#failed rescue indeed

[mxtxfanatic]

Jiang Cheng’s clown transformation:

Jin GuangYao continued, seemingly without a care whether Jiang Cheng was actually listening, and said, “Sect Leader Jiang, I heard that you made a big scene at the Lotus Pier last night, seemingly without reason. I hear that you were running all over the place with the Yiling Patriarch’s sword, and asking everyone to unsheath it.”

–Chapt. 101: “A Hatred For Life” Part 4, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Jin GuangYao’s eyes were ablaze when he said, “I also heard that no one can unsheath that sword, yet you’ve somehow managed to do it. Now that’s just weird. The sword had already sealed itself thirteen years ago when I first took it into my collection. Aside from the Yiling Patriarch himself, it should be impossible for anyone to unsheath......”

Smiling, Jin GuangYao continued talking without a care, “Which made me remember that back in the days, Young Master Wei had truly been arrogant. He would never bring his sword anywhere with him, and each time he would find a different excuse for it. I’ve always found it very strange. Don’t you?”

Jin GuangYao raised his voice. “Sect Leader Jiang, you truly are exceptional. The youngest sect leader alive, single-handedly rebuilding the Yunmeng Jiang Sect from scratch. I truly admire you. But from my memories, weren’t you always second place next to Mister Wei WuXian in terms of everything? Would you kindly enlighten me on how you’ve managed to reverse your positions after the Sunshot Campaign? Did you take some miracle elixir for your golden core?!”

Wei Wuxian kept the secret. Wen Ning only revealed it to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji literally does not gossip and has no reason to say anything otherwise. Jiang Cheng is literally the reason everyone knows about the golden core transfer LOL

[writingescapades]

Gratitude

Aventurine x Bodyguard Reader

He found you digging through the trash. Months of tracking you down led to nothing, and he was on the verge of giving you up when his luck rang through once again. Deciding to not waste the moment, he approached you and smiled when he saw how quickly your muscles reflexed into a ready stance despite your shabby appearance and weakened state. Always out for yourself. As expected of a mercenary.

He offered you the position right there. Be his bodyguard, and in exchange, well all the money you could possibly imagine.

“And I’m sure your pursuers will back off once they know you’re under the IPC”.

It was to be a formal relationship. An exchange of services. He made the contract, and you signed it.

“At least read it once before you sign it. You don’t know what I will be asking from you,” Aventurine cautioned.

“I don’t need to read to know what I’m getting myself into,” you replied calmly.

Indeed you never questioned your role, and very quickly established yourself as Aventurine’s silent shadow. Rumours spread that his murky character was only your shadow. That his eyes bewitched while yours homed in on the attack. Everyone soon watched their tongue around the IPC manager, least they find it cut by your sword. Sometimes Aventurine wondered if he really knew what he was getting himself into. Other times, he intentionally pushed you to see what it would take to make you snap from your calm demeanour. Impossible missions ranging from late night escapades, rescue missions, even getting up at 2 am to get him a snack. You bore it all with no malice. Truly, you were dangerous.

You had no friends and made no attempt to create new friends. They were possible attempts on his life was the rational you provided. Even if you wanted friends, Aventurine mused, no one would dare approach someone they knew might harm them, not in this stratum of society where foes and friends of the IPC were treated alike. Stuck with him, he supposed he could offer you a modicum of friendship. If only to stave off the loneliness of two people. He found himself exchanging slights of hand tricks, and asking questions to which your answers had him honestly laughing. It was fun, Aventurine realized, to have this banter between you within the familiarity of your roles. You were taciturn, but woe betide the fool who assumed nothing more lay behind your professional face.

It started with a mission plan. Late a night, echoes of the casino music and laughter reached to his hidden chambers where the IPC manager stayed up planning a stealth attack. Struggling over how to extract himself from the danger, he almost forgot you were there until he saw your arm reach over and readjust the plan. A sudden change of view and Aventurine’s problems fell away. He looked up at you only to see a gleam in your eyes as you stared at the mission plan. You were in your element.

“Foolish of me to not see things that way,” he murmured.

“Late night thoughts are dangerous, sir”.

There were several more moments like these. Nights when he awoke to sounds and only found you cleaning up. You would turn towards him and ask him in a gentle voice to go back to bed. The blood was always gone by morning. Another when he arrived to see his dinner had been eaten by you. Perspiration appeared on your forehead, and you began to wheeze. Still you quietly begged forgiveness, claiming that your hunger was uncontrollable. It was your duty, yet Aventurine didn’t understand why your actions carried such a depth of emotions within them. Worse yet, Aventurine didn’t understand why he grew concerned over you. It was your responsibility. So why did he wait till he heard you stop cleaning before slipping back to bed? Why did he panic over your poisoned state, ushering you to induce vomiting without a care for his clothes.

The turning point occurred during a casino night. Caught up in the moment, Aventurine failed to notice a pair of cold eyes, staring hard not at him but at his hand, the one that always stayed near his person when he played. All of a sudden, he could feel your presence near him, gently leaning into him, hiding his hand away from the world. He stared at you, but you stared ahead, challenging the eyes that dared to cast a glance at that which you protected so fiercely. He didn’t know when you noticed his habit, but for some reason, didn’t find it all that alarming that the one person to find out his secret was you. He knew you would keep it safe.

You became his confidant soon after. A hundred secrets, but a thousand smiles. For the first time laughter tailed Aventurine’s shadow, and people stopped differentiating between you both. Rumours began to spread, rumours Aventurine neither confirmed nor denied. He knew the emotion that linked the two of you. Gratitude. He hated it. Relations formed on such a flimsy emotion are quickly manipulated and broken. Like misery, the emotion wafted through life. It’s why he never questioned the second mug you left for him, or the extra plate of food. It’s what he told himself when you took his exhausted body to bed, gently stroked his head, and didn’t flinch when he screamed out at night and clenched your hand, nails digging deep enough to leave crescent-shaped tears.

Too scared to ask for more, Aventurine sustained his life on temporality. He once gave you a gift. Nothing but a miniature coin attached to a pin, but you had yet to remove it from your appearance. He told himself, he just wanted to thank you. It was also why he insisted on helping you clean your wounds, slowly tracing over your marred skin, gently asking if you were still alright. If you were still alive. Still with him. Enjoy the moment. Don’t ask for more.

So why was it that this particular moment had him far more upset than the situation warranted? In the white noise of the casino where glamour trumps sensibility, a gentleman had the gall to approach Aventurine. Accustomed to the routine, Aventurine watched the man wager a high stake. Like bees to honey, eyes swarmed the two men as they ascended the ladder of fate. As usual, no one saw Aventurine’s hand shake or the exhale when the odds came into his favour once more. As expected, the distraught man slipped out insults at his opponents. Sighing, Aventurine slipped into his role of providing superficial comfort. What he did not expect was the silver glint. A sudden clash of metal, and the click of a gun.

You were in front of him, blocking Aventurine from having to see the poor excuse of a human being. The gentleman’s dagger was pathetic in comparison to your sword and the gun you jammed into his head.

“The game is over, sir. Take your losses and go home”.

“You work for a cheat! A Scoundrel!”

Aventurine pressed his glasses closer to his eyes and smiled. Really, the man had guts to continue to insult when death stood right in front of him.

You easily flicked away the dagger.

“Hold your tongue. Leave now”.

The gentleman’s eyes narrowed as he registered you and your role. His lips curled and he sneered, “And here comes the guard dog, protecting its master”.

Aventurine gripped his hand and felt the engraving on the coin within, press into his skin. His lips thinned but he remained silent.

“A master worth protecting”.

Now both men looked at you, clearly shocked by your statement. Then the gentleman scoffed and snatched his hat.

“You’ve got them trained well, Gambler. But you better yoke them before they land you in trouble”.

You watched the man until he left the room. Behind, you could hear Aventurine lazily count his winnings. Clatter. Clatter. Clatter. The sound of each coin bounced off the room. Aventurine was upset. You sighed.

“I don’t like you accepting such talk!” the man sputtered out. It always amused you when he did this, concern choking his suave side.

“The man was angry. Let him bark,” you grinned at him. “I’m the one who bites”.

Aventurine turned his head away from you, failing to hide his smile. The he reached his hand out to you. Taking the cue, you sat near him. He shook off his glasses and placed his head on your shoulder. When you made no move to remove his head, he let it sink down as you buried your hands into his hair.

“Am I really worth protecting?” A quiet whisper came out.

“Yes”.

“I’m not your master,” this time the voice was firmer.

You hesitated. “The contract,”

“Damn the contract! You’re—We’re—. You can leave anytime you want!”

Silence hung in the air as you both pressed closer.

“I didn’t mean that,” Aventurine murmured, hand reaching for yours.

You placed you head on top of his. “Late night thoughts are dangerous, dear”.

Aventurine closed his eyes, feeling the edges of sleep flow in. There would be no going back now, but Aventurine found himself ready to slip off into the unknown, because now you were there, guarding his back. Was it gratitude? Maybe. But maybe, just perhaps. It was the start of something stronger. Something better that would etch itself upon his soul, overriding all the other scars.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Eighteen - New beginnings

A new season has begun. You had watched many families return to the city over the last few days. London has been alive with people, and it was thrilling to see.

You and your mother had stayed in the city all year round. There was no point in going to the country on the account that you had no country house to return to anymore. Having failed to wed last year, your uncle, who had been supporting you and your mother, had pulled back. He saw you as a failure, and you have decided to take that in stride, for this was a new season and a new opportunity to find a husband.

Of course, there was one family in particular you were most excited to see return to London. Your dear friends in the Bridgerton house.

They had arrived already, but you had yet to go and see them. Daphne was going to be the last to arrive. She had told you in one of her letters, so you were going to wait for her to arrive before seeing them. You intend to see them after Eloise's debut.

Eloise Bridgerton is a feisty soul. A young woman who knows her own worth and will not settle for less. You adore her. Perhaps this year you could spend some more time to her, that would certainly be fun.

Your letters with the Bridgerton's were all you had for company since last summer. You had missed them dearly. There was on in particular you missed most, not that you would ever tell him that.

Benedict Bridgerton.

For a little while after the Bridgerton's returned to Aubrey Hall, you had dreamt about Benedict. It had been a very confusing time indeed. You would wake up suddenly feeling rather... hot and bothered. Sometimes, you swore you could hear his voice, but you knee you were dreaming.

You didn't know why you dreamt of him. Eventually, you managed to stop. The mkre time that passed, the less he haunted your dreams, and you could sleep peacefully.

Yes, a confusing time indeed.

You were dressed for the debut ceremony. Violet was hoping you would attend with them, but you stated you would simply meet them inside. You were sure she would be disappointed by this, but you needed more time to prepare yourself to see them again. To see him again...

You and your mother stood together inside. Your arm was looped around hers. The queen was already present, waiting. She was looking for another diamond.

Daphne's match with Simon Bassett last year shook the ton. They had been a perfect match, and you were sure it would not be easy to make such another spectacular pair. However, you knew the queen, and she would not accept anything less than perfect.

The door opens, and people start to trickle in. It isn't long before you see the Bridgerton's enter. The moment Benedict steps into the room, his eyes find yours, and he smiles. That cute crooked little smile.

You smile back at him.

There is no time to catch up and chat while in the presence of the queen, so he will simply have to wait until later to talk to you. Daphne comes up to the other side of you and smiles, greeting you with a quiet "Hello."

One by one, the young ladies making the debut come before the Queen. Each one looks as beautiful as the last. Then Eloise makes her entrance.

She stands frozen in fear as everyone looks at her. You feel sorry for her. You know she doesn't want any of this. You think she's about to move when someone comes up to the queen and whispers something to her. You watch curiously as the queen then stands up.

It seems Lady Whistledown is to the rescue.

She's back. The ton's favourite gossip column. Just like that it's all over. Eloise flees and Violet chases after her daughter.

You look at Daphne who looks disappointed.

You follow everyone out as they leave. Benedict tries to come up beside you, but there's too many people trying to exit for him to talk to you properly.

You stand outside and look at the gossip column your mother managed to get her hands on. Lady Whistledown is, in fact, back for another season.

Dearest gentle reader.

Did you miss me?

It's going to be another eventful season.

It wasn't until back at the Bridgerton house that you and Benedict managed to actually talk to oen another. Between Eloise and Violet falling out a little after the disaster of the debut, and being whisked away by Daphne to join her in her carriage, neither you or Benedict had a moment to talk.

He was eager to speak with you again. You were standing by the window conversing with Francesca, whom you seemed eager to chat with. His sister was a little different from her siblings. Quieter, gentler, more reserved. Yet, you were making her most comfortable. Benedict was glad she had a friend to talk to.

However, he still wanted your attention. He walks over to you both and greets his sister first. Francesca gets the idea and excuses herself. You chuckle softly and look up at Benedict.

"Impatient?"

"Slightly. I've been waiting all day to talk to you."

"All day?" You chuckle. "It's been merely a couple hours."

"Alright. All year." He grins.

"Goodness. You've waited all year? How did you cope?" You tease him.

"Misreably."

You both chuckle softly with each other, and then it goes quiet between you. You take a moment to look at him. He's hard a haircut since you've last seen him. He looks more refined. A gentleman.

You don't think you've changed much.

"You didn't come to Aubrey Hall upon, may I state, all our invites."

You glance away awkwardly. "No."

"Why didn't you come up?" He asks softly. He had missed you dearly, but when you never showed up to the country house, or declined very invite, his heart sunk a little lower each time.

"I've been busy here."

"Busy?"

"With my lessons," you clarify.

"What lessons?"

You sigh softly. "I've been working hard all off-season to make myself... well, more desirable. More perfect."

Benedict was caught off guard by your words. He had never heard something mkre ridiculous than that. "How can you be more perfect when you've already achieved that status?"

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard.

"That's nonsense. You can't possibly have anything to approve. You're already wonderful," he tells you.

"Benedict... Mother and I have no support... my uncle, who was looking after us beforehand, had deserted us. Because I did not manage to get a proposal last season, he has seen me as a failure, and therefore, mother and I must stay in the city with what funds we have. I cannot fail again."

Benedict's expression fell as you spoke. "You have no suspport? What happens when the money runs out?"

"I don't know..."

Benedict was concerned about this news. When Violet walked in, Benedict called over his mother. She approaches with a smile, though you know she has just returned from talking with Eloise, which is certainly n easy feat right now.

Benedict tells his mother what you told him. Violet seems shocked.

"Anthony!"

Before you know it, the eldest brother is approaching. You almost wish you had kept your mouth shut. Violet tells Anthony what Benedict had told her.

Anthony looks furious. "How dare he?"

"It's my own fault," you say.

"No. Not at all, dear." Violet takes your hands in hers. "He is a foolish man to have such expectations of you in a single year."

"Daphne did it..."

"Daphne is a different story," Violet tells you softly. "I have an idea. Anthony, will you be so grateful to take her under your wing and support her this season?"

You shake your head at him, but Anthony is already nodding. "It will be my pleasure. I can put together some funds for your dowry. You shall be in good hands."

"Anthony... I can't accept that!" You look at him with both awe and shock.

"Of course you can." He smiles at you.

Benedict looks at you. "We can help you."

You look at all three of them and feel yourself becoming a little emotional. Did they care about you so much they would go this far to look after you?

"Are you sure?" You ask.

Each of them nod and smile.

"You have no idea how much that would mean to me." You look at Anthony. "Thank you so much."

"You need not thank me. It is the least I can do," he tells you.

"Still, this means a lot. Mother won't have to worry anymore. Really, thank you."

Violet reaches for your hands and takes both your hands in hers. She smiles warmly at you, the way a mother would smile at her child. She is like mother to you. One who spent some time last season trying to push you toward her sons. You have to laugh.

"Stick by me, dear. I shall look after you."

You smile and give her hands a gentle squeeze. "I'd be lost without you."

Benedict watches the two of you interact. He loves how you've sort of inserted yourself into his family. You fit right in. You'd make a fine Bridgerton.

"Now I have three people to pair up," Violet says proudly.

"Three?" You ask. You knew Eloise was one. Yourself makes two.

"Eloise, you, and Anthony!"

You look at Anthony with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "You? You're looking for a wife this year? Here I was thinking you would remain a bachelor until at least all your family had married first." You giggle.

Anthony rolls his eyes as Violet laughs softly at your teasing. Benedict chuckled, too, not even pretending not to find it funny.

"Yes, very amusing."

"You haven't even heard his conditions for a wife yet," Benedict says, nudging your arm lightly.

"Oh? Do tell."

Anthony lifts his head up proudly, hands behind his back, looking like the Viscount he is. "She must be someone I will not fall in love with. Pretty, sensible, suitable hips for child bearing, and at least half a brain."

You state at him in disbelief. "Anthony."

"What?"

"You better not say that out loud lest you insult every woman in the vicinity. Goodness, how do you expect to find a wife like that? You should marry someone you'll cherish for the rest of your lives. Someone who will make every day worth living for. Someone who compliments you in all the best ways and challenges you to keep you on your toes."

Violet and Benedict both look at you in awe.

Anthony doesn't seem affected by your little speech. "That rules you out as a candidate then?"

"Absolutely."

Anthony nods and walks away. You feel slightly bad, but you couldn't stand there and pretend his words didn't bother you.

"Worry not. You've only dented his ego, my brother will be quite fine," Benedict assures you.

"Good... I just don't see what the issue is with falling in love?"

Violet nods softly. "Anthony is stubborn, but if there is one thing I am certain of, all my children will marry for love."

You smile at her. "And me?"

"Of course you!" She smiles brightly.

You feel so much better after hearing that. Without the stress of having to marry because money was involved, you could now take your time to find someone to connect with. Someone to fill in love with.

You were ready.

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

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@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[ithebookhoarder]

En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all... 

Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.

A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance. 

Masterlist

“Now, try again-”

“-Sherlock-”

“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-” 

Oh, that was it. 

You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was. 

“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.” 

Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you. 

After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure). 

Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm. 

Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation. 

You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her. 

So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun? 

Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.

Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room. 

And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you. 

As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again. 

“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.” 

He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.

“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”

“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working. 

Two could play this game. 

“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.” 

You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck. 

Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both. 

[verstappensrealwife]

Just Friends - Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

fluff. approx. 2300 words

warnings : drinking alcohol, mentions of drunkness, kissing.

a/n: fully aware i just posted the poll an hour ago but i was too excited to write this idea, its 2am, and it was winning the poll anyways.

lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

You have known Lando practically since the day you took your first breath—well, maybe not quite that early, but close enough. He was barely two when you entered the world, your mothers having been friends since their school days. So, it was only natural that he made an appearance at the hospital with his mother to welcome you into the world.

His first reaction upon meeting you was a mixture of surprise and disappointment, his innocent query about your gender met with tears when your mother revealed you were, indeed, a baby girl. It's a story you never fail to bring up whenever he expresses admiration for you.

"Y/N, you're such an amazing person," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol, as you practically carried him through the pulsating lights and booming music of the club. His arm draped heavily over your shoulders, you were on a mission to save him from humiliating himself with an ill-advised karaoke rendition of a Queen song.

"You didn't think I was this great when I was born," you quipped, your own sobriety a stark contrast to his inebriated state. In fact, you hadn't planned on being in the club at all. It was Lando who had insisted on your presence, summoning you to "rescue him from this esteemed establishment!"

Today, Lando, you and a few others found yourselves dining together. The evening air was balmy, with the soft glow of summer casting a golden hue through the windows, illuminating your face in a particularly enchanting manner.

He won’t deny looking at you a little longer sometimes, and quickly coming to his senses by stopping immediately. Just a friend.

You found yourselves amidst the lively celebration of a friend's engagement, nestled by a large window that framed the enchanting evening sky. The restaurant exuded a cosy ambiance, with lush greenery draping the walls and vibrant artwork adorning every corner. Across the room, the exposed brick walls added a touch of rustic charm to the eclectic space.

The table before you was a veritable feast, adorned with an array of delectable dishes and overflowing drinks—empty glasses serving as a testament to the spirited revelry that had unfolded. Amidst the cheerful chatter of your companions, you found yourself engaged in a spirited discourse with your friend beside you, passionately expounding on the intricacies of drink measurements, though your slightly slurred speech betrayed your less-than-sober state.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the scene, you settled your portion of the bill and rose from your seat, bidding farewell to each friend with warm hugs and heartfelt kisses. Exiting the restaurant alongside Lando, you were met with the cool night air and the anticipation of your awaiting ride.

With the Uber en route and a mere seven minutes away, you and Lando stood side by side in comfortable silence, the faint glow of his phone illuminating his features as he scrolled through Instagram. Occasionally, he would eagerly show you a post, finding amusement in the most obscure content, prompting an amused quirk of your eyebrow or an incredulous shake of your head.

When he insisted on the hilarity of yet another post, you regarded him with mock incredulity, your eyes silently questioning his sense of humour. His playful insistence only served to deepen your amusement, eliciting a hearty laugh that bubbled from deep within your chest.

The video showed himself as “Lando Norizz”.

"I do have ‘rizz’, you know," he declared with mock indignation.

“As if,” You snorted, “Prove it tough guy.”

Drawing closer to you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. The proximity of his body, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the intensity of his gaze should have rendered you speechless—if only you were sober. Instead, you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound ringing out into the night air.

Apologies tumbled from your lips between fits of laughter, though any offence Lando might have felt had quickly dissolved into shared amusement. Chuckling together, you settled into the Uber, the echoes of your laughter filling the night as you made your way home.

As you stumbled through the door of your apartment, Lando in tow, the weight of laughter and shared moments still lingering in the air, you tossed your keys onto the side table with a careless flick and collapsed onto the inviting embrace of the couch. Without missing a beat, Lando joined you, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of the night. With an affectionate eye roll, you nudged him playfully as he settled beside you, the warmth of his body a familiar presence against your own.

He reached for the remote, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. He flicked on the TV, the ambient murmur of the characters serving as a gentle backdrop to the two of you being occupied by other things. Despite the lure of the TV screen, your attention remained steadfastly on the book you were reading, Lando’s on his twitter feed.

"Was my charm really that terrible?" he queried out of the blue.

You glanced up, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation before offering a nonchalant shrug. "It wasn't horrendous," you admitted.

"So... any pointers? What went wrong?" he pressed, a hint of curiosity lacing his words.

"Because I was a tad more drunk thirty minutes ago, and besides, we're friends," you replied matter-of-factly, returning your attention to the book you had been engrossed in.

As the weight of your words settled between you, Lando felt a pang of realisation pierce through him like a dagger. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth he had been oblivious to until that moment. The casual dismissal of his attempts at charm stung deeper than he cared to admit, a stark reminder of the invisible barrier that separated them. With a heavy heart, he watched you return to your book, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever before. In that fleeting moment, Lando's gaze lingered on you, his heart aching with the silent acknowledgment of what could never be—a realisation that left him feeling more alone than he had ever felt before.

He coughed awkwardly, the sound breaking the tense atmosphere like a fragile thread snapping under pressure, and rose from his seat with uncharacteristic haste. "I- um- I'm gonna go to bed," he mumbled, his words stumbling over each other in a clumsy attempt to fill the silence.

"Alright," you replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him retreat. "No funny business in my spare room!" you called after him, injecting a note of levity into the moment.

His laughter echoed in the hallway, a bittersweet melody that lingered long after he had disappeared from view, leaving behind a lingering ache in his chest as he wrestled with the realisation that his unspoken desires would forever remain unfulfilled.

The next morning, as you nursed your slight hangover with a steaming cup of coffee, you sought solace in scrolling through TikToks in the comfort of your kitchen. The first few videos passed by in a blur of mundane content, until your own face suddenly appeared on the screen.

You weren't a celebrity by any means, but being known as Lando's friend had its consequences, as evidenced by the video capturing the previous night's awkward encounter outside the restaurant. Your groan echoed in the quiet kitchen as you watched the clip unfold, realising with a sinking feeling that your innocent moment with Lando had been misconstrued by the watching world.

He was mere centimetres away from you in the video, his gaze unmistakably fixed on your lips with an intensity that made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was clear to anyone watching that his intentions had been misinterpreted, yet the damage had already been done. As the video looped, each replay serving as a painful reminder of the misunderstanding, you couldn't help but wonder how something so innocent had been twisted into something else entirely.

As you read through the comments, a curious mixture of amusement and surprise washed over you as you noticed a recurring theme emerging: shipping you and your friend, Lando. At first, you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, scoffing at the playful speculation and fanciful theories concocted by strangers on the internet. But as you delved deeper into the comments, something shifted within you.

With each passing remark, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of recognition that began to take hold. You found yourself reflecting on the countless moments you and Lando had shared together— the inside jokes, the late-night conversations, the unwavering support through thick and thin. And as you considered the undeniable bond that existed between you, you couldn't help but acknowledge the striking parallels between your friendship and that of a romantic relationship

Suddenly, the playful banter and lighthearted teasing that had once been the hallmark of your friendship took on a new significance, leaving you grappling with the realisation that perhaps there was more to your connection with Lando than you had initially realised. With a newfound sense of introspection, you closed your phone, the words of the commenters lingering in your mind as you pondered the possibility of something more between you and your friend.

As the minutes ticked by and your thoughts swirled with newfound clarity, a profound realisation settled within you like a weight in your chest: you wanted him. Wanted him in a way that transcended the boundaries of friendship, in every conceivable sense. You wanted his laughter to be the melody that filled your days, his warmth to be the comfort that enveloped you in moments of doubt, his presence to be the anchor that grounded you amidst life's storms.

Yet, amidst the fervent desire that pulsed through your veins, a gnawing uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your newfound revelation. Did he feel the same? Did he see you as anything more than just a friend? The questions lingered, casting a shadow of doubt over your burgeoning feelings, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the prospect of laying your heart bare.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the kitchen counter, the weight of your newfound realisation settling upon you like a mantle. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with the potential for heartache and rejection, yet amidst the swirling tumult of emotions, one thing remained clear: you couldn't ignore the undeniable truth of your own heart any longer.

As he strolled into the kitchen, the sight of him shirtless and clad in joggers that seemed all too familiar sent a jolt of warmth coursing through you. Yet, as you met his gaze, the weight of your realisation pressed heavily upon you, urging you to confront the truth that had been swirling in your mind. "Did you know people shipped us?" you blurted out, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

He shrugged nonchalantly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he masked it with a casual indifference. But you knew better. You could see the subtle tension in the set of his jaw, the guardedness in his expression. He had known—had felt the weight of those speculative gazes just as keenly as you had. "I guess so," he replied with a noncommittal shrug, his tone carefully neutral. "Why?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, and you found yourself grappling with the sudden urge to lay bare your heart before him, to confess the depth of your feelings and the tumultuous journey of self-discovery that had led you to this moment. But as you met his gaze, the uncertainty that clouded your mind held you back, leaving the words trapped on the tip of your tongue, unspoken yet pulsing with a fervency that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, he took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking until you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

In that charged moment, with the weight of unspoken words pressing down upon you, you felt something shift within you—a primal urge to seize the moment, to bridge the gap between friendship and something more. And so, fueled by the fire of your newfound realisation and the palpable tension that hung between you, you closed the whole distance between you in a single, daring move.

With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, the warmth of his skin electrifying against your touch. And then, with a surge of courage that bordered on reckless abandon, you pressed your lips to his, the kiss a declaration of desire and longing that transcended words.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sweetness of the moment, the taste of him searing itself into your memory with every brush of his lips against yours. And in that fleeting instant, as the world fell away around you, you knew with a certainty that resonated deep within your soul: this was where you were meant to be.

As you pulled back, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you met his gaze with a newfound sense of clarity and certainty. And in the quiet understanding that passed between you, there was no need for words—just the simple, unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that had always been there, waiting to be embraced.

With a soft laugh and a tender squeeze of his hand, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that was as simple as it was profound. And as you leaned in to rest your head against his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for the journey that lay ahead—a journey that promised to be filled with laughter, love, and countless moments of simple, unadulterated joy.

El fin.

this is the best thing i have ever written in my many years of life. thank you me.

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ SIMON!

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Loud - The Home Team

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Synopsis: Few of the many times Simon had to come to your rescue.

Word count: 861

Masterlist

“SIMON!!” You scream out in fear. Simon comes running out of his office with a combat knife held up. His heart sank when he heard you scream. All that was running through his mind was that either you got hurt, or that there was an intruder. He slides as he runs towards the living room. He scans the room for any visible threat. When he sees nothing that could hurt you he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and sighs.“Lovie? What’s wrong?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he stares at your figure standing on the couch. You point shakily at the floor. He squints his eyes to see what you’re pointing at it. It’s a small cockroach. “Kill it, please.” You plead with him. He can feel amusement creep up and shakes his head. He grabs a shoe and smashes it. He grabs a tissue. “Bloody hell, I thought you got hurt.” He says as he cleans up the cockroach with the tissue and throws it into the trash. You look at him with a serious expression. “I could’ve been.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be ridiculous it’s only a cockroach, a small one at that.” You scramble off the couch and walk up to him. “It’s the spawn of the devil.” You defend yourself. He lets out a laugh and pulls you closer. “Mhmm, sure lovie. I’ll kill all of the cockroaches for you. Your pretty little face doesn’t have to worry about them anymore.” He says and rolls his eyes. You grin happily up at him and kiss his cheek. Your cockroach problem is solved.

***

Simon is lounging on the couch, reading a book. He’s enjoying his peace and quiet. You’re cleaning up the bedroom. Changing the sheets, and dusting off the closets, nightstands, and dressers. He has offered to help you but you have politely declined, saying he should enjoy his time relaxing. He went along with it, thinking you’d be fine cleaning up on your own after convincing him. A terrified scream interrupts his peace and quiet. “SIMON!” He slams his book shut, gripping it tightly, and runs up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He holds up the book, ready to use it as a weapon for whatever is threatening you. He barges into the bedroom and looks around. Yet again, there’s nothing there that could harm you. He notices that you’re standing in one corner of the room, staring at the other side with a terrified stare. He sighs, “is it another cockroach?” He asks exasperated. You shake your head frantically. You point at a small black speck on the wall shakily. “It’s a spider!” You squeak out. He walks closer to the speck and it’s indeed a spider. He groans and slams the book on the small spider. He wipes off its remains on the wall and book with a tissue and throws it in the bin. He looks at you and smiles. “It’s gone now, it won’t hurt you.” You shuffle closer to him. He wraps his arms around you. “You need me to stay here while you clean?” He asks with amusement lacing his voice. You nod, “that would be nice.” You say softly. He chuckles, his chest vibrating with laughter. He watches you as you clean. He can’t help but stare at you with fondness while you clean.

***

You’re both peacefully watching a movie on the television. You’re cuddled up to Simon while he runs his hand over your arm repeatedly in a soothing manner. He’s so invested in the movie that he fails to notice the huge moth flying by your faces. But you have. Once you see its humongous self whizzing by, you tense up. As long as it doesn’t get too close you’ll be fine. Simon notices that you are tensed up and looks at you. “What’s wrong, lovie?” He mumbles. You’re about to tell him a moth is flying around but you get interrupted by your own scream and cling onto Simon like a koala bear. He flinches at your scream and looks at you with wide eyes. He holds you close to him and looks around with confusion. He spots the moth resting on the lampshade next to him and sighs. “Seriously, again?” He asks. You nod, “just kill it!” He looks at you like you’re crazy. He smirks. “It’s huge, we should keep it as a pet.” He comments. You glare at him and slap his arm lightly. “Kill it.” You demand. He chuckles and grabs a tissue from the tissue box on the coffee table. “Fine, only because I love you.” He quips. He brings the tissue closer and pinches the moth. Effectively crushing it. He stands up and throws it out and returns to you. He wraps his arm around you again and you continue watching the movie again in peace. This isn’t the first time he had to kill an insect for you, he also knows it won’t be the last. But he doesn’t care. As long are you’re happy he’s willing to kill every insect that even looks in your direction.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Idia: Look at all these dynamic brushstrokes that can only truly be appreciated because they're from a real painting… Fheehee! This is the real thrill of seeing one live!

Idia: ―Ah! Th-Th-Th-This is…! A PAINTING OF THE LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD ON HIS CHARIOT!!!

Idia: It hits so hard～ In order to rescue a captured comrade, the king himself rushes to the front lines… Oooowee～ Doesn't that just get your heart pumpin'?

???: Indeed… However, is it appropriate for a dutiful commander to leave his base and head to the front lines?

Idia: Eeek!!! Silver-shi!? D-Don't just cut in when I'm talking to myself like that. This is why I can't deal with extroverts…

Silver: My apologies for startling you. I found your comment to be interesting, so I could not help but chime in.

Idia: E-Even if you think it's interesting, don't you think your impression of him was pretty shallow just from this one anecdote...?

Silver: Meaning?

Idia: I-If he was just a minister or something, he coulda just split after setting up the strategy, leaving it to his subordinates to execute everything.

Idia: But he still went to such a dangerous place to stir up morale, because that mission would be the linchpin of the whole battle. So, basically…

Idia: That means his responsibility meter is through the roof!! Wheeew, he's a totally different breed than any naïve and useless politician who just hoists their title around.

Silver: So you're saying that he himself went out there because it was a crucial situation. I would say that he does have an overwhelming sense of responsibility, indeed.

Silver: Hearing your opinion on the matter has allowed me to delve deeper into understanding this painting and its story. You are quite wise.

Idia: S-Sure, yeah～! You should follow my example and study up on things a little better, Silver-shi!

Silver: I will do just that. …However, it feels as though what you said about how other leaders may act had some weight behind it.

Silver: I had heard that you took up the title of Housewarden after being recommended by the previous Housewarden...

Silver: Was that because you had had previous experience as a leader, and were thus therefore chosen for the position?

Idia: Huh!? N-No, nuh-uh, wut are you even talking about? No way, no way… 'Sides, I'm more of a solo player even in my online games, y'know?

Idia: I mean, sometimes I've taken the lead of a party when I absolutely had to for a raid, or something…

Silver: As I expected, you do have experience in leadership.

Idia: It's not that big a deal… I mean, I got a reliable battle buddy who tanks and usually takes the lead.

Idia: Generally, I go for healing or DPS roles. Or more like, I just stack as many buffs as I can to increase firepower.

Idia: But it's not like our schedules always line up, so whenever he's not around, I take the lead… Because I have to!

Idia: It's usually the high-level players with great skills that take on the leader role. And in that case, I've basically maxed out all my stats in every position, so…

Idia: And I can grasp what the scenarios call for, see? And I can also play the tank roles to take charge on the front lines, right???

Idia: "Thanks to you, I was able to clear this high-level quest! I'm so thankful to have joined this party!"

Idia: …THEY SAY, ELECTING ME MVP OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

Idia: And I was just taking on the leader role because I had to. I'm just way too good…

Silver: So, those who fought alongside you showered you with gratitude. That just proves even further your leadership capabilities.

Idia: I-I wouldn't go that far― …Or maybe, just a little bit further? H-Hee Fheeheeheehee!

Idia: But also, I don't want to deal with failing a quest because some loser was placed in charge, so.

Idia: So I guess next time I have to put together a party, if my friend isn't available, I'll just have to lead them all again!

Idia: Wheeew, it's hard being so awesome～!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Silver: This is a painting of a lion, warthog, and a meerkat, I see. The three of them are singing a song and seem to get along well.

Idia: Ain't they waaay too upbeat, to be able to sing while walking like that? Like, this painting shows the lion crown prince that was forced to leave his own country…

Idia: It's showing him singing along with some friends he ended up making, while he tries to ignore that pain, right?

Idia: Lucky him, that they chose to glorify his hiatus from his royal duties like this. Tch!

Silver: I've heard that singing can raise one's spirits. Perhaps they all wanted to brighten their own moods.

Idia: Speaking of singing to take your mind off stuff, there was this one time when I was a kid when my little brother was too scared to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night…

Idia: So we would go there while singing the theme song of our favorite anime together.

Idia: Eh, anyway, whatever their reason for singing, having that moon in the background composition like that's super moving. Kinda like what you'd see in an MV.

Silver: Em-vee…?

Idia: Eh… Y-You don't know what a music video is? It's a video recording that goes along with music and lyrics…

Silver: Ah, so you call those MVs. I understand.

Idia: I-If you feel like checking out some MVs sometime, I'd recommend the idol group "Precipice Moirai."

Idia: Premo's MVs are so awesome that you could watch them 100 times and never tire of them…!

Silver: 100 times… That's quite a lot. Is that generally something you'd watch so often?

Idia: A true fan would absolutely! More like, it's way too insolent to think that you could truly appreciate their MV with only one watch!

Idia: The first watch is all about enjoying the song and video in its entirety. The next three times the focus is shifted to checking out each of the three members' dance moves and expressions one by one.

Idia: Next, there's the actual composition of the MV, and digging deep into the actual message of the video… At a minimum, it should be watched ten times.

Idia: On top of all that, Premo's super casual MVs can put even a film director to shame!

Idia: There's no way to fully comprehend their art with only a couple viewings. That's why it needs to be viewed hundreds of times.

Silver: I had no idea their work was that deep… It may prove useful in training me better in emotional expressions, and perhaps could even be incorporated into the academy's music courses.

Idia: N-No, I mean, you don't gotta go that far… But it's great that you know just how awesome they are.

Idia: Even between us Premo fans, there's always those who still don't understand their art at all…

Idia: Every time a new MV comes out, there's always people saying stuff like, "She got the most screen time," or "She's definitely the manager's favorite," and the like…

Idia: But does that have anything to do with the quality of their work? It doesn't, right? They don't care about understanding the heart or essence of the songs.

Silver: I see… I feel as though I have learned a lot from you, Idia-senpai.

Silver: When we return to campus, I will look into, hm… Premo? Yes, Premo's music videos.

Idia: Eh, no way!? S-S-Seriously!? They have all their latest MVs on their official Magicam account!

Idia: P-PLEASE WATCH THEM! YOU WON'T REGRET IT!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Idia: Ooh, here's the Sea Witch floating in the darkness… She's got a nice, bewitching smile going, too.

Silver: This is a painting depicting the scene of when the Sea Witch drew up a contract.

Silver: If I recall, it was said that the contract was so unbreakable that even a powerful spear couldn't rip through it.

Idia: I mean, you'd think that just having a contract that doesn't tear apart or bleed ink in water is strong enough...

Silver: Perhaps the contents of the contract was dire enough she did not wish it broken.

Idia: Who cares about the contents, the material of the contract is way more interesting. How high of a defense stat did it even have to not get ripped up by a spear?

Idia: But I totally get it, everyone wants to make invincible things every so often.

Silver: I cannot say I understand, but… What sort of thing would you make, Idia-senpai?

Idia: Like a "game console power cord that can never be taken away," or something like that… A-Actually, I tried to make something like that when I was a kid.

Idia: Whenever I'd play video games all day and into night, my mother would end up hiding all my cords.

Idia: If all she did was hide them, I could just make myself a new one, but she'd hide the cord materials as well. Totally overboard!

Idia: So I had a thought. I had to do something so she couldn't hide it!

Silver: I can only imagine your mother was concerned for your health… Did you never consider quitting your games?

Idia: Why would I? Ahh, but I really did burn the midnight oil like a little worker bee back then.

Idia: Like, I'd put a motion sensor on it, so that the cord could automatically run away from whoever was holding it...

Idia: Or I'd make the cord transparent so it couldn’t be found, or attach a homing function to it so it'd come back on its own…

Idia: And finally, after many failed attempts… I finally did it…!

Idia: I MADE A TRANSPARENT POWER CORD THAT ONLY RECOGNIZES THE AUTHORIZED USER!!

Silver: I do not really comprehend what that is, but… It is amazing that you invented something with your own two hands.

Idia: Nope, not at all.

Idia: My family also has a real stubborn genius, and every time I came up with some tech, it'd quickly get shot down by some kind of countermeasure...

Idia: And it took me a few months of that game of cat and mouse before I realized I should just convert my game console to wireless.

Idia: Hmph… But the peace and quiet that came from switching to wireless didn't last long at all...

Idia: Soon after, the Final Boss appeared: a device capable of disabling all wireless tech within a 10-meter radius!

Idia: Well, all the experience I got developing the motion sensing and automatic functions helped when I was putting Ortho together…

Idia: So I guess all that trial and error wasn't for nothing.

Silver: Even if you can picture your ideal outcome, it is rather difficult to actually put into action.

Silver: However, you have made real many of your thoughts. I can respect that.

Idia: Wai― What're you trying to say all a sudden? Getting complimented to my face randomly like that is a little scary… W-Wait, is this all a plot to beguile me!?

Silver: A plot? ...Hm, I see it has gotten late. I have kept you for some time. My apologies.

Silver: I am grateful to have heard such wonderful stories from you. Well then, I shall be on my way.

Idia: Whew… I'm exhausted having to actually talk to people for the first time in a while… Ah, this is…

Idia: It's the hero from that one myth. Look at his sparkling expression… He looks like he totally believes the future ahead of his is bright.

Idia: Life doesn't always go as swimmingly as you hope, though… Hope he doesn't get too excited that he gets carried away by the river of the underworld!

Requested by Anonymous.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

I recognise Walt Disney’s talent but it has always seemed to me hopelessly corrupted. Though in most of the pictures proceeding from [Disney] studios there are admirable or charming passages, the effect of all of them to me is disgusting. Some have given me nausea.

J.R.R. Tolkien

If Disney turned his stomach we can assume Tolkien would be turning in his grave at what Amazon Studios have done with 'Rings of Power'.

Tolkien's main objection to Disney - and something shared with C.S. Lewis - was how childish Disney treated fairy tales. For Tolkien fairy tales were serious business.

At the crux of his argument, which explores the nature of fantasy and the cultural role of fairy tales, is the same profound conviction that there is no such thing as writing “for children.” Tolkien insists that fairy tales aren’t inherently “for” children but that we, as adults, simply decided that they were, based on a series of misconceptions about both the nature of this literature and the nature of children. Tolkien deeply believe in language, myth, and Fairy, in that he recognised, they are deeply human things. Indeed, it is a natural right of humanity to produce fantasy.

And ye fail completely when we believe that Fairy is for children, Tolkien argued, noting that traditionally Fairy deals with the most difficult human problems, and children - understood as yet-to-be-formed humans - fall into the category of human, but they have no special hold or understanding of Fairy. Tolkien argued that the path to Fairy is neither the path to heaven nor to hell. It might be somewhat purgatorial, however, and certainly otherworldly. Fairy itself, far from being supernatural, is the most natural of worlds. Indeed, it is extraordinarily natural, as natural things live only as themselves. Rather Platonically, the tree is truly the tree (Treebeard), wine is truly wine, and bread (Lembas) is truly bread in Fairy. That is, there is little if any separation of the accidents of a thing from the essence of a thing. Those in fairy, though, through pride of beauty, often present themselves in disguise and as things they are not, thus befuddling the wanderer.

Words, definitions, and analyses, Tolkien warned, can offer only so much understanding of Fairy. Instead, one must not only travel to and through Fairy, but he must also recognise that fairy - like all mythology - is an expression of our deepest longings and fears.

A genuine fantasy, according to Tolkien, creates an immersive experience for the reader. In a successful fantasy, the author is a ‘sub-creator’: as Tolkien puts it, “He makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is ‘true’: it accords with the laws of that world. You therefore believe it, while you are, as it were, inside.”

He goes on to argue that this sort of fantasy has three essential functions: recovery, escape, and consolation. Using the metaphor of a dirty, smudged window - whose film of grime obscures what we see through it - he says that we need “to clean our windows; so that the things seen clearly may be freed from the drab blur of triteness or familiarity - from possessiveness.” Fantasy helps us with this recovery of clear vision. He distinguishes the literary escape offered by good fantasy from the negative quality of escapism. And he explains the idea of consolation by coining the word eucatastrophe. It is formed of ‘eu,’ meaning good, attached to ‘catastrophe, and it means “the good catastrophe”: the unexpected happy ending, which gives us a profound taste of joy. We see it in The Lord of the Rings with the rescue of Frodo and Sam, after the destruction of the Ring, when they are sure that all is lost; we see it even more fully in the final chapters and indeed the final pages of the tale.

[seetangus]

Ember island - Azula x reader os

[masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, warnings: jelously, heavy arguing/fighting

1.844 words, this is not entirely proofread, so please point out mistakes!

This was requested, but since something went wrong with answering to the request directly I'm going to pop in a screenshot:

I hope I got the request right, enjoy :)

Ty Lee looked at Azula. She sat on her chair, wanting to look more confident than ever, and she was succeeding at it. She always wanted to look even more confident when y/n was present. Why? Well, why would she? Everything was perfectly normal, wasn't it? And she surely did not have feelings for anyone at all, and even more surely she wasn't insecure about them not being mutual. No, everything was fine.

Then Ty Lee looked at you. You sat there, also wanting to look confident, failing quite miserably, but nobody present dared commenting on it, as everyone knew the reason for your misery; out of all the persons it could have been, your princess had for quite some time been the center of your tender love and admiration, but since she seemed pretty well off only admiring herself and not you, and since you did not feel worthy of being with royalty, you had yet to dare making your feelings official.

Ty Lee couldn't help but acknowledge how well the two of you fit together. She had rarely seen a duo emit such silence together, especially on a journey to beautiful Ember island where victory would be celebrated. Ty Lee decided to say something to rescue you from this situation. If it continued to be so silent, she feared you might lose your ability to speak.

But somehow talking in this atmosphere was hard even for Ty Lee, so her talking wasn’t much more than a few comments about how sunny it was. Still, you really appreciated her effort and responded by saying that it was indeed a very sunny day. Even Azula confirmed that the sun did shine more brightly than usual.

It was a delightful conversation.

Anyhow, once you arrived at Ember Island things got much easier, since you and Azula weren’t so close to one another now. You still were close, after all you somehow wanted to be, but it wasn’t the “it’s-awkward-if-we-don’t-talk” kind of close.

You had to say, this island really was pretty. You couldn’t wait for fun things to happen! Like, how funny would it be if Azula confessed to you, wouldn’t that be, like, really funny? You quickly got rid of that thought, as that would never happen, sadly. You shouldn’t let yourself go with these dangerous thoughts.

Luckily there were many other things to think about, such as the party everyone would go to this evening. You had been told that it would be in a beautiful villa next to the beach and lots of people your age would be there. It surely would be fun!

But since there was lots of time left until the party would start, the three girls and you decided to visit the beach. It really was a wonderful experience, especially after having fought against the Avatar for many months.

After some time you noticed that Ty Lee was being more and more blocked from your sight by an ever growing pile of dudes who held a biceps-competition of sorts to impress her. If they only knew she could defeat them in a heartbeat. You chuckled about the thought.

Throughout the day and much to your surprise quite a few girls wandered to your beach mat and started some kind of smalltalk, but since your only interest in a romantic way, Azula, laid only a few meters away from you on her beach mat and, unbeknownst to you, was giving you jealous looks, the girls all left when they realised you wouldn’t react to their hints.

< • ◇ • >

Then the party came.

Azula, Mai, Ty Lee and you were amongst the first ones to arrive. That probably had something to do with your training during the war, but you didn't really think about it.

Much more important was Azula. She wore a beautiful red dress with golden embroidery today, and the dim lights of the room made it seem as if it was glowing. And she was paying attention to you, making you wait eagerly for an opportunity to talk to her.

As more and more guests arrived and the general mood got more party-like, you dared starting a conversation with her. You very, very, very carefully tried to get the topic to be more intimate, and you noticed her giving some reluctant hints that she would like that.

But somehow, the two of you didn’t manage to warm up enough to get the conversation rolling, always ending up in small moments of silence. In one of these moments, a few girls who stood beside you in the now completely filled room, started talking to you.

You were hesitant in responding to them because you didn’t want to ruin the ‘conversation’ with Azula, but since neither of you said anything anymore or tried to get away from the girls your talk was now over. After a few moments, Azula walked away and the girls surrounded you completely.

You very much did not like what was happening. There probably were many people who would have rejoiced in your position; surrounded by pretty ladies, every single one of them seemingly wanting you, but you reacted quite reserved, to say the least.

Firstly, you never had something like this happen to you before. Well, except for the thing that had happened on the beach, but the crowd surrounding you there and the people who stood around you here probably consisted largely of the same members. Secondly, this went strictly against the intentions of your heart. Even if it was hopeless, you were devoted to Azula, and you were not going to become an unfaithful lover before any relationship even started.

So, turning down an ever increasing amount of gestures and advances from the people around you, you looked for Azula.

You made your way through the masses of people who attended the party, looking everywhere. Finally, you saw her red dress! She stood on the balcony, with a boy your age by her side.

You had been introduced to him, his name was Chan. They stood there, way closer than you had ever stood to her. The fabric of her dress shined under his fingers as he shamelessly touched her. And she was enjoying it! Feelings of pride and dignified contempt you had long not felt tried to cover up the deep cuts that opened up in your heart. Blind jealousy and despair flushed your consciousness to hide the pain you felt as Chan leaned in and … kissed her.

You were furious. Azula was wasting her first kiss on someone like this! Azula was a work of art, she was perfect, and now she let herself be tainted by the frivolous touch of this man? The purpose of your life, which Azula was, now was being held by the hands of that person and used to their liking. Your eyes burnt from what they saw; you couldn’t endure this horrible picture any longer.

You turned away, throwing your now pointless self into the pit of temptations that the party represented, hoping for them to make you forget what you saw; hoping to wash away the gruesome sight from your memory by letting yourself go.

< • ◇ • >

What felt like hours had passed, the party was now at its height. You had tried to let yourself go like Azula had. To show her that you were well off alone. You had flirted with anyone that came to your sight, but it had not worked. Even if they responded well to you, it did not feel right. You had underestimated your feelings for Azula… you did not only have a crush on her, you loved her! Your whole heart was aching for her, even after (maybe even more than before) you had seen her with Chan!

And it made you sick. You wanted to get fresh air, get away from all the people around you. You went to the balcony - Azula and Chan wouldn’t be there anymore. They had probably long ago gone to a more comfortable place. You scoffed.

You had finally reached the balcony. You inhaled the fresh air when stepping outside, but your breath hitched when you saw who stood before you.

She was here. Azula. Alone.

Suddenly, you did not hear the noise from the party anymore. Only the sound of the waves from the beach and your breath. Sometimes you thought you heard her breath too. The silence was deafening.

The looks you gave eachother were dreadful too. Her eyes resembled gemstones not only in how beautiful they were, but also in how clear and cold they were. She did not look at you, she looked inside of you.

“Alone again? Did that boyfriend of yours leave you for another girl?” You should not talk like that, but your blind jealousy made you say these words with a tremble in your voice.

“Like you are the one to talk,”, Azula immediately snapped back, taking a step towards you, “surrounded by a crowd of little lovers the whole day!”

You both were angry. The words you threw at eachother were hurtful, but something like this was predetermined; months of tension dissolved in this fight.

“Why should you care who tries getting my attention?”, you responded, mimicking her and also taking a step in her direction. “It's not like you wanted it instead! You don’t even appreciate me enough to talk to me properly!”, you continued, thinking about your conversation at the start of the party.

“Oh yeah?” Azula was furious to a dangerous extent. Normally she would have shown it by setting things ablaze, but this time her anger showed by her talking very emotionally: “I am the one who doesn’t talk properly? I am the one who doesn’t invest enough into our connection? Pah! Of course I don’t appreciate you; I love you, and if you even had the guts of a turtle-duck you would have kissed me before Chan got the chance, Idiot!”

In an instant, you forgot every thought of fighting. “You do?”, you asked very hesitantly, not wanting to believe your ears. Azula simply took another step forward and nodded. You felt her breath on your skin and her gaze resting upon your face.

Every bit of anger that had been in the atmosphere before had now been transformed to tender love; “I love you too, Azula” was everything you had to say to complete the moment.

Azula and you finally embraced eachother. After months of uncertainty you finally held her in your own arms. You only pulled out of the embrace for a very brief moment to look at her face - her crystal eyes were more beautiful than any star the firmament had to offer and her lips made yours feel incomplete without being connected with them.

Azula felt the same way and, having regained her usual demanding attitude, she looked up from your lips directly into your eyes. “Y/n, kiss me.”

Not only the lips of her and you, but also your souls united in this moment of love.

[romanoffsbish]

Liho to the Rescue

Natasha Romanoff x “Dr. DooLittle” Fem!R

Warnings: R was a Hydra captive.

A cute lil blurb I wrote in a moment of TikTok filter inspiration during my break.

The Avengers were honestly perplexed by you, they’d yet to get much of anything out of you on as to why you were in a Hydra cell, but the longer they observed you in one of their own they were slowly realizing you weren’t a threat.

Everyday without fail you’d wake up smiling, you’d write thoughtfully in the journal Wanda gave to you after you politely asked for it during what was meant to be an interrogation, then you’d partake in a detailed yoga routine before indulging in the served up breakfast.

One of them would bring you the food, usually Wanda as she wanted to see if you enjoyed it. But on the occasion you’d be met with the ever so stoic Black Widow, you’d heard about her in the time you spent held captive by Hydra, but upon meeting her you found yourself relaxed.

——

Nothing about her really scared you, every time she tried to intimidate you in the interrogation process all you’d ever do is softly smile at her. It left her infuriated, but in the same turn rather curious, usually the soft ones like you were the easiest to break, so she believed you might’ve had something dark to hide. Just to change her tune every time she was in charge of observing you through the monitors, you were just so docile, and incredibly kind when anyone would stop by your cell for any reason.

There was just something innately soft about Natasha that left you feeling safe in her presence, like no matter how hard she tried to scare you, you knew she wasn’t going to harm you. Behind all of the steel walls she put up you could tell she loved curling up beside the fireplace with a book the same way you once did before your life was stolen from you.

Today was a bit different than normal though, you woke with a start at 6am when alarms began to sound all throughout the compound. Your normal smile was wiped away as fear held you in its grasp, the idea that Hydra had shown up to take you back left you petrified. Now, if you knew the truth you’d probably laugh, but in the moment all you can do is sob into your knees and hope your fears were unfounded.

Natasha had been left in charge of you today, Wanda grimaced at the thought of leaving her in the kitchen, but the mission today required her powers, and someone had to stay with you. Most of the team voted for the widow because they could tell she had a soft spot for you, the same way you showed a liking to her, and that’s how she found herself in the kitchen burning the eggs and toast she wanted to serve you.

The third party in the mix is where things get interesting though, Natasha had been in such distress over having to be alone with your life in her hands that she left her bedroom door ajar. A mischievous pair of green eyes sparked at the opportunity, and within seconds of her departure her dark as night feline made a break for it, and stealthily hid in the shadows.

“This place is freezing.”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up at the voice intruding in your mind, it was oddly deep, and you were about ready to jump into a fighting stance until you locked eyes with a cat.

“Ooh a girl, this must be who Natasha talks about every single night, she is indeed pretty.”

“Thank you.,” you replied to the cat, and you giggled when his back arched protectively., “I’m more than my looks kitty.,” you winked, then lowered yourself besides the glass near the cat., “I am also blessed with the ability to hear your unfiltered thoughts, and to reply.”

“That’s odd.,” he mused, and you only nodded., “Well, I’m Liho Romanoff, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.,” you smiled., “Y/N”

“Did you set off those alarms?,” Liho tilted his head in offense., “Absolutely not, she doesn’t even know I’m out.,” you bit back a laugh, of course the spy has a equally as stealthy cat as a pet., “That’s the fire alarm, she was left to cook for you, promise me you won’t touch it please.”

“Noted.,” you snorted, then in a moment of dangerous curiosity you pressed the door of your cell and it opened, but all you did was usher the cat in before resealing the big door.

“So, Natasha talks about me, hm?,” you wore a hopeful smile, and Liho glared, and trotted over to you. He meowed so loudly you could feel his frustration reverberating against the glass., “Talks? God, she never shuts up about the mystery that is you.,” he settles onto your chest and stares down at you for pure clarity.

“One second it’s ‘you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen’, then next it’s ‘What’s she hiding?,’ oh and her favorite is, ‘She’s so beautiful, think I can run away with her?’,” the feline plopped down dramatically., “It’s truly exhausting.”

“Oh, I bet.,” you chuckled, then before he could get annoyed like you perceived he would you began to pet him, eliciting the purring of appreciation to commence., “Tell me more.”

—

Natasha resorted to ordering from a local cafe after she saw the charred remains of your food. No way would she attempt to cook again, not when you would’ve been expecting breakfast any minute now. She knew how much you enjoyed them, so she got you an apple danish, and a hazelnut coffee with almond milk to placate your sensitive tummy. For herself she got a cherry danish, and a simple black coffee, then she got hash brown rounds for the both of you to share, then she happily made her way down to the holding cells with the food.

The bag nearly hit the floor though when she heard you cackling unabashedly, she settled the items down in the hallway, then she lifted her gun up and charged the rest of the way into the room to find you conversing with her cat.

“No way!,” you cackled even harder, completely unaware of the gorgeous green eyes staring at you in bewilderment., “You’re joking right?”

“Who?”

“Oh no.,” you grumbled to the feline who tried to calm you down by nuzzling into your chest., “Just tell her the truth, she’ll believe you.”

“Who are you talking to Y/L/N?,” she lowered her gun, but she still felt rather uneasy as she entered your cell to see her cat in your arms.

“Liho.”

Natasha’s face scrunched in confusion, there was no reason you’d know his name if not for being a super powered spy. More to her point she’s not sure why you’ve got her cat to begin with, was this some sort of twisted ruse?

“What’s your game here, huh?,” noticing her hostile demeanor you settled Liho down onto your bed, instantly to regret it as she slammed your body into the glass of your cell right after., “How did he get in here? How do you know his name? What the hell is your devious secret?!”

“Your inability to cook led to the safety features of the cell kicking in, so I opened it to let him in.,” you struggled to get out with a grimace as she held you so tightly it was hard to speak., “He told me his name; that’s my damn secret.”

“What?,” she let you go, the truth was evident in your eyes, but she was beyond shocked. Why the hell would Hydra want powers like that, and more importantly, why wouldn’t you clear your name and tell the simple, harmless truth.

“Why were you with Hydra then?,” she began to pace the tiny cell, and you sat down with her cat, and while scratching behind his ears you decided it was about time to just be honest.

“They kidnapped me when I was eighteen, I was headed to another state for university, but instead I ended up in another country as their captive.,” you pulled Liho in for comfort., “I was born this way, my small town knew me as the animal whisperer, and Hydra caught wind of it and thought they could make it devious.”

“But you wouldn’t give in?,” she reasoned, and you nodded., “There wasn’t much I could do anyways, I talk to animals, not control them.”

“Why didn’t you just come clean?,” she was kneeling before you now, hopeful to catch your gaze, and her heart stuttered when she found she’d made you cry., “It was safer to pretend I was a threat. I can’t defend myself against them if they come back for me Natasha, and they will because they wanted to control the apex predators of today, and in turn me.”

Natasha giggled inappropriately., “Sweetheart, nobody saw you as a threat.,” her hand settled over yours., “But I understand you now, and I promise that you’re safe with us, no one will ever touch you harmfully again, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’ll protect you.,” her eyes sparkled with truth, and her uncharacteristically soft smile directed at you made you swoon internally, but you still felt an urge to tease her., “By kidnapping me?,” her eyes narrowed as her gaze dropped to the cat in your lap., “You traitorous little shit!”

“You now owe me a can of tuna.,” Liho glared up at you, then before Natasha could enact her revenge he was darting across the cell, and she didn’t even attempt to chase him out of there.

“What else did he say?!”

You giggled, then much to her disappointment you mimicked a zipper on your lips, and she was aghast that your loyalty was to her feline.

“Come on.,” her hand was extended out for yours, your brows quirked, and she giggled., “You’re truly so adorable Y/N, now let’s go.”

“Where?,” you accepted her hand regardless of an answer and she spun you into her body., “Our room.,” you smiled widely., “I’m pretty sure this constitutes kidnapping Natasha.”

She shrugged with a smirk., “Fine by me.”

———

Meet The Fockers Bishop-Belova’s (Part 2)

1,698 Words

Lil bonus blurb during my hiatus

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

[demoniccomplex]

can i request 12 and 27 with sigma for the valentines event? i am loving your work 😭😭

12 (“please..just let me hold you.”) + 27 (“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you’ll understand eventually why I had to do this.. Stop it with those eyes and tears please..”)

sorry for delaying this one for so long, life has indeed been catching up with me and i reap the consequences. anyways WC 654 // valentines event closing on the 17th! TWS: kidnapping, implied drug usage, forced proximity

Originally plans to go to the sky casino were off the table for you, ignoring each offer that came by. Simply put, you weren't interested in going at all, however you got pulled along with some heavy convincing. You really should’ve stood your ground more, yet you plead ignorance for fun. There were moments where you could proudly say you were having fun, little drinks between watching then playing. It was nice even despite the times you felt as though you had look over your shoulder just in case. Bumping into the manager of the casino a few times did set you off in anxiety but as tiny bits of alcohol kicked in, it soothed you only a little to where you stopped paying attention to him. Faces blurred together at points and that was the downfall of your freedom, next blink you were in a different room with the lights off.

Your panic started off right away, overruling your headache due to the lack of hydration. The room was comforting in the way everything was laid out, everything neatly placed that made the room not too crowded. You couldn't even comprehend if you were breathing, escaping then figuring out what was going on and what happened. Moving your legs off the bed felt like it was chained down, sore and in pain. What on earth happened?, you finally caught sight of your ability to breathe and started to get up more.

“Oh. Did I hurt you too badly? If so, I really didn't mean to.”

You look up rushed, pain wracking at your head again causing you to grimace. A figure was close to you, it was the manager of the casino, the one you kept bumping into. 

“Don't worry, there's water, you should really drink some, you drank a lot earlier.”

You began to question him on what was going on and why you were in a dark room suddenly with only him inside. His posture straightened up while his nails dug into his palms at the questions you were asking of him. He shook his head, trying to convince you of a normality that did not exist in this situation. Every question made his cheeks just a little brighter along with his eye contact starting to fail. You tried to get up to leave before Sigma jumped up and blocked your only way out. You stagger back, hurting your jaw as it tightens out of confusion and other mixed up emotions. Sigma got a little closer to you, gently grabbing your arm while his eyes swirled with infatuation. “You’re so pretty..”

Again you tried to back up but Sigma just got closer, taking up the space that you abandoned to get away from him. Trying to pull your arm away from him was fruitless and he only got your other arm in his embrace. Sigma tried to pull you closer to him but you kept up your fight still trying to get him off while non-politely telling him to back off. “Please.. Just let me hold you. Just once is all I ask..”

It was only a whisper but it still sent chills down your spine at his desperate attempts. Tears started forming aggressively. He starts blabbering on how he really couldn't help himself and how he knew you were such an honest person when he first looked at you. The grip he had on you started to hurt as he buried himself on top of you. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you’ll understand eventually why I had to do this.. Stop it with those eyes and tears please..”

You could only start screaming in the hopes someone would at least come to your rescue, but deep down the answer was clear. This is your new life and only if you’d been a little stronger this wouldn't have even happened.

Plans to go to the sky casino should’ve stayed off the table.

[dotster001]

Hidden Desires Chapter Five

Summary: Jamil x gn! Reader. Now that you're at the Isle of Woe, your relationship with Jamil might be tested. Not that you even realize it.

CW: major spoilers for book six!!!!!!!!, not really transitions, just cuts from place to place, ideally imagine the events of book six occurring concurrently with this

Chapters: Prologue One Two Three Four Six

"Test two ready. Commencing Dive!"

Jamil heard Ortho's voice distantly in the headset, as the scene in the vr changed again. The first test him and Leona had faced was incredibly easy. If this was how all the tests would run, he had no doubt that himself and the other overblotters would finish and be released well before the twenty four hours they'd been contracted for were up.

As the scene finally settled, he looked around in confusion.

"We're in the greenhouse," Jamil muttered.

"Hmph," was all he got from Leona.

"Ayo! Leona! Where the hell have ya been!" 

"Ruggie?" Jamil breathed. 

"Jamil! You scared me! I'm so happy you're okay!" 

"Kalim," his eye twitched a bit, but he calmed his tension quickly. "Sorry Kalim. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Whatever, Leona if you don't get that potions essay in by the end of the day, Crewel 's gonna have my head on a platter," Ruggie said with a pout.

"Oh, I get it," Leona began, but was cut off by a new voice. 

"Jamil! Where did you go?" 

Your voice. And not long after, you. He felt all the tension ease from his shoulders as you walked towards him. Only for you to place your arm in Kalim's. Then press a kiss to his cheek.

"We should have a party to celebrate, right love?" You said sweetly.

Jamil was about to release a slew of curses, when the air filled with sand.

"Snap out of it, Viper. They're using our memories to create a scene that will upset us," Leona snapped.

Jamil's face split into a grin, "So if we don't get upset, we can calmly fight them."

"Correct. Prepare yourselves!"

….

"And what is the Ramshackle perfect doing here. That I don't understand," Idia said with a frown. He had just apprehended yourself, Epel, and Rook.

You should lie. You should say you were just here to drop off Vil's skincare routine. But you couldn't lie. Not when you were so close.

"I'm here for Grim and my boyfriend," you snapped. 

Idia rolled his eyes. "Sevens, of course you are. Normies are so predictable, allowing emotions to take over their senses."

"Wouldn't you be devastated if your boyfriend and your only family were both stolen from you in the same breath!" You shouted, meanwhile feeling Epel's hand slip into yours, and give it a reassuring squeeze.

Idia stared at Ortho for a moment. "I'll give you the family thing, but Jamil? C'mon! He's a guy!"

"Sounds like you speak from experience," Epel snickered, before getting fixed with a glare.

"Look, I already told you, less than twenty four hours from now, they're free to go, all of them. Then you can live your basic romantic lives, or whatever, and leave me alone."

"Fine," you hissed.

"Good. Ortho's going to escort you all to a room you can stay in, and have you sign some paperwork."

You held back any further retorts as Idia entered his chariot and flew away, leaving you and your rescue crew alone.

….

You really wish the world wasn't ending. It would have been far more relieving to have teamed up with the kidnapped overblotters. But Grim was still missing. And the world was indeed ending.

And now you were splitting up again to find Idia in Tartarus. In an unexpected way.

"Roi du poison, Epel, and I should be in one team, since we have spent the most time together, and thus will work the most seamlessly. And Y/N should come with us because we can protect them the most."

You wanted to go with Jamil. If you all failed, and the world got flooded in blot, you wanted to be by Jamil's side. To give the man you loved a last farewell. 

"A brilliant idea! I trust you three to protect our savior better than any of us!" Azul said with a bow.

You looked at Jamil, and noticed his clenched jaw, but the rest of the group was nodding in agreement, and he rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," he mouthed, and you gave him a tired smile.

"Then how should the rest of the groups split?"

In moments, the groups were split, and you were preparing to make your way into Tartarus. You turned to say something, anything, to Jamil, but Rook threaded his arm through yours, and dragged you off.

….

"May I give you each a hug and a kiss?"

You and Epel stared at Vil. But Rook excitedly spoke up for the both of you.

"Oui! It would be a wonderful way to experience your gratitude!"

Vil smiled softly and hugged you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He moved to Epel and did the same thing.

Then he stood before Rook. He slipped his hands into his. Then leaned in and passionately kissed his lips.

Rook froze, before reciprocating, and both you and Epel couldn't look away, as much as you longed to. It was when Vil began to lace his fingers in Rook's hair that Epel gave a not so subtle cough.

Vil pushed Rook away, despite being the one who started it, then gave his own cough.

"Shall we proceed?" Before anyone else could respond, he began his descent down the stairs, Rook trailing him like a lovesick puppy as you and Epel giggled behind him.

….

"I can't help but wonder, snake. For someone who always thinks so little of everyone else, and who lacks charisma, how did you get Y/N?"

Jamil had thought Leona was going to take another nap while they waited for the spear to recharge. After already being sliced into, and forced to reflect on his entire life view, he was not sure he wanted to start this conversation.

"Maybe  I have some charisma after all," he said with a smirk.

Leona gave him an unimpressed hmph.

"I don't know. Perhaps I proved to Y/N during Vil's overblot that I can protect them."

"Y/N doesn't need protection. Just cause they don't have magic, doesn't make them weak. They're the school beast tamer for a reason."

"That's just something Crowley calls them."

"Ha ha ha!" Leona let out a booming laugh. "Maybe, but I've known Y/N longer than you, as much as I'm sure you hate that. But the beast tamer title is legit. Hell, if you haven't noticed any of the changes we've all gone through, it just makes my question all the more valid!"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you sound jealous, housewarden," Jamil snickered.

"And what if I am? You're dating them, you know what they're like, can you really blame me?"

He bit his lip, and Leona snickered again. "I've been here before you, and I'll be here after."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jamil muttered.

"It means you don't seem to be taking to the beast taming, and Y/N will realize you haven't grown at all from the slimy snake who tried to kill them."

"Sevens, you sound like Azul," Jamil groaned.

"Is the octopus after Y/N too?" 

"No he just…he's overprotective."

"Fair. Rather not fight him if I don't have to, so that's good to know."

Jamil was prepared to offer up a retort, but was met with a soft snore.

"Unbelievable," he groaned.

Logically, he knew there was a chance that some of the overblot crew, who sat with you at lunch every single day even if they had to share a chair, would be into you.

But Leona?

He thought back to when you watched the stars together in the Scarabia dorm. But when he looked at the memory now, he saw Leona. Leona who was kissing you roughly, like a predator who caught his prey. Leona, who laid you down against the carpet. Leona, who pinned one of your wrists above your head, while your other hand slipped into his hair. Leona who released a low growl as he deepened the kiss.

"Fuck!" Jamil shouted, standing up from his seat and pacing angrily.

He should be happy. He should be happy there was someone who'd pick up the pieces if he had to leave you for something or someone else. He knew it might have to go there someday; once he'd rebuilt his reputation, which he was nearly done with, he'd have to take whatever was the next step to building his power, both at school and in life.

But he couldn't be happy.

And that was terrifying.

The world  could end in moments if they failed, and all he could think about was how Rook had pulled you away before he could say goodbye. His reputation and future be damned, all he wanted right now was to hold you.

This was terrifying.

Leona was wrong. Your beast taming had affected him. Even if you didn't mean to be taming him, you had done it successfully anyway.

Sevens.

Why did he have to love you?

….

Idia had overblotted sort of. Riddle's hair has turned white. Vil had aged. You'd gotten Grim back. And now you were about to go home.

But first…

"Hey, Idia?" He looked at you startled, his eyes wide.

"I just want to say, when you come back, if you need someone to talk to about…all of this, I'm always there to listen. You don't have to suffer alone."

Idia slowly nodded, and you turned to climb into the aircraft. Jamil was staring at you, eyes blank, and you gave him a reassuring smile. He extended a hand, and you took it, using all your strength to pull him into a hug.

"I'm so happy you're okay," you whispered, feeling safe in his arms as he tightened the hug.

"C'mon lovebirds, let's go," Leona said with a laugh.

You giggled and pulled Jamil with you into the aircraft. The trip felt like it would be a silent one.Then Vil started sobbing.

"Roi du poison!"

"Don't look at me Rook! I'm old, and rotting away!"

"Roi du poison-"

"I've been robbed of my youth and middle ages!"

"What happened to your speech from before?" Azul asked, clear amusement in his voice.

"I was trying to keep control of the situation!" Vil shrieked, but was stopped when Rook cupped his cheeks.

"I love you! And I will always find you beautiful! If you were a worm, I would still find you beautiful!" Rook cried.

Vil sniffled, then leaned in and kissed Rook. The kiss continued for a little too long, and everyone looked away.

"Unrequited love, huh?" You snickered.

You could have sworn you felt Rook kick your seat between kisses.

….

Jamil watched as you and the rest of the group gamed together. In particular, he was watching Idia. Idia who slowly moved himself closer and closer to you. Idia who genuinely smiled when you spoke to him. Idia who ignored his own controller so that he could help you play.

"Beast tamer, huh?" Jamil muttered to himself.

One day under your light, and Idia was already growing as a person. Jamil didn't feel any different. At least not where it mattered. Yes, he loved you. He loves you more than anything.

But was that enough for him to deserve you?

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @leonia0 @mizucika @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @kurenix @starshiningsirius @pikeru565 @da-disappointment @dearhyacinths @carpediem1219 @ravenkake @savanaclaw1996 @felinegrate

[goodqueenaly]

Absolutely here for the way Sansa turns from using the story of Prince Aemon and Queen Naerys to idealize Joffrey (and, so she believes in that moment, her love for him) to using the story of Aemon and Queen Naerys to defend someone against Joffrey's abuse

Sansa first cites the romanticized history in AGOT, as the royal party travels near the ruby ford back to the capital:

The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

If Sansa's history is generally right here (at least regarding the verifiably historical figures she references), her allusion fails to accurately reflect her own situation. Far from Prince Aemon defying his royal brother's clumsy attempt to invent an almost certainly untrue accusation against their queen-sister by offering to stand as her champion in a trial by combat, Prince Joffrey had only followed the directions of the queen herself to go to Sansa, and later spend the day with her. Nor does either Ilyn Payne or Sandor Clegane really fit the role of Morgil Hastwyck, who had openly denounced the queen as a traitor and participant in an extramarital affair with Aemon himself: Joffrey in fact brags to Sansa that Sandor is his "dog" (or, as he allows, his mother's dog), obedient and "ever faithful" to the prince's command, and if Sandor had made a dry joke about the Stark direwolves, neither he nor the unwillingly mute Ilyn had actually falsely accused Sansa of anything, much less a crime for which the penalty was death (as Naerys had been accused). Indeed, though Sansa could not have known it in this moment, it would not be Joffrey who, Aemon-like, would intervene to save the life and honor of Sansa by confronting an antagonist knight in single combat, but Joffrey who would himself direct Ser Ilyn to crush and traumatize Sansa via the order for her father's head; likewise, it would be Sandor Clegane, very pointedly not a knight, who would intervene to help Sansa, as Joffrey gloried in the killing of Ned Stark and directed another one of his knights to abuse Sansa.

Later in AGOT, as Sansa still believes she loves Joffrey, she again uses Naerys and Aemon’s (supposed) romance:

"I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."

Here, however, Sansa's allusion to Aemon and Naerys even less resembles the real-world history, much less her own situation. If Aemon and Naerys really did love one another (and I think they did, putting aside the very obvious criticisms of Aemon's position in the Kingsguard relative to Naerys' woeful position as queen), I definitely do not believe they ever engaged in a sexual affair, much less that the future Daeron II was the product of such an affair. (In fact, it was Naerys who had approached her father to prevent the marriage and her brother to end it after the birth of Daeron - hardly an auspicious example for Sansa.) To be clear, Sansa is I think only repeating the romanticized tale passed down by singers and storytellers for the better part of 150 years - yet even without a true sense of historical accuracy, Sansa's citation to Aemon and Naerys little supports her actual relationship with Joffrey. Indeed, far from the beau ideal of chivalry which Aemon the Dragonknight has come to represent in Westerosi culture, Joffrey instead more closely resembles Aegon IV - abusive, cruel, and hateful, eager for any humiliation great or petty (and especially sexual) which he could inflict upon his betrothed, much as Aegon had done toward Naerys. The story of Aemon and Naerys persists in Westerosi culture, moreover, in no small part because it is a doomed and tragic romance - an impossible love which neither queen nor prince could satisfy in their respective positions, clouded by a suspicious, malicious king. If Sansa had wished to cast herself and Joffrey as perfect lovers destined by their love to be together, her choice of story accomplishes precisely the opposite; to the extent that she and Joffrey will resemble this story, it will be with Sansa as the miserable princess doomed to marry the king and Joffrey as the king who causes her such misery.

So in ACOK, well aware of Joffrey's sadism and patterns of abuse, Sansa again reaches for the example of Aemon and Naerys - not, though, to laud Joffrey, but to support another against him:

Prince Tommen sobbed. "You mew like a suckling babe," his brother hissed at him. "Princes aren't supposed to cry." "Prince Aemon the Dragonknight cried the day Princess Naerys wed his brother Aegon," Sansa Stark said, "and the twins Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk died with tears on their cheeks after each had given the other a mortal wound."

Whatever the historical accuracy of her statement - Yandel reporting that "[t]he singers say that Aemon and Naerys both wept during the ceremony, though the histories tell us Aemon quarreled with Aegon at the wedding feast, and that Naerys wept during the bedding rather than the wedding" - Sansa seizes here on a pointedly apt moment from the story of Aemon and Naerys, as a direct counter to Joffrey's sneering criticism of his brother. Just as the occasion of his sister's marriage had (again, so the singers relate) been the cause of brother Aemon's tears, so now Tommen weeps to see his own only sister depart for her marriage. Nor does the parallel end there: here again, as in the days of Aemon and Naerys, are there three royal siblings, two brothers and a sister - and if neither Myrcella nor Tommen are exact duplicates of Naerys and Aemon, both live in shadow of an abusive and cruel eldest brother. Sansa takes the opportunity of Joffrey's attempt to hurt and demean Tommen by providing so admired an example of Tommen's very conduct. If even Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, popularly beloved for his (apparent) chivalry, bravery, and nobility, could have been seen to weep at his sister's nuptial parting without losing any of his celebrated standing, then how could Joffrey, so Sansa argues through this allusion, criticize Tommen in nearly the exact same circumstance? Just as Sansa had used (invented) singer mythology to defend Dontos Hollard from Joffrey's brutality, so now she cites the legend of Prince Aemon, preserved in song, to stand up for Tommen against the same.

[niyanispunk]

Putting in a request for some Soft!Joel 🥺

I read this quote earlier today and it said “I’m drunk and I hate everything but you. I love you. A lot.”

And it made me think of Joel and that it would be something he would maybe say and idk!!!!!! It gave me the warm and fuzzies!!!!!!!!

Drunk words, Sober Thoughts

Soft!Joel x reader

Warning/s: none

Words: 877

a/n: Hello love thank you sm for requesting, this is so cute I was actually excited when I was writing it so hope you love it! (unedited)

—

It's Friday night, means you get to go off early. You work as a bartender in a bar at Jackson. Friday also means the Miller Brothers are getting a drink tonight, and you can't be more happy seeing Joel after a week after...well after you confessing your undying love to Him, you can't read His reaction Is He mad at you? so many thoughts ringing in your ear then He suddenly storm out and avoid you for the whole week. You and Joel first met when Ellie and Him first arrived at Jackson, you're the one who showed them their new house just a few houses away from yours, your second interaction with Joel was at the bar, A week after they arrived, the first time He talked to you other than just nodding. Since then you two goes patrol together and He visits you at the bar every night.

Wiping the tables and getting ready to go when you suddenly see a Familiar form approaching, "off already?" Joel's brother, Tommy. "hmm" you hum, finishing wiping out "Tough week?" tough week indeed you thought. "Yeah well...where's Joel?" you changed the topic "He's just finishing— Oh there He is" there He is, red flannel rolled up just to His elbows, messy hair as always, His eyes searching for something till they land on you, you're burning— cheeks are red and memories of your last meeting flood back, you found yourself excusing before he even approach you.

You got home early and goes straight to bed, completely passed out on your bed you immediately fell asleep, It's past 12 when you're suddenly woken up by the rocks hitting your windows You walked up towards the window and open it up, there you see Joel, waving at you obviously drunk but stopped when you disappeared, You goes down almost immediately opening the door "what are you doing??" you asked "can I sleep here tonight?" confused, you don't know what gotten into Him "what— c'mon I'm gonna take you home." quickly snatching your coat then helping the unstable Joel to walk.

Joel struggling to open the door, you to the rescue. "lemme—" He suddenly slaps your hand "I can do it." He tried again, failed. it's His time to look at you with those brown orbs asking for you to open the door but when you're about to twist the knob a sleepy Ellie coming to open it for you "ughh...thank you Y/n, you can just leave Him on the couch. " letting you in "I think im'ma stay for a little while, you can go back upstairs." you said giving the kid a soft smile which They return.

When you're done cleaning, you put a clean flannel shirt of Joel on the end of the couch for Him to change when He wakes up and a glass of water on the coffee table.

When you're about to stand up Joel suddenly hold your hand "stay." still half asleep you crouched down again to look at Him better, Him finally opening His eyes "You have a pretty eyes. " after a while He then strokes your hair "Smooth hair too. " He keeps stroking your hair, admiring your facial features "Thought you hated me. " He chuckled at that then suddenly sitting up taking you with Him to sit on His lap surprising you, when you finally got comfortable His hand finds you hair, stroking it again. "I'm drunk and hate everything but you. I love you. A lot." it's your time to cupped His face with one hand and Him leaning on your touch closing His eyes "can you say that again when you wake up tomorrow?" He loosely wraps His arms around your hips burrying His head on your chest nooding. He now take you with Him lying down on the couch sleeps overtaking the both of you.

The next morning you woke up with Him burying His head in your neck murmuring a good morning leaving small kisses now and then.

Turning you towards Him to get a better look at your face

"I love you. A lot." He said with a soft smile. you're grinning ear to ear, hotness creeping up from your stomach to your face, both of your hands cupping His face kissing Him passionately which He immediately returned, Oh how Inlove you are to this man.

"Well good morning to me" Ellie said as They walked in the living room, you both pulled away Joel glaring on Ellie's direction whose now preparing breakfast, You giggling and blushing like you're just caught red handed.

You both walked in the kitchen Isle Ellie handing Joel His coffee and you giving Him medicine for His headache. "So it's official?" Ellie suddenly blurts out "Ellie—" Joel looks at you then back to the kid "uhm—" Is It really official? you two didn't even spoke to each other just unsaid feelings, soft stares— god knows you two would always make an eye contact and then you're lost, lost in those brown orbs of His. "yes." Joel said looking at you as if asking "Yeah kid." You said softly "I knew it, You two we're literally eye fuc—" Joel suddenly cutting Them "C'mon let's eat, food's gettin' cold." you just giggled at Ellie sending daggers on Joel's direction, following Him to the table Ellie followed suit, sitting, you look at Joel's direction seeing a hint of pink on His cheeks chuckling and eating your breakfast peacefully with Ellie asking so many questions.

End.

—

[cosmicjoke]

i have a trouble characterizing furlan in my head i cant seem to understand what he is like

Well, Furlan's a very interesting character, and complex, I think, so I can see why it would be hard to fit him into any, one box.

Just the fact he's Levi's first, real friend says a lot though. I imagine most people probably never gave Levi a chance, really, to become their friend. They would have taken one look at him, at his seemingly surely, unfriendly attitude, his unsociable demeanor, and probably been turned off. And doubtless Levi's reputation proceeded him. Most people probably thought he was too dangerous to get near. But Furlan wasn't really afraid of Levi, which is very interesting. He knew Levi was strong, as evidenced by the fact that he tried to force Levi into joining his gang. But the fact he even took that chance tells us Furlan wasn't scared enough of Levi and his strength to steer clear of him, like I imagine most people were.

It's important to understand too that Furlan's initial interaction with Levi was an attempt to manipulate and use him. He essentially saw Levi as a mark, as someone he could press into his own service to bolster his gang's standing Underground. Of course, his plan failed miserably, and I think the fact that Levi didn't fall for it was probably a bit of a shock to Furlan. Furlan strikes me as the sort of person who was maybe a little cocky, a little arrogant, because he was used to being able to get people to do what he wanted with words alone. He was used to being able to manipulate others. But Levi saw right through him, and I think that probably forced Furlan to start respecting Levi a little more, and to start regarding him more as a person than as simply a weapon he could utilize. Maybe he initially thought Levi was just a dumb thug that he could easily control. But of course we know Levi is anything but stupid.

We also know that Levi saved Furlan's life at some point. We don't have any real detail on it, other than Furlan mentioning that his own gang turned against him, and Levi rescued him. I kind of imagine, from that one line, that, after trying to lay a trap for him, Levi had been paying attention to Furlan and his movements, keeping an eye on him, and that's how he was able to intervene and save Furlan's life. Maybe Levi was impressed by this kid's guts, by his willingness to engage with Levi at all. Like I said, I doubt many other people, if any at all, had been willing to even give Levi the time of day. Furlan, whether he realized it or not, was probably the first person to ever, really treat Levi like he wasn't some kind of unapproachable monster. And by doing so, he was maybe the first person since Kuchel died to ever treat Levi like a person. All Levi needed was a chance to be someone's friend, and we see where that lead. Furlan became like family to Levi. He became someone Levi was willing to do just about anything for, including going along with his wild plans.

What I get from the dynamic between Levi and Furlan is that Levi, essentially, lets Furlan use him. He acts as the muscle to Furlan's plans. He lets Furlan make the decisions, etc... Even as Furlan and Isabel sort of see Levi as their de facto leader, and Levi indeed leads them when it comes to immediate action, like what to do and where to go in the midst of a heist, for example, we never actually see Levi give out any sort of dictates or put his foot down and tell Furlan no. He seems to leave all of the scheming up to Furlan, and whatever those plans are that he comes up with, Levi is just there to execute them. When Erwin makes his offer to Levi to join the SC, we see Levi look over at Furlan, as if for confirmation of what his answer should be. He leaves the decision to him.

We see this same dynamic develop between Levi and Erwin later on, of course. And this isn't a statement on Levi's submissiveness as a character, as I'm sure some people like to frame it. What it is, I think, is a testament to Levi's selflessness and his commitment to others. He puts his own wants and needs aside for the sake of other people's wants and needs. Levi isn't interested in telling people what to do, or in controlling them. He isn't interested in power. He just wants to help people, and he does that by letting people use him for whatever it is they need him for.

Levi doesn't want to accept Lovof's offer of going to the surface, for example. He's got a bad feeling about it, and doesn't trust Lovof or the situation. But Furlan wants to go to the surface. We know it's something he's been trying to accomplish for a long time. It's his dream. And Levi has always been somebody who, while having no real dream of his own, supports the dreams of others. So Levi goes along with his plan of accepting Lovof's offer and joining the Survey Corps. He agrees to help, even as it's something he himself doesn't particularly want.

I also tend to think Furlan is a bit reckless, and Levi kind of serves as the person who gets him out of binds when things go south. That Furlan's own gang turned on him and he needed to be rescued is part of what makes me think that about him. And the fact he wants to go along with Lovof's offer, despite the obvious risks, is another reason. Levi strikes me as the practical one in their relationship, while Furlan strikes me as the one who might go off half-cocked on a hope and prayer, lol. I think, oddly, he's maybe the wild one of the group. Not that he's stupid. Far from it. Furlan is obviously quite intelligent. But like I said, maybe a little reckless and a risk taker. I think Levi would have been much more content to just keep his little family safe in an environment that he knew and understood, one he could keep them protected from, awful as that environment was, rather than take the risk of going some place he knew nothing about, with threats he couldn't predict or anticipate.

Basically, I think Furlan was the dreamer of their little group, and Levi was there to protect him, as well as Isabel, and to protect those dreams.

Once someone gave Levi the chance to be that for them, to be a protector, he took it. Because that's what Levi naturally is. That's who he's always been. Someone who helps and supports others. And I think Furlan was probably the first real person to allow Levi to be that, the first person that let Levi be who he actually is.