#give us his fucking perspective!!!! *show us* who he is
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my stand in episode 1 thoughts, feelings, etc.
OHOHOOO FINALLY. FINALLY I FEEL INSANE ABOUT A SHOW AGAIN. poom phuripan my absolute beloved, i've missed you so fucking much.
the show really eases you into everything and so far i don't mind the back and forth, i think it's interesting to see the direct consequences and THEN the story of how we got here. i don't know if my opinion on that will change later but for right now it's really pleasing me. i also really like this gradual introduction we're getting into everything and the sort of thriller/mystery vibe to it all. it's giving me some very loose/vague manner of death vibes.
i immediately don't like the vibes of tong or wut but i'm reserving any real accusations until later, but i'm def side eyeing them. i've got my eye on you two.
it really took my brain some getting used to to understanding the joe we're seeing is joe's consciousness and everyone else is seeing the joe that was shown in his reflection in the hospital (i've never seen vice versa or many other shows that do this, forgive me) but once i wrapped my head around it i actually quite like it. mostly bc it means i still get to see a lot of poom.
anyway - thus far this has one of my favorite romance tropes; guy who is used to being treated badly/ignored and man who has too much love to give (to someone who may or may not deserve it, judgement withstanding on that rn.) joe is just such a heart eyed fool and i'm so glad to see poom in another role of lovesick, unfairly attractive, dork. it's a role he plays so well and he immediately endears you to joe so fucking much.
throughout most of the episode i was like ooh this is a bummer but the angst isn't too bad. and then. AND THEN.
ming coming over to joe's house and making a move on him, again, from the perspective of behind joe - where he looks so much like tong. the lamenting about him being a virgin and joe offering himself up to him. and then ming turning him back around to face the mirror. this way he looks so much like tong, he can pretend it's tong, and yet at the same time joe's face is right there, reflected back in the mirror, inescapable. i'm fucking eating this up, finally some good fucking food.
idk i'm probably not touching on everything i want to, it's been a long ass time since i've done one of these, but this is just what immediately comes to mind. now time to go make a gifset lmao.
(if you give me novel spoilers i WILL hunt you for sport)
#bunn meta#my stand in the series#my stand in#my stand-in#my stand-in the series#poom phuripan#up poompat#usersasa#clairedaring#<- lmk if you want to be added to tags or removed for future eps!!
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listen, i'll say it
if S3 doesn't give us significantly more Colin scenes, it'll be a failure
Colin is completely underdeveloped as a character. He has gotten just about 0 POV. All we know about him is either filtered through Penelope or in an ensemble scene with everyone else. And at this point, even if S3 is half and half, it still won't be fair. To balance out the discrepency, it should at *least* be 75% Colin and maaaaaaaaybe 25% Pen because we've gotten nothing for him
I ship Polin, I like Pen, but I'm over getting Pen's POV all the time. We've had enough of it. We've certainly had an unfair amount of it in comparison to his. I'm sick of seeing all the Whistledown behind the scenes and all her quiet contemplative moments when Colin doesn't so much as get 5 minutes focused on him being on the boat, or on his travels, writing his letters or talking through a problem to himself.
I love Colin. He's my absolute favorite character. And it sucks to have a favorite character who is *supposed* to be a lead but has had a grand total of nothing. Bton stripped him of character qualities and threw them onto Benedict, gave Colin like 5 lines, and filtered near all his 'development' through Penelope. Aside from his 'everyone says that [I'm Daphne's favorite]', our literal second scene of Colin is through Penelope's eyes. Everything he says, everything he does: it's always through Penelope's eyes. And I'm over it. I wanna see the world through *Colin's* eyes. And it would only deepen the narrative if we do.
Listen, the directors and showrunners have called Colin 'stupid' or 'dim' or 'not smart enough for Penelope'. The fandom has been rather blatant with their disregard of him, calling him boring, that he's not leading man material, writing him as a cardboard cutout in fics, assuming he's an empty charmer (hmmmm, just like what he's upset about in the books), and it's all because he's been denied a narrative. Colin is a rich, nuanced character. He's funny, he's kind, he's compassionate, he rejects toxic masculinity, he's got imposter syndrome like nothing else, he has a very unique role in his family and experienced a very unique perspective after his father died, he has hobbies (writing, boxing, fencing, studying, traveling) and strong values. But we've barely gotten any of it. Sure, we're *told* some things about him, but we never *see* it.
So if S3 is going to be his time to shine, his season, his falling arse over elbow in love era, they *have* to give us his perspective, and I don't fucking want it all to be his perspective about Pen. I am *tired* of Colin as an extension of Penelope. Penelope has had so much room and time and care to be a character on her own. Colin has gotten nothing. And that kind of dynamic does not a good love story make. And if all that underdevelopment wasn't to pull an Uno Reverse on us and give us a season that focuses on him and builds him up, what was it even for?
S3 should be Colin's story
#polin#bridgerton#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#bridgerton season 3#yeah yeah penelope's a fan favorite#i wonder why#maybe it's because she has the lions share of scenes and development compared to literally every other character#and i get it: she's a main#but so is colin#why do constantly have to undermine him in order to prop her up?#did we *really* need all those 'pen writes LW' scenes when we haven't even seen Colin in Greece? or gotten him writing letters on the boat?#did we need all that unnecessary backstory when the only scene we got of him processing his broken engagement on his own was him in bed#for 30 seconds?#do we really need to center penelope's point of view for every single aspect of their relationship?#colin is supposed to be falling in love in season 3 too#give us his fucking perspective!!!! *show us* who he is#what he wants and values#AND we'll finally get Penelope from someone else's eyes. . .who ISN'T Penelope#how can you NOT want Colin pov???#the writing has failed him *and* us because we don't even fucking have POLIN right now#we have Penelope and a sexy lamp she throws her romantic feelings and frustrations and expectations onto#and before the 'bton is aimed at a specific audience' bit (namely women)#some of us wlw (who often find ourselves relating to the male love lead *because* we both love women) also deserve a slice of the story#it's not just you straight girls out here#and as a wlw? right now the fanon version of penelope is the kind of woman i'd run crying and screaming from
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Sakura gets a second point for being the first to complete the tree climbing at being better at chakra control, but at the same time it just feels like she was made good at it so no extra training segment time would have to be put into her getting good at it and it can be all about Sauce and Nart. Idk that feels too pessimistic but also could totally be true.
#she takes on a very 'obsever' role. like kashi is the teacher watching over them. but sock is the watching and commenting from the same#perspective of nart and sauce and also the viewer unlike kashi. cuz he provides a lot of exposition and whatnot in his inner monolgues#and its like. of course the girl is just the observer who watches alongside us as the two main boys grow and develop#AND I DONT WANNA FUCKIN BE PESSIMISTIC ABOUT THIS BUT GOD ITS IMPOSSIBLE!!!!#but her whole character so far is 'i hate the class clown. im book smart. i diet and im in love'#and the way i see it is. 12yo girl TRYING to fit into the femininity she sees in the world around her so she forces herself to be like this#but she has inner sock who speaks what she really feels showing that she puts on quite a front and isnt really much like that at all#and you expect her to grow into wanting her to truly define herself. and she does with getting stronger and training under tsunade and#learning medical ninjutsu so she really finds a spot for herself. she does!!! but then she KEEPS hanging onto the love nonsense#and admittedly there are moments that push a very obvious trope of thinking she likes sauce cuz hes cool but finding out that the real 'gem'#is nart so i definitely understand where n@rus@kus are coming from#but then she just STICKS with sauce until its the worst ship possible and its an utter mess of 'ill never give up on him'#EVEB DESPITE HIM TRYING TO KILL HER!!! THEN THAT FUCKING WORKS OUT!?!?!?#AND TOO THIS DAY SAUCE STILL NEVER COMES OFF LIKE HE ACTUALLY LOVES HER#IM SORRY BUT ITS TRUE. SARD WE ARE GETTING YOU BETTER PARENTS. ON GOD!!!!!#so she just hangs on to this one little thing that she SHOULD have gotten development for to move on from BUT IT NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS#so its like half her development never fucking happens and thats why it#s such a fuckinf mess!!!!!#i fucking hate this show. i need to go back to watching mike's dino game vod. what am i doing here?????#i did this to myself btw. i didnt need to start yelling about that but thats just how it is with nart#start thinking about something good and then it reminds you of something related thats bad and now its like. yeah this shit sucks#remember when kishi said he regretted not making hina the heroine???? we could have lived in a better timeline.#but if i say that i will get assassinated#anyway.#sock count#personal
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Seeing someone's awful, self-righteous, bad faith, rage bait take and realising that you already have them blocked for their other dogshit opinions 👌👌👌
#barbie Ken voice: SUBLIME.#You know when someone identifies themselves as a queer poc and like leverages it in a way that is so cognitively dissonant and embarrassing?#like bro you're giving us hot qpocs a bad name youre scaring the hoes 💀💀💀 stoppppp 💀💀💀#You can't leverage your status as a poc over another poc#especially when you are specifically talking about Thai culture and the person you're bitching about is literally half thai#especially when all perth said was I had friends that would watch every BL religiously and now there's so much coming out that they can't#so ''I think the BL industry is becoming oversaturated because the target audience can no longer physically keep up with the output''#is a perfectly reasonable thing to say???#especially as someone that is looking for roles in said industry? like they don't want to be in an unwatched unprofitable show?#he is a professional BL actor he has worked on two of the most profitable BL's that have come out of Thailand in the last like 2 years#being like ''his professional opinion doesn't matter because he's straight''#and ''I clearly have more experience with the BL industry because I consume the finished product'' is. ??? questionable???? at best???#speaking as a queer person of colour who has 2 years experience in the TV industry: oversaturation is a word that is really commonly used#it is a real worry for people that are working in a genre and it's a way to say like what is going to be innovative and popular#and how can I get on that wagon#because it's a career you're not just looking at the output at the end (the show) you are looking at the entire process from start to finish#That's literally all Perth was doing???#sorry it upset your sensibilities as a BL consumer but he was talking from the perspective of a BL professional#anyway what the fuck ever lmao
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FATHER, CAN I DIE?
✶﹒ platonic yandere! manhwa fathers x suicidal/overworked daughter! reader.
tw : suicide attempt, neglect, blood, etc.
erno etam
erno is a psychopath, or atleast— that's how you see him. at first, this guy pay no attention to you at all. but he doesn't neglected you (or atleast that's what your maids were saying to make you feel better). he still gives you whatever you want and needed, give you clothings, house and foods. but affection? nah, there's no way he will love someone boring as you.
erno sees everyone as chess pieces, and yes, unfortunately you were also one of those chess pieces. yes, you were an important piece because of your abilities when it comes on magic and military tactics. but it doesn't changed the fact that he can dispose of you whenever he wanted.
and maybe because of his treatment to you and how everyone ridicule you because of erno's treatment. became the last straw to make you do that thing. and damn, the maid who saw your half dead body laying on your research lab and with your slashed throat— got traumatized. to the point that after she saw you like that and called the doctor and the other members of the etam family, she resigned and unfortunately a year after become crazy.
but it wasn't the same for erno. because the time that he saw that sight— he became interested. he remembered when he saw you for the first time as a baby. how you held his finger as if it was your own way to say that you wants to live.
when you woken up, you were disappointed to see the face of your younger siblings as well as your grandfather who scolded you to the point that your ears were about to burst. but what caught your attention was erno who started acting like a proper father for the first time. and seeing that glint on his eyes, the excitement that you felt for the first time started to disappear when you realized that— ah, damn. this is another game for erno's perspective.
nevertheless, you still gave him what he wanted. a perfect oldest daughter who will never disappoint him. you showed him a façade that he wanted. and with the months where he acted like a proper and perfect father who adores his daughter. you realized one thing and you couldn't help but to scoff as your hand traced the bandage around your neck. this guy, he finds you interesting for the first time— he finds the fact that his daughter almost killed herself, he finds the sight of his daughter half dead and bleeding— interesting.
it makes your stomach churn, it was disgusting— he is disgusting. you couldn't help but to wonder why in the are you so desperate to have his attention before? damn it.
but since this is what he wanted, you couldn't help but to think— why can't you give what he wanted? the sight of you dying and bleeding to death? and that's how your suicide attempts started. at first, it was simple such as poisoning yourself, drowning, etc. at first you used the methods where you were sure that it wouldn't hurt you that much.
and erno doesn't know why— he only spent few months acting like a proper father to you. but the sight of you unconscious in your bed was enough to make his hand shook. was it because of fear? why is he scared in the first place?
he spent a week trying to think about the reason. but then, while he was on the palace— he got a message from home saying that you jumped from the castle inside the etam estate. and now, he realized why the hell is he scared. hurrying to get back home, the only thing that erno has inside his mind was his daughter.
those times you tried to impress him, those times that you tried to get his attention, those times that you crave for his affection. and those times when he carried you as a newborn for the first time. erno realized that he fucked up— to the point that he couldn't do anything to change it anymore.
and after once he got home, he was welcomed by the sight of his daughter— sitting down on her bed with bandage around your head and those lifeless eyes of yours. erno felt as if he wanted to cry. and by the time he heard that you got amnesia because of what happened. erno was delighted— delighted by the fact that he was given another chance to fix your relationship. a chance to redeem his self.
but maybe, because of what he did before— no matter what he do. you became obsessed on dying. and your how do we quote it? "turning in new leaf" father got scared that you might succeed in doing that.
and that was the time he resorted onto something that he knew will affect your life, but he doesn't care. you have him, he will take care of you— you don't have to worry. your father got your back.
the only thing that you remembered before erno broke your legs and arms was the series of apologies that he whispered on your ear. and now, you become dependent to him just like what he wanted. don't worry, your father won't disappoint you this time.
“ i know it hurts, little cupcake. but this is what happens when you don't listen to father's requests!"
#manhwa x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere headcanons#yandere manhwa#yandere manhwa x reader#platonic yandere#platonic yandere x reader#erno etam#I'm being raised by villains#imagines#headcannons#platonic yandere headcannons#tw.suicide#tw.yandere
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?”
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure.
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily.
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him.
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes?
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be.
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now.
“Joel?”
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore.
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it.
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right.
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes.
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes.
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year.
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself.
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you.
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.”
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you?
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts.
“You feel so good,” you whine.
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure.
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him.
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—”
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—”
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face.
You love him. You said it. And he believes you.
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters.
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin.
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him.
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back.
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back.
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm.
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time.
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now.
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat.
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained.
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria.
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts.
*****
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#pedro pascal#fan fiction#ao3#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#fluff#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fan fiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal character fanfic#joel miller smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel miller x reader#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#first time#happy ending#love confessions#fic request#requested fic#request#send requests
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Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley
or
The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping
EDIT:
Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:
Anyways, without further adieu...
I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.
But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.
The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'
That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.
This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.
There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.
Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-
-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.
(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)
It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.
Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?
Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.
EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!
…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.
Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.
It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?
Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:
(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)
Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger.
And he was.
(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)
In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole.
In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:
And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.
Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.
But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.
And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.
By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.
So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?
(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.
However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)
EDIT OVER
It shows me that their relationship is all about control.
Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.
Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.
He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-
(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)
-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).
SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?
No. I don't think so.
Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.
And that's the point, because so would she.
I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.
In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:
Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.
And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?
Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.
And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-
-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.
It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.
In life...
...or in death.
How romantic.
So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.
#gaming#the coffin of andy and leyley#gravecest#ashley graves#andrew graves#someone help me i can't stop thinking about this fucking game
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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2
Chapter 1
Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward.
TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)
Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance,
Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective
— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining.
Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression.
But something good did happen – you happen, of course.
He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago!
— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi.
— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses.
— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy.
— And she wasn’t?
König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you.
— No.
— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it.
— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay.
— We might as well rebel if they’d try to.
— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route.
— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games.
Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military.
The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this.
But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material.
You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people.
He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine.
But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model.
But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic.
It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous.
The problem is – he knows that he can have you.
Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after.
He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize.
You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.
You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is.
You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines.
You under…
— Can I…can I take your order, sir?
He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you.
He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money.
God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again.
God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.
— Sir, is everything okay?
He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger.
— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean.
He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much!
But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…
— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert?
This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control.
— No. Just coffee.
— Sugar?
He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure.
König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes.
— Ja. Thank you.
— Good choice, sir.
Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out.
But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half.
Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here.
You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him.
König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes.
— Here is your coffee. Anything else?
You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle.
He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country.
You still want to ruffle his hair.
He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his.
— Nein, thank you.
He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right?
Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died.
König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting.
You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just���sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament.
König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not.
He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days.
He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly.
He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you.
— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…
You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…
— It was a tip. Take it.
He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills.
He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too.
— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir.
— Don’t wander at night again.
He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts.
— I won’t. Promise.
He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…
— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that.
You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit.
König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go.
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#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x you#cod#konig mw2#konig x reader#reader insert#yandere#yandere konig#yandere x reader#yandere cod#fem reader
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ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool
Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever
Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.
Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!
(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)
To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:
Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience.
From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).
It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.
So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.
Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.
Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.
To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.
Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.
Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"
Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.
Siffrin's skills are all puns.
You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.
This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.
The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).
You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).
At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.
Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.
I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.
Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.
(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)
You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.
As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.
It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.
(Just attack.)
No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).
Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.
Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.
The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.
The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.
I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.
What do I even need to say, really.
Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.
By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.
These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.
But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?
Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!
I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.
Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.
Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)
At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.
Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.
As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."
The final boss just takes that one up a notch.
Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!
In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.
This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)
To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.
Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!
...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.
In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.
Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.
And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.
So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.
First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.
You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.
(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)
This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.
And, then, a void.
Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.
Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.
Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.
You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.
But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!
and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.
So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?
And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:
A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin
B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music
C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.
It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.
At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.
Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.
Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.
Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.
Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.
As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.
Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.
Siffrin is the final boss.
In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"
This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.
You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.
And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?
Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...
(Your friends don't know what to do.)
None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.
Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.
It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?
Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?
After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.
And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.
Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.
The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.
For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.
There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?
Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.
Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.
All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.
In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.
But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.
Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.
A circle within a circle indeed.
To summarize:
The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.
Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.
Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.
#feli speaks#in stars and time#isat#isat spoilers#lays down on floor. it's done. it's done#i actually narrowed down in scope to just focus on the combat by the way. and this is like. several thousand words
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At the end of Httyd 1, Toothless was inside the house and sitting there like he'd been there for quite a while and had gotten used to the place so chances are he never left Hiccup's side post the battle with Red Death for the time his best friend had been comatose. Also the fact that Stoick fully entrusted Toothless with Hiccup's safety and wellbeing that he would leave the house without worry.
Point in case, Toothless probably only left the house for brief moments and the villagers haven't seen him much (and they're too apprehensive to quell their curiosity because that's a freakin' Night Fury in there guarding their unconscious heir), ergo they haven't gotten used to him yet. Accepted the dragons sure but as the series told, not in an instant and not 100 percent. They trust the dragon in there but it's still something to wrap their heads around.
Now, a random Berkian's perspective to Hiccup and Toothless' friendship and dynamic post Httyd 1 would be gold.
The bewilderment at how those two seem to communicate like they've been together their whole lives, the mini heart attacks when Hiccup snarks at the dragon they grew up fearing and Toothless snarls or roars back with teeth out and... rolls his eyes?? Oh... they're just bickering, the boy isn't about to die, calm down. The fucking jumpscares when those two show up like they just materialized from the shadows WTF aaand it was just Hiccup hiding from the chief. The befuddlement watching the boy and his dragon having a debate over which notebook to buy because Hiccup wants the one with better paper quality but Toothless wants the other because apparently it smells nice.
The villagers gradually get used to Toothless and how he integrated so perfectly into Hiccup's life but while the fear and confusion is gone, the awe at how connected those two are, how they understand each other better than anyone can possibly hope, never goes away-
"Hey, no- Toothless, give me back my notebook! I still need to- Hey! GET BACK HERE!"
A black form rushes through the square and towards the Great Hall, being chased by his angry best friend who was refusing to get lunch because he wanted to sketch down an idea for some invention.
...............
(Don't tag as a ship)
#hiccup and toothless#the best buds my beloved#httyd#httyd hiccup#httyd toothless#hiccup haddock#berk#httyd 1#hiccup horrendous haddock iii#hiccup how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon#hiccup horrendous haddock lll#toothless#night fury
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Hiya! How are you doing? Hope you doing okay. Btw, if you have time, can I request TF141 with Fem! Reader who is emotionless. The men’s went to visit Y/n place for her birthday but they heard loud bark in her house. When Y/n open the door the men’s are pin down by a lot of puppies. They though she has scary dog only to meet cute puppies. Imagine when the men’s see Y/n cuddle/hanging out with her puppies and she her smile a bit during her birthday they be like ‘Dammit! So cute!’ And almost faint seeing the light above of her like an angel.
Thank you for being so patient anon, I'm trying to get these done, ahh!
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Ghost is pretty used to how you act on base, and while he doesn't exactly trust the whole emotionless thing (that's his thing, back off his permanent emo phase) he does give you space and respect you.
So much so when you invited him to come over after a long mission needing a break from life, he just decided to except. To hell with it, at least he knew you wouldn't bother him.
And plus, it was your birthday in a couple days so what was the real harm in saying no??
So he shows up with his bags a couple days later, not expecting anything special until he rang the doorbell.
Now.
Simon.
Loves.
Dogs.
There are few things he loves more in this world than tea, arson, and dogs. So when he hears a bunch of barking he rightfully assumes you have a dog, unless you just have that playing to scars people, which he wouldn't put it past you.
You come to the door, struggling to open it before he's bombarded at the glass screen, seeing a bunch of tiny puppies jumping and wagging their little tails in excitement to meet a new person.
And Simon nearly dies of how utterly fucking cute that is. You open the door and their jumping at his legs, yipping as he comes in and puts down his bag, on their little legs rushing to sniff the new item in the home.
"Sorry about them." You apologize.
Simon shrugs, melting. "That's alright."
The puppies are pretty adorable, one of them even wants to sleep on his bed with him. And Simon gets used to them, pulling them into his lap and stroking them, cradling them, occasionally following you when you take them for walks.
But when you're both sitting in the living room, Simon scrolling through his phone and you on the TV. He can't help looking over and seeing two of them curled up on your lap and passed out. The others all snuggled close as you barely cling on to the TV remote.
He stares, lip turning up slightly under his mask, seeing how cute the scene was. It was pretty damn adorable.
And he's going to miss those puppies when he goes home. But now he has a nes perspective on you as well. He knows you're gentle.
You pretend not to have emotions, and in your line of work he understood, but he saw the gentle side of you. The nurturer, even if it was too a bunch of cute puppies.
Also.
Let him see your puppies again.
Please.
He's begging you.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Now, Johnny probably would have declined your offer to stay at your house if he knew you had dogs. Johnny hates dogs, and is not afraid to kick one on the spot.
But you wanted to throw a party for your birthday and he couldn't just.. decline to go to your birthday. That was horrible, he was invited, he had to go!
He doesn't want to be cruel to dogs or go out of his way, but they scare him. And he doesn't like being near them.
He grabbed his bag and knocked on your door, immediately tensing when he heard the sound of yips coming toward the door.
Please don't let it be a big dog, please don't let it be a big dog.
You rushed to the door, struggling to open it and Johnny was suddenly swarmed by tiny puppers.
He tensed a little and you apologized, herding them back inside and letting Johnny in. Luckily they were distracted by the scent on his bag long enough he could make it to the living room.
"Sorry about that, should have told you."
"Oh ah, no no that's alright..."
He chuckles softly as the puppies get excited from the new guest, some scrambling to hop into his lap when he sits down and you have to gently remove them from him so he can get settled.
You smile softly as you pull them off and gently, lovingly scold them on crawling all over him. He can't help a little smile when you pick one up, drawing the rest to follow you to the couch.
You flop down, tossing Johnny the remote as the puppies crawl up to you, yipping and snuggling up.
Johnny puts on some YouTube video for experimental slow motion capture explosions for a bit.
Eventually looking over to see if you're even interested, only to see you passed out on the couch with the puppies all curled up.
He watched, smiling softly seeing you so relaxed. You were gentle and kind and now you were soft, all curled up like the world was calm. He grabbed the throw blanket and gently laid it over you, turning off the TV.
One of the pups squirmed out from under your arm, yipping as he moved to the stairs. Johnny shushed the pup softly so you could continue to sleep and he headed down to his room.
You were pretty cute like that, all curled up with a bunch of puppies.
Just... It might not be as cute when they get bigger.
But for now, absolutely adorable.
And now he thinks he might try to get you to open up a little more. Because clearly you aren't simply what you want to be seen as. And he wants to know you. That gentleness he saw that day with your puppies.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle doesn't feel any which way about either animal. He's slightly more of a cat person but would say he likes cats and dogs equally.
He didn't really have any particular thoughts about you either. You were on the team, you got the job done, and that was good. You were quiet, like Ghost, and that was something he could appreciate.
He might have declined the offer to stay over, but it was you'd birthday and you had offered. And what's a week in someone else's home he didn't have to worry about rent and resources? (Gaz math)
So he found himself at your doorstep with really not much idea of what to expect. He didn't think much of it when he rang the doorbell and heard a bunch of yips and little barks.
You must have dogs. Or puppies from the sounds of it.
And he was right, looking down as you opened the door, seeing puppies skittering around and wiggling excitedly. You opened the door, nodding to Kyle, who nodded back.
"Sorry about them, off." You commanded, helping Kyle to put his bag down on the kitchen chair. He watched the puppies dance around between and around his feet.
"That's a lot of puppies." He put his hands in his pockets.
"And I love them all." You smiled softly, cooing them over to the couch. Kyle watched all of them waddle over, yipping and scrambling to get up into the couch.
You curled up in a blanket with them all, one of them staying back to sniff Kyle's pantleg and nibble on it a little.
Kyle watched the little puppy, bending down to pick him up and felt his soft coat. He was very cute puppy, very light too.
"They are beautiful... What breed??" He looked up, noticing your eyes were closed. The light from your blinds casting on you in just a way he could tell it had been a long day.
He smiles softly, thinking how cute it was paired with your earlier words.
He attempted to put the one puppy down but it scrambled back, following him as he took your advice and also went to pass out for a nap.
Eventually waking up with that same pup curled up with him. He went upstairs to see you still sleeping, and he couldn't help thinking it cute s second time.
You were soft, gentle with the small animals. So comfortable with them. He couldn't stop s small smile. So this was the real y/n... He'd like to see more of you.
And he thinks your puppies are adorable.
John Price
Price is like Kyle in that he doesn't really prefer one species over the other, he vibes with both. Though he's leaning more dog person.
You on the other hand, your skill alone is what got you on the team. Price wishes you would be less 'emotionless' and try to open up even a smidge to the others. Even a little bit of teamwork can lead to a lot of success and smoothness.
But oh hell he picked you all...
That's what he couldn't help thinking as he drove down to your house for your birthday. It was mid leave and Price was headed over to celebrate the day with you and make sure you wouldn't be alone.
Showing up at your door, he didn't his little dad shoulder roll and knocked. When he got no response he rang the doorbell, immediately hearing loud barking and yipping.
His eyebrows raised slightly. He didn't take you for a dog person. Unless he's at the wrong house, in that case, fuck him.
But he's reassured it's you when you open the door, giving him a half a smile for effort. "Captain, sorry, I was trying to put them away."
Price chuckles when the small puppies jump up at his legs and run around him, smelling all the new smells on him.
"That's quite alright."
You open the door further and let him inside. Price steps in, the small puppies yipping and jumping. You try to gently scold them off but Price doesn't react, letting them do their thing.
"Sorry, I can make you tea, we can sit down??"
Price nodded. "That sounds lovely actually, thank you."
You nod, grabbing out two cups and getting the kettle ready.
You two pass time talking until you get to the couch, Price crossing a leg over, one of the pups hopping up into his lap, yipping at him and snuggling up to his stomach.
Price can't help chuckling again as you talk. The rest of the puppies curl up with you, you'd arms wrapping around them all, trying to squeeze your love gently into their tiny bodies.
The quietness somehow seeping in along the way until Price looks up from petting the small puppy to see you nodding off against the arm rest.
The sun through the window hits you nicely and Price sighs softly. Seeing how tired you looked, how gentle you were.
Price always knew it, he knew the soft soul under those faces. And now he saw it, seeing how utterly adorable you were curled up with your puppies.
He walks over, setting down the pup from his lap against you, having a feeling he'd feel better there.
He pulls the throw blanket over you, rubbing your arm gently. Guess he's making dinner to give back for making him tea.
He looked back into the living room, seeing you still passed out. Maybe, with some more work he can get you to open to him. He liked seeing you so cuddly up.
You were so gosh darn adorable, almost as adorable as the puppies themselves.
(sorry it's short, it's late and I wanted to at least get something out, blep.)
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#ghost x reader#captain john price#call of duty headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick headcanons#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish headcanons#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley headcanons#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#fluff#little blurbs because it's late 😔
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Something cool about Blue Eye Samurai is how sex is juxtaposed with the end-goals.
I really love how our three protagonists are all obsessed. And that obsession defines them, torments them, and are subsequently reborn through their obsessions.
Mizu, of course, is obsessed with the concept of revenge. It's not even about getting even or getting justice as some might use to justify the bloody road taken—it is simply about seeking satisfaction for Mizu. She cuts a bloody swathe across Japan because of what the Four White Devils did to her mother and herself. She does not concern herself with the ramifications of her wrath but merely charges forward, leaving behind a trail of viscera and gore behind her.
Like I said before, her vengeance and obsession with satisfaction is not painted by the show as wrong. It is how she allows it to affect others along the path. It's why the episode with Madame Kaji is so enlightening; Mizu should not tackle this quest as a vengeful revenant; an onryō. She has let the world define her as a monstrosity and so she embraced it, when Swordfather and Madame Kaji knew what the correct path was to satiate her need for vengeance. Treat her sword as the Artisan's tool it truly is. Treat her body the way an Artist would treat their canvas.
Madame Kaji and Swordfather are both outcasts, for being a woman and a blind man. Yet they found strength in their exclusion, becoming single-minded in their fields of art. Because sex is art and swordsmithing is art. It's what makes Mizu's body writing scene so fucking good.
Artistic vision becomes stagnant when one pulls from only one source. They become rigid and unbending when Mizu, like her namesake, must be fluid. She has shown fluidity in her use of her gender and her morals, but cannot apply that same flexibility towards her goal. Throughout season one, she was becoming an uninspired artist, merely painting the world in hues of scarlet. In a world that forces Women to be either Wives or Whores, Mizu chose to be a Warrior—but a warrior fights for a cause, whether it be just or otherwise. A soldier fights in an army. Mizu is neither of these things. She is an Artist first and foremost, and her medium is Death. Sex, something Mizu was at first hesitant before her failed marriage, and something she actively avoided afterwards, is what gives her a new perspective. Like an Illustrator studying life to better draw their intended worlds, taking inspiration from wherever one can find it.
Taigen and Akemi are also equally affected by the artistry of sex, as befitting of Mizu's fellow protagonists.
Akemi is quite obviously Mizu's narrative foil. Mizu chases after revenge like a bloodhound whereas Akemi longs for freedom like a bird in a cage. Both are fierce women who are unsatisfied with their lot in life, with their sex and gender being used against them in their lives. Literally, the episode "The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride" is a fucking triple entendre:
Mizu is the Ronin as well as the Bride.
The play showcases the tale of the Ronin and the Bride.
It is also Mizu as the Ronin and Akemi as the Bride.
And when Mizu finds her center as she melts down her blade and engages in body writing, this scene of enlightenment is juxtaposed with Akemi laying with her new husband Takayoshi. Both, in this moment, are taking control of their lives through sex. They are both taking control of their futures through the ways Madame Kaji taught them. Mizu and Akemi are both rebels against this oppressive society, and are both talented artists with their body. Whether that be sex, politicking, or ass-kicking.
Taigen, like the two women before, finds freedom through it but in a more subtle manner.
Where Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils, both using sex as a form of art and escape, Taigen finds liberation through his awakening.
Like the closeted bisexual man he is, he begins his journey of self-realization when he first encounters Mizu at the Dojo.
Every single battle these two have is purposefully rife with sexual tension. All his life, Taigen has been taught that a man must live with honor. That he must take control of his life and his identity, or he will have failed and that he is better off dead than to live with such shame.
Taigen is just as much a victim of the Patriarchal society around him. Mizu rails against it violently. Akemi seeks to run away from it all. And Taigen, with the privilege given to him by his manhood, chooses to become a perpetrator, enabling the vicious wheel of society to keep moving forward.
His obsession with honor leads him to hunting down and even protecting Mizu. Mizu is no doubt the better warrior, but even she knows she owes so much to Taigen. The blockhead not only did everything to protect her in the valley, but also sealed his lips shut even under the duress of torture. His obsession with honor becomes an obsession with Mizu.
His regrets over tormenting her over her looks and ethnicity as a child. His shame in having lost so decisively in his own dojo. Taigen was a man born with nothing and climbed up to the top with every advantage he could muster, and suddenly it's all ripped away by this one vengeful spirit passing by.
Taigen learns to surrender control around Mizu. He begins to discover his own sexuality and purpose around Mizu, redefining what honor really means to him now that he, as a man, has a budding attraction towards the man who beat him.
Mizu's Vengeance. Akemi's Freedom. Taigen's Honor. In all three, Sex becomes a catalyst in redefining what each of these concepts truly mean to them all. It's not just sex of course, but it is undeniable how the writers keep juxtaposing sexual acts and thoughts with massive character moments.
It changes how Mizu chases after her Vengeance. It recontextualizes how Akemi can be Free. It showcases the absurdity of the Honor forced upon Taigen.
It's so fucking refreshing seeing Sex not used as fanservice or shoe-horned in just to further a stale, poorly written cis-heterosexual romance; but used as a plot point that cannot be ignored. An impetus that fuels the narrative.
Moving forward, I'm curious as to how sex will be used.
The next few ideas aren't as sound or organized because I'm neither Asexual nor Genderfluid, so please if anyone reads this who understands it better, feel free to point it out.
I think it'd be cool if Mizu met the inverse of Madame Kaji. A person who is apathetic to sex. Sure, Swordfather has shades of this, but I'm tired of the person with disabilities also being on the Asexual spectrum. And I'm not saying that Ace or Graysexual people with disabilities don't exist! But they always tend to be written as having some form of disability (Varys from ASOIAF) or a Robot.
Just as artists need a variety of sources to pull inspiration from, I hope in the next seasons we get to see different perspectives on sex and gender. In London, it feels like Mizu finding the other half of herself, and with that having a better way of tackling her own identity. Whether it be gender, sex, combat, etc.
Basically what this inane rambling amounts to is that Blue Eye Samurai tackles sex and violence and revenge and obsession in ways that most media has yet to truly do. So that was pretty cool.
#blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai spoilers#blue eye samurai season 2#mizu#mizu blue eye samurai#akemi#taigen#metal#media analysis#character analysis#blue eye samurai meta#netflix are cowards for not announcing season 2 immediately#come on dickheads#the fans and the creators have been fighting for the green light#hand it over#you cocks#paprikash ramblings
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Hello how are you?
I'm not sure if I've already sent this to you so... If your requests are open I want to request a fic with yoongi (or a member that suits you better) where they are in a relationship and the reader feels neglected, yoongi is too involved with the next album to give us attention so the reader tries to break up but how are we talking from a Yandere... I think you know where I'm going lol
Sorry if it's too confusing, I really like your writing so I wanted to read this from your perspective (with a lot of angst pls🛐
You’re not leaving me
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You were done waiting for him, done being alone in this relationship. But it turns out Min Yoongi is someone who won’t let go. Idol!AU
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Dubcon, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: Here you go because you asked so nicely 💜3,333 words!
“He’s not coming, is he?”
You flinched from your friend’s sharp words. You turned around to meet her eyes, having to step out of your own party to ask where your boyfriend was, where Min Yoongi was.
“Something came up,” you replied, your voice small as you forced yourself to smile at her reassuringly. She eyed your phone, shaking her head as she lamented how this wasn’t even the first time your so-called boyfriend bailed out on you. She said and you quoted, ‘What’s the use of having a boyfriend when he can’t even make an effort to show up?’
You hated to agree, but for the life of you you could no longer defend him.
The truth was, he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up his phone tonight.
The truth was, this wasn’t the first time he did this to you.
The truth was, every time he told you he was sorry, you believed him a little less.
“You deserve so much better, Y/N,” your friend said as she wrapped her arms around you. For fuck’s sake, it was his and your anniversary. And the person you wanted to show up couldn’t even be bothered to show up, she thought.
That night, you didn’t go back to his home. You decided to instead go to your own apartment, the one you didn’t let go of once he asked you to move in. It turned out it was the smartest thing you had ever done. You woke up that morning with a single message.
‘Sorry I wasn’t able to pick up the phone. How’s my kitten?’
You scoffed, throwing your phone somewhere on your bed without replying. You had not gone home the whole night and yet, he didn’t ask you where you were. You were almost certain that Yoongi himself didn’t even come home last night. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he didn’t know you didn’t come home, or that he didn’t even bother to tell you he wasn’t coming home.
Or that he didn’t even remember it was your anniversary yesterday.
You felt hot tears falling freely on your face with the realization that you and him were nearing the end of your relationship.
Was this even how relationship should be?
Were you just wasting time on something that you thought was more?
Did he really love you?
Did he still love you?
The door opened before you could even enter the code. His eyes went wide when he saw you, relief apparent in his face and the way his shoulders loosened. You hadn’t even reacted yet when he pulled you inside his expensive apartment, his arms tight around you as he buried his face on your neck.
If he noticed that you didn’t welcome his embrace, he didn’t comment, too lost on his own misery when he found you gone.
“I thought something bad happened to you, kitten,” he began, his voice shaky. His embrace became even tighter and it started to hurt. But nothing could hurt more than your heart right now. “You didn’t answer my message. I was worried!”
He stepped back, finally noticing that you were still wearing your clothes yesterday.
“Where did you stay, kitten?” He asked, his tone holding something unfamiliar, something dark. His large and veiny hand, the one that you always admired, tilted your chin up. His eyes were serious. Yoongi was always serious but you felt like this was different. “You must have been too drunk to come back home, right, kitten? You should have called me. I would have picked you up, you know that,” his tone was sweet, yet his words felt like they were a warning, as if you displeased him.
“You won’t make me worry again, right? You won’t disappear without a word again, right kitten?”
And only when you nodded did he let you go. He smiled so sweetly at you, before telling you what he planned for the two of you today.
See, everytime Yoongi messed up, he overcompensated. He became more romantic, bought you expensive things you didn’t ask for, took you to places you had never been. He held onto you a little bit tighter. And that night, he touched you a little bit harder, thrusting just a little bit deeper into you as if he was claiming you.
Times like these were the reason why you thought he loved you. But then the vicious cycle continued. He would become busier, so immersed with his work that he forgot to love you. You were understanding, beyond understanding. But just because you understood didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.
It did.
And you could no longer live like this.
You didn’t know how to react when you saw on the internet that the group was seen at the airport today as they are bound to Japan- yet another thing he failed to mention to you. You were currently with your friend, hanging out after work when you saw the news. The look on your face must have been obvious that she snatched your phone away to read.
“You know what you have to do, Y/N. He treats you like you don’t even matter! How hard can messaging you be? It’s like he just wants you around without putting in effort in your relationship. Leave him, girl!”
You couldn’t even defend him because she was right.
The next night, he video called you. You must have been a masochist because you accepted.
“Hi kitten! Jimin’s asking which kimono you want,” he said in his deep voice, the camera showing you Jimin as he held up two Kimonos with different colors. His smile was a welcome reprieved from your dreary days. “Hi my favorite noona! Which do you want more?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at him calling you his favorite. “Why are you buying me Kimono, Jiminnie?”
“It’s a bribe so you won’t ever leave my hyung here,” he joked, unknowingly hitting you where it hurt. He was laughing at Yoongi as he said it. “He was more unbearable when he hadn’t found you yet.”
You lost your smile for a moment before acting as though you were happy. But Yoongi saw you faltered for a second. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t unfeeling. He could sensed that something changed, and to be honest it terrified him.
It terrified him what he would do if he lost you…if you ever leave him.
Once you decided what color you wanted, Yoongi came back on the screen. His handsome face never managed to not make your heart skip a beat.
“How’s my kitten? Did you have dinner already?” He asked in his sweet, deep voice.
“You’re in Japan,” you stated the obvious, your voice toneless as you looked at his confused and apologetic expression.
“Yes…I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you beforehand. Schedule’s a bit tight this week. I can’t wait to come home to you though, my kitten. I miss you. I love you deeply.”
That night, you didn’t say you loved him back.
You were done with the disrespect, with the disregard, with being an afterthought for him that you decided it would be best to leave while he was abroad. It would be easier for you to not have him around as you packed your things, as you packed the life you thought you would have with him.
With one sorrowful look at the bedroom you shared with him, you wheeled out your luggage out of the room only to found him sitting on the sofa quietly, swirling a glass of whiskey. The living room was dark, saved for the light provided by the lampshade, casting shadow on his face. He was staring at nothing, his form that of a statute from sitting so still. Slowly, so slowly he lifted his eyes to you.
“Going somewhere, kitten?” He asked in his deep voice, his eyes shifting to your luggage before idly returning to you.
“Y-Yoongi, why are you here?” You asked, your voice shaking with shocked and fright.
The side of his lips tilted up, his eyes observing your rigid form before sipping from his drink. He put it on the table with a thud, “I live here. So do you. So I’ll ask again. Where are you going?”
You were stunned by his replies. He shouldn’t be here. This was supposed to be easy. What was he doing here?
“B-but you’re supposed to be in Japan.”
Yoongi stood up, casually walking to you like a hunter would. It would be fitting because you felt like you were a prey as you backed away from him. He smirked, keeping his eyes on you even when you put the kitchen counter in between the two of you.
“I returned because I missed you, honey. Aren’t you happy I’m here now?” The look on his face terrified you, the look on his eyes was dark as though he was both hurt and angered by something, as though he was barely hanging on a thread. “Ahhh,” he pondered in realization. “You’re not happy to see me because you were fucking leaving me.”
“Y-Yoongi, you’re scaring me,” you all but whimpered as you backed away from him further when he came too close, his hand almost grabbing you. He tilted his head when you evaded his touch.
“Why are you running away from me?” He mocked you as he watched you ran back to the living room, putting so much space between the two of you.
He hated it.
Yoongi looked down at the expanse of the floor between him and you with so much disdain, his long black hair covering his face.
“Yoongi, let’s talk when you’re calm, okay?” You whispered in a soothing voice, not wanting to set him off. Yoongi had always been the calm one. He was even mistaken for an emotionless man. But you, of all people, knew that he only expressed his emotions with people he trusted, with people he loved. And you experienced how expressive he was when he was happy, when he was tired, when he was loving. But you were not familiar with how he was when he was angry.
You were terrified as you realized that now might be the time you saw his angry side.
“Why?” He droned, his eyes now focused on your luggage, glaring at it so hard as if he wanted it it disappear. As though he didn’t want to see the obvious evidence of you leaving him.
How could you leave him?
“Why do you want to talk now when you were going to fucking leave me without talking to me?!” He hissed, the veins in his neck protruding as he swiped off your luggage to the side in his haste to get to you.
And this time, you weren’t fast enough.
He had you trapped on the wall, his arms caging you as he looked down at you with sadness and fury in his eyes. “You’re really thinking of leaving me,” he whispered as tears formed in his eyes.
You attempted to push him away, your hands on his chest but he was as still as a stone. Why were you pushing him away, kitten? Didn’t you love him anymore? Wasn’t he attractive anymore?
Were you tired of me?
Was there someone else?
Was that why you were leaving him? You found someone better?
“Yoongi,” you breathed, trying to calm your nerves. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, could feel the emotions rolling off of him. He was shaking, his tears falling from his face as the handsome man looked at you with nothing short of broken. In an attempt to calm him, you slowly, so slowly caressed his face. Tears drenched your hand as he leaned on it, placing kisses on your palm. “Yoongi,” you called him again, wanting his eyes on you so he could understand why you had to do this.
“Yes, my kitten?”
“You don’t love me anymore. Or at least, you don’t love me like before,” you explained further and as kindly as you could.
He looked confused as he looked at your eyes intensely.
“You can’t seriously be surprised, Yoongi…I had to learn you were in Japan through the internet when you were the one I’m in a relationship with.”
“Are.”
What?
“You are in relationship with me. This is not ending. We are never ending.”
“Yoongi, I’m breaking up with you,” you quietly declared, and now that it was out there, you felt light. You felt…like this was right. Which was obviously opposite to what the man was feeling. Yoongi’s face glowered, his eyes burned with determination. His hold on your hand tightened when you attempted to withdraw from him.
How could he let you leave when you were the only sun in his world? When you made him feel?
“No. You’re not breaking up with me. You’re not leaving me. You’re staying with me until the end of time.”
“This is not working! You don’t give me time, you don’t tell me where you are, you don’t even show up-“
“So that’s the problem? That I’m not present? So you just want to be with me, right, kitten? I’m sorry I’ve been distant…” he whispered, his face nuzzling your neck despite your adamant refusal. “From now on, you’ll never be far from me.”
He promised himself you would never leave his sight until you took back the fucking thought that you would break up with him. If you thought breaking up with him was easy, you were in for a treat. If you thought he’d let you go that easily, then you didn’t know him at all.
“You don’t understand!” You yelled at him, feeling frustrated with how he was selectively hearing what you had to say. Your emotions were swelling up that you were able to muster the strength to push him away. You quickly put a lot of distance between the two of you, only able to manage it because he was in a daze.
“Yoongi, you only look for me when you remember me. That’s not love! I love you, but I love myself, too. I’m leaving you.”
His brows furrowed, why were you still insisting you were leaving him? He stared down at you with exasperation in his face, his nostrils flaring. Yoongi’s jaw clenched when he heard you said that you were leaving him.
And then he sprang into action.
You ran to the bedroom which was the closest room to you as you recognized you were in danger. You were about to slam the door to his face when he inserted his booted foot, effectively stopping it from closing. He barged into the room, flicking the lock himself before facing you with his dark face.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving me, kitten,” he declared, his voice hard before pushing you on the bed. He wasted no time, crawling to you and shoving your thighs apart. He settled in between your legs, avoiding you from closing them as he leaned closer to you.
In this position, you could not be more vulnerable as you were.
Yoongi was mad, yet his touches were soft. His hand caressed your face before kissing you. His kisses were different from before. He was kissing you as though he was starved, as though he was tired of holding back from you. His other hand was lifting your leg, rubbing his engorged erection on your core.
You wished you could say you were unaffected, but you weren’t.
He always knew which button to push, which spot to kiss to make you mindless. And Min Yoongi was using it to his advantage.
His tongue thrusted in your mouth, stroking against your tongue as though he was tasting you. The way he kissed you was unlike the ways you had been kissed before. This time, it felt a lot like claiming you. He was expert in this, you knew this from the start. His sexy, deep moans weakened your refusal that you found yourself pulling him close, your hand on his nape. His whole body was covering yours, his weight completely on top of you as his kisses dragged down to your neck.
He was marking you, latching on the thin skin and suckling like he wanted the whole world to know you were his woman. The way he suckled on your sensitive nipples made you whimpered, your hands on his silky, black hair. But when he went down to your core, breathing hotly on it, suddenly you remembered what you were supposed to do.
With renewed strength, you pulled his hair, stopping him from getting closer to your core. But you should know, you were no matched to a man who almost lost the only woman he ever loved. Yoongi growled, grabbing your wrists away from his hair.
“This is a mistake,” you moaned when he started lapping your core, his sinful tongue pushing past your lips with vigor. Your essence tasted heaven to him. How could you take this away from him, he thought. He could never go without this.
“No,” he growled, the vibration from his voice elating a moan from you. “This is fucking right.”
You tried twisting from him, a sad attempt at standing your ground. “I’m leaving you. Let me go!”
He chuckled, fucking chuckled as if it was hilarious to him. “Why would I let you go, kitten? You’re the one for me. We’re going to get through this.”
In your shocked at his adamant refusal to let you go, you didn’t notice that he stripped of his pants, his cock now bared to you. You always had trouble fitting him in you. He was thick, veins apparent on his cock. Every time you were done making love, you would always have difficulties walking. He fucked you that good.
His cock bobbed up and down as he crawled to you, his lips turning into a smirk as he watched you watched his hardness. His hot breath tickled your neck as he leaned in, his lips on your ear.
“You know why I’m not always with you?”
“Because you’re busy with work-“
He chuckled darkly, his hand completely encasing both your wrist while the other was playing with your clit, encircling it erotically.
“Wrong, kitten. I had to tear myself away from you because if I didn’t, you’d figure out how obsessed I am to you, how needy I am. If you knew, you would run to the hills. But I see now that was a mistake…you almost left me because of that.”
Your heart beat louder when he confessed. You tried twisting your wrists to make him let go of you to no avail. “Why are you telling me this now?”
With an indulgent smile, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He pushed your knees to your chest, completely baring you to him. “Because you deserve to know how much you are loved by me.” And how he would never let you go.
He grabbed his cock, sliding it between your wet pussy before guiding it to your entrance. You moaned from his ministration, his seduction working. Your body started to betray you, lust attacking your senses.
“You want me, right?”
You moaned when he pinched your nipple, his hard cock teasing your entrance.
“You love me, right? You’re never going to leave me…right?”
And when you moaned yes, he suddenly pushed his cock inside you.
By the end of that night, he made you screamed how much you loved him. And come morning, Yoongi looked at you with adoration, tracing the marks he left on your skin. The heat of your skin calmed him.
It scared him that he was willing to do anything for you.
And now, you would discover who he really was. You would discover a love that was too much, that was suffocating… a love that was his.
#yandere bts#suga x y/n#suga x reader#min yoongi fic#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yandere min yoongi#yandere suga#bts fic
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Chapter 9
Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader
Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
-------------------------------------------------------
König went crazy with the news. He would come home with baby stuff, onsies, burp cloths, books on parenting, baby bottles, diapers, crib, stroller, baby car seat.
He would assemble the crib and make a nursery in the next room. The only thing you did is to make sure your healthy and worry about the baby growing inside of you.
When you told König about the news, he showed how happy he was by giving you a night of love and intimacy. Not in the animal way he was giving you. It was more softer and gentle that you fell head over heels for him. Him being soft to you and the baby gave you a new perspective of him. You were not scared of him.
He wasn't lashing out on you as before. You have been scared to ask him if it was okay for you to step outside for the first time since you've been here. Everything has been going so good, you didn't want to ruin it.
König has hired a private medic that specializes in peds to help you with the pregnancy and to be there for when you give birth.
As months pass by, you grew and the more you grew the more König crave you. He would have sex with you, gentle so he won't harm the baby. When it was time for your due date, you were quite nervous about giving birth.
You used your knowledge and check yourself everyday to prepare for when you would go into labor.
Eventually, that day came by. König was outside, doing whatever he does. You were in the kitchen, preparing yourself a little snack when you felt pain. That pain was followed by a feel of gush going down your legs. You saw the puddle on the floor and went into a bit of panic.
You took a few deep breaths and hoped that König would enter the house soon. But he didn't. It left you with no choice, but to run to König outside. You opened the front door. You hoped that König wouldn't yell at you.
König rolled out from under his truck and saw you there. He got up and ran towards you. "König! The baby is coming."
His eyes widen as he quickly dialed the medic, who came in quick.
You were laying on your back with your legs spread open. König was sitting next to you, holding your hand. When the medic told you to push with everything you got, you did.
It felt like hell. The pain so too much, but you heard the baby cry, it all went away. They weren't kidding when they say the pain will go away as soon as you held your baby. The medic placed your newborn baby on your chest and you saw all the little features.
"Congratulations, a beautiful baby boy." The medic said.
He had your hair and skin color and when he opened his eyes, you saw the pure, clear, blue eyes. He has König's eyes.
König will hold him. Your baby is so tiny when he's being held by König's arms that it makes it more adorable.
He would wake up in the middle of the night and feed him. He would change his diaper when you would take your day naps. He would rock him to sleep, so you can take a moment for a shower.
As for you, he would help you whenever when it comes to your needs. He would help you wash your hair when your arms are too tired from holding the baby. He would give you feet massages when your carrying the baby all day.
When you feel your breast filled up and sore, he would suck them dry for you.
He was honestly living the best life and he would not let anybody get in between them.
So when he saw Horangi carrying your baby as you plead for him to give him back. He felt anger.
"Horangi! What are you doing!?" He screamed at him, pulling you back to behind him.
"What, König? You think it's fair for you to live this life. You fucking put us here!" He said, pointing his bowie knife at you and him.
"And what? Killing MY child is going to solve this!?" He took a step closer to him.
"Oh. I'm not going to kill him. I think that maybe I should live this life too. You're just going to be in the way König." He swayed his knife back and forth with a smile on his face.
König laughed, "you're going to kill me? Is that your plan."
"Mm. No." The three of you heard police sirens coming in close, "you see, I served my time in that fucking hospital. You escaped. I did nothing wrong here, you did."
Königs fist clenched so hard, you could see all of his veins and muscles on his wrist. "du verdammter Verräter! (You fucking traitor!)"
"Now, König. You don't want to kill me while I'm holding your son.." he tilted his head, "sorry, my son. He'll need a father growing up wouldn't he."
"You? A father? The only thing you're gonna do is pass down your gambling addiction." König felt your hand on his arm, he looked back at you over his shoulder.
"Please don't make this worse König." König felt everything crumbling down.
The moment he saw you at that hospital. The moment he saw how you defended him. He never felt so weak and hatred as he does now.
He heard bannging on the door. He opened as saw many police officers. He put his hands on the air as they cuffed him and placed him on the back of the police car.
König went through trial for escaping and murdering the people at the hospital.
Now, instead of the Psychiatric hospital, he's behind bars. People have heard rumors. How he killed all the workers and left one alive. How he tortured that victim to death.
He would receive letters from Horangi. Letters of him being taunted on how he's taking care of you. Of his son.
He would even visit König and tell him how good you are to him. König doesn't need to know the full truth either way.
He even gave him the news that you are expecting another child. His child.
Horangi's child.
König counted the days. He didn't lash out. He didn't do anything bad. He was too clouded with anger that he didn't do anything behind bars.
Which led to, "good news, König. You'll be out sooner than we thought. That good behavior is doing you good."
He was counting the days. The day where he will be excorted out from prison. The day where he will see the gate open. The day where he will see the sky again.
The day where he will stop at nothing to find you.
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod x reader#fanfic#konig#könig#könig cod#könig x reader#yandere konig#yandere könig#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig cod#konig x reader#könig call of duty#könig mw2#könig x y/n#könig x you
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“Stay the night.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: after eddie gets his ass kicked for helping you out, you show up to his trailer to aid his wounds.
warnings: enemies to lovers, fighting, slight harassment, very brief smut sorry y’all, jason carver as his cunt self, mostly told from eddie’s perspective, i don’t want to give away the major plot twist in this so all i’ll say is that there is talk of major physical trauma/abuse, also credits to @vol2eddie for helping me with the idea! also, should i do a part two to this?
pt 2
The only reason he even debated going and helping you was because of Wayne’s golden rule. Always respect women. Help them when they need it. Protect them. Wayne was old fashioned when it came to his viewpoints, but he made sure Eddie was raised well and had a good morale compass. Right now, Eddie was cursing it. Of all people.
He was just about to hop in his van to leave school for the day when the basketball team caught his eye, and the pretty girl they surrounded. He threw his backpack through his rolled down window and rested a hand on his hip, watching through his dark sunglasses. “Oh, shit.” He said, realizing you were the girl who’s attention had been caught from the pubescent young men.
Eddie hated you, and you him. It had been like that for years. Everyone knew it. Everyone knew you too couldn’t tolerate being in the same room together. The school guidance counselor even had to change two of his classes so he wouldn’t have to engage with you. He didn’t like to think about way back when, the days you where once friends. It almost made him sad.
“Fuck,” He turned to get in his van, let it be, but it was clear whatever they were saying to you was making you very uncomfortable. When he seen Jason Carver, enough was enough. “Damn it.”
He trudged up the hill to the patch of grass you were standing in, a beating in his heart indicating his nervousness. “Hey!” He barked, getting the attention of everyone. He tried his best not to look small. 
“Munson?” Carver raised a brow, surprised to see him. “May we help you with something?”
You locked eyes with Eddie, face masked in surprise and curiosity. Jason had cornered you, along with his goons, trying to get you to go out with him. As if you’d ever go out with him. You loathed him. He wouldn’t let you pass, wouldn’t let you say no. By the time he had grabbed your elbow, Eddie Munson had shown his face in the crowd, the last person you had expected to see.
Eddie and you had history. Not good history, either. You used to be very close in 7th grade. Almost best friends. To this day, Eddie didn’t know why you dipped and broke his young heart. You never gave him a reason. It wasn’t important for him to know. Besides, it was easier to hate him.
“Just seeing what the problem was.” Eddie shrugged, looking away from you to Jason, trying to keep his shoulders tall and broad. Jason was significantly taller than him.
“Problem?” Jason shook his head. “No, no, there’s no problem. Just curious as to why you suddenly give a shit about y/n over here.” He laughed, along with his friends.
He laughed, too. Carver had a point. Still, golden rule, Eddie. Golden rule. “Yeah, well,” He took a step toward him. “Just making sure no one was uncomfortable.”
He ignored you completely now. He wouldn’t look at you.
“Uncomfortable?” Jason scoffed. “Freak Munson is getting brave, boys! I think if you don’t step back, man, the only one who will be uncomfortable is you.”
God, he’d almost broken his record. He’d gone almost 10 days without a black eye. He sighed heavily, bringing back his fist.
•
“What do you want?” Eddie was surprised to see you on the porch of his trailer, caressing a first aid kit in your hands. It was late, almost nine o’clock. There was a chill in the air and you had a thick coat wrapped around you.
“You have a black eye.” You pointed out awkwardly, shifting your weight. “I came here to…well, thank you for what you did. And to patch you up. You’ve got a little cut up there.” You lifted your finger.
“Mhm, I’m aware.” He said, holding a cold beer to his eyebrow. “But I don’t need your thanks and I don’t need you freezing to death on my porch. I didn’t do any of that for you.”
You sniffed in the cold, closing your arms to your chest. “Oh? Then why did you?”
He rolled his eyes, debating kicking you off his porch steps. “Look, my uncle taught me to respect women, okay? Look out for…well, your breed.”
You held your head high. “I see. Very admirable of you. You gonna let me in so I can help?” You let yourself in anyways, pushing past him. You tried not to stare and recall the memories of when you’d last been inside his home. It had been many years.
“Hey!” Eddie slammed the door shut. “This is breaking and entering!”
“You’re gonna preach to me about the law?” You raised a brow, taking off your coat. “You of all people?”
“How bout shuttin’ the fuck up, eh?” He plopped down on his couch, glaring at you. “I don’t need any of your help to begin with.”
“But you let me in.” You kicked off your boots, giving him a pointed look.
“I can kick you out anytime, L/n.” He stared at you through his lashes. “I suggest you doctor me up before you’re kicked to the curb.”
Your both stared at each other for a moment before you sat beside him on the couch. He stiffened when you touched his cut with an alcohol wipe, making you apologize softly under your breath. Neither him nor you thought you’d be in such close proximity ever again. It felt awkward, at least that’s how Eddie saw it. It was awkward and unconscious. He wanted you gone, but he couldn’t deny that your touch was almost a little bit comforting to his throbbing headache.
“I really do mean it,” You broke the silence, noticing the small cuts on his knuckles. He’d gotten in several good punches, but he looked like shit. “I appreciate what you did, even if it wasn’t for me. I owe you this.”
He flexed his fingers when you started dabbing at his ring finger. “You don’t owe me anything.”
You wrapped a small bandaid around his pinky finger, switching to his other hand where it had been bruised. “Still. Thank you, Eddie. Those guys are jerks.”
“What did they want, anyways?” He found himself contributing to the conversation.
“Jason was trying to convince me to go out with him,” You paused to look at him, the sudden look of your eyes startled him, his body tense and uncomfortable. “I said no but he wouldn’t listen. He grabbed my arm. That’s when you showed up.”
Eddie scoffed lightly. “Yeah, sounds about right for Carver. Piece of shit, if you ask me.”
“I agree.” You nodded, wiping away dried blood around his knuckles.
You both found it odd that you were having a normal conversation, not a screaming match. It was kind of nice actually. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.” You sighed, wrapping another finger in a bandaid. “How’s Wayne?”
“He’s fine.” He said dismissively.
Your eyes dropped and you looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you this time, only the floor. It killed you that Eddie hated you so bad. It killed you that you had to hate him. You wished you could explain things to him. Make the world twist back in time. But again, it was easier to hate him. Wasn’t it?
“I’ll get this done so I can go.” You halfway muttered, causing Eddie to look at you. He found himself not wanting you to leave.
“Sorry.” He licked his lips. “Old man is fine. Working everyday. Bringing home the bacon. Same old. You remember that, I’m sure.” He leaned back on the couch, allowing you to decorate his fingers with bandaids. He didn’t question the girly designs on them.
You breathed heavily. “Yes, I do. I miss him.”
When was the punchline? You two didn’t do this. You didn’t coerce with one another. “Why are you really here?” Eddie questioned you.
“What do you mean?” You paused your work.
“You come here to mock me or something?” He raised his brow, an inquisitive tone in his deep voice. “Tell me I shouldn’t have gotten in the way?”
“No.” You said firmly, placing his hand down. “I told you why I’m here.”
“Well, I don’t believe you.” He sat up to glare at you, dark curls tossed behind his shoulder.
“I’m not out to get you, Eddie!” You raised your voice. “Believe it or not, I came here with sincere intentions.”
He scoffed. “Sincere intentions, huh? That what you thought when you ditched me in eighth grade? Was that sincere intentions?”
“You don’t know the whole story, Eddie!” You snapped, gathering your trash and standing up. “You can hate me all you want but it’s not fair. Nothing about anything is fair!” You ranted, throwing your bandaid sleeves in the trash.
Eddie’s eyes were wide, startled. He looked down to his hands, seeing the pink and purple bandaids. An awkward silence ensued.
“I’m really sorry, Eddie.” Your voice broke across the room, making him snap his head up. Were you crying? “I never wanted any of this to happen. It just…I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” You were crying.
Eddie stiffened. He didn’t know what to do. Here, his mortal enemy was crying in his home. He had the urge to kick you out, yet comfort you at the same time. But how was he to do that? “You’re not making any sense, L/n.” He said awkwardly.
“I know, I know.” You had your back to him, waving your hand. “I’m sorry, I know. I just…wish things could be different. I wish you could know…how sorry I am that things turned out the way they did.”
He raised one singular brow, mouth falling in ajar. He’d never been more confused in his life. “Listen, Y/n, I’m feeling very uncomfortable right now so…you want a beer or something?” He tried to contribute to the conversation in some helpful manor.
You turned, stilling his movements at the sight of your tears and snotty nose. He swallowed hard. “You alright?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I just…can we talk about somethings?”
“What things?”
“Things from back then.”
“Back then as….?”
“Eighth grade.”
No, not really. He didn’t want that. But did he? This could be his chance to get some answers, and it was clear you were ready to give them. He halfway wanted to turn you away, but the sight of your tears made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want you crying, oddly enough.
“Yeah, okay.” He gave up with a heavy sigh, patting the seat on the couch next to him for you to sit.
When you sat down next to him, your shoulders brushed and he stiffened. He cleared his throat, fiddling with his hands. You wiped your face with your sleeve. Maybe he should’ve offered you a tissue. Did he even have those?
“You remember my parents, right?” You started, making him scoff.
“Yeah, they’re assholes. Why?”
Here goes nothing. You turned to put your back to him, placing your hands at the side of your shirt. With one movement, you lifted it over your head, leaving you in your red bra.
Eddie jumped like a startled deer, but settled when he saw what was in front of him. Your back was decorated in thick, red marks, splatted across it’s length. Eddie couldn’t help but move closer, his jaw falling slack. He placed his hand on your shoulder to get a better look.
“You knew they hated you.” Your voice was thick with tears. “Especially my dad. He said you were evil and wicked. He said you’d…you’d take- advantage of me. He said if I didn’t stop being your friend then he’d..he’d, he’d kill you.”
Eddie felt like he was going to be sick. He knew these marks were from a belt. A thick one. You were bruised everywhere. He stomach churched and he thought he was going to be sick. He traced a bruise with his finger.
“My parents are creative when it comes to dealing out punishments.” You laughed without humor, a crack in your voice. “Eddie, I know you hate me, but I hope you don’t really hate me. Because I don’t hate you. I never have. It was just easier to let you go. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
It was like Eddie had been transported back to eighth grade. His hair was buzzed and he had horrible acne scars and buck teeth, but you were still as beautiful as he’d ever thought. Eddie’s heart had broke and it was as if no time had past, there had been no water under the bridge you were standing on.
He got up and moved to the other end of the couch where he could see your face, and he pulled you in for a hug, careful where he put his arms. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He pleaded with you. “Forgive me, I’m so so sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
You couldn’t help but cry in his arms, relishing the feeling of having your friend back. “It’s okay. Just hold me.”
He scooted closer and held you tighter. Mentally, his mind was a battlefield, connecting dots and pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t known existed. Everything made so much sense now. He hated every bit of it.
Eddie held you for almost an hour. You both laid on the couch where you stayed on top of his chest, torsos flush against the other. It was extremely intimate. Eddie asked the questions he wanted, to which he finally got answers to. It made you feel so much better, a weight that wasn’t no longer pressed against your windpipe.
Within the minutes, you were both looking at each other, staring into each other’s eyes with a gentle softness. Eddie wanted so badly to kiss you, a thought he never imagined would cross his mind. He also hoped you weren’t aware of his slight hard on. After all, a beautiful girl was laying on top of him, shirtless.
“Kiss me.” You said through a whisper, brave and quiet.
Eddie gulped, giving a slight nod. “Okay.”
He leaned in until his plush lips were soft against yours. With a tiny movement, he kissed you, opening his mouth ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. It really wasn’t even much of one. It was so delicate and soft as snow, but it meant the world to you. When you put your hand on his cheek, he took it as a sign to kiss you harder. He did, pressing his face into yours and opening his lips wide to give you his tongue. Your lips lapped and licked and your breath was hard in each other’s faces.
You felt the heat between your legs throb. You couldn’t but moan. He groaned right back. As much as he wanted to have you, now wasn’t a good time. It wasn’t the right time, not of all circumstances. He gave you one last kiss before he pulled away. You were almost sweating. He smiled, pulling you back into his chest. “Stay the night.”
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things season four#eddie munson x reader#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson blurb
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Transcribed Excerpts from Christian Horner's hour long Interview that are batshit insane and so narratively dense you'd think they're lifted wholesale from a book, featuring:
The most in depth, behind the scenes view of what transpired in 2018
Fords CEO getting in touch with Dax to gush about how much he likes Daniel
Christian feeling vindictive towards Daniel
Christian comparing Sebastian and Max
Christian comparing Daniel to Roger Federer
How Christian had to mitigate Helmut's shitshow and personally asking Dietrich to give Daniel everything he wanted
Hilarious rapid fire in the end and his perspective on the failure of Ferrari
●●● <- indicates a time skip
Dax: In tennis you see guys when they lose steam, they break apart.
Christian Horner : you see that with checo.
●●●
[Dax mentions that in Christian's position, a lot of people would not have invited Daniel back into the family. "Because Daniel turned his back on the family." ]
Christian: Daniel's a great guy. Very badly advised in his early career. Everybody fucks up at some point. I think he recognizes that he made a mistake. He didn't have good advice around him at the point he left us. Having spent time outside the family he realized what he had here was actually good. It was horrible to see that it got worse and worse after us. It was actually this time last year in Mexico where I sat down with him in my hotel room, I told him you need a complete reset- take a year out. Come back to us.
Dax: He's such a win for you guys.
Christian: Totally.
Dax: you sent Daniel to Jim Farley [ CEO of Ford] and I know Jim Farley and he got in touch with me and told me "That Daniel Ricciardo guy is the greatest!" I'm like to him: he's the dream, send him anywhere.
●●●
Christian: He's [Daniel] a confidence driver, when he's got his mojo, he one of the fastest guys on the grid.
Dax: he's lethal.
Christian: yep.
Dax: he's got that magic thing that people either have or don't have in my opinion which is: there are winners and there are not winners
[you're not ready for this lol]
Christian: He came to us, he's one of our juniors, I remember going to watch him in formula 3, he really stood out. Very smooth. Just great. Naturally. Like a Roger Federer kind of style behind the wheel, very very classic. Light touch. Great, great skill. And then he came through the system [RB program] when we had Sebastian Vettel, 4 time world champion- Mark Webber retired. We chose Daniel as the Junior, with no expectation on him and he started beating Vettels ass. he won 3 races in 2014 when we had FAR from the best engine, Sebastian never won a race that year.
Dax: Even his time at Mclaren, it sucked for him but he's the only one who won a race.
Christian: He IS the only one who won a race.
Dax: and for a long time now.
Christian: and Renault he had great performances. [...] he's got to feel the love. He's got to feel comfortable in the environment that he's in. Some of his races for us were- absolutely outstanding.
●●●
[Christian about the 2018 negotiations]
Christian: I asked Dietrich to show Daniel love. Helmut was obviously pro Max, I said if you could just balance things out, let him [Daniel] know you want him. Dietrich said "no problem, I'll talk to him" so he took Daniel upstairs after the race in Austria to talk to him, and they were there for well over an hour.
Dax: To the point you were nervous?
Christian: I thought SHIT! But they reappear, and they're both smiling, I tell him: "Dietrich, how did it go?" He says,"No problem, don't worry about it. It's not even a question [that daniel would leave]"
Christian: Then we went to Germany, and his engine blew up. His engine kept letting him down, letting him down, letting him down. But from there, we went to Hungary, and we got his paperwork [Daniel's contract] for a TWO year deal all sorted out. Daniel's manager came to me and said 'listen Daniel is nervous about the engine' because we were going to switch to Honda so his manager said: 'he'll do ONE year' I thought wow. That's not really what we talked about, because in 6 months we'll be having the same conversation. So I remember I went back to Dietrich, and I said, "it's about relationships. It's NOT about contracts. If he wants a one year contract, give him a one year contract," so at this point: he's got everything he wants. Also, at that point, Daniel was doing a test for us after the Hungarian race, I thought Daniel will sign the paperwork on Monday, suddenly Monday goes and he's in the car on Tuesday. I'm starting to smell something because this is an enormous deal, you'd have thought he'd be in a rush to sign this contract. And he didn't sign the contract before he got in the car in the morning and I thought he'd sign by lunchtime but it didn't happen. He had to get out of the car and go straight to the airport because he's flying from here to LA and I thought he'll call me. I'm feeling something at this point.
Dax: you know you're about to be broken up with.
Christian: yeah.
Dax: if your girlfriend didn't show up to lunch then dinner-
Christian: exactly. So- he [daniel] rings me, I was in the car with Geri, he tells me "I just got off the plane, I arrived in LA, and I've been thinking on the flight, all the way here- I'm not going to sign the contract. I'm going to take another contract. [...] he tells me Renault? The engine that let him down for 2 years? I was convinced, I was CONVINCED- because Daniel has got a sense of humour- I thought- he's taking the piss. I thought come on. I told him: come on. There is no way. You're not going to Renault, stop fucking about, just sign the contract. After 10 minutes he finally persuaded me that he was going to Renault. It was disappointing.
Dax: I wanna applaude you, because a lot of people who go through that experience think: fuck you.
Christian: there was an element of that. I thought: go and suck on a lemon for a bit. But actually during the pandemic, I remember he called me and said "Christian I hate to say this to you but you were right"
•••
Christian thinks Max > Vettel
Christian about Alex and Pierre being teammates with Max: he broke them
[Very confused in this part because Christian like? Says the best thing for Checo to perform is to forget about Max, stop trying to compete with him, stop looking at his data? Girl you are NOT selling it rn]
•••
When Christian is asked to analyse Red Bull's champions, he thinks Sebastian and Max are diametrically opposed . Sebastian is your stereotypical German, he would be at the track until 11 to analyse data. Max is not interested in all the detail [devasting news for all the bitches who spent years trying to dunk on Daniel by calling him not technical, Christian seems to think that Daniel and Max share a natural ability that doesn't rely on data.] He [Max] Gives you just what he needs to go faster. Max hates testing, has no interest in it.
●●●
Christian confirms he has a lucky toilet.
●●●
Christian says in 2014-18 Red Bull came this 🤏 close to selling to Audi.
●●●
Christian: Drive to Survive is the Kardashians on wheel
●●●
Christian: You get characters like Gunther Steiner. How scary is he. He used to work for us, I had to be the one to fire him.
●●●
Christian on why he believes Ferrari have failed over the last 15 years: Ferrari is a national institution instead of a Team. It needs to become a racing team again. Too many people have input at the top.
#it like. reads like fanfic#this team is so fucked up none of this can be healthy#what makes him tick#its all very insane. Machiavellian!Christian... be very afraid.#i wish Christian didnt speak about seb like that. just be more respectful. he clearly has his favourites#f1#daniel ricciardo#Christian horner#brazilian gp 2023
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