#writing anything original is so fucking hard and no one looks at it anyway

[rowanisawriter]

.

[changetyre]

Not like this II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death

A/N: I've always wanted to write a Mafia imagine and I've had this idea in the drafts for like 2 years now and finally decided to write it out so here it is ;)

Thud.

Charles's eyes snapped open at the loud noise originating from his living room. His hand immediately clasped the gun that rested under his pillow as he listened out for anything else.

The shuffling that followed was enough to have him getting out of bed silently as he made his way around his bedroom.

He could hear someone grunting. He opened his door, darkness enveloped the living room the only light being from the large windows which surrounded it.

"For fuck's sake." He heard someone whisper and he thought he recognized the voice but it simply couldn't be right?

He walked further into the living room, seeing someone's feet disappear behind the coffee table. He silently took more steps toward whoever was there.

"Before you kill me could you at least get me a drink? Anything with Whiskey will do." Charles heard as you spoke breathless from your spot on the floor.

He finally closed the distance standing by your feet in fact confirming it was you. His gun still pointed right at your head.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Charles asked annoyed.

"Ugh." you sighed. "Long story but your guards are really sh*t you know, killed them both in no time." You laughed, being stopped by a painful grunt.

Charles turned on the lamp on the table by the end of the couch providing enough light for him to see the trail of blood you'd left along with the pool of blood forming on his white carpet.

"You're ruining my carpet." Charles scoffed putting his gun away.

"Least I could do before letting you kill me." You shrugged, your breathing only getting heavier.

"What do you mean letting me kill you?" Charles asked as he moved away and around his apartment. You weren't able to see what he was doing from your spot on the floor where you'd decided to rest.

"We got attacked...idk who they are but- Fuck-" You grunted in pain again after moving slightly. "They are powerful Charles, they killed us ...every single one of us."

"Not you." Charles spoke from afar.

"Basically did." You laughed which you soon regretted with the pain it brought you. The gunshot to your stomach kept spurting blood despite you pressing hard on it.

"So why did you come here apart from dirtying my place?" Charles asked again, you could hear him opening and closing cupboards.

"Well you know...figured this ongoing battle we had going on, to see who would kill who first...Well, I'm gonna die anyway so I might as well let you win." You shuffled so your back rested on the couch and you could sit up slightly not caring one bit about covering the white couch with your blood.

Charles came back into view holding a bottle of whiskey, along with tongs, bandages, and a suture kit.

"Not my fucking couch!" Charles yelled annoyed.

"What's that for?" You asked but Charles didn't bother answering before he ripped your shirt from the side effortlessly allowing him to see your wound.

"Won't even invite me a drink first?" You joked, but your humor was short-lived as Charles pushed your hand away pouring the liquid over it.

"FU-" your voice was muffled as Charles put a rag on your mouth letting you bite down on it.

Charles didn't waste time as he disinfected the tools before sticking them in your wound looking for the bullet.

You writhed around in pain and despite this not being the first bullet you've taken somehow this one felt more painful.

"Stay Still." Charles demanded making you roll your eyes at him.

After what felt like forever he finally took the bullet out showing it to you before throwing it on the already bloodied carpet.

"I hate you." You spit the ragout and panted as you tried to steady your breath.

"Shut up." Charles's focus stayed on your body as he began sowing your wound shut.

"Why are you even doing this?" You asked.

Charles didn't answer you and you wondered what he was thinking about.

"Shit-" You hissed at the pain from the needle and thread going through you.

"Done." he avoided your eyes as he got up gathering everything up with him and moving away again.

"Charles-" you called out.

You still didn't have the strength to get up and go after him but a few seconds later Charles came back with water and a pill.

"Take this." He placed them both on the table in front of you before turning to walk away again.

"Charles answer me." You said more firmly this time.

He stopped in his tracks before turning around to face you. "If I'm gonna kill you...it'll be after a fair fight." He answered.

"Charles I have nothing left." You said, this time not caring how weak your voice sounded or the way your eyes watered in front of him. "Didn't you hear me? They killed all of my people." it pained you, truly did to think of all of the loyal men and women that were gone in a single night. "They think I'm dead too so just finish the job...please" you begged, something you'd never done before.

Charles didn't speak for a few seconds, avoiding your eyes again. "Drink that. I'll get the guest room ready since I can't ask my men to do it."

[daydreamingleclerc]

gorgeous; lewis hamilton

y/n's boyfriend is arguably one of the worst men on the planet, so, she decides to hook up with a pretty boy she meets in a club.

includes; smut, oral (m, f), fingering, degradation, teasing, spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, sir!kink, dom!lewis, sub!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, squirting. this hasn't been proofread.

this is part of my taylor swift masterlist which you can find here. thank you to @sainzcaleruega and @landopeaches for always hyping up my writing even when i think it sucks <33

he was arguably one of the most attractive people she'd ever seen. that was a fact. his skin glowed under the harsh lighting, somehow making him look ethereal in a sea of sweaty, aggressively lit men and women, and whenever he looked over in her direction her skin buzzed with a sense of anticipation she didn't find anywhere else. a sense of excitement she hadn't felt for what felt like a lifetime.

as stubborn as he was in these situations, he had to admit - she too, was one of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes upon. the way she looked so effortlessly, shamelessly gorgeous in a room full of women who'd tried a little too hard to impress drew him to her like a moth to a flame. she didn't have to try, not for him, anyway.

"can i buy you a drink?"

the line was cheesy, and half-expected when she waltzed up to the bar. he watched her every move, as she weaved her way in and out of the crowd with ease, as if it was a habit. her lips curled up into a half smile and she pondered on the origin of his accent.

"i've got a boyfriend," her eyes raked across the selection of flavoured liquor standing on the shelf, and she waited for his reaction to come. he waivered, only slightly. "but if you want to take me home with you i suggest you try a lot harder than buying me a drink."

the man smirked and stood in closer, only by a few millimeters. his hand draped over the small of her back, and in that moment she noticed his scent. he smelled divine, the scent of richness and old money that she'd scoured so hard to find; he smelt like a man who was familiar with the ins and outs of what he was doing and that was almost enough for her to cave.

"what are you drinking?" he questioned. his voice was soft yet firm, and even under the boom of heavy music, she could hear him crystal clear.

"surely you should be able to tell," she glanced over at him for the first time since he struck up a conversation, but soon faced the liquors again, "a man with your intelligence, expertise. you know what a woman wants, so figure it out."

he admired her nonchalant nature, and so he went ahead and ordered for her, "a whiskey on ice and a tequila sunrise," his eyes flickered over to her as he spoke and immediately flickered back to the barman.

"anything else?"

"two orgasms," the barman almost walked away until she spoke, he nodded, and she glanced over at the pretty man beside her, "i'd ask for a couple more, but that's just being selfish."

he leaned in closer again, his fingers brushing her hipbones and marking his territory to those around him. "it's rude to have no manners," his finger's ran up the side of her dress, feeling out the zip just underneath the armpit so he could toggle on it later, "but then again, you'll be using them later."

"you seem oddly confident," she rose to his game fiercely and feistily, her eyes still avoiding him, "it's almost a pity."

her cockiness was arousing to him. he loved it when women fell at his feet, but this game was so much more entertaining for him to play. he couldn't help but hide a smirk. "we'll see who's going to be pitied when you're desperate enough to beg."

the drinks were brought to the pair of them quickly, and he watched as she knocked back both orgasms without a singular hitch in her face - oh, if only she knew how the orgasms he provided would leave her reeling.

"aren't you going to ask me about my boyfriend, about why i'm here in a crowded club all alone?"

it was clear to him she'd played this game multiple times before, but now she'd just confirmed it. "no," he simply smiled, and when she startled, his face grew wider, "judging by the fact you're out, talking to me, allowing me to buy you drinks, means you don't want to talk about him," his finger circled the rim of his whiskey glass, "but it also tells me you've come here to do this before, time and time again, desperate for somebody to show you a good time. am i right?"

her mouth suddenly went dry.

she sucked the cocktail through the small straw, and he waited patiently for her response.

"you could say that's correct," it pissed her off to admit he was right; she didn't like doing that, "do you think you're up to the task?" her eyes looked right into his, and for the first time that night, she allowed herself to get lost in them, "because i don't think you've got what it takes."

their lips were so close in that moment, she could feel his breath fanning at her skin and it ignited a fire inside of her stomach. the tension could be sliced with a knife, and when he placed his finger on her lips to halt her movements, it drove her crazy.

"you couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart."

"prove it to me, then."

her lips puckered slightly so she could kiss the pad of his finger, but in his haste he allowed himself to divulge in the taste of her tongue. sparks flew inside of her stomach at the prospect of what was inevitably going to happen, and when his tongue slid along her bottom lip, she fought it. Y/N wasn't one for giving in that easily.

"i don't even know your name," the man muttered against her lips, pulling away for a short breath of air in the midst of all his hormones, "and i'd, at the very least, like to tell you mine so you know what name to type into your phone next time you go looking for a man to make you feel good."

"you're so cocky," she hummed, pulling away from him snappishly to fumble on the counter for her drink. she admired the lipstick stain smeared across his chin. "it's almost humbling."

"you're so eager," he retorted, allowing himself a moment of composure. her body language was buzzing, and her eagerness to allow him to have his way with her was radiating off of her skin and bouncing among the pair of them like energy. "you might as well just bend over and let me fuck you in here."

he watched as the glimmer in her eyes shone, and cottoned onto the notion that she loved the thought of that. she knew that he could sense it, too, and she cursed herself for allowing her eyes to be so distinctively emotional.

"your eyes say everything you don't, darling," he paused and leaned closer, and when she went in for another kiss, he laughed. "see, i'm already starting to pity you."

he watched as she knocked back her drink, and as much as he wanted to tease her some more and hang back in the club for an hour or so, this was his forte.

"i hope your boyfriends not expecting you back anytime soon," he grabbed at her hand as he pulled her through the crowd, the manner brash and needy, nothing like the way she waltzed through it last time. "my name's lewis, by the way. you're gonna need to remember that."

/

his hotel room wasn't that far of a journey, and Y/N thanked her lucky stars when her initial thoughts were right - he was rich, and she was going to make sure to be calling him again.

"you still haven't told me your name," he said, handing her a small glass filled with tequila soda.

she took a sip, "is that a bad thing?"

"i'd at least like to know your name before i fuck you, yeah," he took a sip of his and perched on the edge of the armchair opposite her. her legs looked deliciously long and slender from this angle, and the light bounced off of them and caused a sleek shine. "is that a bad thing?"

"i suppose not," she hummed, and leaned forward to place her drink on the table. her cleavage squeezed between her arms as she moved and lewis struggled to keep himself composed. "Y/N."

Y/N.

he felt at peace knowing he had a name to put to the face, and it was just as beautiful as he imagined. she leaned back in her chair and her eyes gazed over him, and he was in awe of how she did everything so effortlessly. he leaned over the coffee table and hovered over her, his hands resting on the arm of her chair.

now that they could see one another clearer, and the atmosphere was less intrusive, there was a self consciousness surrounding them, as if they didn't want to get it wrong or overstep their mark; even though they both knew what they were here to do.

when lewis leaned down to kiss her, she melted into him almost immediately, and any traces of the feisty, fiery lady she once was at the bar had subsided. she was his, ultimately and indefinitely his, for this night.

lewis' hands trailed down her arms and along the stitching of the dress in an attempt to find the zipper from earlier. "may i...?" he asked, although when she'd started to nod, he was already pulling it down.

the dress completely unzipped and when lewis sunk to his knees and helped her to shimmy out of it, she didn't stop him. his lips caressed her thighs, kissing at the hot, slightly sweaty skin just to tease her as his thumbs and forefingers massaged at her calves.

her impatience had begun to seep through and it was clear to him she was beginning to become desperate when he noticed the material of her lace underwear changing colour due to the damp patch. he couldn't help but smirk.

his lips trailed across her pubic bone, that was partially hidden by the flimsy excuse for underwear, and as he kissed along the hot skin, she jolted and shimmied in anticipation.

"waiting for something?"

Y/N bucked her hips, but lewis' hands flew to her thighs and stopped her before she could gain any friction from the contact. "i said," he repeated, "are you waiting for something?"

she grumbled, "if you're not gonna fucking do it, then i'll find someone else who will."

lewis' eyes darkened, and she soon realised she was probably going to regret saying those words. he yanked at the material of her underwear and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it over his shoulder. "legs up," he motioned for her to swing her legs onto the arms of the chair, and she obliged, swinging them up onto the arms despite the ache it brought to her thighs. "good girl, you do know how to listen."

he savored the moment, allowing his fingers to slide within her folds and touch her delicately, swirling the pad of his middle finger around her clit and pressing softly into her opening. she was mewling, soft little whimpers and hardly-there noise that screamed out so much.

lewis' tongue swirled around her clit and immediately her hands flew to his dreadlocks. his hands splayed across her thighs as he worked his tongue around her, his facial hair only adding to her sensations.

"you taste so fucking good," he pulled away for a minute, and she looked up to watch him conjuring up spit. "i could stay here all fucking night."

she moaned, tipping her head back and getting lost in the feeling of him. she'd never experienced head like this before, and she couldn't quite contain herself. his hands moved from her thighs down to her bum, where one massaged the flesh and the other trailed up to where she needed attention the most.

"are you sure you can handle this? hm?" he cooed, pulling his lips away from her clit and causing her to cry out, "i don't know if you're ready."

"i am," she pouted, "please, lewis."

he smirked, and with that he pressed two fingers inside of her, and immediately she began to clench. "see, i told you i'd have you begging."

his fingers inside of her felt surreal, the way they hit every ridge and curve so well and slid through her wetness. she was dripping down his hand, she knew it, and she showed no shame. his fingertips curled and when they tickled her g-spot she flinched, her legs shooting outwards with a mind of their own.

"god, fucking hell if you keep on doing that i'm gonna cum."

lewis kissed at the inside of her thigh as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, "what did i tell you earlier about your manners, darling? they really are atrocious."

"i-i'm sorry," she mumbled, "please can i...?"

"please can you what, Y/N?"

she frowned for a second but she was whipped into shape quickly when he slapped her thigh. "please can i cum?"

"see," lewis kissed her clit and made her jolt, "that really wasn't so hard, was it baby?"

she shook her head, and when lewis' movements sped up, she saw it as her sign to cum. her legs trembled and her back arched off of the armchair, and she came hard and fast all over his fingers. he looked up at her with hooded eyes as she came down from her orgasm, her arms were over her head tugging at the armchair cushion and her back was still arched. she looked fucked out already, and her heavy breathing made him hard as a rock.

he knew he needed her now, no more waiting. he had to be inside of her, he wanted to make everyone in the rooms surrounding him know he could pleasure a woman right.

she felt a buzz in her stomach at the manhandling. lewis had picked her up from her state on the armchair and pushed her onto all fours on the adjoining sofa.

"do you still believe that i don't have what it takes, sweetheart?"

she turned her face round to look at him, and when he pulled his shirt off to reveal a body full of tattoos, she almost died on the spot. he knew she was checking him out, and he couldn't help but flex a little as he weaved his belt out of his trousers, and when she shook her head with a smirk on her face, she knew she was in trouble.

"well i think you're a fucking liar." he grabbed at her neck and squeezed the flesh softly until she made an audible choking sound, and then he released her. she continued to admire him through hazy eyes, and when he stood completely naked behind her she almost felt her knees give way.

he lined himself up with her and pushed in all the way, leaving her almost screaming at the fullness. he left her no time to properly adjust to his size before he pulled out and slid back inside her again with ease.

"oh, fuck, lewis," she cried out, her head throwing back. he grabbed ahold of her hips and squeezed at the flesh of her bum, slapping and kneading it between his hands. "you're so fucking big."

he left a slap to her bum once more. he enjoyed the ego boost.

"so fucking tight," he grunted as he continued to thrust, each time getting deeper and deeper, "your boyfriend really doesn't fuck you right, does he baby? hm?"

"no," she whined, a yelp of pain drawn from her lips when he wrapped his hand around her hair and used it as leverage, too. "only you, lewis."

he slapped her bum again. "that's the right fucking answer, only i can fuck you this good," his hips were slamming against her bum now, and lewis watched the constant loop of recoils that took place in front of him. "isn't that right, baby? hm? you're never gonna go to anybody else, that pussy's all mine, isn't it?"

"n-no, sir," she choked out, and lewis audibly growled, "nobody else. yours."

he laughed at her garbled nonsense. "good girl, you sound so pretty now that there's not a thought left in that pretty little head."

Y/N knew she wasn't going to last much longer, and lewis could tell because of the wet sounds her pussy was making as he fucked her, and the way she clenched him like a vice every time he pulled back out.

"gonna cum for me, Y/N?" he left a slap to her bum and pulled her right up against his chest by her hair, until he managed to wrap an arm around her torso and lock her in with his strength. her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged at his dreads. "come on, baby. i know you can."

his free hand reached around and strummed at her clit, leaving her no wiggling room. the overstimulation became too much, and as lewis' lips bit down on her earlobe, she squirted all around him, her pussy clenching and convulsing uncontrollably as she screamed and rode out her high.

it took everything in lewis not to cum inside of her then and there, but he knew he needed restraint. he needed to be careful.

he pulled out of her and she fell limp, but lewis manhandled her once again, "don't think you're finished yet, baby," he pushed the strands of sweaty hair from her face over to the side of her neck, "i wanna see my dick in your pretty mouth first."

she hummed, and took as much of him in her mouth as she could, and lewis couldn't help but thrust his hips. the contractions of her throat gagging around him made his groan, and he had to suck in deep breaths every time he pushed back into her mouth.

spit trickled down Y/N's chin and pooled at her knees on the floor as she sucked at him sloppily. the movements of her tongue combined with his thrusts down her throat meant he wasn't going to last long.

"hold still," lewis said, bunching her hair up into a ponytail with his hand and fucking her face, the noises falling from her mouth at the sensation enough to make him groan. "fu-uck, that's it. good girl."

one hand fell to her cheek and she looked up at him as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. he pressed the base of his dick flush against her tongue, and admired her pretty face as beads of cum landed on her tongue, nose and cheeks.

she gathered it all up on her tongue and he watched as she let it drool from the tip and trickle down onto her chest, merging with her spit and sweat. he'd never been more ready for another round in his life.

Y/N sat back on her heels and when lewis held out a hand for her to get up, her legs wobbled and she had to wait several moments before they regained usage.

"thank you," she smiled, wiping her chin, "i've not had sex that good in a long time."

"ditto," lewis smiled. the pair of them sat back on the sofa in silence, enjoying the company of the other person. "if you want to stay, you can."

"thank you," she smiled again, a sincere, almost apologetic smile. "i'd love that, but i think i need to shower before i make my mind up."

he nodded, and rose to his feet with an outstretched arm, "come with me, i'll help you clean yourself up."

[br7ght]

Little Slut millie bright

summary: Your on-pitch rivalry with Millie Bright turns into a night you'll never forget

warnings: dom!millie, sub!reader, hate sex, gagging, degradation, praise kink (shocker), fingering, spanking, cunnilingus, and an embarrassingly large amount of dirty talk.

pairing: millie bright x reader

word count: 6000 [i genuinely could not stop writing and it's still going to be a two-parter ;)]

SMUT 18+

Just a simple reminder that this is fiction! If you don't like this content then simply do not read it! You have been warned

It was the third day of training camp and Sarina had you and the rest of the team playing a five-a-side game, just a friendly practice, but with Lucy and Millie playing it was never going to be anything like a friendly match. You were usually a semi-aggressive player, sliding in for tackles when you felt the match wasn’t going your way, but nothing in comparison to the other two. You were upfront, Millie Bright marking you as if you had hurt her in a previous life.

You two never really got along anyway, you both rubbed each other up the wrong way and you’d barely spent any time with her in comparison to the rest of the girls. You played for opposing teams and even fans had started to realise the tension between you two. One of you always seemed to end up on the floor when you played against each other, and Millie’s shirt was never the one covered in grass stains. She was relentless against you and by the time you’d finished the full 90 minutes you always looked like you’d been through the wars.

The ball falls to your feet for the third time in the last 15 minutes, you try desperately to dribble it around Millie but she was so much stronger and more athletic than you so you could barely more a few steps without it leaving your possession. You knew you were a good player, but she made you doubt yourself and that’s where you presumed the frustration originated. What made it worse was her smug looking smirk that she wore as she passed the ball up the pitch, turning back around and catching your eyeline. You hear Lucy shouting at you, her hard work getting it away from your goal ruined again as you just couldn’t get it by the force of Millie Bright.

The ball gets kicked out and you’re practising your teams corner kicks now, working on your positioning in the box, waiting for Greenwood to release the ball. You’re slightly leant over, trying to take up as much of the offensive line as you could. A strong hand fell against your back, the finger span reaching almost over half of your waist. You knew it was Millie even without looking. You pushed back into her, a groan leaving your lips as she holds her ground, and you swear you could hear a laugh as she can see you get more and more wound up by her behaviour.

Greenwood finally whips the ball in your direction, you go to jump for it but as your feet leave the ground, Millie shoves into you with her shoulder making you lose your balance in the air and you slam against the floor, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you grasp your ankle in pain. Millie offers you a hand, but you’d reached your limit of Bright today, batting her hand away and jumping up in response. You feel your anger bubble out of you, bravely getting in her face and shoving her hard. She looks taken aback by you as she stumbles backwards but it was no way strong enough to actually push her over, you don’t think you’d ever seen anyone successfully shove her to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Millie growled; you could hear the anger in her voice as she gets equally up in your face. However, she towers over you, she had a good extra 6 inches of height against you but you don’t see yourself backing down.

“What was what? I’m just throwing my weight around like you have to me this entire fucking game.” The anger was rising uncontrollably now, both of you in a stand-off against each other, both of your cheeks glowing red.

“God, Don’t be so fucking precious.” There was a suspicious smirk plastered across her face as her dark glaze caught you off guard. You were convinced you hated her, but now you weren’t so sure as you felt a gulp choke you in the back of your throat at her words.

“Oh fuck off Millie you’re doing my fucking head in.” The words left your mouth, and it was too late to take it back. By this point the rest of the team had noticed what was going on, all of them just watching as you stood in each other’s faces. It all got too much in your head and you started to walk away from her, but you were stopped by a strong grip on your arm spinning you straight back into it.

“No what is your fucking problem?” She demanded an answer, giving you a quick effortless shove and you could feel your body begin to burn as you stumble backwards, the combination of absolute rage but now also the confused arousal at her physical dominance over you. Your fists clenched and before you knew it, you’d been grabbed by someone, guiding you away for the situation, gripping hold of your shoulders. You could barely think straight, completely embarrassed of the altercation that you’d started, but she just made you so angry you couldn’t help it.

Lucy continued to guide you off the pitch, throwing her hand up to Sarina who just looked sick and tired of the team drama that always unfolded at training camp. As soon as you reached the tunnel you felt your anger build and build again.

“What on earth do you think you were doing, why start something with Bright when you’re that short.” Lucy joked, but also wanting you to answer her question. She was easily your favourite person in the group, despite you and her being the youngest and oldest in the starting XI.

“She just winds me up Luce, that fucking smugness on the pitch it’s so exhausting playing against her.” You admit, stopping in the middle of the tunnel as you knew Lucy had to make it back to training while you calmed down.

“I bet it winds you up, what all that dominance.”

“Not like that, fucking hell get your mind out of the gutter Bronzey.” You were even beginning to get agitated with her now. She shrugs in response to you, knowing in her head that she was right, but she didn’t want to be on the wrong side of you either.

“All I’m gonna say is you wanna sort this out.” She advised truthfully, “The one person you don’t want to start a physical rivalry with is Millie Bright, especially when she is twice the fucking size of you shorty.” With that she patted your back and ran back onto the pitch. You were seeing red at this point, storming off and finding your way back to your room to sort the mess in your head out once and for all.

-

You were sat in your room about an hour later and your brain hadn’t stopped spinning since you were dragged off the pitch. You never shared a room at camp, thanking yourself as you laid back on the bed, finally feeling some level of calm. Still, you kept switching your phone on and off, flicking onto millies contact number before talking yourself out of it. You don’t know why you felt the need to apologise, but something Lucy had said had found its way deep into your brain and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. Yet as soon as the guilt washed over, you were back to being reminded how she had done everything she could to push you over the edge and the frustration bubbled back up.

You didn’t remember when you’d typed her username into Instagram, but you’d found yourself shamelessly stalking the older woman. You were observing her form, her muscular frame and the tattoo sleeve that covered up her biceps. You continued scrolling and you came across a certain picture of her in a white polo, the angle of the photo from below and it sent you into overdrive. Your mouth was ajar, and you finally let the feelings of arousal pool between your legs, your thighs subconsciously squeezing together.

You were barely in control of yourself as you reached your hand into your joggers, lifting up the waistband but before you could even do anything there was a knock at your door and you jumped out of your skin, removing your hand quickly and getting up.

You rearranged your hair, unlocking the latch and opening up the door. You were greeted with Millie, still in her kit, her Captain’s armband clasping around her muscular arms, her hair up in her signature bun, hair spilling out over the sides. She was still sweating, and you presumed she’d come straight from training.

“Millie what are you doing here?” You ask, your eyes rolling, and she was already scoffing at your reaction.

“I need an answer to my question, what’s your fucking problem with me?” She stepped into your room, and you felt your back hit the wall as she towered over you. That same Millie smirk was glaring right through you.

“Oh, shut up Bright, how can you be bothered to come here to start this again.” There was a deep annoyance to your tone. You were embarrassed that you’d let yourself believe she was turning you on, you nearly touched yourself thinking about her and now you were just writhing in anger all over again.

“I want to know what I’ve done that’s wound your pretty little head up so much.” Your breath hitched at her words, and she could see how much she was messing with your emotions. You ignored your arousal at her interruption, beginning to get angry as you felt her dominance intimidating you.

“What? So, you can keep doing it?” You couldn’t help but gaze down her frame, her wide stance doubling over you.

“God do you really think that bad of me?” You felt as though she was mocking you, you couldn’t tell, Millie was so difficult to read. You couldn’t tell what her intentions even were for barging into your room like this. Her words were having a huge effect on you, but you couldn’t tell whether this was what she wanted, turning you into a desperate mess.

“You know what Millie, yes, I do, you fucking strut around on the pitch throwing your weight around. You’ve barely said anything to me since I joined, and I’m convinced that this nice girl persona is all just a-” She forces her lips against yours and you swear you could see stars as she steps into your space, backing you fully against the wall, her hand cradling your back.

You couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but you kissed her back, fighting for dominance against her mouth but losing it quickly. She was never going to give into you, she had her own plan for the evening, and it didn’t involve fighting you for control.

She pulls back, smiling at your flushed red cheeks. Her fingers tuck the strand of hair behind your ear, dragging the tips down your neck, nails grazing against your skin.

“Well, I’ve worked out how to get you to shut up now haven’t I” She grimaced down at you, her dominance announced itself to the entire room. You could barely string a sentence together, your emotions running through your head, too many to keep track.

“Millie, I- “

“I think that’s what’s been going on hm?” She finished her sentence hovering over your neck, latching onto your skin and making her mark against you.

“What?” You ask innocently, your head hitting against the wall as you felt her teeth dig into your neck, a small moan exiting your lips and her grip against your back tightened.

“You need me to fuck all this stupid talk out of you.” Her words came naturally to her, and you couldn’t even bare to admit to yourself how wet it was making you. The only thing you can do is nod at her comment, reaching for the back of her neck and pulling her close to you again. You needed her lips against yours, the burning heat between you growing as she slid her tongue against your lips pleading for entrance into your mouth.

You allowed it, her tongue swiping against yours. She gripped your thighs, making sure to squeeze your ass before lifting you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around her waist. This was effortless for her, slamming your back against the wall again making you gasp into her mouth. She used this moment to take your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it back before letting it go again, inciting a string of breathy moans of excitement as she held you tightly.

She moved you from the wall, not once breaking your forceful, desperate kisses. You felt her grip let you go, and you fell against the bed right next to your unlocked phone that was still on Millie’s Instagram. She smirked as she looked at you unaware that she had already seen what you were looking at before she arrived.

“What’s this babe?” She questioned with fake curiosity; she knew exactly what you were doing with the picture that it was frozen on. She picked up your phone, kneeling next to your horizontal body, waving the screen in front of your face. Your face must have been a deep red colour, the blood rushing to your head and you didn’t even know what you could say to hide what you’d really thought about doing when you saw that picture. “Tell me what you were doing with this picture of me.”

“Nothing, I was just looking.” She didn’t believe you, the shaky delivery of your lie not helping disguise your shame. Millie runs her fingers over your shirt until she reaches your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and thumb, pinching lightly through your shirt.

“Tell me the truth or you’re going to regret it.” Her words were serious, but you were lost in the way your shirt was being shifted up your body, your bare breasts reacting to the cool breeze that was drafting through the room. She swaps her hand for her mouth, flicking her tongue harshly against the hardening nub.

“I wasn’t doing anything I swear.” You lied again but you couldn’t stop the aching arousal that was growing inside of you as she moved to focus on your left nipple, taking it completely into her mouth. A little sweet moan slipped from you lips as she starts sucking and licking it in a strong, relentless rhythm. Her strokes worked harder, her tongue now lashing across your sensitive nipple, her nails digging into the sides of the other.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, not when I have you moaning like this already.” With no warning, she bit her teeth down hard against your left nipple, you yelped in pain, and you knew she wasn’t going to stop until you admitted what you’d done.

“Fuck Millie fine I was going to touch myself while looking at you.” The words fell desperately from your lips, and she soothed your sensitive chest by flattening her tongue over your nipple, her saliva cooling the searing pain she’d caused a few seconds ago.

“That’s better babe, you’re learning already.” Her words were making you weak as she reaches her arm underneath your back, cradling you in her arms as she toyed with you, teasing you, working you up until you were trembling. She was placing kisses up your chest, only touching you with her fingertip, her nails leaving a tingle wherever she touches. These gentle touches just letting you know that what you had admitted was turning her on.

“Millie please just do something.” You whimper in suspense, looking up at the blonde who was domineeringly leaning over your body, her hands roaming every part of you. She untied your jogger strings, slipping them down off your legs and you watch as her cheeks flush red at the sight of your black lace lingerie.

“Mm, these are pretty baby girl, did you put these on for me?” Her tone was getting harsher, her grip on your skin getting rougher and you could feel her lust behind her fingertips. You nod and she smiles against your thigh, her hands could fit around the width of your leg and there was something incredibly seductive about the way she was spreading them open, licking her lips in anticipation. “Let’s get these off now though.” By the time her sentence was finished she had your underwear halfway off you, her movements becoming rushed and desperate herself, but she could hold herself together and she was planning on doing so.

You feel the cold air of the room hit your bare skin, the warmth of her hands not going to where you needed her the most and she knew it. She could see the desperation behind your eyes, but she wasn’t going to just give it to you. Millie had you completely naked and you suddenly became aware of her being fully dressed, now kneeling in-between your legs. You had been so distracted by her touches and teasing that this was the first time you were really watching her. The way her blonde hair was messily sat on top of her head, her captain’s armband still gripping her muscles. You were desperate to see what was underneath, but there was something so alluring about her fucking you in that kit.

She grips your head, pulling you in to an upright position, kissing your forcefully as you are readjusted to fit where she wanted you to be. “You are so fucking gorgeous, look at the way your nipples are just permanently hard when you look at me.” She teases, pinching the left with force and making you moan into her mouth. “I want you to watch yourself.”

You felt your breath leave your lungs at her words, she moved out from between your legs, fingers under your chin as she moved your gaze to the mirror that was on the wall opposite the bed. You had a perfect view of yourself, sat legs spread, dark marks all the way up your body. You watch as Millie moves to sit behind you, letting you fall back into her arms. “You are going to watch as I touch you.” It was an order and you felt yourself get all shy, hiding your face in her arm as you twist and squirm, your face bright red with embarrassment.

“I said watch. I mean it baby don’t make me angry again.” Her voice was harsh, the combination of praise and dominance doubling the arousal between your legs. Her captaincy coming out of her as she forces you back into position. She hooks her legs over yours, forcing your legs to stay wide open. You catch your own gaze back at you, watching as Millie’s hands roamed your chest again, pinching at your nipples and watching you in the mirror as your head flung back and you gasped against her neck.

Your legs were spread wide open and every time you looked forward you could see her eyes burning on you, watching as she brought her hand down to your inner thigh, tracing small circles and itching up higher and higher until she was so damn close but still not giving into you. You were entranced by the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, her tongue was on her own lips again and it was a look that you couldn’t ever recover from.

“Please Millie, I need you, I just want you to fuck me.” The urgency was clear from your voice, but she just laughs at your desperation, continuing her small circles around your thighs. “Millie please.”

She pulls your hair back hard and the gasp that came from your lips was completely involuntary. “Stop being a fucking whore, you will get what I give you.” She spat, her voice turning to a growl as she lets your hair go, her hand cupping your heat, not giving you any pressure, and not letting you grind yourself against her. “Talking of whores, you’ve made a fucking mess of yourself, haven’t you?” Her grin was so intimidating as she felt your wetness against her hand, you were a whining mess against her palm, and she was loving it.

“Millie-” You were cut off again, the same hand moving up to cover your mouth and you groan against it, hips thrusting against nothing but the air in the room, desperate for some sort of contact.

“You’re pushing your luck sweetheart.” Millie whispers, her other hand moving around your throat, cutting off your oxygen completely. She had a tight grip around your marked neck as you twist in attempt to remove yourself from her hold. You give in and she lets go of you, trailing her hands back down your body as you catch your breath. You watch everything she does to you, observing the smirk that she made in reaction to your noises when she got closer to where you needed her before moving them back up your body. She was driving you crazy on purpose, punishing you for making her so angry a few hours earlier.

“Would you like me to touch you baby?” You nod, not speaking or begging, doing everything she asked of you. The power she held over you as she had you vulnerable and trembling between her legs. “There’s a good girl.” She praises and you watch as her hand found its way back down to your aching pussy, dragging her finger through your folds, swiping gently through the wetness that she found between your legs. She brings her hand up to her mouth, making direct eye contact with your reflection as she tastes you. You moan just from watching her and your hips buck upwards involuntarily just trying to contact something as she wound you into a frustrated arousal.

She teases your entrance, pushing just the tip of her finger inside of you and you feel your head fall back to rest on her shoulder. The pleasure making it difficult for you to keep your head held. “No baby, watch as I enter you.” You do as she says, knowing you wouldn’t get what you wanted without it. Your lips pressed together as you watch her finger move fully inside of you, pumping her arm, her muscles flexing as she starts to thrust her wrist.

“Fuck Millie, I need more, please.” You beg accidentally, but she turns a blind eye, giving you what you want. She adds a second finger and your eyes slam shut, focusing on the feeling of Millies fingers curling upwards and hitting your spot every time she entered you. As soon as your eyes shut you felt her movements still, her fingers buried inside of you but not moving. You whine and when your eyes open and catch her gaze in the mirror she continues. You understood the rules and Millie was definitely going to stick to them.

“Good girls get what they want baby, so I suggest you keep looking at yourself while I fuck you if you want this to end nicely.” The words came out her mouth so casually, but it sounded so goddamn attractive, the eye contact in the mirror making it so much more intense as you watch your pussy stretch around her fingers.

“My clit, please touch me.” The frustration was building up and you could barely hear yourself speak, your mind foggy at the sight of Millie fingering you.

“God you’re a needy girl aren’t you.” She smirked, shifting her hand so she could rub small circles around your clit with her thumb and you gasped in pleasure as the built-up pressure inside of you was released. She was getting you closer and closer, the little groans she kept making in your ear combined with her little nips against your neck all adding to your building orgasm. “Look at yourself baby, look how hot you look taking my fingers.”

You could feel your legs beginning to shake, your moans growing louder as she applied a stronger pressure to your swollen clit, thrusting her fingers quicker. You were so close, and she stopped, removing her hand from you, letting you come all the way back down. You look at her with confusion, turning your head to look at her properly.

“That’s what you get for being so whiny baby girl.” You whine in response, fittingly of course. Squirming around, trying to shut your legs to gain some sort of contact but Millie’s legs were pinning them apart, not letting you get your own way. She started her teasing again and you thought your body was going to collapse at the lack of contact she was making with your body again.

“Millie, you’re driving me crazy, please just fuck me again, make me cum for you.” You felt pathetic and desperate, her small smile making you realise this was exactly how she wanted you to feel. The kisses on your neck changed when she sunk her teeth into your skin, making you cry out.

“Stop fucking begging.” Her sentences were getting shorter, her patience running dry with you. You wanted to rile her up to, there was a sense of curiosity about her growing anger and how her face was growing redder as you fought back against her dominance.

When her hand reached to your entrance again, you felt your bratty side begin to shine through. She pushed two fingers inside of you again and after a few thrusts you decided to wind her up even more. You were watching her in awe as she worshipped your body. “Fuck me harder, please I need you to fuck me properly.”

That was the last thing you remembered saying, your bratty side being broken down as she pushed you down onto the bed, switching her position so she was straddled on top of you, your arms pinned down next to your head. “You’re feeling brave hm?” She asked, you felt way more intimidated as you were forced to look at her face rather than the reflection of her behind you. You nodded your head, using up the last ounce of your bratty side. She grabs your chin, forcing your head up as she leans over making sure the only thing you could see was her face.

“You wanna be fucked like my little slut?” She growled, you nod, and she wasn’t having your silent responses anymore. She chokes you, harder than before, your head going fuzzy for a second. “You better fucking answer me, or I’ll leave you here, pathetically trembling for me.”

“Yes Millie, fuck me please.” This was all you could come up with in the heat of the moment and when she laughed at your response you knew you weren’t getting away so easily.

“Tell me what you are then.” Her patronising tone and strong grip around your throat making you squirm but her legs straddled your stomach, keeping you pinned down against the mattress.

“Your little slut.” You whisper, your voice being taken away with how nervous you were in her presence. Seeing Millie so in charge of you was a normal occurrence on the pitch, but your pleasure being in her hands was something that made you so vulnerable but so desperate for her.

“And trust me, you’ll know it.” She kisses you with such force you could barely think straight, her hand still remaining around your throat, her teeth biting down on your lip, everything about this was rough and dirty. She continues to mark your neck and you were moaning in desperation, every bite she made you knew would leave a souvenir of this night, being able to see every mark that she makes on you. You felt your core ache and each mark she made down your neck and on your chest was making you whine, and you could feel each time you pushed her buttons as her teeth sunk in harder, sucking your skin with the intention of making you feel it for hours afterwards.

“You need to stop fucking whining.” Millie sits up, her fully dressed form starting to drive you mental with curiosity of wanting to see what her clothes was underneath. She reached for her Captains armband, sliding it quickly off her arm and shoving it into your mouth. “That should keep you quiet for me.”

You couldn’t believe the position you were in, underneath your captain with her armband gagging you, stopping you from moaning when she touches you. She places your hands above your head, her eyebrow raises telling you to keep them there. Millie pulls her t-shirt off, your eyes widening at the sight of what you’d imagined a few seconds ago, her toned stomach glistening in the hotel room light. “I want you over my lap.”

You moaned into the armband, the thought of being leant over her lap making you shake with anticipation. Before you could react, she was sat on the edge of the bed, her hand in your hair pulling you onto all fours, your stomach falling flush against her closed thighs.

Without a warning you felt two fingers being pushed into you, a quick relentless pace not allowing you to get used to the stretch needed to fit around her. You were moaning unashamedly against your gag, gasping as her flat handed palm hit your ass with a sting. She kept this going until you were a trembling mess over her lap. Each spank was met with her fingers curling harshly against your g-spot, her own groans making you dizzy as she worked hard to roughly thrust her fingers in and out of your cunt. “If only everyone could see you now.” She hummed, your pants getting more laboured as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. “Bent over my lap with my armband stopping those pathetic little noises that you’re making for me.”

You felt yourself getting closer and when her arm snaked around your body to find your throbbing clit, she barely drew three circles against it and you were crying out against the armband every time you felt her fingers slam against your sweet spot. Your thighs were shaking, and your nails were gripping into her thighs as you felt your inevitable orgasm building. With one more spank you feel your core collapse with blinding pleasure and your orgasm burns through your body, your hips jolting uncontrollably as she fucks you through it.

You were so sensitive, but Millie was still thrusting her fingers into you, adding a third finger and your muffled moans spurring her to continue fucking you, her pace getting quicker as your thighs never stopped shaking. She was not in the mood to let you have any say in how she was taking you, the addition of her third finger stretching you out more than before. Her endless circles against your clit were getting stronger as you desperately winced through the overstimulation. “Come on, give me another, I know you can do it for me.” The mix of praise as you were degraded over her lap did it for you, the last orgasm still fluttering through you as the next one came out of nowhere.

Her harsh thrusts and small circles sent you into a state of shock, this orgasm lasting twice as long as the last and your hips now pushing back against Millies fingers. “Oh baby,” She sighed, removing her fingers, your body rigid over her lap. She tugs on your hair again, forcing you up onto your knees, your legs barely able to hold your own weight up. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” She said, gesturing towards her hand dripping in your arousal. You watch as she takes a finger and places it against her tongue, sucking up every last drop. Her eyes were dark with lust as her eyes trailed down your naked body that was kneeling to the side of her, the florescent green armband the only item of clothing in sight between your teeth.

“I think this will shut you up on the pitch now hm?” She questioned, squeezing your cheeks, and taking the armband out of your mouth, the drenched fabric being thrown to the side. “Each time you see me wearing this you’ll be imagining yourself bent over my lap.” With the gag out of your mouth, your groans and gasps sounded more intense than before, and you could see the lust behind Millies eyes. With your noises now at full strength, each moan was creating a pool between her own thighs, but she was too focused on you to even notice it.  

“Come lie right here, legs spread.” She demanded, pointing to her face as she lied back on the bed. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; you thought you were done. The throbbing sensitivity between your legs signalling that you couldn’t take any more and while the thought of riding Millie’s face was driving you crazy you didn’t think you had it in you to go again. “What’s wrong? You wanted to be fucked like my little slut so you’re going to do as you’re told and come and straddle my face. Now.”

Within seconds you found your knees spread, planted on the mattress, one on either side of her face. Her hands were holding your waist tightly, her strength keeping you stuck in place, disallowing your hips from grinding against her tongue. You were moaning into the mattress as her tongue explored your folds, swirling it around your oversensitive clit. Each time you felt the push of her tongue against your bundle of nerves you were met with a pleasurable shock that was sent right through your body. Her hands were gripping the back of your thighs before her fingers crawled towards your well fucked pussy, deciding she wasn’t finished with you just yet.

With the immediate push of three fingers into your entrance you moaned loudly, you felt your hips being lifted, allowing her to speak against your pussy. “That’s its baby, moan for me, make those pretty noises now you can. This is the only way I want to hear my name on your lips.” You gasp as her tongue instantly reconnects with your clit, swirling those same excruciating circles that were drawing your third orgasm closer.

You couldn’t control the sinful noises that were escaping your open mouth. You were being railed over Millie’s face and her thrusts were still getting stronger. Her stamina was unsurprisingly relentless, her muscular build finally being of somewhat use to you.

“Fuck Mils I’m so close.” You pant, moans interrupting your words, with her movements speeding up a fraction you took this as permission, but you couldn’t stop it either way. The orgasm that came made your knees buckle, your body unable to hold itself over Millies’s mouth, your thighs squeezing her head into place against your clit. Her tongue flicked back and forth over your nub as you rode out your orgasm, her hands no longer keeping your hips in place as you grind against her mouth. Her name, as predicted, was tumbling out of your mouth as the overwhelming waves of your prolonged orgasm continued to ripple through you. You could feel her moans vibrating through your body as you rode it out, this one was mind-blowing and your brain felt frozen in this moment for way longer than the last, which you didn’t believe was possible.

Millie was still smiling when you finally gained the strength to remove yourself from her face, you were aided by Millie’s grip that was helping you move your body down to match how she was laying. You were snuggled in her arms now and this felt strangely right as your head was hidden in the crease of her neck.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson now.” She grinned, her fingers running through your sweat drenched hair.

“If anything, I’ll be shoving you more.” This gained you a swift slap to your ass and you wince immediately, your skin still sensitive from when she had you bent over her lap. This gave you the confidence you needed, you were desperate to touch her and you had been since she kissed you in the doorway. You reached your hand down the waistband of her shorts that she was still wearing, and Millie looked at you with surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She protested with her tone of voice but the way her hips rose to meet your hand was anything but resistance. It was your turn to smirk now as it seemed that Millie seemingly didn’t know you well enough to know that you’d want so desperately to return the favour.

“I want to show you that your little slut can do more than making pretty noises.”  

(hope everyone is ready for a part 2)

[zvezdacito]

A Different Perspective on the Raverne -> Crowley theories, who to trust and a way of tying it to the themes of the story

Preface: This isn't really gonna be a super serious compilation of solid proof, symbolism or anything, more like just me yapping abt something I happened to randomly think of yesterday and thought "it would actually be kinda interesting from a writing standpoint if this is the thing they go for instead of what everyone was expecting". Kind of long but I promise it will be at least interesting AU material if anything so just bear with me lmao

Ok so basically so far the general trajectory of theories is something bad happened to Raverne while he was missing that made him into Crowley who is doing some kind of evil scheming that will disregard the safety of his family and students sooner or later. Generally Raverne is the good self while Crowley is the fucked up self, and it would probably be better if Raverne was here instead of him

But what if it's actually more like the other way around. That Raverne is the one we should be looking out for, and Crowley is the trustworthy version of him this entire time?

What if everything Raverne went through made it inevitable for him to snap and be vengeful and do evil shit so Crowley is basically his sane self's last ditch effort to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone and ruin people's lives, basically using the goofy Crowley personality to suppress and forget the vengeful Raverne personality

Like the "Raverne's soul got fractured and split into pieces and the pieces that remember his past are sealed away" theories, but instead of usual reasons it's him who sealed them away ironically to remain as true to his original self as possible, than if it remained and he turned into someone violent and hateful against his own principles.

I feel like it would be even more of a twist since they keep emphasizing how kind and peaceful Raverne is so I don't think neither Meleanor, Lilia nor the audience would expect the OG Raverne described that way to actually turn out cruel and untrustworthy who the seemingly suspicious and cowardly Crowley was actually trying to manage the whole time

Also it would kind of be more straightforward as to why he would choose to forget Lilia and Malleus than if Crowley was fucked up Raverne and forgot them even though his goal would be to revive Meleanor and his old life with them anyway

It's hard to tell right now but Crowley despite his goofiness doesn't really seem to harbor any malice against anyone, nor would he be the type to seriously blood sacrifice any of his students, even if he does abandon them sometimes. In this new context maybe it would even make sense if he abandons them so the subconcious Raverne doesn't try to find opportunity to break out/cause trouble through blot and magic related situations?

So yeah it would be cool if it turned out Crowley was the "good" version of Raverne all along, and Raverne overtly and subtextually is just trying to gaslight the audience into distrusting Crowley so they can set a chain reaction of events going to unseal him so he can do whatever he wants to

Also Crowley probably knows he has to keep Raverne locked away no matter what but also doesn't dare try to remember what Raverne remembers because that would go against the whole point of keeping Raverne locked away in the first place. His memory of his past is just puzzle pieces w/o the bigger picture. He has to be atleast partially aware that he has to not give in to the voice in the back of his mind for the sake of others

Like he knows he had to leave behind a family behind and forget them so he would not hurt them, but he doesn't exactly remember who anymore which is why he isn't really flinching or anything when around Malleus and Lilia at NRC

Though I feel like him suppressing Raverne lowkey also took a toll on his mental state. So they actual conclusion would for him to basically symbolically stop suppressing his trauma in an attempt to be a perfect victim because it's not working either way and the only way for Raverne to rest in peace is if he finds closure. Whatever that may be.

Maybe if Yuu and co. find out they encourage him to do this to his surprise basically saying "Don't worry headmage we'll beat the shit out of evil Raverne for you if he goes out of control (you are so annoying so we've always wanted to do this)"

The reveal and Crowley needing to stop supressing Raverne in his subconcious to let him process what he should have would make sense, since it would also tie in to the overarching theme around the overblots:

That even though they're ugly and hurtful manifestations of trauma they need to play out so the OBer can finally grow as a person instead of bottling it all up and being in denial

And also so they can finally come to terms with something that happened to them even if they can't change it

^ Accidentally sort of also combined this with the "Crowley's mask is hiding the fact that he's in a paused state of overblot that he just managed to sorta control" theory. Maybe overblot is what he had to stop Raverne from devolving into in the first place

↑ This ties back to my HC for Raverne's personality being a natural coward and not as battle-oriented but tries to be strong, as he sees Meleanor and Lilia to be as well as making the most out of the skills the does have (using cowardice and sensitivity to be a master diplomat and educator instead) so he can feel like he has the right to continue to stand by their side. Maybe he didn't even care much for being considered kind until that's what Mel and Lilia saw his actions as instead of weak or foolish, that being what made him want to work on that newly defining trait of his now

Lilia at one point mentions that even tho Raverne tries to perform honor student he could be as picky of an eater as Meleanor was and Lilia would have to eat his spare food too

Adding to the possibility Raverne was always the type to make twice an effort to be 'kind' and strong to compensate for his nature that he sees as inherently lacking. This is also probably why he'd be super harsh on himself as Crowley

Oomf also suggested that this may add a layer to why his catchphrase ended up being "For I'm so gracious". As if to remind himself to keep up the effort to be such because he fears his natural state is one that isn't, as well as him encouraging himself to always be forgiving so Raverne doesn't gain the upper hand from his subconcious

↑ Ok so I don't have the brainpower to paraphrase this too so I'll just copy paste what I talked to another oomf about here because it's also interesting

That's pretty much it, hope the general idea and effect was conveyed properly🔥🔥🔥 I don't think the exact details need to be followed since it probably has a bunch of holes itself, but the general gist of Crowley being the more positive side of Raverne instead of the expected inverse all along + it making more sense as to why Raverne would be motivated to forget + tying into the themes of overblotting and trauma would be interesting I think. Kind of a clever misdirection. All of this is not super substantiated though since even now we barely know anything about either Raverne or Crowley, so really only time will tell. Personally kinda got attached to this direction for Crowley's character so I hope they go with something adjacent to the heart fo it at least

The other option is he's not Raverne at all and we're racking our brains over this for no reason lmao

[strwbrrymnstrenrgy]

unorganized thoughts that i may turn into fics

✦konig meine frau✦

this man is a certified freak. like 7 days a week. i stand by the fact that it's always the quiet ones. most ppl look at him and are like 'aww subby inexperienced baby boy' (and usually so do i) but versatility yk. anyways i feel like he actually has a really long tongue, 👀 if yk what i mean. and loves edging, just not on himself because it frustrates him. anyways, back to the original plot of this post, i think he almost likes receiving as much as giving but emphasis on that almost.

he's a clit sucker, sorry not sorry to say it. and loves holding your hips against the bed so you can't squirm. one of my personal hc's is that he can play the piano really good and you know what they say about piano players........

overall he's just perfect. and don't even get me started on aftercare with him cause WHEW CHILE

hes just so. so hot.

i think his favorite part of it though is foreplay. only cause he gets to learn about what your turn ons are and where you want him to touch you. also he just really likes teasing. when you do it to him though, he becomes whiney and impatient, which leads me to my next thing,

KONIG IS A SUB LEANING SWITCH

it's just really easy to get him to fall apart under your touch, like i mentioned in the dick headcanons, he's very sensitive.

he loves kissing, licking and just being all over you and you being fully receptive of it. this man would struggle so hard in public to not do that. he understands that it's not socially acceptable in public but he just can't help it<3 i love him.

oral fixation konig? oral fixation konig.

he has to have his mouth on something, or be doing something to be comfortable. so usually you'd just let him suck your fingers or something to distract him (he just like me fr)

mommy kink konig? hear me out.

like imagining this 6'10 guy who's probably twice my age moaning under me and calling me mommy is just so. mmmm yummy

┆☆ghosty my love☆┆

hmmm where do i even start. yk i feel like i have to preface this by saying i don't feel like ghost and myself would work out if we're talkin about his canon personality so it's hard to write for him without it being heavily ooc.

like he's just too nonchalant. like it's not chalanting for me. where tf is the chalance at.

but anyways, i feel like he's a trial and error yk yk.

like when you're someone like ghost, pussy eating isn't gonna be the first thing on your mind.

so he'd have to practice on you. (that's a great fic idea right there) which ultimately leads to you not being able to walk the next morning but that's probably fine. ghost is so strong that he can probably just carry you anyways.

i feel like ghost would let out more emotion during sex. like he barely even blinks normally. but while he's in the reverse cowgirl position with you while everyone's asleep? expressive as hell.

over time, i feel like he knows your body better than you, when he's edging you, you don't even have to say anything for him to know you're about to cum.

he's very observant in that way.

i feel that ghost would be a hard dom. never a switch.

laughs a lot during sex. not like a full FYSUDUDIHFUGFUTDUYVHUJ type of laugh, just like a little chuckle and it's so attractive.

and and and! maybe it's a little muffled bc of his lips being pressed against your skin.

usually does that when he's like, deep in you and ofc you moan and grab at his hand that was right next to your head, cause he's just so overwhelming, but in a good way.

he def has to cum a few times to feel fully satisfied. pent up military man tings. but like remember when i said ghost has rlly thick cum. yeah. that.

always makes you feel so full. before, when he's shoving his thick fingers in you to prepare you for his cock, which is even bigger. during, when he's fucking his cum into you from the previous 3 rounds. and after, when you're still full from his cum as it drips down your thighs and you try to catch your breath.

he definitely loves making you horny on purpose, just to revel in how wet you are as if he has no idea what he does to you.

anyways part 2? cause i most definitely have more thoughts about this FINEEE man. (and konig, my wife, i didn't forget about her)

[osakiharu]

THEY FIND OUT YOU LIKE BEING PRAISED !!

[request]

content : gender neutral reader, fluff, this is sfw don’t get too excited y’all, independent!reader, reader is a uni student in draken’s, reader is independent but also quite self critical at times :(, rindou having blood all over his arms whoopsies, also me having rindou brainrot so i went a little crazy with his... i love him i can’t help it, 

word count : around 500-600 each <3 little scenarios for this one hehe

characters : draken, rindou 

notes : okay hi !! long time no see y’all, college is so so insane rn and m sorry for being so dead T^T this was actually a request but i have deleted it with my old requests in my inbox and i only kept the ones i moved to my drafts whoopsies </3 i hope this isn’t too bad and i hope i haven’t gotten rusty from not writing for a little but yeah have some rindou and draken as my apology <3 thankyou to dee for giving me a little help on this when i was brain dead mwah i luv u <3

˗ˏˋ DRAKEN

draken knew you always preferred to teach yourself things, to stick to your own way of studying, to not have anyone or anything interfere with your routine during exam season. he knows, without fail, you’ll always reject his proposal to help you, but eventually he finds there’s nothing he loves more than to see your cheeks redden at his praise for your work. even if you push him off and tell him to let you continue <3 

“why don’t you let me help, baby? wouldn’t you get it done faster?” he mumbled into your hair before reaching forwards to take your notes from you. “i don’t need help, kenny, ‘m fine! ‘s not about doing it fast, anyways.” of course you were. even if the bags under your eyes and very few hours sleep you had under your belt said otherwise. a kiss was pressed to your cheek before he sat himself down in the chair next to you, resting his head on his crossed arms as he looked up at you. draken decided not to push you for let him help. “how’d y’r exam t’day go? know you were dreadin’ that one.” it’s sweet, you think, the way his eyelids seem to be getting harder to hold open but he’s probably still thinking up a plan to work his way around your stubbornness to get you into bed at a reasonable time. 

“it was fine,” you put your notes down and turned to face him, “i finished with time to spare, too, so i don’t think i did that bad.” of course you did well. you always do, draken thought with a smile. “c’mere.” he nodded his head to the side, signalling for you to sit in his lap. his embrace was comforting, warm, too warm, even, for your tired state couldn’t help but relax into it like you’d been longing to all day. “gettin’ tired, angel?” draken could practically feel you melting into him as he rubbed up and down your back. “mhm… but i gotta finish up, kenny, c’mon.” your attempt at moving back to your original chair was futile as draken pulled you back down into a gentle kiss. 

“hmm… but my baby’s so smart, ain’t ya?” he spoke against your lips, and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks reddened at his comment. “don’t think you need t’do anymore when you’re already doing so good… think ya need to come to bed with me ‘n’ get some sleep, hm?” he could feel your smile against his cheek as he kissed anywhere he could without you shying away from him. draken almost chuckled at your actions. he’d always known you to be an independent person, dealing with everything yourself, and though he was no stranger to your stresses and anxieties, seeing you this flustered was rare to him. fuck, you’re so cute.

“what’s this all about, sweets?” he pinched your cheek between a pointer and thumb, “got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” draken’s grin is wide as you peer down into your lap. you know exactly what he wants you to say, to admit that all you want to hear right now is how good you’re doing, how clever you are, to have your hard work appreciated when you feel like it’s futile and a waste of time. though you shook your head as you met his eyes once again, “shut up.” draken hummed at your response, the chewing of your lip and the remains of your bashful smile gave him the wordless answer he wanted. “c’mon then, smart ass, y’re coming to bed with me,” he patted your thigh as a signal get up, “can’t have my clever little thing over workin’ yourself when you’ve got all those other exams to do, can i?”

˗ˏˋ RINDOU

if there was one thing rindou had learned about you it was that once you start something you want to finish it, and you want to finish it well. you want to finish it yourself, it doesn’t feel the same if someone helps you, you tell him. but he knows you’re only human, so when mikey comes and drops another tower of rindou’s paperwork on your desk when you’re already up to your neck in it and it’s almost two in the morning, it’s not hard for him to notice the cracks in your resilience

“what’re you still doin’ here?” you heard rindou mumble from the doorway of your office. blood covered his knuckles and fingers, under his rings, and trailed up to his forearms in spatters. his hair was tousled and messy, violet eyes sleepier than usual. from where he leaned, he looked frightening. beautiful, but frightning. “‘m finishing paperwork.” rindou raised a brow, almost confused, as he checked the clock. two in the morning? finishing paperwork? you must’ve gone mad; it looked like you’d barely started with the piles mikey had dropped on your desk. “that’s your work, is it?” he spoke from the front of your desk. “hm? oh, no, it’s yours,” you held up the sheet you’d been writing, “i already finished my work, but mikey just asked me to get a bit of yours done while you were gone… didn’t have to do all of it but i may as well since i’ve started it.” sleepy was the smile that rested on your face. so pretty, he thought.

rindou sighed in response to your commitment and strolled over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and giving your cheek a quick kiss. “y’know you don’t wanna do all that, baby, c’mon,” kiss, “y’half asleep anyways, let me deal with it tomorrow, kay? need t’rest that pretty head of yours now.” you sighed and slumped backwards into your chair. it’s just work, it’s not even yours, you thought to yourself. you just couldn’t stand having to hand over the responsibility of doing all that work to someone else. you knew that feeling was silly, though, you just couldn’t help it sometimes. the man behind you could already guess the response travelling up your throat, ready to be mumbled out in defeat. rindou pulled away and beckoned you with a finger to stand up, “why don’t you try thinkin’ of the stuff you've already done, hm? come here ‘n’ tell me about it, sweets.” you always appreciated rindou’s attempts at comforting you, despite him never being one to comfort people, only one to help them forget about their current issue. 

you followed him to the couch in your office and laid your tired head in his lap, strong thighs like pillows to you. and although you mostly spoke through a yawn, you told him about the work you did that day. “mhm, good job, baby.” a thumb stroked your cheek before he pulled you up for a quick kiss or two by your jaw. your smile, shy and a little toothy, was felt against his lips as your cheeks reddened under his touch. “such a good little angel f’me, aren’t you? doin’ my work when you don’t need to.” he took note of how warm your cheeks were on the tips of his fingers and pulled away from your face so you could hide your timidity no longer. 

rindou had always had an inkling, even before you were dating, that you enjoyed hearing things like that; having your work appreciated and acknowledged, feeling supported for once. your silly attempts at hiding your smile that never worked. he could tell you’d always been independent, enjoyed being independent, though he also knew that sometimes you wanted to take a break or to not do everything by yourself, to let someone hold your hand for a while. “i didn’t know you could be so shy, i thought you would’a told me to shut up by now.” you looked up at his stupid smirk, knowing he wanted to hear it from you. playful arguing was futile option as any attempt made was to refute rindou’s statement was a failed one. it was worth a shot. you placed your head back on his thighs and your smile said it all, “you like it when i tell you those things don’t you? it’s what you deserve to hear.” 

your grin hadn’t faltered, a sigh passing your lips. “mhm... yeah.” 

rindou knew he was going to tease you about this forever now. he also knew that you’d deny everything every single time <3

reblogs appreciated <33

[ariaste]

Okay, I have to share this story because it was a hilarious experience, I'm not sure if the ask box will let me get through it in one message, bear with me.

So I'm scrolling through IWTV fanfiction on AO3, reading some of the more recent fics, and I find one fic that I really love. They've really got the Daniel tone and essence down, I'm laughing to myself on the couch. I decide to wait and read the fic out loud with my partner because when a fanfic is really good we like to share it. While I'm waiting for my partner to get back from canning peaches, I check the author's profile briefly and I'm like 'oh shit they write for The Untamed,' which is cool, that was our last fandom that we were super into.

My partner gets home-- I excitedly tell them that I've found a new fic for us to read and they'd better buckle in because it's got a hell of a vibe and they're not even ready. My partner is like 'oh hell yeah' and gets out their crochet project. (we're in our mid twenties I don't know why this particular day makes us sound like we're in our eighties)

Anyways, I tell them that the author also does MDZS content so we can check that out after our IWTV fic and then we start reading the story and it's very good-- they have to hold up a hand to make me stop reading because they're cry-laughing, and all is well. And then suddenly I go.... wait. Wait, hang on. Hang on, I have to check this person's profile. This is a little too familiar.

And my partner says "Wait. Is this the MDZS writer-" and I say "I don't know I'm checking, hang on" and then I look up and we make eye contact and I'm like "oh my god babe it's the Meng Yao writer."

Essential Background: Meng Yao is my favourite MDZS character and it's hard to find good fics for him. A couple of years ago, my partner was reading the HOA fic and gushing about it, I was insisting that 'an act too often neglected' was simply the best MDZS fic that could ever be written, and we were absolutely shocked to discover they had an author in common, and then a while later there was ANOTHER fic I started reading out loud to my partner because it was That Good and it turned out to ALSO be the same author, so we just started calling them 'The Meng Yao writer' aka the only person we trust to write him.

Basically what I'm saying is that whenever either of us reads anything you've written, it's so goddamn good that we end up sharing it with each other and not realizing that it's the Same Author every time. So. I'm buying one of your books for my partner's next birthday I guess because you're clearly just That Good. Thank you for the multiple years of enjoyable fics and the consistent joy you're bringing to our household. Also I want to eat up your Daniel Molloy characterization with a knife and fork. Thank you.

This is the most delightful ask that it is possible to get. I am giggling and kicking my feet and grinning ear to ear. This is so sweet.

This is also so fucking funny to me. "The Meng Yao writer" ahhh my legacy. The arguing over which fic is better until the moment you realize they're both mine. The way you keep finding my fics and independently discovering every time that they're Finally Some Good Fucking Food without having learned my AO3 name at some point during that process until the third or fourth time i have jumpscared you with it dfghjkkdfghjkfghj Ariaste/Alexandra Rowland is everywhere, they're in your walls, they're currently standing right behind you actually ghjklwwghjwkl;

BLESS YOU AND YOUR PARTNER, your relationship sounds honestly ideal. I hope you keep reading fics and crocheting together forever.

Also very flattered that you're taking a swing with my original works! Thank you!! They are all set in the same world but they're usually (so far) about different characters, so as you read more of them you're going to start catching some fun cross-references between them. My thirteenth book comes out next month, so here's some good places to start based on the fics you've pointed out that you've particularly liked:

if you want more laughing-until-you-are-crying-and-have-to-stop-because-you-genuinely-cannot-breathe content (a la "different for vampires", HOAverse (Meng Yao and the Board of the Homeowners Association), or any of my other high comedic fics), start with RUNNING CLOSE TO THE WIND. It's about queer pirates accidentally stealing and trying to find a buyer for the most valuable secret in the world, and standing up against institutional hegemony. Also horny sea serpents. Also a plot-relevant cake competition. If you cried laughing at any of my fics in the past, you are not prepared for what I'm about to do to you here.

if you are enjoying the Snarky Old Man content that is Daniel Molloy and his disquisitions on the nature of storytelling and truth-seeking in "different for vampires", go for A CONSPIRACY OF TRUTHS, which has more of both of those things. It's about an elderly wandering storyteller who has been imprisoned on charges of witchcraft, treason, and brazen impertinence, and the stories he tells to rescue himself from the situation. And the corrupt government he accidentally knocks over along the way, whoops

If you liked the yearning, sweeping romance of the main pairing in "an act too often neglected", try A TASTE OF GOLD AND IRON, which is about an Exquisitely Beautiful Prince with a chronic anxiety disorder and his Stoic Beefy Bodyguard as they attempt to track down a coin counterfeiting ring that could bring down their whole economy, and also they fall in love along the way.

My next book, YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION (out in September), is also great for that sweeping romance vibe, but preorders are not quite up yet! If you are looking for a cozy M/M romantasy about a prickly, grouchy tea shop owner, his childhood nemesis who he's been fucking since they were teenagers, and the hard, unglamorous journey of personal growth toward self-love and self-forgiveness to be able to accept love from other people... Watch this space, get on my Discord server (where i am these days constantly ranting about IWTV in a dedicated thread), or sign up for my newsletter linked on my website

Thank you again for the entirely LOVELY ask, I will be beaming all day. Please give your partner a high five from me, I hope the two of you enjoy the books (and if you want to get autographed copies for their birthday, hit me up in DMs and we can get that sorted out)!

Also, there will be a new chapter of "different for vampires" going up in the next hour or so :D

[softrozene]

Short and Feisty Female S/O that Likes to Cuddle

Ladymogar asked: Aaaye I’m always so happy to see new writing blogs in fandoms I love ❤️ could I get hcs for Arthur, Charles, John, and/or Sean for having a smol s/o? Like short and fiesty but also into cuddly times? Thanks doll, I’ve really enjoyed your writing so far!

rdr2 masterlist

I adored this request and had to do all the characters suggested AND I added Javier because he is delicious. I would say the reader in this is under 5’5” (165.1 cm) as that is what is considered short where I am from but it’s different everywhere! Anyway, I’m glad you enjoy my writings, Hon!

I did go off this link when I think of the characters’ heights!

Originally published on March 31, 2020

Arthur, Charlies, Javier, John, Sean x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff

-

 Arthur Morgan-

Honestly, for him, I think he would be so fucking smitten with you

You would literally be everything he wanted in a partner

Small (or well smaller than what he would’ve imagined) but so much cuter and god the fire in you? To die for

He can 100% see himself risking it all for you and going to settle down to have a family with you- but that’s the future for him

The present with the gang around he would be hard to read

Or that’s how he likes to imagine himself

The second you stroll up to him and have to crane your neck to look up is the second his heart melts and that gentle giant comes out (maybe for a second but everyone in the gang definitely saw it)

Your feisty side originally made him assume that you weren’t the touchy-feely type

So when you first cuddled with him he was probably as stiff as a board and awkward but with you coaxing him into more cuddles which he always accepted he has realized how much he loves them

Poor boy is definitely touch-starved so he would never ever deny your cuddles no matter what time of day it is or who is present (Though he may get flustered)

It would become one of his favorite things to do with you

 Charles Smith-

Omg for Charles since he was a loner before the group and since the group has mostly taller people he would be astounded by your height at first

I feel like he would be on edge the whole time and make sure that he never ever harms you

That would probably be his number 1 fear in the relationship (Poor babe is scared he’ll crush you with his pinky or something)

It would take him a while to get used to being in a relationship with someone as small as you but thanks to your feisty side it makes him feel more comfortable eventually

It definitely eases him that you are not as fragile as you look (though let’s be honest he probably would adore how fragile you look since he would take on the protector role in the relationship)

He knows you are fully capable of protecting yourself though

This boy is touch-starved to but he has boundaries

He would set certain times or have cuddles only restricted to nights and away from prying eyes

He tries to compromise with you but really he believes that intimate moments should remain in private and once you do get to the cuddle session he will be absolute putty in your hands (Or you will be. It probably all depends on his mood)

 Javier Escuella-

This gorgeous man would never say anything about your attitude or height… in English of course

In Spanish, he’ll be teasing you relentlessly and you’ll be dying to find out what he’s saying

Your feisty attitude with this just makes him happy (and a tad impressed if you get mad enough to try and hit him)

No one else is allowed to comment about your height beside him- You both make sure of that

He would flirt with you constantly and without shame

And that’s how you would eventually get together

When he finds out you are a cuddler?

He’ll embrace and relish in it

He’s a romantic through and through so he won’t care where, when, and who is present he will always encourage and initiate the cuddles too

Though because he is a romance it could lead somewhere else and that’s when whoever present needs to speak up is

If you are outside the camp with him expect him to expect you to remain by his side or on his arm

He just likes the fact he can proudly show you off but if it ain’t your thing he won’t force it

Is absolute favorite time with you is when the two of you are cuddling, you in his lap, and he has the guitar on your lap strumming away as he sings softly into your ear

 John Marston-

He would be the one that wouldn’t care at first

It just doesn’t catch his attention and I feel like he would try to avoid you since your small stature and feisty nature reminds him of Abigail

Though once he does give in and you two become friends he’ll start to appreciate your stature and nature

He won’t comment on your height but he will purposely place things out of your reach to watch you struggle for it or so he could be “smooth” and help you (Yes imagine the cliché thing where the guy goes right behind the girl and they touch hands or something lmao- that would be John if he likes you)

Once he is confident that you aren’t like Abigail and you won’t get mad at him for teasing or initiating contact with you he’ll become more confident

I feel like he would be the first to try to cuddle and so when you let him he would just be awestruck

He doesn’t care too much about PDA around the gang but every once in a while he’ll pull you onto his lap and honestly if you let him or encourage him- he’ll probably marry you on the spot

John will appreciate you wanting to cuddle him but sometimes he’ll have his moods where he’ll need to be alone for a while

Don’t worry though because he will come back and feel bad for rejecting a cuddle and he’ll try to make it up to you

 Sean Macguire-

Would be the one to immediately say something about your height the first time you show up in the gang

He has no shame in teasing you, flirting with you, constantly picking on you

When he genuinely likes someone he’ll seem like a bit of a jerk but the cuteness of it is undeniable

Everyone in the gang will know why he acts like that and eventually you will too

However, because of your feisty nature, the beginning of the friendship and relationship would be both of your personalities clashing

He would 100% enjoy this though where you may get annoyed beyond relief

He is the one who would pick you up and carry you around camp to either piss you off or show off your smaller stature

1000000% Would be the one to use your head as an armrest and be all smug bout it

I think in general that Sean with a very short s/o would be a hilarious relationship

He could have his romantic moments but there will be absolutely no witnesses to show this

Unless he goes to Arthur, Hosea, or Dutch for help on how to charm you (That is the only time those three will have not lost faith in Sean’s romantic life)

As for cuddling, this boy lives for it

However, his hormones also live for it so the cute cuddles can and probably will turn into something else rather fast

Again he has no shame so he would try and cuddle (and do more tbh) with the gang present

[rojacatmisa]

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

[kimdokjas]

why you should read Mystic Prince if you enjoyed ORV

Mystic Prince / Prince of Myolyeong (묘령의 황자) is a fantasy and action-adventure manhwa with art & story by Aheuredal (아흐레달) and in my humble opinion, an absolute hidden gem. it's literally one the best manhwas i've ever read (among the top 2) and i've finally gathered my thoughts enough to try to articulate why i love it so much, and hopefully convince you to give it a chance!

here's the official summary on webtoon:

An immortal emperor rules the Kingdom of Yeol, a divine country blessed by gods with awesome powers. After a thousand years of peaceful rule, the time has come for a new emperor to be chosen. This is determined by a series of trials, in which twenty princes with special powers who have trained since birth must compete. As all princes of varying personalities and agendas gather to partake in the trials, intrigue and possibly even bloodshed seem all but certain. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the other princes, the Fourth Prince Jeok-yeon Ryu hides a secret he must guard with his life.

anyway i literally made a carrd for this, that's how much i care about this manhwa and i worked very hard on it!! you can find the carrd here*

(* also if you hate daily pass like me pls note that there's a fan translation as well! just keep in mind that some episodes have ost but you can find the links to youtube on the carrd as well. but if you enjoy it please do try to leave likes, comments, and a good rating on webtoon to support the creator!)

Mystic Prince is incredibly unique in terms of story and execution that i can't really compare it to anything else but here's why i think you'll enjoy it, especially if you also liked orv:

strong-willed MC who's not naturally skilled but works extremely hard

said MC is willing to suffer and hurt themselves to achieve their goals (aka kim dokja-esque tendencies)

seemingly cold and aloof ML with yoo joonghyuk vibes at first, naturally gifted and seems to look down on everyone

...but is actually head over heels for MC and just doesn't know how to express his feelings

ensemble cast of incredibly complex and well-developed characters with different personalities and motivations

MC seems a little dense at times but they have a tragic backstory that explains why they're Like That

incredibly bisexual vibes !! like literally off the charts

slowburn romance that is cooking up such a great meal

MC and ML have actually known each other for centuries

characters go through trials that involve risking death

extremely unique lore and world-building

i said ML before but there are actually multiple potential MLs with how much complexity all the character dynamics have

beautiful character designs (literally over 10+ within the main cast and they're all so unique)

evocative writing and heartfelt monologues that seem taken out of a book of pure poetry

narratively significant motifs of fire and water (à la orv's black/white and reader/protagonist)

profound and realistic depiction of the inner feelings and troubles that the characters go through

incredibly heart-wrenching original soundtrack! (actually made me cry)

some of the most gorgeous art i've seen in any manhwa (seriously pls just open the 1st episode and look at the first few panels)

[spoilers below for chapter ~10]

delicious gender fuckery

MC is actually cross-dressing afab (i personally hc them as genderqueer; korean doesn't have gendered pronouns but the official tl uses she/her pronouns)

bonus: they're built like a fucking tank (as seen here) like hello??? which is so refreshing to see for an afab MC

plus they're also canonically lacking in empathy but still deeply compassionate which again is really refreshing

i'm sure there's even more stuff i'm forgetting but these are just some reasons off the top of my head why i think this manhwa is so amazing

please do give Mystic Prince a chance, it's an absolute delight!! there are multiple beautiful covers but here's a couple of them, BE ART BAITED <3

and finally some of my personal reactions to Mystic Prince and also a note regarding the content warnings under the cut!

feel free to skip this part lol but personally when i look for recs, i love when people tell me their emotional reactions and how passionate they are about it! so if this tells you anything,

this is the ONLY manhwa to have made me cry so far (yes that includes the orv webtoon, but not the novel ofc) like actually ugly sobbing with snot and tears and everything lmao

(it's not all sad though! this manhwa will have you clutching your heart one moment and then cackling out loud the next)

and it's also the ONLY manhwa i've ever spent actual money on before the fan tl picked it up just so i could read the advanced chapters (i'm notoriously cheap so this says a lot imo)

and i'm not alone in this, every other comment on webtoon is people saying the exact same thing. the general consensus is that this is 100% a hidden gem (webtoon DP my behated why'd you have to shoot yourself in the foot like that)

also regarding the content warnings on the carrd: this was my first time making a list of cws (i don't think anyone else has made one yet?) and i was a little hesitant to add them, so i sincerely apologize if i missed anything!! if anyone else has anything else to add (cws or otherwise) then please feel free to send me a message and i'll be happy to edit it!!

(btw this was inspired by this post which is also a great summary for why u should read a cnovel called mist unlimited)

[sucuretcannelle]

hi! i briefly remember you saying that you're into if's, so i was wondering what your favorites are

Sighs and shakes a red cup full of ice

Nobody thinks I'm a nerd till they hear the way I talk about interactive fiction...no one knows...

Anyway I started playing IF's in like December. Time flies

This is kind of in order? Of like enjoyment. HOWEVER take this with a grain of salt because I was sitting here trying to rearrange them (except the top 3) for 40 minutes. If it was mentioned, it's good 🙂‍↕️

1. The six that thrive by @the-six-that-thrive-if —

the way I was playing this bro. I wouldn't let myself sleep until I was done with the demo and not because it felt like I had to, but I knew I would be PISSED if I went to bed without absorbing all the content (Dante give me a chance PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏). Anyway the hierarchy system reminds me of the one that I have for the way I wrote hell and I was like 🫵 OMG THATS SO COOL.

Key factor that I appreciate: Dialogue, descriptions, and transitions. Dante is deadass so funny I'm not even playing bro. Buddy how do you write like that, lmk. Also the official art has me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

2. College Tennis: Origin Story by @collegetennisoriginstory — I ACTUALLY HAVE A FUCKING PROBLEM BRO. LOOK. IN MY HEAD, I WAS IGNORING THAT THEY WERE PLAYING TENNIS SO I WAS VISUALIZING VOLLEYBALL. SO AT SOME POINT I READ THE WORD RACKET AND I WAS LIKE WHAT ARE WE PLAYING???

Key factor that I appreciate: Skill checks, attention to side characters, amazing use of character tropes. Idk how to describe it but the writing felt so CLEAN. Like so organized and orderly. Plus I wanna study all of the characters under a microscope

3. Superstition (omg first IF I ever played) by @13leaguestories — I played this while I was sick and that's literally all I did for 2 days besides eating and sleeping. Am I okay? Yeah cuz it happened in December but like I was OBSESSED. And ashamed. My friend told me i would be into Zillah and she was right. I haven't recovered. I promise I'm in therapy.

Key factor that I appreciate: The fact that there was always something going on. Literally at least 3 things were happening at the same time, all the time, and it kept my lil depressed ass stimulated. Who could ask for more

4. Infamous by @infamous-if — this game makes me scared of commitment cuz I can't have Orion and Griffin😐 I might be biased because. I sing! So I was just really connected to this story immediately. Either way, one of my favs cuz the writing is saurrrr good, makes ya feel

Key factor that I appreciate — Infamous is generally well rounded, so I don't feel like it's LACKING in anything. Me gusta.

5. Mind blind by @mindblindbard — I have a problem so I'm a stereotypical Rosie fan. But anyway I personally loved this one because of the world building, even tho I'm a character-focused girlie. Plus the game is so funny for no reason

Key factor that I appreciate— I actually really like the MC in general. Which is funny to say, because they're supposed to be you, but MC's are different from game to game, and I like this one

6. Soulmates Inc by @soulmatesinc-if — idk with some games, it's just the vibe. Like the vibe is right so I'll read it (which like...it's hard for me to find games where the vibe is what drags me along. Tis really good)

Key factor I appreciate — Wyatt. omg who said that...I also love this game's take on soulmates. It's simple, but original, and I fw it

7. Nine Blood Dances by @nineblooddances-if— I'm boutta cry, how did you end up here twice without me noticing bro. Idk this one and TSTT have like, vibes that are connected by a small string, and I did play this one first if that matters.

Key factor that I enjoyed: It felt very structured, and again, clean. I really don't know what this feeling is

8. When Twilight Strikes by @evertidings — I love ALL the characters because damn near all of them pissed me off once. That's actually impressive /pos. Anyway Rylan hit my line

Key factor that I enjoyed: watching my relationship descriptions change. Some left me devastated stop... Like sorry A you're driving me nuts...

Honorable mentions:

Apartment 502 by @apt502-if — I can't wait to see the future parts cuz like I like it but I cant analyze any of the characters yet. But trust me I'm ready 📝

The Kings Hound by @the-kingshound — Same typa situation was Apartment 502... I'm waiting...patiently 📝

[sheluvslani]

Not What It Looks Like Pt. 1

Request: Omg Lani, I’m so fucking high rn and I gots an idea. What about a ghostface Amber fic where she breaks into r’s house as ghostface. I kinda want it to be like in scream 1996 with Tatum where r goes: “don’t kill me Mr ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.” But like ghostface/amber spares them for s*x in return. And then r finds out it’s Amber bc of the way ghostface is fucking them. ITS A LOT, I KNOW BUT I FEEL LIKE IM COOKING UP SOMETHING HERE- (anyway, I love your work ;3, keep doing yo shi bsf)

Pairing: Ghostface!Amber x fem!reader

Summary: Ghostface breaks into r’s apartment, fearing for her life, r would do anything to survive.

Warning: Ghostface, breaking in, red text color is ghostface talking, set in scream 5 but with certain characters added from scream 6🤓

A/n: okay Walter white, I see you cooking up something other than that weed :3 I love this request tho, istg I gotta get high more often to create ideas this good LMAO! No but seriously, this sounds amazing and thank you for asking me to write this! (Plus, I find it funny that you censored sex)

You were at your friend Tara’s dorm with the rest of your friend group, playing uno and getting drunk. You were sat down between Tara and your girlfriend Amber. She rested her hand on your thigh as she watched the game, sipping on her beer. 

“Uno!” You raised your hands in the air as a sign in victory, the rest of the group groaning and slamming their cards down onto the wooden dining table.

As you cheered and gloated in front of everyone’s face, the news on the TV started blaring, the siren blaring in your ears.

“Breaking News: Blackmore University film student by the name of Jason Carvey was found brutally stabbed in his dorm. The mutilated body of his roommate, Gary Bruckner, has been found crammed inside the fridge. A bloody Ghostface mask was found on the scene, police ran a DNA test and concluded that the mask belonged to Billy Loomis,”

“The infamous Ghostface of Woodsboro,” You and the group finished the sentence in unison. After the Woodsboro attack, the group moved to New York to live a “normal life”

But it looks like the plans gone to shit.

Amber reached over for the remote and shut the TV off. When you looked at her, her expression was stone cold, her jaw clenched as she stared at the blank screen. You originally thought it was from shock, but there was something in the way her lips pursed too hard that made it seem odd.

“It’s probably not even Ghostface this time, just some random looking for a thrill.” Mindy said as she got up to grab another beer.

“I’m sorry, Catherine Obvious, but have you been here for the past year?” Chad waved his hand in front of Mindy’s face when she sat down. “It’s obviously him… they followed us.” He leaned back his chair, drumming his fingers on his arm.

The room was silent for a moment, everyone taking in the information that no one wanted to hear.

“We need to go.” Sam stared down in the middle of the table, her eyes burning holes into the colorful Uno cards. 

“Psh, Sam, it’ll be fine. Don’t be dramatic.” Amber smirked as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, her attitude completely different than what it was 10 seconds ago.

Sam threw a death-glance at Amber, about to cuss her out before Anika spoke up, 

“Yeah, I think we’ll be fine. If anything, we have cute boy across the street to help us.” Anika smirked as Sam’s face grew a bright red, muttering something under her breath before beelining to her room.

“Well. I say we call it a night.” Chad said as he stretched his arms over his head.

Everyone agreed and collected their belongings while Mindy was (rightfully) the one to help clean up everything.

————————————————————————

Amber had her arm wrapped around your waist as she walked you back to your dorm. When you arrived, Amber softly kissed your cheek as her other hand traveled up your shoulder, her fingers digging into your skin.

“Be safe, y/n. I can’t handle another one of Sam’s hour-long speeches about sticking together.”

You softly chuckled as she swept a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll try. But if anything happens, I’ll call you. Goodnight, Amber.” You softly squeezed her arm before letting go, entering your dorm as you blew her a kiss.

You locked the door behind you, placing your phone and keys on the entryway table. You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles tense from the game and a pounding headache from the news and the amount of alcohol in your system. 

You walked into your bedroom, taking off your shoes before grabbing a pair of pajamas and heading to the bathroom, your steps slow and relaxed.

The hot water of the shower rained down on you, your muscles relaxing from the aroma of the lavender bodywash that Amber bought for you. The soap suds ran down your curves, collecting at the foot of the shower before being washed away.

When you finished and wrapped yourself in a towel, you walked to the sink to brush your teeth. The spearmint toothpaste lingered in your mouth before being replaced with the strong taste of the cool mint mouthwash you spat out into the sink.

You put in a black bra and a pair of black panties before grabbing your pajamas. The blue cotton antic stuck to your damp body as you pulled the shirt over your head and stepped into the matching pants.

You threw your dirty clothes into the weaven laundry hamper, the bin rocking against the wall for a split second. 

You sat down in front of your vanity, grabbing your brush and running it through the knots in your hair. The brush caught on one particularly big knot in your hair. As you struggled to brush it out, the landline that was sitting on your bedside table started ringing.

“Unknown Number”

The words flashed on the tiny screen as the ringing filled the room.

 Once you brushed out the tangle, you reached over to press the “accept” button on the landline.

“Hello? Y/n speaking. ” You called out as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Hello? Is Maria there?” The voice on the other line was adenoidal and croaky.

Maria was your roommate who was currently out of town, visiting her parents.

“No, she’s not available. Might I ask who this is?”

“I’m Joey. I’m in her trig class” The caller cleared their throat.

“Oh yeah? Joey from trigonometry. How come I’ve never heard of you, Joey from trigonometry?” You smirked as you teased the poor person on the other line.

“You sound exactly like how she describes you.”

“She talks about me?

“I don’t think I can really talk about that.”

“What does she say about me?”

“She says that you’re creative. You love reading and TV and movies.”

“Lots of people love movies.”

“Yeah, but she says you love scary movies and that you guys have that in common.”

“She told me the other day, she wonders…” The voice trailed off for a moment before continuing.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Your ear perked up as you faced the landline, the bright green color of the screen stared at you, blinking the numbers over and over again.

“Well, I really liked “X”. It’s great representation of the psycho-biddy genre.”

“Sounds kinda boring to me. Have you ever seen Stab?”

“Once, i think. At a sleepover when I was, like, 12.”

“You lived in Woodsboro when you were a kid and you don’t know Stab?”

Now that, caught your attention. No one exceopt for the rest of the group knew you were from Woodsboro. You picked up the phone, pulling it to your ear as you made your way back into the living room to grab your cell.

“How’d you know I lived in Woodsboro?”

The voice on the other line was replaced by heavy breathing and the sound of rummaging.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Amber.”

“I told you, this isn’t Amber. But you’re looking particularly fetching tonight. Those blue pajamas really fit you.”

“What do you want?” You grabbed your phone and pulled up the dial button, as you pressed in the 9 and 1, the voice boomed again.

“Stop right there, y/n. You call the cops, you die. You hang up the phone, you die. It’s not hard getting into your dorm. Especially when you leave your window unlocked.”

That’s when you felt the slight breeze behind you. As you turned around, you saw that the living room window was wide open, the wind flowing with the curtains.

You bolted to the window, slamming it shut and locking it. You ran into your room, locking the door behind you.

The voice came on the landline again, “Come on, y/n… Don’t be shy, come and find me…”

You searched every nook and cranny in your room, carefully making sure there was no sign of Ghostface here.

When you searched under your bed, you found a bloody Ghostface mask, more blood stuck to your hands the longer you held it… it was easy to recognize this one too…

Mickey Alteri

The 2nd Ghostface

“What the fu-,” was all you could manage to get out before you heard the doors of your closet adjacent to the bed, crashing open. A black-robed figure sprinting at you was the last thing you saw before being tackled to the ground by Ghostface. A knife was pressed against your throat from the person above you, the voice changer crackled with every heavy breath.

“Surprise, y/n.”

[necrotic-nephilim]

bftc jaytim fuck nasty in their batman suits🩷

CORRECT THEY DO. it's like you live in my brain, anon. and for that, you get a full fic bc i've wanted to write this anyway and you gave me an excuse to. have 6k words worth of dirtybadwrong JayTim. rough sex, blood play, pain play, degradation, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove vibes so be warned. but also enjoy bc ily for this thought anon 🩷

“You look ridiculous in that get-up. Like a kid out for trick-or-treats.” The words were just as brutal as the fight was. Jason had the bodyweight and training to easily pin Tim, now that he was done toying around. 

Of course, toying around for Jason Todd looked like bloody slashes across Tim’s back, base of his skull, and his forehead. Picking one of Bruce’s older suits may have been a bad idea on Tim’s part. The armor was thinner and easier for Jason to slash through with a batarang in a clenched fist. 

Tim had managed to knock the batarang out of Jason’s hand, but that also seemed like a bad idea now, with Jason on top of Tim. His fists were even more brutal, blunt weapons and he’d reinforced the gloves to make his punches hit harder across Tim’s face. 

There was blood pouring from Tim’s nose and mouth. With all the pain flaring across his body, it was hard for him to get a good read on if anything was broken or not. 

All he knew was it hurt. His head spun from slamming against the concrete. It was hard for Tim to blink his eyes into focus. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t. Jason was leaning in so close, his mask was all Tim could see. Tim dizzily wondered how the glowing eyes didn’t impede Jason’s vision. 

“Look at me,” Jason demanded. His voice was robotic behind the thick metal mouthpiece. One of his fists pulled back for another punch. “Do you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?”

By some miracle, Tim managed to catch the punch before it connected with his face. The muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed at the animalistic strength Jason pushed back with, inching his fist closer and closer to connecting. If it did manage to connect, Tim knew his own hand in the way wouldn’t do much to soften the blow. If anything, Jason would shatter Tim’s knuckles against his own nose.

Not a pretty thought.

“That mad I said no to being your Robin?” Tim wheezed. It was hard to get air in his lungs, with Jason perched on his chest, putting all his weight on Tim’s midsection. 

Jason scoffed with cruel amusement. “You’re a second choice, Drake. It doesn’t matter to me if you say no, I can always ask the original. He’d at least put up a better fight than you’re managing.”

Tim couldn’t argue that. He thought he’d have some kind of chance in a fight against Jason, but it was a losing game to confront Jason on his turf, in a suit Tim wasn’t comfortable in. He was too stupid to even bring his bo staff.

A great Batman he was turning out to be.

With bloody teeth, Tim smiled. “You’re right. Is that why I’m your reflection, Jason? Two second rate Robins who will never be the original?” He managed a laugh against protesting ribs. “For what it’s worth, I still think I’m better than you. Least I didn’t die.”

He couldn’t see the look on Jason’s face, but he didn’t need to. The feral yell that came out of Jason spoke for itself at how well Tim got under his skin. Jason’s other fist came barreling toward Tim’s face, but he managed to move his head out of the way, making it only connect with the ground. Jason’s punch was hard enough to make the concrete crack.

Even with the reinforced gloves, that had to hurt. Maybe a couple cracked bones, if Tim was lucky. Jason couldn’t hit as hard if he injured himself. 

That was a solid plan. If he’d actually planned it in the first place. 

“Can’t believe I ever liked you, Drake,” Jason snarled, pulling his hand free from the concrete. He flexed his fingers just a bit too slow. He definitely hurt himself, even if he was trying to hide it. Jason went for his utility belt, grabbing another batarang. 

“Flattering,” Tim deadpanned. He tried to elbow Jason in the neck, but Jason easily twisted away from the blow. 

“I really did you know,” Jason said. Maybe it was the mask, but Tim could’ve sworn Jason’s tone changed slightly. “If Bruce hadn’t corrupted you, you really could’ve been something.”

Tim ignored the comment about Bruce. Bruce’s death was too raw for Tim to be able to look at his grief about it head-on. “Can’t say the feeling was mutual,” Tim grunted. He tried to slash his glove fins across Jason’s face. But Jason was smarter. He had a more durable suit that made the blow easily glance off. 

Damn Tim for picking this suit. He idealized Bruce’s image too much and forwent practicality. He was paying for it now. A new suit would’ve had proper weapons worked into the wrists for Tim to easily flick out. 

“I don’t know about that,” Jason mocked with a cold laugh. “Remind me again Drake, who broke me out of prison?”

He had a point. 

“Real great job you’ve done repaying that kindness,” Tim muttered. He avoided addressing it directly. He didn’t owe Jason his reasons. Especially not with how they’d all blown up in his face. 

“I never needed your kindness,” Jason growled. He wrapped a hand around Tim’s throat and pressed down just enough to make it uncomfortable for Tim to breathe. “That’s what all you Bats could never get through your skulls. I didn’t need to be Bruce’s pity project, and I definitely didn’t need to be yours.”

“Trust me,” Tim fought to get the words out, trying to worm his fingers under Jason’s grip. “You don’t have my pity.”

“What do I have, then?”

“My contempt.” The more Tim struggled, the tighter Jason’s grip got. The sharp points of his claws were starting to dig into Tim’s skin and draw blood. Blood flow was cut off from Tim’s brain and he fought to keep hold of his consciousness. 

“Liar,” Jason hissed. “No one else is here, Tim. You don’t have to pretend and hide things from me I already know.”

Maybe passing out would be a good thing. Then, Tim would have a convenient reason for not answering Jason. A reason to not face the truth Jason wanted him to bare.

Tim knew that Jason probably knew. The way they’d looked at each other through the prison safety glass when Jason was locked up had a thousand unspoken words in just a shared smile. A promise, that maybe, if Jason cleaned himself up with this second chance, there could be something between them.

But Jason didn’t clean up. He flung himself in the opposite direction, if anything. A growing body count and an ugly reign of terror that was Tim’s job to stop.

He started this. He put misplaced faith in Jason. Tim’s bad judgment jeopardized Gotham. 

And now Jason wanted the unspoken part said out loud. Something a part of Tim would rather die than admit after all this. They both already knew. Making Tim say it was just an obvious attempt to humiliate him and Tim refused to sink to Jason’s level.

All this over a stupid crush. 

“Fine,” Jason continued when Tim didn’t say anything. “I’ll say it for you. You loved me.”

Tim made a face and twisted, finally forcing Jason’s hand free from his neck with a hard strike to his inner elbow. “It wasn’t love,” he insisted through grit teeth.

“What was it then?”

Tim didn’t say a word. He wasn’t going to give in to Jason’s cruelty.

“Tell you what,” Jason’s voice dropped low and almost sultry. “If you say it out loud, I’ll give you a free pass. No one will know.”

“A free pass?”

There was no way Jason was implying what Tim thought he was.

“Right here, right now.” Jason nodded. “Can’t say I’ll make it sweet, but something tells me you’re not the vanilla type anyway.”

Shit. He was implying that. Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

The answer should’ve been obvious. 

The answer was obvious. Tim was laying in a growing pool of his own blood because of Jason. Countless people were dead because of Jason. Bruce’s legacy was being destroyed because of Jason. Whatever little crush Tim had once had was long gone and replaced with disgust and hatred.

Most of it was. 

But some small piece of Tim clung to the way Jason grinned at him. And that small piece of him seemed to be steering the rest of him, making him hesitate on what should’ve been an easy answer. An easy chance to catch Jason off guard and get the upper hand in the fight.

Tim hoped the cowl hid enough of his face that his expression wasn’t readable. 

“Over my dead body,” Tim forced the words out, pulling himself back into reality. Praying Jason wouldn’t read into the pause. 

Jason’s body shifted. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and brought the batarang clenched in his fist to Tim’s neck, easily finding the jugular. “So be it. I agree anyway. Killing you is the best way to cut this goddamn feeling out of me.”

“What feeling?” Tim frowned, fingers twitching as he stalled, trying to think of a real plan. 

“No, no.” Jason shook his head and laughed. It was a hollow sound, this time. “You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. If you won’t say it, then I won’t either.”

Oh.

“You…” Tim sucked in a breath. He was on death’s edge, a blade to his neck, but somehow it was the furthest thing from his spinning mind. “You like me? Like that?” He said it like a stupid high schooler, too shy to even look their crush in the eye. 

“What difference does it make now?” Jason shifted his weight on Tim, bearing down more. “This was always how it was going to end, between us.”

“It makes all the difference,” Tim said. He didn’t know why it did. But he knew it did. Tim reached a hand up, but instead of going for Jason’s batarang, he went further. His fingers reached under his own cowl and tugged it off, baring his face to Jason. 

Vulnerability. A metaphorical white flag, surrendering to Jason. 

Tim was dangerously close to getting himself killed. He could feel it, in his beating heart and overflowing adrenaline. 

“I would’ve come at this from a different angle if I knew…” Tim started, before trailing off. They were still dancing around saying it directly.

Jason barked out another laugh. “Oh, would you? What, you would’ve come to talk instead of fight? You really think that would’ve worked?”

“Maybe-“

“I told you,” Jason’s grip on the batarang tightened, “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“And you don’t have it,” Tim snapped back. Too angry. This angle was quickly slipping away from him. Shit. “You’re a psychopathic killer and I don’t know if you can ever been redeemed after what you’ve done. But I would’ve tried out of love, not pity, you sanctimonious asshole.”

Jason stuttered. He leaned back and breathed hard. Tim really wished he wasn’t wearing that stupid mask. “You said it wasn’t love.”

Tim took in a deep breath, and let himself fall over the ledge he’d been trying so hard to cling to since Jason pinned him. “I lied.”

For a moment, Tim was convinced he’d just sealed his own coffin. Whatever Jason’s feelings were, it didn’t seem like they were any particular deterrent to hurting Tim. He was inches away from killing Tim and leaving his body for someone else to find.

If they found Tim’s body at all.

But instead. Instead, Jason reached up and ripped the metal part of his mask off, tossing it aside to skitter off into the darkness.

And he kissed Tim.

Tim let out the breath he was holding against Jason’s mouth. And in turn, Jason breathed him in, greedy with his kiss. The batarang was kept firm against Tim’s throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jason was kissing him. 

There was still the logical side of him screaming just how bad of an idea this was. All the reasons he could think of to not tangle with Jason were running circles across his mind. 

Tim ignored them and kissed Jason back. 

Jason tasted like metal and he smelled like gunpowder. Both of those things made sense and made Tim want more. He wanted every single part of Jason he could drink up, even from a single kiss. Jason’s tongue was in his mouth, licking and opening Tim up. They shared each other’s blood through the kiss, until Tim couldn’t tell whose was whose. 

The kiss was broken by Jason just as suddenly as it was started. Jason pulled back and raised the batarang. Panic flashed through Tim and he instinctively threw his hands up to cover his face and neck. 

The batarang slashed through Tim’s suit though, thankfully not giving him what might’ve been the stupidest death in the history of vigilantism. Jason didn’t seem to care about making sure the cut didn’t get Tim’s skin, though. Shallow wounds sprang across Tim’s skin and he hissed, watching Jason turn the suit to ribbons. The batarang was then tossed aside so Jason could rip off the suit as he leaned back. 

The bat symbol on Tim’s chest stayed in tact, but everything below it was ripped away, exposing him from his abs down to his thighs. Jason knew exactly how to unclip the utility belt and throw that aside, with the shreds of fabric. 

Cold air hit Tim’s most private areas. He wanted to cover himself, but he couldn’t get his hands to obey. His entire body was paralyzed under Jason’s gaze.

“Take off your mask,” Tim found his voice, rough and not sounding like himself.

Jason wore a cruel smirk. “No.” He did take off his gloves, though. Tim didn’t hide his sigh of relief. He didn’t want those claws on his skin. He was bleeding enough as it was.

The moment Jason’s hands were bare, he ran them over Tim’s skin. Tim hissed and flinched, but didn’t pull away. He let Jason’s warm hands claim his skin. Jason wasn’t kind or gentle. He smeared Tim’s blood around, exploring every bare inch. Tim’s stomach, his hips, his back, his legs. 

Jason curled a hand around Tim’s dick and Tim’s back arched. 

To be fair, this wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured sleeping with Jason. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 

Jason jerked Tim off rough and fast. The blood on his hand was slick enough to make a smooth glide over the callouses of his palm. Tim groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked into Jason’s hand. As much pain as his body was in, the pleasure was too distracting for him to care. Tim choked on every breath he managed to take in, unable to stop himself from crying out and whining.

His body was screaming at him because of what Jason had done to him. And now, he was letting himself fall apart to Jason’s hands in a different way. 

“If Grayson found us, he’d think I was fucking torturing you from all the pathetic noises you’re making,” Jason growled. He barely sounded human. He slid his other hand up Tim’s chest and grabbed Tim’s face, stroking his cheek. 

Tim groaned at the thought. He forced his eyes to open just so he could look at Jason. He really wished Jason would take the cowl off. Tim wanted to see Jason’s face more than anything. 

“Don’t bring him up,” Tim gasped, practically humping Jason’s hand for more delirious pleasure. “I don’t want to think about him now.”

At least he could see Jason’s smirk. “Why? Because you know he’d disapprove?”

“Because I want to think about you.” Tim tried to grab at Jason’s suit to pull it off. His hands were clumsy and shaky though, probably from blood loss. All he could do was uselessly press them against Jason’s chest and feel the warmth through layers of armor.

“Fuck,” Jason groaned. His whole body shuddered, affected by Tim’s words alone. Jason stopped jerking Tim off so he could unclip his belt. He kept his other hand against Tim’s face though. Stroking it. “Least I know why you broke me out of prison, now.”

Tim made an aghast noise. “This is not why I broke you out of prison.”

Jason leaned in close, resting his face against Tim’s. “You still broke me out. So all my blood is on your hands too, Tim.” He pressed a kiss against Tim’s temple. “Bruce wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do that. Hell of a Batman you make.” It was like he had crawled into Tim’s brain just to voice all the awful little thoughts that Tim tried to bury. 

“You-“ Tim tried to snap back, but he was distracted by the sound of Jason undoing a clasp, then a zipper. Tim looked down and watched, breath caught in his throat, as Jason pulled his cock out of his pants.

He was already hard. 

Jason’s hand smeared blood across his member. Tim swallowed at the sight. Jason had pushed his pants down just enough to expose a sliver of pale skin. He had a sharp v-line and toned muscles just from the bit Tim could see. An embarrassing noise came out of Tim’s throat.

“Pathetic,” Jason said, but he groaned on the word, working his hand over himself. It was filthy. Both of them, covered in blood, and Jason jerking off on top of Tim. 

Tim wrapped an arm around Jason. He wanted to sink his fingers into Jason’s hair, but he settled for wrapping them around the back of Jason’s cowl. Tim seriously considered trying to pull the cowl off himself, but he doubted Jason would take kindly to it. 

The noises Jason made as he pleasured himself were beautiful. Tim’s sounds were animalistic and, in Jason’s own words, pathetic. Barely human sounding. But Jason. Jason sounded practically divine, low and smooth as he moaned in Tim’s ear. 

“Please,” Tim gasped. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for.

“That desperate?” Jason downright purred. 

Tim didn’t hold himself back from nodding. He swallowed down his dignity. 

If he had any dignity left.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” Jason warned. Like he was giving Tim one last chance to back out.

Tim just laughed. “If you think I want you to be gentle, you really don’t know a thing about me.”

A guttural groan came out of Jason. He pulled back and lifted one of Tim’s legs, bending it as far back as he could. Tim wasn’t quite as flexible as Dick was, but Jason got pretty far before Tim’s muscles protested and he winced. 

“Of course you shave down there,” Jason commented. He slid a hand over Tim’s smooth skin around his cock and balls.

“I don’t like pubes getting caught in my suit,” Tim huffed, trying not to let his cheeks go red.

“Don’t worry,” Jason hummed, “I think it’s cute. Makes you look like a fucking virgin.”

“I’m not.” Like it mattered.

Jason paused, just staring at Tim. Was he disappointed? It was hard to tell. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, so it doesn’t matter either way.” Whether or not he was disappointed was masked with a rough, possessive anger that made Tim gasp.

Rough fingers ran over the shallow cuts on Tim’s stomach and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain. It wasn’t easy to ignore the dull throbbing when Jason was practically fingering the open wounds. Tim almost asked what the hell he was doing, before he realized Jason was smearing blood across his fingers, getting them slick and coated.

“Seriously? You’re going to use my own blood to fuck me?” Tim asked, like just the thought of it wasn’t making him spread his legs wider. Still, the idea of cleaning tacky blood out of himself did make Tim internally cringe.

“You got a better idea?” Jason shot back. 

“I think there’s lube in-“

“No.” Jason cut him off, pressing harder into the cuts just to make Tim wince. “We’re doing it my way, or I just leave you in a pool of your own blood with a hard-on.”

“Okay.” Tim caved instantly with a hushed whisper at the rough dominance. 

It was so easy, for Jason to take complete control of Tim. He was putty in Jason’s hands, content to be manipulated however Jason wanted, so long as Tim got his own pleasure out of it. If Jason wanted Tim to bleed, he would bleed. If he wanted Tim to be spread open and ready to be fucked, then Tim would give him that too.

Christ. He needed to be checked out mentally after this. 

Jason gave Tim a pleased hum, probably the closest thing to praise Tim was going to get out of him. He’d take it. Blood slick fingers pressed against Tim’s hole. Two fingers were forced in at once, hard and fast.

Tim screamed.

He didn’t expect Jason to be gentle, but it seemed like Jason was going out of his way to be rough. Scrapping his nails against Tim’s insides and brutally twisting his fingers around. He didn’t try to hit Tim’s prostate to bring any kind of pleasure. The brushes of his fingers over that spot were more painful than pleasurably, if anything. Fast and rough, giving Tim no chance to soak up the sparks of sensation from the bundle of nerves.

“Oh god,” Tim groaned, throwing his head back. His hips twitched violently, like they weren’t sure to press into Jason’s fingers for more, or to try to pull away from the horrible assault.

It’d been a while since Tim had been in this much pain. So battered from a fight that every movement of his body was weak and shaky. He grabbed onto Jason’s arm, desperate for an anchor. He couldn’t have pulled Jason off of him, even if he wanted to.

He didn’t, though. Tim wanted this to last as long as it possibly could. 

He never got to drown himself in the pain. Pain was something that had to be compartmentalized and ignored, for the sake of the mission. Getting back on his feet and ignoring the way his body screamed at him was one of the first things Bruce taught him. 

Now, Tim didn’t have to fight it. He could just give in. The half-hearted instincts from his body trying to fight back were ignored by Jason. Like Jason knew that Tim wanted this. 

Needed this. 

At some point, Jason must’ve worked a third finger inside of Tim. He didn’t notice. The burning stretch swirled with every other point of pain on his body. 

He did noticed when Jason finally decided to purposefully press against Tim’s prostate.

This pleasure was new. Foreign and overstimulating with how aggressively Jason pressed down on the spot, rubbing into it to pull all kinds of noises out of Tim he didn’t know he was capable of making. 

“Jason!” Tim cried out. “Fuck, too much, I can’t-“ Tim’s stomach was cramping from how hard his muscles clenched. He was falling, losing his grip on sensible reality. His head was full of cotton, foggy and unable to get a solid grip on coherent thought.

There were only three things that existed to Tim: pain, pleasure, and Jason. 

“You can’t what? Use your fucking words,” Jason mocked, vicious and uncaring. He rested Tim’s leg over his shoulder to free up his other hand. His fingers wrapped around Tim’s balls and tugged. Tim screamed and arched like a jack knife. He hadn’t noticed how close his orgasm was creeping up on him until Jason pulled it away with a brutal, carnal pain. When Tim lost control of his body, Jason found it and snatched it up, holding Tim’s pleasure in his palm. Tim wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t force his limbs to obey. 

“Hurts,” was all Tim could groan out. He might’ve been crying. It was hard to tell, with his face so wet with blood. 

“Good.”

“Jason,” Tim tried to beg. He was lost to subspace, something he barely realized until now. “I can’t take anymore.” He wanted more. More than want, god, he needed more, but his body was wired so tight Tim was convinced he was going to snap if Jason kept going. 

He wanted that too.

“That’s not for you to decide.” Jason’s rough voice was a light at the end of a tunnel Tim was struggling toward to ground himself. To focus on something besides the agony crashing over his body in brutal waves. “Do you really think you’re in the fucking state to know what you can take?”

Jason was right. Tim just whined, a noise that turned into a choked sob when Jason pulled his fingers out just enough to slam them into Tim’s sweet spot again, overwhelming him with more awful pleasure. 

“Give yourself over to me,” Jason demanded. He leaned in close again. Tim’s vision was blurred, but he could smell the gunpowder and leather. “Say it. Say I own you.”

Tim wanted to. He tried, opening his mouth and struggling to get the words out. He could only make more pathetic noises.

“Say it, or I’ll stab you and leave you to fucking bleed out.”

He probably wasn’t lying.

“You-“ Tim choked on the word, shaking so hard his muscles were spasming. “You own me.” Three little words, and they were the hardest words Tim had ever tried to say. Each one fought against him, getting stuck in his throat. 

But he said them. Because right now, they were the only religion Tim believed in. 

“Look at that,” Jason cooed. So patronizing. “You’re not completely brainless and worthless. Yet, anyway.” He pulled his fingers out of Tim. One second those fingers had been driving Tim mad because they were inside of him, and now they were driving him mad because they left him empty and wanting. 

His body needed more. More pain, more pleasure. Until he broke and Jason fucked the shattered pieces left of Tim. 

Jason got a hand underneath Tim, using the blood from the gash on Tim’s back to slick his fingers this time. That gash was far deeper. Something that probably needed stitches. It had started trying to clot but Jason agitated it enough for fresh blood to pour out. He was able to actually work his fingers under Tim’s bloody skin, making Tim shriek and try to pull away. 

There was nowhere for him to escape from the mind-numbing pain. When he pulled away, he just crashed into Jason’s chest, forehead bumping against the bat symbol of Jason’s suit. 

“So fucking easy to push your buttons,” Jason laughed. He moved his fingers around a bit more just to make his point and pull more wounded noises out of Tim. Then he finally pulled them free and let Tim fall back to the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of Tim.

He didn’t have a chance to try to get air into his lungs. Because Jason slicked himself up with a disturbing speed and lined up. The warning of blunt pressure against Tim’s hole lasted a fraction of a second and then Jason snapped his hips. Buried to the hilt.

Tim almost passed out.

He didn’t know if it was from the pain, the blood loss, or his body’s inability to get oxygen into his lungs. Everything exploded inside of Tim. He was full, so full so fast. Jason’s fingers hadn’t been nearly kind enough to properly stretch Tim for Jason’s size. It almost felt like being stabbed.

Over and over, as Jason fucked into Tim with no kindness. 

A hard slap across Tim’s face forced him off of the edge of unconsciousness. He gasped, eyes snapping open to find Jason’s face right above his, the glowing eyes of the mask taking over Tim’s field of vision. 

Jason was smiling. Blood on his teeth, dripping out of his mouth. Was it his blood or Tim’s?

Tim hoped it was both. 

“I don’t know which Bruce would find more pathetic,” Jason groaned as he fucked into Tim, pulling small screams out of Tim with each punch of his cock, “you putting on that suit, or you letting me fuck you in it.” He brought his lips to Tim’s ear. “Who’s ruining his legacy now?”

If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, Jason knew exactly how to rip open the wounds of Tim’s emotional pain alongside it. Tim cried out at the thought. 

What would Bruce think of him, like this? Pathetic and barely human underneath Jason Todd?

“And they call me the failed Robin,” Jason just kept talking, like he wasn’t destroying Tim from the inside out. “At least I know how to be something other than Robin. Are you really delusional enough to think you’re going to be the next Batman?” A long moan came out of him and he thrust even harder until Tim screamed loud enough to make himself dizzy. “Answer me.”

Tim just shook his head. “No.” His voice was broken. His throat was sore from screaming, but the word still came out. He’d never thought he really could be Batman. So what the hell was he thinking, putting this suit on?

“Good.” Jason slid his fingers under the bat symbol on Tim’s chest, one of the only parts of the suit in tact. He ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly in Tim’s ears. “It’s good you know your fucking place.” Jason changed his angle, finding Tim’s battered prostate again. Tim didn’t have the air in his lungs to scream anymore. All he could do was weakly mewl and whimper.

He could die like this. He honestly might. Tim had no idea how his body was holding on, in this state. Maybe it was the pain and pleasure alone keeping him alive. Just so he could soak up every touch from Jason.

Tim was never going to allow himself to do this again. So he had to enjoy it while it lasted.

This time, Tim felt his orgasm creeping up on him. His fingers dug into Jason’s arm and he pressed up into Jason’s warmth. The material of Jason’s suit was rough and unforgiving. It didn’t feel particularly good for Tim to grind his cock against, but he didn’t care. He needed any kind of friction, whether it brought him pleasure or road rash. 

“I won’t stop if you come,” Jason warned, still hammering into Tim at a pace that should’ve been impossible for a normal human to manage. “This isn’t to make you feel good. It’s to put you in your fucking place.”

Tim could only whine, managing a nod of understanding. This was his place. He knew that. He never wanted to leave it. 

The threat of being fucked into overstimulation hung over Tim’s head, but he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the high of his orgasm. He almost wanted to feel the overstimulation. Like his orgasm was just something to get over with so Tim could completely give himself over to Jason. To be used just for Jason’s pleasure, even if it brought him nothing but more pain. 

That thought made Tim’s balls tighten. The only warning he could give Jason was a high pitched keen that barely sounded like Tim’s own voice. His eyes rolled back.

The pleasure of his orgasm didn’t overtake the screaming pain in the rest of his body. It just mixed with the pain, swirling into one intense feeling Tim didn’t have a name for. He screamed until his throat gave out. His back arched and he clenched around Jason, who kept driving into him. Jason growled in Tim’s ear. He was holding Tim’s hip so tight there would be bruises that would end up indistinguishable from the rest of Tim’s injuries.

All injuries that Jason gave Tim. Tim’s body was a canvass, and Jason’s favorite color to paint with was the red that poured out of Tim. 

It was the best orgasm Tim had ever felt. No feeling was ever going to match this intensity. 

Tim came down from his high with an awful wheeze, shuddering. He clung to Jason, like a guard dog laying at the feet of his master. 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned. A shudder ran down his spine and his pace faltered, just for a moment. “You’re really something else, Drake.” From Jason, that was practically a compliment for Tim to soak up and preen under. 

Tim’s body tipped over the edge of overstimulation. His survival instincts kicked in, trying to fight Jason. There was no strength behind his kicks and hits. They just made Jason laugh as Tim made a fool of himself.

“I own you,” Jason reminded Tim. He caught Tim’s wrist and pinned it against the cold concrete, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation to Tim’s fingers. “I can do whatever I want to your useless body. Don’t try to fight it now.” He leaned down and found an exposed part of Tim’s neck to sink his teeth into. It wasn’t a hickey, but a proper bite, breaking Tim’s skin. 

Tim cried out, but still tilted his head to the side to give Jason better access to his neck. Even when his body wanted to fight, Tim managed to submit. Like the submission was natural to him. 

The pain took over. Tim just floated in it, forcing himself to go limp. Submit. No more fighting. He gave in to Jason and stopping thinking. All Tim needed to do was feel. Feel every point of agony scattered across his body. Feel Jason fucking him. Using him, like Tim was nothing more than a toy. The sparks from Jason slamming into his sweet spot couldn’t be called pleasure anymore, with Tim’s cock spent and limp. It was more pain. 

Better that way. Tim liked the pain more. Delicious and mind-numbing. 

Jason was swearing against Tim’s skin. He mumbled something Tim didn’t catch. Three syllables. Short and rushed out. Tim was almost convinced the second word was love. Maybe he was making it up in his head though, finally lost in utter delirium.

Tim didn’t care.

More insults fell from Jason’s lips. Calling Tim nothing, worthless, pathetic. A cheap pretender who deserved this. Tim agreed with all of it, feverishly nodding. The words were practically sweet nothings in Tim’s ears. 

Jason yelled Tim’s name when he came. His hips stuttered to a stop, buried deep inside of Tim. He knew Jason was coming inside of him, but his body was too battered to feel Jason’s cum filling his insides. Shame that was. Tim wanted to know how it felt, to be claimed by Jason in this carnal way.

They were both so perfectly still, for two people who had been shaking and clawing at each other just moments ago. The only noise was heavy breathing that echoed through the night.

Tim swallowed. He tried to find himself through the pain. He worked through the body checklist that Bruce gave him. Vision. Smell. Taste. Feel. Sound. All the sensations clashed against each other, out of focus and pounding against Tim’s skull.

It was so hard to think.

Tim groaned. Focus. 

Like cold water thrown on his face, he clawed his way out of subspace. Tim got a good look at Jason’s face.

“Are you crying?” Tim voiced the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 

With the mask, it was hard to tell. Jason’s breathing was shuddered, hitching on every inhale. Tim wouldn’t call it sobbing, but it was close enough for Tim to study Jason’s face. The wetness coming out from under Jason’s mask wasn’t red. It streaked through the blood. 

Tear tracks. 

Jason’s completely rational response was to punch Tim in the face.

Tim swore and curled in on himself, cupping his nose. If it wasn’t broken before, it was now. Jason pulled out of Tim without any care and stood up, leaving him curled up on the ground, trying to set the broken bone and manage the bleeding.

Tim tried to sit up. His arms and legs gave out under him and he slammed back to the ground with a pained noise. He looked up at Jason, squinting. Watching as Jason tucked himself back into his pants, then snatched his gloves off the ground to put them back on.

Despite clearly losing the fight, Tim had done a number on Jason. Jason’s face was bloody and his suit was ripped and torn in some places. He looked like he had been mauled by a wild animal.

If that was how Jason looked, Tim couldn’t imagine what the sight of his own body was.

His second attempt to sit up worked. Now, he compartmentalized. Forced the pain deep into the corners of his mind and locked it up. 

Tim had to be functional now. He couldn’t let the regret and shame get to him.

“I-“ Jason started to say something. It was only one word, but it sounded uncharacteristically soft, making Tim straighten his back and hold his breath. But Jason cleared his throat and folded his arms, stamping down whatever kindness had almost come out. “I’ll throw you a bone. If any of the Bats find you like this you can just tell them I raped you,” he said it like some kind of mean joke.

Tim didn’t say anything. That wasn’t true. They both knew it.

“Preserve your precious dignity you care so much about, huh?” Jason continued. He sounded unsure of himself and he turned away from Tim. 

“Jason-“ Tim reached out for him. “We can still-“ he struggled for the words. “It doesn’t have to end like this. You can still change. I’ll-“

“Don’t,” Jason snapped. He kicked away Tim’s hand. “We both know it’s too late for that.” He started to walk away. “Never wear that suit again, Drake. I’d hate to see you die to someone that isn’t me.” He almost sounded… protective? Tim wouldn’t call it fondness, but maybe something close to that. Tim refused to allow himself to read into it. Whoever Jason Todd had become, he was someone that Tim couldn’t save. He was someone who didn’t want to be saved, no matter how Tim felt about him. Tim had to accept that, even with Jason’s cum deep inside him. Some truths were immutable. 

Then, Jason was gone. Vanishing into the shadows and leaving Tim there.

Tim tilted his head back. He allowed himself thirty seconds. He counted them. Thirty seconds to sit in his own filth and feel the pain for just a little longer, before he had to move and figure out how he was going to get home in one piece without anyone finding out what happened here.

Just ten more seconds.

Five. 

Three.

One.

With grit teeth and a deep breath, Tim stood up.

[bumofthewild]

my really really long rant about endwalker

i'm not kidding this is really long. spoilers ahead of course, like immediately upon entry. sorry i sound so angry the whole time

unfortunately for me and for anyone reading this, endwalker is one of those cases where i like/d so much of what happens that the many weak moments make me more critical of the whole than i would be if it was just wholly bad like stormblood, bc it's a waste of potential. a lot of the time the moments i liked would even be happening simultaneously with the things i find so problematic: cheap storytelling decisions, cheap moments that only serve as fanservice or for shock value that only detract from a characters’ pre-existing complexity, poorly done rehashing of elements from shadowbringers, a lot of hollow pseudo-intellectual arguments, rushed and underdeveloped writing in one instance and then meandering wastes of time immediately after….these issues are so consistent that rather than try to break up endwalker's story based on these things, i will just try to run thru the whole thing chronologically and hope i don't get too repetitive. that's why this isn't an essay with some pretense of structure. i'll do my best.

what's crazy to me is i thought endwalker was going to be my second favourite expansion. this was despite not caring about its original main conflict--i thought fandaniel just wasn't a compelling or even interesting villain. he comes out of nowhere. and he's also asahi so that association is hard to break away from bc i find asahi silly. and he suffers from the same writing issues zenos does, where nearly every cutscene with them did little to develop their characters further from the baseline, only reiterated what i already know bc they literally never say anything else: zenos wants to fight wol, he's bored with everything life could possibly offer, fandaniel will ensure zenos can fight wol through his towers bc he no longer plays to the tune of his unsundered masters... even though what fandaniel was promising to cause were the final days i just didn't really care. in the wake of shadowbringers the final days are like a pretty big deal, but something about reviving a catastrophe i had just finished wrapping up--i thought, naively--made bringing them back seem really thoughtless. i don't really need to see anymore final days...like how much more do i need to understand how bad it was? i mean i think shb did a pretty good job????? of making the final days seem pretty fucking bad. why not come up with something new because this is endwalker and not shadowbringers haha? the only fresh thing about this new uncooler final days was the motivation behind them. fandaniel wanting to bring about the final days bc he wants to die and thinks everything should die with him vs emet-selch's unwillingness to die no matter what bc the final days took everything from him and he needs to bring it all back. still, recontextualising the final days from a past event into a present issue ruins them to me. whatever, i thought, there's no way we're letting the final days happen so what does this matter anyways. there's no way.

so yeah post-shb into ew was starting to lose me plot-wise. not the end of the world (LOL?) though bc the atmosphere in the beginning was so subtle and fresh and rich like dew in the morning that i was willing to look past it. going to old sharlayan i liked a lot. i liked going there not as a more typical homecoming for your friends but to instead uncover the sharlayan forum's cryptic behaviour. this kind of intrigue was what i really wanted after the grandness of shadowbringers and i really do think endwalker gave me that for a while. i liked the opening scene on the ship a lot bc it felt exciting and uncertain and new, especially talking to hydaelyn. i liked how she had become such an unstable variable after originally being the most anchoring presence in the entire game: learning she's a primal, whether she's actually “good” after listening to emet-selch’s explanation of her origins and actions in shb, and the fact that her appeals to her champions have been fewer and fewer… i thought her meeting with you at the very beginning of endwalker was cool and foreboding. i also really liked the emet-selch narration btw, i thought that was a fun choice. who better to guide you into the final stages of your adventure than the person who left you with that final, most important task. i wish this had been the only callback to his character at all. 

so a big part of why i like/d endwalker so much is all that atmosphere. and something i can't really put into words. it just felt cool and cohesive at the start. old sharlayan is one of my favourite locations now; i like that despite its rigidity and (to me farcical but w/e tangent) pursuit of rationality/knowledge, there's the quaint island charm and fresh winter sea and overgrown greenery and forest paths. i liked that the game enhanced the usual hubworld tour chore by having g’raha and krile follow you around to give you more personal anecdotes of the place, really gave it a more lived-in feeling, which really added to both them and the location. i also really liked all this charm and familiarity in tandem with the secret hostility of the place bc of the forum, having to sneak around and so on, sharlayan citizens not really recognising you somehow? but being very aware of a warrior of light threat to their way of life, even if i find that non-intervention way of life silly.

i also really liked labryinthos. it's a really creative place. i liked its uncanny false sky and controlled environment, and yet all the people scrambling about inside. and the music felt kind of magical like i had encountered another fairy area or something idk it all felt very whimsical. thavnair i really liked as well but i feel like my immediate impression of the place was kind of poisoned by the stereotypes, like the huge focus on trade and the first impression being undercutting foreign tourists but then i started to really enjoy the part where you run around with matsya and help him sell fish. i liked the mundanity and slow pace of that exercise bc it felt like a much more involved way of learning about thavnair and its current issues through conversations rather than the fetch quest slog, and this is one of the things i like a lot about the beginning of endwalker. the gameplay really improved i think bc they found more creative ways of having you interact with your surroundings, rather than having the usual running between npcs to fetch things for them or other chores. like rather than doing a string of quests and then being rewarded with development of the story, the gameplay simultaneously develops the story. like turning into frogs i thought was fun, testing nidhana’s aether lamp was fun, etc. it felt like they had better ideas about how to progress the in-between parts.

thavnair quickly started to upset me though bc it started to feel like the only relevance the location had was what they could give you for your military cause, that is, the scales. like alchemy is this place’s big highlight and its just the scales the scales the scales and the tower aughhhhhh!!!!!!! the tower!!!!!!!!!! i wish they had focused on something but i guess this is just to be expected with ffxiv...any interaction with a foreign ("foreign" as far as square enix eorzea is concerned) culture really boils down to how they might bolster your military efforts, the azim steppe for eg. so it felt like my concern for an individual (matsya) and the experience firsthand trying to help him with his day to day; the idea that every single person on earth is important and shouldn't be made to suffer, and helping that single person... was like overshadowed by something more focused on a “greater good", that is, the construction of the scales to defeat the towers to save the world ad infinitum. but if you played endwalker then you would know how this idea of only concerning oneself with a "greater good" and this diluting of the importance of an individual's life for the sake of this idealistic whole causes some problems for a certain someone..................so why didn't the game focus more on these themes? probably because at the end of the day it's a video game by square enix and you need a big boss to fight or something or bc this expansion is insanely unfocused i don't know. i feel like this concept about the importance of the small things that can add up to one life and how that one life is beautiful and important crops up with the significance of weeds despite its importance overall. i don't know if i think this is one of the main underlying themes of endwalker just poorly executed so as to not even be there or if i just wish it was one of its main themes. anyways i'm getting distracted, what i mean to say is thavnair gets dehumanised throughout the entire expansion in the most horrific ways possible so i guess this was just the start

moving on... i liked the part in garlemald a lot, which i didn't expect bc i don't expect this game to handle anything regarding imperialism well. i liked that the garlemald you finally experience, after it being one of your main enemies and this very proud nation, was just this dead quiet and ruined place. the quest where you follow that girl is another eg of how the gameplay was a bit more immersive, i think it helped me feel the loneliness and the danger of the place, that i could be a danger to this girl. that i really had to try if i wanted to help her. what i didn't like was alphinaud's and alisaie’s babying attitude towards the garleans? like ok yeah of course we’re gonna have patience and grace for GARLEMALD meanwhile lyse was losing her head at the ala mhigans whenever they disagreed with her. like sure arguing won't get anywhere but it felt like the twins were reckoning with children sometimes, it was so strange. but i did like that the game didn't shy away from making the garleans just unpleasant to be around at best, and an actual danger to you at worst. it's just better to me to make them harder to reconcile with so that there's no frustrating cheap shots at redemption but rather a good, sobering look at a society that's been totally and willingly misled. and i liked that alisaie's and alphinaud's attempts to help those garlean kids ended so badly, even though i'm not usually a fan of such cruel outcomes. it felt like we were seeing a garlemald not necessarily being punished for its actions more than we were seeing a place built on shitty ideals crumble bc of those ideals. i thought jullus was a good char and helped to carry that idea of disillusionment forward. i didn't care so much about sympathising with what he'd lost, but i did find it interesting how they contrast him with the legatus he's working under, who even while the place is in ruins is still more concerned with war than providing for the people relying on him. i don't think the part in garlemald is perfect by any means, like it doesn't do anything too brave, but ig it was a lot more subtle and complex in its storytelling than i expected. and it wasn't meaninglessly cruel. like i'm glad those shock collars put on the twins were only used to gauge jullus' emotional growth or something like him not wanting to activate them rather than them actually being fucking used which would have just made me close the game and not look back.

from here on is where i struggle to lock in for the rest of the story. starting with when zenos kidnaps you in the midst of the fighting at camp broken glass--i don't think i have ever been more immediately mentally locked out of a story. endwalker is darker than usual, trapping people in fleshy towers, two young girls lying dead on the ice, tentacles erupting out of tempered garlean soldiers... and so on. and while i don't personally like things that are overly dark or cruel, it's not that i think they're bad, just that with moments like that it's a lot better imo that a point is being made or they add something to the story, and that it doesn't feel soullessly random or disrespectful. unfortunately this stops being the case for the rest of the expansion..... like something about the weird eldritch feeling of fandaniel pulling you out of your body and putting you in a random soldier's was throwing me off immensely. it felt like i was playing a different game, like so disconcerting i found it distracting, because why would he not just do this to screw you over more often? i didn't understand them having access to such an unrestrained power. at the same time it was also just too wacky to really take seriously despite the apparent gravity of what was happening. zenos inside of my bunny girl's body??? i don't even understand why they did it? to piss you off?? the duty where you play as the imperial soldier was interesting i guess but i couldn’t understand what the meaning behind being made to struggle through that experience was... like didn't we just spend all that time sympathising with the garleans and wrap that section up already? why do i now need to sympathise with/experience firsthand what its like to be a garlean footsoldier? and it annoyed me because these parts felt emotionally rich, like stumbling across those garleans fighting that machine and trying to do your best to help them; dragging yourself across the ground to get to your friends before something bad happens to them, and running towards them before zenos hurts them while in your body--i thought all of that could've been really poignant if not for the actual situation being so silly?? they could have just kept some of those ideas, wol dragging themselves across the ground for eg--the extent to which they're willing to stop harm from reaching their friends (which reminds me of what vrtra says to you about the importance of protecting your friends the first time you meet him. but that was such a one-off moment that goes nowhere... i just wish ew would pick something, anything, to be a poignant message about love on planet earth if they want nihilism to be the main villain, and just stick to it)--and do something that felt a lot more relevant to the established story thus far? just felt totally pointless

what makes this worse is this ridiculous part is iirc right after fandaniel reveals that the entity tempering all of the garleans is varis reanimated as an ancient oh-so-important primal...?? like here's (what i thought was going to be) an actually important point in the story being sidelined for a moment that just goes absolutely nowhere. they certainly made it seem important for a moment, and i think this would've rounded off what was being said about garlemald well; the garleans are so taken in by the farce of their homeland that they think varis is calling them to reclaim their country over the radio, but all along what's actually causing their nation to fall apart is this monstrous version of their late emperor. the irony would've been interesting but they just do nothing with it... (i think desecrating a dead person's corpse by turning it into a monster is really weird btw, even weirder that they do it for no reason. whatever ew is weird.) i thought, considering that this plotline was being established from before endwalker started, that anima was going to take some time. not so. ffxiv would rather have you and zenos enact tropes from a disney channel movie. you merk that guy at the end of the tower of babil and from then on every important plot point the expansion could possibly have moves at fucking mach 567472838758745745

because why all of a sudden are you getting beamed up to the moon? and fighting ZODIARK? i was so confused when asahi i mean fandaniel was punching shit into that fuckgin allagan computer like fandaniel what the fuck are you talking about... i couldn't process anything that happened here. like i'll willingly put aside boring practicalities like why anyone can breathe on the moon, but not so much how fast this all happened and how out of nowhere--is this the reason fandaniel is also amon btw? so that he can use their allagan computers to do this? bc i honestly can’t find any other reason why him being amon is relevant when they revealed that in the tower of zot...like i dont get why that's important

and it doesn't get better after this is the sad thing to me. it doesn't pick itself back up. it is just extremely unfocused right until the endwalker. i was willing to move past getting rid of zodiark so quickly because it's not that i hold standard storytelling rules so dearly in my heart that i need the biggest final boss of the entire series to get a bit more gravitas. it actually ended up being a pretty interesting decision--dispatching the largest villain at the heart of the game being the catalyst for the biggest catastrophe you've ever heard of. like i like that wol gets played. but the entire mare lamentorum section that follows is disrespectful. this expansion suffers from some extreme tonal dissonance, bc how does wol learn that the final days are now upon them and then proceed to spend their time leisurely touring the moon rabbit facility to tell them that the clothes they’ve made for humans to wear isn’t fashionable? why on god's green earth does that matter at this current juncture? this part is one of the worst story-writing sinkholes in the expansion to me, bc why are the discrepancies between what the loporrits know of humanity vs what humanity is actually like something the story chooses to grapple with? we're building an ark to save humanity, and instead of approaching this in a contemplative or emotional way, the point of conflict they choose is logistics? in the expansion about nihilism? at best this conflict was overly realistic..... mostly it's just boring, and at worst the FINAL DAYS are now upon us, so why am i taste-testing carrots? how could the sharlayans, the most focused group of people on the entire planet, have been collaborating with the loporrits for decades and not even have one of the most basic aspects of staying alive squared away? i’m supposed to not only believe that nobody knew after all that time the lopporits think people only eat carrots, but also waste time on fixing this? whyyyyy would they even devote any time to this at all when there are so many more complicated and interesting ideas that they let flounder bc they rush through them at breakneck pace constantly? we just fucking killed zodiark! is this why they stick urianger up there to do all the fixing actually? to save time offscreen? maybe that's why they chose this asinine chunk of the story to start processing his character? though why they would choose to add more to a plate they can barely balance i don't know. i don’t even feel like getting into what they did with urianger bc it will just piss me off. i think only my love for rabbits and how i will never ever not find urianger precious were stopping me from putting a hex on square enix

the following section of the story is easily the worst part to me in the entire game. like i would rather replay stormblood multiple times in a row than ever sit through the final days coming to thavnair ever again. i've already said bringing back the final days would just be bad; a disservice to the time spent on it in shadowbringers. what more is there to say on that front? nothing. and the way ew utilises the final days tells me that the answer is nothing. it just wanted to unleash the violence of that event on the non-white area and spends an insane amount of time doing it. i can think of no other time in this game where there is so much wanton death and destruction for no useful storytelling reason other than to relish in the cheap shock of witnessing violence, violence they are unwilling to inflict on its white areas, because even in garlemald you only see the aftermath of what happens rather than being in the midst of it. it was actually making me feel fatigued. it was just so much of the same thing over and over with no real meaning to any of it. and that's not to say that meaning justifies suffering, but this is a game.....with a story... first and foremost? there needs to be some kind of reason to move the story forward? but nothing new or inspired is being said, just "the final days are really bad"

i’m actually not even sure where to begin so i’ll start with a glaring issue: i hate that people turn into abominations. people “randomly” turning into monsters just feels too unwieldy--how could there be any sense whatsoever that that situation is controllable? even learning that it's caused by feelings of despair is shit because emotions are so vague, how could there be any worthwhile attempt to control your emotions, let alone while watching your loved ones turn into/be eaten by monsters? this entire part felt so wildly out of hand/unpredictable to me that every single moment onward that wasn't more or less focused on maintaining this extremealy volatile situation felt like an unforgivable lack of priorities. it was extremely distracting to have it hovering over everything; everything else felt absolutely inconsequential in comparison. bc what the fuck do you mean people are randomly turning into monsters?? also the stakes were already really high just knowing the final days were coming, so raising them that much higher felt unnecessary to the point of it being hard to believe. and then bc you know there's no way any character important to wol is going to turn into a monster, subjecting commonfolk npcs to this just feels absurdly cruel, and also just made it obvious how much of a cheap scare it all was, bc it can't have any real narrative importance as a result of only happening to random npcs. it was all so blatantly fake-deep. there was no meaning behind them originally being people except for the useless horror of it--the scions still referred to them as monsters to be put down rather than as the people they used to be, just like any other monster in this game. dynamis was more of a retroactive explanation for why people turned into monsters, rather than people turning into monsters bolstering any understanding of dynamis. in shb the sin eaters had some method to them that made them more believable. you fight them throughout the story rather than them just being dropped on you midway through, they helped provide a picture of what kind of world the first was, they were emotional diving boards for characters like alisaie to develop personal goals and so on and so forth... the horror of the sin eaters had a narrative purpose. in endwalker it feels like they didn’t know what to do but wanted to replicate parts of shadowbringers, but didn't know why those parts worked so well bc they're too obsessed with trying to shock their audience. this part just sucked beyond description.

and it just continues to get worse. how can you be the one writing the parametres of a situation and you create something that's literally unmanageable, so that when its only manageable bc you need it to be, it's just so obviously shit writing? my sister described endwalker's writing as really contrived, like when they need something to happen (and that thing is often a really bad idea) they just shove it in there at the cost of keeping their characters in character, or having their story threads--both the interesting ones and the stupid ones--fall totally flat. she says they shortcut the writing. and it's true. for eg, the characters literally don't feel like themselves at times, or get utilised in really moronic ways. like when wol just watches the satrap die, another cheap scare btw he literally gets grabbed an eaten in a way my sis (i was ranting to her a lot about this game ok) described as straight from attack on titan. just gets grabbed and eaten. and this happens to him for such asinine reasons: 1. so that this random asf plot point of vrtra revealing himself as the true satrap can bear fruit. for some fucking reason. i struggle to understand why this is important at all but i guess it's yet another little sideplot that ew just can't seem to resist adding to its already towering plate at the plot buffet, like whatever is going on with urianger and moenbryda's parents/the loporrits, or zenos who now spends most of his time offscreen, or the twins and their father, etc, bc ew likes to waste time 2. so that g'raha (???????????????????????) out of fucking nowhere can have a big boy moment and direct the scions and the people of thavnair in their time of need. what on earth was that scene supposed to be? fanservice? a reminder that g'raha was a leader back in the first? which blows my mind bc mere moments before he had a scene i really enjoyed despite the circumstances, where after a man witnesses his son get turned into a beast and then stepped on by another beast because endwalker is literally jacking itself off to suffering and expects me to be doing the same... g’raha goes up to this man and stops him from panicking and turning into a monster himself. while i don't think any of this should be happening, i thought it was a nice take on his character to have a more sensitive moment in such a harrowing situation. i don't know, have a character demonstrate some emotional skills instead of the usual fighting ones. ofc all of this i thought mere moments before disaster. why was any of this necessary? literally why not just have the satrap, i don't know, take charge of his country when he's needed most, even if he's only been a figurehead the whole time? why let him go out so horribly when he obvious loves his people with his whole heart just so that vrtra can step in without any sort of conflict? i don't understand the focus on vrtra at all

and it actually just keeps getting worse.. the following part where you have to find matsya's friends at palaka's stand was awful. the friends have a newborn baby, so it's obvious that only that baby is surviving bc ew is convinced you don't know how harsh the world is yet. that must be why this part is so long? i'm repeating myself but so many other things that shouldn't be rushed get rushed, only for ew to devote a lot of time to sections like this where nothing changes or develops except for compounding how bad it all feels. i think it was at this point actually, that i realised endwalker actually had some underlying point it was trying to make. it would've been impossible not to realise bc of how heavy-handed it is. i'm not even going to try and paraphrase bc it was so random the way it was introduced i thought i had missed some lines of dialogue or something when it happened:

the suddenness of this felt like when a writer forsakes trying to show what a story is about and instead opts to speak to their audience directly through poorly disguised self-inserts. like i know things are bad right now guys, but the preaching tone of this is jarring. like maybe if you spent some time trying to develop your themes you wouldn't have to be doing this endwalker. i know you need your final villain to literally parrot these ideas for the rest of the game, but if this was supposed to be such a core point of the story why wait all the way until now to just beat me over the head with it? was watching a child be crushed underfoot supposed to make elderly man of palaka using the phrase "at journey's end" seem profound?

anyways then you go and try to save matsya’s friend (the mother bc the father has now died, of course). this leads us to another forced decision that doesn’t make any sense: alisaie and alphinaud fail to kill a single abomination--just the one solitary abomination that was stalking the poor woman--so that we can see it fling her into the water and her corpse dangling on the surface. in what fucking world do alisaie and alphinaud, who have single-handedly dispatched numerous abominations prior to reaching this point, fail to kill just one of them between the two of them in a way reminiscent of a cartoon, one being knocked into the other and them both falling over? how is that fucking possible? and then to somehow make things worse, because that's still possible, despite the fact that wol spends this entire segment in palaka’s stand being told by alisaie and alphinaud not to leave matsya alone because he can’t fend for himself, the twins suggest sending him back on his own to deliver the baby to palaka's stand? why??????????????????????????????

this is what i mean when i say the characters get used in the most bullshit ways for the most bullshit reasons. it's like the game needs as much suffering as possible to happen so that it can make a worthwhile point on this later on (spoiler: it doesn't) so it pulls shit like this. why would the twins, who we just watched try to spoonfeed the garleans cereleum straight from the tank, leave matsya on his own if not solely bc the story needs the doomerism of the Resolute Citizen to ring true? and this is also what i mean when i say the scions try to manage a disaster that is just not manageable, bc they for some reason believe that bc they've taken care of the abominations they saw in the area, that means the area is safe enough for matsya to go back on his own? like are we just suddenly pretending the nature of these creatures doesn't imply that anyone can turn into one at any moment? everyone is ALWAYS in danger? we're just going to mill around while matsya weathers the most potent fear of his life running back to the village on his own, with the baby of his friends who just died moments before, while we all know that extremely negative emotions cause people to turn into the monsters? why are we doing this after we just went to so much trouble keeping people safe (or failing to, really)? forget turning into monsters for a sec, why are we even letting him experience such painful emotions at all? anyways the fucking baby starts turning into a monster because this is endwalker.. but i will say that matsya running and chanting that little piece up there about how life is suffering to try and convince me it's true calm himself down was one of the cutscenes i liked the most from this entire part, maybe endwalker in general. it was another one of those emotionally poignant and well-executed moments that just suffers from how much i wish it was happening under totally different circumstances. i don't even remember why one of us doesn’t go with him, like i don't remember what we were busy doing bc it was that unimportant--no wait, i remember! we were waiting for matsya to reach the total end of his rope so that when all things seem lost, when those monsters obviously show up on his path back to the village out of nowhere like they've been doing the past painstaking quest after quest of this entire part, estinien and vrtra can get this really cool moment of jumping into save him! it all makes so much sense now. i've never seen estinien do anything really cool before like diving down from the sky with his lance, so i understand how this was a really important moment that the game needed to make happen. also how vrtra really needs to prove to the people he can be a good satrap bc ahewann just died and all. yeah, i totally get it. perfect. just great. 

what is the message behind despair turning you into a monster? we're about to get into it with meteion and try to convince her she's wrong--come out championing the idea that suffering is just one of the many aspects of life we need to accept, and yet we're going to preface that with a part where to feel despair is bad? you get punished if you do it? honestly?

whatever. elpis...we go here because we need to learn about the elpis flower. i'm thinking we're definitely just going to ask the watcher, right? like the guy on the moon who told us the name of the flower in the first place? and time is of the fucking essence here, so surely we just go back to the watcher and ask him what we need to know and come back? wrong. we're going back to the first. to talk to elidibus. i thought we killed elidibus? does nobody truly die in this game except for my favourite character? so wol gets sent back to the first, and there's this upbeat tonally dissonant little section where you catch up with some old friends like beq lugg and those kids you helped back in shb bc now is just the perfect time for pleasantries and remembering how good shadowbringers was. ew trying to relive shadowbringers was already something i was feeling out in thavnair fighting leagues of "terminus" creatures and not "forgiven" ones, and watching the carefully constructed horror and gravity of the final days get reduced to an average apocalyptic shitshow. so i can't say i appreciated this part. also people are indiscriminately turning into monsters. i can't help but have that hang over everything constantly until the end of the expansion.

anyways we go to the crystal tower and drag out elidibus even though i personally prefer when characters have their final moments and are properly laid to rest. like i hate to not only beat a dead horse but also reanimate said horse and then drag its corpse around. well fuck what i want. so elidibus willingly does this favour for us i guess and sends us to the past somehow with some useless warnings about how we won't be able to interact with our surroundings or change the past. i say useless because the former is just untrue, i'm not sure why he bothered to say it. the moment we step foot on elpis you get a nice gift of aether from emet-selch that renders you tangible and now you can proceed to live love laugh with him and hythlodaeus on elpis even though people are indiscriminately dying back home. and the latter warning, well. i don't know, that just seemed obvious. i'm kind of just a hater.

time to be positive again for a short moment, if you can believe it? emet-selch is one of my favourite characters. i enjoyed this new light cast on him...for a short while. i like his relationship with hythlodaeus and i really like hythlodaeus; i’m really fond of the faceless simulacrum version of him you meet in shb and i'm really fond of him now. learning about the unsundered world in person rather than through hearsay was interesting, and although i can't lie and say i don't think this all kind of felt like a huge tangent despite the important aspects of the plot that come out of it, i still like it. i guess it feels this way because a lot of big plot points have already been established, like the ark on the moon and the sharlayans' involvement and the final days, so this was all kind of too big to me to be coming this late into the story. it doesn't feel all that relevant to prior parts of the expansion either except for hermes, who has been poorly developed throughout, so okay, i get it. it's time to give one of the main villains some depth (i want you to guess if this is successful or not). hermes has a lot of qualities i really like. has a child, secretly nurturing a potent sadness, thinks differently from the world around him because at his core he’s too deeply empathetic…. even though i was still largely aware of the insanity happening back at home which i'm going to keep repeating, i still enjoyed elpis At The Start. the exposition of this part was easily better than its resolution. it was taking the time to develop hermes’ character so that you could see if the game was written well anyhow how he became the fandaniel of the present. i really liked his relationship with meteion too. it's getting hard to talk about what i like without simultaneously talking about what i don't like so i'm going back to criticising now, positivity over, sorry....

personally, i’d have been totally fine without any more development to emet-selch’s character. i think it was nice to see a fresh perspective on him and all, really rounds out who he is from what you know and what he talks about in shadowbringers. and i actually like a lot of the things he said throughout, not all of it, but a good amount of it was fun and sorely needed whenever hermes was being annoying, which was often. but there was a lot of times wehere i thought, i don't really need to be hanging out with emet-selch right now? i don't need my wol and emet-selch to be friends? considering who he is....? .............and what's going on back home? how many more moments showing how endearingly prickly he is do i need to see? like sure, i can enjoy this emet-selch fest in isolation of what's going on because me love emet-selch like it's not like i think these moments are bad or anything but i don't know, don't we have other things to be doing? i'm not diametrically opposed to fanservice, i like when things are kept fresh and lighthearted. but. well you know by now. about the people turning into monsters. i guess i just both enjoyed this part and wished it happened under different circumstances or in a different way or something, or maybe not at all, bc as things progress his character just gets more and more diluted.

i actually really liked meteion. i will say i’m really tired of non-human, overly childish girl children creature characters who become villains, because i think there's this concept where…idk how to say it? i wish i could find something that talks about this more... it's like the dehumanisation involved when non-binary characters or non-white characters are often not human (not that these things are done in the same way). but i feel like women or females ig are often the ones chosen to be non-human in this particular way...? like, when emotional labour is involved. or when it needs to be some taboo evil entity. it's like a guy and his part-animal female second lead or part-alien love interest or female-voiced ai system or android or abandoned girl he finds/rescues. it's kind of like the born sexy yesterday trope but without the blatant sexuality (i don't want to go on a tangent). quite often this weird quirky alien and playful girl child is a harbinger of destruction. take drakengard, for example, or fire emblem engage, or cc from code geass iirc, or veronica from fire emblem heroes.. there's apparently something about childishness and girlishness and innocence and corrupting that innocence or being fooled by that innocence that seems to incite fear of the unknown enough in people for villainous children to be a trope in general regardless of gender, but it was just something i was thinking about in regards to meteion's character, especially when she becomes evil. and this blurry line between her as a "being" with a consciousness and free well as GIVEN to her by hermes, and her as a "tool" to be used by him as well, doesn't really get addressed in any meaningful way at all. like sure, she doesn't need to eat but she can still enjoy candy apples and flowers, and can empathise bc often of her own volition she wants to cheer hermes up, but actually her ability to empathise is programmed; so let's send send her, this highly empathetic being (with consciousness and free will and tastes and personality) into the cold expanse of space for as long as it takes for hermes to find his answer, that's totally fine. why did he make it a girl? why couldn't they address the fact that the loneliest bastard in this entire game made himself a child? like i'm not saying there needs to be clear-cut definitions on what meteion is or why she or hermes take certain actions, but it feels like a lot of things regarding their characters are really complex and implied to be really deep, and then just don't go anywhere or are completely ignored or unexplained? and because these things are so present yet passed over, it leaves me genuinely confused about most of what happens on elpis and how these two specifically reach any of the conclusions they do once things start going south

like i thought what she and hermes were going to add to the story was going to be a lot more interesting and complex than what it turned out to be.....a banal mantra on the "mercy" of nihilism. i can barely reconcile what bothers hermes in the first place with what meteion concludes from her sisters' expeditions, like they almost feel irrelevant to each other. he's upset over man's lording over who deserves to live and the callousness of making and unmaking life. he feels sadder about the coming death of his friend than the average ancient, and doesn't want to accept meaningless platitudes about dying for the good of the star. ok, i agree with that. so he wants to know what meaning there is to life, if it can be so easily judged and discarded...? okay. so his answer is to....secretly create creatures without any of the rigourous testing they usually go through to prevent them from being dangerous, and then send them on a potentially dangerous and traumatising mission to answer his vague philosophical questions? like.......? so when she reports back traumatised and tells him every single society out there is suffering (which i just find so unbelievable btw), then the answer to his question must be that suffering is the meaning of life--which she figures bc she's an entelechy so i imagine she's highly susceptible to her emotional surroundings, and because his pseudo-intellectual question is so poorly framed (something only emet-selch points out in a throwaway line btw). and this alone spurs him on to allowing meteion to unmake their entire society in the most violent way conceivable? you literally tell him that the final days are coming as a result of his actions, but he's fine with it because he'd rather that than enact some policy changes at his workplace, or talking to someone? everyone seemed to listen and respect his decision when he suggested helping that creature learn to fly instead of just killing it, i'm sure he could've talked it out? isn't he in charge of the place? this entire section was so hard for me to follow bc i kept thinking something more complex was making everyone behave the way they were, when it was actually just totally senseless.

as an aside, i hate how they chose to make the way meteion reports information so cooly technological btw, it felt not only anachronistic but corny. i’m sure there's a better way to have her impartially report things without making her sound like she's reporting weather conditions on some distant planet in star trek. anyways, when you frantically search for meteion after she receives her transmission was another part that took up a lot of time for no reason. it just made everything feel so dire when i could barely understand why any of what was going on was such a big deal. and i’ll never be one to say that any bureau of anything should “detain” anyone, but why hermes was so frantic to prevent meteion from being brought to the convocation i just don't know. like he goes on the run with her so that he can hear the end of her report? is that really it? i just find it hypocritical that he doesn't want her to be sent to the convocation where they'll limit her free will or fucking whatever but he's totally fine with ordering the meteia into space? why am i being made to guess what the convocation is going to do to meteion when hermes is making it seem like such a big deal?? what fucking sense does that make? what on earth was he afraid of? their judgment? the convocation members deciding whether meteion is good for the star or not? could they not have just reasoned this out? aren’t they a "highly advanced" and "reasonable" society? like okay he sees through the veil of his utopian home but i just did not get a sense of how much it was bothering him at all, like i cannot stress enough how him going turbo feels like an insane jump from what his problems seemingly were. why did nobody stop to think this through or communicate to each other? is it because of the bullshit time paradox this game has trapped us in so that nothing we do will amount to anything anyways so we might as well make the most confused villain of all time be responsible for the biggest event in this game's history?

but it annoys me because meteion and hermes felt like such a waste of potential, maybe the biggest waste to me in the entire expansion. i was really intrigued by their wholesome relationship at the start, knowing that hermes was a main villain. and that he can't find connection or meaning in an otherwise "perfect" society, so he has to create it for himself and try to find it elsewhere, as far as the reaches of outer space... he wants to make what's hurting him stop hurting him. i like that he approaches such human desires with meteion despite her non-humanness, and that she can return those feelings to him. he wants to signify meteion’s return with a flower because they both like flowers… like those things we can’t put into words but share with others, moments, emotions, connections……..but nope. nihilism beam. it feels like the worst sort of retroactive writing ever. they didn't even think too hard about dynamis--this hugely important thing, except nobody has ever heard of it, aside from nidhana back at home? while members of the highest office in the most advanced society earth has ever had are left squinting.

and the entire section after you fight hermes just pissed me off. we kicked his ass so that we could stop him from inciting meteion any further, and yet we just let him hear her out anyways? he's yelling at you during the entire dungeon that he just wants the time to hear her out, we're chasing after him so that we can stop him from doing that, and then we just let him hear her out anyways? and then even when we do that she doesn’t even say anything different? she just goes right back to reporting on different worlds and how self-destructive they are and That's All She Really Proceeds To Say For The Rest Of The Expansion But Fucking Who Cares Anymore. so we let her repeat herself. this sends her into a spiral, because she's an entelechy who just got hit by a high frequency nihilism beam, but subjecting her to all that despair is only ever addressed by one of the scions in a throwaway line near the very end of the story in ultima thule... and then hermes...captures venat, emet-selch and hythlodaeus??? he captures two of the strongest characters in the game? did we not just kick hermes’ ass??? what is going on?

emet-selch: that's bullshit, and you know it's bullshit

hermes: *says more bullshit*

i really think hermes might be one of the worst villains in the game. it's a shame bc i think he's such an interesting character. i'm not sure why he started behaving like such an incel when he was right to be troubled by the things he was? why did they even bother have wol relate to him over experiencing sadness from loss if that just went totally nowhere? why does he behave so hypocritically? being saddened by loss leads to him setting the stage for the final days? him hating man's jurisdiction over other lives leads to him wiping emet-selch's and hythlodaeus' memories, and subjecting the entire planet to the worst test ever? he's not even morally grey or anything! just annoying! i saw someone say that it's even worse that he wants the ancients to prove that their life is meaningful to them, bc it's true, they do??? like isn't that what venat interrupts them from doing in the answers cutscene, calling back for that lost life? isn't that what you learn in shadowbringers? didn't an entire half of their population sacrifice themselves so that the other half could live? what the fuck else did they need to prove?

this part was pissing me off even more because i never even wanted hythlodaeus or emet-selch to learn about where wol came from or about the final days coming in the first place. i thought that was an awful writing decision. telling them just felt weirdly cruel to me considering elidibus explicitly told you there was nothing you could do to change it. maybe this is just my opinion, but why would anybody want to know that their planet is going to go up in flames and there is nothing they can do to stop it? telling venat i was like sure, she becomes hydaeyln so this makes a little more sense to me, but the other two…….? this is around when i was getting tired of the emet-selch cameo, because i don't really care to know what he thinks of his future self? i couldn't really understand what the point of any of that was? so it annoyed me even further that it amounts to nothing anyways when they get their minds conveniently erased. it felt like a fucking joke. why did we revive these characters, develop them, and then just treat them like tools...? like now that we're done using their powers and creation magicks--i thought, naively--we just toss them aside? like ohhhhh noooooo now they won't remember all the fun we had on elpis this is so sad......but at least before he got his memories wiped emet-selch, even though he definitely totally doesn't believe a fucking word i say, renews his shb vows to wol and leaves the future in my hands again? yeah, i totally wanted to hear him say that a second time. forget how deeply affecting and important a moment that was at the end of shadowbringers. i really needed to see him do that one more time in this shittier, more contrived context. that's really what i needed from endwalker. also i've been on reddit reading what people have to say about endwalker out of curiosity (ppl make a lot of good points that i haven't) and someone pointed out that moments before all this happens venat literally pulls memories from the aether around you so that we can watch hermes send the meteia to space. what on earth is stopping anyone from doing that for hermes, hythlodaeus, and emet-selch? but whatever, i already know the writing doesn't care how silly it is anymore. two of the strongest ancients get bound by a weakened hermes, only break out after the story conveniently needed meteion to start flying into space, and then venats lets her escape somehow even though doing so essentially dooms their entire planet. ok

so we’re back home and we have to go immediately help the thavnarians who are being punished for not being white again. the sharlayans were going to bring them to the teleporter to the moon in garlemald to start getting them on the moon, but oops, the final days have come to garlemald, so now we can't use the teleporter, so if you're thavnarian your life sucks. who saw that coming? absolute waste of time. so then we have to get rid of more beasts because we need to waste even more time doing something we already spent an agonising amount of time doing in thavnair. and then immediately after this we need to......wrap up yet another asinine plot thread endwalker is so obssesed with adding to it's already convoluted story: fourchenault excommunicating his children...? it seemed really important when he did this in post-shb, but materially nothing for alphinaud or alisaie really changed, everyone still gets into sharlayan no problem. ultimately i just didn’t really know why they chose to pursue this mini-plot at all because how many more pushes does alphinaud (i'm saying alphinaud bc he does not share that spotlight with alisaie lmfao) need to become resolute in his goals? he already does this throughout the series? they ruined arenvald's legs in post-shb so that alphinaud could become more resolute in his goals, why keep dedicating time to this? just keep juggling endwalker, just keep juggling. anyways we’re in garlemald, we calm the final days for now, zenos shows up out of nowhere to remind us he’s still in the game. and to be fair to him that was one of the most interesting cutscenes he’s had the whole time, and, get this--they have him randomly answer hermes' question? about the meaning of life? while talking to jullus? like jullus gets mad at him for not giving a fuck about causing what happened to garlemald, and zenos responds by saying: "ask any creature of this star and those above for answers, and they will tell you what suits their fancy. and they would be right to do so. what meaning there is to be found in the petty vicissitudes of your existence must be gleaned by you and you alone." like......? he just provides the answer right there in a conversation with jullus? did this expansion have any interest at all in putting any of its different parts in conversation with each other, or are we supposed to just try and build a good story like a puzzle, where the pieces, albeit interesting, don't actually fit together? weren't zenos and fandaniel working together at the beginning of the expansion? he should have just posed this question to zenos because the answer was apparently right fucking there, with the flattest character in the entire game, this whole time? whatever, i still liked this scene. alisaie putting a curse on zenos was very cool of her. so we're back in garlemald and....….tonal dissonance! puddingway shows up. cute scene where g’raha’s ears perk up also bc he's the one who hears the loporrits coming. just in case you forgot about g’raha, which is an oxymoron. and then maybe the second worst segment of endwalker...........we go back to labryinthos. 

now i love labryinthos. i thought it was interesting we only collected one aetheryte the first time we were there, and i was hoping the place would be as intriguing to me as it first was when we got back. admittedly learning that the sharlayans' secrecy only amounted to contributing to the moon project was kind of a let down, but i thought maybe there was still more to it. i mean, an ark to the moon? the abandonment of one's home planet? it's not like the ideas aren't there. let's go back to elpis for a second. one of the moments that really stood out to me during that part was a throwaway line that emet-selch says to wol after hermes starts freaking it:

he's right. i don't think hermes found society so truly beyond help that he couldn't turn to any one of his peers for help before devising such a reckless plan. but i'm not trying to rehash my issues with hermes, more that i think an interesting parallel could have been made, possibly, with the ark flying to the moon as currenlty the most viable solution to the final days problem? challenging this notion of just throwing it all away as a last resort? especially because it's so obvious to me that by the end of this expansion nobody is actually going into space to start a new life out there; trying to sort out living accomodations and acquaint the lopporits properly with earth is just a waste of time. so why not pose the underlying question of the entire expansion, about what makes life meaningful, to the last bastion of hope in the entire universe--the sole planet amongst millions of dead stars that still believes in itself? would it not just be free real estate to try and connect this story's multiple parts together by ...connecting this story's multiple parts together? the scions say repeatedly how much they'd prefer to protect their planet rather than leave it, and everyone on earth vouches for you because they don't want to leave, either. could they not have made a connection in some way between that ark and the meteia's voyage to outer space? could the writing not have turned around and asked the actual inhabtants of the planet of that we've helped and saved and laughed with and broken bread with or whatever the fuck what they think about the meaning of life, now that they have to leave that life behind? i guess fucking not??? i guess endwalker would rather only highlight civilians when they're being turned into abominations to drive home the same points about life = suffering constantly, and not the points about how despite the suffering life needs to be lived? because they don't actually seem to care about challenging meteion's nihilism when that can just be lazily solved by beating her up at the end. hermes could have been learning to love the world he was on, the smaller things that make it beautiful. because that's what he does, he creates this creature that is built to understand him, and it does and it shares these small joys with him. but nope, time to waste time doing fetch quests in labryinthos. find every single researcher who is obviously losing their mind with stress in labryinthos and give them their government-assigned lopporit while this hectic music with only one minute's worth of loop value plays in the background. go and deliver these papers with alisaie and alphinaud bc if you do a former friend of their father’s will tell them that their father actually loves them duh that’s why he disrespects them publicly every chance he gets. go follow one of the lopporits around while they sample fruits so that they can learn to make food other than carrots. go and watch urianger reconcile with moenbryda's parents even though she died all the way back in a realm reborn. fuck you. also everyone is still just a bad day away from turning into an abomination. just in case you forgot.

that shit where asahi shows up to take fandaniel away for the final time might be top three most bizarre scenes in all of final fantasy fourteen btw. i almost didn't want to mention it, but i need it on record how silly i thought that was. we are in the final stages of this expansion and it still can't stop wasting time. did we see ardbert's thoughts on elidibus using his body? no. but asahi was who they chose to get upset about this? ok.

i liked the trial against mother. you might have noticed i've had very little to say on venat this whole time. that might just have to be its own post or something if nobody is sick of me by now. but anything to do with working together with your friends to overcome a trial is good.

that's what i liked about ultima thule. at the same time, this is where the game finally just loses me forever. i think, somehow, even despite all the things i didn't like, the way the story is told i still enjoyed, even if what it was saying was often. bad. there's still a lot of moments i really liked despite it all. but after ultima thule i was just done. we get on the ark. great. i like that things don't go as planned because meteion intercepts our ship. but now meteion is finally here, which means it's finally time for me to reckon with the pseudo-intellectual nihilism she's been touting every chance she gets. it's hard for me to suspend my disbelief that every single society out in space wanted oblivion, but if that's what endwalker wants me to believe for the sake of its story making sense (oxymoron) then fine. ok. but that's all that's ever said. "life is suffering" "life is suffering" "the final days are really bad"

just the same pseudo-intellectual browbeating about how living just leads to constant strife and the most beautiful thing to do is to just end it all for everyone ever again. like sure, empath hears death cry repeatedly--i can see how meteion could change so permanently. i think that's fine. i doubt that's why she's so repetitive. i genuinely just 't think there's nothing anyone really had to say on this. and the thing is, we've heard this argument before? the idea that humanity is imperfect so they don't deserve to live? it will all amount to nothing, so why let it continue to exist? these are major points of conflict from shadowbringers because it's what emet-selch was always saying. the difference is that emet-selch is just an easily more interesting and fleshed out character whose arguments are largely more complicated, even if they're just as morally wrong. like it's extremely easy for me to answer whatever meteion is saying with a resounding no. and while i feel that emet-selch can also be easily disagreed with on what he believes, bc i do disagree--he at least introduces ideas that complicate the story and his own character. he challenges the scions on their hatred of primals--their god is a primal. he offers visions of a world where nobody has to struggle ever again, where strife doesn't exist, and so on and so forth. while that doesn’t justify his actions, nor do i think they should, i think he at least gives the characters something to think about. he throws their own actions back at them. why would the scions not want a world without suffering? when emet-selch asks alphinaud if he believes half of the sundered world would give up half of their number to save the other half, alphinaud is unable to answer because he knows that the answer is no. i don't think humanity should be tested, let alone with such an insane standard, but i at least think that the questions being asked in shadowbringers were interesting. there's a point to them. with meteion, all she basically says to the scions is that she’s going to fucking kill everyone they know and love in the worst way possible. nothing to chew on that wouldn't better be solved by just getting rid of the threat. i don't know why they even bother arguing with her ever. she doesn't even feel like a character to me in that last section of the game. and they keep trying to have her seem all scary by having her get really close to the screen or move around without warning which is all very silly to me. i at least did like how much of a threat she was, and the way thancred vanished, and then everyone finds themselves in that dark area in front of the ship wondering where he is while the ultima thule music plays for the first time, distantly and quietly. i actually really liked that part. i thought it was really moving. i wish it had stayed that way.

the first area of ultima thule was the best part imo. i liked the immense darkness and quiet and lack of wind and the foul air and  yet, green grass. i liked the strange horror of being the only person at first who could really see the dragons, and then learning that estinien can see them too. i liked how that was the segue for his sacrifice. having those "final" moments with a specific scion each time until that climactic moment that pushes the group forward i really liked. i liked that thancred was no longer with them but still with them, a presence over them keeping them safe from harm. i found that very touching. but i was actually really confused while going through ultima thule becuase of how they visually shows what happens, like while the swirling vortex each scion would stand in was cool, and then standing to face off against that dark bird, i think what those things actually represented i just did not really understand what was actually being done or going on. i think that might be because dynamis suffers a bit from being just too nebulous or underdeveloped. i don't mind how abstract of a concept it is, i mean aether is used to do all sorts of never-explained things all the time.. it's more like... if ultima thule is going to be a place ruled by emotions, with laws different from what the scions are used to, it's hard for me to see how they were able to really draw any conclusions about where they were or what to do. it actually kind of reminded me of the logic of jojo's bizarre adventure where an attack only overrules another attack not becuase of some fundamental power scale the reader understands, but bc of what araki feels like contriving to get the story moving the way he wants. and that's fine because it's jojo. but this is ffxiv, so in my mind ultima thule should have either remained abstract and they don't try to explain the rules of the place so much, or they should’ve just made what was going on less abstract if they were going to try to logic the place out

what i mean is: the scene where estinien argues with that dragon so that he can overcome its despair is really cool. i liked that he turned into a cool wind. i liked that your friends sacrificed themselves for the sake of their home, that the power of their hopes for wol to overcome this final challenge was the only way they could move forward in such a stagnant place, as well as the only way they could be protected by meteion's violence. but after estinien does it--and he admits that he doesn't know how, just that it was the right thing to do--it feels like the writing immediately tries to specify what's going on so that there's some easy way forward the scions just have to follow the rulebook for, so that they can get to meteion. when urianger takes wol and g'raha aside i was actually just so lost. i don't know what it was i wasn't getting. i still don't. like to kind of say that there’s always one "individual" in these fake worlds who is despairing more than the others that can be located if they just identify a certain set of behaviours... this kind of just waters down what the scions are doing and the magic of being at the universe's end or w/e to me. we use language because of our inability otherwise to really express the depth of emotions and sensations that exist in this world, not the other way around--trying to box in something so complex through things like processes and so on...so to try and narrow down this part kind of rung a bit hollow to me. it was somehow both overexplained and underexplained at the same time. this might seem kind of nitpicky but i guess it was just hard for me to enjoy ultima thule when i was genuinely confused almost the whole way throughout. and bc the ea and the omicrons were so goddamn annoying. trying to do this slapdash learning about their societies at the very end of the game was just like...? okay? why bother, all they really care about is dying anyways. and then that final dungeon, ew's final attempt at replicating the wins of shadowbringers (the amaurot dungeon) with meteion's voice over. like who cares now meteion, you are somehow still just repeating yourself. endwalker is almost at it's end girl, i get it. everyone wants to die.

where i actually started to get annoyed though was where y'shtola says in no uncertain terms not to use the retcon crystal hydaelyn gave you to call their spirits back. y'shtola, you shouldn't have bothered, because you know wol is going to do absolutely that. why even have her say it? there is no sense of risk whatsoever because that crystal is involved. i still liked the sacrificing, but maybe they should have framed it in a way where it wasn't obvious that the scions were going to be totally fine. ew literally didn't seem ballsy enough to kill all of the scions, and i don't think it should've either. but then it just makes this all very wishy-washy. and even worse was when wol used it to summon HYTHLODAEUS AND EMET-SELCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY!!!!!!!! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?????????????? i was so annoyed. i'm still annoyed. back when their memories got wiped hythlodaeus was like oh yeah by the way emet did you know that in the aetherial sea you can get your memories back haha? and i was like okay cool so when they die they can get their memories back, whatever, still don't think me and emet-selch should've been live love laughing on elpis. i didn’t actually think this game would be so juvenile as to let you get to meet them once more with their memories fully intact. i don't know why ew has to dot every i and cross every t and sign off every single bit of intrigue with the biggest fucking full stop The End ever where emet-selch is concerned, holy fuck man. i hated this decision so much. your friends SACRIFICE THEMSELVES so that WOL can face meteion. they believe that at the very end of everything, hydaelyn believes that at the very end of everything, WOL is the one who can defeat meteion. they all put so much faith in you. and the first thing you do is summon emet-selch and hythlodaeus because what? because you just can't fucking help yourself? just shit all over the importance of carrying your friends’ beliefs in you. christ i hated that. i loved seeing the elpis flowers grow all over that fake sun. why couldn't that have been wol who grew them, wol's turn to use dynamis to overcome meteion's despair, flowers that represent the hopes every single person on earth has placed in them to see their star to safety? why? emet-selch there for what? to set in stone his position as the Tsundere once and for all? is that it? to have him renew his vows to wol for the millionth time just in case you forgot that he wants you to take up the mantle of their future? i wish they would go back to never making emet-selch palatable and less hostile to the warrior of light, it feels like such a disservice to the character he was in shadowbringers and to just their characters in general like i do not want to be canon friends with emet-selch! it's not necessary! it's fucking emet-selch! what's even worse is that for some reason while the flowers are growing, emet-selch is just point blank explaining what's going on. he literally says something like, "these flowers are the hopes of everyone meteion you're washed. by the way, if you didn't catch that, wol. you can summon your friends back now." immersion gone. any sense of playing a game that actually gives a fuck gone. so we call our friends back, only to send them away again with the teleporter because meteion is just too strong for us. to be fair i liked that decision, but why fake me out a second time having me think yes, finally wol is going to face meteion ON HER OWN. and then have ZENOS show up? i actually just stopped playing and went to bed. genuinelly just fuck me. who fucking cares anymore.

and then after you finally get meteion to stop being emo and she offers to reconcile with you by sending you safely back to your friends it's like, actually i can't even accept this meteoin. because i have to go fight zenos now. and then it's crazy to me that after you kick zenos' ass for like the millionth time, we're literally on the edge of the world so i'm finally expecting him to say something worth listening to, he opens his mouth and says "you know, wol, this whole time... i've been so bored... and the only thing that gives me joy is fighting you...” like. stuck record. the writers dragged him all the way out here to be a stuck fucking record

i like endwalker btw. kind of. like i know nobody who reads this is going to believe me but i really do. if it had just, well. i don't even know. there's too much wrong with it. it wastes too much time and just doesn't seem to be able to let go. how is it possible that an expansion can make me tired of callbacks to haurchefant being important to wol? i've never felt that before. like how many more flashbacks to his grave does one need to have to know that when wol is fighting for their world they're fighting for their friends too. but this game just cannot let things go. it NEEDS to make that joke about alphinaud gathering firewood four more times. it makes anything i appreciated the second or maybe even the third time just upset me. they can't let anything go, they have to wave it in front of me like it's a dog treat and i'm a dog. a fucking dog with blonde hair and blue eyes

[justanamesstuff]

Chapter 8

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader A/N: two more chapters and we're done with this story...craaazy! as i've said i'm not too sure about this chapter but i hope you like it guys. Keep in mind that this story originally writed it during 2020/2021..I've made A LOT of changes but the core of the story is one. Anyway, let me knowww <3 Warnings: ANGSTTTT, mention of disease, typos. Word count: 4 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

< Chapter 7

Matty firstly felt the coldness of the morning before opening his eyes. Weather was all over the place, like his mind. Summer was around the corner, but the skies around England stayed grey and the wind cold. 

He moved, side to side, in the bed, groaning, because his head was pounding so hard. Why he drank so much the night before? A flash of images flew in front of his eyes.

He sat on his bed quickly, desperately. Matty felt dizzy, so he had to close his eyes again. The singer cringed at the memories. 

As fast as he sat up, Matty moved around looking for his phone. It wasn’t there to be found. The sheets engulfed him like a snake, making him end up on the floor with a big noise. That didn’t help his other achings.

Matty continued searching.

His phone was under the bed after all. Why the fucking device always ended up there? 

He unlocked it and his first impulse was to call Y/n. Matty anxiously waited, hoping she answered. She didn’t. The frontman looked at the time, it was almost lunchtime. How much did he sleep?

He dialled again.

The call ended up quicker than before. He tried again with the same result. Matty continued trying and trying, none stop. She was obviously avoiding him, he understood. Matty finally declined.

He just sat on the floor, staring at his phone on his right hand. He was sure she hated him by that point. 

It wasn’t like he thought he didn’t deserve her treatment, but Matty couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t picture Y/n not wanting to talk to him any more. Again, he deserved it, although it hurt his heart too much. Y/n was the love of his life, but first, it was his best friend, and he hurt her pretty much. Again.

Why did he keep hurting her when he promised not to? Why no matter how much he tried to be good he still managed to do wrong to her? He fucking deserved the treatment. 

Matty fidgeted with the phone in his hand. Should he call her again? She wasn’t going to answer. He didn’t seem it possible. 

What happened last night? Everyone was beyond angry or pissed with him. Matty was sure of that. He was angry at himself. He drove past the line by way too far. 

For what he could remember –which wasn’t that much–, Ross was disappointed, George ignored his bullshit completely –just for now–, Adam was furious and Y/n was another world to be explored. Her face would linger in his mind forever. The surprise, the pain, her sadness.

 He couldn’t help himself to think what Tom thought about it. What happened with Y/n and Tom after they left? They would probably be at Y/n’s flat, talking about her foolish best friend...or ex-best friend? 

Y/n was going to forgive him? He needed to know. He needed to talk to her. Pushed by the thought, he dialled again. The voice mail answered this time, and a couple of minutes later George opened Matty’s room door.

“Stop.” G said with a look that expressed more than his words, Matty analysed his friend’s face.

“What?” he placed his phone to his ear again. Fucking voice mail.

“That.” the drummer pointed to his phone and Matty understood right away.

“I need to talk to her.”

G didn’t hesitate saying, “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

“I can picture why. But- I need to talk to her!” Matty whined.

“And tell her exactly what?” George said getting angry at Matty. The frontman looked at his friend without saying anything for a solid minute.

“That I’m sorry.” he looked down, embarrassed. George scoffed at his answer.

“You have to say way more than sorry to her...if you want her to forgive you,” he stated.

“I know. But- I need to talk to her.” Matty repeated like a broken record. 

“No.”

“You are not her.”

“But...she just texted and told me.”

A warmth woke up Matty’s body. “What?” he exclaimed. G said nothing. “Why is she telling you stuff? Why can’t she speak-?”

G interrupted his next words, “Because I don’t fuck her life all the time.”

“I don’t-”

“You know you do.” George exclaimed.

“Fuck you, George!” Matty shouted, standing from the floor. 

As fast as he managed to stand in both of his feet, he reached for new clothes so he could change after a quick shower. He had slept on his last nightclothes, he stank badly.

“What are you even doing?” the drummer asked, fearing his mate decided to storm off and run towards Y/n’s flat.

“I’m going to shower.”

“Why?” G inquired.

“Because I stink!”

“Don’t you even think about it.” G warned him, while Matty left his room going to the bathroom.

“Think about what?” the singer turned around.

G knew him better than believe his acting.“You know exactly what. She doesn’t want to see you at all.”

“I’m-”

“You’re not going to do anything, Matty.”

“I need to see her, to explain, to talk...I can’t-” he said desperately.

“You have to give her time.”

“You’re not her father!”

“I’m not. I’m her and your best friend. I don’t think it is a good idea for either of you to talk right now.”

Matty felt his eyes tingling with tears. “I don’t want to lose her.” Matty sadly admitted.

“I know, I kind of understand you. But- Hear me, please.” G dared to move closer, placing his hands on Matty’s shoulders. “You fucked it up pretty big last night. She is really hurt, and she didn’t even want me there.” George let him know a little bit more, just trying to make his best friend understand the situation.

“She doesn't want you? Fuck!” 

“Yeah, so...please stop calling her and don’t go. Wait for her to come around, okay?” Matty nodded, swallowing thick.

“Am I going to lose her?”

“I don’t know, Matty. You have to think about the risks of what you did last night before actually doing anything.” 

Matty only managed to detached his body from under G’s hands, entering the bathroom. 

He had to wait for her times. 

Once and for all he had to stop being the selfish dick he was. Y/n was the love of his life, his entire life almost since the moment he saw her stood for herself. She was worth the wait no matter if he died waiting. 

---------------------------------------------------------

The morning after the gathering at the boy’s house, Y/n woke up in the middle of her living room. Her back hurting like a b*tch, her neck very sore. She could feel the mascara that adorned her cheeks and the mess on her hair.

Although, nothing of her exterior could match what she was feeling.

Her entire body was cold due to the low temperatures, but not even sleeping without covers made her so stone cold as the pain in her heart.

She tried standing up slowly, her bones cracking at every move. Y/n reached for her phone on the coffee table. It was 10 am. Y/n didn’t believe she slept a single second because the weight in her eyes and the achings around her body were a sing of a tiredness she didn’t linked to a good night sleep.

Y/n unlocked the little device, no messages far from George and Adam asking how she was and some from the group chat before she and Tom arrived at the boy’s house. 

Tom

She already missed him. She opened their chat, readint the last messages about him apicking her up and loving words. Her heart sank on her chest. Y/n wanted him there to hold her and make the sadness go away. 

Y/n tried to call him one time, he didn’t answer. He probably was still asleep or avoiding her. Y/n didn’t want to be one of those people, but she looked at his last connection, he turned them off. 

Y/n moved around searching for a comfy place on her couch, chossing at the end the place she remember Tom sat on the night before. She curled in a little ball and started crying again. She needed his warmth around her, his contagious happiness. 

Tom was so right about her. She avoided her feelings for so long so when she had to face them, she had to face them all at once. That was painful so she preferred seeking the comfort of Tom in that case, who in reality was in excuse to not feel, to not go though her pain. He was so right about her..

She unlocked her phone again. She replied to George’s text with an emoji without expression and seconds after he was calling her.

“Hi.” she answered with a low voice.

“Hi, darlin’.” he said sweetly. 

“How are you?” she coughed trying to clear her voice.

“Fine, you?”

Her eyes watered again saying, “I don’t know.”

Y/n listened how G took in a sharp breathe. “Are you with Tom?” 

“No, he dropped me off last night and then he left…after we fought.” she told him.

“What happened?”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Did you guys bro-?”

“I don’t know. I mean, not officially but kind of.” Y/n started to cry a little.

“Oh, darling.” 

“It’s- I don’t know. I don’t know what to do or feel, G.” she whipped some tears from her face.

“Do you want me to go there?”

“No,no.” Y/n pushed her body up as if she could stop him even though he was kilometres away. “I- Don’t take it the wrong way but...I don’t want to see anybody right now.”

“It’s totally fine, love. Although, if you need anything let me know okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Do you wanna talk about last night?”

“Which part?” Y/n scoffed. “It feels like it wasn’t just one night, y’know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“I told Tom I used to have feelings for Matty.” she muttered out.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. He asked about Matty and I- And I just told him.”

“What did he said?”

“Not so much, firstly he got angry...and then he was like done with the situation. He said he loved me, but then he left me.” Y/n chocked on a cry.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go there? I can promise you to make myself almost invisible. You know I can do that.” George offered again.

“I really appreciate it, but no thanks, G. I need to sleep and be alone for a little.”

“Okay. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Well, take care! I love you and I’m here if you need me.”

“I know…I love you so much.”

“You should date me, I’m less dramatical.” Gmade her laugh a little.

“Oh god, I don’t believe that…not even for a second!”

“Rude!”

“Bye, George.”

“Bye, Y/n/n.”

Y/n left her phone on the coffee table. She could feel the tiredness coming back. As she told George she needed to sleep and be alone. Y/n needed to wallow in her sadness for a little.

She believed she managed to sleep for an hour before her phone went off. Thinking the person calling was George she reached for it quickly, but she got disappointed pretty fast when the person’s ID was ‘Matty’. Y/n just looked at the screen, wondering if she wanted to answer or not. She was sure she didn’t want to talk to him.

He hung up, but then Y/n saw how he called her again and again. Every time she just declined the call. At the 10th call, she texted George asking him to make Matty stop.

Some part of her, deep deep down, wanted to answer and scream at him. Y/n wanted to shout and also asked him so many questions. Why he did it? Why he fucked her life so easily? 

Another big question was about what in fact he asked her last night. What does that question meant? Y/n really tried to think about it, but not even one idea that came to her mind made sense. Because as a friend, as her best friend, it was everything so childish. Also, the tint of his voice sounded so deeply wounded. No matter how much he had hurt her, she still worried about his feelings. Y/n felt stupid.

Y/n couldn’t even start to think that he had some feeling beyond friends. Like, two months ago he was deeply in love with another girl, and he never ever gave Y/n a single reason to think that he liked her excluding the first states of their relationship and little moments here and there. Was she so deeply into her own feelings and making herself believe that he didn’t want her when in fact was the opposite? ‘No,no, it was impossible. Was it?’  

With the events from the night before and the unknown state of her relationship with George, she didn’t want to go down that road. Because going there meant that all of what happened was about two stupid and so self-centred people, hurting others because they tried to maintain something that bloomed to be so much more, but they got scared, and they avoided it. Matty and her avoid talking because they feared losing each other when in fact they were doing exactly that.

Trying to distracted her mind, Y/n found herself reaching for the little device for the hundred time. She wondered about calling Tom. He said he was going to reach later or something like that. Maybe, she had to give him time. She knew that the relationship was over, the solo thought of that made her cry again. Why she loved the wrong man? Was he the wrong man? Weren’t they, Matty and Y/n, so perfectly bad for each other?

Three years with so many mixed feelings. Everything bad thing that happened, every fight, the people they hurt…everything because they couldn’t be enoughly grownups and face the fucking point. All with the stupid excuse that they didn’t because they wanted to maintain a friendship. 

They were toxic and they were stupid. Y/n knew that they had to talk but at the moment she wasn’t ready to even looked at his face. She wasn’t ready to the real talk they were going to have this time. Y/N knew that was going to happen soon but for the time being she needed her time alone.

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Two weeks later…

The weeks after the dinner were odd, strange, rare, uncomfortable to the top. The boys didn’t say much to Matty, that was even worse for him than them shouting how stupid he was. Meaning they were more than disappointed with him. 

George, Ross, and Adam treated Matty the necessary not more, not less. Even though he knew Adam was the angriest and he wanted to punch Matty, scream how stupid he was and more. The guitarist told him not to do it, but Matty never listened. The frontman acted like a child you tell not to eat grass and you’re 100% sure they are going to do exactly that. He somehow knew the consequences of his actions, he knew what he could do to hurt Y/n, to piss the boys, he knew and even though he continued with it. Adam was right to be angry.

The problem Adam had is all the promotion he had to do with Matty for the next album. Jamie and the label thought that it was a good idea to control Matty during interviews. Adam wanted bad to decline but everything was arranged and he wasn’t going to disappoint their management, the band, and everything he stood for just because Matty was a complete idiot. He would maintain the distances and just let Matty talk as it was planned. Simple. Or that was he thought.

Matty, on the other hand, was beyond anxious. Having to do interviews and speak about the record and the process when everything going on at the minute and the fact that he didn’t know anything about Y/n was driving him insane. 

He wanted to ask about her many times, but he was sure no one was going to tell him a single word. Matty couldn’t say there were sides, even though it felt like they were taking Y/n’s side in a way. He didn’t blame them, Matty would probably do the same. 

……………………………………..

Adam tried to do his job the best he could but at the same time, every interview felt like a never ending conversation. Sitting beside Matty, hearing him talk so normally and carefree boiled Adam’s blood. He loved his friend to pieces this time was something else. The guitarist acknowledged it wasn’t exactly his problem -in fact, it wasn’t, just Matty and Y/n’s- but he involved himself in some way. 

Adam’s prayer came quicker than he expected. One morning during a quiet time, a call interrupted his entire life. 

His girlfriend’s mother was in a bad medical condition and she was not only asking for him to be there, she was even demanding it. Adam being the good and generous man he was accepted at the same time he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs since he had to find a replacement. Ross and George were at the other side of the sea working on side projects. The idea of finding a personal assistant crossed his mind but with such short notice he didn’t had time to find one. He had to speak with Jaime and face the situation.

When the call ended, a repeated question filled his mind ‘what should I do?’ 

He pulled from his short hair thinking. Maybe, he could call George and beg him or Ross. No, he knew they were really busy and compromised with the work they had been doing. 

Suddenly another name was pushed into his front lobe. 

No, he couldn’t do that to her. Even though he was in a hurry, as soon as he could find someone he would be travelling to his hometown, to his girlfriend who needed him. He must found someone trustful and that one was Y/n. She knew how to manage Matty like no one else.

Maybe, he could just call Y/n and asked her. Tell her what he was avoiding Matty as much as possible while still doing his job. He felt selfish, although the situation was demanding him a quick solution. He didn’t lose anything to just try.

After staring at his phone for three solid minutes, he dialled Y/n’s number. He hoped she answered it. He prayed she answered but after a couple of seconds, the line died. Fuck.

Adam tried again and again, but every time she declined. Probably she thought that Matty was calling or something like that. He texted her instead.

‘Y/n, I’m Adam. I really need to talk to you. It’s kind of urgent.’

Five minutes later, Adam’s phone was ringing.

“Hi.” he said, breathless like if he just ran a marathon.

“Hi, what happened? Are you okay? Is he okay?” she asked fast and worried.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re okay, nothing happened.”

“Fuck, Adam! You scared the shit out of me!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, what was all the urge about?” 

“Okay, first, please know that if I had someone else to ask this to,  I would…please believe me.“ he explained.

“You’re scaring me again, Hann.” 

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to say, to ask this…and I know you’re going to hate me but please, I need this favour.”

“Please, said something clear to me because I’m so fucking lost.” 

“Here’s the thing. Carli’s mother is in a bad state and I have to be there, Y/n.“

"I'm so sorry to hear that Hann...but what does that have to do with me?

Hann took a big breath before just asking, “I need you to replace me as some type of personal assistant to keep Matty under control during interviews.” Y/n remained silent, making Adam panic. “Please, believe me…I tried to think about another good substitute but no one is better than you or knows him better.”

“Your compliments won’t work, Adam.” Y/n voice was sharp as a knife.

“I’m not trying to. I’m being honest with you.” she sighed.

“You know I can’t. Not right now.”

“I know you can. Hear me out.” He said when she protested. “I’m 100% sure that you’re not fine and with everything that happened you have absolutely the right to say no. Although, I’m 200% sure that you’re the most qualified person to deal with his stupid ass, and you’re such a professional, Y/n. I’ve been doing this interviews with him for two weeks and I almost didn’t talk to him. You can do it, and I know I’m being selfish…Carli needs me.” Adam’s state ended with a sob falling from his mouth.

“It’s too soon, Hann.”

“Yes, but…”

“How is he?” she inquired suddenly.

“I’m not so sure, I didn’t talk too much because he- “he started to say.

“He’s your best friend” Y/n stated.

“How could you defended him, after- Sorry, not my place. I- He’s bad, he’s moody and trying to focus on work, but it’s difficult. I know he wants to ask about you, but he’s retaining himself as much as he can.” 

“When am I supposed to be there if I accept?” Y/n asked defeated.

“Next interview is in three days. BBC radio 1.”

“For how long?”

“Probably until the end of the month.”

“Shit.”

“I’m so deeply sorry, Y/n!”

“Stop, I understand. I’m just doing this for you and Carli, okay?

“Yes, yes. I’m deeply thankful with you! I own you a big one.”

“So, I don’t have to be too much time with him?”

“No, if you don’t want to. You know the job, and I suppose Jaime, the management team, are going to tell you more details. I’m going to call him right away after we hung up, okay?”

“Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing but…okay.”

Hann felt guilt filling his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I know that I can walk away any moment I want.”

“Yes, that would cause a big mess but yeah.”

“And I’ll talk to him and clear this just a bit. I’m not ready to actually talk about what happened but just letting him know that I need to do my job and this time he can’t mess with me.”

“Yeah, I totally agree.”

“Fine. Then, arrange all this and let me know, ya’?”

“Yes. Thank you so much, Y/n!”

“Don’t worry. Please hug Carli for me and I’m here if you need anything else.”

“I will, I promised. I’ll return it somehow.”

“Don’t mention it, Hann.”

“So…how are you?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know really. These weeks have been…a lot.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Tom and I broke up.”

“Shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Yes..”

“Do you want me to punch Matty for ya’ before I go?” he offered.

“No, for now, let him be.”

“That’s a big risk.”

“Yeah,” she said sadly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, worried but fine.”

“I get it.”

“Well, I gotta go now. I’ll send you the details, and again thank you so much!”

“Shut up, Hann. Go and support your family.” 

“Bye, Y/n.” Adam said, and she just hung up.

Adam ended the call with his soul aching a little. He didn’t know if he was making the right move, or he was making everything worst. He would have to wait and pray.

Y/n on the other hand was unbothered. Which was rare due to all she had to face. Getting the job was a big opportunity for her, but being close to Matty after everything was too much.

During those weeks she felt kind of death inside, at the same time she waited. For what? She wasn’t sure.

Nothing was sure and for the time being, she would focus on her work. On being the professional that Hann described, and she knew she was. 

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Chapter 9 >