#bc his body always has been but now it's his to wield. and that's nice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years

Text

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort. “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

#bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung #taehyung smut #v #v smut #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts v imagine #kth fic #bts fics #taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader fic #taehyung x reader imagine #my writing

806 notes · View notes

felassan · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Dark Fortress #1

(This post is under a cut due to spoilers.)

NB, my thoughts on the first pages that came out in the preview are collected here [spoilers at link], so I won’t repeat myself.

Okay here we go :D I’ve posted up my fav panels but always want a space where I can burble at length.. (I’m late in posting this bc recently for the last few days I’ve been obsessing over politics in my country as it’s the run-up to election time.. I haven’t read anyone elses’ thoughts on it either so I could be behind on prevailing speculation or whats known or something) The preview pages ended at the panel when Aaron says “Vaea is right”, so that’s where I’m beginning.

I can’t put my finger on why but I really like the “don’t tell me I’ve had too much to drink” panel showing a Tevinter street. It’s a neat blend of “Tevinter is advanced relative to much of the rest of known Thedas, but also ominous, but also a place where people live and go about their lives, and also not going too heavy on the cyberpunk angle”. I dig the composition ‘leading’ the eye up the street and the consistency with the recently-seen DA4 materials that have red lighting in Tevinter buildings, similar building shapes etc. ig I’m pretty obsessed with the idea of the DA4 PC & party walking up streets like these.

I wonder how Aaron felt witnessing Tractus’ drunken scenes in the pub :(

Tractus’ attitude towards the barman here shows the influence and power Magisters wield in Tevinter, and the fear of them common among the mundane populace

digging the Tevinter-y motifs & design of the bartop, bar shelving etc. it feels like thought went into it

I’d watch a spinoff show or read a story where Marius and Ser Aaron have to team up in order to achieve something

Vaea is so badass and agile! I appreciate that the shot of her up high was tasteful and didn’t like, weirdly contort her body, have a weird leering angle or emphasize things in that way comic art often does for women at moments like these

so in Tevinter, lamps give off red light (seen in the bar scene). are the windowpanes themselves also red?

good thinking Vaea grabbing the staff. great sense of snappiness and motion in this panel. her landing reminds me of squirrels doing the superhero pose landing actually :)

tfw you and a dog burst out of a wardrobe

Tractus recognizing Fenris, it seems - did they encounter each other when Tractus was young, or does he just know of him (distinctive markings and all that)? if the former, I have a feeling we might get a flashback scene to that time in a future issue

cutting to look at Francesca when Tractus talks about Fenris murdering his father is GENIUS. look at the sadness on her face here; “you murdered your father” is exactly what she’s been telling herself and struggling with all this time

nice to see staff-less magic in action

Tractus seems to have drawn power from the red orb set in his staff. he reaches out to it and it responds by glowing and the staff moving, but he wasn’t doing a Jedi ‘use my Jedi powers to make my thrown lightsaber [staff] return to my hand’, as you might expect, he was instead charging up and drawing magical energy/power from it [the orb], as seen by the red light in his hand in the next panel. this reinforces my earlier wonderings that the red orb is notable and that there’s some connection between it and his red eyes. later in the panel when he’s trying to cast on the floor his eyes seem lit up (altho it could just be lighting & dramatic effect)

I wonder if Fenris thinks of Anders and Justice when Tractus says “justice”. There was once a mage in Fenris’ life who was really focused on justice..

the combat scenes are beautifully drawn, thought out and colored

Fenris’ lines here are really metal, badass and impactful. I could hear Gideon Emery’s voice in my head as I read these bits - the word choice of “hounded” helps with that I think, it immediately recalls Fenris talking with anger about how Hadriana denied his meals and hounded his sleep. they nail how Fenris speaks, the pattern and words he tends to use, etc

PHASING POWERS in action!! this is very cool to see, this ability of his didn’t get touched on much at all in DA2 outside of combat or a few scenes

I enjoy the contrast between the red and blue glows

Fenris is understandably merciless

“Perhaps if you had it carved into you” feels like foreshadowing for the ‘red wraith’

:( the reminder that the very thing Fenris struggles with feelings of hate and fear towards is carved into his skin for the rest of time and always will be

Vaea is brave to step in, standing up for what she believes is right and also re-centering focus on the critical mission at hand

;___; Autumn helping keep Tractus on the ground. she is such a good girl. she Help

“You’re lucky the mabari is here” - having Fenris in a dark light here relative to the rest of the panel is nicely symbolic

oh shit!! some plot advancement in terms of the ongoing story of the wider world. The Antaam have now reached Neromenian!! the invasion is progressing further and further into Tevinter. how far will it have come by the time of DA4? will there be an active war front not far from Minrathous? I appreciate the comics from this team a lot, here and there they push forward the ‘story of Thedas’ not just the story of the comic’s focus. also, I like that the Qunari soldiers here aren’t clones of one another but all look different. different hairstyles, sizes/bodies, clothes

love how our group work together, everyone has a strength and a role to play, the teamwork, the delegation, they’re like a DA basegame party or a D&D party

the way Fenris’ hand and arm glow in this sequence has been drawn/colored is smart - calling to mind the image of blue veins running through someone’s arm or below the skin on the backs of their hands

Fenris has surely picked up Fereldan sayings from Hawke.. stop .. my heart ;__;

the Fenris/Autumn exchange

this is so intense.. why do I get the feeling that Fenris has used this sort of torture technique before in his hunting and extermination of Danarius’ adult children campaign and/or his hunting of slavers as the BW with Shirallas campaign. it feels like he has done this sort of thing before in the time post-Kirkwall. I like that they didn’t hold back with a bit of gore here and there in this issue (phasing a hand and then solidifying it inside someone’s body, the Qunari attack portion in the street etc), while at the same time not being excessive with it.

this miniseries so far has good pacing, things moving along nicely and not being too slow or meandering

it’s smart having Tractus’ explanation of how to get in stay off-screen to the reader while we follow Francesca calling the alarm. It means we get to find out as we watch them infiltrate

omg those puncture wounds from his talons

when Fenris is about to kill Tractus after he tells him what he wanted to know, I’m strongly reminded of how he promised to let Hadriana go then killed her anyway, regardless of player choice. he has his ruthless streak and it feels like a callback. and before, when he was standing over Tractus when he was on the floor, echoes that scene in A Bitter Pill when he stands over Hadriana on the ground, who also reached for her staff

Tractus pale with bloodloss and fear

lmao @ Fran and Autumn’s faces when they walk in on this scene

Fenris listening to Vaea is nicely consistent with his character too imo - there are times in DA2 when Hawke can be like “Fenris no don’t do the Thing” and he doesn’t do the Thing

I have missed the way Fenris’ nose bridge crinkles when he’s angry

I wonder what the consequences of leaving Tractus alive will be. [tv announcer voice] FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DARK FORTRESS

so the ritual will only take minutes to complete huh 👀

wow Neromenian has truly fallen, reeducation of the people of Tevinter continues as in Three Trees to Midnight in TN

explaining that they are speaking in Qunlat is a nice immersive touch and shows attention to detail of the lore of the world

bobbly-shoulders Qunari, Legolas hair Qunari, septum piercing Qunari, bobbly-brow Qunari, undercut Qunari. I wonder if the shoulder and brow protrusions are aspects we’ll see in the Qunaris’ latest design in DA4?

poor Tractus can’t catch a break lol. it has Not been Tractus’ day

Karasten: an infantry field commander

bit of Tevinter lampshading, lil fourth wall break with “This land and its obsession with magic. There is always a forbidden ritual with them” hhhhhh

Ringwraith on a horse moment at the end there

strong ending, can’t wait for next month weww.. 👀

#dragon age #bioware #dark fortress spoilers #dark fortress spoiler #spoilers #spoiler #fenris #the Fenaissance #dragon age: dark fortress spoilers #dragon age: dark fortress spoiler #video games #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #gore cw #blood cw

34 notes · View notes

marshthat · 3 years

Text

My Jedi master Eeth Koth headcanons!

Eeth Koth has been my comfort charcter for quite a long time, and still is now (and I hope still will be in the future also, bc I cant imagine me existing without my love for Eeth anymore).

So, I've decided to share my most prominent master Koth headcanons that I've accumulated at this point

As promised, I'm posting only general ones, without any specific implied pairings or other relationships!

note: (due not so much info about Eeth in Canon and Legends (unforgivably little actually), maaaaybe I'm projecting some of my own mental stuff on him, but eh, this is unevitable I guess :)

Have fun reading these!

1. Change of the profile

In his youth, Eeth was a Jedi Guardian, a.k.a "Jedi-on-the-front-line", and carried a blue lightsaber. But after the death of his master, followed by him joining the High Council, Eeth calmed down his inner rambo and changed his profile to a Jedi Consular. And so he chose a path of a diplomat, built a green lightsaber (with a hilt very similar to his dead master's one, as a remembrance) and eventually became famous in the Jedi Order exactly for his ability to resolve conflicts peacefully. (that's why no big missions on his part before the Clone Wars era apart from his participation in the Yinchorri incident)

2. The acceptance issue

Eeth pays a lot of attention to his appearance: carefully brushes his hair, makes sure his clothing is perfect, and so on.

Some consider this a simple whim, but in fact this will to have an ideal appearance is a consequence of some issues Koth now has because of his difficult childhood. Due to the fact that Eeth spent his first four years as a ragged orphan in the filthy slums of Nar Shaddaa, he sometimes feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in such a clean and nice place as the Coruscant Jedi Temple. (And the fact that his membership in the Order at first caused a lot of controversy among the Council masters only worsened this fear)

That is why Eeth tries his best to always look as perfect as possible - to be suitable for the beauty of the Temple and to not feel himself a stranger in its walls.

3. Long meditation hours and self-reflecting

He does meditate on his issues quite often, in order to get rid of every irrational fear he has, like the one described in the previous headcanon. Usually he does that in the evening, after all the tasks are completed - he gives himself time to reflect on what happened during the day, what he did and said and how the others reacted. This does help, but still some thorns can be very hard to get out of his hearts. His favourite meditation place is his own quarters in the Temple, where he can have a nice view on the evening/night Coruscant, which is somehow more relaxing to him than the gardens in the Room of Thousand Fountains.

4. A little peek into the apartment

Eeth’s master-quarters in the Temple are decorated with effort and thought. The most significant part are the long heavy thick and soft curtains, that, if closed, take all the light in the room away, leaving the nice pleasant semidarkness atmoshphere. Also Eeth has a lot of various cushions around the whole apartment, along with an enormous supply of aroma candles!

5. The tragedy of the Padawan

Eeth's first and only Padawan learner was Sharad Hett.

Sharad's will to quit the Order deeply hurt Eeth, even if he didn't say that out loud, as he put a lot of effort and dedication in his promise to be the best master possible for Sharad. Also he lowkey agreed with the accusations of other masters telling him he was responsible for Sharad's departure because Koth failed as a teacher - so he does feel himself guilty of failing both Sharad and the Order.

After the Hett's incident, he actually vowed to himself not to take any more Padawan learners, so as not to let anyone's expectations down again. (And, like master Saesee Tiin, chose to put his efforts into other fields rather then teaching)

(these panels still hurt me somehow qwq

Sharad made Eeth cry, for kriffs sake!)

6. But he's still very friendly to kids

Despite the unpleasant exprienece with his own Padawan, he did let go of his initial frustration and now he is quite happy to give younglings and young padawans some general lessons! Also sometimes he takes other masters' students to group trainings or supervises them during the Trials of Knighthood. And young Jedi do love master Koth a lot - because he's soft and very patient, and does allow them some liberties :)

7. The social butterfly

Eeth is a "social butterfly" or a "caretaker" (ESFJ mbti-type)

He is used to being among a large number of people, but even though it seems that he gathers these people around him, in fact this is not true - his natural charm and outgoing personality allow him to easily make new acquaintances, interact with friends and encourage conversations, but he more follows his more assertive companions, adapts his behavior and words to them in order to create the most comfortable atmosphere possible, than directs them himself.

In other words, he offers the fun, but enjoys more the others' reactions to it, than the fun itself!

8. Sweet tooth!

Eeth LOVES sweet things! He generally likes all sorts of sweets, starting with various desserts and finishing with sugary tropic fruits. (Gaining weight? Naaah, the zabraks physiology allows him to consume a lot of food because of the higher metabolism due to the zabraks having two hearts. And also he does a lot of physical exercise in the training halls. So it's not a problem at all!)

9. And he is sweet himself too

This love for sugary things is not only for sweet treats actually, but also for the scents of cosmetics too! (And he does use a lot of that stuff). That is why Eeth usually smells of something nice, either caramel, or vanilla, or fruity etc.

This is often favorited by his colleagues on the Council, who definitely enjoy the pleasant aroma Eeth always brings with him to the Council meetings.

10. Energy drinks!

He got badly used to them during the Clone Wars era, because he really needed an additional energy resource when staying up all night brushing through various diplomatic documents and strategy plans. Caf wasn't much of a help because it just turned out to be not strong enough for the zabrak, so he eventually replaced it with cheap but more effective sweet energy drinks. It doesn't really matter to him which drinks to buy exactly, but the meiloorun-flavoured ones are among his favourites.

11. Form of lightsaber combat

Form III - Soresu!

I actually did a separate essay analyzing why Eeth’s form of combat is definitely Soresu, but if keeping brief: he uses Soresu mixed with some Ataru moves. Ataru was his initial style, advised by his master due to Eeth’s small complexion and natural agility & flexibility, but after changing his Jedi profile to a Consular he also adopted the main Consulars’ style - Soresu (usually called “the diplomat style”, “the most peaceful among the seven'' etc.). Koth’s Soresu moves can clearly be seen in the “Grievous Intrigue” episode in particular. Also Koth’s stance in the "Intrigue" is different from the famous Kenobi's "point-fingers" thingy simply because Eeth's pose is not an opening Soresu stance, but the brace-ready stance, which in Soresu is described as “having much in common with the "Ataru guard," with the hilt held at waist height on the dominant side in a two-handed grip for greater control, extended vertically upwards”

12. The double-bladed saber

Eeth wields a double-bladed saber almost as well as a regular one.

And in fact, it was Darth Maul who has inspired Eeth to try this kind of a weapon - after the High Council sent him to lead the investigation on the question of a zabrak sith on Naboo in 32 bby, he got genuinely interested in the possible perks of two blades in his Soresu and eventually mastered the double-bladed saber on quite a level. But he still sees this only as an interesting training option, but nothing more. So the double-bladed saber stays in the Temple and is used only in the Training Halls, but never on the battlefield.

13. An earring (yes, in the singular form)

Eeth has one of his ears pierced (right one), and he actually has several different earrings, mostly simple, like basic metal rings, which he usually picks every morning according to his mood. But to be honest, this earring thing is purely only for himself - because you can’t really see his ears under his usual three-ponytails hairstyle.

Though, he did abandon wearing earrings during the Clone Wars era - because since the war began and the potentially dangerous missions became more frequent, it wasn’t really a right place and time for such things, especially knowing that the Separatists can use some specific traps (like the ones they used to magnetize Jedi lightsabers on Lola-Sayu). The prospect of losing the whole ear due to such a trap is not the most pleasant one indeed.

14. HUGS (and other tactile activities)

Eeth very very VERY much loves hugs!

And for him, tactile contacts are more than just a way to feel comfortable - for him it's a vital part of the whole communication process. This issue dates back to his master, Kosul Ayada, who was a herglic (a race that is actually not very good at speaking Galactic Basic), and therefore helped himself with gestures and body language. And spending a lot of time around master Ayada, Eeth also got used to supporting his verbal dialogue by body language and tactile contact.

That is why while speaking Eeth actively gestures, grabs the other's hands, squeezes shoulders etc. And the hugs are his way to express sympathy and also to feel safe and appreciated!

15. Driving skills

Master Koth can drive, and actually quite well. And by driving I mean not spaceships, but smaller things that stay on land, like speeders.

And because he is a diplomat who often attends various meetings with senators and ambassadors, he also has a personal speeder, allocated to him by the Order for the ease of attending senator events and other diplomatic ocasions.

(But he does use it for other personal purposes too, because why not to, if there is an opportunity)))

(A panel of Eeth casually driving a speeder like a damn pro is one of my fav Eeth comics crumbs,,,,,,)

16. Singing

Eeth enjoys singing! But he usually keeps this thing to himself, making the quiet manthra-like singing a part of his meditative prep - it helps him to settle down his tangly thoughts a bit and tune his mind and body for the actual meditation.

(the hc was inspired by Hassani Shapi’s singing in one of his films, because Shapi’s voice is really beautiful and I’m sad they didn’t give him even a single line in the Phantom Menace when filming Koth’s Council scene)

17. Space soap operas...? (not so serious, sometimes treated as crack, but sometimes not)

Koth (secretly) likes soap operas on the late-night HoloNet, and often stays up to watch a new episode of something before going to bed. His favourite series is called “Lekkus of love” (my imaginary in-universe show I usually use in my sw writings) and it's about a twi’lek girl’s life, filmed in the style of our “Magnificent Century”, with lots of romantic intrigues and twists.

18. LOTS of feelings

Referencing the previous one - Eeth is very emotional, actually! Yes, he’s a Jedi and he knows how to keep his mind clear, but he’s still sensitive enough to actually cry over sad episodes of "Lekkus…" because “Poor Ai’sha, she worked so hard to get her man’s attention, but he still chose that togruta girl? This is outrageous, this is unfair! :ccc”

Also this can be in fact explained biologically. He's a zabrak, and zabraks are supposed to have a hot, blazing, higly-emotional nature (to match their home planet, Iridonia, wich is also boiling with acid seas and all that - otherwise they won't survive)

19. Podracing as a favourite sport

Eeth enjoys podracing. He first got into it back on Nar Shaddaa, when he heard a lot about racing and stuff from smugglers and bounty hunters (and at that time he even dreamed of becoming a cool podracer - but that was of course before he was taken to the Temple).

Now he doesn't dream of podracing that much, but still can and actually does enjoy watching annual championships via HoloNet. He also tries to keep in touch with the latest news in the podracing world (that interest he shares with the young Anakin Skywalker, and they do sometimes occasionally discuss podracing when they both have free time)

20. Horns

Eeth doesn’t really trust droids with trimming his horns, so he usually does that by himself, in the freshener, and that always takes a while. Also unlike a lot of male iridonian zabraks, who prefer to keep the tips of their horns comparatively sharp as a sign of their brutality and masculinity, Eeth chooses to make the tips humbly rounded and smoothed.

21. A pet? (Also not so serious - but sometimes it IS the most serious hc!)

Eeth has a pet loth-cat! The loth-cat is a she-cat, and she's big, fluffy and always on her own mind. Agen Kolar sometimes points out that the loth-cat is very similar to her owner in a lot of little things, like the way the cat purrs when being hugged and how she is obsessed with being clean and ideal too.

The loth-cat is also a bit jealous of her owner’s attention, so she will every time make herself comfortable on his knees when Eeth is meditating or working with documents to show that this is HER man. (especially when smb comes over to Eeth’s apartment - that's the case when she just NEEDS to state who’s the real boss here).

22. Participation in the first battle of Geonosis

I headcanon that Eeth was not directly on the Petranaki Arena actually during the first battle of Geonosis in the AOTC. Since he's not on-screen in that symbolic circle of survivors but is still stated as a participant, I assume that instead of being a part of the main group, Eeth joined Yoda on his trip to Kamino. Maybe not directly on the planet but still somewhere there, helping to gather clone legions to guide them to Geonosis.

(p.s. I know that Eeth's on-screen absence is because of Shapi being replaced with another actor and the new character turning out not at all alike to TPM Koth, but this little hc actually kinda fixes the hole without ruining anything…?))

#star wars #star wars expanded universe #star wars legends #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #eeth koth #sharad hett #kosul ayada #star wars headcanons #ihonestly I can talk about Eeth for hours and days and month #Eeth is the best cinnamon bun in the Jedi Order

30 notes · View notes

unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Wind Down

Commission for someone who does not wish to be tagged.

Summary: The basic idea was that reader is a new contender in the arena while Miragehound are already a couple, they’re both poly and are Very interested in you being apart of their relationship. Whiiiiile ending with you getting super pampered sexually at the end!

Reblogs > Likes. It cost zero dollars to Reblog fics you like :D

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader has a vulva but they/them pronouns are used, Polyamory, polyamorous relationship, Bloodhound headcanons stated, it’s very fluffy sex?, only reader gets to cum tho bc they’re being spoiled, and uuuhhhh I think that’s it?

Words: 2.8K

______________

Everyone knew that Mirage and Bloodhound had some great chemistry in the arena. Whether that meant rivalry or working on a squad together was up to the person stating so. The illusion wielding trickster and the technological tracker were a duo to be feared when working alongside each other, and hell to keep away from each other on separate squads.

What the media didn’t know, was that the goofy and flirty legend was with the ever so regal hunter.

Behind closed doors they were in love, holding hands, kissing, making love, you name it. They were a couple, but a quiet couple. The only other people who knew were other legends, who were very good at keeping their own mouths shut.

Besides, why fret about what they did in the bedroom if people were watching only because they wanted to see the blood shed?

~Rest under the cut~

Elliott was Bloodhound’s moon, as far as they were concerned. And to him, they were his sun. They were a loving couple, easy around one another. Bloodhound being able to open up more with him than they had with anyone else. It had been a stroke of luck, on Elliott’s part, and the will of the Allfather, on Bloodhound’s part- that they ended up on the same planet. Let alone in the same space.

Bloodhound and Elliott had talked before about their partnership to one another. Elliott was bisexual, and Bloodhound wasn’t all too sure how they’d label their own sexuality besides that they liked who they liked. Yet, both had talked further about it. More on the question of monogamy. Both had come to the conclusion that an open relationship wasn’t quite right, even if Bloodhound encouraged his flirty behavior outside of just them. But rather, a more polyamorous look.

They just hadn’t found another person they enjoyed as much as one another.

Well, that is, until you entered the arena.

Much like falling in love does, neither expected it to happen. Bloodhound thought your skills in the arena were interesting for a newcomer, you seemed like you’d done this before. Yet, you cared more about your squad mates than your own victory. A heart of gold was hard to come by these days, especially in a game so dedicated to sponsors and getting money.

Elliott, ever quick to stop on the tips of his toes far too quick and fall heels-over-head, was the first to say something about you. A passing thought to his partner who had hummed in agreeance. You were very interesting, that much Bloodhound would admit to at first.

Yet, you worked your way up through the arena. Your kind heart winning the eyes of sponsors, and the legends alike. Elliott was more willing to become friends with you after one or two firefights with you, Bloodhound was a little more cautious. Toeing around the subject of even befriending you. Not that they were against it, they just knew Elliott was rather...strong about emotions.

And yet, you’d soon won the hunter’s heart soon after. You were just as kind in person as you were in the ring, funny too. They enjoyed how you and Elliott giggled together or how comfortable he looked around you. You brought even a smile to Bloodhound’s face that they couldn’t deny. A warmth they’d felt only in moments with Elliott.

Like you were home. Like you belonged there.

It’s almost natural how you move into their lives. Until a question is asked how you would feel sharing them. With Elliott holding one of your hands with hopeful eyes, fingers clasped with yours. And Bloodhound holding your other hand close to their heart with eyes hopeful, but understanding. They’d both been nothing but kind to you, perfectly sweet in their own respects. It was hard NOT to fall for either of them.

But, together? Two legends were a lot to handle.

You’d said yes, a big smile stretching onto your face as Elliott lunged and peppered your face in kisses. The push knocking you back into Bloodhound who held you. Kissing the top of your head warmly and murmuring their welcomes to you into their relationship.

Their family.

That was a few months ago. The thought of it still warming your heart. You three were all happy together, not one of your hands not held by either of them. You often enjoyed seeing them share kisses as well, with Bloodhound always having the lead. They kept that same aura with you, just something about them screaming Alpha of your little ‘pack’.

You playfully called them ‘puppy’ as an affectionate term when the thought struck you. Watching as their eyes flashed dangerously at you and they’d playfully snapped their teeth your direction. Yet now, it just stuck.

Elliott was like an enthusiastic child around the both of you. Excitedly having things to say or do, always wanting to go out or have days in. Even on days not all three of you could be together, it was still nice being with one or the other or knowing they had each other.

Bloodhound was a little harder to get out of their shell. But, once you proved you could braid their hair and give the best scalp massages they were all for ripping their mask and helmet off upon seeing you. Often times they got pampered by both you and Elliott tag-teaming their curly, crimson mess. Elliott often chiding on how they should take better care of their beautiful hair while they hummed with delight at every stroke of a brush in their hair.

Elliott was pampered with kisses and attention. He always craved either you or Bloodhound to be snuggling with him. If you were with him, you normally were clambered into his lap at some point. While Bloodhound preferred lounging with Elliott’s head on their chest as they read a book. And either of you spoiling him with far too many kisses was one of his preferred ways of having a day off.

You often were treated to dinners made by either of them and being able to share a bed with one or both. Yet, both Elliott and Bloodhound were trying to figure out how else they could pamper you. Someway to get you to relax.

You didn’t ask for anything in return, you didn’t seem to have a preferred method of BEING spoiled, and you most certainly weren’t sharing any ideas about how they could spoil you. Or help you unwind for that matter.

Elliott brings it up to Bloodhound when it’s just the two of them, with you out of Elliott’s dorm and Bloodhound curled into his side. “Do ya’ think they’d want sex?” He says suddenly, causing them to choke out a laugh and kiss at his jawline softly.

“You are still on that? I am sure if they had any ideas, they would tell us.” They murmur in reply, stroking down over his shirt idly where it folds up over his abdomen.

“Yeah but- what if they’re too nervous to admit it? I-I-I mean- you've seen when we’re making out. They get really into it- I know you’ve felt it too, Hound.” Elliott is quick to nudge back at them, watching as Bloodhound’s eyes shift to the side. As if processing what he’s actually saying.

That made...sense. When Bloodhound would become bolder with you, a hand on your ass and pressing you to a wall to smother you in hot and heavy kisses. You never became shy or stopped them, yet they never proceeded further than that because they were waiting for explicit consent from you. Or even a breathed out ‘fuck me’.

Anything.

With Elliott, he was similar. Letting you pull at his hair and leave hickeys, but he never asked for more. He just assumed you would jump on him when you were ready. So, when it came time for things to cool down, he could see you still eyeing his lips and seeming to hold back your own emotions.

Holding back-

They both share a look as if both coming to the same conclusion before they grab their respective phones to begin texting you of plans and questions.

The conversations you have with both of them wind up boiling down to sexual preferences. You burn at the ears in your own bed at the thought, but you can’t help it. You wanted to...well, fuck, you really did. But, with two people and the intimacy of it all, it also almost frightened you. Who would you touch? Would one of them feel like you were giving too much attention to the other? How would this go? You had so many questions.

The next morning you’re brought to Bloodhound’s dorm. It has little bits of home for them, plant life all around with many different skulls. Little shiny trinkets that Arthur and Muninn brought in resting on their shelves with many books. Candles were set out as well as lamps in each corner- something they explained was because of their eyes. Sensitive to the bright fluorescent lights overhead that were installed.

The entire day is spent with the both of them, once Elliott wakes up in time for lunch and comes over. It’s around night time, after dinner is cleaned up and you all can spend some down time together where you finally feel yourself wound up tight enough to burst.

Bloodhound is dressed down for the occasion, a tight black muscle tank that shows off their toned and curved body with black tactical pants still on. Their jacket and mask had been thrown elsewhere, hair braided down their back from you earlier.

Elliott was almost fully in his pajamas, ie being boxers, his shirt gone to reveal the gold piercings through each nipple and on his navel. Gray sweatpants hanging around his hips and his curls wet still from his shower.

You, on the other hand, lie back on Bloodhound’s bed. The furs and blankets all bundled up to one side as you sink into the sheets. You had been delicately stripped of your clothing, with much praise from either side of you. Your neck was already blossomed in little bruises from Bloodhound’s need to bite and claim every part of you. Your cheeks were rosy red, nipples peaked with arousal and the warm air around you doing no favors to how wet you are.

Elliott sits between your thighs as you hold your own hands nervously at your chest. Fitting your arms between your chest to interlock your own fingers, biting your lip as you watch him stroke at your bare thighs. Caressing you gently as he hooks them over his hips so he can lean over you. “Hey, hey, no need to be nervous.” His voice is shockingly stable for once, watching as your eyes nervously flick over to Bloodhound beside you.

Bloodhound was knelt at your side, a little out of the way and stroking your cheek fondly with their calloused fingertips. Their full lips quirk up softly, an encouraging smile as Elliott gently moves your arms to the side. Your eyes don’t leave Bloodhound’s, their eyes appearing to glow in the warm lighting of the lamp around you to the same fiery hue of their blinded eye.

On instinct, one hand goes to Elliott’s curls just as he leans down to part his lips and seal them over your nipple.

Your back arches, fingers twisting in his hair and eyes going half lidded as you gasp. Your own lips part, your other hand coming up to reach for Bloodhound just as they lean down. Letting you caress their cheek in turn as their lips meet yours from the side.

They swallow your whines with eagerness as they lick into your mouth. Letting you feel the roundness of the piercing on their tongue, the sharpness of their canines. Pleasure shoots down your spine when Elliott’s teeth gently sink down onto the rosy bud and your hips come up. Pressing into his clothed ones that he eagerly rolls into you in a grind.

Oh, you are positively helpless.

Elliott’s hips grind into you slowly, you can feel the swell of his cock behind his pants with each grind against you. He’s almost humping into you desperately as he sucks on your nipple, parting from it to lick at it and letting you squirm under him. Having to part from your kiss with Bloodhound to let your head fall back with a heavy sigh.

Bloodhound wastes no time as they seem to move in tandem together. Their mouth latches to your pulse point, sucking more hickeys into your skin and sinking their canines into your flesh. Your hand that had been caressing their cheek fists as best as it can into their hair at the back of their skull, trying to drag them closer.

Elliott whines into your flesh as you scritch behind his ear. “Please- please let me taste you. Fuck- baby, I’ll make you feel so good, come on please, please, please-” He’s so whiny, breathing it out against your abdomen as he shifts downwards towards your heat. You almost don’t hear how Bloodhound laughs into your skin, but you sure do feel it.

“Eager,” They murmur against you, pulling back from your neck so you can look down at Elliott. Who is so helplessly nosing at your lower abdomen with hopeful chocolate brown eyes looking up at you like you’re everything. “Spread your legs, my love. Let him have you.” Bloodhound finishes, sitting up on their knees a bit so they can watch you.

You obey with shaky limbs, parting your thighs open and watch as Elliott sighs shakily against you with a breathed, “Thank you.” As he kisses you sloppily on your abdomen, kissing down and down. Over the mound of your sex to how your plump lips part for him. All he does is nuzzle you apart, tucking his arms under your thighs to spread you out further as he holds you and licks a wet, heavy stripe from hole to clit.

You can’t watch, your face burns and you turn your head with a cry of pleasure. But, Bloodhound’s fingers grip your chin, guiding you back to watch Elliott. “Do not look away, elskan. See how he worships you?” Their voice is as smooth as ever as you whimper in reply helplessly. You get to see just how Elliott eats you, tonguing over your hole and back to your clit like savoring a meal. His lips sealing over your clit to suckle and lick with a moan rumbling through his chest- like you’re delicious.

Like he’s been waiting for this moment.

Elliott’s eyes look up to you from under his lashes, parting his lips and backing off just a touch so he can pant over your wetness. His lips are glossy with your slick, slickness sticking to the stubble on his chin. His eyes look almost glazed over from how big his pupils are blown, letting you squirm as your eyes meet before he dives back in.

“Do you see how we worship you?” Bloodhound’s voice growls, gently letting go of your chin so they can rake their nails down your chest and abdomen to make you squirm. You sob out with pleasure when Elliott’s nails dig into your thighs just as he starts to get almost desperate to have you cum. Licking and nosing at you until your eyes are closing, head thrown back and moans spilling from you.

You vaguely make out teeth on your neck and chest. Your senses seeming to rapidly get heightened with every loud beat of your heart. You’re panting now, everything far too hot, too much, too sensitive-

When you cum, you have to reach for Bloodhound for support. They move their wicked mouth from your throat so they can nip and nibble at your ear lobe, breathing you praise for you. “So good, so good for us. There you go-” Sounding breathless themselves. Something you would be proud of later.

Your other hand holds firmly in Elliott’s curls, keeping him firmly pressed to your cunt as he sucks on your clit, nose pressed to your mound. Adoringly looking up at you with flushed red cheeks until you ease up on his hair enough for him to pull back. Panting for air as he presses wet, open mouthed kisses over your lower lips to make you tremble.

Exhausted, you let out a shaky, satisfied sigh. Briefly able to feel Elliott get up, hearing him wipe his mouth off before joining your other side. Tucking into you as one hand goes to his hair, trailing down to stroke at the nape of his neck and your other hand playing with Bloodhound’s hair in turn.

As you begin to relax, feeling yourself starting to breathe heavier, you gasp when you feel Bloodhound’s fingers trail down your hip to soon caress your mound. Their voice smooth as silk breathed into your ear, “Do not fall asleep so soon, sweet one. I have yet to have my turn.” While Elliott hums in approval, his cock pressed to your hip through his pants.

Oh, they’re both going to fucking kill you-

#Miragehound #Miragehound x reader #Mirage #Bloodhound #Apex legends #Apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

29 notes · View notes

lovenliterature · 3 years

Text

evermore thoughts

willow

I wasn’t sold on this on first listen but I really liked it on second listen with more attention to lyrics

video is also really lovely, big fan of that

really really like the difference in melody for the diff appearances of “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

favourite lyric: “I come back stronger than a 90s trend” - the look she does at the camera cemented this as my fave line even more

champagne problems

down as one of my faves from the start

love love love the narrative

proper late night with cider, melancholy vibe

kind of like a grown up/worse feeling august in terms of vibes?? as in like the experience described feels like a more intense heartbreaking august in a way

really like the conclusion too

favourite lyric: I really struggled to pick here but: “you booked the night train for a reason/so you could sit there in this hurt” for sheer visceral emotion, “dom perignon you brought it” for the way its sung, “How evergreen, our group of friends/Don't think we'll say that word again” and “she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred” for lyricism

gold rush

again, one i wasn’t super sold on the first listen, music and the vibe didn’t really interest me

first notes made me think of epiphany

but then i listened to it watching the lyric video and holy shit

now v appreciative of the melody and bass and the pace of the lyrics

really really like her embracing talking about jealousy

love love love the ending and beginning being the same holy shit

favourite lyrics: “at dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit” and the way she sings “with your hair falling into place like dominoes”

‘tis the damn season

again preferred on second listen, wasn’t on the list of early faves

the best xmas late night walks vibe, walking through frosty streets at home between houses, embracing the only time you get to think, losing yourself in music and nighttime with freezing hands and cloudy breath

would’ve fit my 2019 xmas vibe too

melancholy and nostalgia

favourite lyrics: “sleep in half the day/just for old time’s sake” and “and the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own”

tolerate it

god girl you deserve better

kinda like a sad last great american dynasty in terms of searching for approval

naive innocence taken advantage of

drunk in my garden walking round to try and forget my life kinda vibe

favourite lyrics: “i know my love should be celebrated/but you tolerate it” and “now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

no body no crime

holy shit did i sleep on this at first but oh my god its so good

start gives me show of hands vibes which is great

her husbands acting different and it smells like infidelity - just the way she sings this is so so fucking good

this is the easiest song to listen to and holy shit its just great

favourite lyric: “she said “that ain’t my merlot on his mouth/that ain’t my jewellery on our joint account”

happiness

“all the years I’ve given/is just shit we’re dividin’ up” - v v true, you have to rebuild your life after every relationship and taking it all apart is so much more sudden than building it up

like an alternative to the 1 which I LOVE

but also some parallels to this is me trying: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool..... sorry I didn’t mean that” vs “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad”

the whole bridge is iconic - “I can’t make it go away by making you a villain” - in the short term, anger at an ex can help, but eventually you have to move on, and its easier to accept that there was good in the relationship after a while, and it makes looking back on it better

“no one teaches you what to do/when a good man hurts you/and you know you hurt him too” - blame on both sides is much harder to take and grieve and its hard to know how to cope with that. it also makes advice more complicated because there isn’t much you can say to help

favourite lyric: “both of these things can be true” - always love duality and nuance in literature and its nice to hear it acknowledged in a climate of binary oppositions and no shades of grey

dorothea

nostalgia for the future

now prob my most listened, gets stuck in my head and one of the few i do listen to in isolation - like august

Reminds me so much of Ella - each other’s history, not each other’s whole future but in there somewhere

again sapphic vibes, real strong esp because of the ella vibes its the whole in between romantic and platonic affection

“hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me” - that’s the way I think of people I love esp ella and people from that era of my life, and anyone where its kinda open ended or just grown apart

favourite lyric: “and damn dorothea, they all wanna be ya”

coney island

instant fave - marked down from first listen and probably still one i actively look forward to

much like with exile, the male vocals GOT me

“did I shatter you” that line broke my goddamn heart

favourite lyrics: both for the sheer feelings of the vocals and the lyricism “were you standing in the hallway/with a big cake, happy birthday/did I paint your skies the darkest grey” and “and when I got into the accident/the sight that flashed before me was your face”

ivy

the way she sings goddamn could be the whole fucking song its so beautiful

“my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/taking mine, but it’s promised to another” - the passive here is great

“he wants what’s only yours”

the trilogy of these lyrics “what would he do if he found us out?”, “he’s gonna burn this house to the ground”, “and drink my husband’s wine”, the recklessness, the drinking his wine like a secret defiance

“my house of stone/your ivy grows/and now i’m covered in you” - fucking hell this is the best imagery - even with the strongest walls and foundations, the love crept through and grew inside her til she was covered in it

favourite lyric: quite literally just the words “oh, goddamn”

cowboy like me

“dancin’ is a dangerous game” - hell yeah I get so many feelings from this, it just reminds me of the intimacy of dancing and the feeling of swaying in someone’s arms

“and the skeletons in both our closets/plotted hard to fuck this up” - both like active interference of exes or just simply trauma, unresolved issues

“forever is the sweetest con” - believing hurts and everything ends but its worth it for the time you have

favourite lyrics: “now you hang from my lips/like the gardens of Babylon”

long story short

first notes make me think of between the saltmarsh and the sea even though its SO different but also a bit like august idk why

“if the shoe fits walk in it/til your high heels break” - i just love the imagery of this line

“fell down the rabbit hole” - living for this line and the wonderland vibe

“but if someone comes at us, this time i’m ready” - the vibe of like not looking for a fight but defending what you love

favourite lyric: “past me/I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things” - YES BITCH also the energy I give to past me and future me gives to me now or “long story short I survived”

marjorie

another song I come back to on its own

this is the exact wistful vibe i look for in calm ish songs, can be sad, can be happy depending on a mood and this is perfect

the video is incredible and marjorie providing the backing vocals made me cry also it being in the same place on the record as epiphany was on folklore

“never be so polite/you forget your power/never wield such power/you forget to be polite” - love the use of wield, it also feels like the medium women try to find between being a “bad bitch” and being ladylike, but not a medium society will accept bc fuck that, the exact way THEY wanna do it instead

really the song i needed after the year of so much grief, and i know it’s gonna bring me comfort when grandma goes, especially the line “what died didn’t stay dead”

favourite lyric: “watched as you signed your name: marjorie” - the way this is sung will literally stay with me forever, its like a legacy in one line

closure

again, instant fave

the vibe of you don’t owe someone shit just bc they feel guilty is so good

“yes I got your letter/yes I’m doing better” “I know that it’s over” - I’ve moved on and I don’t need your permission for that or your well wishes thanks

Moving on doesn’t mean forgiveness

I just love the melody so much and its such a good song agh

favourite lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life/staying friends would iron it out so nice”

evermore

“grey november/I’ve been down since July” - most explicit pandemicy vibes i get, I was home and it was almost possible to just regard it as a normalish summer, looking after the dog and living at home and now its coming up to Christmas and I’m living away from home, our family is split across 5 homes in 4 cities and its fucking hard (not even sure if its that type of down but that’s how it made me feel)

“writing letters/addressed to the fire” - literally just picked up on this lyric and has kinda a dual meaning for me. 1 -feeling shit about things you create, putting in effort, just to throw it away. 2 - tactic for tackling anxiety, just getting rid of thoughts and releasing them from my brain

“Cannot think of all the cost/And the things that will be lost/Oh, can we just get a pause?” - again, v pandemicy and so relevant to the fam’s 2018-2019, we just needed a pause, we had to keep going and not process what we’d lost or we’d never carry on

such a good depression song

favourite lyric: “staring out an open window/catching my death”

#ts9 #evermore #my thoughts on music #music #taylor swift lyrics #taylor swift #my writing

3 notes · View notes

brolinjosh · 5 years

Text

endgame review

i’ve waited 24 hours for my endgame feels to sink in. spoilers and strong opinions are under the cut.

first i need to start with the parts that i loved and that made the movie stand out and be memorable and parts that i immensely enjoyed:

- tony and nebula’s friendship and nebula’s arc later. she finally stopped being self destructive, lost the desire to please thanos and stood up for herself. she made a strong bond with gamora and even in the past, that bond stood out and it was beautiful. she got more screen time and stopped being just a weapon. got to play games, got to be appreciated for more than a good warrior. joked with people and made good friendships.

- tony telling steve off. tony stan here, but unbiased opinion is that him and steve had a falling out. steve stayed on earth and tony ended up stranded on an alien planet and nearly died. he is a non powered man and only had his armor and got stabbed by thanos and he has never felt more alone than when oxygen was slowly running out on him and nebula. he should have argued and called him out on them sticking together, and he had every right to do so.

- whole time travel thing. it was nostalgic, i am really glad they connected this, as last movie, to the previous ones. thor getting his moment with frigga, tony commenting on shape of steve’s ass, loki disappearing with tesseract, little things like that. they gave movie depth and not just thanos aftermath.

- steve had some show stopping scenes. telling himself he could do this all day and being tired of himself bc he knows how big of a pain in the ass he can be in the battle?? hell yes thank you. steve wielding mjolnir?? legit had me cheering, wig snatched.

- i genuinely liked thor’s arc. he lost everyone he had ever cared about, it was normal for him to be depressed and angry and that he had given up. i am glad rocket snapped him out of it because it gave rocket depth and we saw how deeply he connected to all of them and decided not to be an asshole and be kinder to people that surround him. it showed another part of them being a family and how even characters we never thought would love each other this way, ended up with an unbreakable bond that is more than just a team work.

- more screen time for underappreciated amazing characters, james rhodes, scott lang, clint barton. more of their interactions and showing how funny and smart they are??? they had my heart.

- i LOVED professor hulk. mark ruffalo finally got more screen time and it showed how smart bruce really is and that he is not just some likable guy who is intelligent, but not as much as other scientists (like scenes with shuri in infinity war that i loved because of shuri, but in past movies they downplayed his intellect a bit). i loved how he was more confident and at peace with himself.

- thanos!!! thanos remained a formidable villain and his arc was still the best villain arc in mcu. he is not easy to take on , he is a threat and he gave movie and everything that happened a meaning.

- best mcu scene to this day - strange opening portals and people passing through, ready to slay enemies. all united, all fighting together, all boosting and helping each other out in this final battle that we waited for 10 years??? literally killed every other movie battle ever. they have outdone themselves.

- peter seeing tony and talking about soul stone world, not realizing that everything was done for him and out of love for this amazing boy?? beautiful.

- TONY FUCKING STARK WIELDING INFINITY GAUNTLET. YES. had me yell at the screen, it was showstopping. my favorite scene ever in movie history. mere mortal taking on the fate of the world and killing every bad creature and smiting thanos himself. CONTENT I LIVE FOR.

- valkyrie a king??? hell yes, she deserved it. no one more than her.

now, things that ruined the movie for me and that i do not think i will easily accept or forgive:

- i understand that in the end, since natasha and clint went to vormir, in the end had me desiring that she would be the one to give up, since he has a family. but it’s not supposed to be that way. natasha seemed out of character the whole time. she was way more emotional, i partially understand because she lost everything and it has affected her more than anything ever. but it was bad writing. woman dying for shock value and to effect men??? why. she just started expressing herself and letting know people she loves them and really connected and bonded with them and have her go like that? as a sacrifice? uncalled for.

- pepper’s arc bugged me the whole time. woman who was there from the beginning to call tony out on his shit, also was a woman who stopped him from doing reckless things. she was always the one who kept arguing with him, literally in every movie, over his desire to save the world and to protect them. he told her he found a way to bring everyone back, but one word from her (something she was terrific at), and he would ditch it and stay with their family. and this is the first time she encouraged him to do something so reckless and it was poor overshadowing of his death and insanely out of character for her. she knew how it would end and she kept saving him from himself, because he was always terrified of losing her and in a way that stopped him from doing what he did years ago. they had a family and in the end . her showing up in an armor had me in tears, because that’s my gal, but also that is incredibly reckless and like she didn’t think things through in 2-3 scenes she had in the movie??

- i’m in it for tony. naturally i am upset. but not because he died, but because of HOW he died. naturally gauntlet took a toil on him. his body was combusting. it was devastating. what killed me was that pepper, love of his life, approached him and seemed like she had kind of a bad day. asked for his vitals and when told he is dying, she shed a tear and told him that he could rest. it blew my mind that she did not crumble in front of him, no “ i love you” nothing that would be her last words to him that showed him that he meant the world. he knew that, but would have been nice to have something like that. ALSO, him not being able to speak??? BEYOND OUTRAGED. no actual goodbyes, no him saying anything to the avengers, just lying like he had a stroke. the best character with the most complicated arc in the entire marvel universe and did something unimaginable and to have him just fall and not say goodbye or how he feels, or is he afraid of dying or what is happening to him??? “ i am iron man” is a great line for taking on thanos, but as last words while he is alive, unsatisfying and writing for shock value. peter crying, hugging him, apologizing , that was beautiful. everyone who he had just given his life for just standing aside, looking at him, shedding one tear???? steve? STEVE ROGERS???? JAMES RHODES??? no goodbyes between best friends, no them being wrecked and having breakdowns??? really?

- steve’s ending. it was the most out of character thing russos have ever done. they became famous for taking on characters in their own ways, but steve, person who had such strong relationships with tony, bucky and sam, leaving bucky and sam for a selfish cause of going back in time to a woman who already had a fulfilling life and found a way to live without him?? who had a husband and family? who was accomplished and her heartbreak over losing steve gave her depth and she got out stronger than ever. and he just went back and her whole history and family was erased for it, because he loved her and they shared one kiss a lifetime ago? steve going back to do this and not free bucky from hydra or help his best friend out, a man who he started civil war over and fought government for, steve leaving bucky and sam, people who have been with him through thick and thin, going back to indulge himself, thinking he cannot be happy in present, not thinking about two people who have to now live on without him? bucky who never got a decent time with him after ca:tfa, who’s life has been nothing but a shitstorm, now having to live without his best friend and only person that felt like a home? insanity. steve rogers, the most self-sacrificial, stubborn little shit, who gave enemies hell for people he cared about, leaving people behind? never.

in conclusion, for me movie did nothing but upset me, because i have invested 10 years into this, countless hours of writing meta and giffing scenes that went unnoticed, loving these characters, pouring my heart and soul and time into this, and for them to kill off people for shock value, natasha and tony, to have them fuck up steve’s arc beyond words, to end relationships or to make them meaningless.... they did pay an omage to previous movies, but not characters and how they were previously portrayed. tony, man who started mcu, should not die for us to be miserable bastards after spending so much time in this universe, he should have gotten to live a happy life with the family he had just started.

in the end, if anyone had to die, for me it was supposed to be both steve and tony, in a battle, bloody with glorious goodbyes, their last battle, showing each other how they would lay their lives so the other one lives, sacrificing for each other, but have both biggest characters die gloriously, not one like he had a stroke and second one grow old and selfish, abandoning his friends and family.

in the end, i did not like the movie. first marvel movie to this day that i didn’t like, because it was first that erased so many good things.

#SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT #usercherie #starksnstripes #scarlett-witches #review #avengers: endgame #endgame #ae #ae spoilers

132 notes · View notes

afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

Text

Truth Pt. 6

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, lots of feels, night terrors.

A/N: Yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh. Here’s a thing. It’s an intense thing. Though intense in a different way than Part 5.

@wonderlandmind4 and I were chatting about vulnerability and honestly, that’s kind of the entire point of this chapter. Because y’all, being vulnerable in front of someone is fucking HARD.

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @handplucked @buckysstar @sam-jae @marauder--harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

[Bucky]

Bucky wakes up drenched in sweat, shaking, throat raw.

“Sargent Barnes?” Jarvis intones in a way Bucky has heard far too many times.

“I’m… I’m good,” he pants not wanting Jarvis to call for back up.

“Sir if you don’t mind me-“

“Not now, Jarvis.” Jesus, even a dick to the computer aren’t you?

Jarvis had good reason for concern. This made five days straight, every night since that mission, he woke up screaming.

He braces his head between his knees, trying to get the tremors to calm. Counting, holding his breath the right way, all the different coping tools his therapist taught him. Sometimes though… you just needed to beat the shit out of something.

He looks at his phone, 2:45 in the morning. It was after midnight when he’d gone to bed so the dream couldn’t have been going on for more than an hour and a half… it felt like a lifetime.

A flash of it plays in his mind: Dancing with Nancy, she was pretty and witty, had real moxie, he’d always liked his women with a little bite. As they danced though she aged in his arms until she was nothing but a wrinkled corpse, a reminder of what he should be now. Then the body morphed into that woman from the facility, skin red and painful to see, the power you so effortless wielded tearing her apart from the inside out. But… It was her eyes… they sparkled like yours. He shudders and bolts for the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

When he looks in the mirror he can’t help but stare. It always felt like the image was wrong somehow like a double exposure of almost the same exact shot so things were just a little off. On the one hand, he looked so much like the pictures in the museums, only a handful of years older, same dark hair, same eyes. He was even getting grey in his beard at the same spot his pa had. On the other, there was a coldness, something not quite human there he thought. Something broken.

Can’t focus on that. He felt like he was about to snap and that was never good. He pulls on some sweat pants and throws his hair up before heading to the elevator.

“Training ground, please.” The elevator moves. Even the AI wasn’t talking to him. Great.

On the way down Bucky tries to get ahold of himself. His right-hand keeps trembling, other images from the dream popping up as soon as he thinks he’s cleared it from his head. That fucking chair. Jarvis was going to suggest an appointment with his therapist, it probably wasn’t a bad idea, not that he thought it would do any good.

The doors slide open and he trudges out, not focused on anything around him. Because of this when he walks into the gym he’s a little taken back by the image of you sitting on the ground, back against the wall, and the meat locker temperature of the place making goosebumps rise on his skin.

He hadn’t seen you at all since the mission. Really, he hadn’t seen much of anyone. Steve hadn’t mentioned you and he was worried that maybe you had been disciplined on his account. He understood why you lashed out at him, they didn’t. But he knew logically that wasn’t how things worked here.

You look up, eyes red-rimmed, sweat glistening on your skin. Even in this state it still takes him a second to get his bearings. You were so striking, beautiful…

There’s a part of him that wishes you were happy to see him so it hurts that the look you cast is venomous. Which is stupid, you have every right to hate the sight of him after the way he behaved.

Your tone says it all when you rasp, “Of fucking course. Almost 100 stories and here you are.”

“Nice to see you too.” Even if it was deserved he’s not in the mood. “You done fucking up every punching bag we have,” he gestures to the pile of busted ones in the corner, “or do you plan on leaving some for the other kids to play with?” Can you not be civil for one second?! He inwardly berates himself.

“Have at it,” you say standing. He notes the way your body shakes. “Not like it’s helping me any.”

As you pass him he grabs your right arm gently, metal flexing around your wrist, “Wait,” he says softly needing to make amends.

White streaks of light pulse up your arm for an instant. “Let go of me, Barnes,” you growl. It feels like a slap.

“So I’m Barnes again?” For a second you shoot daggers at him and he thinks you’re going to snipe back. Instead, you sigh and look at the floor, seeming to wilt as you let the breath out. He releases you.

Slowly you lift your gaze to meet his. Your eyes are glassy, brimming with tears, and so very haunted. “Sorry,�� you croak out and his chest constricts. He watches you, your eyes shift suddenly every few seconds as if to track something that’s clearly not there. Damn.

“What’re you seeing?” He asks softly. This was something his therapist had suggested when he first got to the tower and was crashing with Steve. If he was in a flashback talk it out.

You shudder and focus on a point beyond him, “Han… handlers.” These were a very specific breed of Hydra agent trained to keep their assets, in line. They were the ones with their little red books and ‘magic’ words. This could be very bad.

“Are they giving you orders?” A flashback could include auditory hallucinations. His had at the beginning, they almost wiped him, it was horrific. You purse your lips and shake your head no. “That’s good.”

Pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes you let out a low scream and thud to the ground. You bury your face in your knees and for an instant, you pulse, one solid light all over despite your attempts to freeze the power down. Shit. This is bad.

“I just want them to go away. I need it to go away. I just want to fucking sleep.” You’re rocking back and forth, a low keening coming from you. He had thought he was about to snap earlier. You were already fraying.

“Y/N,” he crouches in front of you, worried that if he touches you it will set you off and that would be… well a promise, the only one he made you, broken in a little over a week. You could level this building. “Look at me.”

When your eyes meet his, your pupils are blown out, adrenaline pumping hard through your system. He needs to bring you down but he needs to know how far gone you are.

“How long have you been without sleep?”

“I… I… slept with you. I mean…”

He smiles a little, “Yeah. I know what you mean. And since?” Your eyes shift, invisible enemies moving behind him. “Eyes on me,” he says firmly.

It takes effort, he can tell, but you move them to his. “It’s… I…” You pause thinking, “I mean here and there… bits. Not all since…” Another tremor rocks you, you don’t pulse but the tendrils of light on your skin glow bright. “They’re always… there.” Something like a sob comes from you, you cover your mouth reeling in any further expressions. He aches for you.

“Who’s there?”

You look at him, expression begging for understanding, “All. Of. Them.” He does understand. Your eyes clench shut. The nightmares are everywhere for you so it doesn’t matter if your eyes are open or not. “Her,” you manage, voice cracking.

“Me too,” he whispers. Your eyes open, little sparks there just around the pupil.

Your mouth opens and closes as if you can’t find the words. Finally, “She… she was like me… and I…”

“Saved my dumb ass is what you did.” Bucky offers you a smile. He doesn’t know if this will comfort you but he feels he should say it, “And saved her from more suffering.”

You scoff, “How fucked is it when you can’t tell the difference between murder and kindness…”

He just stares at you. Unable to formulate a suitable response. Because the real answer was that sometimes… there wasn’t a difference.

Suddenly you lean forward and grab his hand, he flinches a bit, worried about your stability. Your gaze is steady for the first time though, “Promise me something… please… please, Bucky…” You’re… begging.

He gives your hand a squeeze, “Anything.” He means this. Anything you asked of him he would do.

“Don’t let me become that again…” His brows knit. “I’d rather be dead than theirs ever again. Please…”

He stares into your eyes, for an instant they’re the woman’s from the facility, dead, dark, the feeling of his fingers closing them forever. He shudders, unsure if he could do the same to you.

“Bucky promise me…” your tone is desperate and your skin begins to lift to that solid glow.

It’s reckless, he knows this, but his body moves of its own volition taking your face gently in his hands. His eyes burn with tears that he won’t let fall and he kisses your lips softly, you press back into the kiss to his surprise, and his heart lifts a touch. He pulls back looking at you, still cradling your face. Your eyes are wide, the dark circles under them making them all the more haunted, screaming for his answer, but you aren’t glowing and that was good.

“I will never let them take you, Y/N… ever. I swear that to you.” He hopes you don’t call him out on his wording. While he means this, has possibly never meant something so fully in his long life, he won’t kill you to keep you from them. Burn every bit of Hydra from the face of the planet? Now that was a different story.

[Reader]

You swallow hard. The sincerity in his voice and his steady stare calms a part of the storm raging in you. In place of the swirl of fear, dread, and panic however you begin to feel how much your whole body hurts.

It’s as though every hair follicle aches, muscles throb from being constantly tense, head pounding from exhaustion, your skin raw on the inside from the power ceaselessly pulsing within you, and that makes you think of her all over again… You feel like you’re going to be sick. Bile rises in your throat, you force it down pulling away.

Reluctantly he lets your face go. You lean to the side, hands flat on the floor, staring at the concrete, and heave a little, trying to ground yourself here and not lose what little dignity you had left at this moment. His right-hand lights gently on your back, the touch sending not unpleasant shivers through you.

“It’s ok,” he says softly, “let it out if you have to. I’m sure as shit not going to judge.” You snort out something like a laugh.

He sighs, “When’s the last time you ate?” All you can manage is a shrug. Yesterday, maybe was the answer. You weren’t trying since nothing stayed down long.

“Ok, look at me, doll.” Doll. He’d called you that the night you were together… you kind of liked it. You do as he asks, turning to him slowly but remaining slumped over.

The fingers of his right-hand stroke the hollow of your cheek. “Is there… someone you… talk to. A-”

“Shrink?” You cut him off.

“Yeah,” he says. You don’t have the energy to explain you’d seen her twice since but here you were. Instead, you just nod. “I assume you’ve,” you nod again. He sits cross-legged, “Doesn’t always do much for me either…” It wasn’t her fault you think. She just hadn’t been equipped to deal with the level of fucked you brought to the table.

He rubs his right hand over his eyes, almost as sunken as your own. That mission did a number on him too, hence why he was here.

“I’m sorry,” you say, righting yourself carefully, to maintain your delicate equilibrium.

“For what?” Bucky’s face knits in confusion.

“You’re dealing with your own shit, you didn’t need me to come and dump mine on you too…” You were sure you could find room to tuck this guilt in with the other menagerie of painful emotions inside you.

“You didn’t dump,” he shakes his head, “I asked. And… like I said… you saved my life… hell, theirs too.” His gaze is intense, “We both know you did even if no one else does. I think that allows for just a little dumping.”

All you can manage, once again, is a shrug. You knew you’d saved him. He’d be dead in the bottom of a crater had you not turned back. A wave of exhaustion hits you and you sway a bit closing your burning eyes. This was sort of like being drunk, you think, only far less fun.

You feel his right-hand slip around your left, “Will you let me return the favor?” Opening your eyes, you stare at him, unsure of his meaning for a second. Oh.

It was true you could go longer than the average human without sleep or much sustenance but you were still for all accounts and purposes a human, you had limits, ones you were coming dangerously close to.

Part of you wants to ask how he intends to return it, wanting to know if its a kindness you can tolerate. Instead, some other part of you nods yes. Agreeing without consulting your greater whole to let someone in.

“Come on then,” he stands, extending his left hand. You take it and pull yourself up, relying on its seeming immovability. Still, you tilt precariously, having moved a bit too fast for your body which was now barreling toward a full shut down.

Without word or warning, he slips his right arm behind your knees and lifts your unresisting frame into his arms. You bury your face in his chest, so past caring, breathing in the smell of him, and grasping his shirt with your fist.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispers as he steps into the elevator. “You’re safe.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #the winter solider x reader

168 notes · View notes

queerhargreeves · 5 years

Text

hiya i wrote a fic at 4:30 am bc i have emotions and i need more hargreeves bonding but specifically vanya/diegos relationship!!! this fic is sorta all over the place so i apologize for the errors !!

——————————————————————————

After avoiding the end of the world the Hargreeves decided that there was no better time than now to attempt to fix their estranged relationship. After 17 years of no communication then being forced into such a high intensity situation, to say they deserved some time together was an understatement.

It had been a few months since the alleged end of the world and they all made it a habit to go out to dinner at least once a week together. Especially now that they’re all living under one roof it made things easier. They needed some time to recover to which Pogo and Grace happily obliged in their request to stay for a bit. They were all learning how to get along better - all improving in their communication skills after 30 years of being emotionally stunted. However their biggest arguments were always over where to eat. Klaus always wanted tacos, Allison usually wanted Thai food, Five just wanted a solid cup of coffee he didn’t really care where, Vanya always just said “I don’t care wherever you want”, and the rest of them agreed with whatever happened.

Tonight they settled on a Vietnamese restaurant so Diego could “get his pho on” after a few weeks of complaining.

“KLAUS GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE.” Diego exclaimed, waiting approximately seven seconds before screaming again.

“IF YOU DON’T GET DOWN HERE WE’RE GONNA LEAVE WITHOUT YOU!” Diego grabbed his coat, tossing the keys to Five. Which was quickly followed by the click clack of Klaus’ black booties.

“Yes brother dearest I heard you the first time!” Klaus made it to the bottom of the stairs and did a twirl, showing off his (Allison’s) black skirt and gave an expectant look to his brother.

“Nice outfit.” Diego said with a nod, “Now get in the car, princess. I need pho in me. Stat.”

“Yessir~”

All seven of the siblings piled into their new van which could actually fit all of them. Allison said it was a present for everyone but really it was for Five. Driving always seemed to calm him down and helped clear his head when he got too caught up in himself.

The ten minute drive went by pretty quickly as the hot topic conversation was about whether or not sriracha belonged in pho. Luther was the only one opposed to the idea to which Ben added was due to his “unfortunate Caucasian genes”. Klaus happily translated that.

They made their way out of the van and walked through the parking structure. As they turned a corner and got closer to their destination they heard a chorus of shouts and a sea of red hats right outside of the restaurant.

“Is that what I think it is?” Luther asked out loud, his voice at least an octave higher than normal in disbelief at the scene in front of him.

“BUILD THAT WALL. BUILD THAT WALL. KEEP THEM OUT” was being chanted, the sea of people held out signs that had things written along the lines of “secure USA boarders” and “keep illegals out”

“LOOK, THERE’S AN ILLEGAL OVER THERE!” A large, middle aged white man yelled into his megaphone and pointed right at Diego. The entire crowd shifted their attention to the seven siblings, Diego in the front.

“SHOW US YOUR DOCUMENTS FILTHY FUCK!” Another man shouted with nothing but pure venom in his voice.

Diego clenched his jaw, his entire body tense. Vanya, surprising to everyone, was the first one to defend their brother.

“Don’t you guys have better things to do then spew hate? You’re not proving anything other than your ignorance.” Vanya was absolutely fuming but she managed to keep her voice calm and level, leaving the group behind and walking right up to the man. She placed herself less than two inches away from his face, looking up with a hand on her hip.

“That little be*ner over there is stealing our jobs, little miss,” he poked Vanya’s shoulder, “I’d advise you get the fuck out of my face before I call ICE on his ass.”

“My brother has every right to here here just as you or I do. Legal or not, he’s a human being. Imagine not having the basic human decency to realize everyone is a person. You should be ashamed.” Vanya could feel her heart pounding with each word that was said.

“We need to build the wall to keep all illegals out. No more brown fuckers stealing our jobs. This is MY AMERICA!” The man hissed, spit hitting her cheek.

A car horn went off and trees started rustling, her anger becoming more evident. Allison quickly ran to the scene, grabbing Vanya’s hand and tearing her away from the situation before she had a chance to respond.

“C’mon, these assholes don’t deserve our energy.” She signed, knowing Vanya always calmed down when she signed. It helped her feel more connected to her sister and it made her situation easier to accept.

Vanya was shaking at this point as she walked back, still hand in hand with her sister.

“We should leave.” Klaus said shakily, both Ben and his hand on Diego’s shoulder.

“V-Vanya. I-I can’t” Diego started but stopped himself, his words not cooperating with him right now. He immediately wrapped his arms around his sister, holding her tight. “Tha-thank you.” His voice was muffled in her shoulder and it was evident he was holding back tears.

“You don’t need to thank me, silly.” Vanya replied, slowly breaking out of the hug. She looked up at her brother and wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall

“Let’s go get your pho someplace else, yeah?”

Vanya offered her brother a soft smile to which he returned with a nod.

The siblings made their way back to the van, all making sure to be extra kind to Diego. They knew when their brother was and wasn’t okay.

They went to a “better” restaurant according to Klaus’ intensive yelp research. Once in the restaurant Klaus was the first to speak up.

“I’m,” he paused, not even sure where to begin, “I can’t believe people like that still exist.”

“I can, unfortunately.” Allison signed, giving her brother an understanding look. She has faced her fair share of racism not just in the public eye, but also in her personal life as well. Being a black woman isn’t the easiest experience either.

“I can’t believe we saved the world so rodents like that can spew their nonsense.” Five added, taking a sip of his coffee. “But you know they’re wrong right..? I mean, of course you do. But I understand how sometimes we all need to be affirmed.”

They all turned expectantly at their brother who hadn’t said more than a few words since the incident. Often times when Diego got emotional his words would fail him, they knew that. They learned over the years to be patient when that happened. It made Diego feel weak. Vulnerable. Not like a knife wielding badass he is but so much smaller than that. He felt like it reduced him to nothing more than broken syllables and incoherent sentences.

“I-I kn-kn-know,” Diego started, signing as he spoke in case some things got lost in translation. “I’ve seen th-those types o-on the news b-b-but,” he sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the next part of the sentence “ex-exp-experiencing it is d-different.”

Vanya nodded and put her hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. She couldn’t imagine what experiencing something like that would be like. Seeing a group of people who think you shouldn’t exist. A group of people who vocalize that you are unimportant, less than. Well maybe she did know a thing to two about that, but not to that overwhelming degree.

“It’s a good thing Vanya went up first because I was about 2 seconds way from beating their ass. Not that you couldn’t have done it yourself.” Luther was still visibly upset as he spoke, his grip on his water tightening.

As if in cue their food came. The waiter brought over 6 bowls of piping hot pho, placing it in front of the siblings.

It didn’t take long before Diego’s mouth was full of noodles and the only thing heard were the sounds of slurps from each of their mouths. They ate in relative silence until they finished.

“I-I want to uh,” Diego began as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, all heads turning to him, “thank you guys. Really.”

They all smiled at their brother, receiving a chorus of “of course” and “shut up dummy” phrases. He laughed and shook his head, relishing in this moment together.

After all that they’ve been through there was no way they were going to let a group of ungrateful, hateful, ignorant people ruin their pho time. And his siblings made sure of that.

#i hope this isnt too awful #i just love supoortive hargreeves a lot #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #i want that all of klaus outfits pls #allison hargreeves #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #tua #tua fic #the umbrella academy fanfiction

70 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Steady as Stars: Tragen Meta

So time to ramble about Tragen because I am overly attached to this goober and have TOO MANY FEELINGS. Quick note, everything about his home planet is my own headcanon bc canon and Legends diverge pretty sharply so I just said “Screw allll of it” and am doing my own thing 😎 Also, i tried to keep some sense of order to it, but did not 100% succeed. Lots of parenthetical asides incoming.

Brief backstory, for anyone who’s not familiar with my wonderful paladin son, Tragen is from Stenos, which is in the Outer Rim, right on the edge of Imperial space. They remained neutral during the Great Galactic War, but did host several Imperial supply lines. These supply lines eventually wound up integral to Stenosi economy, which the Empire used to blackmail them into actually joining shortly before the Treaty of Coruscant was signed.

Tragen’s love of the stars goes back to his childhood, but up until about 10 years old, it was just typical child’s awe and wonder at how many there were all the different places you could go among them, that sort of thing. Around ten is when the Empire started really pressuring Stenos to join, making threats, etc. This wasn’t common knowledge, but since Tragen’s parents were both high ranked government officials/nobility(the two are somewhat linked on Stenos; there’s the king/queen, their inner circle, and then a moderately-sized parliament of sorts drawn from the nobility. I’m still hashing out all the details, but that’s the basics), he’d hear them talking behind closed doors or after they thought he and his sister were asleep. They were worried the Empire would actually attack or invade or something like that, based off the displeasure the Imperial diplomat was conveying.

With the planet/culture’s future uncertain, Tragen started really appreciating the stars’ constancy. They’re always there, always the same, even if you can’t see them or are looking from a different angle. They’ve been there for ages and will be for ages more, and he finds that comforting.

Even moreso after the Imperial diplomat discovers how important the supply lines are to the economy and blackmails Stenos into joining the Empire with that knowledge. There are assurances things won’t change, of course, or at least won’t change much, but they do. And that’s before the Sith start looking for Force Sensitives. It’s very disconcerting for an acquaintance to be there one day and not the next. There are so many rumors about what happens to the people who go with the Sith(willing or no), it’s impossible to figure out the truth. With all the uncertainty, and his parents working even longer hours trying to merge Imperial statutes with Stenosi culture, Tragen finds even more comfort in the stars. Everything else might be changing, but they don’t.

And then the Sith find him. It takes a little over two years from winning Stenos to the Empire for the Imperials to work their way bottom of society to top looking for potential Sith, but Tragen’s one of the first they find when they finally get to the nobility/officials. By this point, the Imperials have abandoned all pretense of this ‘honor’ being optional, and so off Tragen goes to Ziost at thirteen years old. (He doesn’t want to, but loyalty/honor/duty are so central to Stenosi culture his father uses those to talk him down from a full-on freakout and into at least accepting this new path for his life, even if he doesn’t love it)

Tragen is not particularly gifted with the Force. It’s there, he has a decent enough connection to... amplify other things(ala Force scream, etc), but his real saving grace talent is martial combat. He’s been trained with a blade since he could hold one, is extremely observant and good at reading body language, and has a good head for strategy/thinking on his feet. The Sith training is where he’s introduced to the idea of dual-wielding(he’s ambidextrous, which is why one instructor suggests it), which is the only enjoyable thing about it.

Right from the start, Tragen has to hide his true self, bury it beneath a mask of anger and hatred he doesn’t really feel. He knows if he lets it slip he’s dead. He’s watched it happen; decent people who couldn’t ‘get over’ their scruples fast enough fall in duels to fellow acolytes who did, or are cut down by trainers as an example. He skates the edge of discovery the entire seven years he’s there; beating opponents to unconsciousness(so he doesn’t get stabbed in the back) but never killing anyone if can be avoided, claiming it’s so they have to wallow in the humiliation of defeat and/or “I rather like them owing me their life”. Still, he gets lectured multiple times about this merciful “flaw” he has.

During this time, he clings to the stars; to knowing that even when they’re hidden they’re still there, still shining bright, still the same. Just like him, sometimes their true nature is obscured or the constellations aren’t where you expect. bc you’re looking at them from somewhere different. None of that changes them, just how/if people see them.

Tragen’s survival tactic of hiding behind a mask of expected emotions he doesn’t really feel gets tested to its limit once Tremel summons him to the Academy for his trials, especially after Baras takes an interest in him. He’s constantly trying to outfox one of the most paranoid and brilliant Darths around, and sweats bullets the first few times he’s near the man. Once it starts to seem like Baras isn’t suspicious of him, Tragen relaxes ever so slightly. Not enough to do anything stupid, just enough he’s not a mess of suspicious tension every time he’s in his master’s presence. (And let’s not get into how hard the whole ‘wish the Jedi found you instead of the Sith’ thing with Dorgis hit him bc I’ll get too emotional to function. So many feeling for this dork.)

It’s a little easier once he picks up Vette. He doesn’t entirely drop his guard or his mask around her, but she at least is okay when he does nice/reasonable things, instead of lecturing about how he’s a terrible Sith yada yada. The two of them strike up a friendship pretty fast(she reminds him of his sister, actually), and Vette is usually the one to tag along when Tragen leaves the ship, even after Quinn joins.

It’s a still-tricky balancing act to accomplish enough of Baras’ objectives he doesn’t get suspicious while not violating his own code, but somehow Tragen manages. He leaves everyone alive he can, trotting out the ‘yes, but now they owe me their lives, giving me power and humiliating them’ excuse when needed. The entirely of looking for Jaesa, he’s adamant and upfront that he just wants to talk to her, leaves everyone alive(even makes Master Yonlach question his view of Sith :3) and resolves things as peacefully as he can. Even when faced with Jedi who are raring to fight and operating with the bias Sith = evil(tbf, he’s a rare exception...), Tragen always tries to talk things out first. He’s found pointing out he’s acting more Jedi-like than them works really, really well. On the whole, his conscience is pretty happy with how the search for Jaesa is going, though it does make him uneasy when he hears Baras got his hands on her parents. There isn’t really anything he can do at that point, so he just has to hope for the best and keep going.

While he is happy with the increased freedom and decreased oversight of having his own ship and underlings to do his job, it’s still lonely. He can’t completely relax on the ship, and he’s so used to having his mask up, he can’t bring himself to drop it around people, even Vette. Quinn there’s the obvious reasons(the man’s born and bred Imperial AND owes Baras his career; there’s no way Tragen’s trusting him with this), but Vette it’s more... worrying she’d accidentally spill the beans. She’s such a chatterbox and very impulsive, so even though he thinks she’d try to keep his secret, he’d rather not take chances with something this dangerous. This means the only time Tragen can drop the facade and be himself is when he’s alone, in his cabin, with only the stars for company. This adds a layer to his love of them; alone with the stars is the only place he can be honest, and living this lie is so exhausting he treasures those moments more than he can say.

He’s very used to opponents(especially Jedi) jumping to conclusions about him based purely on him being Sith, so Nomen Karr’s reaction on Hutta is.. expected At least, the initial hostility is. Tragen tries and tries and tries to be reasonable and just talk to the man, but Karr doesn’t cooperate. That he starts calling on the dark side is a bit of a surprise(not a huge one, though; a lot of the Jedi Tragen’s met have been hypocrites, and he could sense Karr’s pride and anger from the start), but Tragen is a skilled enough swordsman(I guess swordsman still applies to lightsabers??) he handles it.

Then Jaesa shows up. Tragen sends Vette to check in with the soldiers outside, and for the first time in eight years, drops his facade. If Jaesa can sense a being’s true nature anyway, there’s no point fighting it, and he hopes a gesture of trust like this will convince her(I did a lot of flashpoints/side quests etc with him, so he’s Light II by this point, better than a lot of my SWs). Dropping his guard like this makes him feel exposed, vulnerable. Naked, almost. He’s been so hidden for so long behind that mask, it’s mildly terrifying to let go of it.

*ahem* (But trusting Jaesa feels right, and safe, and this was the best course of action, right?)

(Wrong. She’s confused this Sith reads as merciful and compassionate against Master Karr’s arrogance and rage, and attacks him anyway)

During their fight, Tragen can’t help but admire her form; he knows dualsabers are tricky to wield and she’s very good. Good enough that it’s a challenge to beat her without hurting her(too much). By this point, Vette’s brought the Imperial soldiers back in, so he has to hide how giddy he is when Jaesa agrees to join him and help change the Empire from within.

(Having her along is like surfacing for air after much too long underwater.)

It’s a little bit... cautious at first--they can’t speak freely enough on the ship to really connect. Tragen does encourage her to have confidence in herself; she’s grown since her days as a handmaiden, and understands all too well her struggles with pretending to be something she’s not. A lot of the advice he gives her is the same things he’s clung to for years(”Keep your eyes on the goal” and “masks worn for survival are different than those worn for personal gain”) Jaesa has a million questions and Tragen’s dying to talk to someone he can be himself around, but they don’t get a chance until Taris. Tragen marks a couple firsts for me there; minorly, he’s my first male toon who did the planet arc but didn’t flirt with Thana, and more importantly: first Sith Warrior to talk every. single. War Trust target into surrendering. He didn’t kill a single one. (which I didn’t know was possible until him; I thought at least one of them[Frelka] fighting was unavoidable, but he did it.) This is where Jaesa starts accompanying him pretty much everywhere(she’s his apprentice, why shouldn’t she?) and they start building up trust and friendship and she gets a real look at his character.

Tragen keeps his word to the Siantide miners, shows restraint, and is basically the least Sith-y Sith Jaesa’s ever seen, let alone met. This is what brings her curiosity out in Shining Bright. That conversation opens the floodgates and they talk freely as they work their way through Taris, a freedom both miss once they’re back on the Empire Dawn. But even if Pierce’s quarters weren’t right next to Jaesa’s, being more open is not a good idea. Too much risk.

It is, however, very difficult to keep their conversation quiet when Jaesa tells him about the other light-leaning Sith. Tragen’s ecstatic (and relieved) to know he’s not the only one(also, impressed by how much stronger + more skilled Jaesa’s gotten with her power). He’s very eager with his encouragement she keep looking, and so giddy when she actually finds them, they’re both equally to blame for Pierce almost catching them. (It’s very hard for a pair of excited 21 year olds to keep their voices down) He sends her to make contact with these light-leaning Sith and paces his cabin in antsy, impatient circles until she gets back.

Thanks to their Force bond, Tragen can tell even before Jaesa boards the Dawn that something’s wrong. When she tells him how badly her attempt went, the first words out of his mouth are reassuring her this wasn’t her fault. She tried, and no matter the outcome, that was the right thing to do. (He does hug her, even if it’s risky, just for a moment. She’s his friend and she’s hurting, he doesn’t care if it raises suspicions)

(side note: this is where the first seeds of Jaesa falling for him are planted, when her feelings matter more than her failure, even if she doesn’t realize it until years later)

Disappointed as they might be by this setback, there’s not much they can do about it(both somehow find solace in the stars, though neither mentions it), so they soldier on. Both improve in combat prowess, Jaesa’s strength with her power grows, they become uncannily good at working as a team. (this is part experience and part Force bond--Tragen might barely be decent at most Force stuff, but he and Jaesa bond STRONG)

It’s almost a relief when Baras tries to kill him. He can stop even pretending loyalty. Though he does find it deeply ironic the Emperor’s Hand reaches out to recruit as Wrath someone so diametrically opposed to Sith values. He shares Jaesa’s excitement for potential influence he can wield, being so high-ranked and even less subject to oversight bc who’s gonna be brave enough to question the Emperor’s Wrath? Between that and Lord Emmoridg reaching out to Jaesa, Tragen’s actually feeling good about their chances at reforming the Empire. It turns out a bit more complicated than he’s anticipating--while there’s less oversight, there’s also a stricter and more definite set of expectations placed on the Emperor’s Wrath than on a run of the mill Lord. Expectations that are harder to look like he’s fulfilling while actually subverting.

Belsavis, for example. Tragen has no problem or qualms about killing Ekkage. And he knows Jaesa’s not going to tell anyone how readily he partnered with a Jedi(who he not only let live, but parted on good terms with) to achieve his goals. But he didn’t kill Col. Trill for not helping him, and he lets Lord Melicost walk away, and he has no guarantee those actions won’t raise eyebrows. Sure he can argue he doesn’t want to weaken the Empire/Sith in their war with the Republic, but a) it doesn’t stop other Sith and b) he has a history of being less brutal than a Sith should. With being Wrath now, Tragen’s starting to really stress over the balance and his facade is straining him to the breaking point.

The stars remain a huge comfort to him. He spends a lot on his time on the ship just sitting in his cabin and staring out the viewport(he calls it meditating if anyone other than Jaesa asks). The stars are still there, still the same. The constellations and which ones he can see might be different depending on where in the galaxy he is, but even when he can’t see them, he knows they’re still there. Still magnificent and beautiful no matter what happens. That thought is one of the few things that keeps him going strong.

Another is his friends. Tragen is all too happy to help Vette find her family(it makes him miss his even more) and backs her up in her reluctance to seek revenge for her mother’s death. The two of them are pretty close, and Vette always manages to make him smile, so helping her is no trouble at all. There are times Tragen wonders if she suspects how truly un-Sithy he is, but he can never quite bring himself to admit it to her for sure. That mask is such habit, it stays on around everyone.

Except Jaesa. Even if their Force Bond and her power didn’t make hiding things an exercise in futility, they’re a team and Tragen a) trusts her and b) is eternally grateful to have someone he can be himself around. Completely himself. And he feels like no matter how daunting this goal of reforming the entire Empire is, with her as his partner it’s possible. Jaesa found the light-leaning Sith, Jaesa reached out to them. Despite the initial disaster, she’s the one Lord Emmoridg reaches out to and she’s the one who keeps in touch with him.

Tragen is feeling very good about about their goals and actually starting to hope he won’t have to hide forever when they learn about Cendence. Jaesa is so distraught when relaying her encounter with the tortured and dying apprentice, Tragen shuts and locks the door under the pretense of meditating so he can comfort her without being disturbed. Knowing there’s a Sith out there hunting down ‘their kind’ is more than a little troubling(terrifying is the word he would use), but Tragen’s too busy with the Hand’s assignments to do anything about it, so he entrusts this foe to Jaesa. He knows she can handle it. She a gifted Force-user, skilled saberist, and stronger than she realizes. He’s so proud of her when she goes face to face with Cendence and beats him bc he knew she could do it.

Regarding the Quincident--bc how do you meta a Sith Warrior without touching on the Quincident?--Tragen of course forgives him. Has to dress it in the usual ‘Your life is mine now’ rhetoric, but he’s secretly amused at the irony. Baras is the Proper Sith(TM) between the two of them, is more in line with Sith values and would technically be the right choice by that metric. Tragen’s just more powerful--even if it’s still more combat skill instead of the Force. (He’s better with the Force than he used to be, but still largely relies on lightsabers. He’s more comfortable with blades)

After defeating Baras(which is a relief) and being confirmed as Wrath by the Dark Council(which is stressful af), Tragen takes a long time wrestling with how to balance his goals and his new position. Yes, he has more influence, but people will also be more wary/skeptical that the EMPEROR’S WRATH is light-leaning and trying to change things,and he’s pretty sure the more times he’s merciful, the more questions will be raised. If he and Jaesa thought what Emmoridg is doing is dangerous, training LS Sith right under the Council’s nose, this is.... too perilous for words. He actually talks to the Emperor. Tragen interacts with Vitiate; pure, remorseless evil and incredibly powerful, who he’s actively working to undermine. It makes the next few years extremely harrowing, but at least things are never boring(and most of his orders--what few there are--come through the Hand, so he doesn’t talk to Vitiate MUCH). The only thing that keeps all his plans from crashing down and totally wasting the years of wearing his mask, is that the Wrath is allowed to maintain autonomy rather than being bound to Vitiate’s will via dark side rituals. That would have led to his discovery and torture/execution, Tragen is 100% sure. Even as things stand he has to be incredibly careful.

It helps him immensely that Jaesa’s sticking around; both for her help with their goals and just bc Tragen values her as a partner. He admires her growth and resilience, she admires his bravery and sacrifice(both admire the other’s inner strength), they work fantastically well as a team--by the SoR prelude they can practically read each other’s minds, and his future plans rely heavily on her being there. Which she’s all too happy to do.

(both of them are halfway in love at this point and both are completely oblivious to it. There’s no pining--yet--bc neither has a clue the true nature of their feelings-- largely bc they both come from planets where marriages are usually for politics over love, and then their respective orders; the Sith encourage lust, not love, and the Jedi ofc with their acting like Love Is Bad Bc Attachments)

I’m toying with headcanon-ing that Tragen’s acquaintance with Lana and Theron starts with the Depths of Manaan flashpoint, bc I’m verrryyyy conflicted about him doing Attack on Tython. It feels OOC for him(I played him through it, but it didn’t sit right >.>).Whatever I do there, his familiarity with Vitiate’s nature makes him all the more frantic to stop Revan bc seriously, man, you don’t know what you’re doing, this is going to end so very VERY badly. He is, of course, right, and he hates it.The disgust he’s always felt for Vitiate multiplies exponentially at the end, when Mr. Embodiment of Pure Evil and Dickishness escapes and promises to consume his Wrath last since Tragen’s “special” to him(which makes his skin crawl; he doesn’t want to be valued by something so evil). And like all my Force-users, Ziost hits him really hard. He’s more familiar with how evil Vitiate is, so on that score he’s braced himself. But even with his mediocre Force connection, all of that terror and death so fast hits him hard--though not as hard as it hits Jaesa. She goes catatonic for a little bit, which scares Tragen half to death. It’s only about 5-10 minutes, but he recovered in under a minute, so it still feels like an eternity. And she’s quiet and closed off the rest of the day.

The one good thing to come out of SoR-RotE (aside from new friends), is Tragen can now openly, full-throttle oppose Vitiate and it’s okay. More than okay, Darth Marr himself approves. And being the Empire’s Wrath instead of the Emperor’s has him back with the increased leeway to do his own thing which makes it possible to work(still subtly) toward reforming the Empire. And he’s more sure they need it than ever now; with Vitiate out there as a threat, he’s pretty sure the Empire and Republic will have to ally again to deal with him. That’ll be much easier to do it they aren’t so wildly different. His progress may be measured in inches, but he has time; he’s not going anywhere.

Or so he thinks.

(KotFE onward coming soon in a separate post)

#queen in space #tragen xo'ric #wow that's a lot #tolja i have many MANY feelings about my boy here #otp: my north star

8 notes · View notes

mairzymarzipan · 5 years

Text

Night of the Full Moon Character Reviews- Classes

It’s about time I finally get on this. I’ve been wanting to start these reviews for a while, but personal stuff came up, and then worries about the future of my blog. But things are finally sussing out so- why the fuck not now?

And naturally I’ll be talking about the characters. Other folks are talking about gameplay itself and strategy, but I kind of love these characters. Some of them have really fucked up stories. There seems to be some translation weirdness(this is actually a Chinese game), but I feel like there was a love when crafting these stories. I’ll just talk about mechanics when I feel it’s important for the plot.

And who better to start with the heroine herself?

Night of the Full Moon is sort of a cross between a TCG and a roguelike. The cards you stumble on, the events that happen and the people you meet are randomized each time. It takes place in a magical forest on the edge of a village. Said forest is cursed and everybody knows it. It always snows, and those affected by the curse in it can never leave. On a full moon night, cursed people lose their minds, apparently, and attack you even if they might not usually. The more times you play through, the more about the story is revealed.

You play as Little Red Riding Hood, an orphan(???) raised by her grandmother. When your grandmother disappears, it’s your job to march into this forest on a full moon night to find her.

There are currently six classes to choose for your little cloaked heroine: Lady Knight, Ranger, Nun, Little Witch, Magician and Apothecary.

“Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother relied on each other for a living, and was often bullied by boys. As a result, she did not have many happy memories of her childhood. However, she had to learn to use her brain and her fists to survive.”

Spoilers, but the knight class is the only one you can play for free. Yeah, sorry, this game has some DLC so, your mileage may vary. The knight class is fun to play, though. It involves using your weapons and armor and combining your armor with cards that hit for a lot of damage. You may feel a little annoyed when the witch pharmacist keeps offering you useless mana potions, though.

I just don’t really have much to say on the story of this timeline itself. I do like the idea of a person learning self defense specifically bc of bullies, but something about this wording bums me out. Her being defined as being a victim is kind of a downer.

Knight Red does not(afaik, feel free to correct me) have any class-specific interactions with any of the enemies. Yeah- some of these classes will get an extra choice when they defeat a certain enemy, if their dialog is triggered. It’s by chance, though.

And yeah. Most of the art depicts Red with anime white hair. I like to imagine the art of her on the cards is her as a little kid and then she dyed her hair as a teen.

🛡️🛡️ Two shields. Serves it’s purpose but kind of the most bare. Considered this is the only non-dlc class, that seems a little lame. Why not just make Knight, Ranger and Witch free and make the others dlc?

“Little Red Riding Hood has long been the only girl who dared to go into the forest with hunters. Over time, she became more agile and earned more gold from her prey. Perhaps one day she will achieve her dream of building her grandmother a house, no longer cold and hungry.”

Now this appeals to me a bit more. And- don’t worry. It’s clearly in the intro that her and Grandma have a place to live- but it’s probably a shitty apartment with a shitty landlord or something.

But this is a Red who has more agency. She’s defined by her hobbies instead of how other people treat her. Not that her life is any piece of cake. I do like that mention about trying to make money, bc this is one of the classes where you can attain the ‘steal’ card, where can get a little extra money when you fight people.

Ranger Red gets a class-specific interaction with the a hunter who has a particularly harsh backstory. I’ll get to him tomorrow. I like to imagine this guy took Red under his wing a lot when she was younger, too.

The ranger class involves a lot of chain reactions, finagling things so your turn is longer and then potentially hitting for a lot at the end if made your turn long enough. It’s in my top three favorites.

🏹🏹🏹 Three bow and arrows. Some cool characterization and legit a fun class to play.

“The king Little Red Riding Hood does not like to use violence to solve problems. “Injuries of the body are far easier to treat than those of the heart and spirit.” This is Little Red Riding Hood’s motto. Perhaps this is the reason why she is more understanding than others.”

Nun Red was initially interesting to me because...well, spoilers, but it doesn’t take many playthroughs to realize that the people involved with the church are kind of like the biggest bad. There are other big bads, but they’re kind of the shittiest people? And a person kind of has to be involved with a church to be a nun.

But that might not be the case. She really kind of plays more like a cleric. Her moved involve healing herself and praying. Her special interaction is also not with a member of the church but rather somebody who may be described as a pagan. Also, your Grandmother fucking hates the church, so I really doubt she’d let her grandmother become an actual nun. Nah, ‘Nun’ Red seems to represent an old faith that the villains have been trying to eradicate.

That being said, despite avoiding violence, I don’t have a lot to go on with this Red’s personality. Ok so, she’s really nice? I assume she’s poor like all the other Reds, but doesn’t seem to care about that. Like the Knight, she just kind of comes off as too passive.

Gameplay wise, she’s my least favorite. A healer makes sense if other people are in your party who can hit, but Red is alone. It’s very difficult to get her to wield damage and fights go on for a long time. It’s just, boring and frustrating. For that reason, I’ve giving her just 🙏🏻 one set of pray hands. Petty, I know, but that’s how I play.

“Even though the study of black magic is strictly prohibited in town, Little Red Riding Hood’s curiosity cannot be suppressed. What’s more surprising is that the witch has great patience in her guidance of the girl.”

Oh, yes, here we go! Probably the most interesting Red story wise. Spoilers again, but remembers those multiple Big Bads I mentioned? Well the Witch is one of the biggest of the bads...that is, unless you think that Pharmacy Witch and Apple Witch are different people. Then who knows which one in her tutor. My headcanon is that they’re the same person using a shapeshifting, so...

But yeah, to have a character who was trained by one of the main villains then go back and take on the evil in the forest makes for a pretty fun story. Yes, yes, it’s every video game twist, but give me this. Also this Red is driven, not by her shitty living situation, but simply by curiosity. She thinks magic is weird and cool and wants to know everything about it, and she’ll break the town laws and go into the woods to just to learn. That’s pretty neat!

This description, along with some facts about said Witch also lead to some pretty important headcanons about the ur-story but...I’m going to wait to talk about those when I talk about the Apple Witch.

Witch Red is kind of just, a wizard. You can be an elemental generalist, or you can focus one of the three elements, or you can stock up your mana up just to hammer people with it later. The difficulty is often picking a strategy early enough and finding the cards you need to make it work. The class specific encounter is with a mage who has a similar deck so- it fits.

She gets 🔥🔥🔥🔥 four fireballs. Great for story and headcanons, but her class isn’t one of my favorites to play. As I said: petty.

“As a descendant of the Hope family, Little Red Riding Hood discovered a strange bond between her body and cards when she was very young. She sought to cover up this supernatural phenomenon and magic became her best excuse.”

There is a lot of unpack here.

“A descendant of the Hope family” is another thing I’ll talk about when we get to the Witch. This class is...kind of meta? I had assumed up until seeing that that everyone wasn’t really carrying around physical cards but rather they represented attacks. What does it mean if Magician Red has power over cards themselves? Does she warp reality to mess with people’s attacks? Spoilers but no, unless you have a card that wipes out mana/attack pts.

Also, it’s wild to me that Red was born with this super power, but it was soooo scary that she told everyone that it was magic. Yanno, the thing that’s been established as illegal. What exactly is it that Red is capable of doing, and why is it so frightening? The description doesn’t reveal much.

You can either use a lot of traps with her or you can bank mana to make combos with your poker dart card. Both are pretty fun. Her special encounter is with a robotic stage magician who is actually pretty awesome. Also he probably didn’t train her, because he’s kind of new to the area.

She gets 🃏🃏🃏 three playing cards. Fun class to play, and he beginnings of an interesting character, but too confusing for me to latch onto.

“Little Red Riding Hood has been filled with curiosity for the natural world ever since childhood, and enjoys performing strange experiments. To care for her aging Grandma, she secretly learned how to concoct cheap potions from the crazy apothecary.”

Personality wise, Apothecary Red seems to have a lot in common with Witch Red, with the natural curiosity. The nature of the ‘strange experiments’ is a little dubious, though. Are you talking ‘let’s see what happens when I mix these two chemicals’ or ‘let’s see what happens to this frog if i stick it in a blender’ strange? Apothecary Red may or may not be some kind of sadist.

The fact that she willingly hangs out with the other Apothecary does not help her case in that respect. Dude is kind of a jerk but more on that later. Worth noting, though, is that she only works for the guy for money, but does her ‘strange experiments’ on her own time. She seems to be self taught and feels like she’s lowering herself working for this guy.

Her playstyle supports the notion of this Red being a jerk. You can set people on fire and they’ll burn for a little while, or you can slowly drain their life force, or you can blow up your own stuff in their face, causing damage. It’s...actually really fun! Especially you have the right weapons to set up chain reactions.

The apothecary is who you have a special interaction with, and even then she seems to be unimpressed by him.

Anyhoo, I’m go ahead and give this girl 💥💥💥💥💥 five explosions. She’s definitely a sadistic heroine, but that’s what makes her fun!

WEREWOLF RED WEREWOLF RED WEREWOLF RED???

So, this is the teaser image for the ‘coming soon’ class. I’m hoping it’s indicative of what’s to come and not just a generic plate. It looks like a girl with an axe with a werewolf growing out of her back which...is actually a concept that’s already canon, so yeah. Anyhoo I am so pumped about this. You interact with so many monsters in the story, it’s about time you get to be one.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺 five potential werewolves!

Ok, so there you go. This post is going to be a little different as we’re talking about one character in different timelines and also we didn’t touch on voice acting. Hopefully that gives you an idea of the game without skipping ahead too much. Next we’ll talk about some of the people mentioned here, as well as a few others.

#mairzy posts #night of the full moon #notfm #character reviews #classes #lady knight #ranger #nun #little witch #magician #apothecary

3 notes · View notes

captainkirkk · 7 years

Note

for the prompts, could you do something with Adam and ronan from the raven cycle and one of them having a nightmare please? bc let's be real, both of their lives have left them with some solid nightmare material and I live for hurt/comfort haha (also if you don't wanna write this that's totally cool!! I just love your writing sm that I had to send you a prompt when I saw you opened them)

Thanks, anon! This is set during the Raven King, when (spoilers) Cabeswater was growing more corrupted, and Ronan and Adam’s feelings were an open secret between them. Warnings for: mentions of blood and gore, instances of child abuse and discussions of past child abuse, and brief anxiety.

Read on AO3

–

Adam and Ronan have been circling each other for months; it makes sense that they’d be drawn into each other’s dreams, too. Their dreams merge abruptly like two cars colliding head on, like two jars of paint spilt out on the ground, colours bleeding into each other.

Adam is at Aglionby, sequestered away in the ancient, overbearing library. It’s cramped in a way it isn’t in real life. All the air has been replaced by books, and dread fills Adam’s lungs. The ticking clock is unnaturally loud. The homework stacked by Adam’s elbow wobbles threateningly. Its height defies gravity.

The bookcases grow larger and larger the longer he sits there, the aisles shrinking. The library shudders. Black vines creep into his vision. Adam curls around his essay, the paper rough like tree bark beneath his pen. His ribcage is two sizes too small, and his eyes ache with how exhausted he is, and dark roots shift beneath the library carpet, shackling themselves around Adam’s legs—

The library doors burst open. Ronan stands in the doorway dressed in full armour. It clanks as he raises a hand at the writhing branches, and declares, voice echoing off the endless aisles of books, “Fuck off!”

The plants shift guiltily. Adam kicks the vines making a grab for his feet beneath the table. They skitter away before returning like probing fingers around his bony ankles.

“Fuck off!” Adam echoes. Ronan picks up a book and throws it at a bramble growing around the legs of Adam’s chair. “Ronan, sword.”

Ronan unsheathes a sword from his belt. He examines its shining length for a moment. “Alright then,” he decides, before diving into the sea of vines and hacking, wielding the sword like a machete.

The vines lay in pieces around them. Ronan breathes heavily. Adam palms one hand over his stumbling heart, the other brushing leaves off his sprawled homework. During the invasion, his workload has doubled in size.

“Parrish,” Ronan says.

Adam picks up his pen. His trembling hand can’t form sentences. He doesn’t have the words, doesn’t know what the essay is about, his soupy brain filled with nothing but fear.

“It’s done,” Ronan says. “You finished it.”

Adam puts the pen down. When he examines his work, he finds his cramped cursive where, seconds ago, there had been blank space.

Adam exhales roughly. “Work.”

“You don’t have a shift today,” Ronan says, and Adam believes him; Ronan knows when Adam’s on roster.

“Class.”

“Finished for the day.”

“Gansey.”

“Safe. He doesn’t need us right now.”

Adam gets up. Their surroundings are more forest than library, now. The black vines are gone, replaced by soft earth and tawny leaves. Orange light folds through the treetops. Odd bookcases are built into tree trunks, books carpeting the forest floor in place of moss.

“Good?” Ronan asks, and Adam nods, yes. Ronan sheathes the sword, and runs a hand over his shimmering breastplate. “Gansey talks about medieval shit too much. It’s infected me.”

“Nice sword.”

“Keep it in your pants, Parrish.”

“Was Gansey dressed as a king?” Ronan grimaces, and Adam grins. “So predictable, Lynch.”

“He was wearing tights and a cloak and everything, but instead of boots, he was wearing his damn boat shoes.”

Adam looks down at himself. His Aglionby uniform is a perfect duplicate, complete with the stray loop of thread on his shoulder that drives him crazy. “What about me?”

“I was about to make you the court jester, but then black tree vines started melting out of the walls.” Ronan sweeps a hand over his knight regalia. “I guess this is a metaphor. You’re welcome.”

It’s peaceful in this soft-coloured place. Adam is warm all over, like he’s standing beneath his spluttering shower head and soaking in hot water after a long day.

But, like the faulty water system at St Agnes, the warmth peters out eventually, turns to ice against Adam’s skin. The pink sky dissolves into a starless wash of black. Insects crawl out of the trees, out of the dirt, out of the spaces between their feet, a many-legged hive brain that writhes around them.

A wasp lands on Adam’s sweater. Immediately, he looks around for Gansey, and meets Ronan’s eyes. He nods. They were both thinking the same thing.

Nightmare things replace the books and golden swathes of leaves. They dive for Ronan, and he bats at them with his sword. Their claws and beaks bang nosily against his armour.

Adam grabs Ronan by the arm and pulls them through the thick brambles, thorns tearing at his uniform. Ronan cuts down any nightmares things that come at them from behind, while Adam directs them deeper and deeper into the forest.

Ronan shouts and collapses. Adam catches him, and folds beneath his weight. He sinks to his knees, and pulls Ronan into his arms. His head lolls in the crook of Adam’s neck, all soft skin and warm blood seeping out against Adam’s long fingers; he’s bleeding heavily from his shoulder, and small cuts litter his torso. His armour vanished in the quick sprint through the thorny forest, replaced by black pyjama pants, Ronan’s usual sleeping attire. His tattoo and the pale expanse of his chest are on display.

“So much for a knight,” Ronan says against Adam’s throat. Adam shudders.

“I don’t want a knight.”

Ronan grins, a mean, sharp-toothed thing. Blood drips down his chest. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never needed saving.”

“I’m my own knight in shining armour,” Adam says, and then grimaces at how that sounds out loud. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Ronan barks a laugh. “You been watching teen dramas again, Parrish?”

“I’m not Noah.”

“Unfortunately.” Ronan shifts in Adam’s arms. Wet dirt soaks through Adam’s pants; if the briny muck of this corrupted Cabeswater isn’t enough to ruin his uniform, then Ronan’s blood dripping between them is. “Noah’s much better company.”

“Don’t make me leave you here, Lynch.”

“I don’t see a glowing exit sign anywhere.”

A gurgle and a thump echo through the forest. Ronan tenses against him.

“Adam?!”

Ronan curls like a snake ready to pounce. They both recognise that voice.

“We’re dreaming,” Adam says.

“Help me up. We shouldn’t be laying down for whatever’s going to happen next.”

With Adam’s assistance, Ronan climbs to his feet. He wobbles a little, but seems have regained his energy. He looks around the dimly lit clearing. “Cabeswater, I need something…”

A sword juts out of the dirt. Rubies glint in the faint rays of sun cast through the black treetops. Ronan unsheathes it, and sticks it into the air.

“It took my armour, but it can’t take my weapon.”

“Another metaphor?” Adam asks.

“I’m going to fucking stab that demon,” Ronan says, gripping the sword with a dirty, clenched fist, “does that count as a metaphor?”

“Not really.”

They make their way through the forest again. Their bare feet step in something wet, and warm, and Ronan rears back as though struck.

Adam was never able to meet Niall Lynch face to face, but he’s seen the photos hanging at the Barns. This smear of a man—the pulpy brain matter, the limbs splayed out like a dropped doll, this mass of hair, blood, and bone ground into the mossy forest floor—doesn’t look like the smiling, dark haired father who had stood with an arm slung around a young Ronan’s shoulders. It barely looks human.

Ronan’s legs wobble beneath him. “Christ.”

Adam reaches out to steady him, but he’s knocked off his feet before he can make contact. He sprawls out on dirty leaves, cheeks and palms smudged with mud. Robert Parrish is a jolt of ice through Adam’s stomach.

Again, Ronan says, “Christ.”

Robert Parrish hefts the shotgun in his arms. The sight of it is near paralysing. It’s one of the few things Adam has ever found that renders everything, the entire world, an irrelevant blur. His entire world always narrows down to the blunt nozzle, the lazy fingers edging over the trigger, the downturned slant of his father’s mouth.

His father opens his mouth, and the shouts that pour out are also familiar. Adam pulls his gaze away, looks towards Ronan. The taller boy is ashen and bloody. The tight curl of his shoulders gives Adam the strength to lever himself onto his elbows, onto his hands and knees, and then to his feet.

He’s not letting anything keep him down anymore. Definitely not this man.

“Ronan,” Adam says, “it’s alright, I’m here. We both need to wake up.”

“Right.” Ronan breaths in shakily. “Switch?”

Adam glances from Robert Parrish to what’s left of Niall Lynch. There’s nothing there for him to fight. The real struggle is taking place in Ronan’s chest.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Adam says.

“I’m the one with the sword.”

Ronan edges around the muck. His feet stick in the puddled blood, and Adam wants to reach across the space between them and lift Ronan up, carry him over the mess of his father’s dead body, stop him from having to go through this again.

Before Ronan and Adam can get to each other, Robert Parrish steps between them, lifts the shotgun, and hits Adam across the temple. His vision blurs out. Ronan’s shout is cut off. He barely feels the damp forest floor, and then—

Adam wakes tangled in cotton sheets and gasping. There are no dead leaves slicked with blood beneath him; no long fingered trees hanging over him; no gore splattered Niall Lynch, no red faced Robert Parrish; no pale Ronan clutching a ruby encrusted sword and trying to hold himself together. Adam can’t unearth things from his dreams. His nightmares stay buried behind his eyes.

Ronan’s don’t.

Adam wrestles out of bed and shoves his feet into sneakers, his arms into a jacket, and snatches up his car keys.

If Adam can’t carry Ronan to safety in the dreamscape, then he’ll do it in the waking world.

Gansey opens the door to Adam’s loud knocking. He’s in khakis, glasses perched on his nose, phone in hand. He looks partially dazed, as though stuck in some kind of fever state, his cheeks flushed. Adam would be concerned, but he’s busy. He shoves past Gansey none too gently.

Behind him, Gansey says into the phone, “Blue, I’m sorry to cut our time short, but I have to go. Adam’s here. He looks panicked. I’ll call you back.”

Gansey pulls the phone away from his ear. Blue’s voice, crackling and muffled through the line, calls out: “Adam! Be safe, you prick!”

Adam ignores her, and barges into Ronan’s room. On the bed, Ronan pants open-mouthed, his eyebrows furrowed as though in pain, and fists the sheets with both hands. He’s not struggling, but he’s fighting to hold on.

Gansey hovers in the doorway. “Is he okay?”

“We’ll see.” Adam shakes Ronan roughly. “Ronan. Ronan!”

Ronan jerks violently beneath Adam’s hand, and wakes with a bitten off shout. At the same time that his eyes fly open, blood smears across his chest, and wet leaves and forest dirt scatters across the bedsheets. Ronan’s feet are soaked with blood. A shotgun juts out beneath the bed.

Gansey hurries to Adam’s side, hands flapping over their gasping friend. “That’s a lot of blood. Does he need to go to the hospital? Are those fingerprints? Is that a gun?!”

“I’m fucking fine,” Ronan spits, shoving Gansey away. The shorter boy retreats to the doorway, only because Ronan is only this brisk and aggressive when he’s worked up, when he’s disorientated and pushed to his limits and needs space. Because Gansey trusts Adam to haul Ronan out of the bed and into the car if he really did need medical treatment. Because Gansey knows Adam can handle this.

Adam files that away to think over another time. He doesn’t need Gansey’s approval, but it’s a gratifying thing to have.

Ronan grasps at Adam’s shirt like he had in that rotted forest. Adam holds his wrist, and lets him hang on, lets Ronan slowly pull himself back together.

“You don’t live here,” Ronan says finally.

“You fought an overgrown library for me in full armour. I thought I should come and repay the favour.”

Ronan sifts through his bedspread with one hand—the other almost pulling Adam down with the strength of its grip—and tugs. From the rumpled comforter, a long, glinting sword emerges. The handle is embedded with rubies and latin engravings. Gansey comes forward again, but doesn’t take the sword until Ronan nods. He ducks out to examine the sword somewhere better lit than Ronan’s bedroom.

“Is that it? I was hoping for at least a breastplate.” Adam sighs. “At least Gansey is happy.”

“He’s going to be disappointed when he realises it has nothing to do with Welish kings.”

“What does the latin say?”

Ronan collapses back onto his dirty sheets. He looks exhausted for someone who has spent the night dreaming. Adam can relate.

“Probably something very rude, or very gay.” Ronan considers this. “Probably both, knowing me.”

Adam inches a little closer to Ronan. He doesn’t wipe the blood off of Ronan or pick at the mossy, blood slick leaves strewn across his bed, but he does press the hand Ronan has wrapped around his shirt closer to his skin, makes his inhales and exhales deeper, more exaggerated, so Ronan can match his breathing with Adam’s.

“The gun,” Adam says, because his eyes keep gravitated towards where it sits, poking out from beneath the bed. It had thrown him in the forest. He remembers the feel of it in his small hands when shooting cans under watchful supervision, knows the metallic smell to it and the weight against his ribs, against his chin.

“What if I pulled that fucker out of my dream, and you were here?” Ronan asks. It’s not a nice tone, but this isn’t a nice subject, and they are not always nice boys. “Then what would you have done, Adam?”

Adam matches Ronan’s words with something more clipped, less acidic. “You would’ve finally gotten the chance to run him through with that sword. Just like you’ve always wanted.”

“Fists,” Ronan corrects. “I wanted to use my fists until he was a piece of shredded meat, not use a pretty sword.”

Ronan lets his hand drop, as though sensing Adam’s sudden need for space. Adam stands and pulls the gun out. He points the nozzle at the ground and checks that its empty of bullets.

“Niall?” he asks, not looking at Ronan.

Ronan throws his legs over the side of the bed. He takes back the dreamed gun, and stashes it in the closest where Adam doesn’t have to look at it, and Gansey won’t have another heart-attack over it. Adam knows Ronan will bury it, or maybe burn it; he’ll do something with it that’ll make sure Adam never has to look at something so obviously his father’s again. Adam doesn’t need that kind of protection, but, like Gansey’s trust, like Blue’s muffled call to stay safe, Adam acknowledges it and quietly lets himself enjoy it.

“It wasn’t real,” Ronan says.

“I’m working through it,” Adam confesses. “The fear. I’m not the same person he ruined. I’m something more, now.” He picks a long leaf from Ronan’s pillow. The room smells of damp earth, blood, the stink of fear sweat, and ozone. All familiar things to them both. “I’m trying not to be afraid of him in real life, why should I be afraid of a dream version of him?”

Ronan stands a little taller at Adam’s words, like Adam’s words have righted something inside him. “I’m not that kid that found his dad cracked open. I’m not.” Ronan tugs at his leather bands, and sucks in a deep breath. “I’m not some weepy lost lamb Gansey had to scrape off a sidewalk.”

It’s the nighttime darkness and the fading adrenaline that pulls these words from their mouths. They’d never be this frank in the daylight. Ronan steps a little closer, and Adam puts his hand on the place where Ronan’s shoulder meets his neck, over the dark hooks tattooed on his skin. Ronan’s pulse thunders beneath Adam’s palm.

Adam meets Ronan’s gaze. They’re so close, Ronan’s bare, bloody feet almost touching Adam’s scuffed sneakers, their breaths mingled.

Out in the hallway, Gansey shouts, dad voice in full effect, “Ronan, is this the latin word for penis?”

They shuffle apart. They don’t jerk apart guiltily, but slowly move away, an understanding: now is not the right time.

“Busted,” Adam whispers.

“Told you it was both rude and gay,” Ronan whispers back.

Ronan leads the way out of the bedroom, Adam on his heels. Gansey is in the living room, sword held beneath a lamp as he examines it. His glasses slip down his nose. He peers over them at Ronan, thoroughly disapproving. “Ronan. Are you going to pretend not to be hurt again?”

Ronan runs a hand over his chest, and Adam swallows at the bare skin. Ronan brushes over visible claw marks and cuts put there by thorns and sharp branches. Niall Lynch’s blood has dried. The marks have coagulated. “Just scrapes,” Ronan says with a shrug, and then to Adam: “The worse injuries didn’t transfer through. I, um. I was focussing on not bringing anything back with me.”

“Hm,” Gansey says, and gets up to find their first aid kit.

Ronan catches Adam’s eye once again, and shakes his head. Gansey’s paternal instincts are legendary and inescapable. Adam bites down a laugh and abandons him to duck into the bathroom and check the forsaken mini fridge.

Adam gets onto his knees to peer at the contents. In the fridge’s dim glow, Noah’s eyes are a hazy blue. He always looks washed, especially these days, but right now, Noah is a wisp of fog stubbornly set into human shape, holding on tightly to his coherency. He looks exhausted with the effort.

“That must’ve been frightening, huh?” Noah says. He smiles weakly. “But Ronan looked good in armour.”

Adam doesn’t ask how Noah knows that. He grabs a couple of iced coffees from the fridge. No one in this apartment will be sleeping again tonight; they’ll need the caffeine.

“He looked ridiculous.”

“You thought he looked handddsomee,” Noah sing-songs. Adam nudges Noah with his foot. Noah is solid enough to rock at the force, and giggles into his hands. “You even liked the sword, too.”

“Rise above your status as an Aglionby boy,” Adam says, “and resist the urge to make to make a dick joke. Please.”

“You sound like Blue.”

“A compliment?”

“Of course.” Noah rests his chin on his knees. If he were human, Adam would say he looked halfway asleep, liable to doze off in the middle of this wasteland of a bathroom. “You guys are okay?

“We’re okay,” Adam agrees. He rises to his feet, knees cracking. “How are you, Noah?”

Noah smiles again. Adam hasn’t been keeping track of Noah the way he should, these days. He’s so busy, always has been busy, and Ronan and Gansey and Blue always seem to know something is wrong with Noah before Adam does.

“You should go check on Ronan,” Noah says instead of answering.

“Ronan is fine. Gansey’s with him.”

“Yeah, but I bet he misses you.” Noah tries to wink. It’s a disconcerting sight on a smudged out face.

“Alright,” Adam says, and nudges Noah again with his sneaker, a lingering gesture that Noah sighs beneath, curling up tighter around his knees. “Goodnight, Noah.”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

Out in the main area, Gansey is sitting cross-legged on the floor, his journal and a spare notebook open in front of him. The dream sword and his phone are propped by his socked feet. Ronan reclines on Gansey’s unmade bed. He’s been cleaned up by Gansey washed off the blood, and dressed in clean jeans and a muscle tee.

Adam hands an iced coffee to each of them, and unscrews the lid of his own. Gansey waves a distracted hand at him. He seems oblivious to the coffee he drips on the pad of notes, too busy scribbling something down.

“What does Maura or Calla say?” Gansey asks.

“It’s almost 1am,” Blue says. He voice is even more crackly on speaker phone. “I’m not waking everyone up for anything short of an emergency.”

“Hey, Blue,” Adam says.

“Hey, Adam,” Blue says. “Are you alright? Gansey told me what happened.”

“I’m fine.”

Gansey shoves his glasses back up his nose with coffee wet fingers. “You’re sure this has never happened before?”

“Pretty sure. I think I would’ve known if Ronan was actually in my dreams before now, instead of just a dream version of him. I knew tonight. He showed up, and I just knew it was actually him, dreaming with me.”

“Aw, you’ve dreamt about me before, Parrish?” Ronan says, fake sweet.

“I dream about all of you,” Adam says, because it’s true.

Gansey peeks up at them. His smile is shy, a little loving. “I dream about you all as well.”

“Me, too,” Blue says.

Ronan sighs, but nods his head, an agreement that he, too, dreams about them. They’re too tightly bound to each other, their lives entangled even when asleep.

“Do you think it was Cabeswater that brought your dreams together?” Gansey asks. “Why would it do that?”

“Power in numbers?” Blue wonders.

They devolve into speculation. Gansey furiously takes notes from the floor, bent over his notes, glasses slipping back down his nose. Adam takes a seat on Gansey’s bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, and he ends up against Ronan, feet to thigh to shoulder. Ronan looks at him, and Adam nods, and Ronan puts a hand on Adam’s knee. It’s not the worst way to spend the night. Adam thinks, for all the hours of sleep he’s missing, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

#trc #the raven cycle #my posts #my writing #sorry this took a little bit i was finishing TRC #and writing in general takes me a while #Anonymous

19 notes · View notes