBELHEIM

Good lawd where to start....

Ok! With Sephiroth off his rocker bc of everything that's happened. Things would be different and difficult to comprehend.

If Sephiroth still had his partner before he went bonkers he would ABSOLUTELY try and keep them with him at all costs. He still loves them but it's slowly creeping into bad territory. If he did not have a partner beforehand he would kinda stalk them like he does Cloud. Leave flowers and candy and whatever else on their doorstep. Then it turns into jewelry or expensive items. Then himself out of the blue.

It creeps the partner out but the love is still there. His good looks and charm works wonders. They try and figure out what went wrong with him. Maybe they try and reverse what happened if they're more than just a normal person. Magic can only go so far.

If their efforts are fruitful then he slowly reverses back to his old self just a bit but can't quite shake off Jenova unless someone destroys her. He also finds out about his real mother. He would search for her with them.

If it was in vain then he would be angered fairly easily. Trying to turn them into more like him or be more loyal or obey him. Regardless if he still had love in his heart.

Sometimes at night, you can hear cries...but from who is up to the mind's desire...

[reidmania]

made up memories | spencer reid

summary; reader struggles with feeling homesick, but has never felt ‘at home’ anywhere, good thing spencer cares and always understands.

warnings; fem reader, no use of y/n cus ew, angst w fluff, hurt x comfort, early seasons spencer, mentions of bad home life, family issues, homesick, feeling out of place, not knowing who you are, struggles fitting in, references depression, mentions vomiting, no one actually vomits, feeling physically sick over mental emotions, references missing a childhood dog, missing having a pet, bad childhood (arguing parents, lol same?) friends to lovers but not entirely romance based. mutual pinning, both are silly and idiots.

an; self indulgent bc im lying in bed at home and I feel homesick. 2kish words

Sick.

You felt sick. The sort of sick that had your stomach twisting around on itself and making you feel as if any moment an existential amount of vomit would leave your throat if you let your lips part. It was the sort where you knew you weren’t actually going to be sick, it was the sort of sick that was a physical reaction to the turmoil in your mind— even if it felt otherwise.

Your hands fumbled with the few keys on the keyring you had bought too many years ago from a small shop you didn’t remember the name of, your hands searching for the house key to slide into the lock. You just wanted to go home.

Your hands twisted the door handle down and you absentmindedly waited for the sound of barking as the sound of the door opening rang through the empty house, you waited for the pattering of paws against the hardwood floor of the entry way without even realising it.

It never came and the sick feeling created a hole in your gut.

You tugged off your coat, hanging it up as you took in the scent, the candle you had been burning before leaving for the case three days ago, still leaving a sweet lingering scent floating around the walls of your house, you expected the smell to be comforting and refreshing after a long day but it only caused your chest to tighten.

You made your way to the kitchen, keys discarded somewhere on the counter you paid no mind to, your hands shaky as you reached for a glass, filling it up with water from the tap. You tried to ignore the overwhelming silence that filled the walls, leaving an empty place in your heart. The glass of water was half drank and forgotten on the counter as your elbows came to rest against the cold marbled tops, head held in your hands, trying to focus on anything other than the ache that took over every single aspect of your body, and the thoughts that overcame your mind.

You didn’t know how long you were standing like that, it felt like hours, letting the silence leave room for your minds to be louder, you considered turning the tv on to full volume just for some sort of background noise — before there was a soft knock at the door.

You were tempted to ignore it as you stood up straight and shuffled towards the door, but also part of you ached for some sort of conversation regardless of who was on the other side of the door, or what they wanted, so you opened the door to reveal the last person you were expecting, your coworker, Spencer reid.

“Hi” He mumbled out almost sheepishly as his hand came to the back of his neck, as if he hadn’t just spent the last three days working with you, along with the last few years on top of that. Maybe this was different for him because it was outside of work, maybe he was just nervous to see you, maybe he was excited — Maybe you were trying to think about anything other than what was actually on your mind.

Your eyebrows dipped, taking in his expression as you wet your lips — too dry beforehand to talk. “Spencer, What- What are you doing?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you because what was he doing at your house?

He huffed slightly, lifting his hand a little and your gaze dropped as you took in the bag that he was holding — your bag. “You- Uh- You left your bag” He said, eyes trailing over your features, taking in every expression on your face. Your eyes widened slightly at the realisation.

“Oh- I didn’t even realise” You mumbled out, it now dawning on you that you had in-fact been in such a rush you hadn’t grabbed your bag, your coat and keys — yes but your bag no. You were grateful he had realised and thought it was important that he returned it, even though you could’ve just got it when you went into work tomorrow morning, it was a sweet gesture.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to bring it — I could’ve gotten it tomorrow” You mumbled out apologetically as he handed you the bag, you took it thankfully. Feeling slightly guilty he had come all the way to your house just to give you the bag you had forgotten, but you appreciated the kindness of the small act of service.

He looked down for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling in a soft shrug, “Its no big deal- And um- I was worried about you.” He deadpanned the end of his sentence as his head lifted to try and gauge your reaction, seeing if maybe he had a right to be worried over your stranger behaviour the last few days.

You tilted your head slightly, sure you had been quieter as you tried to drown out the overwhelming dread and displacement you felt over the last few weeks — the feeling you had felt almost the entirety of you life yet just a little more recently, but you didn’t think it was noticeable.

“Oh” It passed through your lips as Spencer slowly stepped inside your house. You wondered if the place felt as un-homely to him as it did it to. You wondered if the silence was as loud for him as it was for you — then you realised it probably wasn’t. You closed the door as he was now inside your house.

“Are you okay?” He asked, taking in the silence of your demeanour that matches the silence of your house.

You let out a huff at the loaded question because technically yes, you were fine. You weren’t seriously ill or doing really horribly mentally — you just felt sick, and out of place in the one space you were supposed to call home. You felt homesick and you didn’t even know where home was, you didn’t know what that feeling felt like. Was it possible to miss something you had never felt?

“What does my house smell like?” You asked, trying to figure out something, like a debate in your mind. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows as he walked further into your space, you followed like a lost puppy — as if this wasn’t your house. You knew he didn’t understand the reasoning of your question and the lack of your answer to his.

“Sweet, but subtle. Its nice” He said, turning his head to look at you as he sat down on the sofa, his full attention on you. You could tell by his body language his focus was on you and you completely. That was overwhelming as well, but you ignored that.

You sat down next to him but keeping a fair distance, your hands resting on your knees as you kept your focus on the way your fingers fiddled with themselves rather than the fact you were pretty sure the more you spoke the deeper the pit in your stomach grew uncomfortably. Taking the the difference of your perception of the scent that filled your house.

“Its making me feel sick” You admitted, your voice quiet.

His lip tucked under his teeth in concern as he tried to catch a glimpse of your expression. You knew it probably wasn’t the candle, or the scent of your house, the silence, or the lack of animal presence that was making you feel sick. It was probably just your own presence in a place that felt so wrong.

“Why?” He asked, trying to understand what about the scent that made you feel sick, knowing the issue most likely ran deeper than that, it was obvious in your avoidance of the question. Your shoulders raised and fell in a shrug as you turned your head to look at him.

“It feels wrong.” You said.

He hummed in understanding, he was tempted to go into the scientific and psychological aspects of scent and familiarity but he decided against it, instead his gaze was gentle as he shuffled to sit up a little straighter. “Just the scent?” He asked, a gnawing feeling at his gut that there was more to it.

You shook your head. “Everything — Just everything feels wrong. I feel wrong, I feel.. Out of place.” You huffed out, voice and words slightly muffled for a moment as you dragged your hands down your face. “Everywhere I go.” You finished.

A frown fell on his lips at the honesty of your words, but he understood more than he cared to admit. “Do you want me to just listen? Give you a solution or a hug?” He asked.

He hated physical touch but he hated seeing you upset way more. Spencer would never admit it but the idea of your touch didn’t seem as bad as everyone else. Not even close.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his gentle and caring response, “Just listen.. For now” You mumbled out, pretty sure you would need a hug at the end of this. You didn’t necessarily want a solution or advice on how to fix what you were feeling, you just needed someone to understand.

He nodded, shuffling as he leant against the back of the couch, eyes lingering on yours with a soft reassuring nod, encouraging you to talk. Spencer was happy to provide you with comfort — even if that just came in the form of listening.

“I just- Constantly feel sick, like in my stomach and I get headaches and its constant, all the time no matter where i am. ill find myself laying in bed and just thinking ‘i want to go home’ when i technically am — if home isn’t here then I don’t know where else it would be” You mumbled out the ramble.

His head tilted as he listened to you talk and express your inner turmoil, heart aching at the knowledge of your pain. Feeling out of place constantly was something Spencer knew all too well. “When was the last time you felt at home?” He prompted, his voice gentle and curious with an overwhelming ache to help.

Your frown deepened as you mulled over his question as if it wasn’t one you had asked yourself a million times, answer always left unfound. “Thats the thing- I don’t know if I ever have.” You spoke honestly.

Your hands ran through your hair as you sat up straighter, full body turning on the couch so you were facing him. “I buy new candles every week, new blankets and pillows, i rearrange my furniture, i move houses — all to try and find a resemblance of something i don’t know, i’ve ever experienced.”

It wasn’t a lie; ever since you had moved out of your childhood house, away from your family. you signed short leases and would stay until they were over — even if offered to extend you were searching for somewhere that made you feel a little less out of place between the walls. You would rearrange furniture from a memory you could never see clearly enough — maybe because it wasn’t a real memory instead a false representation of what something was suppose to feel like.

The comforters on your bed changed monthly, even sooner, you were buying new bedding and new cushions because nothing was quite right, nothing matched what you wanted in your head, how could it when you weren’t even sure what it was?

“Im sorry” He frowned out, his words sincere and genuine. Like he genuinely hated hearing to know you were feeling this way. He wanted to help you understand the realistic image your mind was creating, an unrealistic expectation of a feeling, but he didn’t want it to come across wrong or in an attempt to invalidate. He was also sure you already knew that this wasn’t realistic or sustainable.

He knew this wasn’t a way anyone should live their life, especially you. But he also knew he was a little bit biased.

“Could it be something from your childhood?” He asked, voice gentle and caring as he tried to help you understand the inner struggle you were facing. Everyday.

You shook your head as you didn’t even need to think about that, “No. God no.” You huffed out, running your hand through your hair again, an overwhelming need to do something with your hands. “That- I remember what that felt like — thats not- I don’t- I wouldn’t, No. I don’t want that feeling, that feeling isn’t what I’m looking for. The only thing even remotely the same is its like I am expecting my dog at the door everyday when I get home — and i miss chaos, I can’t stand silence anymore.”

Your mind filled with memories of the chaos of your childhood, not the good sort. Not the sort of siblings running around and playing with imaginary friends or laughing loudly at a kids show playing on the tv.

No, it was more like yelling of parents and arguments constantly drowning out any other possible noise, glass and dishes shattering when things got a little bit too intense, doors slamming and your mothers sobs in the other room.

Spencer didn’t need to pry further into the inner workings of your mind, not to know that whatever you had experienced when you were younger clearly wasn’t a good memory. He also could tell by your reaction, and other context clues because — he knew you better than he’d admit, you weren’t exactly fond of your childhood.

“Sometimes people who grow up around chaos grow to hate loud surroundings, noises, too much people or chaos in general. Other people, like you — learn to thrive in it, find comfort in chaos, especially if it’s all you know. Silence and awkwardness is uncomfortable because it’s unfamiliar. Thats understandable.” Spencer nodded as he spoke, unable to stop the facts rolling off his tongue.

Your heart soared slightly, here he was offering you comfort in the most beautiful way. He was validating, understanding, and truthful in every word that left his lips. He was also offering advice in his comfort without even realising he was doing it. You needed chaos, you needed background noise, and people. It didn’t have to be yelling or doors slamming, just sound, any sound that offered you an escape from the dangers of your own mind.

“I want to get a dog” You mumbled out gently, in response to his words even if it was an indirect response. His head nodded, as his eyes studied your face. You ignored the fact you were being profiled right now by him.

“I think thats a good idea” He said his voice gentle. Validating, understanding. “I know this feeling its horrible, and feels never ending. the feeling of being ‘Home’ Is subjective, depending on the person feeling it. Home doesn’t have to be a place, nor does it have to be a candle scent, or a certain type of bedding. Its whatever makes you feel comfortable, and safe. Free to feel what you need to feel and be whoever you need to be. It feels different for everybody.” He said gently, his hand reaching out.

You took it as you mulled over his words, letting your mind take focus of the feeling of his fingers gently trailing down the veins on the back of your hand before brushing softly over your knuckles, the touch offering more comfort than you thought humanly possible.

You knew he was right, trying to find a feeling created purely by your imagination and a memory that didn’t exist was silly and you only set yourself up by failure by doing so time and time again. Home wasn’t supposed to be something so demanding.

“Can I have that hug now?” You asked, peering up at him. Voice quiet. He let out a soft laugh and nodded his head almost instantly, his arms spread as his hand intwined with your gently tugged you closer. You shuffled on the couch, hand loosing his as your arms wrapped under his arms, resting against his back as your head found place on his chest. His hands instantly wrapped back around you, rubbing soft smoothing circles over your shirt.

You allowed yourself to let your mind wander away, instead focusing on the warmth of his arms and the smell of him, your mind blanking out all unrealistic expectations and thoughts, all made up memories and feelings that hadn’t yet to exist, instead you just focused on the feeling of Spencer.

And for the time being, the pit in your stomach began to fill with him rather than homesickness.

[alcazarofthestars]

Can you do Blue Lock Sae x female reader x Rin fluff? The brothers are fighting for her love.

Hehehehe.... I don't know why but I'm a sucker for these types of fics, especially since it's about my two favorite bllk boys. But anyways, sure anon! I desperately need to practice writing fluff since I haven't done any for a while now. And I realized how hard it is to make a banner on a laptop because I originally wanted them to be placed on different sides... TwT

English isn't my first language so there will be some problems with my grammar.

Warnings: Nothing really, just Rin and Sae fighting for the reader's attention behind her back. Reader is implied to be their childhood friend and a bit older than Rin. Reader will be referred to as [Name].

3rd person POV:

Today in the Itoshi household, there seems to be a little... problem...

"Just what do you think you're doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Spain or something." Rin spat as he glared at his older brother, Sae, who was sitting on the couch in front of him.

But to understand what is currently happening, let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Today is one of the few days where Rin could take a break from Blue Lock. Usually on days like these he would inform his dearest childhood friend (and crush), you, so the two of you can hang out before he returns to Blue Lock again. But unfortunately for Rin, there seems to be a change in his plans. And this rearrangement was caused by none other than his older brother Sae who just so happens to be on a break from his job.

And that leads us to where we are now. The two brothers are currently having an intense staring contests, the tension in the room is so thick that it could be cut in half using a knife. And to finish it all off, Mr and Mrs Itoshi are out of town on business so they couldn't separate the two away from each other.

It was at that moment that the person who would break the tension arrived, knocking on the door. "Hello? Rin, are you there?" The familiar voice of [Name] called, making both brothers freeze as they turn to look at the door. "I'm going to come in, alright?" She threatened as the door was slowly opening.

[Name] had just opened the door, but it seems like she hadn't realized that Sae was also there in the living room because she looked busy searching for something in the bag that she had brought along with her. "I know that you had just got back from Blue Lock and stuff, but I got you-?!" And that was her when she realized that Sae was there. "A-ah, it's nice to see you again, Sae." She greeted him, although a bit hesitant due to the fact that she wasn't expecting him to be in Japan right now.

Sae had now focused his attention on [Name], a small unnoticeable blush crept up on his face, as he just gave a small nod before looking away and focusing on the floor. Has it always been this clean and spotless?

A moment of peaceful (awkward) silence came after. "Hey Sae, we were about to watch a few movies together. Do you want to join us? It'll be just like what we used to do together when we were younger." As if sensing the tension, [Name] smiled as she tried to change the topic by inviting Sae to their little binge watching session. Much to Rin's dismay that was evident by the surprised look on his face. "Sure, I don't really have anything to do anyways." He responded although a bit blunt, he seemed rather excited when [Name] suggested that he joined them.

But this didn't escape Rin's sight. He isn't going to let his brother get in the way of his time with [Name], not on his watch.

If there's one thing that both brothers can remember well are all the moments that they had spent together with [Name]. But some of the most memorable has to be all the movie nights/sleepovers that they had together when they were younger. Though, most of the fun memories were made in the preparation for the movies, such as;

Making Homemade Snacks in the Kitchen

Usually before they'd start, they would prepare the snacks beforehand together. But Rin would rather not take any chances of his brother getting closer with his crush. So he had already prepared for this.

How you may ask? Well that's simple! He is way much better at cooking than Sae, he's been training for this moment since that one time you got bedridden due to a fever in middle school. So he will definitely impress you with his cooking skills!

So when you asked for them to help in preparing some snacks, he was more than confident in his skills.

He did not expect this to happen. Someone please explain to him why on earth his brother is getting all of [Name]'s attention while he just watches on the sidelines as he continues to peel the skin of potatoes in his own silent anger.

He swears that Sae is doing it on purpose too! I mean, just look at how whenever you weren't looking he would give a small but sly smirk to his younger brother before asking how to continue doing the next step in the cooking book. Sae doesn't even need help with most of the steps! Like come on, was he born yesterday or something cause he's acting like he doesn't know how to use a blender or cut some tofu.

Rin doesn't know why but he feels jealous whenever you would get close to his brother to show him how to do something or how you would put your hand on Sae's to guide him whenever he was cutting something. At this point, Rin is practically seething in jealousy. So much so that he didn't notice when he accidentally cut his finger a bit.

Sae may have won the kitchen battle, but he will not win the movie war.

Scores:

Rin: 0 Sae: 1

2. Preparing a Comfortable Spot to Watch

This is a tradition that would make their parents angry, you see, as kids both brothers would love to make a pillow fort together while you were busy usually with making the drinks. But sometimes, they tend to forget about it and their parents would scold them about returning things back to where it originally was.

Truthfully, Sae had forgotten about this little tradition. He doesn't really have any time for watching movies, and if he did it was either at a cinema with his teammates or on his couch in his house in Spain.

So during the time [Name] was preparing the drinks, Sae was just scrolling on his phone because he had gotten a lot of calls and texts from Shidou who somehow has his phone number now so Sae was trying to block him only for Shidou to use another number, but while this was happening Rin was turning the living room into a literal pillow haven. Most of the room was filled with pillows, blankets, and plushies (You gave one to each of them for their birthday and it's been well taken care of).

Rin wonders how Sae will react once he finds out that he was the culprit who gave Shidou his number. When Sae realized what Rin was doing (Sae made Shidou snitch on Rin), it was far too late. You already finished making the drinks and Rin had already picked out a movie.

Perhaps Sae was feeling a bit tired because he swears that he had seen Rin smirking at him as you compliment Rin. Yeah, he was definitely drowsy cause there is no way that he's losing against his brother out of all people, and even worse is that he's taking all of your attention.

No, he is not jealous.

He is definitely not jealous. Why would he be? He is way much better than Rin, so why would he be jealous? So what if Rin got a kiss on his cheek as a reward? when it comes to you; he won't lose to anyone, especially Rin.

If Rin wants to challenge him then he should know that Sae won't back down that easily.

Scores:

Rin: 1 Sae: 1

3. Movies!

When the three of you were still little kids you had a bedtime, but since you're now older you can stay up as long as you want. And back then there was a very limited amount of movies that you were allowed to watch since you were still young, but now you can watch anything you want although there is still some that you'd rather stay away from.

There are a large number of movies that the TV could offer, you were no longer confined to watching movies rated for kids so there wasn't much trouble with picking what to watch.

The problem is the two Itoshi brothers, you were aware of what had happened between them and the fact that their relationship isn't really the best. But this is too much! They've been glaring at each other since you came in. The tension feels almost suffocating, no scratch that- it is suffocating.

"How about we watch this one?" You asked as you had just picked a random movie, the two only nodded their heads as you started the movie.

Oh God that sure was a mistake.

Of all the movie options available you just had to pick out a horror movie, huh? Well, can't really back down now.

So this leads you to where you are right now, sitting in between Sae and Rin as you hold on tightly to Sae's hand after he offered it to you seeing how much you were sweating as Rin just rolled his eyes in jealousy. But the thing that you don't know is that Sae is afraid as well.

There was a scene halfway in the movie where the suspense was incredibly high when suddenly a jump scare appeared causing both you and Sae to scream as you hugged Rin's arm tightly for the rest of the movie.

The two brothers seemed sleepy when the movie had ended. You had excused yourself to use the washroom and placed a pillow in your stead. but when you got back there was a surprise waiting for you. Both Sae and Rin had fallen asleep leaning on the pillow that you placed in your stead.

Final Score:

Rin: 1.5 Sae: 1.5 [Name]: 2

Mission make the Itoshi brothers bond together has somehow failed successfully, but you aren't really complaining.

[autistichalsin]

Gameplay changes I'd make to BG3 if I was in charge:

(Under a read more bc this is an insanely long list)

Ability to make party changes without going back to camp; I.E. "hey Lae'zel, go back to camp and tell Karlach to come here."

Able to see companion approval at all times even if they're not in the party

Able to make checks with any character, not just Tav. You used to be able to do this to an extent by having other characters do conversations, but when they made it so Tav was prioritized back in patch 6, they changed it so that even if you click with another companion, it switches to Tav. Ideally they would fix it so that if the conversation triggers automatically, it prioritizes Tav, and if you deliberately start a conversation with another companion, it recognizes that you wanted that.

Better item sorting. "Most recent" actually sorts by when you acquired the item.

Ability to text search for an item if you know its name.

Ability to mark an item as a favorite so you don't accidentally sell it/drop it/send it back to camp.

Quest items don't count against your weight total.

Quest items that are no longer relevant are no longer marked as quest items.

Either allow for character leveling past 12 (Even if class leveling is limited to 12) or adjust the difficulty across the board so you scale more evenly. Act 1 becomes a bit easier, act 2 remains about the same, act 3 becomes a lot harder. I should not hit the level cap early in act 3.

Alternatively, at least give a reward in lieu of XP when you hit the level cap. Items, gold, a points system that lets you use excess XP to buy additional spell slots/wilshape charges/rage charges/bardic inspiration, something.

Story mode; battles are disabled, allowing you to solely explore and focus on the story elements.

Dark Urge as a companion.

Ability to change who your unfortunate murder victim is, outside of Alfira and Quill. Maybe it's Zevlor, or Rolan, or Kagha.

More recruitable evil companions. Kagha, Wulbren, and Ethel are a good start.

Halsin recruitable in act 1 or at least no later than the start of act 2.

More reactivity for story developments after act 1, particularly in act 3 when it drops to little comments here or there.

More reactivity for Dark Urge story elements in particular, especially everything related to the Orin fight.

Ability to fast travel to quest-related markers.

Ability to hook up your companions. Let me smooch Halsin but hook up Karlach and Wyll, or let me romance Wyll while hooking up Halsin and Astarion!

Change point and click lines for characters to reflect story developments (resist Durge should sound less unhinged, Lae'zel shouldn't reference Vlaakith after turning away from her, etc)

Let your love interest answer questions about you during the love dryad test. You can select the right answers beforehand, and then they'll answer right or wrong depending on a bit of approval and a bit of luck/dice rolling. Halsin, of course, will automatically know you fear krakens.

Fighting Gortash at the coronation is actually an option that doesn't break the bridges and doesn't disable fast travel into Wyrm's Rock once he's defeated.

Give the gnomes the ability to fix Karlach's engine, or at least work on a prototype.

Option to speed up or entirely skip enemy turns, coming back to you and giving you a brief recap of who was hit and for how much damage/what status effects. This would make the courtyard, in particular, less of a slog. I should not be able to finish my turn, take a pee break, and come back to the enemies still attacking.

Ability to make it more clear what your relationship with Halsin is in a polymance- keep it as a one night stand/physical relationship, make it a poly romance with your other partner as your nesting partner, or even make it a throuple. Similarly, if the latter, add scenes of your partners getting to know each other better, kissing, etc.

Don't tie so many plot events to long rests while stressing that the player needs to hurry to avoid ceremorphosis. Either drop the facade that there is a rush, or make these plot developments happen outside of camp.

Consequences for using tadpoles beyond one (possibly two as of patch 7) dice rolls. Make it so using too many will cause you to squid, no matter what.

Ideally, bring back the plot that was teased in act 1, where instead of being the Emperor, you Dream Guardian was your tadpole, trying to seduce you to let it take over.

Better balancing for Rangers at higher levels, as as it is now, you basically have to multiclass them to get any decent use out of them. After level 5 any additional levels spent on Ranger are wasted.

Improve Eldritch Knight and Arcane Trickster to use the class's standard stat instead of int or wis for their spells.

All wildshape attacks minus three of the four myrmidons should count as unarmed for the purposes of tavern brawler and other similar things that buff unarmed attacks working.

Make the Emperor/Orpheus a fully autonomous party member, allowing you to give them equipment (and allowing them to use potions/spells they didn't already have on hand) during the final battle.

Fix pathfinding for characters you don't control, and especially fix them automatically jumping back to the other side of a gap just because you had to switch to a character who wouldn't make the jump before.

Improve Fly so that it is better than Jump outside of like 2-3 levels.

Some kind of enemy-rush mode where you see how long you can last against all the bosses in the game would be amazing.

Ability to either return to the city and finish up some quests before the epilogue.

New game plus.

Origin Halsin and Minthara.

The game does a better job of remembering that Halsin isn't tadpoled, and also does a better job of not always assuming that if you're in a poly relationship with him, you want the other partner prioritized for literally every scene.

Resist scene for Minthara and Halsin.

Recruitable Aylin and Isobel. Ideally, you can also romance them and become their third.

Dye preview, as well as clothing and armor previews.

Armor scales in weight with your size, so the same armor put on a small character will weigh less than the same armor on a large character, allowing little characters more options.

Druids automatically revert to human form for cutscenes, then return to wildshape after without losing a charge.

Orin can kidnap any character, including your romanced companion, but to compensate, there are less steps needed to access the Temple of Bhaal.

The kidnapped companion is not guaranteed to be unharmed even if you save them; depending on how long you took, they might have been badly tortured and receive a status debuff that lasts several days.

Faith-leap trial is fixed so that you can actually solve it without either a guide or cheesing it.

Let Wyll dump Mizora as a patron, then become an Archfey warlock with Thaniel and Oliver as his patrons. Wyll then becomes a nature defender.

More autonomy for Wyll in his quest. You can't make the pivotal choices of his story arc for him, and instead, your ability to convince him is tied to dice rolls that have a DC scaled to your approval, like for SH.

Able to take Scratch and Owlbear home in the epilogue, instead of only being able to send Owlbear with SH, Halsin, or you if romanced to either.

Let Karlach stay in the House of Hope if Hope lived, allowing her to live in Avernus without having to constantly fight and fear Zariel.

More interesting Speak With Animals conversations. They drop dramatically after act 1, and by act 3 there are very few times I use the spell anymore, just to talk to the kitties.

Able to cast certain spells (I.E. Hero's Feast) on all recruited characters, not just those in the active party.

54. Fix the morality system for Paladin oaths so that it's more clear what actions will break your oath ahead of time.

55. Give players more chances to fix things if a character turns temporarily hostile. I shouldn't lose a vendor, quest, etc for good because of a failed persuasion roll. There should be one more chance to fix it.

56. More deities for players to choose from; if not for Clerics, at least add more at the Stormshore Tabernacle. Ideally, allow even other classes to talk about having a favored deity, as most in the Realms do, and it would be interesting to, for example, be a Ranger, worship Mielikki, and have dialogue with Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc.

57. Act 3 gets more unique music instead of largely reusing tunes from acts 1 and 2.

58. More companions so that every race and every class has representation.

59. Elves act more elven. Halsin and Astarion can have conversations in Elvish. Arnell is not confused by Shadowheart choosing her own name.

60. Free healing by Halsin. He is a world-renowned healer and would be great to see him use it more. Also, more shown of him researching medical conditions, helping sick/injured civilians in Baldur's Gate, etc.

61. The Shadow Curse breaks as soon as Ketheric dies or Thaniel and Oiver are reunited, whichever comes later, so the player can see the lands not influenced by the curse. Move the cutscene that plays on leaving the lands to this point, just without the bit of the party leaving the land.

62. Ability to save Art Cullagh so he won't die shortly after the game ends.

63. After you defend Halsin's portal, you get to play a side-quest where Halsin fights through the Shadowfell, finds Thaniel, and fights his way back. OR, you can delegate the portal defense to your other party members, and join Halsin in the Shadowfell to help him find Thaniel.

64. Introduce a weather system and a day/night system.

65. When you knock out a character using non-lethal attacks, the character is actually treated as alive, letting it be used outside of Minthara, Minsc, and Alfira.

66. Scene of Withers telling the players who he really is. Dark Urge players can become Withers' Chosen after they reject Bhaal, while Tav and non-Shadowheart Origins can be it from earlier on, maybe a scene early in act 2, and Shadowheart can be it after turning from Shar.

67. The Dark Urge's Urge manifests in battle, causing them to sometimes waste an action torturing a victim who's already been downed, or to turn hostile on allied characters.

68. More references to the Dark Urge being chronically ill as a result of their brain injury- this is brought up periodically in act 1 and then dropped for the most part. This could even lead to scenes of romanced characters comforting them when they have a headache or fainting spells.

69. More intra-party conflicts besides SH and Lae'zel, and the possible Halsin-Minthara ultimatum. Let the evil characters get angry at Gale for wasting magical items and try to kick him out.

70. Implement the Halsin-Minthara ultimatum, but don't make it an ultimatum; instead Halsin simply signals his intention to leave, and if you want him instead of Minthara, you bring up sending her away. Also make it clear that the Absolute still hunts Halsin for what happened in the Grove and for fighting Ketheric 100 years ago, showing that even without a tadpole, he has stakes in this too. Also make it clearer that Minthara is severely triggering his past trauma with all her pro-slavery talk, possibly causing him to gain a status debuff if he's near her. That way people will stop demonizing Halsin there will be more of a feeling of balance in the ultimatum.

71. Ability to rescue children (particularly the orphaned ones in act 3) and bring them back to camp for Halsin and/or Jaheira to mother.

72. When you're in the final battle, the companions who aren't fighting at your side are instead on a sidequest evacuating the city and fighting the midnflayers who are terrorizing the citizens. Alternatively, just for this one battle, you can bring all your recruited companions with you (it would certainly help make that courtyard fight more balanced if you aren't using invisibility potions).

73. Platonic paths get just as much weight as romantic ones. You can become Karlach's best friend forever and go on friendly outings with her. You can train with Lae'zel. Etc.

74. Setting for romance/sexual encoutners/offers to be turned off entirely.

75. Explorer difficulty allows you to multiclass still.

76. More quests for evil players.

77. Every romanceable character has at least one action that will cause them to break up with you, and every companion has one that will cause them to leave the party (outside of sinking approval to -40).

78. Option to turn on a "confirm action" button, so that accidentally clicking on an item in red that's right next to a communal use item doesn't get you aggro'd.

79. Optional choice to add in random encounters.

80. Reintroduce class-specific tadpole powers from Early Access.

81. Ability to help people in the city more; you can offer refugees shelter at your camp, feed or pay all beggars, etc. Telling the rich they suck for not helping is great but I want to be able to do more.

82. Sidequest for that Druid who's trying to save the dying tree in Baldur's Gate, ideally with special Halsin and Jaheira interactions.

83. More conversations like the one with Halsin and Jaheira in act 2, where controlling a character lets you talk to another and unlock special dialogues you don't otherwise get.

84. The circus is now a proper carnival, including magic-fueled rides, treatos, and a tunnel of love. Also, the Bhaalists are trying to interfere with the rides and get people killed, which you have to stop.

85. You have the option to tell owlbear cub that you don't want to give him the potion to make him grow faster because he deserves to stay a cub and grow naturally.

86. You can give companions little gifts, like SH with the night orchid. You can give Halsin his pipe back.

87. You can choose to join a companion in the endgame even if you haven't romanced them. You can move to Halsin's commune or keep Astarion company in the Underdark.

88. Ability to evict companions from your camp at any time, with a corresponding chewing out from the companions who stayed unless you have a really good reason for it.

89. Bring back the datamined bits where companions who left your party would later show up in the courtyard battle, tadpoled (if not already) and under the Absolute's control. (Maybe with a scene showing how it happened, including the tadpoling for Halsin and Jaheira who wouldn't have been infected before).

90. Bring back the datamined scenes from the morphic pool where the netherbrain would make the party have hallucinations corresponding to their insecurities. Including the option to comfort them after, especially your romanced partner.

91. Optional ability to cook meals yourself, maybe with a little cooking minigame like Pokemon has. Different foods can give you different status benefits the next day.

92. Ability to travel back to any act at any time before the final point of no return.

93. Act 1's point of no return is either entering the Underdark or the Mountain Pass, or entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but not either entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands from the Underdark or entering the Mountain Pass.

94. A gardening mechanic for edible plants and such would be fun, so you could have a steady supply of camp supplies and certain alchemy ingredients. Especially mushrooms since Minthara literally has her own mushroom farm.

95. Camp library so you can keep all your books, notes, and letters in one space to read without cluttering up your traveller's chest.

96. Alternatively, there are multiple traveller's chests for different items. Armors and weapons in one, scrolls, potions and other magical items in another, food and alchemy supplies in another, etc.

97. Ability to take care of and comfort characters who've been poisoned, infected with contagion, etc.

98. Let Halsin, SH, and the player cuddle more animals.

99. Every class gets a unique camp follower a la the Oathbreaker Knight.

100. Vendor of common things (animal speaking potions, some alchemy ingredients, camp supplies) in camp for the whole game.

[deluxe-rabbitsu]

[Reference 1] – [Reference 2] – [Reference 3]

Another reference done...I think I'm up to date with the outfits, my wrist hurts aaa

I struggled so bad with patterns and small details, why is it so hard to design clothes 😭?

I'm honestly so glad that I did an effort to design some of them beforehand, I just had to make it fit on the chibi and that took lots of work of my shoulders...but the ones that are more recent I almost DIED,,I searched for references everywhere and tried racking my brain for something cute but fitting...

I am pleased with the result...now I have to wait until there's other outfit available to design it. Now I can rest ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

[vasyandii]

PHAYVANH "NAK" SOTSVAHN 🐉🌺

Old Introduction

Nak Reference Sheet

Nak IRL Gear References

NSFW Alphabet (TREAD LIGHTLY)

GENERAL INFORMATION

Status: ACTIVE

Year of Birth: 2000 (Aged 20)

Day of Birth: September 13

Place of Birth: Vientiane, Laos

Race: Lao

Nationality: Laotian

Languages Spoken: Lao, Thai, English, Russian

Occupation: Tactical Assault Operator, Close Quarters Combat Specialist (Chimera Member)

Affiliation(s):

Golden Triangle Cartel (Formerly)

Lao People's Armed Forces (Formerly; Dishonorably Discharged)

Allegiance

Chimera

Physical Appearance

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Height: 5’2”/159 cm

Build: Lean Muscular

Scars: None

Tattoos/ Markings: Large tattoos on left upper and Center of back

BIOGRAPHY

Born in Vientiane, Laos. Living the first 15 years of her life off her uncle's fortune, partaking in the trafficking of illicit narcotics at a young age. The two were close due to them being family, not having many friends due to her uncle's line of work.

Enlisted in the LPAF by her Uncle's wishes to "Carve a better path for herself". Was not liked by her peers for her cocky attitude, overly aggressive tactics, and habit of prioritizing her personal safety over the team.

After 3 years of service in the LPAF, excelling in Close Quarters Combat, dishonorably discharged due to repeated physical altercations among teammates. Spent the next 6 months back to working for Kapano Vang despite his reluctance, eventually fleeing to Urzikstan after an argument with Vang about difference in beliefs, multiple people injured; their relationship has been strained ever since.

During her time her path crossed with Nikolai, in search of work she signed a long term contract with Chimera, with one year of service.

Shown to exhibit signs of social anxiety and difficulty forming close relationships around people her age. Inherited Kapano Vang's short temper in combat, though more relaxed outside of it.

Developed a bond with Syd, seeing her as an older sister. Often paired up with Sebastian Krueger in order to keep them both in line.

Skills and Abilities

Fighting Style: Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

Weapon(s): Whatever is heavy

Distinct Weapon: SCAR FN PDW, Dual Push Blades

Shortcomings: Overly aggressive tactics, focus on personal safety, short temper

Family

Familial Status: Adoptive Niece

Siblings: None

Mother: Adoptive sister of Kapano Vang; (whereabouts unknown, records not found/withheld)

Uncle: Kapano “Naga” Vang; (Former warlord drug trafficker, formerly in Warsaw Pact)

Relationship with Family: Nak still idolizes her uncle to an extent, but the more that she's out in the world,the more she realizes that he isn't a good person. Nak’s mother wasn’t present in life. Her uncle took her in after mother wasn’t able to care for her. Naga trained her at a very young age; he thought it was best if she was strong in their lifestyle.

Pet: Cat person, never was allowed to have pets but she would throw scraps of food to strays.

PERSONALITY

Myers Briggs Type: ESTJ-T

Nak is an extroverted introvert, she likes and enjoys talking to people, however it drains her energy quickly since she's not used to talking to people in such a casual manner. Things like talking business she’s more used to.

Adaptable

A quick thinker, Nak is able to carry out missions by finding creative solutions to make sure her operations are successful. Outside of the battlefield her adaptability allows her to have better communication with people, even with her social anxiety.

Pragmatic

Nak strives to make the most effective solutions so it’s easier on her in the future. Her decision making skills ensure that she’ll survive in the field and outside of it.

Responsible

Living on her own, Nak is responsible, she can’t relax unless all her work is done beforehand. As she starts forming close relationships with people, she realizes that she likes taking care of people.

Negative Traits

Stubborn

Starting out Nak isn’t a very good teamplayer. She doesn’t like others telling her what to do or how to do things so she’s stubborn in a way that she’s adamant about what she wants but adaptable with what methods are needed.

Judgemental

Her formative years with Naga didn’t allow her to trust people, because of the Golden Triangle Cartel she has a habit of being overly critical of others.

Paranoid Perfectionist

Nak is self-demanding, she doesn’t take failure lightly. This leads to her paranoia of not being properly prepared. She becomes aggressive out of frustration if her ability isn’t to her liking.

TRIVIA

Nak is a shortened version of “phayanak” the mythical water serpent in Laos, it’s also the Lao pronunciation of “Naga” which is her Uncle’s name in the field.

Her face paint draws reference to how snake teeth are shown in Phayanak statues. There are multiple snake motifs in her design. Is the design practical? No, she just likes standing out in that way.

Nak cuts her own bangs (long blunt bangs) she doesn’t trust anyone with cutting them.

Has a lot of upper body and lower body strength; she can lift things heavier than her and calisthenics skills (handstands, full planches, etc.)

Often, most people's First impressions of her is that she's "Unsettling."

[gremoria411]

How to get into Gundam

Because fuck it, I was gonna do one of these sooner or later anyway.

So you want to know what this Gundam thing’s about, maybe you like the mecha design, maybe you caught part of an episode one time and want to catch up, or maybe you saw a nice piece of Chamuro fanart and want to go to the source.

But there’s so many shows and timelines that it can be quite daunting on first look, so this guide is intended to give a rough overview.

I would however like to stress two four things beforehand however:

This guide is not intended as “The One True Way” or anything. There’s no harm it coming into it a different way, and these are only my own opinions.

There’s nothing stopping you from just watching one show and leaving it there. You don’t have to watch every single show going, even I’ve only seen most of these, not all. Gundam typically has variations on similar themes - it’s very nice watching multiple shows because they complement one another, but it’s not necessarily required.

I am very much an insider looking out here, so let me know if there’s any details I’ve missed.

I’m not gonna recommend these on a “if you like X, then watch Y basis”, mostly because I don’t personally find genre recommendations helpful, so I’d recommend picking based on promotional material (vibes, if you will).

I’ll be using this chart, supplied by the excellent@l-crimson-l, to illustrate everything.

Gundam as a whole can principally be divided into three sections: Universal Century (or UC), the Alternate Universes (AU’s) and the Build Series.

The AU’s are below the light blue line, near the bottom of the Chart, the Build Series is within the bright green line at the top-right corner of the chart and UC is the big line in the middle. We’ll talk about each of them individually.

The AU’s

The Alternate Universes were conceived as a way to get away from the continuity-heavy nature of Universal Century and provide an easy jumping-on point for new fans. The AU’s are standalone and require no prior knowledge, and are thus an excellent place to start. Honestly, I’d recommend quickly searching some promotional materials (like posters) and just going with the one you find most appealing based on that. They are (in production order):

Mobile Fighter G Gundam (1994)

New Mobile Report Gundam Wing (1995)

After War Gundam X (1996)

Turn A Gundam (1999)

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED (2002)

Mobile Suit Gundam 00 (2007)

Mobile Suit Gundam AGE (2011)

Gundam: Reconguista in G (2014)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Blooded Orphans (2015)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (2022)

There’s side series and movies and other things besides, but these are the mainline shows, if you will. I have specific notes on a few of them:

Witch From Mercury - It’s of a shorter length than is usual for mainline shows, so consequently it’s a much smaller time investment than the others.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam - While undeniably rad as hell, I would recommend watching another AU first. G Gundam differs from its stablemates in a few key areas, and I find it helps to have a contrast to fully appreciate those differences.

Gundam AGE - is probably the only one I wouldn’t recommend. I didn’t like the art style and the technical explanations just got on my nerves, so I stopped watching.

Turn A and G-Reconguista are technically part of UC as well, but it’s not really crucial information so don’t feel like you have to watch UC first (I’m only including this detail for completionism).

I’ve found all the AU’s I’ve seen to be pretty good, so I’d say that which one you start with really just comes down to personal taste.

The Build Series

Is just kind of doing its own thing. The Build series is basically Buy Our Toys: the series. It’s got a far lighter tone, and I’ve had cause to compare it to pokemon prior. It’s also chock full of references and in-jokes to the other series.

Build Fighters and Build Fighters Try are the ones I’d recommend - they’ve got actual stakes and the fight scenes are really good.

Build Divers and Build Divers Re:rise I can’t recommend - I just find Build Divers aggressively boring. Build Divers Re:Rise is just okay - neither standout good or particularly bad. Its main flaw is that it’s a sequel to Build Divers.

The OVA’s are pretty much bad across the board - I’d particularly recommend avoiding Gundam Build Metaverse.

Universal Century

Universal Century is the big main timeline of Gundam, and is the timeline the original Mobile Suit Gundam from 1979 takes place in. There’s a tendency among certain fans to place UC as the one-above-all of Gundam, but I wouldn’t really go that far. It’s all pretty good, but I wouldnt really say one timeline is better than another (save personal preference, anyway).

Because UC is so big, it can be subdivided a couple times. The primary division is “Mainline” UC versus everything else. Basically there’s four-five shows in Universal Century from which everything else flows. As long as you know roughly what happens in these shows, then you can watch basically anything else in UC and have a good idea of what’s going on. These are (in order):

Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) - sometimes called Mobile Suit Gundam 0079.

Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam (1985)

Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ (1986)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack (1988)

With Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn (2010) as a nominal fifth (honestly I feel like you could argue either way).

The rest of the shows are:

Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket (1989 Three-Episode OVA)

Mobile Suit Gundam F91 (1991 Movie)

Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory (1991 Thirteen-episode OVA)

Mobile Suit Victory Gundam (1993)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team (1999 Twelve-episode OVA)

G-Saviour (2000 Live Action Movie) - nobody ever talks about or acknowledges this one, it’s just here for completionism.

Mobile Suit Gundam MS Igloo (2004-2009 Three OVA’s with three Episodes each)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin (2015 Six-Episode OVA, adapted from the Manga of the same name)

Mobile Suit Gundam Thunderbolt (2015 Eight-Episode Series, adapted from the Manga of the same name)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Twilight Axis (2017 episode, adapted from a light novel of the same name. Later rereleased as Gundam Twilight Axis Red Trace, with additional footage)

Mobile Suit Gundam Narrative (2018 sequel movie to Gundam Unicorn)

Mobile Suit Gundam Hathaway (2021 ongoing movie series, very much adapted from the novel Hathaway’s Flash)

Most of the other series relate to events in the aforementioned “mainline” shows in some way, but a lot of the sidestories set during the One Year War require very little introduction (Thunderbolt, 0080 and 08th MS Team). Similarly, works set in “Late UC” (F91 and Victory Gundam) carry on from the other series thematically but don’t have any plot connections, so they can all be watched without any background knowledge of the rest of the Universal Century.

Compilation Movies

Just a quick note here - many of the Gundam series have compilation movies, where either a whole series or part of one are compressed down into a movie. While each movie compares differently, they usually boil down to this: Compilation Movies usually have worse pacing, but really nice animation.

One of the great things about Gundam is that different shows offer variations on themes, so seeing how different characters react to similar situations, or how different settings change their approaches can make it incredibly rewarding.

I haven’t seen enough of SD Gundam to make any sort of recommendations there, and Manga is something I might touch on another day.

EDIT: Oh hey also: You can watch a good chunk of these on YouTube, for free, officially. The Official Gundam.Info YouTube channel rotates the series shown on its channel periodically. I think it’s got F91 and SEED on there currently? But it’s had Wing, 00 and Witch From Mercury before. Also all of the Build Fighters series are there.

So yeah, that’s a thing.

[sundrop-writes]

Tongue Twister

Sub!Gar Logan x (Dom)GN!Reader

I wanna get you in a tongue twister - tied up in a tongue twister.

Summary:

You and Gar run into each other in the dark halls of Wayne Manor one night. He finds that he just can't resist your touch.

Or: You quite literally try to suck Gar's soul out through his cock, and he definitely doesn't stop you.

Sub!Gar Logan x (Dom)Gender Neutral Reader. Friends to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set (vaguely) during Season 3.

Word Count: 2,000

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This is pretty much just straight smut/pwp (there is basically no plot); I say that it's 'loosely' set in Season 3 because there is a mention of the Titans staying at Wayne Manor and I was inspired by S3 Gar, but there's no plot spoilers for S3 and you don't need to have seen Titans for this to make sense (this is just hot smut about my favourite hot guy); there is slight dom/sub dynamics - Gar is somewhat submissive (he likes being manhandled and put in his place), and the reader is somewhat dominant in that they take control of Gar and take what they want; this is a blowjob fic - so, the reader is giving Gar a (very messy) blowjob; the reader's gender is not mentioned or described in any way; the main pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; slight nipple play (Gar receiving); (in terms of the canon, Gar's experience is very debatable, but I don't imagine this to be virgin!Gar, at the very least, this is inexperienced!Gar); slight crying kink - mentions of Gar crying from overstimulation and the reader enjoying it; mentions of deepthroating - the reader takes Gar's dick all the way down with no issues (unrealistic, but that happens in fics sometimes); slight manhandling (from the reader toward Gar) (but nothing to state that the reader has super impressive strength); the reader swallows Gar's cum; multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Gar receiving); I don't think I would call this dubcon, but maybe under-negotiated kink? because they didn't discuss overstimulation beforehand, but Gar still likes it; passing mention of Gar masturbating while thinking about the reader; slight ball play and slight anal play (again, all Gar receiving) and using spit as lube in the process; I think that's it for this fic? Anyway - enjoy!

A/N: I have said this before, but sometimes a tiktok edit just distinctly inspires the vibes of a fic. And I woke up the other day and searched 'Gar Logan edit' because I needed to see my boy, and then I found this amazing edit - and I got the idea stuck in my head that I needed to do a fic of S3 Gar (which is my favourite Gar) - getting the sloppiest head of all time. Cause that is what a Tongue Twister means to me. I later found the full song to listen to it, and for reference it's called Tongue Twister by Cash Cash, so that is the song that this fic is named after. It is just very straightforward pwp smut, because I love writing that about Gar lmao. I love seeing him whining and pathetic (and overstimulated). So, here you go! I hope you guys have fun with this, even if you're reading this as someone who has never seen Titans before.

...

Gar had no clue how he ended up in this situation. 

It was a fucking amazing situation to be in. But still, the whole thing puzzled him. (Well, it would if he had any brain power to think about it at this current moment.) 

This whole thing started when he had woken up hungry. Which, wasn’t entirely unusual for him. Doctor Caulder said that his transformations and his ‘condition’ in general caused him to burn more calories than the average person - not nearly as much as someone like Rita, but definitely more than he used to before his genes mutated. Even on a vegetarian diet, he craved a lot of junk food, which he ate. And he didn’t seem to gain a lot of weight because of this part of his condition. And he often found himself woken in the middle of the night by a rumbling stomach. 

On his way back from the kitchen with a stomach full of nutella and banana sandwiches, he noticed a gentle glow coming from the library of Wayne Manor. He was much more awake than he had been when he had first stumbled to the kitchen, so he had decided to investigate it. He wondered who else was awake at this hour. 

It was you. Apparently doing some late night reading. 

A lot happened very quickly then. 

You reached out and thumbed a large glob of nutella off the side of his mouth, and told him that he was adorable, and delicious. And you stared him right in the eyes while you licked it off your finger - mentioning that you loved his choice to go without a shirt as you removed the now spit-soaked digit from your mouth, looking him up and down with undeniable heat in your eyes. 

Gar felt so utterly trapped. (In the best way possible.) 

That spit-wet thumb made its way to touching his bare nipple, and when he let out an uncontrollable, absolutely loud whimper - he was done. 

That was how he ended up like this. 

This wild and wicked situation being that he was currently getting the best blowjob of his life. And he never would have expected that he would ever be on the receiving end of something sexual from you (he could have only hoped) - so finding out that you could give the most mind-blowing head - well fuck, it was really something. 

You had pushed him down to sit in the middle of the couch in front of the warm glow of the fireplace and stripped him of his loose sleep pants. This left him completely naked, pinned down by your demanding touch and the suction of your mouth on his hard cock. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god!” 

He remembered protesting at some point. Maybe. 

If he did, it was only on the basis that the two of you might get caught. The library was a well trafficked area of the ridiculously large house. It was a quick route to get to the kitchen from the set of bedrooms that the Titans had been staying in, rather than walking through some decommissioned ‘sitting rooms’ with creepy, dusty old furniture in them. Gar could only imagine how embarrassing it would be if someone like Dick or Dawn (someone he looked up to and admired) caught him with his pants down like this. 

Not that he was even capable of embarrassment with how much lust was currently throbbing through him. But it would definitely be embarrassing when he thought about it later. 

“Please, please! More!” 

But - all those thoughts easily leaked out of his ears, and those half-baked protests died off in his throat when he felt just how perfect your mouth was on his cock. The wet, warm suction of your lips around his shaft and the way you bobbed your head into such an easy rhythm, forming hot-white streaks of pleasure all across his cock. It was all too good to try and stop it. 

When the head of his large, thick cock hit the back of your throat - he choked out a whine, seeing stars split out across his vision for a moment. You were exceedingly talented at this. 

It was partially ‘talent’, and partially the fact that you truly did want to consume him. 

Every single little moan he let out, every pathetic, sweet whimper - it only spurred you on, made you want to see more. More of the way his stomach quaked when he tried to hold it in, more of feeling his thigh muscles desperately shake under your hands when you traced your tongue under the head of his cock. More pretty tears flowing from his big brown eyes as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge. More of him staring down at you in awe as you played his body like an instrument you had mastered in minutes. 

“Oh god! Oh! Oh - mmm,” 

Fueled by lustful hunger and an attraction for Gar that you had since the day you had met him, you continued on, fucking his cock with your mouth in an utterly unforgiving way. You sucked down the length of his cock and didn’t seem to care as the round cockhead hit the back of your throat, bruising it - your desperation only growing as your oxygen was cut off by the thickness of his shaft. In fact, you let out a moan of your own as his thick green pubes brushed against your nose and you inhaled his natural scent. 

The vibrations shook his cock and that only contributed to the insane pleasure he was feeling. 

Gar felt like he was slowly losing his mind. 

His hands were gripping the couch cushions wildly, finding it too rude and imposing to simply reach out and grab your hair or reach for the back of your head. Even while you handled him like he was simply a toy for your enjoyment, he couldn’t bring himself to return the favor. 

So he sat like a good boy, letting you pin him down and suck the life out of his cock. 

(Not that he wasn’t enjoying every single second of it.) 

“Oh, fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” 

Gar began chanting, begging in a needy voice that he barely recognized as his own. 

You easily picked up to a brutal pace - gulping down his cock so quickly that it made a sloppy noise with each quick movement, taking him from root to tip within seconds. This made your head practically blur, easily coating his dick in spit and making his skin shine with your wicked efforts.

You sucked his cock so roughly, it was like you were trying to suck something out of him. As if you were trying to obtain some source of life that would magically be drained from his balls if you tried hard enough. 

(In your mind, it was something similar to that. You were desperate to taste his cum. And his perfect noises were supplying your life in a way, so you definitely wanted more.) 

You slurped viciously against his skin, bobbing your head up and down, creating an odd juxtaposition between the very slight roughness of your tongue and the slick flood of your spit whenever you would bob back down. His cock soon became sensitive and his thighs shook - when his legs flexed up toward your head upon instinct, his muscles tightening from all of the strain, you dug your nails into the quivering skin of his thighs and shoved him back down, holding him in place. 

“Y/N!” 

He wailed your name, crying out much louder than he had intended to. 

When he looked down, he made eye contact with you, you stared back with nothing but fierceness and commanding in your eyes. You owned him and you knew it. Even from a position on your knees, you knew that you were in charge. 

His entire body shook with dizziness under the force - flooded with endorphins at being handled so roughly by you. 

Gar’s orgasm was pulled from him forcefully, brought on like a slap in the face at the realization that he loved being pinned under your touch.

“Please, please, oh, oh!” 

Gar heard that lilting, whiny voice and barely recognized it as his own. He felt the air being punched out of his stomach before he realized that he was cumming into your mouth. He thought that surely you would be satisfied by this - that you would be done because he had cum. So he simply rode it out as you hallowed your cheeks and sucked even harder on his sensitive cock. Even making the head aching and raw as you traced your tongue around it and pumped him into your mouth while his stomach shook and he practically gargled his own spit. 

But in that fraction of a moment that he thought you might be done - no. You simply continued on. 

With his cum still lingering on your tongue, you dove back down, not giving him a moment to get soft under your touch. You swallowed his length once again, and he let out a wounded cry as his dick hit the back of your throat once again. His thighs flexed and shook and you left large claw marks in him, fighting him, trying to hold him still. 

He felt hot tears streaking down his face and he knew that this was the most perfect kind of torture - the most beautiful purgatory - being here with your perfect, hot mouth around his cock, seemingly attempting to devour him while he had to sit there and take it. 

“Oh god.” 

He let out another cry and all you did was reach over and begin to stroke his balls. The skin there was already slick with spit that had dripped down from your mouth, and the touch spewed fire up through his gut and caused him to wail out crooked breaths as his vision blurred with more tears. You were so perfect between his thighs - like you knew every single thing to do in order to drive him closer to the edge of insanity. 

Whenever he had imagined you before, he imagined you soft - he had thought of making love to you when he snuck a private moment with his hand around his cock. He always imagined candles and romantic music and gentle kisses all over your body. But he never could have imagined you like this. So fucking filthy. But now, he couldn’t imagine you any other way. 

You moved your fingers down from his balls, reaching your spit-soaked fingertips down to kiss against his against his hole - and just the slight threat of those fingertips pressing into him, touching such a sensitive spot, had another orgasm barreling through him like he had been struck by lighting. 

You sucked the cum out of him like you were greedy for it, like it would restore the very life to you - this time, Gar was sure that not a single streak of it even got to touch your tongue. When he felt the harsh pin-pricks of overstimulation coating his cock, he desperately gulped for breath, searching for words. 

“Please, please!” He cried out. “I can’t - ngh - no more!” 

You moved your hands to gently rub across his thighs, and you finally pulled back so that his cock fell from your mouth with a wet pop - falling to sit on his stomach, so spit-slick and red, glistening in the low lighting, entirely sloppy and messy. 

He was the most lovely mess above you. Tear streaks coming from his eyes, wet and messy eyelashes almost obscuring his perfect doe gaze down toward you. His face was entirely flushed, all the way down to his chest, making his skin the prettiest shade of pink - matching his parted, panting lips. His thighs were covered in bright red claw marks from your nails, and you couldn’t be prouder than knowing that he would be wearing those the next day - a reminder of you under his clothes, a little something stinging against the fabric to really drive home what had happened here. 

He was so perfect like this. 

You knew for certain that this wouldn’t be the last time you had him like this. (You would crave him too badly after this.) 

“You’re cute.” You remarked, giving him a smirk with your raw lips. 

Gar would be lying if he said that the slightly condescending comment didn’t make his entirely tired dick jump with interest.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot, so I will not be writing a sequel or a 'part 2' of it. However, if you liked this fic, definitely check out Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop) - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader or Not A Good Time - Gar Logan x GN!Reader which are similar fics to this one! Or you can check out the entirety of my Titans Masterlist for more fics written by me. And remember, reblogging and commenting is always helpful to support fanfic writers <3

[notjuststardust]

Trellises Lawxchronic pain reader

Reader is having a low spoons and high pain day and doctor Law comes to the rescue! Pure fluff. This is self-indulgent, specifically catered toward those with scoliosis but I thought it was cute so I wanted to share! Just Law and reader being good friends who have eyes for eachother is all.

TW: None

The minute you started scribbling with your non dominant hand Law knew something was wrong. You’d been quiet, a trait normally foreign to your bubbly soft natured self. Your silence could mean an array of things but he had a list of possibilities. 

 He saw your sunken lids, how they dragged the life from your plump cheekbones all the way down to the blank stare you have the work in front of you. If you were menstruating you’d be snacking and there was nothing in your mouth other than the kiss of teeth.

 Propping chin in hand Law tilts his head in your direction, eyes lasered in on your shoulder at rest. A shoulder you had constant trouble with due to surgeries as a kid. “I didn’t know you were left handed.” He comments, not even trying to feign the sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Slowly, you looked up at him through lowered lashes (y/e/c) eyes void of mischief.

 “I’m not.” He puffs out a dwarfed scoff, standing from his chair to ease over to your end. 

 “Have you been sleeping?” He furthers, stalking over to face you, brows propped but you back away from his nearing inquisition. These conversations were never fun.

 “Yes.” You answer, evading his eyes to deter his advance but your Captain isn’t allowing that, at least not today and you could tell by the annoyed jut of his lip when he reigned to continue. “6 hours. Yes, I’m drinking water. No, I have not pooped. I took 600 mg’s of ibuprofen and the pain level is an 8 out of 10.” You decide to relent and Law is forced to shut his gaping mouth.

 You’d definitely prepared that beforehand. His shoulders slack, drawing toward the medicine cabinet in the far corner. He knows better than to ask why you hadn’t brought it up earlier, you just didn’t want to ‘bother’ him. He could argue but you were past the point of reason and teetering on the edge of crying out.

 Now wasn’t the time for one of his ‘talks’.

 Propping open the medicine cabinet he searches, body turned to watch in case there was something else you’d been hiding. He flicks through your prescriptions once, twice, three times before he concludes the prescription you needed wasn’t here.

 Great.

 “Did you put in a refill request?” Your captain drags a hand over his face, pinching the square of his jaw when he peers over at you hunched at his desk. You just stare at him before flitting your gaze toward the door, heaving a sigh and shaking your head. 

 “I can’t work if I’m on the muscle relaxers. I just wanted pain meds.” You mutter as Law barely restrains an annoyed growl. Even so his teeth grind making you turn away just enough to inform him you were appeasing him instead of advocating.

 “That’s the whole point of them. It calms the muscle to make the inflammation go down,” he explains despite your medical knowledge on this matter, after all you had this conversation over a year ago but you were stubborn as a mule when it came to making yourself useful. “I need my scribe in working condition.” He grumbles, pulling a tube of pain reliever from your cubby. 

 You quiet as he approaches, aware that he’s never referred to you as ‘his scribe’ in his entire life, it was silent endearment to persuade you to be honest. Yet you weren’t sure if you had the heart to be right now.

 “I am working though.” You twirl your pen in your non dominant hand, trying and failing to demonstrate the lovely penmanship he so admired you for. Letting out a frustrated sigh Law plucks the utensil from your hand and pops it down into his pen jar, gloving up as if he’s about ready for surgery as he cautiously eyes you over.

 You were delicate now. Robbed of good rest and swollen with inflammation however if he didn’t step into his role you’d give until your altar was empty of offerings.

 He wasn’t your God but you had always served him and everyone else around you as greater than yourself. This was no different and he couldn’t bare to do nothing about it this time

 “Consider yourself on temporary leave then.” He fails to break eye contact in time, but he catches the heartbreak in his peripherals, raw and dependent on him taking it back.

 “Law, that’s not fair and you know it-“ you lunge to a stand before your hand shields your shoulder, breaking that confidence. 

 “And you think working yourself to death is?” He forwards you, body pressuring you back into an appeasing sit in your chair. You don’t answer but your eyes glass and lets his fingers brush your hair over the opposing shoulder and tease your shirt so he can further inspect. “How long?” He asks though he doesn’t have to. It’s swollen like a balloon, redness spreading up the blade of your shoulder to the edge of your neck. He wants you to say it. To admit you’ve been purposefully neglecting yourself to care for everyone else but instead you give a pathetic sniffle before you quiver and break into sobs. Tears trickle down your cheeks and his irritants dissipates into a pool of sympathy only reserved for you.

 He tries to get out something, anything that would salve the emotional strain you had been burdened over but no amount of empathy can. He does not have the gift of easing your worries like you do him. If anything his words tend to be a blade to an already festering wound whilst yours carry a melodic ease to even his most persistent emotional aches. You could spin corpses back to life with your words, mold graves into gardens but he only had his hands.

So instead he rolls the numbing cream into the ball of your shoulder with soft thumbs, allowing you the courtesy of a moment to yourself despite the exposition of feelings you’d much rather keep locked up.

 It wasn’t your fault that a life saving surgery had left you on the verge of crippling and selfishly, he’d much rather this than your corpse. You’d only been 12 when your spine had started easing further and further into your heart, putting tension against the much needed organ. Metal had been fused into the bones of your spine to keep it straight and that pressure left a considerable strain on your lumbar. Not only that but there was no saving the oblong shift of your shoulders and hips due to the scoliosis.

 With that considered you still wanted to be involved, helpful to Law and the crew when your pain had started in the following years. You were a writer and you refused to live your life only in the pages of stories spun with sweet words. You wanted to experience life and even your captain, persistent and logistic as he was, hadn't been able to deter you from your quest.

 You quiet at his silent affection, thinking it nothing more than something he has to do for his job but Law knows its more than that. He could have just tossed you the gloves and allowed you to apply the ointment yourself but he wanted to be of service as more then a doctor if even for a moment. He wanted to be of comfort and it must have worked because your tears quieted and you relaxed into his touch.

 After all if he voiced that he could have made you do it you would have because you don’t accept outside help.

 Hence why any accommodations he had strung for you in the Polar Tang went among the unsaids in the submarine. Normal chairs bothered you yet you had one so Law had instructed Bepo to test it. The thing shattered into broken splintered in minutes and Law hiding behind the guise of a safety check had promised to get you another. What came in the mail though was not a normal chair though. The thing was practically a throne, spun together by chiropractic plush to nurture your back when you used it. When the complexities were mentioned Law had just said it was on sale. You hadn’t questioned it further. After that he had allowed Shachi and Penguin access to your bathroom where they practically made the shower go up in smoke, since it now needed repairs. Law had a sit down shower with a sneaky call button in case you may ever need it. The subtleties did not go so unnoticed with that one and Law had to then install special buttons to all bathrooms from the suggestion of Penguin and Shachi.

 You had always had suspicions but never proof and you were smarter then to question your captain based on pure assumption.

 “I’ll call in your refill. The earliest it will be here is tomorrow-” Your stillness hushes him, the weight of your cheek just a little too heavy against his knuckles as a little snore slips between your lips. He blinks, leaning up and over to see your mouth wide open and teary eyes slid shut. An impressed ‘hmm’ whisps between his teeth, a grin imperceptible etching into his lips. That's until he realizes if he moves an inch yu’ll wake. He ponders the notion of moving anyway and getting you comfortable on a cot but decides otherwise when he realizes the peace settled on your face.In the end he stays. 1 hour. Then 2 and footsteps explode down the hallway like thunder, the office door squealing open with Shachi in its mirror.

 “Captain come on! Dinners read-” He pales like a corpse when Law glares death his way, nervously playing with his fingers as Penguin clops in behind him laughing obnoxiously about God knows what until he too mutes. They both stare at your compromising position, looking to eachother in silent laughter. Well, it wouldn’t have been compromising if it wasn’t you.

 There's drool all over Law’s hand, he’s shimmying like some old man trying to get his back ache to go away. Nonetheless he's frozen, steely eyes set in a glacial glare as he quiets out an annoyed sigh. His crewmmates nonsense quiets.”Oh, so she finally told you.” Shachi hums, quarreling with a grin but the intonation gives away his cheekiness.

 “Not necessarily,” Law groans, swallowing a blush. “You all knew?” He quirks a curious brow.

 “Wild guess.” Penguin hums with an easy shrug, forcing an awkward smile.

 “You know that probably even worse for her back, right?” Shachi comments, pointing a finger in his sleeping crewmates direction. Law just gawks, he hadn’t thought your crumple of sleep would leave you feeling worse upon wakeness then none at all. Clearing his throat he scoops his fingers under and up your armpits trying to scoop you safely into his arms. 

 “Of course I knew that-” Law quiets his rambling when you spurt out a snort. You release a gargantuan yawn. He points and shooes his crewmates that scramble into the hallway but its too late. Your lids are shot open as you smack your lips like a child. Shachi and Penguin make a break for it.

 “Know what?” You babble out, eyes alight with the familiar childlike mischief. Sleep had refreshed you well. He threads a rough hand through his hair, a heavy sigh slipping.

 “You were sleeping in a position that could compromise your back. I was trying to move you.” He removes the hand resting upon your cheek, trying to discard the soaked glove without your notice. “You really need to be more careful, he scolds when he sees you give him a dopey grin, ignoring his feign of casuality. You look more than stupid, like there are no thoughts behind your eyes, only joy at the mere prospect that his hunchback was caused by holding you up. You’re satisfied as a cat that's knocked over a glass and usually that’d only egg him on but it only forced him to sigh.

 At least you weren’t crying anymore. Your smugness couldn’t taint that.

“Did I drool?” 

 “Immensely.” He rolls his eyes, tossing the glove into the trash as you cackle.

 “You been standing there long?” You further, chaos winding you into a smile of all teeth, dimples peeking out like the sun through a rainy storm.

 “Long enough.” He groans lightly, a hint of a smirk on his face as he returns your prescription to the medicine cabinet. Then you look toward the clock and realize its been 2 hours. You bark out a laugh, nearly falling out of the office chair.

 “You didn’t move for 2 hours?” You snicker wildly and Law plops back into his chair, fingers caging away the blush pelting his cheeks as he looks away to mask embarrassment. “I have slept through raids before, Law.”

 “Shut up.” He grumbles, distracting himself with undone paperwork on his desk. “I moved my legs.”

 “You’re such a liar.” You shout with glee, lunging into a stand without help as you sniff the air. “Dinner time!” You lean over his desk just to spite him, sticking your tongue out before you hobble toward the door.

 “You’re still on temporary leave.” He reminds you with a stern glare, laced with affection at your silliness. He loathes becoming permeable but its far too comfortable when it's with you. You turn to look back at him as if contemplating taking his statement as a personal bullet but don’t, readjusting your back.

 “Uh-huh, doesn’t matter. I’ll never let you live it down!” You tease, skipping down the hallway as if you weren’t just in excruciating pain. You’re definitely about to tattle like some little kid and he is going to tolerate it until you inevitably find some other thing he does more strange.

 In summary, unless he told you otherwise (or you grew less dense), his little bits of affection would be the running joke of the dinner table.

[what-the-dark-has-foretold]

The Cure To My Stressful Nights Is You At My Mercy

Furuya x fem!reader

Long overdue for my dear Hades @villain-hotline based on this little drabble. I had your comment on how you needed a fic of him hunting and fucking his gf in my screenshots for so long 😭

Warnings: mdni, cnc, predator and prey themes, Furuya slaps you once, fear play?, rough sex, slight humiliation/objectification?, reader has prepped herself beforehand, the "she"s refers to her pussy btw, beginning of aftercare (it´s cut off, furuya would def draw you a bath and cook for you etc. after)

Wordcount: 800+

Your watched the door with bated breath. His steps were heavy - he was pissed, you could tell. You could hear him place his gun on the table, then the metal of his belt clicking open.

You shivered when he pulled the belt off, the leather snapping against the air.

"C´mon sweetheart, be good today." He wasn´t even trying to sound sweet to lull you into a sense of security. He was downright threatening you. Tears hung against your lashes when his steps stilled before your bedroom door. A whimper escaped you and your eyes widened. You slapped your hands on your mouth, pressing your fingers into your cheeks to prevent more sounds. But you already knew it was futile. You had already lost. A sob racked through your body when he violently pulled you out of the closet.

"There you are," he hummed, but his voice was drenched in cruelty. He held your chin tight, yanking your face upwards, forcing you to look at him. He raised his eyebrows at the pitiful sight before him.

"You already knew I had a bad day, hmm?" He gently brushed away some tears with his other hand. Then, he leaned forward, until his hot breath fanned over your wet face. "You really should have run faster, sweetheart."

He all but threw you on the bed, forcing your clothes off immediately after, fully ignoring your pitiful whimpers and cries. He was exhausted and stressed, that was all. Couldn´t you see? Didn´t you want to help him?

"I want you to scream today," he rasped against your ear, smiling when he felt you shiver underneath him. He quickly reached down to pull himself out of his pants, groaning when he pressed his length against your drooling little pussy. He chuckled. Of course she was drooling, she knows him well after all. Well enough, to tell that he needed a pretty girl to hunt down. His short messages already having told her all she needed to know as he did not even reply to your sweet "I love you" text.

His cock slid in so easily, and your back arched when he filled you with a single thrust. Furuya gave you no time to relax, immediately plunging in and out of you without care. He could smell your juices on your fingers when they desperately searched for a hold as he kept on working his hips against yours in an unforgiving pace. His mind was clouded and all that existed to him in that moment was you; the way your face scrunched up in a mix of pain and pleasure and the little yelps that escaped your glossy lips whenever he thrust in harsh and deep as if trying to bruise you on the inside too.

You had stopped fighting back, he noticed suddenly. But the way you clawed at his back, completely overwhelmed by him was enough. Either way, you were broken for him, and he was determined to fuck you up even more.

He landed a slap against your cheek, delivering the hit alongside a particularly sharp thrust into your pussy. Your eyes opened suddenly, back arching and a scream leaving your lips. His toes curled at the sound and he couldn´t stop the guttural groan escaping him. He had trouble holding himself up as he kept up his brutal pace, hands gripping your sides so tight, bruises had already started to form.

With every inward thrust, he pulled your body to meet his hips, rendering you nothing more than his little sex doll.

He didn´t think he ever loved someone this much.

His back arched suddenly, and his hips stuttered. Furuya started to drive himself into you erratically, until finally he forced himself as deep as he could get, holding you still so he could pump his cum into you with hard thrusts without you escaping him.

He let you down abruptly, your body bouncing on the mattress, but crushed only a second later under his weight.

"You´re too heavy," you all but forced out of your throat, hurting from all the screams he had drawn out of you. He shivered at the sound as he started to run his hands up and down your sides. He chuckled when the pressure on the bruises - now darkened - made you flinch and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"You´re so mean to me. And you haven´t even answered my text," you pouted.

At that, Furuya pushed himself up, until for the first time this evening he looked into your eyes with utmost fondness.

"I love you, sweetheart, you know I do." He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he kept a hand on your cheek, gently caressing your skin. "Was I too much?"

You shook your head.

"Good." He seemed relieved, nodding to himself with his soft hair a mess and a blush covering his nose and cheeks.

"And you? Are you okay?"

His eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled.

"Of course baby," he kissed you again. "I´m always okay when I´m with you."

[italoniponic]

Someday We'll Meet Again | Neige Le Blanche

Synopsis: VDC day! Neige made it to NRC but he accidentally got lost inside the school. The more he wanders around the dark corridors, the more he feels inside a forest about to attack him. When he manages to reach the courtyard for air, he encounters you — the rescuer he needed to calm down. And maybe something more.

Neige Le Blanche x reader / hurt & comfort / fluff / lots of Snow White (1937) references / tw: little anxiety inducing in the beginning / 5,4k words / use of “you” pronouns / Masterlist

Someday We'll Meet Again

“I’m lost, completely lost,” Neige thought to himself, swallowing hard. All he saw were hallways and more hallways, black stone walls, lamps and students in black blazers and gym clothes going back and forth working on the internal preparations for the VDC.

When Neige was escorted into Night Raven College by a student from the organizing committee, the plan was that he and his seven little friends would be driven directly to the Coliseum where the competition would take place.

But those eight RSA students, so unaccustomed to going so deep into the rival school, were distracted by impressive details of the campus that they missed their driver — and the poor fellow, Riddle pity his head, was so anxious about the preparations and a thousand other things in his mind that he only realized the problem later.

As if things could get worse, soon the seven brothers got lost from Neige himself and the boy wandered alone inside the castle itself, not sure where he was going. 

Last year’s VDC had been at another school and Neige went as a simple helper to some RSA culture clubs. That year, however, the director himself chose him to star in the spotlight and hopefully bring victory to the Academy in the music championship. 

The song they chose was perfectly etched in Neige’s mind, almost like every song he’s ever sung and his favorite apple pie recipes. Dancing wouldn’t be a problem either. The problem was that he wasn’t at all prepared to wander NRC inside, without the slightest notion whether he was going forward or backward.

Neige was almost certain that what he was doing was forbidden and wrong. This feeling was made worse by passing by students repairing signs, setting up tent strips beforehand and carrying all kinds of materials they needed for what they were going to set up. It was the students job and he wasn’t supposed to interfere or see behind the scenes.

That and the pressure in the air he was feeling. 

Perhaps it was the height of the ceiling relative to the floor, the color of the walls and the subtly gloomy coldness of the corridors, but the air seemed extremely heavy. Suffocating. Neige walked calmly and cautiously, looking around patiently to try to figure out where to turn.

However, when he met the eyes of a random NRC student, said young man seemed angry at his presence there. He was right. He was spoiling the magic of the event by “snooping” backstage — even if he was in this situation for nothing more than a terrible oversight. Neige didn’t want to make anyone angry, so he tried not to pay attention to what they were doing.

Why did the walls seem to compress over him, however? Eyes and more eyes turned in his direction, following his step with intensity. They looked like crows gathering in a flock, watching fresh meat in the open.

Neige shook his head quickly. They weren’t crows! Technically, they should be ravens. And the birds themselves weren’t as bad as some people thought. He tried to calm down a little, thinking about what he had read about crows once. Neige was looking for a book about horses but got lost in the middle of his own search in the library.

He liked to get lost, didn’t he? He needed to be more careful with himself. That’s what his mother always said. She wouldn’t always be there for him to help all the time, nor could she with her failing health. Neige should take care of things on his own, like a good young adult.

Well, he was already alone at that moment.

“What was I... trying to remember about crows?” Neige didn’t know. The subject had escaped completely. 

He looked up and saw a huge staircase leading to the top floor. He should have found the middle of the school at best — he didn’t want to think about what would be worse. So the best way was to keep going. There was something like a garden at the entrance, it was possible that the castle had a courtyard.

Neige was praying they would. 

He was always very fond of courtyards, garden fields, also woods — even a little more than whole forests. They were wide-open spaces of beautiful nature, with pretty trees that didn’t necessarily make anyone feel trapped. But Neige surmised that anything can look scary if you see it in the wrong light or lack thereof.

“I... I’m not afraid…,” he tried to mumble softly as he continued to walk. He didn’t want to draw anyone's attention. “I’m… not afraid…”

In general, repeating this phrase calmed Neige in difficult moments. His psychologist once encouraged him to use the mantra to regain his composure when he was stressed. He was ready to use it when he got on stage, but not so soon.

He was just inside a simple school! Nothing more than that. No one would hurt him there. It wasn’t as some RSA colleagues said the NRC and its students were. Neige was sure that everyone was just afraid because of the gloomy appearance of the school, they had no reason to fear students who were just like them.

“Oi, what are you doing here, huh?,” someone yelled at him.

Neige turned quickly. He had to raise his face because the student who called was much taller than him. Two more joined their friend, all almost the same height and with the same angry look. Was he in trouble? He should explain himself!

“I’m lost,” Neige said. His mouth was suddenly dry. “Do you know which direction I should turn to get to the Colosseum? I... I don’t want to get in the way…”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be here?,” the first student asked.

“What? Aren’t we worthy of breathing the same air as an RSA richy boy?,” a second frowned.

“No, that’s not it! I shouldn’t be here! I-in these halls, that’s all! You got it wrong…”

“Now you’re calling us stupid!”

“N-no...!”

“Get out of here, you asshole! Or else we will…!”

“E-excuse me! I apologize! I didn’t mean to!”

More people began to move around them. Neige didn’t know what was going on. Whether they were trying to hold the three colleagues or whether they were actually going to take him out by force. All he knew was that he was running. Far away. He didn’t know whether to go in or out of the castle.

And did it matter?

It did matter. 

Neige didn’t want to make a mess. Everyone seemed angry at his presence there — and rightly so! What was he doing there? He was supposed to be somewhere else. A completely different construction on top. What would his friends say? Would the Headmaster get in trouble for that? They would heavily scold him and he wouldn’t have a reason to defend himself.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He was to blame. He got himself lost. 

Neige couldn’t see where he was going. He saw many reflections of lamps and candles around, endless walls and doors that all looked the same. His heart was as fast as his steps, his chest felt like a cloak that someone was squeezing hard not to let go of.

He could feel his arms shaking inside his blazer sleeves. Icy sweat slowly trickling down his neck and legs. It seemed like there was no end to that castle interior. Suddenly, Neige turned into a hallway and he was the only white dot among a crowd of dark and multicolored dots. 

The sea of students confused him. It was like falling into a swamp. Different faces stared at him in confusion, people shouted things in his direction, others looked so scared and surprised at his state of mind. 

He couldn’t feel his eyes. At the same time, he felt them too much. He should be with them wide open, almost making them jump out of his face. Neige didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stop his legs or stay calm. He needed a distant, open place where he could breathe. 

The closer the flow of people approached, the more panic took over his mind. 

The voices he heard no longer made sense. The faces, so far above his head, looked more and more distorted the more he looked up. Neige couldn’t breathe. He continued to run, making room among the crowd. He wasn’t sure what was coming out of his mouth made any sense.

“I’m so sorry!,” that’s what he was saying, wasn’t it? He didn’t know. He could not hear himself.

Neige ran in sheer terror. If there were obstacles in his way, perhaps he was literally stepping over them all. It made him feel better. He mingled with the confusion of his own thoughts. 

He was anxious. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted to go back to school. His school. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted Headmaster Ambrose’s request. Someone else would have been better in his place. That’s what he said, actually. But the director insisted. The dwarves insisted. His friends insisted. He couldn’t say no. He never could. This was important to everyone, he couldn’t spoil things right now.

This Goddamn hallway has no end?!

Neige wanted his mother’s arms. Someone who could tell him that everything was fine. The animals that were always kind to him. Anyone. But no one was there. Neige was alone. 

Alone in a huge, dark castle, full of huge, vile, visceral eyes. Big teeth, long hands. His heart beating with the intensity of an entire orchestra. Drums, flutes, oboes, clarinets, trumpets, trombones, tubas, violins, violas, cellos. All in perfect chaos. All in a melody of horror. 

It was as if he was trapped in a dark forest that was about to attack and devour him. Fleeing from an imminent danger that even he didn’t know what it was. He needed something. He needed someone. Some light. A bit of clarity. An opening.

That’s when he saw a column standing alone at the end of a corridor. There was a gap on one side and on the other. The sunlight was escaping from there like a helping hand. He just needed to reach it before the shadows could capture him. He should get closer but it was so far away. 

Could his heart take it any longer? 

Neige threw himself into the side yard as if his life depended on it. He clung to the first thing he sensed in front of him. He didn’t know what it was, his eyes were completely shut. And tears began to form on his eyelashes, like they were afraid of falling out. He was shaking a lot. A thousand things went through his head. He didn’t know what else to do.

At least he was somewhere in an open place. They say that in moments of panic you shouldn’t leave where you’re standing to avoid major accidents — and Neige thought it was logical — but he couldn’t bear to stay inside anymore. 

He tried to say something to himself, but he couldn’t. He was out of breath, tired. He needed to breathe deeply and calmly, regain some control over his overworked lungs. Something passed lightly on his back, concentrating on the area of his heart. Neige then noticed an echo within himself.

It was the same when his mother hugged him, at the time when she was still in good health and didn’t spend the whole day sick in bed. It was similar to when he comforted Toby, hugging him tightly. He was sure that before his father went to the eternal ride at the stars, he carried his baby son with the same affection.

The affection that only a calm and gentle second heart could share.

“Are you okay?” 

Neige opened his eyes quickly and raised his head. He was actually on top of a person, someone as surprised as he was — but who seemed to see how he was terribly scared. 

He quickly got off of you, brown eyes wide, trembling up to toe. Neige was frozen, not knowing what to do. You got worried when you saw tears rolling down his cheeks and tried to say something. Great, the poor guy was having a panic attack and you were panicking too!

“Excuse me!,” you two exclaimed at the same time to each other.

You held his shoulders carefully, trying your best to pass a sense of tranquility. Little by little, you recognized that face. 

It was Neige Le Blanche, wasn’t it? With the uniform from the other school that your friends talked about. You didn’t know what had happened for him to be so desolated but something inside of you made you want to protect him — and crush the responsibles ones for his sadness like rotten apples in a basket. 

Your group would be very annoyed if they ever knew you were thinking that.

“Take it easy... it’s okay. I won’t hurt you, I swear!,” you said.

Neige himself then held your arms, holding you in place.

“I’m awfully sorry. I… I d-didn’t mean to frighten you! Or... throw me on top of you…,” he took a deep breath, and you tried to smile to encourage him to talk. “... I apologize… I’ve been through a lot but it doesn’t justify…!”

“Forget it. It’s alright, don’t worry. But what about you? Are you hurt? Need something?”

“I don’t know what’s going on here, Henchhuman, but this doesn’t smell good to me,” the two of you turned to a third voice that was standing there.

For the first time, Neige realized that he was in front of two very unusual strangers. As you sighed — having completely forgotten about Grim for a solid minute — and the little monster stood next to you, Neige began to better observe both of you.

You were wearing the same black NRC blazer as the others, yet there was something in your air that indicated how completely out of place you were. Like a stranger, someone from another world. Neige didn’t even know how to put that feeling into words. And your little companion didn’t look too ordinary either.

While the boy left his arms free and you had turned completely around to ask Grim to call someone you knew, Neige grabbed that moment to put himself together. 

The sky was the same color of light blue that he saw when he arrived — although, from RSA’s castle towers, it looked more crystalline. 

There was a bright sun, birds flying across the sky. The trees in the courtyard brought snow on their branches yet they still looked alive and hospitable. And the grass under you was completely covered in white. Neige felt the winter refreshing him. He let out one last deep breath before you turned around again, still concerned.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” Neige said suddenly. “I almost wouldn’t have seen it if... I wasn’t so afraid. I ask for your forgiveness again. I’m so ashamed of the fuss I made! I was on my way to the Coliseum when I got distracted and lost myself.”

“And I imagine the guys here have been as welcoming and understanding as ever,” you said sarcastically. 

The boy, to your surprise, replied positively.

“They did! I think they were just annoyed that I was there meddling in their work, but I swear it wasn’t my intention. Everyone seemed to be so focused and I didn’t want to get in the way or fool around. But here is just... it’s so different from the places I’ve been. I couldn’t contain my curiosity.”

“I agree on that, actually. It’s a fascinating castle.” 

You smiled as you saw Neige looking up at the towers above, his gaze lost but less scared than before. He looked like a little angel who accidentally fell from his cloud and you wouldn’t doubt that this was the case. So that world could present you people that were so docile and pure? You had seen literally everything in those same hallways.

“Oh! Is that a well?,” Neige asked, pointing behind you.

“Yeah, do you want to sit there while we wait for the others? I, well, let’s say I have a friend on the festival committee,” you had a grin on your face, trying to make yourself feel important somehow. The guy next to you was a literal celebrity, it was the least you could offer.

“I would love to! Thank you very much... oh, sorry. What is your name? I’m Neige.”

He held out his hand and you just stood up there, shocked. It felt like a pretty awkward moment — more than those first few minutes ever were. 

Right in front of you was one of the most well-known celebrities in the world and he so gently and humbly introduced himself as if he were just another normal boy walking by. In fact, you already knew his name! 

Still, oblivious to this, Neige had his hand outstretched towards you in the form of a greeting. His smile was warm and endearing, like an apple pie fresh out of the oven. Someone so angelic couldn’t exist. You weren’t so doubtful about it because of a small handful of guys in the NRC who could qualify in that description. 

But not in the same way as Neige. You were pretty sure you’ve seen a cartoon with a character like that where you came from. 

Swallowing your hesitations, you introduced yourself to him. And although you don’t have much of an opinion on your name, it was a surprise to see how Neige seemed delighted to hear it. It was as if you had sung the most beautiful musical note to him. 

Already knowing each other’s names, you two went to the well in the courtyard and leaned there for a moment. You swept the snow from the edge inward, watching it crash against the frozen water surface. Neige also seemed very curious about the well. If you weren’t mistaken, it was the well in which Epel was rehearsing his singing some time ago.

“Do you think this is a ‘Wishing Well’?,” Neige asked suddenly.

That confused you. There was absolutely nothing special about that old pit, or so it seemed.

“They say that when you say your wish at the well and it echoes, the wish will certainly come true,” he continued with a smile.

“So... will you wish for victory in the VDC?,” 

“Oh, no. It wouldn’t be fair! After all the training my friends and I have done, I just want our music to touch people’s hearts. It’s a lovely song! I really wish I had chosen it.”

You frowned, seeing Neige’s gaze get lost for a second. And curiosity was stronger than you could predict.

“Didn’t you choose the song you are going to sing?”

“No, it was our Headmaster. It was a good choice, though! I have nothing to complain about. And well, he was already sure of what to order before I could make up my mind on what to choose. Is it ‘one less job’?,” Neige then laughed, remembering the words Gran said long ago. “But if I had a choice, I would want to sing another one.”

“Which one?”

“A-ah, n-no... it’s not a big deal…!”

Neige looked away from you, turning his back to the well and yet you could still see his face — white as snow surrounding you — gradually turning bright red. You held back a giggle. But the conversation was getting interesting and you didn’t want to frighten him with the possibility of laughing at his expression.

As cute as it was, you confessed to yourself.

“Please!,” you asked, carefully holding his arm. “Show me. Just a tiny little bit?”

Neige’s eyes carried a hint of indecision. 

He usually sang this little song to himself, completely alone. That is why he didn’t believe that it would have been accepted for the competition — after all, it wasn’t even finished. It was more of a lullaby he created to sleep, something light and serene.

It would completely go against the energy that the VDC was supposed to bring. It wasn’t full of swing, powerful nor suited to dance. However, here it was: was he competing to cheer other people up or to get his own victory? Neige just wanted to put on a performance that his friends could enjoy more than anything.

“I... I don’t know…”

“Please, pretty please!,” you tried to insist a little more.

It wasn’t the first time someone had gotten so close to Neige. However, it was the first time he felt so self-conscious and nervous about it. Your smile was bright and your eyes made his heart stumble for a moment. First frightened, then gradually becoming calmer and safer. And of course, the red on his cheeks got worse.

“P-promise not to laugh? I’m saying! It’s kind of silly…,” he tried to make you give up but nothing could shake you.

You had an envious sense of resilience. It was like you were fighting every day to survive in NRC and you wanted to enjoy a moment when someone wasn’t setting things on fire or threatening the students’ lives.

“I promise! And if I laugh, you can hit me!,” you blinked, giving a thumbs up.

Neige could never do that, even lightly. He then took a deep breath, straightening his blazer and making sure the beret was still intact on top of his hair — it was all useless to tell him he was just going to use his voice but you let it go.

And, in a sweet whisper, Neige sang his song softly:

For a minute, Neige took a deep breath before turning around to check your reaction. An attitude in vain, since he was shocked by your expression in the same way.

“Someday my love will come

Someday we’ll meet again

And away to your castle, we’ll go

To be happy forever, I know

Someday when spring is here

We’ll find our love anew

And the birds will sing 

And wedding bells will ring

Someday when my dreams come true”

Your eyes were completely wide open like the windows of a nice cottage. Glowing brightly, vividly delighted with what they witnessed. You wouldn’t know how to describe yourself in those expressions, though. You felt out of earth — but in a good way? It was like you were in a dream.

Almost as if it were a fairy tale and a beautiful prince had sung it to you, taking your heart to himself for a moment to be able to admire it. And yet — since it was Neige — he would return it to you quickly upon realizing your state of mind.

You’ve never felt so incredibly enchanted by something, even though you’ve been in that magical world for so long.

“That was... so beautiful,” was the most honest reaction you could put into words.

“We are so going to be crushed in the competition in emotional terms!,” you thought.

“P-pl-please...! You can’t be serious...!,” Neige exclaimed, anxiously.

Neither you nor even he could tell why — or how it was physically possible to — a greater amount of blood flowed into his snow-like face, but there wasn’t much to do about it. In the worst-case scenario, it only made him cuter. It was almost a danger to your sanity.

“Very serious!,” you stated with all your might. Something inside you wanted to make him stop having so many self-doubts. “Neige, that’s a very beautiful song. Don’t be ashamed of it!”

“I’m not ashamed! I just… I don’t know if it’s enough to be called a song,” he sighed. “It’s just a silly love song. It’s no big deal.”

“Okay, it’s not an epic song of courage or adventure, but still! It still has value. A subtle beauty, simple. Necessary. Wow, I’m going full Rook here…”

“Rook?,” Neige frowned slightly.

“The thing is: I would listen again every time you wanted to sing. And I would probably ask you to repeat it too. Sometimes when it feels like the world is going to come crashing down, it’s nice to have something light to see. Something that reminds of simpler times, with all the good things and where it’s possible to be happy.”

At this, you smiled.

“That’s why we have fairy tales, isn’t it?”

This opened Neige’s eyes in a fantastic way. 

For a moment — even a brief moment — it was as if someone had understood something profound about him that he could never put into words.

Fairy tales have always been more than an escapism for Neige since he was a child. They were an inexhaustible source of good memories and inspirations for happier days, dreams that deserved to be realized. But he never said that to anyone.

The show business overlords were awfully uninterested in “children’s fables” and he was afraid of looking immature among his peers — even if RSA was the cradle of the most dreamy boys that could exist in Wonderland. However, you perfectly captured the aspect of life that he loved the most.

And precisely what made that song something special.

“Yeah, that’s the reason why…,” Neige nodded, taking a deep breath. A soft smile sprouted on his lips. “Thank you. It... means a lot to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Those are my sincerest feelings. You know what I like most about this song?,” you continued, lulled by the energy of the moment.

You were really walking a lot with Rook Hunt.

“What?”

“It’s a song about love. This is already enough for it to be very beautiful to listen to! Do you know why, my snow white?,” that said, you poke the boy’s nose with your finger.

“Why?,” Neige giggled. No one had ever called him by such a funny nickname.

“Because it’s love that makes people’s inner beauty increase. And somehow, I know that you are well loved and love everyone around you very much.”

Perhaps it was too much poetry for Neige’s ears — and for your own mouth too. But you couldn’t help saying that. You just couldn’t! On the other hand, the new glint in Neige’s eyes was far more unexpected than your words.

It was like receiving a kiss from a white dove. Soft, full of meaning. Bringing the true kiss of a love that’s about to arrive. It was a feeling that sent his heart racing. And something inside you recognized the same scene in the pair of woody eyes that stared back at you. 

Then you saw Neige in a completely different way and, in your heart, you wanted to sing just one song.

“Prefect!”

Riddle’s voice interrupted the moment and the two of you jumped up, startled by the hurried approach of Hearstlabyul’s dorm leader. He was carrying Grim in his arms and another student was following him in terrible agony, unable to face either of you. You supposed he was the one guiding Neige before.

“Le Blanche-san, I’m terribly sorry for all this confusion!,” Riddle apologized. But when he was going to turn around to signal his colleague to apologize as well, Neige interrupted him.

“Sorry, you were my guide, right? I deeply apologize!,” he made a heartfelt bow and then the student turned his eyes to him, surprised. “It was all my fault! I got so distracted and unintentionally got lost inside the castle. I promise to be more careful from now on.”

“But…”

“Riddle, it’s okay,” you intervened, giving him a humored wink.

It was your way of saying, “you’re not going to have any luck arguing with this one.” 

With great effort, Riddle took a deep breath and convinced himself that there was really nothing else to do — as much as he still would like to follow protocol, being steadily reformed or not, you were all going to be late on the itinerary if time was lost needlessly.

“Would you accompany him to the Coliseum then, Prefect?,” Riddle asked, politely.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could still see Neige shaking the hand of the Heartslabyul student who was still shocked in being able to keep his head in place — and for an RSA student out of everyone to be so grateful for his work. A small chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“I do!”

So, with Grim back on your shoulders, you set out to guide Neige to the Coliseum where the main stage was set. Riddle watched your departure with a certain wonder and curiosity. Perhaps it was precisely because he had stayed behind that he could clearly see Neige’s nervous hands on his back and the subtle leaps you made as you walked forward.

Strange, isn’t it?

***

Epel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Well, almost no one from the NRC Tribe could — with the exception of Kalim who was glad you arrived and Rook who was “carefully” typing on his cellphone, certainly not taking pictures of the couple that was getting close.

But believing it or not, there you were, still talking to Neige as you both walked into the Coliseum. Although there was a strange electricity in the air between you, smiles and laughter dominated your faces and you felt strangely disappointed when you finally arrived on stage. In fact, the ones who came to receive you were the dwarves.

Your friends were still quite static in their places. Shocked. And you pretended not to notice that, nor the fact that your cheeks were a little flustered all of a sudden.

“I’m on my way. Just give me a minute, okay?,” Neige asked his friends.

“Okay!,” Dominic and the others agreed.

Only Gram took one last suspicious look at you before following them. And honestly, Neige felt immensely grateful that his grumpy friend made no further comment.

“So... this is it,” you said and Neige nodded.

“Yeah. G-good luck to you all!,” he completed, staring at you despite the nervousness. “It’s going to be a fun day, for sure. I…”

“Yeah?”

“I hope it’s not too weird to say that, but... I hope to see you again. Any day.”

Your heart skipped a beat at those words and the almost expectant way Neige looked at you. It seemed like he knew exactly what you were thinking. You also wanted to see him again, regardless of the circumstances. And something told you the opportunity would come somehow.

But, taking advantage of the fact that you weren’t in the medieval era, it was a lot easier to exchange contacts than to wait for fate or a meeting in the forest.

“I’m ‘RamshackleH’ on Magicam. My photo is this cute little fellow here,” you said, pinching Grim’s cheek.

“Hey! Well, I’m handsome but still!,” your little monster complained.

Neige laughed.

“Wait for me then. I will add you as soon as possible,” he promised. “I… I mean, when it’s possible. But early. I hope so. Trust me!”

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” you answered, also laughing.

“Prefect, the stage rehearsal is about to begin.”

“Is everyone going to interrupt my moments today?!,” was your initial thought before turning around.

You had not fully assimilated the voice and took another fright when you saw Vil near the two of you. On the other hand, Neige greeted him with animation and a certain relief — he was saved from bursting into flames, flurested out of existence!

“I’m looking forward to your song, Vil-kun!,” Neige said. Then he ran to join the dwarves, but not before waving at the two of you. “See you!”

As if you were already used to that point, you smiled at his energy and the roller coaster of emotions that was your conversations. With time and development, maybe you would come out of this stage of nervousness and talk normally without this strange cold in your belly.

But there was something different about Neige’s spirit when he performed with the dwarves after the NRC Tribe.

And you weren’t the only one to notice. There was a gleam in his eyes that seemed like the glow of a shower of shooting stars. A bright smile like the most beautiful snow day in a winter wonderland. He had life as his energy, awakened by the joys of life and spring. A unique beauty, capable of stealing hearts away.

It was the beauty of someone who was in love.

Special Notes: (put the notes here so up there wouldn’t be too much text) Oh yeah, the fic that took me months to make and when I finally finished writing the “dark corridors feels like that creepy forest” part, I was in shambles from listening too much Danse Macabre and tiring my eyes out of stress. But it was all for a good cause!! I always loved Belle but Snow White was my first favorite and it was super special to me growing up. And my love for her only increased over time. So how surprising I love Neige lol Well, I hope you all liked it <3

[winterwandersland]

New Story: Paperwork

Summary:

“Who’s that?”

“‘Mare’. The Lieutenant’s Missus .”

“Why d’you call her ‘Mare’?”

“‘Cause she’s a right paperwork nightmare’”

Task Force 141 is in dire need of a linguist and on short notice. Their Lieutenant, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, knows who to call, and with loads of convincing, he finds the team’s linguist, his wife, Kamara ‘Mare’ Riley, her military records filled to the brim with write-ups for disciplinary action. 

Previously in a unit together that was imprisoned for months, only them two making it out, Simon has fought to rid the world of the people like the ones who imprisoned them, fighting on the lines, while Kamara has decided to stay at home with their adoptive daughter, Ellie. Leaving Ellie to her uncles, Joel and Tommy, while they are away, Kamara joins the 141 on a mission that could save or destroy the world, opening the door to a past they thought was left behind. 

Will Simon be able to choose between work and his family? Will Kamara be able to face the demons from her past? OR will a mission put the Riley family in jeopardy?

tw/cw: arguing, slight mentions of past torture but nothing detailed, mentions of death word count: 3.8k Simon knows the perfect linguist to ask to assist his team on an important assignment.

Chapter One

“I have already told you ‘no’, Simon. How many ways d’you need me to say it? Nein. non,  não, いいえ, нет, no, नहीं, He, Hapana-,”

“Alright, I get it.” It had been a grueling few days, every conversation seeming to lead to the same topic of one-sided interest, joining Simon on the Task Force, the same conversation that led to the same decision, ‘no’.

Usually, Simon respected his wife’s boundaries, but this subject was one of great importance to him. It was a matter of life or death, a few lives to save the many, but he hoped it would be one life to save the world. It was a reasonable price to pay. They kill the enemy, the world is saved and everyone, well, almost everyone, goes home. 

“But you do get why we need you, don’t ya?” She was very aware of why his team needed her and it was the very reason she knew they could find someone else if they tried hard enough. “Yep, and I get there are plenty of other linguists in the military y’all can call.”

His wife was his last hope, the only person he knew he could let on the team and trust. He trusted her with his life and therefore knew she would be the only person who he let near his precious team. “There ain’t no other linguists who can fight and translate like you do. No one else has a memory like yours.”

An eidetic memory was what he was referring to, a type of memory that allowed his wife to save her teams countless times, translating destroyed texts that she memorized beforehand, deciphering messages that seemed impossible to understand, even to the best trained and specialized linguists. “You all are the best of the best. I’m sure you can figure something out. I’m not leaving Ellie behind. It’s bad enough when you leave. What do you think two parents leaving her behind will do to her?”

Before their imprisonment, Simon and Kamara had already begun their secret affairs, Kamara sneaking into the men’s barracks, never being caught except for one time by her Captain, but because of her good behavior that week, he turned a blind eye, only giving her wry looks during their meetings. Their mission-gone-wrong had started as a joint operation to rescue a group of hostages taken by rogue scientists and military personnel that planned to release a virus that would have killed thousands. The team spent months in captivity, despondent that any inkling of help would arrive. Upon their escape, the inseparable couple had grown closer, seeking out the hostages themselves despite their injuries, Kamara more wounded than her counterpart and leaving with a permanent scar that dragged from below her eye towards her jawline, a constant reminder of the hell she endured. They spent weeks recovering and months searching for the whereabouts of the hostages, but by the time they found them, it was too late. Each hostage had already been brutally murdered, having suffered from the fatal serums they had been given. However, there were two people left, a mother and her young daughter. 

The mother was dying, pleading for the soldiers to take her child and care for her. She told them the child was special and that they couldn’t let the other soldiers or scientists take her. So, the child said her goodbyes and Simon silently put a bullet in the mother’s head, the room dark so no one, especially the child, could see, too young to fully recall the memory. Three years later, the child, Ellie, was finally comfortable and felt safe in her new home with her new parents. While the soldiers hadn’t planned on having children so soon, they knew that they had more than enough love to give her and that they were the safest people to raise her, so they did just that. 

“Listen, we won’t be gone long. She can stay with Joel and Tommy, get to know Sarah a bit more. Please, love, we need-“

The floor creaks behind the two, hinting at the presence of their child being amongst them, Kamara shuddering at the sound which didn’t go unnoticed by Simon, adding to his theory of his wife’s paranoia that someone was watching them. “Hey there, sweetheart. What’re you doin’ up so late?” Simon moved towards the young girl, squatting to her eye level before picking her up as if she were the same size as when he first met her. “I heard you and Mara talking very loudly.” Ellie never called Kamara her mother or Simon her father, and they thought it was best to never force her, letting her create her own boundaries in their household. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to yell and wake you up,” Kamara said, planting a kiss on Ellie’s cheek.

“You weren’t yelling, just loud.” Ellie was soft-spoken, only ever yelling when she was in great distress. The two had taught her to express herself, allowing her to communicate healthily without raising her voice too loud, something the couple was still working on. “We’re sorry, love. We’ll keep it down.” Simon was always gentle with Ellie, Kamara too, opposite of the brutish man that efficiently took down his enemies on the battlefield. 

“Actually, we were just finishing,” Kamara quipped, wanting the conversation to be over with and never reach the surface again. “We’re going to bed, aren’t we, dear?” Her brown eyes shooting Simon a look he knew all too well, accompanied by her smile that she used to cover up her annoyance in front of Ellie, but letting Simon know that if the conversation continued, their daughter would be complaining of yelling instead of loud talking. “Yeah, we are,” giving his wife his look of almost certain defeat, “You want to head to bed yourself or do you want t’be tucked back in?”

Having never had kids, Simon and Kamara didn’t know if Ellie was too old to continue to be tucked in, but it was a small act that they both wished they had in their childhoods, one they hoped Ellie would never stop asking for, but feared the day she would. “Can Mara tuck me in this time?”

“You don’t like the way I tuck you in?” Simon teased, faking his hurt emotions and eyeing Ellie, who smiled as she spoke, “I do, but Mara does it better.”

“I’ll make sure to take tips from the blanket-tuck expert, then.” Kamara reached for Ellie, who fell into her arms after Simon gave her a kiss on her forehead. Ellie was growing while Kamara was not, so holding her wasn’t frequently her first option, but the thought of leaving Ellie made her want to cling to her tighter, keeping her on her hip as everyone headed to the lowly dimmed bedroom.

There were lights that hung over the curtain hangings that loosely draped over Ellie’s bed, keeping her room dark enough to sleep but light enough to keep her from seeing her dying mother in the corner of her room. Kamara lightly placed Ellie in her bed, performing the same ritual she had done since the first time she had put Ellie to sleep, waving her blanket the same number of years old Ellie was, the last wave always falling perfectly over the child’s body, each limb protected from the bad men that come to take her when she sleeps at night. “Goodnight, boo,” Kamara gently said, placing a clinging kiss to her daughter’s forehead and pushing the loose straight strands of hair out of the child’s face as she laid in bed. “G’night, kid,” Simon said from the doorframe of the room, waiting patiently for his turn to give the child a kiss goodnight. “Goodnight, Mara,” Kamara heard behind her back as she exited the room, avoiding eye contact as she walked past Simon with her arms crossed, heading to their shared bedroom. He headed to Ellie, kneeling beside her to bring himself eye to eye with the tired child. “Are you both going to leave me?” she asked her father quietly, making sure that Kamara could not hear her. 

He choked on the words he couldn’t muster up, his brain racing to find the right ones. Kamara was right, if she joined the team, they would both be leaving Ellie. If she stayed, his team was in jeopardy, along with an entire country. “You know we could never truly leave you, right?”

“But you leave all the time.” The words felt like a punch to his gut followed along with a hand squeezing on his heart. “When I leave, I make sure I do everything I can to come back ‘cause I can’t leave you two forever, especially you. I’ve got a proper important job-,”

“Mara says you get rid of bad people, like the ones who killed my mommy.” Simon could feel a tear make its way to the front of his eye, and while he worked hard to teach his daughter that it is okay to be emotionally vulnerable, it was easier said than done, for him at least. “Yes. And that takes time, so I’ve gotta go away sometimes, but I always come back. I have to.”

“Why do you want Mara to leave with you? Does she get rid of bad people, too?”

“Kamara, your mother,” he emphasized, something he made sure to do whenever he remembered, not to erase Ellie’s memory of her biological mother, but to remind her that Kamara was her mother, too. “She’s got skills, ones that me team needs, but she dun’t wanna come ‘cause she dun’t want to leave you.”

“If Mara leaves, will I be here by myself?”

“No chance, love. We’d never leave you on your own. You’ll stay with Uncle Joel and Uncle Tommy. You can have a play with Sarah.” The conversation felt wrong, like he was using their daughter against his wife, something he only did when they plotted to playfully ‘scare’ their mother as she came into the house. “Will she help you get rid of the bad people?”

“If she wants to, yeah, but she doesn’t fancy it, and that’s fine. Just like we say to you, you don’t have to do summat if you don’t want to. ‘No’ means ‘no’.” He felt like a hypocrite, knowing that he had tried to convince his headstrong wife to join him for the past few days despite the number of times she told him ‘no’. 

“But if she doesn’t help, then the bad people will be free.”

“There’s plenty of other folk who can help me at work. They might not be as good as Kamara, but they’ll get the job done.” He didn’t want to worry the young child, already traumatized by the death of her biological mother. But something told him that his wife was his team’s only hope, and he felt like Ellie may have known that, too. Before Ellie could speak again, Simon broke the conversation off, “Get some rest, love.”, he said as he placed a firm kiss on her forehead.

When he made his way toward the master bedroom, he both hoped that his wife was asleep, but also had a sliver of hope that she stayed awake to continue their conversation. The bedroom was quiet when he walked in, the only sound being a spray bottle the Kamara was using to wet her long coarse coils, a routine she did before wrapping her hair in a scarf and heading to bed. 

Simon was always good at being quiet, defying physics given his size, a trait that Kamara both loved on the field but hated in their shared humble abode. She stared at Simon for a slight second before she headed to their bed, keeping the silence between them. “Love?” 

“Simon,” a name she only ever fully pronounced when she was pissed with him which seldomly happened, but the name also slipped past her lips when she thought they would die, scared it would be the last time she ever heard it, however in this instance, she was nearly infuriated, only keeping calm and collected to stop herself from waking up Ellie with her yells.

His eyes were pleading with her, but her eyes already told him her decision, every plea her husband had worn her ability to stay firm on her decision. “You can’t go to bed.”

“Well, why the hell not?” 

“‘Cause you’re angry.” It was a rule they had. Never go to bed mad at or upset with each other. However, that rule was out the window today, “Watch me.” 

She untucked the tightly made bed, unwrinkled because of the pair’s military training. Before she could get in, there was a tug on her arm and a familiar arm on her waist that spun her around and pulled her away from the bed that was so dear to her. “No,” Simon said, keeping his body in between Kamara and the bed. “Simon, move.” She tried to get around the large man, but it was no use because of her smaller stature, though she was sure with enough anger and determination, she would win the game that her husband was trying to play. 

“Can we have a chat first? Then you can lay your lovely little head on the pillow.” Somehow, he always knew his praises would find their way through Kamara’s stubborn barrier, the one she put up when she shut down, or in this case, wanted to cease the topic of conversation. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?” 

Simon shook his head, the first time he had ever pushed past Kamara’s final decisions. Whenever she said ‘no’, she meant it and he always respected that, but this time was different. Knowing Simon for as long as she had, she knew whatever mission he needed her for was of great importance to him, though most of his missions seemed that way, but this one was different.

“Fine. Run me the details of the operation in a timely manner. I would like to rest my lovely little head on my pillow,” she said with a forced smile going across her face. She stood with her arms crossed while she peered up at her husband who had a slightly sunken look in his eyes. The deep breath he took before he spoke was all Kamara needed to know that the mission sat heavy on his heart, her smile instantly fading, “The person we’re after plans to start a World War, one that could wreck loads of countries.” 

“Okay. How does this person differ from anyone else you’ve gone up against?” Every enemy wanted a war. It wasn’t uncommon. People want power and would do anything to get it, including starting a war if it meant their name would be on the paper. “‘Cause no one else knows this person better than you do. We need you, Mara.”

“Spit it out then. Who the hell is it?” Simon could feel a lump in his throat forming, not wanting to set off the beloved woman in front of him who was just calming down. “Zakhaev. Vi-,”

“Viktor Zakhaev. Yeah. No need to finish. I got it.” She averted eye contact with Simon, her gaze now staring at the floor, her head filling with memories of the man, well, indirect memories. She had never met the man, only subjected to torture by his men years before. The only information she knew about him was what she studied in his files, information decrypted from flash drives, and analyzed behaviors. 

“I hoped they would have caught him by now…”

“Every time anyone thought they had him, he slipped through their fingers. We reckon he’s got a partner helping him get away.”

“I wouldn’t shoot the idea down.” She was still grappling with the information she was just told. Only twenty-five years old and tortured twice, both times she blamed herself for whether or not she was assured it wasn’t her fault. Three times if you count the duration in her childhood. The last three years she had been in a bliss, away from violence and the only torment she faced was when she went to sleep at night praying to an unknown god that her husband would make it back home. The compensation and benefits she received from the federal government was more than enough for her and Ellie to live off of, and when Simon was home, it was just right. Enough to eat, keep a roof over their head, proper clothing for the winter, and the ability to take a few vacation trips during the year. It wasn’t enough to hold the wedding Kamara had always dreamed of, but none of that mattered. She had her husband and her kid. They were worth more than any wedding she could have had. 

“So what do you need a linguist for?”

“There’s a set of documents that we can’t make out. Just in case it’s got confidential info-,”

“You need someone you can trust.”

“That’s right. You’re the only person I trust and that Price can trust.” It was almost unbelievable, how could anyone trust her knowing her history? “How? How could you trust me with anything of that caliber?”

“Kamara,” his voice pitying his love, the person who blamed herself more than anyone else, “it weren’t your fault.”

“I’d believe you if it were the first time. After the second time, there’s a pattern. I almost got my team at the bureau killed. Our unit is dead because of me.” Before the military, Kamara was an informant for the FBI, gathering any information on her former agency that she was so determined to demolish. Being too close to the case got her removed, but she was the youngest to join and the most stubborn, all thoughts of the consequences if she continued with the case on her own nowhere to be found, ending with her team having to be put into witness protection for an extended duration of time. 

“Neither of those were your fault, love. Nowt was ever your fault.”

“If that’s what keeps you in bed next to me at night, sure.” No matter how many times someone told her it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t find it in herself to believe them. Simon had been trying for years, but to her, all the evidence pointed to every reason her team’s death was her fault. Everything wrong was her fault. That is what she believed.

Simon reached his hands to cradle both sides of the woman’s face, forcing her to look at him, revealing the guilt she carried hidden in her stare and the forced smile she tried to give him, though her lip quivered. “Listen to me. What Zakhaev did to you weren’t your fault. The bureau weren’t your fault. The Red Room weren’t your fault.” 

A tear escaped from her eyes, something she tried so hard to fight off, but if anyone could make her cry, it was Simon, even if he didn’t mean to. He never had any malicious intent, but he seemed to be the one person that found access to the emotions she fought so hard to hide. She hadn’t heard anything about the Red Room in years, something she was grateful for, hoping that the agency would one day collapse, ending the suffering of the next class of Widows. 

She hadn’t mentioned feeling guilty for her actions at the Red Room, but leave it to Simon to know that Kamara’s one wave of guilt turns into a spiral down memory lane. The two had both struggled with mental health, but they did their best to manage it without medications, only taking them when needed. Sometimes, Kamara felt like Simon was always ten steps ahead of her when it came to regulating their mental stability, but little did she know the turmoil that he constantly went through, using the military to blow off his steam. 

They were similar in such a way that they both turned their emotions inward, only seldomly lashing out at others. Since she’d known him, Simon was able to keep his calm demeanor, having to learn to manage his anger issues when he returned to the military after a tragedy. He learned to turn his anger toward his enemies rather than his friends, though the friends who knew his anger were now dead. 

Simon pulled Kamara into his chest, holding her tight as she cried so very gently to ensure her tears were only heard between the two of them. The flow of tears felt nonstop, staining Simon’s shirt and leaving their salty taste on her lips, and the air becoming less able to go through her nose. In Simon’s embrace, all of her worries went away and the safety she was never guaranteed formed, allowing her vulnerability to be completely displayed. “I’ll do it,” she cracked through her tears, inaudible to Simon. “What?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

“No, no. Kamara, I didn’t say that just for you-,”

“I know. Just…I’ll do it…just bring the files here.” Just when he thought that the weight was lifted from his chest, it drops once again, him letting out a deep sigh. “I wish we could,” Simon started, knowing that the next words that came out of his mouth may end the first physical moment in months they were having, “but nowt can leave base. Price dun’t want nowt to happen to the files if they were to leave.”

He was telling the truth. The files couldn’t leave base and it would be a breach of confidentiality if they did. “M’sorry,” he whispered in advance. Kamara pulled herself away from her husband, him wiping her tears once she peered up at him. “It’s alright,” she said, sniffing up the invisible snot that blocked her nasal passages, another reason she hated crying, “Base is only an hour away from Joel and Tommy. We can drop Ellie off and each night I’ll spend the night with them, so it’s not like both of us are leaving her.”

He embraced Kamara again, taking advantage of the rare time that his wife actually let him touch her after three years. It hurt his heart to hear those words, implying that only one was leaving their daughter, knowing that it was him she was referring to. He left every time, putting his job above his family, but to him it was for a good cause. He put into his head that completing the mission would bring his family back together, and more importantly, bring his wife back.

Next Chapter

[red-panda-agere]

Regressor! Malleus Draconia

(So I don’t actually play TWST (even though I want to, my phone won’t let me) but my boyfriend really likes Malleus, so I’m trying to base these headcanons off of what my boyfriend has said about him. These aren’t going to be super in-depth like my usual ones, but I hope they’re good anyways :’3)

Malleus loves sleeping/napping with his head in someone’s lap, especially Yuu’s/MC’s and Lilia’s, as they’re his main caregivers.

One of the ittiest bittiest of babies, probably around 1-2, sometimes less

He absolutely cannot be left alone when regressed, and will search/pace the same few rooms/places for over and hour looking for a caregiver before giving up and retreating to his room to cry. If he does find one of his caregivers beforehand, he’s too shy to actually say he wants attention, but will snuggle into their shoulder without warning or just hope THEY WANT to give him attention.

Lilia is often called ‘Dada’ by little Malleus, the little one seeing Lilia as more of a parent figure than anyone else.

Dada’s boy through and through

He loves being called “Little Prince” or just simple little names like “Baby” or “Little one.”

As a dragon, he will teethe and chew on everything, including his own tail. It doesn’t hurt him, but they always try to draw his attention and motivation to teethe elsewhere, with teether rings, chewelry, and pacifiers. Malleus gets very nervous to use his pacifiers infront of others, even Lilia, but he loves them.

-Because of his fangs, he bites through a lot of pacifiers and teethers, so they have to buy more ‘heavy duty’ strong ones, Lilia even saying he’ll make them himself if he must

He has an abundance of little items based on Gargoyles, including a few stuffed animals and a bunch of story books he has read to him before naps/bedtime.

Little Malleus loves to ramble about Gargoyles, but often worries he talks about them too much. He’ll go on a very lengthy infodump to Yuu/MC about gargoyles, but will pause after a few minutes and just start apologizing.

He really wants little friends, but he’s worried that he’s too scary for other little ones and he’s far too shy. The closest little friend he has is Silver, but even then he already feels like he’s his little brother.

Silver and Malleus are often little together, Malleus always watching over the two of them and sounding like a proud papa the whole time.

“My precious baby boys! You two are the cutest ever!” Lilia pinches one of Malleus’ and Silver’s cheeks at the same time, unable to contain how much he loves the little goobers. Silver giggles softly “Dada!” he smiles. Malleus just whines, pulling away from his father figure’s hand, rubbing his cheek after. “Oh, I’m sorry little prince, did Dada hurt your lil cheek! Let him see!” Before Malleus could respond, the attentive vampire immediately giving his cheek a bunch of kisses. The little dragon tried to whine and push him away, not wanting to do this infront of Silver, but after a few kisses, he was a giggling mess. “Don’t think I forgot about you goober!” Lilia then did the same to Silver’s cheek, earning some muffled giggles from behind the sleepy little one’s pacifier.

Silver, when regressed, refers to Malleus as ‘baba’ or ‘bubba’ if he even can even speak at the moment. Silver and Malleus both share really small headspaces.

His tamagotchi is one of the most important things to him when he’s little, and will spend hours tending to his little digital friend if his attention isn’t directed elsewhere.

Malleus often has nightmares about those he loves leaving him, and almost always wakes up crying and shivering, sometimes even full panicking. He’s very clingy until he’s cuddled and calmed down. After nightmares, he usually doesn’t sleep the rest of the night.

Loves having stories told to him before bed, and whoever’s reading/speaking always has his full attention, and he tries not to ask questions during it, but usually can’t help it.

“Wuh! What happens to the little dragon then!” Malleus asked with concern for the fictional little dragon in the story book Lilia was reading to him, hugging Lilia tightly from behind, his chin resting on his shoulder. The vampire laughed softly. “I dunno baby! We’ll have to keep reading won’t we?” Malleus blushed a bit at this, but watched intently at his Dada kept reading.

He treats being bottle-fed by Lilia the most normal thing since he’s his basically his father. Of course, it’s only comfortable in the comfort of their rooms and when they’re alone, Malleus not even calling Lilia his dad during interactions outside of their rooms. He loves being bottle-fed though, even if it’s a bit difficult with how much taller he is than Lilia. His horns make it a bit difficult to lay on his lap, so his head usually goes near his shoulder and his legs over his lap, or he sits between his legs. Lilia would not stop until he had a way to bottle-feed his little one(s).

Malleus loves having his hair pet and played with, even when he’s not regressed, but when he’s regressed he will actively search for it. Not with verbal question, but he will press his head to Lilia’s hand.

He absolutely hates how strong he is, especially when regressed. He feels left out watching Lilia and Silver bake/cook together when they do, because he can’t help make them without breaking things on accident. It doesn’t help that Lilia likes the make cookies and treats for them so often, Malleus just wanting to be his Dada’s little helper.

Little Malleus needs praise for just about everything, even if it’s something he did without trouble or could’ve easily done when not regressed. If Dada didn’t tell him he did a good job going to sleep when he asked, Malleus will worry he did something wrong.

He doesn’t mean to be, and he doesn’t look like he would be, but Malleus is such a sensitive little baby and cries a lot. He doesn’t like crying infront of anybody though, and will go hide in his bed or the bathroom if he starts to cry. Lilia will always immediately follow him, or go into overprotective Dad mode when he finds him.

“Oh baby, why are you hiding?” Lilia asks with audible concern before sitting next to the crying Malleus. The dragon desperately tried to stay hidden behind his plushie, but Lilia gently set it to the side, and gently cups Malleus’ face in his hands. He kisses the top of his nose and wipes a few tears away. “Little one…Talk to Dada baby.” He spoke softly and calmly, whispering as to not frighten the little guy. Malleus takes a hold of Lilia’s hands on his face, before softly crying a little harder. He then holds his hands towards Lilia, the vampire letting him retreat into his shoulder. “Shh sh sh shhh…Dada’s right here my little prince.”

Malleus gets really shy about little outfits, usually settling on comfy pajamas. However, on rare occasions, the little one wears footed sleeper onsies, Lilia taking extra care to make a hole for his tail. He wears it most when he’s feeling extra sad/uncomfy or sicky. It’s usually saved for itty bitty baby headspace.

Lilia often jokes with little Malleus to be careful about burning his bangs like he did as a baby dragon. He teases him about a lot of stuff he did as a baby, but Malleus secretly adores it, as it makes him feel extra small still, his father figure treating him like he’s still the same little baby dragon.

(Trying to get all my WIPs finished and posted)

[robotbeetle]

Bg3 has neither an Asian nor monk companion so I took matters into my own hands.

Here’s my idea for a companion character. He’s not supposed to be tav/durge but a character you would recruit and have on your party like Gale or Karlach. And yes, he would be romanceable.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how he would fit into the storyline and gameplay. Here’s the notes I have on my phone regarding his companion quest and hypothetical game mechanics:

Upon first recruiting him, he will tell the group he got captured amidst their pilgrimage across Faerun but in actuality Yeon Ryang was searching for their brother, a leading figure in a growing Kara-Turan crime syndicate

Complicated sibling relationship™

Pretty early on you will learn of his keen disliking of Kozakura and its people. Prying further you’ll discover that he was refugeed as a young child due to a particularly violent Kozakuran invasion attempt of Koryo.

Traveling with Yeon Ryang and garnering approval from him will allow you to refer to him as just Ryang. You will also learn that before he was a monk, he was a criminal. A petty thief at first but his sense of entitlement grew alongside the severity of his crimes. It’s a past he holds ever so shamefully and the reason why he blames himself for his brother’s upcomings.

You’ll learn this past after interacting with the Zhentarim and later the Guild which activate unique cutscenes for him. He will strongly disapprove if you earnestly work for these crime groups and approve if you fight against them. If you romance him and help the Zhentarim overthrow the Guild, he will break up you as well, believing the Zhent to be the greater of two evils.

After learning said past, you also learn that Ryang is highkey obsessed of cleansing himself of his past sins and of all sins entirely. Ryang refuses to let go of his shame over himself and part of his companion is quest is helping him get over it for better or for worse. In the end, either he’ll become cynical to his shame and uses it to justify his return to crime or he’ll acknowledge that his shame will always be a part of him that he can only accept it and try to better himself as much as possible. 

Romancing him will give you the dialogue option to ask about his missing pinkie fingers in which he’ll explain to you that it was in fact the head monk of his monastery who severed them as a show of reform and discipline to Ryang. Yeon Ryang doesn���t resent his teacher for this and instead sees it as a deserving punishment and reminder. 

Later on it’s revealed that his brother, Yeon San who is currently operating under the name Sanjong, is in alliance with the cult of Bhaal and thus the cult of the absolute by supplying them with paralytic poisons from Kara-Tur (the same Dolor uses). He is hoping that when the Absolute takes control over Faerun, that’ll they extend a hand in an assault against Kozakura

If you encounter Sanjong and kill him without Ryang in your party or kill him without talking to Ryang beforehand, you’ll have to pass a dc30 persuasion check to keep Ryang from leaving your party permanently

His companion quest ends with a showdown between him and his brother where you’ll have to fight Sanjong and his goons. Once you bring him to low health or knock him prone, a cutscene occurs where you can convince Ryang to either spare or kill Sanjong. Remaining silent will result in him sparing his brother and leaving the two to repair their relationship

Whether Sanjong is killed or not, the player will have another choice in influencing whether Ryang will either join the ranks of the Kara-turan crime guild or continue pursuing total redemption

Basic rundown: His companion quest centers around the idea of plausibility of change and Yeon Ryang’s feelings of responsibility over his younger sibling. Either you can lead him down the path of rejecting his monastic ways and reverting back to his criminal life (either alongside his brother or replacing him) or you can inspire him to continue traversing across Toril (with or without his brother) to truly realize enlightenment.