#a few people have mentioned that they think the dialogue is better with these new missing link scenes. and maybe they're right (and i'm

[oveliagirlhaditright]

...Don't kill me, guys. But is it bad that I wasn't that crazy about the new Missing Link scenes?

I can't really put my finger on why.... I think it's because, somehow, it just didn't really feel like Kingdom Hearts to me, nor did it really have the Kingdom Hearts magic that I'm used to (though I know that that can be subjective and we're still early in and I should give it more of a chance, of course. And I plan to).

I kind of felt like I was playing a different game, like Persona or something (says someone who has only seen a little bit of Persona 3) or maybe the Tales series. IDK.

And the characters just seemed rather trope-y to me.

There were a few things that grabbed me a little bit, and seemed kind of interesting, but I think I actually was more interested by our last preview of Missing Link (which was the first time I cared about it, ever) than this one.

Sorry. Don't mean to rain on you guys' parade:(

I'm hoping to change my mind, of course, and am looking forward to what the next update (hopefully soon) has in store.

Though I will say that I'm impressed that we have four chapters already (even if they are pretty short). And it gives me hope that, as the devs have hinted at, we're not going to get anything at all resembling a KHUX or Dark Road situation where story is concerned. Thank God.

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere Raiden x reader x Yandere Fujin? Or feed my delusional mind with just Yandere mk men x reader- with that harem “no she’s mine! Not yours!”

“Alright, men please listen up. Y/N can only choose one of us..which means you all will have to die.”

A/N: I love a delusional queen from infinity to infinityyyyyy. MHMM OFC!!! Anything for my delusional friends…I didn’t have Raiden in this one because I’m going to give you some good stuff in a separate post. I have Raiden and Fujin fighting for you in that. Plus a bonus;) this has been my favorite request so far.

Warnings: Johnny cage💀, Yandere/Toxic Themes, mentions of stalking, harassment, violence, a bit suggestive???

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Let’s be real, the mk men are perpetually thirsty. Actually all the characters are to be honest. Did you hear the flirty dialogue?? Even the keeper is trying to get some of that action.

So really it’s no shocker that you, the new fighter, have all the attention from them.

Johnny is undoubtedly the first to strike. He may be an older man now but damn, you make him feel like he’s 20 again. He just cannot control making some kind of flirtatious comment when he sees you walk by.

“Woah, woah, woah, now sweetheart. I think you and I should have a nice long conversation. Get to know each other a little…or a lot…dealers choice.” ;)

Yeahh he doesn’t care that he has a kid and a mortgage. Cassie is grown now and Sonya doesn’t want him anymore…so free game, baby.

His eyes are hungry and he barely can hold himself back from pouncing on you—

Liu Kang and Kung Lao see this and apologize for his behavior towards you. They introduced themselves and of course did their absolute best to make you feel at home.

Don’t let this fool you though, those are some sinful monks. They are no better than Johnny and they want you real baaaad.

“So, Y/N. What is your skill set? Wait. Let me guess, you use beauty essence to trap your opponent in a daze before knocking them out?”

Liu Kang jabs Kung Lao in the stomach with his elbow, before speaking to you.

“I’m sorry for these two. You are very beautiful but please know we are just as excited to train with you as we would anyone else. Anytime you’d like to spar, please, don’t hesitate to find me.”

Ahh he’s so damn slick…he just wants a reason to pin you downnnn

“Hey! Liu Kang don’t you mean us? We all would like to train with you darling~. Some people like to fight over in the courtyard but if you’d like I have a very special place called, me casa.”

“I would also like to train with you…in the courtyard of course. I mean unless you prefer—“

“Thanks? Umm..I appreciate all of your….offers. I’m supposed to actually meet with Raiden, I’m just a little lost. Have you guys—-“

Before you could even finish your sentence all three of them bombarded you with offers and began fighting over each other, debating who actually knows how to find Lord Raiden the best.

“Uhh—“

That pretty much sets the tone for how everyone acts around you.

By a month or so into you being here, everyone knows about you. Especially the men. You’re all they talk about.

At first it was simply chatter about you being a new kombatant for earthrealm and of course mentions of your beauty.

But since learning more about and becoming closer with you, the little infatuations have turned into full blown obsessions.

No one can seem to get enough of you, even the grand masters have trouble focusing when you’re around. Hanzo and Kai Liang may disagree on many things but you are one of the few things they can get behind.

They are both trying to recruit you to their different clans so they can be fully entitled to you.

Scorpion wants extreme control over you, he wants to shape you into the perfect companion. He wants you to be just as poised as his wife once was. You already have her beauty so just let him perfect you.

Sub-Zero wants you to become his equal. What he failed to do with Frost, he will make up with you. How more beautiful you’d become if only your heart was frozen over.

Either one will stop at nothing to have you. A trophy they could boast over. For a second you ended a centuries-long feud, both agreeing on your excellence…only for it to start all over again for who is more worthy to own you.

This isn’t isolated to just them, all the men are fighting for your attention. Arguing about who you actually belong to, bragging about how much attention they got from you, and comparing it to each other. Don’t get me started on that. Mk men are so needy for your attention. Whenever they can’t get it, they resort to other ways.

Johnny is such a filthy pervert. You don’t wanna give him the time of day? Fine, he’ll take matters into his own hands.

He’s your very own paparazzi, you should be grateful that he’s taking this many pictures of you. You’re the first and only.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing it without your consent or knowledge…. He’ll jump into the flesh pits if that meant getting the perfect shot of you…let him have this.

He refuses to share these with the other guys, it’s just for him. Over his dead body will Kano or someone else see you like this.

Shang Tsung has also caught wind of you and you’re a pretty sight indeed. He doesn’t want you to fight in the tournament. A gorgeous soul like you should be locked away in his throne room. He always tries to bribe you with fortune and power. He can offer you so much more than these rodents. If you need an extra push in his direction, a little trickery may help with that….he has no shame using an incantation on you.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao are no better. They manipulate that fact you see them as good friends as a way to be in the limelight.

They stalk you just as much as the rest, sometimes separately but often times together. It always ends up in a fight between the two tho because one person starts shit talking…

“Idk Kang. A woman like that would never be into you. Kitana barely even looks your way…what makes you think Y/N will? Besides, she called me cute.”

“Yeah, I think she’ll think it’s real ‘cute’ how I destroy you in the tournament..”

Perverted as Cage. Kung Lao is extremely touchy while sparring. He loves to “teach” you things. He never shines away from a moment to flex all of his years of training under the shaolin and that he’s a self proclaimed expert.

For some reason when he’s fixing your form, his hand always winds up a little too far up…hmm strange.

Liu Kang loves when you watch him workout or spar with others. When it’s finally your turn to be his opponent, he never holds back.

You cannot catch a break. Gifts and proposals are constantly sent to your door and no matter how much you try to decline, it just won’t stop coming. Sure being basically waited on, and desired by many is really nice. Every girls dream! But you have to admit just how it is scary having such dangerous men obsessed with you.

There hasn’t been a moment in the last few months where you’ve ever felt completely alone. The feeling that someone is always watching you has never left.

And, occasionally you would awkwardly overhear or walk in on a group of men fighting about you.

“With all due disrespect, I believe a babe like that would prefer a star like me. She’s all mine”

“Nonsense. Y/N belongs to the Shirai Ryu. Both her beauty and skill makes her a viable asset to the clan. You can fight me in hell over it, Cage.”

It doesn’t get any better when the tournament starts.

I think the men forgot they were fighting for their realms because it quickly turned into a fight for dominance.

A tournament that was once a noble cause, turned into a bloody showcase. Every man dedicating their wins to you, making sure to send a cheeky flex or wink your way.

Besides, what value did their realms hold if you weren’t there with them.

[gynandromorph]

another NofNA style emulation comic, flashback style. this comic takes place 1 or 2 seasons after this comic. this one was to show Legend's first experience fighting and why she eventually came to start taking classes. she is a very stubborn character and i imagine without anyone telling her to do something else, she would have continued pursuing markscraftsmanship indefinitely. it was supposed to show a little bit of how she thinks in fights, but i think i could have done that part better.

you can see that she's walking home with a classmate who isn't a rodent. based on her dialogue, it seems like she was carrying supplies home herself instead of walking home with a rodent classmate until she befriended BY.

BY is a chacma baboon. he has a few unpleasant qualities, like cowardice and a lack of sensitivity toward Legend's insecurities, but from his perspective, he's just encouraging a friend who isn't confident in her talents and believes she's stuck trying to be a markscraft. there is a reason that he is studying to be a markscraft instead of going into fighting or a more important occupation like law or medicine; he wants a peaceful occupation where he supports other people who have to deal with the stressful stuff. they are sort of just past acquaintanceship -- they don't know each other very well. BY lives within escarpment south, like MK.

Legend lives in the same burrow, but the paperbark thorn is currently a smaller sapling, and there's less grass. the tree the leopard jumps from is a mountain hard pear (olinia emarginata). the shrub that BY hides under is a cancer bush (lessertia frutescens).

it bothered me as a kid (annoyed is maybe a better word) when predators who would chase the protagonists in shows and movies were sort of mindless killing machines, once i learned that they are somewhat selective and often risk-averse, because injury can be a death sentence for them, moreso than herbivores. a herbivore may be able to hide from predators until it heals; a predator can't hide from its need for food. i tried to give the leopard a richer... inner life than that. as Legend mentioned, she is deep past the wild-society border that's patrolled to keep wild predators like her at bay. she is aware of this. the expansion that BY mentioned is an expansion made primarily for an additional educational facility. i mentioned in the linked comic that i think markscraft classes are probably VERY populated, overflowing with students that faculty can't keep up with. the newer facility aimed to help ease the burden of educating a necessary labor force en masse. consequently, the area that the leopard is camping in is a footpath that connects the new writing college campus to a residential traffic junction which is used almost entirely by people who have no training in martial arts -- markscrafts. because the border is newer, there is probably more focus on patrolling the literal border around the campus than the paths connected to it. she is also aware of these things. in my head, she has observed many areas of their society for long periods of time (some more than others; no need to hang around an embassy to be noticed by the juiced guys with kill magic going in and out). she's absolutely picked people off here or there without the path, but she is rather desperate to be predating on largely rodents under half a pound when the consequences could be dire. when she sees two larger citizens on the path without the scent of rationale she has no hesitation. she jumped on the ratel instead of the baboon because the baboon had things stacked on his neck, and she wasn't sure how stiff they were or if she could bite through them right away. i don't know if she's ever hunted a ratel before, or if she simply knows their reputation secondhand, and thought it probably wouldn't be a problem with one coddled by society. i think she's under the belief that, unlike a smaller predator like a ratel, she is not diminutive enough to be welcome in society. it makes sense up front -- who wants to embrace the guy who ate grandma's face or dragged their baby off into the night? there is some powerful insecurity about feeling weaker than a collective group against her, and about the suggestion that there is something wrong with her way of living. i think she probably avoided them until food outside of the border became more scarce. i think wilds are shown as... "not knowing better"; in the addendum of secretary, it's put as "not thinking about the options they might have" -- but we are shown many wilds who know about society. they all seem to at least KNOW about it. they know that there is technically a way to enter it. so they DO know it's an option. it's just an option that's less palatable than killing people. and i wanted to write this leopard like that. i didn't really want her to be a hapless ignorant animal looking for food. food is absolutely part of it, but leopards in particular are very adaptable. she could just as well hunt other predators or pets and livestock near human society, but she has beef (not pun intended). i mentioned that Legend's parents raised her to be sympathetic to wilds, so here she is under the belief that this leopard would not eat people if she simply had Enough Information. who's to say? but she certainly doesn't lack ALL information about it. wilds seem to have a belief that being eaten by an opponent stronger than oneself allows you to become part of the stronger force. NOT eating someone is a grave insult (to predators, anyway, idk how prey species feel about that), and i think sparing her altogether is probably just rubbing salt in the wound about her insecurities wrt society being "better than her."

[ghost-bxrd]

Been mulling over Titans Tower and it's really interesting to me how it's treated in Fanon as compared to how the events transpired in canon. it's a really fun topic! Honestly, the original writing in canon is DOGSHITE but not for the usual reasons people cite.

Here's what does make sense in canon but is largely ignored (this is using canon characterisations at the time): First, it's all about the whole Titans team, not just Tim. They really downplay his death a lot, did not put up his statue or honour him whatsoever. Plus the hero community tends to victim-blame him a fuckton. Jason is showing that his death could've happened to anyone. Second, Tim and Jason are just two yearish apart—Jay died at 15, Tim becomes Robin at 13—so those Titans are more like his colleagues than anything else; he's not some older guy beating the shit outta them. Third, Tim’s indifference to Jason's comments and his cockiness about being a better Robin are pretty on-brand for his early portrayal as Robin. (I think fanon Tim derives a lot of his characteristics from his Red Robin run, which is valid as well! But here in particular we have Robin Tim... who... was... uh... a bit of an asshole when he was written back then and the HUBRIS on that man? Immaculate.)

What still makes this absolutely dog shit is the dialogue and how Jason is pouring his heart out to someone who he doesn't really care about. Jason... just doesn't operate this way... Why's he trauma dumping on... tim... ???? It makes no sense whatsoever because Jason really is someone who'd keep those vulnerabilities to himself. Why would he open up to... CANON TIM??? He makes scathing remarks when faced with Bruce and Dick because he knows the knife twists then and at he cares about their reaction. But not tim ????? Canon UTRH doesn't even mention Tim ????? ???? So in the end it's still shit imo.

I also find the use of Pit Madness in fanon super interesting, despite it not being canon. It's used to propel the Titan's Tower incident, which fascinates me because it shows how people are willing to work around its flaws to maintain consistent characterization in their works (which is !!! cool !!)

It's so interesting how many other incidents that do occur in canon aren't as well known as this one aren't given much thought. But this one is and it's interesting how people try to work with it regardless of it's flaws originally!

I'd really love to hear your opinions about it and how flexible you are with the Titans tower incident! :) How do you work with your Jason and your Tim? because it's cool to hear your analysis etc etc

Hooo boi okay i was planning on replying to this earlier but this deserves a proper, thought out response (which I’m shite at but I’m trying here. Words are hard.)

For one, I wholeheartedly agree with the whole trauma dumping thing.

Obviously we all have different tastes in media and I know there are quite a few people who enjoyed the confrontation with Tim, which is totally fine, but personally… yeah, not my thing.

I got into the Batman/batfam fandom via fanfic, so my first introduction was some version of Titans Tower I believe. I was super intrigued by the characters and the tidbits of lore sprinkled throughout that I immediately began reading up on them and digging through the internet for more info and background story on them. Which then quickly evolved into the part where my adoration for Jason’s character began and a short phase where I absolutely despised early canon Tim.

Like— all the victim blaming. He seriously couldn’t mention Jason without adding something derogatory about getting himself killed, which sat so, so wrong with me. Not to mention the Titans just accepting a new Robin right off the bat and joining in blaming Jason for his own death. I’m pretty sure that was the point where I swore off comics for a long while and decided to live off fanon 🤣

And then Jason’s part in the Titans Tower incident. I think part of how weird the canon event was is due in part to how the writers fumbled to depict trauma? Or maybe they just outright hated him because I know a lot of people back then despised Jason and his run as Robin.

Whatever the reason, I think I genuinely cringed when he revealed the Walmart Robin costume he was wearing. And then the trauma dumping.

Jason is smart enough to know Tim wouldn’t care about his grievances. I mean- dude just broke into his hideout to attack him, I think Tim’s about as done with Jason as with any other criminals, regardless of his past. And all that is proven by Tim fighting back tooth and nail without pause. He doesn’t even react to the accusation of the missing statue in Jason’s honor. Like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to care. And why would he? They don’t know each other.

And yeah maybe he was trying to beat some sense into Tim (which is still wrong but— vigilantes I guess? Idk) and make him quit Robin, but Jason’s also smart enough to know that Robins don’t quit easily. And then, as soon as Tim is down for the count and can’t keep fighting, Jason leaves. Just like that. No actual murder attempt, no kicking-while-he’s-down (at least as far as I remember).

It makes no sense. What would Jason be gaining from that encounter? Why would he blame the kid that replaced him and not the guy that did the replacing? Hell, it would make more sense for him to go after the Titans than Tim. Not the mention him casually doubting Tim’s talents when he must have done some background checks on him.

It’s why I like the idea of Pit Madness I guess, and that Jason actually went to the tower with the intent to kill. Because that way the entire thing wouldn’t seem so… pointless.

As for how flexible I am with the Titans Tower storyline, it really depends on the route people choose to explore. But I’m a huge sucker for the “Jason was Tim’s Robin” trope where there’s at least a mild amount of hero worship going on. 👁️ Oh, and happy endings. I can’t deal with tragedies.

But yeah these are my thoughts on it. Obviously no hate to whoever enjoyed the comic mentioned above 💚 we’ve all got different things we resonate with after all~

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + two

authors note: holy shit, i didn't expect so many people to be interested in this story! thank you all so much for the kind comments. this one is heavier than the first, but the following should be a little lighter.

i also just want to clarify something that a few of you mentioned: roman will not be abusive in this story. i know that's a plot used frequently, but it's not my thing, so i just wanna make that clear. :)

he is an ass though.....for now.

also, please, please, please heed to the cw/tw's! i will update them to reflect the content of each update. it's up to you, the reader, to prepare yourself properly by reading them to avoid being triggered.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, a scene of torture, depiction of ptsd, trauma responses (panic attacks), mentions of suicidal thoughts, brief line of dialogue referring to past childhood sexual assault, trauma response due to past childhood sexual assault

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 7k

“You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

If Solana was capable of feeling and experiencing any emotion other than sadness and fear, she would laugh. 

She would laugh because no one sane truly thinks that they can kill the head of the table, least of all someone like her. But, it really does settle in that her father and brother truly believe that she, of all people, can do something like that.

Can take someone’s life. 

Just the thought alone unlocks a new level of dread and terror. 

Eyes watering, she shakes her head, protesting. “No. I—I can’t do that. I—I won’t.”

Rarely, if ever, does Solana push back on what she’s asked or told to do. It only results in more severe beatings that lead to ER trips vs having to patch herself back up in her bathroom. She’s accepted that acquiescence is always a better alternative. But this….this she can’t get behind.

Wes smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Solana knows exactly what’s about to happen next. Stupidly, she tries to escape, climbing up on her feet and making it centimeters past Wes when he fists her hair, yanking her body back. She hisses in pain and starts to cry and protest as he drags her across the first floor of the house.

“No! P-please! I–I’m sorry!” She begs, all the while Xavier follows lazily behind, keeping his cigar near his mouth. 

“Shut up,” Wes snaps. She cries, heartbeat sporadic, so much so that it’s becoming difficult to breathe. That’s one of the worst things to happen considering what she knows is about to occur. He kicks open the bathroom door, and sure enough, the tub is already full and ready.

“No…..” Wes shoves her toward the tub, kicking her in her back to force her to the knees, Solana’s head banging against the side of the tub. She can only blink two or three times before water is burning her eyes, filling her mouth, drowning her.

Solana flails against Wes whose strong hand holds her down under the water by the back of her head. It’s a wasteless effort, trying to fight against him, when her energy would be better spent trying not to drown.

Not that Wes will allow that. He’s adept at bringing her to the edge of unconsciousness, pulling back just in time to taunt her. And that’s exactly what he does, pulling her head back, finding a level of enjoyment at her violent coughs and tears. 

His favorite form of torturing her.

She’s not sure how long it lasts, only knows there’s a tremendous amount of relief when he finally lets her go long enough for her to plant her palms on the ground to gather herself. 

Xavier, who stood there watching the whole time with pleasure, walks towards her. Solana gasps and moves her body back against the tub, wanting as much distance between the two of them as possible.

His face is blank, no emotion in his eyes. “You either kill Reigns.” Solana’s eyes shut as Xavier caresses her wet cheek. “Or we kill you.”

It’s impossible to hold back her tears, as Solana breaks down in front of her father and brother, the both of which simply walk away with an astounding amount of indifference. 

They slam the bathroom door shut, allowing her the privacy of at least deteriorating without their judgmental glares. 

Pulling up her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she sobs into her thighs, confused as to just how in the hell she ended up in this situation.

Solana isn’t a killer. Has never even had the desire to kill anyone. Not even the two men who just made it abundantly clear that her only two options are to kill or be killed.

Just how all of this is supposed to work is beyond her. Roman is a boulder of a man, body covered in ropes of pure muscle with a kill count that rivals some of the world’s leading assassins. She’s barely 5'1, can’t seem to get the scale to budge no matter how many diets she tries, and trembles in the presence of anyone who has an XY chromosome combination.

Many have tried to kill Roman, and all have failed, meeting gruesome, torturous deaths. 

What chance does she have?

————

Any prayer sent up requesting some type of divine intervention to stop this unholy union is either denied, ignored, or planning to be answered at a much later date and time, because the next two weeks speed by faster than the speed of light.

Solana’s days are filled with wedding preparations that require little to no of her say in what she wants. Not that that’s any different from most things in her life.

Granted, there’s a small part of her that mourns when she’s presented with her wedding dress.

The dress she doesn’t want to wear for a wedding she doesn’t want to have. There’s an alarming lack of autonomy that suddenly feels so much heavier and suffocating despite it being a consistent, dominant theme in her life.

A large part of her recognizes how it’s probably largely due to the whole reason why all of this is happening.

Her father and brother want control of the bloodline.

Objectively speaking, she can see why this would be a goal. It’s everyone’s goal. To have control and power over the most powerful crime family in the entire continent. Maybe beyond. The Bloodline’s true stretch has never really been made public, per se. She’s certain that’s partially what makes them so dangerous. One can never really know who is a member and who is not, who has ties and who is an enemy.

A secret that gives them a forever advantage.

The day of the actual wedding, like everything else, comes much quicker than Solana feels prepared for. Truthfully, she doesn’t feel prepared for any of this, doesn’t want any of this, but much like most things in her life, her wants and desires don’t matter.

No one cares to hear them, and no one definitely cares to respect them. 

On the day of the wedding, shortly after arriving at the church, she’s left alone in one of the back rooms. Someone mutters something about the makeup artist and hairstylist to come in shortly before slamming the door and leaving her by herself. That’s mostly a bad thing. Being alone with the thoughts she’s been having lately……they typically don’t result in anything good. 

Overwhelmed and in her head too much, Solana grabs her purse and takes out the latest journal she’s been working out of.

And she writes.

Dear Mom,

Today is my wedding day. I should be happy. You should be here. None of that is the case though. The truth is that I feel so empty. This won’t turn out well. I either try to kill Roman and he ends up killing me as a result or I refuse and dad and Wes kill me.

There is no outcome where I make it out of here alive.

And mama, I know you always told me to never forget that life is a gift, but mine isn’t. It hasn’t been since they took you from me.

And truthfully……I don’t think I really care anymore.

Life is hard. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.

I’d rather be with you instead.

The knock on the door startles Solana as she hurriedly moves to close up her notebook, stuffing it back in her purse as she calls out for whoever is on the other side to enter. The door slowly swings open as Solana quickly swipes at her eyes, feeling the burning of pending tears.

She can’t let them see her cry though.

No matter how badly she wants to.

While Solana expects another set of hard eyes and an indifferent scowl, she’s met with a woman around the same age as her with half her head shaved, the other side full of dark purple hair that grazes her shoulder.

“Damn, got the right room on the first try. Let’s fucking go.” Solana stands up as the woman walks over, adjusting the black makeup kit on her shoulder. “I’m Bayley.” She extends her hand out for a handshake, and Solana takes a second to reciprocate, caught off guard by her relaxed disposition. The way her smile meets her eyes, not a trace of irritation or disgust in having to assist her.

Solana has only had minimal interaction with representatives of the Bloodline, namely the women who accompanied her at the tailor shop and made comments, most likely about her, in their native Samoan. Nina always taught her daughter not to assume, but it’s hard to not believe cruel things are being stated when they’re conjoined with pointing, eye rolls, and curt exchanges when they needed Solana to move a certain way.

So Solana, understandably, is cautious. 

“Solana,” she shares, shifting in her seat.

“I know,” Bayley snickers, placing her makeup kit on the counter and starting to lay out products. “I’d be a bit of a shitty makeup artist if I didn’t know who the bride was, am I right?”

Solana doesn’t say anything. The silence doesn’t come from a place of rudeness but rather continued confusion. She can’t comprehend why this woman is being so nice to her?

If Bayley is bothered by the lack of responses, she does a damn great job of not showing it. “Now, I have a couple ideas of what look I think I wanna go for with you, but as it’s your big day, what are you thinking?”

That…..that is what triggers another one word responde. 

Cautious, she asks, “me?”

Bayley pauses in the midst of starting to pick out foundation options and leans back against the counter, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “Arranged marriages suck ass. You already don’t get to pick who you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with. The least you can do is pick out some makeup.”

There’s something so insanely comforting about her otherwise simple words. Something freeing and liberating about being given an option, even if it’s about makeup. For the first time today, Solana actually smiles.

“I—I like neutral colors. Gold…maybe would be okay too.”

And just like that, the deep smile that revealed the dimple in Bayley’s right cheek returns. “Great minds think alike. That’s exactly what I was gonna go for.”

“And—” Solana adds, voice an octave lower, insecurity creeping back in. “If—if you could cover the scar as best you can.”

“What scar?” Bayley gives her a wink before finishing up the laying out of products. “I got you, girl.”

It’s not very often, if ever, Solana feels beautiful. And even when those once in a blue moon moments occur, they’re fleeting or surface level, typically dashed by a cruel comment from her family. But today, standing in front of the mirror, makeup completed, hair done, and dress on, she actually feels beautiful.

The first time she tried on the dress, it was an unpleasant experience for a variety of reasons, on top of the fact that she hated the style. Strapless and form-fitting with a sweetheart neckline. Solana hates her arms and especially bringing too much attention to her chest and body in general.

But conjoined with the hair and makeup, she actually doesn’t immediately want to turn away from the mirror when she sees the outcome.

Bayley comes behind her, still wearing that smile that Solana is now convinced, despite the odds, is genuine. “Reigns is a lucky bastard. You look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Solana really does mean it when she offers a sincere “thank you.” Bayley’s positive energy is exactly what she needed. It doesn’t change anything, but it definitely does help her not to be consumed by thoughts she hasn’t had since she was a teenager.

“Hey, uhh, I’m sure being married to Mr. Tribal Chief himself means you’ll probably have to make appearances from time to time, hold his arm and shit.” She hands Solana a small piece of paper. Unfolding it, Solana sees numbers scribbled down in red ink. A phone number.  “Ever need glam again for any of it, hit me up. Or even….even if you just need someone to talk to.”

“Thank you.” Solana’s voice is stronger this time, firmer, the small act of kindness traveling such a long way. She holds up one side of her gown to walk over and slide the paper in her purse. 

She’ll make sure not to lose it. 

There’s a hard knock on the door that reminds her where she is. Reminds her that people like Bayley are anomalies. One doesn’t get to experience kindness for too long. Not in her world. 

Solana honestly didn’t expect her father to walk her down the aisle, didn’t see it as something he would have any interest in nor find an exciting opportunity. And those two reasons are very much true, but his desire to issue last minute warnings outweighs both of them.

Xavier’s frame fills the door as he looks at Solana from head to toe. Instantly, he’s scowling with disapproval. 

“Why is her hair not down?”

Solana was partially worried about that. She knows her father has always told her she needs to keep her length so that she can always wear her hair down as it helps to “hide how fat your face is.”

She doesn’t know how wrong or right he is about that, but she’s wanted to cut it for ages, being unable to do so because she knows it’ll upset him.

Bayley, however, doesn’t seem to give two shits about Xavier’s disapproval. “Updo’s are typically better for formal events. Granted, up or down, she still looks beautiful.”

Solana can’t tell entirely if Bayley is defending her work or Solana. Either way, she has a tremendous amount of respect for this woman who doesn’t seem to give two shits about who Xavier Miller is.

If only Solana could do the same.

Xavier cuts his eyes in Bayley’s direction but says nothing, instead walking over to Solana and whispering in her ear. “You should have started your fast three days ago instead of two. You still look fat. Hold your stomach in as you walk down the aisle.”

Any relief or peace felt from her interaction with Bayley is dead the second those cruel words leave his mouth. As soon as he entered the room, really. But Solana doesn’t have time to be sad, because he moves to drop her veil over her face and loops his arm with hers. 

He walks her out of the room, depriving her of a chance to tell Bayley goodbye and thank you again. 

Xavier leads her down the hall, a left, and then a right before they’re standing before the double doors that lead to the sanctuary. She wants to ask for a second to gather herself, feeling the panic starting to rise, but Xavier barks for the guards standing outside the door to open said door.

And they oblige without protest.

The veil is more opaque than she remembers, partially obscuring her view of Roman and the others who wait for her at the end of the aisle. There’s a sea of people on either side of the pews, many and most, Bloodline members. But, she can’t focus on that.

All she can focus on is the low, warning voice of her father. “You will please him and do exactly as he asks.” What other choice do I have? “Earn his trust. We will tell you the rest when the time comes.”

Solana would give anything for that time to never come.

And once they reach the end, before he frees her hand for Roman to take it, he snatches the chance to put on a good display of faux love, leaning over for a hug. Solana instantly tenses at his touch.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he whispers and pulls away with a smile that has her empty stomach knotting.

Swallowing, Solana channels her focus back on Roman. Like the past two times she'd seen him, his hair is neatly pulled back, but unlike those exchanges, he’s dressed to the nines. Expensive, designer suit, all black, the only red in his appearance, the red Ula Fala he wears around his neck. Representation of his status as Tribal Chief, his role in his family’s dynasty.

Solana can admit that he looks good. Very good.

If only everything else just wasn’t so bad.

Roman has no reaction at unveiling her, and Solana can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. She’d like to just say he has no reaction to anything, really, but that’s untrue.

He’s notorious for his angry reactions to the most minute situations sometimes. 

So perhaps no reaction is the best reaction she can receive.

Still, it unsettles her. Has she upset him already?

The two of them are directed to kneel by the pastor, or maybe Shaman, or maybe just an official. She’s not really sure, but whoever he is, he wastes no time in starting with the formalities of the wedding. He says many things, but Solana’s mind is elsewhere, not that it’s an intentional avoidance.

Her father reminding her of the fact that she hasn’t had anything to eat for two days is suddenly bringing on the extreme exhaustion and weakness she’s pretty sure she’d managed to put on the back burner in exchange for mental anguish. 

She’s so incredibly tired. And it feels impossible to be present for the vows or to stand when she’s prompted so by the officiant. It’s even more difficult to stay cognizant enough to acknowledge what’s being asked of her, forced of her, with a set of “I do’s.”

But, it’s when a knife is pulled out that her face pales, flashes of numerous, previous exchanges where that little piece of silver was used to mentally and physically terrorize her. Roman somehow notices this and quietly murmurs, “relax. It’s tradition.”

Before she can speak, the officiant continues. “Now, as are the ways of our ancestors, we shall seal this union before God, family, and all with blood.” Roman offers his hand, palm faced upward and nods at Solana to do the same. Reluctantly, she follows, eyes shutting, not wanting to see whatever is about to happen next.

“Careful,” Roman warns. She’s unsure who it’s directed to, but it’s followed by a brief, burning pain across her palm. She’s been cut, nothing major, but enough to draw blood. 

Her hand is moved followed by instant, coarse, warmth. Eyes opening, she sees that her and Roman’s hands have been joined together.

“In the eyes of the ancestors, you two are now officially bound to one another not just by law, tribal and government, but blood. A curse be placed upon anyone who dares interfere with this marriage.” Separating their hands, Roman takes the red cloth and wipes her palm before his own, tossing it to who she recognizes as his enforcer/cousin, Solo. “And now, you may kiss the bride.”

For whatever reason, probably several good ones, Solana hadn’t thought about this part. The part where Roman would have to touch her, would have to kiss her, in front of everyone.

There’s a quick increase of anxiety and panic that ensues when Roman takes her hand, pulling to force her to angle her body toward him. Her heart is smashing against her chest with the weight of a ton of bricks. 

But just as quickly as the anxiety rushed in, it’s gone because Roman’s head dips lower to hers and his lips are on and off her faster than she can process, than she can freak out over.

She’s unsure about this brief interaction, a possible indication he’s just as uninterested in this union as she is. 

A business arrangement.

That’s what he called it.

That’s what he called her.

Even her hand in his as he leads her down the aisle, stoic expression the polar opposite of one would expect for what should be the happiest day of someone’s life.

She wonders if he views this as the exact opposite.

Because Solana certainly does.

————

Despite her best efforts to power through, the weakness gets worse and is complicated by a sort of dizziness that makes Solana partially grateful her arm is linked with Roman’s. She tries not to show that she’s leaning more on him than her own two feet, not trusting them to give out on her.

But, this man is perceptive as hell, she should know this. One doesn’t get to be where he is, accomplished all he has by being oblivious. 

He’s escorting her into the reception area, already lively and full of people, most of which she doesn’t know, many of which she’s not sure she wants to know. 

But instead of leading her toward an individual or group of individuals, he pulls her to the side, asking in a low but steel voice. “What’s wrong?”

Solana stills. The last thing she wanted to do was bring attention to herself, and that’s exactly what she’s done. Trying her best to do damage control, she answers in as firm a voice she can muster. “Nothing. I’m just—I’m just tire……” Free hand to her forehead, Solana only recalls her eyes briefly closing before her body sways into something hard and firm, arms around her, holding her up.

Roman says something, calls for someone, but Solana is solely focused on centering herself. 

A woman is suddenly standing before her with a deep, beautiful complexion similar to her father’s. However, that’s where the similarities stop, because this woman and her bold makeup is absolutely stunning. 

“You don’t look well,” is the first thing to leave the woman’s frowning mouth.She takes the back of her hand to Solana’s forehead and offers what could be perceived as a sincere, sympathetic smile. “Girl, when was the last time you had something to eat?”

Solana manages to answer, unfortunately being honest when she should probably lie. “Y-yesterday, I think. Maybe—maybe the day before.”

A deep frown falls on her face, but Roman is the first to speak. “Why the fuck haven’t you been eating?”

It’s the irritation and anger in her voice that makes her wince, but Solana can’t account for what makes her eyes dart over to where her dad and brother are watching closely. She does her best to redirect her gaze before Roman notices, but it’s a stupid thought.

He sees everything.

His expression turns dark as he mutters something she can’t hear and then directs the woman. “Naomi, take her to get something to eat.”

Naomi. That’s her name. For some reason, it just fits her. Naomi places her hand on the small of Solana’s back, gently taking her from Roman’s grasp as she starts to guide her away. “Come on. There’s definitely plenty of options to choose from.”

Meanwhile, Roman sets his sights on another goal, knowing Naomi will see to it that Solana is taken care of.

Xavier isn’t a hard man to find. He’s laughing it up with some of the other guests at the wedding who aren’t members of the Bloodline per se, more along the lines of allies. Not that Roman gives a shit. His stride is intentful and purposeful, Solo naturally flanking at his side, Xavier’s gaze falling on them with an insincere smile.

“Ahhh, the groom. Congratulations—”

“Why wasn’t she eating?” All Roman has to do is nod for the other men to disperse, and like ants, they do just that, leaving him alone with Miller and his boy.

Xavier steps forward, lowering his voice and clearly playing up the facade of a concerned, loving father. “I believe she said something about looking her best on her wedding day. And as you can see, Solana is not a small woman. She probably thought that was the best and quickest way. Poor girl.”

Roman has this thing he likes to do sometimes when people think they can get one over on him. He likes to tap into the deeply rooted part of himself that can maintain his temper, keep him from acting on his emotions, and instill some well crafted self-control. He puts all of that on the back burner in favor of something else almost equally enjoyable.

Playing with his prey.

Roman knew five minutes into the conversation with Miller that the man’s death would come at his hands. Preferably sooner rather than later. Xavier is the type of man Roman hates the most. The kind who fails in all important areas of his life and spends the rest of it making others miserable for his shortcomings. The kind of man who refuses to see the simpleton he has for a son yet seems keen on turning him into a mafia head.

It’s almost comical. The amount of delusion.

Wes also decides to answer, chin jutted, shoulders straightening. This actually is humorous to Roman, the fact this kid thinks that he comes off remotely intimidating. That shit may work on his sister, but not the Tribal Chief. 

“Solana’s a grown woman. She does what she wants.”

Xavier shoots his son a warning look. A look indicating that he can’t believe Wes would be foolish enough to challenge the man before him. “Wes….”

This only brings a smile to Roman’s face. He steps toward him, vowing in Samoan. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” His eyes dart toward Xavier. “The both of you.”

Solo also steps forward, asking in their same native language. “Want me to handle this for you, my tribal chief?” 

Roman shakes his head, advising in a deadly calm voice. “Patience, Solo. I’m going to have my fun first.” 

Xavier is visibly irked by the conversation happening in front of him that he can’t understand. But, he does a decent job hiding that irritation. “Perhaps I should go check on her—”

Roman extends his arm, blocking the man. “No.”

Xavier pauses. “What?”

Roman is suddenly ready to get the fuck out of here. He promised his cousins that he would go the day without killing anyone, but this fucker is pushing it. “She’s my wife. I see to it that she’s fine.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, but he covers it with a tight smile. “She is my daughter.”

“The same daughter you knew was starving herself yet did nothing about it?” Roman’s retort is blunt and to the point. He may plan to play with his prey, but that doesn’t mean he can’t call this man out on his bullshit along the way.

Xavier paints on a face of shock and indignation at Roman’s accusation. “I did—"

Roman is directly to the point, advising in a way that makes it clear there’s no room for debate. “Solana is my responsibility now. Any issues she has, I will handle. Any threats she faces, I will eliminate.” One glance at Wes shows that the younger Miller is struggling to control his temper, hand clenching and unclenching at his side. The impulsive side of Roman wants the kid to try something. This will be a beating he’ll enjoy. Thoroughly. 

The kid is as insufferable as his father.

Roman refocuses himself, talking and directing his conversation to Xavier. “Solana will be unavailable for the next few weeks.”

Roman swears he can see the vein forming in the older man’s forehead. “What? Why?”

“She’s a member of the Bloodline now. She must get familiar with our ways. Any messages you need to relay to her will go through me.”

It’s partially true. But mostly, he wants to fuck with Miller. A man who obviously gets off on control needs to be humbled, Roman knows it must kill Xavier to be humbled by someone younger and more accomplished than himself.

He’s also certain Solana won’t be heartbroken by not being around her abusive piece of shit family. 

“I don’t—”

“When she wants to.” He gestures to Solo, explaining, “Solo will accompany her for any outings she has outside of the estate. That includes your home as well.” 

Roman is certain Solo, if not for his adept skill at maintaining a poker face, would be looking at him with surprise. He’s yet to discuss this with his enforcer, but Roman’s word is law. So however his cousin feels about it is irrelevant. It’s painfully obvious Solana is incapable of keeping herself safe, hence her need for protection.

Solo would be the perfect person for just that.

Xavier clears his throat, wrinkled hand adjusting, loosening his tie. “Is that really necessary?”

“As my wife, she now has a major target over her head. I won’t take any chances.” Roman’s smile is mocking. “This is your daughter, right? Surely, you don’t want me taking any chances.” Roman adds on, partially to continue to twist the knife but also because it’s the truth. “I will keep her safe.”

Regardless of how he feels about this marriage, Solana is now a part of the Bloodline. That means, just like for anyone else in his family, he’ll protect her with his life. It’s his duty to do so.

Xavier’s deep complexion is tinged red. The man is fired up. But still, he knows better than to express that rage to the man in front of him. “That is—-was—-her home. What safer place is there to be?”

Now, Roman is getting pissed off. It’s obvious by the faded bruises and pure terror that Solana exhibits in the presence of her family that she’s anything but safe with them. 

Roman steps towards him. “With me.” Tired of these games, he gets straight to the point. “These are not suggestions. They’re orders. Orders you will obey.” He searches Xavier’s face for any signs of indication that he’d be stupid enough to try something. There’s nothing there. “Am I understood?”

With a clenched jaw, Xavier answers. “Yes.”

Roman’s intense gaze burns into him, his undisputed authority surely a thorn in Miller’s side. “Yes, what?”

“Yes…..my Tribal Chief.”

Roman smiles. Pleased with his assertion of dominance, he turns away, venturing off to find his bride.

Time to get the fuck out of here.

————

Solana spends much longer in the bathroom than necessary. She halfheartedly expects for Roman to come beating on the door, demanding for her to come out and fulfill her wifely duties.

But that moment never arrives, so she values every second of time she’s granted to prepare herself for what she’s refused to think about the past two weeks.

Her wedding night.

Solana knows what’s going to happen, what has to happen, but it doesn’t do anything to help the terror she feels in every corner of her body.

The shower water blends with the tears shed at the thought of what she has to do, the act she can’t even think about without her chest tightening.

She hoped that reminding herself this wasn’t that, that this isn’t that, would help. But, it doesn’t. Because this is Roman Reigns she’s about to be intimate with.

He’s not known for being gentle in any area of his life, and bedroom activities certainly can’t be an exception. That’s when her anxiety grows even stronger, especially as she forces herself to dress in the red lingerie that was provided to her.

The silk robe included provides a slither of comfort, and she makes sure to tie it so it covers as much of her body as possible. A silly act considering Roman will rip it off, along with everything else, the moment he gets her onto the bed. 

It’s only when she’s certain she’s stretched out every bit of patience this man is capable of offering that Solana decides she needs to leave the bathroom. Upsetting him is the last thing she wants to do.

So without an ounce of hope that anything moving forward will be remotely good, Solana hits the light switch and opens the door.

She finds Roman sitting almost slouched in his chair located in the corner of the room. He’s lazily scrolling on his phone when his eyes lift and land on her. She stills. There’s a brief second of a delay when he hits the button on the side of the phone and stands up. 

Solana refuses to focus too much on the fact that he’s about as covered up as she is, wearing only boxers.

Because of his size, it seems he’s across the room directly in front of her in a matter of seconds. Eyes taking her in from top to bottom, he asks, “you good?”

Far from it. 

Regardless, Solana nods.

If only that worked for the head of the table.

She gasps quietly when he brings his hand to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I don’t do non-verbals.” His eyes search her face for something she can’t identify. “Words.”

Blinking, she answers with a low, “y–yes.”

He pauses and then demands, “lay down on the bed.”

Solana licks her lips and makes her feet move over to the mattress, climbing on top and clenching her eyes shut as she lays her head back on the pillow.

Her fingers mess with the material of her robe, trying to distract herself from the sound and feel of him climbing on the bed. She doesn’t need to be looking to know he’s above her, intense eyes probably studying her.

His deep voice sounds at the same time she feels his finger glaze across her clavicle. “It’s just sex.”

If only that was true. 

Still, she manages to nod, eyes and mouth snapped shut.

Solana takes in a deep breath that makes her stomach cave when Roman’s lips are pressed against the soft skin of her jawline, moving downward at a tantalizingly slow pace at the same moment his hands move to her robe. 

She releases another shaky breath as her robe comes undone, revealing so much skin, so much of her she’d do anything to keep hidden away.

A thin sheen of sweat is starting to form all over her body. The room is suddenly much hotter than she remembers. There’s difficulty paying attention to what’s happening because her mind is taken to another place, another time.

A much much darker place and time. 

And suddenly, she’s not in Roman’s bed. It’s not him hovering over her, not his mouth on her neck or his hands on her body.

It’s theirs.

His stench is strong and almost sour, breath tinged with alcohol. “You’ve got some fire in you, girl.” A sinister smile reveals yellowish teeth contrasted against pale, dehydrated skin. “But, I like it when they fight back.” His strong fist connects with her jaw, forcing her head to the side and nearly knocking her unconscious. “Rob, come hold her down for me.”

Solana tries her best to stop it, tries to keep it at bay, tries to do what she’s never been able to do prior to this moment but somehow thinks this will be different. It’s a stupid thought, because moments later, she’s hyperventilating, her body feeling like it’s on fire. 

“No!” 

With strength she didn’t know she possessed, Solana shoves them, Roman, whoever, off of her, scrambling to climb off the bed. She’s standing in the middle of the room, doubled over as the demons overcome her.

Hand to her chest, she starts clawing at her neck. 

Deep down, she knew this is what would happen, knew that she’d fall apart the second he started to touch her. 

What she didn’t expect was a set of firm, calloused hands forcing her upright, carefully holding her arms away from her neck where she’s certain she just drew blood. And she definitely doesn’t expect Roman’s intense gaze on her, studying her with what one might consider to be concern.

But, Solana is too caught up in her panic attack to know for certain if it’s concern or not as she realizes that he’s talking to her.

His voice is distant but eventually travels close enough where she can make out words. “Breathe.” She’s still gasping for breath, trying to find that place of regulation as he continues to speak to her in an almost soothing manner. But, that can’t be possible. This is Roman fucking Reigns. Nothing about him is soothing. 

“Look around the room. Tell me five things you see.” 

Solana doesn’t know how, why, or even where she finds the wherewithal to be present for his directions, but she is. She’s even able to follow through. Eyes moving around the room, the first thing she lands on are the double doors leading to the balcony.

With speech still almost an impossible thing, she lifts her arm and points in that direction. 

He doesn’t even turn to see what she’s pointing at. “Keep going.”

Confused but also not wanting to make things worse by being disobedient, she scans the room, settling on the dresser. Solana points again.

Roman’s eyes bounce from her eyes to her mouth. “Three more.”

At some point in this random exercise, Solana’s breathing began to regulate, so much so that instead of pointing to the chair in the corner of the room, she whispers, “the c-chair.”

His voice grows seemingly softer. “Two.”

The next thing to catch her attention is the painting on the wall, and it’s after she does so, Roman provides her with a reminder that she still has one more. And when she points to the ceiling fan, he provides another set of directions, tasking her to identify four things she can touch.

She struggles initially, realizing she can use herself, going on and identifying several and actually feeling various parts of herself, like her hair and robe. 

And when she’s asked about three things she can hear, it’s only then that she realizes something she’d missed in the midst of following his guidance. 

She realizes that she can breathe.

Solana can actually breathe. That anchor isn’t on her chest, weighing her down to a state of unconsciousness, that heat that made her feel like flames were lapping at her body is extinguished. 

She almost….she almost feels calm. 

While panic was the dominant emotion not even 10 minutes prior, confusion is the primary emotion now. 

And it's with partial confusion and partial recognition that she acknowledges softly, “I’m okay…”

He doesn’t say anything, and it’s in that brief time of silence that Solana tries to process what just happened. Having suffered from panic attacks since she was a child, she’s never been able to calm herself down, never experienced one as short as this one. 

But he….he just changed that. He just helped her through it.

Shaking her head, she stammers, “how….how did you—”

Solana didn’t realize he was still holding her forearms until she looks down. Roman suddenly jerks and steps away from her, forcing her arms back at her side. 

Instantly, she’s contrite. He seems….disturbed. Triggered, almost. “I’m sor—”

“Quiet.” Solana watches with just as much confusion as he moves across the room, dressing himself, back towards her, like he’s physically unable to look at her. There’s a level of aggression in his movement, a wave of irritation radiating off his large being. “Why—why are you….”

She can’t bring herself to finish her sentence, but she definitely thinks it.

She wants to know why he’s leaving, even if it should be painfully obvious.

Truthfully, Solana doesn’t quite understand why she’s suddenly wondering why he’s leaving. It’s obvious she can’t do what needs to be done. More importantly, she doesn’t want to. Him leaving her alone should be sweet relief.

But it can’t be sweet relief because while it may fix one issue, several others are created.

She was told not to upset him.

He’s upset.

She was told to please him.

He’s far from pleased.

She was told to do whatever he asked, and she’s done the opposite of that.

So far, Solana is failing. She’s failing miserably, and that can only lead to one grisly outcome. 

“Where are you going?” Asking while holding her robe closed over her body, she weakly reminds, even if it kills her to do so. “We—we have to—”

“You think I’m dealing with that shit again?” Roman snaps, finally turning to look at her. “I can’t even fucking touch you without you having a nervous breakdown.”

His words, while true, leave a sting. It’s also a bit confusing. How is this the same man who only minutes ago talked her through her panic attack with such patience and compassion.

She suddenly feels even more embarrassed and stupid.

“But, we’re—”

“I can get pussy anywhere, preferably without the headache of dealing with someone clearly unstable.” Solana still isn’t quite sure how to take his sudden change in demeanor. Roman finishes dressing and curtly informs, “the room on the end of the hall on the right is yours. Don’t still be in mine by the time I get back.”

“When are you—” The sound of his heavy double bedroom doors slamming in the wake of his exit prematurely silences her question. 

It’s only when she’s certain that she’s alone that Solana breaks down again.

He’s upset.

She’s upset him.

Nothing ever good ever came out of an angry man. Not for her, at least.

Her mind creates and races with a million and one thoughts regarding not about where he’s going but what will happen when he’s returned. She wants to believe he’s going somewhere to work off his anger, but experience has proven she’s the way that men work off their anger.

Roman indicated that day in the library that he wouldn’t put his hands on her, and while she wanted to believe he was being honest, this was also before she pulled this. He has every right to be upset, but that anger and not knowing what will come from it….it terrifies her.

It terrifies the shit out of her.

Falling to the floor, legs against her chest, she sobs into her legs, one thought and only one thought on her mind now.

What the hell did I get myself into?

[thefandomenchantress]

So everyone's talking about the new episode right now. Understandably so, since it had so much new evidence! In fact, I'm going to talk about it as well. However, instead of focusing on the bombshells David dropped or Levi's secret, I'm going to do what I do best: Focus on Ace and ignore literally everything else. /hj

(Spoilers for Chapter 2, Episode 12!)

All joking aside, I'm sure you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Ace literally said, like, five lines of dialogue this episode. And yeah, you're right. Actually, that sort of ties into what I'm talking about.

Okay, time to explain. The thing I want to talk about is this: Ace is weirdly...Not as confrontational as usual this episode? Let me show what I mean through examples.

What's so special about this moment? Well, strangely enough, it's what comes after it.

Now, when I first watched the episode I laughed and thought, "Oh, someone insulted Ace, now Ace is going to be angry" and then they never cut back to him being angry. They just said that (admittedly very funny) line and moved on.

And after it happened, I didn't think too much of it. I was far too consumed by the episode's greatness to care too much, and Ace's reaction wasn't necessary for the scene anyway.

These two lines aren't as strong for what I'm trying to say, so I'll lump them together.

But I thought it was worth mentioning that in the first photo, Ace joins in with Nico and Levi on saying Arturo should've been better at his job. But after Arturo scolds the three of them, as well as everyone else by extension, it only cuts back to Nico and Levi. Which is fine, it can be assumed that since Ace's comment was a late addition, shorter, and didn't have too much substance, him not getting a reaction makes sense (I mean he's not the one who got called a whore like Jesus Christ Arturo--).

In the second photo, Hu tells Ace to stop blaming Nico because they have an airtight alibi, and Ace...Just shuts up. Nico complains about being interrupted and they move on to other people's alibis (or more like the lack thereof). Which sorta makes sense, Ace can't really refute her point because he can't prove she didn't have breakfast with Nico. Then again, he could've made a point to say no one can prove they did have breakfast together, since they were in private, but still. Maybe Ace is too scared to seriously argue with Hu after that slap, haha.

It's this last example that actually made me notice that there may be anything resembling a pattern here:

During this part of the episode, I was immediately reminded of J's line about Ace being incapable of being quiet and expected Ace to refute her point. After all, it's basically the same as refuting her earlier point. He just has to say that he's not always spontaneously combusting every 5 seconds like she thinks again. He's not a grenade launcher in a glass house. More like a small batch of fireworks, thank you very much.

But Ace doesn't say anything. This is only made more obvious by Charles immediately cutting off the conversation there.

And this moment made me think something. Keep in mind I could be totally overthinking this an unnecessary amount, but that's what most of theories end up being anyway.

Since the conversation is immediately ended by Charles, DRDTdev could've ended J and Ace's interaction off with Ace trying to insult her back, maybe him going "Listen here, you--" before Charles cuts them off because they have a trial they need to finish. But DRDTdev decided to not make Ace have any reaction whatsoever to this insult, at least not one the audience can see. And based on how loud and opinionated Ace is, I'm guessing that if the comment did make him have an extreme reaction, we definitely would have heard him say as much. But we don't.

I think what makes all this so weird to me is that whenever someone is condescending to Ace, usually he's very upset and it shows. In trial 1, we see him be one of the few to cave pretty quick to the idea that they were wrong and that Teruko isn't the culprit. Yet when Whit says Charles isn't the culprit, Ace suddenly feels very strongly about it, because Whit actively talked down to him about it, (I think Whit said something like "use your big boy words" but I'm too lazy to rewatch the whole trial to find it) and now Ace doesn't want to agree with him (Or at least that was how I interpreted it, he's so petty I love him). So you'd think he'd be more resistant against those who kept making comments about his intelligence or demeanor, but so far, he hasn't.

That could mean two things. One, he's the culprit and is trying to at least vaguely avoid unnecessary confrontation and bringing attention to himself. But honestly, I doubt even that would stop Ace from impulsively insulting people back.

The second option is this:

My first thought and explanation in my head for this connects to Ace's overall arc. Let's recall Ace's secret quote:

"I don't know what to do with myself anymore"

This line gives off a sense of hopelessness. Like Ace has completely given up on everything.

And for some reason, a couple of the moments above made me feel, at least slightly, the same thing. If Charles says Ace is so stupid he's never seen anyone more stupid ever before in his life and didn't think it scientifically possible for anyone to be that stupid? Ace has no response. If J says another line about Ace's explosive demeanor? Ace has no response.

I don't know, something about Ace just not bothering to refute them makes me feel that something is off. He complains that everyone sees him as an idiot and how he hates it earlier in the chapter. He seems so distressed as he does it, it's a full-on break down.

And yet, when people do exactly what he was talking about here, he can no longer muster up a response. It's like he's given up on changing their minds. He knows they think he's stupid, and impulsive, and intolerable, and he thinks there's nothing he can do about it anymore. Blowing up at them will only make them think they're right. So he's given up on doing anything at all.

I suppose my line of reasoning is that maybe small details like this will pile up over time, as Ace, unnoticeably at first, loses some of his fire bit by bit, until inside he's just...Empty. He doesn't know what to do. He's so tired, and he doesn't know anything that can help or distract him from his situation. And seeing as the secret quotes seem to embody a character's mindset at death...That seems to be the place Ace might die at. Perhaps even at his own hands, who knows.

Is that an overreaction on my part? Possibly. Am I overanalyzing microscopic details? Yes. But that's my job.

So anyways I really enjoyed this episode and Ace was great too! Yippee for the return of DRDT, and my Eden culprit idea not being completely debunked yet!

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

The hidden story behind these few seconds.

(Originally, this post was going to be about "Meet the Parents Part 3," But I feel that since I was focusing so much in Jeff and Rio's reaction, so I decided to make a little post about her.)

I had been looking at this and thinking about it a lot, and hearing the dialogue and reflecting about the story. This moment means A LOT.

I see a lot of videos about Spider-verse, which I imagine makes sense considering how much I love this movie.

And in videos, in tiktoks and online as well, I had seen a lot of people been confused as to why Gwen tried to talk to Miles's parents instead of dipping out.

And you know what? I think the answer is in these few seconds, and what she does after.

Let's give context at this scene.

Gwen had realized that the Spider-society is bullshit, and not just because the system is corrupt, but also that canon can be defied, which means she can also help Miles defy canon if necessary. She knows she owes him that much, and she wants to make it up to him.

So she goes to 1610, wanting to talk to him to tell him the news, probably apologize and say that she is on his side.

Except, that there is no one.

But that's not the only thing, she also listens to his parents talk about the situation.

She hears them talk about Rio trusting Miles, and being her idea to let him go (something Gwen of course didn't know.) Jeff may be angry, but you can hear that he is scared.

But funnily enough, what else he says?

Look, is Jeff over his head and thinking the worst of Gwen? Yeah, and I will talk about it on the other post.

However, let's see this from Gwen's perspective.

Because she went to see Miles, she didn't look after the Spot, which went to Pavitr's dimension, and Miles followed her, then the joke villain became extremely powerful and threatened Miles. Now Miles is in who knows where, with Miguel and Spot hunting him down and his family.

Now, do I blame Gwen? No, she couldn't have predicted this, and she is a teen that is hurting and afraid. While I think she needs to apologize to Miles, I can't be mad at her (especially when she is doing all of this to MAKE IT UP TO HIM!)

But do I think the girl who couldn't had known debris was going to fall on top of the lizard, and that would be enough to make them human (because Gwen didn't know this was a human mind you,) and still feels like she failed him; would feel this is her fault?

Oh what do you think?

And let me tell you, NONE of this is helping.

Gwen knows that Miles has a crush on her. She has seen the drawings, how he acts around her, what other people say. And now his mom, who saw them together for just a few minutes, can tell that Miles was shining around her.

That has to be a gut punch.

She knows Miles did what he did to help her, as well as because he is amazing. And she wants to be with him obviously, even if she before felt she couldn't.

And to top it all of, she is being confronted with the fact that Miles was right about his parents.

Let's remember that while Rio and Jeff assumed the worst of Gwen, she did something similar.

So she is confronted with the fact that Miles is in the right about trying to save his dad, and that his parents are probably worth telling the secret (not to mention that now she knows there was still hope with her dad), and that if she hasn't interfered, none of this would had happened.

And she says so herself.

And this, is why she is doing it.

Remember how I mentioned earlier about people tho didn't understand why Gwen did this? This is why.

She feels guilty, she feels horrible that she put Miles in this mess, and that Miles's parents are feeling this torn about this ordeal.

Sure, you could argue it may be better to not mention anything to his parents, to dip out and find a way to fix this mess before they know.

But I think she feels she owes Miles and his parents this much; she knows how much Miles loves his parents, and would probably appreciate a head-ups to them if it is necessary.

You know how I mention this was the scene where Gwen probably realized how right was Miles about his parents, and probably gained a new appreciation for them? I wonder if we would have the inverse scenario next movie.

Of Miles's parents realizing Gwen means well and adores their son, and would do the impossible and more for him.

If you like my work, please share and support me in ko-fi if you can, if not, please share this post!

[lunaviee]

CAFFEINE — ft. rin itoshi

⨳ cw; reader shakes, mentions of not eating, dialogue heavy

⨳ not proofread

⨳ heavily based off of me bc i shake so bad when i have caffeine LMAOO

“you’re shaking.” rin states, giving you a side glare while you’re writing an essay.

“oh. i am.” you stare at your hands for a few seconds, watching as they twitch when you stop typing. your eyes flick back to the screen and continue clicking away.

rin’s frown deepens a bit and he cant help but stare at you as you ignore the trembles. he sighs heavily in annoyance and grabs the coffee cup sitting in front of you.

“you got this caffeinated…” he mumbles, “you’re not supposed to be having caffeine. it’s what makes you shake.” he places the cup down continues to look at you, watching your every move.

rin’s always been observant. he notices the small twinkle in your eyes when you realize your favorite pastry is in stock. he notices the forced smile you give people when you’re far past your social limit for the day. the way you pout a bit when you’re focused.

and the way the you tremble after you realize you forgot to tell the barista you’d like your coffee decaf because it makes you incredibly shaky.

“well….i need the caffeine this time.” you mutter, trying to excuse your forgetfulness.

“need it? for what?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow at you.

“so i don’t fall asleep while writing my essay”

“uh huh….right” he doesn’t believe you. and you know he doesn’t. and he knows that you know that. “did you eat before you got your coffee?”

you pause your typing, watching as your tremors get worse. “um….yes” you glance at him, though he cuts you off. “one macaron we bought at that new bakery doesn’t count.” he’s put his phone down and is now completely focused on you.

“it’s better than nothing” you sigh, throwing your head back against the couch cushion. “well it might as well have been nothing, you’re shaking worse than normal” you couldn’t even argue with that because you were in fact shaking a lot more. you sat in silence and your computer screen started going dim. “just take a break and eat something.” he deadpans, reaching for your laptop.

rin was always very supportive of how you treated your body as long as you were happy and healthy. he’s always been like that, making sure you make the right decisions fit for your body. but drinking caffeine with no food was growing to be a bad habit of yours. and he had to stop it.

“but i-”

“don’t argue, your essay can wait and we both know you hate the shaking.” he holds his hand out, waiting for you to place the laptop in his hand. you stay still, hands slowly gripping onto the keyboard tighter.

rin sighs, knowing there’s one thing that would get you off of the couch. he’s looking at you with his signature blank expression, “if you stop, we can go to the cat cafe you saw last week…” his heart swells a bit at the sight of your eyes regaining their signature twinkle.

“really?” you grin, immediately shutting off your laptop and placing it on the floor. rin nods, trying not to smile at your reaction. “okay, let’s go!” and just like that, you’re off of the couch and shuffling to your shared bedroom to change.

rin stays on the couch for a few moments, now mentally preparing for the amount of “we should get a cat” comments he’s about to receive from you. but it’s worth it, he thinks, as long as you’re happy and healthy.

soon, you’re both ready to leave and you’re still shaking. though this time, it’s mostly from excitement <3

ִ ࣪𖤐 omg…hey guys…..okay this was sitting in my drafts for WEEKS and i needed to post it🤞anyways i was never here i’m back on break kay bye love youuu

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #22

Best of Wish

I enjoy Irep's grit-teethed remark when he mentions Anti-Fairies can't have godkids. He's just like his dad, for real, for real.

If he's this annoyed at the thought of Anti-Fairies not being allowed godkids, that kinda implies he wants one, which is interesting. Godkids were always one of Anti-Cosmo's interests, but never something Foop pursued on purpose or ever expressed interest in.

Please enjoy this cut Anti-Cosmo dialogue from an early script for "Fairly Oddlympics" that I think about constantly:

btw, there are a lot of funny deleted scenes in the old scripts that I love talking about, especially from this one, so if you find anything that catches your eye and post about it, you should @ me because I would enjoy reading your reactions <3

Plot twist - Irep is doing healthy things to work through his "scary godparent for Vicky" trauma while Peri's reaction to Vicky trauma was to cover his ears, hide behind his mom, and sing "La la la, la la la" to pretend she wasn't there.

Peri said his memories of childhood are blurry. I wonder if Irep remembers his childhood better since he was fully able to talk and comprehend things back then.

"Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place!"

I mean... Technically yes, but you used to have to sing for it. lol.

The Pixies, who are literally last in line for godkids below all other magical beings (including pegasi, bigfeet, and lake monsters), watching Irep stroll in like: ???

- which imo was implied to be a punishment for their race after H.P. was godparent to some unconfirmed kid I've been headcanoning was Dale for 7 years-

Actually, I like the implication that Irep was so fast to snipe Dev because he's been stalking them since he found out Peri was assigned a godkid.

Irep: Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place! Wanda: Peri didn't quit! He was waiting for you to call! Cosmo: He thought you two were on a break! Me: ... ?????? Peri was waiting for Irep to call and take him back? Run that by me again??

... I legitimately cannot tell if they're addressing Dev or Irep. Irep was the last person to speak, but Dev speaks next. Rewinding and listening to the conversation again, I can use my context clues to see they're probably looking at Dev (who is offscreen), but ?? why would you frame it that ambiguously.

Did anyone else get confused here or was that just me?

Also this has done nothing to disprove my previous "Peri is clingy especially where break-ups are concerned" interpretation.

I like how the very first wish Dev makes in this scene isn't for his dad to love him, but for Bev to love him.

How many kids in this class have names that rhyme with Dev and why is he so determined to befriend them all?

?? Okay, so I was previously confused about Dev's friendships because I was pretty sure I remembered him saying in Episode 1 that he and Trev were friends, but we haven't seen them interact at all. I went back and checked, and here's what he says:

"That's Trev! He's my bud, so he probably won't give YOU the time of day."

I wish we got to see him hanging out with Trev. Did they split after Trev didn't come to his sleepover?

- I just checked; I don't see any evidence of Trev at Hazel's. - Hey, did Winn and Jasmine ever find out Hazel lied to them about living in a 5-star hotel? - In conclusion, we are being ROBBED of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad.

Looking back, it's very funny that Dev made an effort to introduce Hazel to people when she was the new kid despite that not being his job... including giving some glowing reviews of a few of their classmates, including "This guy's my bud, this person's cool, and I respect this other guy." He wants to talk...

Also, moon is full in New York.

I keep waiting for Irep's music to drop again, but it never does in this scene. It's stressing me out; why did it only drop in THAT scene?

The version I'm watching unfortunately doesn't include credits and I can't find it after a few quick searches, but if Guy Moon did the music for this episode and remembered how he used to do it for Foop and his alt personality when they would do their switch cues 14 years ago, and so when he saw that body language he did it again, I'm gonna lose it.

Surely not... But he had to do it for at least 3 seasons; maybe it just stuck??

I don't see him credited for A New Wish at all on his own IMBD or Wiki page either. idk who did this episode, but I liked it. Hi, I'm the target audience; it's me.

And Irep's still a leftie! Even after putting both hands on the mace handle to smash it down, it goes back to his left when he takes one hand off.

He even does the "sword fight" with his left hand. It's the boy!!!

?? Is Irep's hair both blue (like both his parents') AND black (the color his tuft was in the OG series)?

Are his roots black, but the color eases to dark blue the farther out it grows? That's fantastic!

I like how Peri's hair looks most like his mom's but with a faint slope implying his dad's influence is there, and Irep's hair best parallels his dad's, but he gets his curl from his mom.

Huh. Looks like we've retired the 5 magic colors and now we're just pink poofs and dark blue lightning. Which I'm okay with; I just wasn't paying attention until now. But I know lightning-shaped Anti-Fairy magic was canon in "School of Crock," maybe others.

This does deprive me of my usual 2nd-watch shtick of reading moods based on color. Alas.

I enjoy Hazel rescuing the news reporter, but letting her know that she's a big fan of her work.

Okay, Irep uses his right hand at the last second, but I consider this a win.

I went back and checked frame by frame because I'm a NERD, and funnily enough... It looks like he changes hands after Cosmo blasts him in the left arm. It's hard to tell with the poof cloud, but when you consider the direction he moved (buffeted backwards), that implies it was a left-side hit. It's probably just coincidence, but that's funny.

I like Dev's silly star shades during this scene:

Peri's back!! Old buddies, ol' counterpart pals... I love that teeny-tiny movement Peri makes with his fingers to symbolize air quotes around "quit."

"I never gave two weeks notice~!!"

Also, this definitely belongs in my collection of counterparts using the same body language for opposite moods. idk if we'll see more of that, but it excites me that my stash grows!

I like Peri patting Dev on the head.

"He's still my godkid! :)"

Ooh, snap. Local cousins (once removed) are here to lay down Da Rules, as von Strangles do.

Aw, I like how undoing Dev's cheating means Hazel ends up with the prize shirt. I guess that makes sense; it just wouldn't have been my first thought.

I'm glad adult Irep makes squeaky sounds when you squeeze him. I seem to remember OG Poof making squeaky sounds when he bounced off walls.

Aw, Peri having a happy hug with his parents again! Instead of him feeling like they're overbearing. That's great.

Peri once again proving he's a jealous, clingy ex. I don't think this kid was okay when he was pried away from Timmy and I don't think he took his parents' leaving him on his own for 10k years very well.

I really enjoy Peri's body language throughout this series. All his little twitches and arm rubs and flicking eyes... It says a million words. You could talk forever about him.

I enjoy Dev and Hazel a lot this series, but I think Peri's my favorite. With all his little anxieties and moments he avoids eye contact, you really get the sense that he's working through a lot of baggage.

I like how his instinct was to be honest with his parents and then he immediately regrets it and closes off his body language, avoiding eye contact. He retracts what he said and says something else that he thinks makes him look better. He's got a lot going on.

The fact that he makes this big, decisive head nod as he changes his story to claim he wasn't "jealously spying on Dev" after quitting as his godparent, but he was instead "very normally and confidently passing by" is fantastic. That's... not how people talk in normal conversation, Peri. But I'm glad you're telling me you struggle with confidence issues.

- I think everything I've seen of you supports that. You've been the biggest anxiety ball ever since you got here. - Peri is the guy who'd be on edge wondering if he did something to make everyone mad.

It took me forever to get the above screenshots so I had to keep rewinding, and I have to say... I'm obsessed with that itty-bitty head tilt he does to the left before he goes full right. Idk why it's there, but I like it. It's like a shrug, or like he's thinking through his lie? I enjoy.

Also that teeny-tiny head squirm when he's enjoying the hug with his parents. He's so cute.

Okay, that's pretty messed-up of Peri to laugh with his parents while Dev is in the background really upset. Like, Peri is literally talking about Dev behind his back

-> I wish they'd snuck hints of purple in the background to indicate Peri was there, like a milk carton or pencil or something.

-> I stand by everything I've previously said about Peri not being emotionally mature enough to godparent. His kid needs comfort after a tough experience! Dev just got snapped at and punished by authority and now he's sitting on the ground looking dejected, and Peri's over there giggling!

-> C'mon, man! Hazel clocked on and she's trying to do your job for you. She shouldn't have to do that! (Though it's nice of her to try comforting her friend).

Oop, Dev just yelled at Hazel (again) and Peri did not discourage or discipline him in any way, and tbh... I don't think he even noticed. Because he was laughing and talking about his godkid with his parents. Dude, get your crown in the game.

I love Hazel throwing her prize shirt in Dev's face and shouting that she "hopes it was worth it" <3

I still don't know how to spell O-pairs and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.

omg, Dev wants to learn about Anti-Fairies. Are we going to get lore and culture? Drama...

PERI, your godkid's running away!! Oh no, he can't hear us... he's got anxiety...

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

HEAR ME OUT— levi finally confessing his feelings for Y/N on new years

OMGGGGGGG THIS IS SO CUTE (this also ended up longer than i intended because i decided to add dialogue LMAO sorry)

i can imagine him doing it as a new year's resolution type of deal

like you'll be walking along the docks, with fireworks planned to go off across the bay. as you're watching the fireworks, he's intently watching you, his lips slightly parting as he appreciated the wonder in your eyes from watching the pretty colors, which were getting reflected off your face, painting your eyes with colors that made them seem to pop out even more to him than they already did

it's levi, so of course he'd be struggling even then over whether he should confess or not. i can see him maybe admitting it to himself a few weeks ago, but being unsure of when or how to tell you, or if he even should tell you. will it ruin your friendship? what if you didn't feel the same? what if he wasn't good enough for you?

but seeing you in those colorful lights, with nothing but innocent curiosity and awe in your eyes, gave him the resolve and desire to finally confess.

he'd be lost in you, and wouldn't even notice when you start trying to chat with him again after the fireworks show had ended and the new year had officially begun.

"what's your new years resolution?" you asked. "i'd probably say mine is trying to be cleaner at home, but i already know that's not gonna happen. you're probably going to have to come over to keep my shit together."

"you'd still be a shitshow even if you suddenly become a master at cleaning," he mentioned with a scoff.

"well?" you pressed with a head tilt, still prompting him to answer your question about his new year's resolution.

it took him a moment to respond.

"...probably be better at voicing how i feel without ignoring it."

"well, you never were good at words, were you?" you smirked as you casually teased him. "you just end up scowling at everyone, so people just think you're feeling grouchy all the time."

"and what about you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"what?"

"do you also think i'm nothing but grouchy?"

"hmm," you mumbled, thinking about what to say. "maybe 80% of the time. the other 20% seems to involve you being worried about something, usually if something wasn't clean enough or if you were going to run out of tea."

he snorted at your comment. you couldn't read the expression on his face, but it did seem like he was deep in thought, as if he was trying to formulate something to say. as you said, he was never good with words.

"well, let's start simple. what are you feeling right now?"

"...a little annoyed at how loud those damn fireworks were. a bit disappointed in how many drinks four-eyes had."

"well hange had been working their butt off trying to get their lab together after the holidays. they deserve to let a load off, even if that is being 5 shots in and playing dumb party games."

he averted his gaze as he tried to formulate his next words.

"...and probably confused," he whispered quietly.

"about?"

"there's this brat that's been pissing me off," he eventually said. "has been for a few years actually. and it pisses me off even more that part of me looks forward to it."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "you look forward to being pissed off?"

you saw him begin to shuffle around awkwardly.

"...only when it comes to them, i guess," he mumbled, still looking down towards the ground. "...kinda realized that i've grown quite fond of them, in a way as more than just friends, but that i've been too caught up in my head to really acknowledge it."

now you were the one frowning.

"levi ackerman actually having feelings for someone?"

there was a hint of astonishment and animosity in your voice as you turned to better face him, holding your hand against your waist in an almost accusatory fashion.

"who the hell is this mysterious person and why haven't i heard of them?"

he remained quiet for a moment before finally looking up, his intense, grey eyes looking directly into yours.

"you."

[lawtiee]

Chapter One - One That Got Away

Dont buy TLOU | Daily Click | Series Masterlist

Kinks/Warnings: Canon-typical violence, death, light gore, mild language, canon-typical setting

🎙️ Xan Says: Woo woo I really like this chapter actually! 😆 I did edit this late last night but for the most part there shouldn’t be many typos? But if there are, just ignore them. :p So anyways I hope you guys enjoy this! Also also, if you didn’t notice I added dialogue in from the game! I’m really proud of that but I think its a wee choppy but look past it for the love of god.

W/C: 1.1K

A loud bang wakes you from your sleep. You jolt awake, your dreams of a peaceful life fading away fast. You were familiar with the person standing before you — a new addition to the WLF that was learning quickly.

“Did you forget? We’re doing that raid on the village today. Issac told me to come find you. We have to go, now.” She said, obviously being in a rush. “Cmon, we have to go,” She’s trying to pull you up but you don’t move. “Seriously!” She stresses.

You were reluctant to leave for two reasons. One, the raid was poorly planned. It seemed like another one of Issacs plans for more bases all over Seattle. It was so fucking stupid. You had no other information other than you’d go in, wipe them out, and take over their village — horrible in the eyes of others but a-okay in the eyes of these soldiers. Second, because you were exhausted.

The large black clock on the wall of the dingy med-bay reads 09:45:06. Why was literally anyone willing to leave right now? You could barely see anything from how dark it had been, not to mention that it’d been raining out.

You weren’t really in the mood to hear anything from Issac or anyone else, so you drag your feet towards your worn backpack, retrieving your guns and snagging a med kit before following the girl. 

Rain water sloshes underneath your feet as you step out. You pull your hood over your head before you listen for instructions.

“Listen up!” Issac barks from the front of the group. “We’re raiding that island of Scars. Don’t hesitate, take anyone and everyone out immediately. Do we understand?” His voice was full of disdain when speaking about the Scars. A resounding “yes sir!” waves over the crowd. A few people break off into groups but of course, you were stuck with Issac and his posse.

You hated every second of this. You were shivering as it became slightly windy out, the trees swaying in the direction of the wind. Leaves are spread across the ground of all different shades.

Had you have been inside right now, the rain would’ve been peaceful. But now you hate every second of the rain. 

The trip to the village was long and hard. Seraphites were in your every corner. You heard the screams from your people and theirs. It was gruesome to say the least. This overall seemed like a death mission. It was too risky — it seemed like they had more people than you and god were they armed to the nines.

You can hear bullets in the distance mixed with your own. You’d never gotten used to the kickback on this new gun you’d stolen once on lookout, but you were trying it again.

You ignored the shoulder pain and you continued forward. Whistles vary from long to short, which you’d assumed was their way of communicating. These people might’ve been trained but you knew you were better.

In terms of skill, you and Abby were on the same level; albeit not like, exactly level. But you two had skills that could get you a spot as the “best Scar killers” compared to the other soldiers. 

You’re currently ducking behind a large truck as you reload your guns and wrap bandages around any scars that were visible to you at the moment.

“How did we let this happen?” A male Seraphite questioned. “I don’t know, but we’re ready.” Another male responds. But how ready were they? This was like a two-fer. They let their guards down just enough so that they hadn’t been paying much attention to their surroundings.

You aim your gun. Inhale. You line up your shot on the first guy, resting your finger on the trigger of your gun. Exhale. You pull the trigger and the bullet flies, landing in his forehead. The other guy looks around frantically, yelling and pointing his gun in any direction.

You sneak up behind him, putting him in a chokehold. “Not a word.” You grumble angrily, grunting with effort. When life slips away from his body, you toss him to the floor. Obviously you pick up their guns, inspecting them and taking the ammo out. Slim chance any of this could be useful anyway. 

You make your way back to your group, moving through the mainly cleared parts of the village. Boots sloshed in the mud and people screamed as your guns blazed. You switch to a pistol with a makeshift silencer. The gun, in your opinion, had been a bit faster than the one you were currently using.

“Maggie, is this area secure?” A man yells over gunfire. “It better be! We just mowed down these fucks. What’s the plan?” She responded while also firing her gun. “We’re heading to the capital. Take your team and clean the villages by the farmlands.” 

You listened to the conversation, and it intrigued you. You almost followed the woman but any ideas of that are gone as more Scars appear. “How many of these motherfuckers are on this island?” You grumbled. The bloodshed continued, more bodies dropped and weapons flew.

To the unarmed, scared people, this would’ve been a great area to snag a couple guns and whatnot from. You continue following behind Issac. For what it seems now, it was clear. Walking the streets was.. hard. Bodies of Seraphites and Wolves line the streets with gruesome injuries, blood gushing from their wounds. The sight of death always almost nearly made you gag, but you chose to ignore it.

Chatter passes through Issacs group. He was taking the group towards an old radio tower. You looked up into the distance and it didn’t seem to be very far away — maybe a few minutes give or take. You were glad that by now the rain wasn’t as hard as it was. It was quiet for a while, then gunshots rang out.

“More Scars ahead. Keep your head on a swivel.” Issac instructed. The groups ahead of you were fighting back, but it’s hard to tell if it’s a winning or a losing battle— but why would you care about that right now? You wanted to survive. Every man for himself. Horrible mentality to have obviously. But that’s just the way this crazy, fucked up world works. 

You join your team in the onslaught of killings, snapping necks and killing Scars that lunged at you. Some part of you wishes that this wasn’t so gruesome.

A gun fired. “Got one!” A guy from your team yells. Your head shoots up, looking towards him. “No! Yara!” A voice yells. You know this voice, it’s all too familiar to you. You couldn’t believe it. “Holy fuck, is that Abby?” 

[farfromstrange]

New Year's Day | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You recount your history with Matt and the highs and the lows of your relationship.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptive writing & lack of dialogue, mentions of blood, but this is mostly very tame

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This One-Shot is dedicated to my bestie, @blackshadowswriter. I'm a bit late, and I'm sorry for that. It took me a bit to finish. I just want to tell you how much I love and appreciate you. I also know you love Taylor, so I thought "why not write a fic and use as many song references as possible? She's going to LOVE that!" You're my favorite person in the world and you deserve this. I love you. I'm all out of words because I'm anxious as hell about showing you this. It took me two days to finish. I wanted it to be as good as I could make it. I'm still not 100% sure, but I never am when it comes to giving gifts. I hope you like it <3 (This is also why I'm not tagging anyone else because this is a gift for my best friend and I intended it as such)

From the moment you bumped into him on the corner street of your favorite café, you knew that he was the kind of chance that would only come around once in a lifetime.

It wasn’t like you, at least not back then, to buy a stranger a coffee. And it was even less like you to give him your number afterward.

You had never been big on dating at that point in your life. You used to take things exactly the way they came to you, and dating never really seemed to fit into that narrative.

You preferred to lose yourself in your own world, a world where no one could touch or hurt you the way you’ve been hurt so many times in the past by people who claimed to care about you—people who claimed to love you, and in the process, you lost sight of the fact that there are still a handful of good people out there.

No one can blame you for thinking like that though. Your heart has been broken one too many times, and not just by broken relationships. 

Deep down, you craved to find someone capable of understanding all of you, not just the pretty parts. You almost felt pathetic for pretending you didn’t need it and still thinking that way.

But deep down, you craved to find someone who wouldn’t be afraid of sticking around, someone who would never leave you because life tends to get hard.

It seemed nearly impossible to find a person like that without breaking your own heart, so you decided to retreat into your shell. Better to keep your heart safe and protected than put yourself out there and be broken all over again, right?

Those stupid love songs on the radio and the endless romantic stories of your friends’ dating lives, however, fueled your need for the same kind of connection only a few songwriters know how to put into words.

You wanted to fall in love, find the right person, and heal. You wanted to figure out why love wasn’t like the burning red of sex and passion but golden, like daylight. A love living for. A love fighting for.

You felt so stupid, secretly pining for an innocent childhood dream that eventually got crushed after years of heartbreak, but that is what happens when someone becomes chronically lonely. You turned to daydreaming because at least in your head, your life could be perfect. Not just good, not just livable, but filled with love and happiness.

Truth be told, when you’re your own worst enemy and have an inner saboteur set out to destroy everything that could be remotely good for you because you truly believe you don’t deserve it, it’s hard to allow yourself to be open. So perhaps that is why you chose to lock yourself away and live in delusion instead. Not facing reality became standard procedure in your way of life.

You tried blaming it on your past, your broken relationships, and disappointments, and while that played a big part in your trauma, you also slowly started to realize that you might have been hurting yourself so you wouldn’t have to open up ever again.

In an attempt to erase all the problems, you became the problem. You became your worst enemy, someone chasing ghosts that stayed long in the past and only came back to haunt the living shit out of you. But that’s a survivable condition. 

You tried therapy, you tried turning your life around and starting anew, and while that helped you find a job you love, find a nice group of friends, and make peace with what’s been broken, nothing else seemed to change. 

You had barely started putting yourself back together again when you bumped into him. You were late for a meeting, so your focus was on your phone instead of the street before you.

It was your fault. He was just trying to make his way over the sidewalk, his cane tapping in a steady rhythm to make his way forward, and you stepped right in the middle of it. 

You remember him grabbing your arm, catching you before you could fall. He wasn’t even irritated. When you looked up in shame, seeing the red glasses and the came, you begged for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t looking. Are you okay?”

But before you could go on a rant about your stupidity, he cut you off, and in the silkiest voice possible, he said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Are you?” 

“What?”

“Are you okay? You seem in a bit of a rush. Don’t want you to accidentally bump into a car next.” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “That was a bad joke, sorry.”

You just about melted. “It’s okay,” you found yourself chuckling. “And so am I. I was too focused on my phone. That was my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It happens,” he said. He was so calm about it, unlike other New Yorkers you’ve met before.

Maybe the fact that you found him extraordinarily attractive and easy to be around compelled you to ask if you could buy him a cup of coffee to make up for bumping into him, completely abandoning your plans to make it to your work meeting five minutes late.

He introduced himself as Matthew. A lawyer. Not one of those rich defense attorneys who simply do it for the money. No, he does it to help people, and you fell for him right then and there. 

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was just dumb luck, but that day, when you got home after work, his number in your phone and a stupidly giddy smile on your flushed face, you knew that you’d somehow been enchanted to meet him. 

You never believed in love at first sight until you bumped into Matt Murdock, but the second you did, your life flipped upside down and changed in ways you could have never predicted. 

It is possible that the song playing over the speakers in the café right before you bumped him played a part in how you perceived the interaction. You’ve never been one to believe in coincidences. Nothing is ever accidental, and neither was your meeting. It couldn’t have been. 

You found each other when you needed someone, anyone, both of you, and it stuck. Thankfully, it did. 

Summer that year was cruel with New York drowning in an excruciating heatwave. You’d been meeting up with Matt for a couple of weeks, but you didn’t have it in you to put a label on whatever delicate thing was starting to build between the two of you. You didn’t want to wrap your hand around it and accidentally shatter something you could see growing into something more in the future. 

He was unlike anyone you’d met before, and he treated you in a way that made you believe, finally, that you are worthy of love. Not just giving but receiving because Matt himself struggled to see his worth after years of being disappointed and being there for everyone but himself. 

Love is a fragile thing though, and you have never been quite good with fragile things.

After a night of drinking away your sorrows at a nearby bar, you made your way to his apartment. You took a cab, too wasted to find your way there by yourself. You remember that you were crying; you were miserable and loathing yourself for several reasons that didn’t even make sense to you then.

When you arrived there, you knocked on his door. You didn’t get an answer. Just as you started to turn around and make your way back outside, you could hear a thud from the other side of the door. Panic settled in. You didn’t even hesitate before you opened the door, which was surprisingly unlocked, and made your way into the dark interior of his apartment. 

Finding your blind, catholic not-boyfriend in a pool of his own blood, wearing a leather-clad suit with the horns of the devil had not been on your to-do list until that night. Reality hit you just as fast and knocked sobriety back into your senses as the adrenaline started to take over. 

He let out a grunt. Your name passed his lips. He sounded so weak, so fragile, and you just stood there, your heart pumping too much blood for your body to handle. 

“What the fuck?!” you said. You didn’t yell, you didn’t snap, you simply didn’t know how to process this information. 

You were well aware of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen parading outside at night, beating up criminals and giving them a good fright—Matt did not fit the picture you had of the guy until you saw him lying there, obviously injured. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said hoarsely. He tried to roll over, but the pain turned out to be too severe. 

Needless to say, he passed out on you without a proper explanation, and you somehow had to use what little you could remember from first-aid to help this bleeding mess of a man. You feared that you would lose him that night, and that was when you realized that, on top of falling for him, you didn’t care who he was, you only needed him to live.

When he woke up to you hovering over him, he groaned. “I’m sorry,” was all he said. “I’d understand if–”

“Don’t talk,” you cut him off with a finger on his lips. You wouldn’t let him push you away. Not after everything you’d been through.

He tried to sit up. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“It’s not exactly something you lead with on a first date. I get it. What I don’t get…”

“I didn’t lie,” it was his turn to cut you off. You remember looking up at him, and you heard him out. You had to. In your mind, there is an explanation for everything, and you were once again proven right at that moment.

He bared his life story to you, how he survived through tragedies no human should ever have to face. How he turned blind, how his senses heightened, and how he lost the one person he could always count on. When his father died, something changed in Matt. He tried to go straight, to do his father proud, but he couldn’t ignore this desperate need for justice forever. He felt cursed. So, he became someone who could make a difference, and not just as a lawyer.

He expected you to walk out, but you didn’t. You saw him for who he was, and you accepted him.

“I think I’m falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me,” you blurted out that night.

He stared at you, his unfocused eyes bewildered, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to find an answer.

Just when you thought he would break your heart after putting your trust in him, he let out a shaky sigh and he kissed you.

He wasn’t ready to say it back just yet, but he spoke to you through actions that made you feel confident in what you were growing again.

You somehow already knew back then that Matt Murdock would be the man you one day would marry and spend the rest of your life with. 

The truth is, you two have been through a lot throughout your relationship. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t worth it. 

From the moment you met him to the countless dates, sharing coffees over empty takeout containers, kissing in the rain, Daredevil, fighting over the beautiful women in his life that almost broke you, and fighting over his desperate need to push those away who only want what is good for him because he is own worst saboteur.

It all led you down a journey that turned out to be harder than expected and not at all the love story you envisioned, but it still turned out to be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He is the best thing that has ever happened to you. 

You used to run away from happiness out of fear of getting hurt, and Matt did the same. He feared to admit it, but then he met you and he finally realized that running was of no use because you were more than ready to stick around through everything. Through every disaster and heartache—through every broken bone, you stuck around.

You saw something in him from the moment you met that no one can ever take away. You got a taste of heaven from the devil himself, and even though he was darker than the sunshine you wished for in your life, you managed to find a way to bring some light into his life. 

You are sunshine, even on your worst days, and he’s midnight rain. But you love the rain. You love him. 

Your first kiss happened in the rain. He took your hand and asked you to dance, and you did. You danced to the sound of the raindrops pattering against the asphalt beneath your feet, and it was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—Matt engulfed in the soft moonlight, his hand in yours, and a big smile on his irresistible lips. 

You want more of those nights. Even the nights you’ve had to patch him up or hold him as he broke down from all the weight he often enough carries on his shoulders, you want more of those. You want all of them.

You want him and all the strings attached to him, no matter how painful because ever since he can remember, people have walked out on Matt and hurt him in ways you can only fathom. You don’t want to be that person. 

He opened up to you. He decided to be vulnerable. He stood with you through everything and fought for you when you thought you two wouldn’t last.

He gave you his best smile and his tears, and he laughed with you every night that you waited up for him to come home safely. He quickly became the moonlight to your sun—it is a different kind of light, but it is a light that sustains you nonetheless. 

You want all of his laughter and never miss it again. You want his smiles. You want his tears. You want to spend every waking second with him. You want to miss him and welcome him back home after an agonizingly long night of worrying. You want to cheer him up in court and be his lucky charm. You want to wear his initial on a chain around your neck, in Braille, because he got it for you on your birthday. 

“I know I don’t own you,” he said to you, “but I love you. And I know you. I want you to carry me close to your heart the same way I’ll always carry you close to mine.”

And his, you are. You’re no one else’s but his, and even if that sounds a bit territorial, you don’t care. You want all of it and more because it’s Matt you’re talking about, no one else. Not a stranger but the man you love so desperately it hurts sometimes.

All the girls he loved before don’t matter because he’s got you now. You forgave him more times than he probably deserved. You held on when he barely had any strength left. In return, he has shown the same kind of devotion to you time and time again. How can you ever say no to any of that when you are so in love? 

All those memories replay in sudden flashing sequences right in front of your inner eye. You love him more than anyone has ever loved him. You pulled him out of a very dark hole. You saved his life. And he saved yours. 

As he’s kneeling in front of you now, your hand in his and clutching the small, velvety box in his other, your life passes by before your eyes. Your life alone and your life together. You recount every memory in a millisecond, too shocked to even comprehend what is happening. But it is happening. 

Matt Murdock is kneeling on the floor before you, the glitter, confetti, and sticky champagne someone spilled earlier most likely leaving a stain on his good dress pants, but he remains unwavering in his decision to open that little box and show you what he’s been hiding for a while. 

It’s a diamond ring, something he probably took months to save up for. It’s small yet elegant, and it’s staring right at you. He’s taken his glasses off to try and do the same. You would marry him with paper rings, that much is true. 

Matt says your name oh-so-softly. “Will you marry me?” Four words that stop your heart and restart it at the same time. 

He sees right through you. You see right through him. Even in your worst times, you were there for each other, and now he’s asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Together. To give him all of your days and nights and he will give you all of his in return. He is asking you the question you’ve been wondering if he would ever ask it, and he did. 

The fireworks go off in the distance, in your stomach, everywhere. The new year has rounded the corner. People are cheering and celebrating around you, but you don’t pay attention to them. 

The clock strikes midnight and with the softest smile, you say, “Yes.” You don’t need to tell him that you would do it a million times over because he knows. He knows your heartbeat, and he knows that you would never lie to him. 

He doesn’t waste time to pull you into his arms and kiss you softly, passionately, as if both of your lives depend on it. 

It’s a bit cliché, to get proposed to on New Year’s Eve. To start the new year with the man you love and a ring on your finger. But that only means that you will still be together on New Year’s Day, and all the days after that. 

Matt chose you. You chose Matt. You chose a life together that is as unpredictable as they come, but at least you have each other to hold onto. 

And he will never be just the stranger that you bumped into in front of your favorite corner café ever again. You have him now. Maybe that was your plan all along. Maybe you are the mastermind he knows that you are. None of it was accidental. 

And now, Matt Murdock is yours. Forever and always. 

[nerendus]

Okay, this is a little bit of a tangent ramble about Miquella and may not make the most of sense, but bear with me.

I know baseline the PC's motivations are going to be left up to the player, but I do love how Fromsoft sets up the player's motivations for killing Miquella.

Because at first, based on the dialogue options you have with Freyja specifically, it appears you come to the shadowlands to be somewhat of service of Miquella, but then you go meet St. Trina who asks you to kill him, and that's why you end up fighting him. Because it doesn't necessarily make sense to fight him if you just wanted his Great Rune like the Tarnished are inclined to want, you would just fight the sunflower if that was the case.

But other than St. Trina wanting him dead--not out of revenge but as a way of freeing him from the shackles of godhood--, another reason the PC would want him dead is because he is most certainly to end up like Marika.

Miquella is not a villain. The cutscene of him from as an Empyrean is very much of him having naive innocence of wanting to make the world a better place. I'm still a little confused as to why Empyrean!Miquella thought that Radahn could help him reach those goals (other than the whole Godwyn eclipse thing), but I feel like I know fully why Radahn would be of great service of God!Miquella.

Miquella's motivations for becoming a god is first and foremost to heal Malenia. That's why he left the Golden Order and that's why the Haligtree was created. Along the way, he came to realize the injustice of the Omen and every creature that lives outside the Golden Order's grace as well as the cruelty of Godwyn's murder, and it all ties into him needing to become a god to fix all the injustices he sees around him.

To pass through the divinity gate and become a god, Micky had to strip himself of who he was before. His flesh, his love, his other self, they all had to be ripped from him in order for him to ascend, and that's where he became unsaveable.

St. Trina tells us that godhood would be a prison for him, but not only that, becoming a god means that he will end up like Marika. If he separates himself from his love to become a god, how is he supposed to save the people he loves once he ascends?

At the point that we fight him, I don't think he is anywhere close to "evil", but he would eventually get to that point. He already charms many of the NPCs, however, I feel inclined to mention that at that point, he wasn't exactly mind-controlling them. Ansbach's dialogue is still riddled with a sense of suspicion before the charm is ever lifted, and quite a few of them seem almost aware of the fact that they are charmed but they can't do anything about it. The only time I think he is fully mind-controlling someone is the player character after he does his grab attack twice.

And the reason why the god Miquella wanted to use Radahn is that I think he knows at that point war is inevitable. I think if we left him alone, he would eventually attack the Golden Order. Which, is fine, at first. But once you fight the soldiers of the Golden Order, what if that one day extends to its people it serves? And what if you find another civilization that you deem needing to be saved from another civilization, or if someone threatens your new order? In that sense, he is destined to end up in the same situation as his mother.

Which is why I love the lore attached to Marika in this DLC. At first, she may have only attacked the armies of the Hornsent, but I think one day it just extended to all of its people regardless of their innocence or guilt in the slaughter of her people. The lore of her past serves as a warning for what will become of Miquella if we allow him to become a god.

And one of St. Trina's last words is to kill him in order to grant him forgiveness. If we kill Miquella before he has the chance to return to the Lands Between, he could still die as an innocent being unlike Marika.

[its-storminghere]

Carcar accidental baby acquisition where Carlos ends up taking in a baby and Oscar is the one to help him out

Okay so this trope can be really hard for me because for the life of me I don’t know how they get that baby but I’m doing this for you!! Sorry it’s actually about a toddler not a baby

Okay so Lando is hosting a big family event not related to F1, maybe his wedding (you can pick your own adventure on this one) Some F1 people are there including Oscar and Carlos but it’s a big group of people. Oscar and Carlos make some small talk at a couple of points but really they’re just mingling and enjoying the afternoon.

The children in lando’s family l o v e Carlos sooo much. He’s just the ideal of what a cool race car driver should be (as opposed to Lando who is just uncle Lando who likes to play video games and play golf with the adults, sorry Lando), but even better than that he’s FUN and he plays GAMES with them and he brings his DOG!! He’s been around enough over the years that the kids are devoted to him and obviously he loves being loved and he loves family

So plot plot plot, dialogue dialogue dialogue, Oscar is chatting with Lando and Carlos is near them getting a toddler game of footie going. Of course all the moms (and some of the dads) are all gooey-eyed about how good carlos is with the kids. Truly my own ovaries are screaming as I write this

And Oscar is seeing this and internally rolling his eyes because ohhh yes isn’t Carlos just the greatest, he’s so perfect with his hair and his driving like an asshole and his sexy voice - He hears enough about that at work, and now that they’ve been running into each other on the track all of his interviews mention Carlos too. But, he thinks, whatever, I’m here to support Lando in this unspecified special event

But then!!! The few security guys Lando hired are telling everyone to get inside because apparently there’s INTRUDERS who broke in that want to cause people harm!!! (Idk man)

So in the shuffle and the chaos one of the little kids attaches herself to Carlos and won’t let go!! Because her parents always told her to stay with trustworthy adults and she trusts Carlos!! He let her play footie even though she’s younger than the other kids!!

And someone the two of them end up with Oscar smushed into a small bathroom. And they’re trying to be quiet but the little girl is scared!! And Carlos sees that and he brushes her hair off her face and hushes her. It can be like a game!! He tells her. We’ll play with Oscar. I have to hide and you have to find me! The little girl’s sniffling stops and she looks up at them. Carlos looks at Oscar like back me up here man.

What’s Oscar gonna do but go along?? So he shows her how to cover her eyes with her hands and they count to 5 very slowly together so Carlos can “hide.” When they open their eyes the little girl immediately starts giggling because look Os-cah!!! Mr. Carlos is right there!! He’s hiding behind the shower curtain!!

And Oscar and Carlos make such a big deal about her winning and they tell her how smart she is. But now the game is over and they still haven’t gotten the ok to leave. So, Oscar says it’s his turn to hide, and while Carlos and the little girl count, he crouches behind Carlos’s broad back. He’s eye level with the hair just curling down Carlos’s muscular neck.

Before he knows it the 5 seconds are up and the little one is looking for him. Carlos looks at her very seriously, points behind himself, and winks. Then he turns and dives onto Oscar, wrapping his arms around Oscar’s torso and pulling him around so the girl can see him. And as Oscar feels Carlos’s big hands holding him, he’s like. Woah. Okay. Maybe Carlos is that great

And then the little girl hides and both guys pretend they can’t find her until they get the okay to go back outside. And they bring the girl back to her parents and she immediately informs them that Mr Carlos and Mr os-cah are her new best friends forever and they all need to have a playdate right now. Oscar is looking over at Carlos and thinking, yeah, maybe the two of us do need to have a playdate

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02