#he looks so uwu at the same time i cannot
Note
i loved your heartsteel!kayn scenarios! can you possibly do a scenario of fem!reader helping heartsteel!kayn dye his hair :3
✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Getting His Hair Dyed by Reader ✖
✖ Word Count: 900
✖ Tags: Established R/S
✖ A/N: He has his default skin braid here. Stay tuned for more. I MISS THIS FUCKER'S BRAID OK. Also you are his long term partner! I thought it would be cute if you have been supporting him though all his ups and downs uwu
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" For reals, you've done this before right. Don't fuck it up I swear to god I will cry I'm dealing with enough shit right now babe."
" You're the one that asked me to do this for you, have some trust in me."
You comb through his braid and neatly section if off one last time before slapping on the DIY at home bleach. After getting kicked out of his old band Kayn wanted a full makeover, so with five boxes of bleach and some whining he convinced you to help him bleach and dye his hair. You stood awkwardly behind him as you comb in the bleach. Kayn wasn't wearing a shirt, so that he wouldn't ruin any tees. So it was quite a sight, hair down, topless, you pause for a bit and stare. After some thinking you sigh, you were going to miss his blue and black hair...it was so soft too...
" Hey I heard that sigh! You know I HAVE to do this...I want to change my image, show them I'm better without them!"
Kayn pouts, you see it in the mirror and laugh. Slapping on more bleach, sectioning it out and complaining once again bout how the long hair sticks to the gloves and makes it all messy. But ok, you work hard, with a roll of aluminum foil ready you neatly bleach his long hair. As you wait for the first bleaching to set in you throw a little of the leftovers on your hair too, just enough for one strip.
" Should we match colors?"
You see Kayn visibly perk up as he hears your suggestion.
" Really? I think that will be cute. Like a cringey couple."
He smirks, leaning back to take a good look at you in the toilet mirror. He starts laughing loudly.
" Wait are you copying me or making fun of me! Why bleach that same chunk of hair as the old me!"
The two of you chat for a bit as you wait for the bleach to set in, when times up you help him wash it all off in the tub. Damn his hair was really such a dark black, it was just brown now. You comment about it needed a few more rounds of bleach. Kayn sighs this time instead, exhausted already but his rockstar image was at stake, he wanted to look cool so he had to do this. He had a goal already, an ombre fade of pink and purple, it would be so cool. Sitting back down, you blow dry his hair and start on round two.
And round three. Orange.
And four. Yellow.
And five before the yellow finally lifts enough! You were finally free from seeing that yellow, orange hue! And-
Oh no. You look at a handful of hair in your hands from where you combed through his hair.
" Kayn I am so sorry..."
" No! I cannot deal with this right now please. Y/N Tell me its fine."
" I'll fix it!"
You too were unsure how to react, were you going to cry or laugh. After five bleaches, his hair kinda...fried off. Ah...you were REALLY going to miss his long hair. Promising to fix it, you grab some hair scissors and did your best. With Kayn doing everything to hold himself together while you save what you can and work out a messy cut. It actually looked really good. You tell him to look up as you blow dry his hair yet again. Promising it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. Kayn tentatively pulls his hands away from his face as he looks at himself in the mirror. A smile slowly creeping across his face.
" Oh shit you really did fix it? The hell Y/N! Let's dye it right now! I still want that pink purple thing going down!"
He tilts his head left and right, trying to get a better look at it, an idol worthy style. Kayn nods, happy with what you've done with it. Quickly you work the colors onto his hair and yours. Laughing together as he admires himself in the mirror. Half an hour passes and you wash his hair and dry it off for the last time. Kayn himself also helping to wash the and dry your hair. You smile as the two of you admire your reflections.
" Is it me or are we looking super hot?"
He snakes and arm around your waist, pulling you close. Giving your cheek a quick kiss.
" I actually like this a lot I'm glad it worked out. Thank you Y/N."
Kayn gives you a warm smile as he runs his hands through his hair, giving it a little shake as it falls gracefully along his jawline. He turns his attention back to the mirror before he shouts.
" Oh shit yeah! Let me snap a photo!"
Kayn leaves the room for a bit, grabbing his phone and a nice shirt to snap a photo in. He returns, hand draped around your shoulder as he takes a mirror selfie with you both. The largest smile plastered on his face as he sits down and edits it to use as his new wallpaper. You would mourn his pretty braid but...he was still your charming boyfriend you could live with the new style. The short hair was starting to grow on your after all.
#Also I like just bleached and dyed my hair to match og Kayn and was thinking of this scenario the whole time LMAO#Anon Answer#Shieda Kayn#Shieda Kayn x Reader#SCENARIOS#League of Legends Scenarios#Kayn LoL#Heartsteel!Kayn#KaynLeague#Kayn League#Kayn x Reader#this might be a bit weird i hope its still fun to read#had some ????????!!!!!! writing this#also this is also from personal experience where i bleached my hair 7 times and it just snapped at random places oops
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id absolutely adore a part 2 for quietness if you plan to continue it! i’m a huge lover of the sub gekko agenda <3
“Quietness”
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
[Gekko/F!Reader] [Slight Cypher/F!Reader]
Words: 5.7K
Tags: NSFW +18, smut, Dom!Reader, Sub!Gekko, choking, vaginal sex, cowgirl, fluff, angst, miscomunication, Cypher being an annoying but good friend.
Warning: When it comes to exploring kinks and stuff, always talk to your partner first and ask for consent >:0!
[Hope you like it uwu!!]
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Gekko's bounds tighten around his wrists when a sharp spike of pleasure racks down his spine and straight to his cock, flexing the muscles of his arms and thrusting his hips to chase after the delicious feeling.
Eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his extremities limited to no-movement, Gekko lets himself be drowned in the pleasure overwhelmingly consuming him with your wrist flicking up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm.
Your tongue connects to the head of his cock, slicking it with your spit before sucking him and bobbing your head up and down alongside your hand masturbating him fastly, tongue toying on the underside of his cock and mapping out every vein decorating it. He swallows back his groan when he feels the heat of your mouth, thrusting his hips until he hears you gag on his dick and the sound of you choking, trying to stuff your mouth with his cock, sends him into overdrive.
The only thought running through his mind right now is how good you look between his legs, naked, and burning him from the inside with those heavy red eyes of yours glowing in the dimly lit room while you suck him off.
The second thing running through his mind is how badly he wants to cum; and if it lands on your face, the better, that's just an extra to make one of his fantasies true.
You've deprived him from his orgasm for far too long; toying with him, edging him with no means of end, he cannot fathom waiting for longer with how fast he feels his climax approaching.
But the moment you see him about to break, you snatch your hand away, a malicious smile painting your features.
The makeshift gag at his mouth stops any attempt of begging for you to keep going. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes, and Gekko grunts in frustration, squirming under your weight and your burning gaze with no success of mercy.
“Look at you,” you whisper. The tip of your fingers run over the flushed head of his cock, biting your lower lip to stop a giggle when it twitches under your touch and the pre-cum rolls down the slit. “So pretty for me, Mateo, such a good boy.”
His moans are muffled behind the cloth on his mouth, and you cannot help but want to hear what he has to say after torturing him to fulfill your own desires.
Leaning over, you make a show of sliding your body against his as slowly as possible, enjoying his full attention and the neediness he obviously has for you. When you take the gag from his mouth, he tries to shove his face to reach for your lips, whining when you dodge and return to sitting on his thigh with your hands caressing his chest and flicking on his nipples to see him squirm.
“Please…” he mutters, breathing heavily. He seems about to burst out crying if you don't touch him anytime soon. “Please let me cum, I want to cum…”
Rolling your hips against his cock, you watch closely his lower lip tremble and his arms fight against the bounds attaching him to your bed frame when he feels his shaft slide in between your lower lips. You repeat the motion, Mateo gasps and thrusts his hips to feel the slickness covering his cock.
“Please!” He begs, groaning your name. “Please, I'll do anything! Just, let me—”
Grabbing the base of his cock, you don't let him finish the sentence when you slide him inside your cunt swiftly, cutting him off and making his words slurred to end up on a moan.
You gasp in pleasure at the same time, feeling him stretch you inch by inch until he is fully sheathed and pulsing against your walls. A whole shiver washes over you when the tip of his dick brushes against your most sensitive spot, squirming on top of him with the need to feel it again.
Gekko's tears roll down his cheeks, panting heavily and flushed with embarrassment when you wink at him and lick your lips in anticipation. The act on itself is so filthy that it does nothing but heighten his want to pleasure you above anything else.
To be reduced to this mess, tied to a bed, gagged and being controlled this heavily makes him shy, never believing himself to be into the dominant and submissive roles. But you make it easier on him, enjoyable to the point Gekko would let you do anything to him if you asked.
“You're so warm…” he mutters, eyelids heavy and pointendly observing where you're connected. He thrusts his hips, to test the waters and see if he can rile you up as payback. “So tight, ngh—”
Gekko sees you biting your lip, restraining your sounds and hands holding his hips down to stop him from moving. Your stare hardens when you cross sights, and a hand flies to his neck, fingers wrapping around his throat to put some pressure and using it as a leverage to lean in, cock sliding out slowly until only the head is still inside you.
“This alright, Mateo?” You ask, squeezing his throat softly. He nods, gasping.
“Please, yes.” Grunting, he does his best to stay still and not give in into his wishes to thrust his cock back.
“So polite.” Without further words, you slam your hips back down, hand squeezing his throat softly.
Gekko moans when you start bouncing on his dick, feeling the well-known tight knot start forming on his lower belly, burning him with the desire of release.
The plush of your thighs wraps around his waist to keep you in place when your desperation gets the better of you and begins accelerating the pace, choking him harder and throwing your head to the side while moaning out his name and maintaining eye contact throughout the whole exchange.
Gekko's groans get cut off when the pressure you apply makes the air stop circulating. It turns out he seems to like the rough treatment more than he anticipated, feeling his dick twitch inside your velvety walls when the suffocation gets to his head, heightening the pleasure and any other sensation coursing through his body.
“C'mon, Mateo,” your urge, bouncing eagerly now with the promise of a good show. “Hold on a little more. Be a good boy.”
Those words make him tremble with excitement, bucking his hips alongside yours and struggling against the binds unconsciously.
Gekko was drooling by this point, tongue peeking out and eyes rolled to the back of his head while being constantly stimulated by the suffocation and you fucking his brains out.
The slam of your hips is constant and wild, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit and the head of his cock brush against your g-spot everytime he thrust deeply.
The warmness spreading from your lower belly rushes faster than you anticipate, bursting from the overwhelming pleasure of getting off from his expression and how vulnerable he looks that your orgasm washes over you in waves of exhilarating bliss.
“Oh, Mateo!” You moan, hips still moving. “So good, baby, ah— so good.”
Gekko preens from your words, it’s enough for the tight knot to finally burst and become undone under your touch and stimulation.
Your hands weaken in grip when you cum all over his shaft, making him able to breathe and whimper shyly from climaxing on your words alone—he was getting lightheaded, dizzy, but that didn't lessen how much he loved being choked and how much pleasure racks his body with the aftershock of his orgasm.
He cums heavily, spurs after spurs of his semen decorating the insides of your walls and hips stuttering to keep the contact while he rides his climax with delight.
You're still riding him slowly, overstimulation coursing through your body but unable to stop; addicted to the way Gekko's cock feels inside you.
Once you're full of his cum and Gekko begs you to stop with a quivering voice, too sensitive he might start crying, is when you decide to lean in and unbind the rope that you tied him with, dick slipping out of your pussy with a lewd sound.
When he is finally free, Gekko's arms round your torso and gently turn the tables, laying you down on the mattress while he hovers over you with his face flushed and an enamored expression.
He seems tired, if not a little exhausted physically and mentally, but he makes sure none of it gets in his way to lean down and lock your lips in a soft kiss.
The feeling of his sweaty and naked body on top of yours, caging you and hands caressing your sides gently, as if you were the one who needed comfort, makes your heart throb with warmness and aching for his attention.
Gekko deepens the kiss, mouths slothing together and sliding one against the other sensually in this dance of passion. He sticks his tongue on your mouth, toying with yours and mapping out every crevice for him to remember; he cannot help but groan with excitement when your hands hold him around his shoulder and you scratch the back of his hair softly.
When air gets necessary, Gekko takes his distance, panting heavily and adoration swimming in his eyes while watching you.
“Are you okay?” you ask, thumb running on his lower lip.
Gekko nods, “Just sore,” he replies. His voice sounds a little hoarse, “I loved it.”
You smile, Gekko swoons.
“How about you?” he asks, a little nervous. “Did…did you like it?”
Humming, you nod, looking deeply into his eyes. Gekko's breath gets caught on his throat when you lean in and kiss his lips softly.
“You were amazing,” kissing him again, you sigh into his mouth before laying down onto the mattress. “I enjoyed it.”
Deep into the night, Gekko watches you fall asleep rather quickly.
Despite you taking control over him and the sex, you seeked shelter and comfort in him when it was over; it was cute. Your head was snuggled under his chin and right above his heart, sleeping peacefully and clinging to him—it makes his heart race with excitement.
He was holding onto you quite tightly, one hand soothingly running over your back and the other holding your hand laying on his chest.
There is silence, but he doesn't find it haunting like usual.
No nightmares, no headaches, just blissful peace and a hammering heart inside his ribcage; emotions swelling up and excitement coursing through his veins. The image of your face is enough to keep the thoughts at bay, smitten to the point he doesn't really want to think about anything else but what has transpired this night.
You snuggle up closer, hugging him tightly, and keep on sleeping.
Gekko sighs dreamily, squeezing your hand.
He won't think about tomorrow nor how this will affect the professional aspect of your relationship. He will indulge in this moment for as long as he can, even if it breaks his heart by the end of all.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
You wake up alone and cold on the bed the next morning.
The covers are hiding your naked body, tucked away gently by your companion, but no signs of him in the near vicinity. When you look around the room, you find there are only your clothes thrown over the floor and your shades safely laying on top of your desk where you left it last night.
“Mateo?” you call out. Sitting on the bed, you try once again, “Gekko?”
No one answers.
Sighing to yourself, you stand from the bed to pick up the mess and, on the way, your sorrow for the outcome of the situation.
Is not like it was unexpected, this scenario has been presented to you every now and then before the protocol, but to think it would happen with Gekko is a disappointment to say the least.
Hurtful, if you may, after being blinded by Cypher's words of the sudden interest he might have had on you and you for believing it.
You fancy him now, and it is all Cypher's fault.
You take a shower, you dress up with your usual fit, and in less than fifteen minutes you're out of your bedroom with your shades on and a façade to protect your feelings if you were to cross paths with Gekko.
Thankfully, today’s schedule seems to be packed with a long mission and perhaps a couple days away on Pearl until you return with your assigned team and a secured spike for Killjoy to analyze.
Brimstone hasn't told you the details yet, and you don't think he will say anything else until the team is assembled and ready to go. You still have a couple of hours to prepare before setting off, and having the social battery low and with the intention to not cross paths with Gekko anytime soon, you decide to waste your time seeking the culprit of your demise at the only place you could think of.
Cypher is tinkering with his tech at Killjoy's lab, humming to himself a tune you're familiar with and ready to kick his chair off before he realizes you’re there.
You nod at Chamber who is sitting at the far back fixing one of his weapons, cringing slightly when he calls out your name and smiles…weirdly at you. You ignore him.
“So you've come to me,” he says without looking at you. You're upset you won't be able to catch him off guard. “What now, the sex wasn't good?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Cracking your knuckles, you still kick his chair in an attempt to make him pay attention to you. You hear him sigh, leaving his tool at the table and crossing his arms to look at you.
“Yes?” he asks.
“You were wrong.” Sitting across from him, you slump on the table and frown. You take off your shades to appear more intimidating but the other doesn’t seem to care much, “We had sex, but he is not in love with me.”
Shrugging, he goes back to his work. “If you believe so, then who am I to contradict you?”
“You were so convinced he loved me that I went to confront him about it.” Cypher sees you pout, which he finds funny, “Well, sort of. He never said he didn't love me, but he never mentioned anything about liking me either.”
“You understand what you're telling me is a conversation you could easily have with him to clear your doubts, am I right?” Cypher finishes with his tripwires and tosses them to the side. “Why come crying here, then? There is something else that is bothering you and that's why you're here.”
“I'm—I don't know?” Cypher cocks his head to the side, you know he is having fun watching you lose your mind over something so simple. “I was never interested in these…kinds of topics. God, I never thought I’d be involved with anyone here at the protocol to begin with, let alone have sex with them and develop an attachment from just one night.”
“Is it really that?” he asks, “Love at first sight is unlikely to be your situation, but love when having sex for the first time? Was his dick really that good? Should I ask for a try myself?”
Scrubbing your face with your hands, you sigh in frustration, “Cypher, don't be a moron now, please.”
He chuckles, raising his arms in surrender, “Listen, before our talk, it would have never crossed your mind to be interested in the kid as much as you do now. What changed? For starters, you don’t love him, do you?”
“I don’t.” is your reply, and you’re certain of it.
“You're interested in him now, aren’t you?”
You nod, “I find him attractive, he’s sweet, and you for certain should get a piece of that ass.”
“Oh? Charitable now, aren’t we? Maybe I will.”
“Don’t be stupid, I was kidding.”
“Dear, we’re diverting from the main problem here.” Cypher stores his tech onto a box and motions you to follow after him. “Shall we continue somewhere else?”
Standing up, you both follow the path from the lab to his room.
Only the echo of your steps alongside his are enough to fill in the silence, a little uncomfortable of continuing this conversation and to where it might lead. Despite this being your idea to sort out your thoughts more easily and have Cypher as your middle ground, you fear that this…one time thing with Gekko might have messed you up more than you intended to.
Cypher pats your back, “I can see you thinking way too hard, relax.”
“I don’t think I want to know what will happen with Gekko now.” You admit, sighing tiredly. “I’m getting overwhelmed by this situation when there is supposed to be no feelings involved.”
“Was that established before you had sex or after?”
“What do you mean by established?”
“Did you talk about your non-romantic feelings or what you expected from him before the sex?”
Mulling over his question, you realize that no, you never conversed nor set boundaries before it happened.
You were so desperate to get answers from him in any way, or any form, that your actions were faster than waiting to coax sentences from him.
“Aren't you a grown woman?” Cypher mocks, “You aren't a ten years old with a crush in middle school.”
“I don't have a crush on him.”
“I don't believe you, and you don't believe yourself either.”
“You're always so cryptic with your words, god, just tell me what you really think.”
Cypher sighs loudly, watching you from the corner of his eyes and observing your hands fidget while thinking. He takes pity, it must be hard for you to not have this under control and be stranded on unknown territory when it comes to emotions.
“Dear, I believe you've contradicted yourself many times today.” he begins, and you seem ready to argue back but he raises a hand to stop you, “You came to me crying about how I tricked you into thinking Gekko is interested in you, which I stand by, and then you are saying feelings weren't supposed to be involved.”
You shrug.
“What is it, then?” He asks, “Pursue the kid, or simply treat it like a one-night stand. What do you want?”
“I don't know, Cy, I don't know what to do.”
“You confronted Gekko last night because you had the upper hand. He likes you, and you know that. If anything were to go wrong, you would not be hurt by the end of it because he was unaware of what you felt for him, that's why you looked for him. There were going to be no consequences.”
“Shut up…”
“But now the roles have been reversed because you agreed to share an intimate moment with him. And now your feelings are being jeopardized because you think he is the one who played you and don't know how to feel about someone taking control over this matter.” Huffing in amusement, Cypher nods to himself. “I think I got a pretty good read on you.”
And he does. Despite not giving in and accepting it out loud, you are, to a fault, very controlling when it comes to aspects of your life.
This is why last night's dynamic worked really well with Gekko, because he lets himself be taken by you and follows your orders without hesitation,—and you loved it, you enjoyed being with him, and you think you've shared such intimacy that seeing him now will probably break you down.
“You're overthinking.”
You give a dry laugh, “Can't help it.”
“Give the kid some credit, talk to him.”
You walk past the common room in silence when he hears talking and arguing, slowing down in step when Gekko comes into vision while he talks with his fellow teammates.
The good thing about this hallway is the clear glasses for windows they've installed, giving you both a full picture of what might be happening inside the room without being too nosy.
As soon as you spot Gekko amongst the people inside, your pace accelerates, pulling Cypher by his jacket and janking him to your side to cover yourself from their sights.
Your heart is pounding, your hands are getting clammy, and the nervousness of being seen by Gekko after what happened and after he left without saying a word is enough to reduce you into a shy mess.
Killjoy's voice echoes in the hallway, pulling your attention and Cypher's towards her person who comes running to you with a bright smile on her face and a binder on hand, and completely ruins your attempt to escape.
You're happy to see her, but dread it when the noise inside the common room comes to a sudden stop.
“Brimstone is calling for a meeting! There has been a shutdown of our network so our devices aren't working until I reboot it. For now, I'm just a messenger.” Killjoy breathes out tiredly, turning to the windows and waving at the people inside. “You too, Gekko! You have ten minutes!”
With that, Killjoy leaves.
Whether Gekko was looking at you or not, you decide is not of your concern and drag Cypher away with you to the meeting room. The poor man yells in protest, but the hold on his arm doesn't waver, too determined to have him as your anchor.
Back in the common room, Gekko watches you walk away without any sign of acknowledgment and, deeply, is hurt by such a reaction from your person.
By now, he believed the breach that separated you two was shortened the moment you saved his life back at Icebox, sacrificing everything to bring him back home and probably part of your life as well.
When you kissed him, Gekko assured himself this is it. This was the act that settled everything and put his mind at rest, giving you who he is and more, unveiling a side of him he was too ashamed to admit or rather, didn’t know he had it in him.
Perhaps that was his mistake, assuming things would fall into place and Gekko will finally be able to express how much he fancies you without hurting himself in the process.
One night stand, he thinks grimly.
Shouldn't have let his hopes up.
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Brimstone seems distressed, eye bags under his eyes and beard not trimmed to his usual style. His armor is off and so is his cute little red hat, giving him a look of wearing more years than he actually is.
You worry for him, but for the sake of the meeting and to not look like a mother hen, you hold back the need to reprimand him for the poor care he has taken of himself.
That, and Brimstone seems to be a good distraction so your eyes won't wander to where Gekko is currently sitting at.
“Is a week-long mission,” he begins. When no one says anything, he continues. “Killjoy has detected new waves of radianite from Pearl, is getting stronger the longer we talk and the Omega agents are already on its way.”
“Do we have supplies to survive a week on Pearl?” you ask. Brimstone grimaces at your question.
“Barely, and we will be scraping by.” Sighing, he checks a couple of papers on the table and presses a button on the side. The screen on the table lights up with a version of Pearl in 3D, A site and B site lighting up in red. “Beyond having provisions to feed us and weapons to protect us, what is playing against us is the rotations they’re going to be doing.”
Omen leans in, “Rotations to sites?”
“No, team rotations.”
Leaning forward, Jett cocks her head to the side, “What do you mean by team rotations?”
“They are bringing more than five people, but not all of them are allowed inside the place or else Kingdom will be on our asses.” The map rotates, and Brimstone signals the Omega's landing site with his pen. “There is a limit to where radiants can wander together without being detected nor looking suspicious. If Kingdom is able to track us down because of the strong centered vitals of radiants, we are all screwed.”
“And it doesn’t benefit them at all.” Omen finishes. Brimstone nods.
“Why don't we do the same thing?” Jett suggests. “Have our pals waiting on the sidelines if things seem to go grim?”
“We're sending teams to different missions, because Pearl is not the only place where radianite has been active and stronger.”
“But you said—”
Brimstone raises a hand, cutting her off. “Your only concern should be Pearl, these other places are for the rest of your teammates to worry about, so focus on what your task is.”
She nods reluctantly, “Of course Brim."
“Is going to be tiring, we will have to be 24/7 in alert and awake to any attempt of attacks.”
You tap onto the table, “This is what I don’t understand, if we’re being sent like the usual missions and we’re supposed to endure seven days of non-stop vigilance, how are they going to be able to attack different places if they are also limited in agents like we do? It doesn’t make sense.”
Brimstone watches as your question raises awareness throughout the agents in the room, the big incognita being: Is Pearl going to be under attack?
“Bind, Fracture, Lotus and Pearl.” The image of Pearl changes, reducing in size to let the mentioned places appear on sight. “We don’t know which one they are going to attack, that's why we are sending you all today to start protecting them.”
“It’s a gamble.” Omen points out.
Jett chimes in, “What if we retrieve the spike from them earlier than intended?”
“That's why it is a week-long mission. They won't stop until the radianite is stolen so replacements for the spike will be plenty,” Tapping the side of the table, the imagery turns off, “The radianite will keep increasing in radius power until it goes dormant again, that's why we need to stay for longer.”
“Will we be able to rest through the mission?” Gekko inquiries. “We can't defend the sites if we're sleep deprived.”
“You can rest between hours and in turns, but only one person per three hours.”
“Sentinels should be awake throughout the night to cover more space if you will be missing one man in combat.” Cypher comments, “They should be the first ones to rest once the first hours of combat are over.”
“That's righ—, Cypher? You are not supposed to be here.” Brimstone takes a double take on his files, and sure enough, he wasn't assigned for Pearl, rather Bind. “We will still have a meeting in an hour, please, I'll have to ask you to leave.”
“Oh, Brim, how can you ask me to leave my beautiful duo? Separating us is just beyond cruel.” Cypher, in an attempt to piss off Gekko, lays his hand above yours on the table, and squeezes it softly. “Say, I can swap places with Killjoy if she wants. I bet Raze would be more than happy to be together on Bind.”
Gekko does seem a little confused at his actions and, mostly, pissed off, a scowl on his mouth and glaring at where Cypher is touching you. But of course, you don't see any of this, too irritated by his attitude to truly pay attention to your surroundings.
Brimstone shakes his head, tired and frustrated by his insubordination. Waving his hand away, he dismisses the meeting.
“The jet is ready, go grab weapons, clothes and stuff you might need and are only necessary. Omen, please meet up with Sage before you set off with the rest of your team.”
“Understood.” the wraith replies.
“Cypher.”
“Yes?”
“You're still assigned to Bind. I don't need you to start switching places just because you feel like it.”
Your friend shrugs, whispering a soft 'I tried.' He is very lucky your stare can't kill, or else he would have been pulverized by now.
The agents leave the meeting room one by one, mulling to themselves whatever they might need and simply too absorbed in their thoughts.
You stand alongside Cypher, ready to reprimand him for saying stupid shit but a hand on your wrist stops you dead in your tracks, turning to see Gekko holding you gently and with a nervous expression on his face.
“Hey.” he says, eyes crinkling on the sides when he smiles at you. “Got a minute to talk?”
Words get stuck in your throat, unable to open your mouth and reply like a normal human being, but try to act as calm as possible to not let him know how dreadful this greeting is starting to feel.
“Sorry, friend, she's mine until you leave.” Cypher takes your arm and gently tugs you away. Gekko's hand falls to his side clenching on a fist, and an unreadable expression paints his features until you are out of vision.
But by the time you decide to say anything, your friend has already pulled you far away and tucked you safely into his room instead.
“Dear, look at me.” Cypher takes the time to leave your shades above your head, thumb caressing your chin until you look into his light blue orbs. Despite being masked, you can see the outlines of a smile. “Are you okay about this?”
“I can’t really say no to Brimstone.” You reply. “Maybe I should forget about last night and pretend nothing happened, for the sake of our team."
“If that's the case, you need to speak to him either way,” Looking at the clock, he sighs. “Don't give him hopes, and don't ruin a working relationship with someone who is going to be stuck with us for the years to come. Is not…convenient.”
“I think it’s already too late for that advice.”
He chuckles, “Better clear things up now than later.”
Rolling your eyes, you nod.
A week to think, despite having him there. A week to figure out if you want to pursue love, even when vulnerable.
A week.
“You have to leave, Brimstone is already pissed at me, I don't want to give him another reason to smite me.”
Laughing, you bump his shoulders with yours. “Sure he will.”
—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—
Taking your device might not be a necessity, even less now that the network is being rebooted and no one knows when it will start working again.
Besides that, you change into comfortable clothes and bring a jacket for the cold nights. You're assuming the times you rest might be inside the jet on your landing site, and that vehicle is the worst place to sleep on, let alone warm enough to sleep comfortably.
Sighing tiredly, you survey your room and decide that's all you're gonna need for now. Food, toiletries and that kind of stuff might not be necessary for you to take, you suppose they have that covered, so with nothing else to take into account, you leave.
On your way to the landing site, Cypher joins in your walk, toying with a tripwire and simply accompanying you in silence.
When you raise your brow, curious about his presence here instead of the reunion Brimstone wanted him in, he shrugs nonchalant, feigning confusion.
“Must have forgotten,” is what he replies. “Besides, I already know what this is about. Having to listen to the same thing twice? Not thanks.”
“Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
Once the jet is visible, you have to breathe in slowly to calm down your nerves.
Cypher's presence is comforting, but not enough to ignore Gekko's person standing next to the weapon storage, cleaning the barrel of his pistol.
He hasn't seen you yet, and is a miracle none of his creatures are out and about to cheer up the mood before you're set to go on the longest mission ever.
“Your gun is already on the jet.” Cypher comments. “I left a little gift for you, too, hope it helps.”
Huffing a laugh, you nod, “Thank you, Cy.”
“Don't, this is what friends are for, yes?” Cypher doesn't wait for an answer before closing the distance, looking down at you because of the size difference and puffing out his chest in pride. He looks ridiculous.
“What is it?” You ask, concerned.
“Do you trust me?” he whispers, holding one of your hands. His robotic blue eyes look deeply into yours, and you don't know where this is coming from, but you nod as an answer.
Cypher gently guides you against his body, one arm circling around your waist, taking his hat with the other to rest his masked forehead against yours. You lean against him, hands holding onto his jacket and smiling softly.
He holds you like this for a couple of seconds, the longest in your life when you cannot help but feel comfortable enough to be sharing such closeness with who you consider your best friend.
“Gekko is watching,” he says, and you feel nervousness rush over your body at the statement. “Keep up the act, and then go straight to the jet, alright? Don’t look at him, just me.”
“Okay.”
When you part ways, he makes a motion of kissing your hand, and you snort, flipping his hat when he puts it back.
“You dork.”
“Always the gentleman.” he replies.
You bid him goodbye and do as you're told, going straight to the stairs leading you to the entrance of the jet and barely looking at Gekko's direction to avoid his pointed stare.
Cypher stays in place, watching the other agents follow after you when they're done preparing their weapons and are ready to set off.
Gekko stays behind, still frozen in place and glaring at Cypher with an unknown emotion swimming in his eyes. When the sentinel nods in his direction, saluting him in what could be considered as mocking, Gekko can't help the sudden anger that flows through his veins and flips him off, turning around and jogging to the jet without looking back.
Chuckling, Cypher leaves, listening to the engines of the vehicle turn on and barely glancing behind to see it take off.
His job is done, now it is up to Gekko to amend things with you if he's brave enough or else, accept his fate as it is and lose you forever.
It was never in his plan to take his act further than to piss him off, he fears he might have given the wrong idea instead of pushing Gekko to his limits so he can act upon his wishes.
In a week he will have his answer.
In love and war, anything is valid.
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As I’ve said before, the Fizz episode is the only episode of the entire second season that I’m interested in, and it’ll be like a big bang to me, cause I CANNOT wait to see how they fuck it up. It’s going to be a train wreck and I’m here for it, I have so many predictions, so here’s a list of them!
— I always referred to it as the “Fizz and Ozzie episode” but I feel like most of it will be about Fizz and Blitz and their backstory, judging by the trailer shot of them as little kids again and the one where Fizz is seemingly singing to Blitz but then drops him. Also bc Blitz always needs to be in every single damn episode and Viv refuses to show someone else’s perspective lol.
— It would be nice if we dove into how Fizz met Ozzie, how he took him in and how they started to perform/date, but I honestly don’t think we’ll see much of that, and for all we know, the shots of Fizz performing could be in modern time instead of a flashback. Judging by the two shots of Fizz and Blitz fighting that was at that panel, this episode is definitely more about them then his relationship with Ozzie tho.
— I have the feeling that the “Hell finding out Ozzie is a hypocrite and dating Fizz” conflict probably won’t be resolved, I mean look at Ozzie’s for Blitz and Stolas lol. It either won’t be resolved and the episode will be unfocused, or resolve it too fast and in a forced/underwhelming way. I highly doubt it’ll be a huge conflict anyway since Viv never really dives into the class system in the first place.
— Fizz and Blitz will either patch up things up immediately at the end of the episode, or not so Viv can use the characters/conflicts for another future episode that obviously won’t be planned. I already know they’re going to paint Blitz out to be this guy who’s sweet and deep down wants to make amends with Fizz so I won’t waste my anger for that, (how much you want to bet Blitz being responsible for Fizz’s body was an accident and he never meant for it to happen so the fans can say he’s an uwu baby who must be protected) but if Fizz actually ends up forgiving Blitz at the end of this episode (especially if it turns out he’s responsible for Fizz’s missing his arms and legs) I’ll be pissed because even if Fizz DOES end up forgiving Blitz, doing it at the end of this episode would feel too fast and forced. I don’t want this to be Loo Loo Land again lol.
— Stolas may or may not appear in this episode to do the crystal deal. Ofc it would be WAY too much to cram in for an episode that already seems to have a lot in it, but they might do it. I will be honest, I 100% doubt the “Stolas making a deal with Ozzie to give Blitz a crystal” plotline will actually go anywhere tho. Knowing that this season clearly wasn’t planned and that Viv is making stuff up/pulling things out of her ass, this probably won’t go anywhere since Stolas later in the season is clearly going to be taken in by Imp anyway, and we gatta push him and Blitz being together regardless of they’re doing the book deal or not. Anyway that shot of him sitting in a room and the clock ticking could be from another episode, but of we do get Stolitz content here, who knows, maybe Blitz will see how healthy Fizz and Asmodeous are and want that with Stolas.
— Knowing that Fizz is one of Viv’s favorites, I wouldn’t be surprised if this episode DOES jab at Blitz more and really show how hurt Fizz was by him. Like I said tho, they might patch things up quickly. Either way, gatta love how she clearly plans to show how negatively Fizz was affected by Blitz but can’t do the same with Octavia, Verosika or Barbie since they’re females and boring to her.
— If this episode has another pointless M&M B-plot like Loo Loo Land, Seeing Stars, or Western Energy did, I swear.
And that’s pretty much it. We can all predict that Blitz burned Fizz somehow, there’s not much to say other than it’s ganna show how they used to be friends and make a soap opera about how bad Blitz feels so.
#vivziepop critical#spindlehorse critical#helluva boss critical#helluva boss critique#helluva boss criticism#helluva critical#anti vivziepop#helluva boss
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TW - just a vent about fandom stuff.
I feel kinda sad about how some creators in the CoD fandom have now abandoned creating content for the game series due to the demanding nature of other fans who used to consume their content. (fics, art, etc)
Like, these artists/writers in the fandom write fanfics/create art, FOR FREE OF COST and dedicate SO MUCH TIME AND ENERGY to their craft despite not getting much in return, only to deal with senseless hate, ignorance, stupidity and get treated as content generation machines; instead of actual human beings with jobs and studies and friends and families that need their time and attention as well.
A lot of us folks who write or draw do this as a hobby. As an outlet for our creativity, and we find this community for the media we are currently fixated on and we create things inspired by it cuz it brings us joy. IT MAKES US HAPPY SO WE CREATE CONTENT FOR IT!!! And then to see the same fandom/community and their horrendous behaviour driving away the creators from the fandom and the media itself is just....sad. Very disheartening.
Like I miss so many of the creators who have just given up on CoD cuz of this issue. Their works have inspired me to start writing again. They make me wish I start learning how to draw and paint again too. Their works have touch my soul, and made me happy - gave me something to look forward to every day.
But I'd much rather they leave the fandom and take care of themselves and their life, than to succumb to this weird pressure fans and fan-content consumers put on them, y'know?
Plus recently, I've seen a lot of racist and stereotypical prejudices from some CoD fans (and even some creators). I know a lot of them are new to the fandom, I was too. But I took an active effort to learn more about this game series. (and it's an ongoing effort cuz I cannot afford to play the games so I have to settle for wiki articles, gameplays, and comics) And I see so many fans not give a shit about it. They treat these characters as blank canvases to fulfill their hypersexual fantasies. (I like me a good smut fic or two, don't get me wrong) But that just makes it impossible for newer fans to get to know more about the lore and the characters. I had just finished watching the campaign for MW, and let me tell you, there are so many complex missions, characters and storylines to explore and depict through fanfics, and it's insane so many people disregard it for their whimsies so easily. That will just stunt your growth as an artist/writer! Read up on the lore, watch the game plays(the OGs and the remakes!) , maybe even read the comics!!! I promise you won't regret it ever!!!
Also, please! For all that is holy, stop putting these complex fictional characters into restricted boxes and label them. That just makes them so one-dimensional. Like -
Soap is not always cheery and bubbly and your fellow bestie. Simon is not an abuser/emotionally dead asshole just because he has a hard time expressing his emotions like everyone else. König, despite the lack of storyline/lore we have on him, isn't an uwu social anxiety babygirl, damn it. Stop excluding Gaz from your HCs and fics! He's a complex man with so many interesting things to explore about his overall story and psyche as a part of 141. He's not always begging for Price's approval either, he can and has objected to how questionable their methods have been regarding their field/work. Stop excluding Gaz from 141 stuff! It makes you look like a POS, and a lot of the people who exclude him are doing so for....pretty racist reasons. As a POC, this shit sucks balls. Also stop stereotyping POC characters in CoD - Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria, Gaz, Farah....just stop. Their ethnicity or race should not deter you from writing about them in a way that doesn't come across as prejudiced and ill-informed.
Also, not necessarily a rant, but please consider/remember the fact that the military has always been a bit of a morally dubious field of work irl, and just cuz CoD is military-centric and features characters who work in the army or PMC and take out bad guys - that doesn't take away from the violent history military has and how they have contributed to the deterioration of many countries (mainly in the Middle East). Heck, even these characters in the CoD games have done extremely unethical things and employed treacherous methods in order to get the job done. These characters may be good people in fiction, but that doesn't mean that they have done great things or have always stayed morally pure. Explore the dubious nature of it all - explore how dark and harrowing it can be for them and for the people that unwittingly or knowingly get involved in their work. It's dark and twisted but it's crucial since it's inspired from our world and it's necessary for us as humans and as artists to explore such themes and analyse them! It's crucial for the soul!!!
#call of duty#cod:mw2#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#captain john price#simon ghost riley#alex keller#farah karim#cod#alejandro vargas#valeria garza#rudolfo parra#fandom#tw vent#celena.rambles
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NSFW Xanxus with s/o? 👀
Xanxus NSFW Headcanons
Warnings: seks and swearing; fem!reader; huge OOC; 100% wrong grammar, english still is not my native (it will be one day is this how it works idk); no beta we die like tyl tsuna
Note: tbh, this is really short since I'm still holding back my filthiest thoughts?? The add-on section with sub Xus can be NOT considered serious but those make me raaaaaaaaaawrrr aooga
• Fucking horndog end of the story leave lieks uwu
• No really, he riles up in a second and in the most inconvenient situations. And if you don’t give him what he wants, Xanxus will be very broody for the whole day. Good luck, you will need one ngl
• Xanxus obviously likes (LOOVES) seeing you in revealing tight clothes, this bitch will drop stuff on purpose just to see your bottom if you're wearing a short skirt that day. He will not hide it, man will just be sitting with the nastiest smile, and you know you have to get that thing up since he won’t
• More of a thighs and ass type tbh. Any breast is good if he can see a nice cleavage.
• I really imagine Xanxus as a big juicy man despite Amano’a art style. His thighs worth dying between, his tiddies look heavy I can hold them bb. And I think he also enjoyed someone not really slim? He loves something to GRAB
• Not even in a sexual way. He will always grab your ass even around people and he can't even give you a coherent answer why. He just stares zero brain head empty - he can't admit out loud he loves your body, what a loser
• HUGE size kink. The nastiest, craziest size kink, he is going to be feral with a small s/o like he really means to snap them in half
• Also has a big dick, so……..can’t complain
• Choke him. Never in your life you can even choke him a little bit, but Xanxus appreciates the effort. Your both fragile feminine hands cannot do anything against him and even grab his neck fully, and that feeling of power over you gets him going.
• Then you feel his hot touch around your throat. He is going to show you how it is done
• Enjoys the fight. Someone too obedient is not his type at all, he gets bored quickly, he loves his girlie to has temperament. Scratch him, grab him, bite him and never hold back. Xanxus enjoys smell of blood, seeing your marks all over him after
• Touch. His. Scars. I’m sorry for involving feelings, but he will like it
• You can never dumbfound him with love-bombing btw. Unlike SOMEONE ahemsqualoahem
“I-i love you”
“Yeah, who doesn’t”
But he still thinks that’s lame and kills the mood
• Yes to power play but GOD FUCK NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET THE FUCK OUT YOU FREAK to Daddy kink. He has too much going on with parents and has big issues, especially with fathers. But props to being the first person Xanxus calls a freak
• Get on your knees for him and he’s so WEAK
• Speaking of weak. Xanxus thinks too much with his dick, and you won’t have much problem convincing him about something through a good blowjob (or sex in general). He knows your trick but doesn’t mind, since he’s had a good time, nay? Though sometimes he’ll fuck around and just go away “well, bye now”
• Corruption kink and no one will convince me otherwise. Having a confident skilled woman is good. But how about the most stoic, morally right woman turned into the filthiest nastiest whore just for him? Bonus point if she's a virgin, something clicking in his head. Xanxus enjoys the fact he's one and only or at least, if you break up, he's still your first and no other man will satisfy you she same way (those are his words, not mine)
• Such a dirty talker. But usually Xanxus tries to get an answer from you and just laughs and your fucked-out pathetic state. He won't stop until your eyes are glossy and absolutely empty, his dick is the only thing on your mind.
• Xanxus is shameless but still gets really angry when you two get caught. HOT TAKE. It's not about him btw, he doesn't give a shit about being seen with some one-night-stand but YOU as his partner are different. He wants people hear you and know how good he's making you feel, he wants then to see how hot, awesome, smart, pretty, confident you are BUT! Xanxus is the only one who sees you in the nastiest, most vulnerable state.
• Hot take again - he's not against eating you out. First - being between juicy thick thighs worth dying for, second - he again turns it into a dominating moment, where HE decides if you're having an orgasm.
Secret-secret headcanons I myself BELIEVE
• Sit on his face. Xanxus will act like a bitch but in the end you will notice he likes it WAY too much and even has some shade of pink on his cheeks
• Just try to dominate him in general. Use the same dirty words he uses for you, don't be scared to insult him. You both are too fucked up and horny at this moment anyways, Xanxus' brain won't even comprehend what you are telling him and that actually he's supposed to get angry
• Xanxus didn't know this is his kink - a beast being tamed, huh?
• After the first time this idiot didn't even talk to you, trying to process what the hell happened. But seeing you the same as always, still treating him as a big smart boss, and that's what everyone believes, makes him hard instantly.
• Xanxus doesn't like sex toys at all (he can make you see stars without any help) but JUST MAYBE that's the first time you get whips? Question mark?
• Nah, he won't just become suddenly submissive, that's not the point. He will insult you, bite you, scratch, choke you, fight against you. If you can't handle him, you don't deserve him in this state, okay?
#khr headcanons#khr imagines#khr x reader#varia x reader#xanxus x reader#xanxus headcanons#xanxus imagines#xanxus smut#khr smut
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I beg ya tell me about your OC Yonal and Snape, I need to know about them.
omg,, my heart is so full rn qwq i didn't really expect anyone would be interested in them so idk where to start DFHFDHJ
Yonal isn't fully fleshed-out yet but I made a post sometime ago about them to kickstart their story and a snippet of their friendship with Snape but I'd like to add a few new info for their lore (I did mention that I'd delve deeper into their friendship) so buckle up!
(I am not well-versed with words so lmk if you'd like me to clarify something! ><)
Their friendship is something these two weren't expecting at all tbh and the fact that they managed to build such a strong foundation is somewhat peculiar to me, in a way that they have the most contrasting personalities that it even clashes from time to time but still having that "homey", cozy feeling about it. Yonal being carefree and chaotic, the type to just "go-with-the-flow", and thinks that the glass is half-full while Severus is completely on the other side of the spectrum, with him looking at everything realistically and pessimistically at the same time. I could describe their relationship as:
Sun and Moon
Yin and Yang
Achilles and Patroclus
Red String of Fate
There's more but they're basically rocking that "opposites attract" typa energy HAHAHA
Yonal is most of the time, if not, completely, unaffected by Severus' attitude but rather he (Yonal goes by he/they!) chooses to respect and understand why Severus is like that and would even offer insight in which Sev would always be taken aback. (Not saying Linx is a dunderhead but he can be quite clueless LOL) I like to think Severus learns to accept Yonal the way he is and even appreciate it (He wouldn't outright admit it tho)
There's a lot of things Yonal and Severus don't particularly agree in but there are a few that allows them to connect with each other like the thirst for knowledge, great interest for the Wizarding World, socks, dead-beat dads, loneliness, and other things that I cannot think at the top of my head rn hehe
Idk if I've mentioned this already but even though Yonal loves being an absolute headache to Severus, he deeply respects that raven-haired mf and wouldn't dare ruin their deeply-rooted friendship in any way. I explained in this post how he's willing to bend his habits for him and it is still true to this day!
What fascinates me about them is that they definitely keep each other grounded in a sense that they have that ability to calm each other's turbulent souls, which opens to a lot of vulnerable moments. Something that both of them don't really allow themselves to be in. I like to think they'd grow closer as they confide with one another. Sometimes, home is a person.
Back in the day, they had underlying feelings with each other but these two dumb mfs didn't want to poke and probe in fear that it might end the bond that they have so they set these emotions aside but it does slip out sometimes teehee! In present times, the old flame ignited on its own and over the course of the time they have together, I think it's safe to say that they'll eventually finally confront these feelings and get it over with. But for now, I'm evil and love to hurt myself so im subjecting them to a slow-burn love (angst included!) <333
There's much more that I want to spew but I think that would be for another time. Honestly, I just want Snape to be happy bc God forbids he have peace in his depressing life
As a treat, here's a silly one I made uwu
#asks#just two lonely people#severus snape#yonal linx#words are not enough to fully express my strong feelings about them therefore i shall draw many more pieces of the two blorbos!#i should give them a ship name lmao#sninx? yonerus? thonking vv much#young snape#dinxdraws#hope this answers you and im sorry that it's hella long qwq
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I find it kinda sad how some of the fandom will characterize Silver as all "Whiney" and "annoying" because he was implied to cry once and she'd the slightest amount of tears in the comics (old comics) and it's just sad bc silver has so much more character then that. I think that's why I like your writing so much, because you give him more then just dorky kid and whiney child guy y'know? (Sorry if that got a bit rambling and stuff lol)
I figure that ties in into the massive mischaracterisation Silver suffers from basically all sides of his character, but where his 'babyfication' runs most rampant, in my personal opinion. Furthermore, for me him seemingly crying at the end of his storymode in '06 nicely ties into that overall plot point of the game, and makes for something meaningful and interesting to analyse. The whole idea is that the person containing Iblis may never cry, lest their tears call forth his flames. Silver never cries in the game no matter how frustrated he gets with his never-ending battle against Iblis or when he loses Amy as a friend or when Elise dies.... but then he loses Blaze, the one person he thought would always be with him and who he would never want to take on the burden he was going to inflict on himself, and that is what makes him cry. I cannot put exactly into words why I find it so meaningful, but I feel that they wouldn't have put in the sight of him wiping at his eyes for no reason considering how much crying played a central role in the game. And as for the The Silver Saga issue where he cries too, his friends were basically dying because at that moment he wasn't strong enough to defeat the Second Devourer. I can forgive him crying then, since he gets a second wind moments after.
So yeah, people seem to cherry-pick only certain moments that display Silver's personality, and then use that to determine that the whole of his character is like that. Silver is far more multifaceted than either an innocent naive uwu baby or a brooding murder machine; he's got touches of both, but that both is very important. Not one or the other, just... Silver, basically. Polite and friendly to the people close to him, a heart of gold, self-sacrificial, and with the best intentions for the world, but brusque and rude while on a mission, smug and overconfident, absolutely ruthless when he feels it is necessary even in situations where cooperation and just talking would get him to his goal much faster, displaying the occasional black-and-white thinking and tunnel vision, and not allowing himself much time for sad emotions. And yet in the Rivals games, he can absolutely be polite, tries to indicate to the other characters what might be going on, and multiple times calls to talk to "Eggman" first before getting roped into a fight anyway. So generally he's not baby who bursts into tears if you look at him funny and would never ever hurt a fly (seriously, I really wonder how the heck people get that perception of him?? The things I see sometimes are mind-blowing in how bafflingly ooc they are), nor is he excessively violent, unreasonable, and brooding (traits I would say are much more ascribable to a character like Shadow or Metal Sonic). What traits he displays most seem highly dependent on the state of the world and whether or not he is on a mission and has support from his friends.
Though, what I furthermore thinks also leads to people finding Silver more whiny is the fact that he got quite a young, inexperienced voice from Pete Capella. Quinton Flynn does it a bit better imo (he's my favourite Silver voice actor), but Bryce Papenbrook goes right back and makes him sound younger and a lot more cocky (to the point where in TSR I occasionally felt like I was listening to an even cockier Sonic than to Silver). But if you asked someone to listen to all three of those and then to Daisuke Ono, I think no-one will be able to tell the Japanese voice is for the same character, haha! In Japanese Silver's got very deep, serious voice whereas in English he sounded/sounds far more childish and rude, and that might also contribute to the perception of him being annoying and childish and ✨uwu cinnamon roll✨. So yeah, overall Silver suffers from massive ooc-ness and mischaracterisation, and it, well, sucks. It doesn't help that he was basically HATED during his first five years of existence until Generations salvaged his boss battle. I do not think it is a bad time to be a Silver fan, people seem to like him a lot more these days, but I do wish they'd take a less flanderised view of him sometimes, haha!
#thank you for the compliments about my writing btw💕 I personally think my Silver is also not fully OOC? He's more baby in NB for example#though in Genesis he's more his on-a-mission gruff and unsociable self most of the time#silver the hedgehog#sonic character analysis#?#it also does not help that media like the comics also paint him VERY unfavourably at times (especially Archie had it out for him)#most of the time IDW is better about it luckily#this also turned somewhat rambly but I had fun thinking it all over! ^-^
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personally bothers me when ppl are like uwu Iago is gay for othello and completely ignore his racism let alone the racism throughout the play
lmao thank u for stopping by to talk old books with me :3c
but tbh thank god i’ve never seen this take in the wild because i just 👁️👁️ did we read the same play? are you okay??
iago’s like not even subtly racist. like the whole play is very racist in general when you start deconstructing it and thinking about it with a critical lens.
(such as: black/dark skinned men are going to come around and seduce your pure white daughters with either “magic” or their physicality, abuse them, black men are inherently violent and angry and good for their physical prowess, the only reason a white woman would love a black man is because she pities him… like i can go on)
however, aside from desdemona’s father, iago is the Most and honestly only maliciously racist character, and it’s not even just towards othello lmao (looking at his speech about how a black woman who’s smart would only be of value if she married a white man 😒) like, i understand the ideology behind wanting to read homoerotic jealousy into his actions because why is he so fixated and jealous of this (1) man who has “everything he wants” and tbh perhaps it could work if the play itself wasn’t saying, in part, that othello cannot be trusted with the things he was “freely given” stolen because he’s black/dark skinned/from the Moors, however ya wanna put it.
like it’s easier to read homoeroticism into fucking julius caesar (the play, and i suppose the man) than this play. in hamlet, CLEARLY, than this one. and then it creates a whole host of other issues with the play IF iago is gay because then *insert a slew of homophobic stereotypes here*
however, what gets me is the play already does give reasoning behind iago’s actions. like as i was reading wiki and analyses of it after i finished my first pass of it, there seems to be a lot of “discourse” around iago’s motivations and how they’re not clear… but they are? at least to me? like, he’s egotistical, and big for his britches. he’s petty and jealous and feels that he deserves things simply because he wants them. he wants the lieutenant position because he feels he’s owed it for being done the disservice of having to serve a Moor in the first place and for being a tenured soldier for so long; and whether or not cassio is competent are neither here nor there, the point is if you get passed up for a promotion at work: work harder, accept it, or just fucking quit. but iago decided to make it everyone else’s problem. it really didn’t have much to do with desdemona herself (though i could argue that he was perhaps jealous that othello had a pretty wife who actually loved him; because even though i mentioned the racist sentiments about white women and black men earlier i don’t think desdemona is a racist character in the slightest: she fell in love with othello for who he is and she is faithfully in love with him to the end. that doesn’t change the outside perspective of those who see their interracial relationship, which is very translatable into real life in how interracial relationships are viewed but that’s a whole different conversation), nor do i think did it have to do with this weird homoerotic tension people want to force into the reading.
whenever iago says that he ‘loves’ othello, people should understand that in this time period the word “love” was (1) more freely used to describe a wide variety of positive emotions (2) in this context probably meant something more akin to “loyal” that he wouldn’t betray othello or that he values him as a subordinate should (which is clearly sarcasm) and (3) be read with heavy damn sarcasm especially when iago is not talking directly to othello. he doesn’t care about othello in the slightest; and i would argue that even if iago was made lieutenant from jump he would be scheming about how to become general. we would still have a play about how iago hates and wants to “dethrone” othello. like he’s just fucking selfish in how he treats everyone throughout the play lmao. he doesn’t even describe othello in a “i hate that i yearn for you” type of way like there is Nothing that can construct this narrative to me in the text.
so like long story short (i didn’t mean to rant but yknow ya got me going) i think a homoerotic reading of iago is just kind of out there at best and just irresponsible at worst. there’s plenty of other characters you can read as gay in shakespeare’s works, even fucking desdemona and emilia in this play itself have a better gay reading than iago and othello lmao.
obviously shippers gonna ship and like do you but i just don’t see it.
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I am so sorry for you that some of the Western press is just garbage when it comes to ruzzia. More concerned to write dozens of articles about like one isolated case of a ruzzian who appear to be anti-war, often picking examples were the impact is grossly overstated in Western press, having had no impact in ruzzia at all. I'll say that there are very very very select few ruzzians helping Ukrainians such as those helping Ukrainians to leave ruzzia. But guess what? They are not necessarily anti-war and even if they know to keep themselves anonymous and out of the public eye. But if anyone from Moscovia publicly denounces the war, they'll get a shit ton of coverage and even more asylum offers. It's ridiculous. Let them fix their own country. Europe literally tries to get Syrians to go back (or forces them to) to a country in which the ruzzian state also occassionally just decides to bomb full neighbourhoods until there is nothing left of them. But god forbid the poor uwu "anti-war" ruzzians aren't giving visas. The Ex-Soldier with his stupid book is a prime example of how ruzzians will exploit the heck out of Europe while not ever even considering to shed a single tear for Ukrainians (the worst being the absolite ridiculous excuse from the exiled ruzzian opposition org that they never would have thought he would lie to them - fellow ruzzians :O like no eff you, you willently ignored that he voluntarily rejoined the army and never gave a shit about how Ukrainians responded to the disaster). Same for Navalny ofc (and while I do consider it correct, that he was treated for being poisoned, I still know he has never renounced his right wing connections and is just as imperialistic as Putin so no - he ain't a viable "alternative" - as much as the press tries to whitewash him).
The most rational statements from ruzzians about ruzzia have come from those who left because of the regime before or right after Crimea liek Kasparov and even with him not all he says is perfect, but you know, he also has 0 ambitions to return.
On the other hand, where are all the heartwarming stories about Ukrainians? They are way more interesting, there are countless of those. There are so many Ukrainians who also willingly speak about the trauma experienced by ruzzians during occupation but I guess rape, torture and execution just gets "boring" after a year.
While I think that, as an East German, German politicians have come quite far - took 'em long enough - I totally can see what the other anon mentioned. Our press is absolutely desperate to romanticize ruzzians all the time. We hate the idea of "all ruzzians" so we latch onto "not all". Which I find particularly upsetting, since this debate has been had in Germany. Extensively. And what was largely agreed upon in German politics, culture etc.? That all Germans carry guilt for the holocaust and destruction wrought upon Europe. That being a bystander is not enough of an excuse. Sure we also latch onto the Germans that were an exception to the rule like crazy because we need the affirmation that not all Germans were okay with this, but there are some unspoken and actual laws in place. A whole chunk of put constitution is build around the concept of the common guilt for atrocities.
Aaaaand yet. When our press looks to ruzzia they simply cannot cope with the idea that maybe in some ways, history is repeating itself again.
Sorry for the vent. But I hope you know, that there are also some Westerners (if I count as such... always bit complicated as East German) that seek out Ukrainian sources to understand and see the war through your eyes.
Nothing much to add. I feel the same outrage.
#response#ukraine#war in urkaine#russia#germany#not all russians#politics#very good comparison with the way syrian refugees are treated. never thought about that before but huh
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Beating a dead horse but seeing a post this morning (and an earlier fanart) made me think about it -
In good or in Bad, Nopes has characters mentionning how having a crest makes them “monsters” (in good it’s when Miklan supports someone and calls them super rad, in BaD it’s when Uncle Rufus insults Dimitri).
But it’s also, more or less, the same thing happening in the Momo paralogue - we have mentions of how Momo was “turned into a beast” due to his Crest power :(
We also the biggest fuck you - if the player knows everything about the lore though, where Marianne goes :
The Wandering Beast's eviscerated body... Only human bones and this sword remaining.
This “sword” is also a bone, but not a human one so we don’t give a fuck?
Anyways, more about the inital point to make :
Many times in the Fodlan games’ script, we see the association that Crusts or Relics make people “monsters” and not “humans”.
And while we can muse and legit angst about the crested humans who are basically “insulted” because of their blood, what about Nabateans themselves?
In a verse where Supreme Leader and the Mole People keep on calling them beasts/creatures/other beings without “humanity” or capable of “human feelings”, how do they react to someone, maybe Miklan meaning it as a praise, calling a crested peep a “monster”?
Nabateans have crests, of course, and aren’t humans. Does this automatically make them monsters? Can’t they coexist with humans or even live with them, because they are “monsters” and not “humans”?
Are they still “monsters” when they are the one who look after humans abandoned by their own kin ?
Marianne ultimately goes :
The blood of a beast no longer flows through me. I feel human for once.
But what should Flayn or Seteth (or even Billy) think about this line? What does it mean to “feel” human? Seteth is a “beast” but writes fables for children, are his feelings “human”?
They are not bio-humans, so are their feelings automatically “not human”? Or something that is removed or cannot be understood by “humanity”?
(this reminds me of something in a certain route...)
Of course a positive point can be inferred from Marianne’s paralogue, who says this last line after having put an end to Momo’s sorry life who uwu “suffered for his murderous past” (nothing about Jack the Nabatean of course, it’s not like the games give a fuck about them, nor like Marianne reacts to Rhea’s infodump about her shiny sword and Momo’s sin) - was Momo a beast because of his “murderous past” and not because of his appearance/nature ?
I’d love to believe it...
But FE16 reminds us that Miklan “turned into a beast” after using the Relic - or at least that’s what we’re told. Miklan was still “human” when he did his thief things, pillages and, in FE16, seduced women - but the second he transformed that’s when he became “a beast”.
We know how transformation in a demonic beast happens - when a human holds a crest stone or uses a relic - but in a way, Rhea’s lies also made sense : transforming in a black beast is a sort of punishment because the human who transforms, naturally, aka not Waldified, was in both instances we see, someone who was already a “monster”, albeit not biologically, but someone who killed/pillaged/did bandit things.
Something like “you act as a monster, then your body shall reflect it”.
Tldr : in a game where there are non-humans, what does it mean to be human? When so many characters angst about not being “humans” due to crests and whatnot, why does it matter at the end of the day?
Yes, Flayn is not human, but she has more compassion than the entire cast reunited given how she “died” to heal everyone once. Is she a monster because - assuming she has one - she can enter a bestial form, even if she has “human” feelings ?
Imagine Marianne or Claude telling a Nabatean, like Seteth, Momo turned into a Monster because of over usage of his relic, and Seteth being in a better game, reacting with something like “Maurice became a monster the day he participed in the genocide of a tribe of people living in mountains, feasted on their corpses and descrated them to craft a weapon, regardless of his outer appearance”.
No wonder after 1000 years of humans angsting about “no i have a crest i am not a human i am a monster :( :( :(” Rhea was afraid Billy would reject her after knowing she is not a human, having witnessed her “other form”.
And again, sure, Dimitri, Uncle Rufus, Miklan and the student cast (save for maybe Claude but the “humanity” nonsense was added by Pat) don’t know about Nabateans or the fact there are “non-humans” living with them, but Doylist wise, we’re still playing a game where Nabateans are “othered” and treated like “abominations” for the sin of not being humans, and humans feeling like “monsters” for having nabatean blood... and Nabateans themselves are never allowed to react to this.
As cute as Flayn’s supports with Dimitri were, we don’t have something where Flayn tries to ask him - in a roundabout way - if he would still be her friend if he knew she was not human but a “beast” (and Dimitri laughing at her because come on, Flayn, being a beast/monster? and then what, she roars? Monsters are people who slaughter others and love violence, even if she was made of, say, sugar cubes, or could transform in a giant wolf, she’d never be a monster!).
Is it because of Earl Grey, or because this question trumps everything about “we want to tell a story about a 3 way war” and makes everything else pointless?
#sunday rants#it's like the sunday meal but saltier#FE16#3 Nopes#mentionned though#It's a crime how underutilised it the lol-lore route Nabateans are#that's why VW falls so utterly flat imo#no lines against the Dudes no lines against Momo#it's a miracle they had lines against Macuil'n'Indech though#nabatean stuff
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Lover’s Eye | ksj
Lover's Eye
— They say the eyes are the windows to one's soul. His just also happen to open the door to your heart.
Word Count: 5,448
Pairing: Kim Seokjin × Reader
Contents: ANGST, roMANCE, FLUFF, dRAMA, PINING, star-crossed lovers 😭, oh the woes of being a woman in a historical period, misunderstandings being cleared uwu, KIM SEOKJINNN, Historical-ish AU (but with fictional places bc i didnt want to think of being historically accurate lol)
[masterlist] | check out the [moodboard]!
A/N: IT’S LATE but happy birthday jinnie 😭💞💖💗 I wanted to write something for him, but I didn’t want to write about him leaving for the military bc it’s a bit on the nose, so here you guys go instead! it’s an old fic idea that i recently revamped lol
Fun fact! The concept is based on the Georgian tradition of having an accessory (necklace, brooch, bracelet, etc.) that depicts an image of the eyes or an eye of a secret lover, spouse, or other loved ones. This is often common for those in secret affairs, protecting their lover's identity but at the same time be able to express their love (and I think that's pretty uwu if ur star-crossed lovers ✋😭💞)
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! 💗💗💗
Your paradise is an old ruin on the outskirts of the city—a once great fortress now left to rot a hundred years after its last great feat—but in that crumbling mess of stone and moss are remnants of beautiful memories you constantly rekindle for some semblance of a warmth long gone. The pleasant weather emanates most of the feeling—warm sunlight peeking through the overgrown trees and cool breeze caressing stray hairs away from your face.
It’s a spot under one of the trees where you usually tuck yourself into and leave the rest of the world behind for your own peace of mind. It offers the perfect amount of light and shade, and the wind doesn’t become too distracting as you dawdle about.
This place, after all, is lawless, and you do as you please. At times, you’d bring a book and a pen with you, idly writing your thoughts and doodling in the margins as you read. Other days you’d stroll through the abandoned halls and let yourself be lost in imagining what took place centuries past. Most times, however, you’d sit under your favorite tree, take out a pencil or maybe that small, worn metal box of your paints, and bring something to life onto your paper—like now.
Accompanied by nothing but the distant sounds of small land critters reaching your ears, your hands move the pencil about the paper at a leisurely pace without much thought. Time passes easily this way, you taking your time to draw out figures—a person, apparently.
Oh.
Your hands come to a stop as you finally realize what—who—you’ve drawn instinctively. A man stares back at you with a tousle of dark, fluffy hair atop his head, brushing gently over his brows. His plump lips were drawn to a small smile, and his eyes—oh, his eyes—were dark in color but the expression in them remains soft and kind, piercing right through you—through your heart.
He looks beautiful—but you don’t think you could ever do the real thing justice.
At your own making, Kim Seokjin stares back at you—nothing but charcoal on paper; a mere likeness you cannot feel the warmth of, and an endearing gaze you can only recall in your memories.
You find yourself fishing for something beneath your lace blouse—a familiar small, gold locket whose four corners your fingers know very well to hold. Opening it reveals an eye that, unlike the sketch you’ve drawn, is a bit more lifelike with its colors. The dark chocolate iris has light reflecting off of it like starlight, making it stand out amidst the rest of the miniature canvas.
Flitting between the sketch and the locket only leaves you more despondent in a feat of having his image engraved in your head lest you ever have the misfortune of forgetting it.
You couldn’t help but ponder to yourself, reminiscing the seven springs since you’ve last seen the man.
“Do you like it?”
Voice falling short of a whisper, struggling to find it in you to look at his face so you resort to asking for a verbal reaction. You watch as he endearingly compares the two lockets—one with his eye’s dark chocolate hue and the other with the (e/c) of yours. It had been fairly difficult to paint on such small canvases, but you managed to accomplish the feat.
“Absolutely, my love,” he croons, pressing a kiss atop your forehead before he clasps his locket around his neck. Without any hesitation, he does the same for you.
Not long after, his fingers secure a gentle grip on your chin and guide your head upwards. For the first time since you two snuck off to meet tonight, your eyes meeting his, two almost-crescents twinkling as he gives you a smile—tender and loving with the hint of bittersweet sadness. “You’ve captured my handsomeness in the eye alone,” he jests despite himself, pride in his tone as he pulls you into an embrace. “How fortunate I have such a talented woman to immortalize me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “But of course,” you hum against his shirt, as you hug him just a little bit tighter. “You’re my only muse.”
The shake in your dwindling voice doesn’t elude your lover, making him pull away and, this time, cupping your cheeks to give them a pinch. “Don’t frown now,” he tuts, his thumbs playfully drawing a smile onto your lips. “You swore you wouldn’t.”
Seokjin’s eyes ruin his light-hearted facade—just as crestfallen as yours. For his sake, however, you do your best to oblige a smile, only to have them force tears from your eyes. A shaky sigh leaves his lips as your tears start flowing one after the other, and so he pulls you into his arms again, letting his shirt stain with your tears.
You take every second to engrave the feeling of his arms—his warmth—around you. “Come back to me,” your words are muffled by his shoulder but he hears it all the same.
“Of course,” he affirms, giving you a squeeze as he buries his nose into your hair. “I very much intend to.”
Kim Seokjin was an orphaned boy, found unconscious by the river outside the town and gladly taken in by the local baker and his wife who have been childless well into their years. He grew to be a handsome man, fawned over by even the ladies in your circle who often bemoaned about how unfortunate it was that he didn’t have anything to his name outside the bakery he’s set to inherit from his adoptive father.
You, however, accomplished what they couldn’t.
See, Kim Seokjin—one of the most revered bachelors in town—is your little secret. The man you sneak around with. The man you exchange knowing glances with. The man you’ve shared your heart with.
It was most unfortunate that the two of you were born into different classes. You are the third of four daughters in a particularly well-off family who owned and managed a relatively large farmland. Though your family ranks low amongst polite society, your mother, nearly driven mad into perfectionism, strictly wanted all of her daughters to marry well. This became the very reason why you’ve kept the fact that you and baker Kim’s son are lovers.
It was most fortunate, however, that your two elder sisters successfully secured themselves husbands for their future and the family, especially when your late father succumbed to his illness during one particularly harsh winter. Occupied with the adjustments of passing the family business to your eldest sister and her husband, your mother’s pressure with suitors eventually loosened (just a little) when it came to you and your youngest sister, who shared your distaste with the forced matches. This made it all the more easier to see Seokjin, who often came around under the excuse of his father’s bakery that got their supply of dry ingredients from your family’s company.
It was him who found the ruins—him who brought you there one night and the two of you spent the night watching the stars.
It was him who revived your love for art—him who gifted you a makeshift palette of paints and urged you to paint when you were told to forget about your passion.
It was him who left you—him who decided to seize the opportunity to be an apprentice to the royal chef and asked you to make something for him to remember you by (hence, the lockets).
The two of you swore you'd stand the test of time, distance, and everything else the universe will throw your way. Of course, such things were always easier said than done. Misfortune found its way to the path and now… well, now you’re quite unsure of what it holds for you—or him.
Here you are, seven years have passed—no Kim Seokjin aside from the ones you've put on paper and canvas.
Does he still look the same after all these years?
Did he keep his locket close to his heart, too?
Did he ever stare into the likeness of your eye and reminisce?
There are times resentment gets the better of you—questions of his love, of why he hasn't gone back to look for you, of if he ever even loved you any more—and time, itself, has made you weary, spent your tears, and tired your heart. It's gotten easier to bury memories of him, but times like this come where it rises from the depths in which you've left it. You walk the line of acceptance and delusion, indulging in your greatest "what if" while knowing the truth of your folly.
A sigh escapes your lips as you start to feel the tears stinging your eyes. You keep them at bay as you try to get yourself together. "That's enough for the day," you tell yourself, gathering your materials and slipping them into your satchel.
Another day ends with you leaving the ruins—your paradise—behind, along with all of the memories of your first love.
"A ball?"
Before you, your youngest sister, Emma, nods enthusiastically as your eldest sister, Jane, offers you a kind smile. "We thought it'd be lovely for you to join," she says, squeezing your hand, pleading. "Anne will be here by then, too, and we'll be complete."
Your heart aches for your sisters, but while you love them very much…
“You know my sentiments about polite society,” you couldn’t help but sigh, sarcasm dripping in “polite” as you know well of the vipers that hide beneath their pristine facades.
See, the truth of you and your relationship with Seokjin was discovered six or so years ago by your mother. The resulting conflict led to your disownment and the death of your reputation in the eyes of the social circle, who stared at you with scrutiny, jealousy, and disdain wherever you went.
Emma and Jane looked at you in pity—something you absolutely distaste, but you know it would never leave their eyes even if you told them to. Still, however, your eldest sister brings out a piece of paper—an invitation. “It’ll be fine,” she assures you, “It’s a masquerade ball.”
“No one would know,” Emma eagerly supplies, wielding puppy dog eyes and a pout against you.
You look at the two of your sisters—who have missed you since all these years, who have given you support in secret, who have urged you to return to the family since your late mother’s passing two years ago. You only manage to meet them a day every other week, your stubborn drive to make something of yourself occupying most of your days with your jobs.
The cursive words on the card look back at you, almost expectantly. Wearing a mask sounds promising, but the luxury of it all—finding a gown to wear, attending the extravagant party, following the strict etiquette—is all too much now for the simpler life you’ve lived in the past years. They remind you of a suffocating, restricting part of your life.
On the other hand, however, your heart strings are tugged for your sisters.
With a sigh, you set the invitation down and turn back to your sisters who anticipate your response. “How am I even supposed to afford a decent dress for myself?” you say, brow raised, but the signs of defeat bring grins onto their lips.
“We’ll gladly take care of that, dear,” Jane assures you as Emma excitedly giggles, leaving her seat to hug you.
Their warmth coaxes a smile from your lips. Anything for them.
“Anything for them, you say?” you grumble to yourself with a muffled groan as you stand amongst a crowd all chattering amongst themselves, while you stand there all by your lonesome.
The night of the much awaited ball, you stayed at the estate for the first time in years. The maids delivered to you a beautiful gown of gentle green with delicate white lace trims. Along with it was a white mask with vines and flowers sculpted around it. It took a while for you to get ready, but by the end of it, your hair was beautifully pinned up with a few pearls and faux white flowers.
The four of you—your second elder sister having arrived with her husband a few days before—meet at the living room, all happy smiles at the notion of being together again. Of course, having their husbands in tow, all of you had to split between two carriages on the way to Fairford Manor.
Which brings you here now.
Alone, because as all of your sisters have gotten married (yes, even your youngest sister has now also found herself a man), that means as the song for the waltz played, all couples go to the center and dance together.
“They say the chandelier was a gift from Queen Irene herself. Isn’t that fascinating, my lady?”
You hold back a grimace. “Quite so,” you politely say in feign interest, so as to not offend the man next to you. You don’t know who the old man is, but while he's been nice to have struck a conversation with you, if you planned to spend your evening with history lessons, you’d go to a library.
“Have you eve—”
“Good evening.”
A tall stranger approaches you both, clad in a black suit embroidered with silver thread and a black mask covering his full face. Your brows raise as the man offers you his hand. “If I may,” he courtesies, “I’d like to ask the lady for a dance?”
Looking around, it seems that the second dance has indeed begun. A part of you is relieved at the sweet release from boredom, but then again, you don’t know this man either. Something does, however, urge you to take his hand before you can even think about it.
For a moment, his hand in yours leaves you befuddled. Warm they were, and… No. Nonsense.
“I’d be delighted to,” you force a smile, now that you’ve doomed yourself to accept the invitation.
The two of you join the circle of people who came to dance to the next song. While your hand remains in his, you gingerly—awkwardly—place your other hand on the man’s shoulder. His other hand found purchase at the small of your back, as you both began to follow the tune and waltz. You thank your body for remembering the arduous years of having to study dances—you’ve yet to step on your partner’s feet!
You find yourself looking up to meet eyes with the stranger. The close distance has allowed you a better look into his eyes, and they knock the air out of you. Dark irises you’ve seen so many times before stare back at you with a knowing familiarity.
Is it—can it really be him?
“A frown doesn’t suit you, my lady,” he says, and his voice alone—soft and light-hearted as always—dooms your suspicions. With the mask obscuring his face, you find it hard to decipher his emotions. Has time rid you of knowing what his eyes speak after so long?
Your heart races and aches in a flurry of emotions, but for his sake and yours, you resist the urge to storm out of the ballroom. You wonder if he can sense your panic—if he could see your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “So, you’ve come back,” you dully say, tearing your eyes from him to spare yourself any more pain.
“A bit later than intended, I know,” he tells you as he guides you through the dance.
Too late, your pain screams. Too late. Too late—
Your teeth bite down at your lip, and you sentence yourself to silence until the last note of the song. Without another word, you hastily courtesy and leave him on the dancefloor, glaring at the marbled floors all the way out of the manor. Hushed whispers follow you, but they are nothing you haven’t privy your heart to. In fact, you’ve expected the gossiping—but him? Kim Seokjin, your first love, right before you when you’ve spent seven years without him?
He’s a blow to your heart you hadn’t anticipated—a bomb amongst mere arrows.
A sob finally escapes your lips as you reach the stairs that lead to a pathway to the gates, forcing you to shed your mask when they stick to your skin and get in the way of your tears. The cold night air nips your skin, but you’ve been shaking for far longer than the moment you stepped outside.
Your melancholy has you nearly stagger off the stairs, but a hand grabs a secure hold of your elbow before you could fall. You pathetically look up to your supposed savior—Kim Seokjin, sans the black mask. How fortunate.
“(Y/N)—”
“Don’t,” you grit through your teeth.
It’s a surreal sensation—bittersweet, really—to finally see the real thing when you’ve spent years longing for your drawings and paintings to become it. Yet, here your old flame was now—alive in a way your art could never atone—and all the yearning turned into a forest fire across your whole being.
Soft thumbs wipe away your tears, a feeling that makes you instantly flutter your eyes closed. “It’s unfair,” you find yourself whimpering your thoughts aloud. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one suffering?”
Years of scrutiny and hopelessness all reap the seeds of misery they sowed in you, all of them coming alive to ensnare you and drag you to the depth now that the sole reason for it all presents himself to you—the man you loved, the man you left your family for, the man you stayed in this damned city for even as it rots you from the inside out.
“What makes you say that?”
Seokjin’s words coax you to open your eyes. Through blurred tears, you come to realize he’s closer now, his eyes swimming with tears like yours—the sight of which softens your furrowed brows. Still, it’s not enough to satiate the years of contempt that brewed within you. “Time seems to have been kinder to you, is all,” you bitterly say, taking in his suit ensemble that you could immediately tell was expensive.
Your words hurt Seokjin, you know it well, but in a childish feat, you hope it does. “I’ve worked hard for it,” he argues, a frown tugging his lips down. “You know nothing of what I’ve been through.”
“So do you,” you say, reaching to remove his hands from your face and walking down what steps remain on the stairs.
You have no doubts of his accomplishments. He had always been able to do what he set his mind to and do so flawlessly. Perhaps, it is this that also prods at the green-eyed monster within you, who envies to see that while you may have both suffered, he’s more triumphant in his feats than you were.
Ever the better person out of the two of you, Seokjin tries to bring you to reason. He follows you out to the manor grounds. “Then make me understand,” he pleads, managing to take your hands into his and effectively stop you in your tracks yet again. “Don’t run away from this—from me.”
Seokjin’s eyes never leave yours and you find it hard for yourself to look away now. Damn it all. His eyes have always done away with you and your stubborn resolve.
“Mother found out,” you find yourself telling him, lips quivering yet again.
Through the next months after Seokjin’s apprenticeship began at the capital, you would get your news of him through his mother, who always had that knowing glint in her eyes about the two of you before he had left. Both your worries and excitement could fill an ocean, and that made the two of you much closer as you both waited for every letter from Seokjin.
It was a year or so in, however, your mother discovered his letters to you. You remember the sheer dread that washed over you when you saw her at your vanity table, reading the letters Seokjin directly addressed to you.
"Mother…"
You stood frozen by the door, part of your nightgown bunched in your hands as you watched your mother grip the letter tightly with only one thing in her eyes—fury. The moment she looked up and met your eyes through the mirror, chills ran down your spine. "What did I lack for you to have done this treachery to me, (Y/N)?" she said, voice eerily steady and sharp that it makes you flinch.
Willing yourself to step forward, you try to gently reason with her. "Mother, love mustn't have boundaries," you say, “Seokjin is—”
"Love is an illusion, (Y/N)," your mother spat, standing from the chair with such force that it toppled over. “These,” she waves a letter to your face, “These are nothing but lies.”
"It's not—"
"This boy may have you fooled, but not me," your mother claims, tearing the letter in her hands before your eyes, the sight of which sets you a blaze in panic.
"No!" you cry out and run to her, grasping her hands to try and save the other letters from the same fate. "Stop it, please! Stop!"
Your mother looks at you in outrage as you cry over the torn pages of your lover’s words, clutching the letters you managed to get a hold of close to your heart. "You'd waste yourself for that baker's boy?!" she bellowed, "What else can he give you aside from his looks, hm? Nothing!"
"I don't give a damn about what he can't give!" you scream back, anger now flowing through your veins. "I love him and he loves me—unconditionally. I'm not throwing what we have away simply because he doesn't fit you greedy ide—"
A slap damns you to silence.
"How dare you?" your mother sneers, seething. "How will you live then, hm? In the slums with nothing to eat?"
Her underestimation of commoners infuriates you. "The Kims get by just fine mother," you hiss, standing to stare her down with a glare. "Your obsession with luxury blinds you to the beauty in their simple lives."
Your mother glares back, crossing her arms. "Then I'll simply have you see things my way," she declares with such sureness that it unsettles you.
"What do you mean?"
"No daughter of mine marries a commoner," she says the words with such disgust that it stabs your heart with pain. "You'll marry Lord Jung's son, and then you'll see just how much better life is!"
Jung Hoseok, you remember him. A kind, bright boy you played with as a child—son to one of your late father’s greatest investors. He’s heir to his father’s brewery business. You can see why, in your mother’s eyes, he’s a perfect candidate for marriage.
Even so, you can't stomach the thought of betraying Seokjin—let alone attempting to unlove him.
"Then, I'll be no daughter of yours."
Your mother's visibly taken aback, her furious eyes that had seemed so sure before falter upon hearing your words. "What?"
Tears sting your eyes as you shake but you stand your ground. "If it disgusts you to have a daughter who loves a commoner, then I'll do you a favor, Lady (L/N)," you tell her, fishing for a coat in your closet, as well as the satchel that kept your locket and the makeshift palette Seokjin gifted you among other things.
"You would leave the family for that boy?"
You could no longer bear the noose this life has around your neck. "A single inch of Kim Seokjin has made me feel more love, seen, and supported than you ever could," you claim, as you don on your coat. Another glare and you finally tell your mother the truth that you and your sisters have all been thinking of for years. "Your expectations and dreams have doomed us all to terrible, unhappy ends."
In many ways, your mother had killed all of you.
Jane, the eldest, while her husband was a good man, lives in his shadow. You like to think she was a genius, if she hadn’t been shackled to be a woman like all of you were. She longed to take care of the family estate and business herself, but that power’s been passed to her husband.
Anne—sweet Anne—who loved to read about plants, was married off to a count from a neighbouring kingdom. Your mother didn’t care about the rumors of his infamous infidelity—-didn’t care that your sister was doomed to be all alone, so far from home.
And, young Emma, whose imagination knows no bounds, wanted to write stories, but mother burned her manuscripts when she found out about her intentions to publish them.
"Everything I do, I do for all of you," your mother growled.
"You do it for yourself," your words smack her nearly as hard as she did. "You'd rather have our hearts and souls die to fit your perfect picture, than be happy."
"Happiness isn't everything—"
"I'd rather die than live without happiness."
This shocks her enough into silence that it gives you time to storm out of the room—of the estate.
Seokjin’s eyes were wide as you told him of what had transpired that night. He seems as if he had something to say, but he withholds his words until you finish your side of the story.
The two of you walk in the night, side by side with a distance drawn by an invisible line between you both. “I came to the bakery the moment I left,” you tell him, “but even then, my misery doesn’t end.”
That night, certain of your disownment, you made a run for the Kims' bakery. Imagine your surprise when you found the establishment abandoned. No more bread of all shapes, forms, and flavors displayed. No more gentle conversation between Mr and Mrs Kim. No more kind smiles to welcome you into the abode.
Everything was gone.
“I don’t know what happened,” you say, shivering yet again—this time from the cold. Seokjin wordlessly sheds his black overcoat, the silver threads embroidered into it glinting in the moonlight as he did. For a moment, you’re silent, words unable to escape you as he drapes his coat over your shoulders.
This makes it all the more difficult to meet his eyes, you forcing yourself to look at the forest ahead. “I…” you wet your lips as you ease your breathing. “I barely had any money with me, but one of our old maids thankfully took me in.”
Helen remains to be someone dear to your heart. “It was also her who helped me find something to make a living with,” you say, a soft smile on your face at the memory of going through town with Helen to look for jobs. In the end, she was able to help you become an assistant seamstress to a kind over to a dress shop.
After months of working, you finally had enough to look for him where you last knew he was. “The first of my plans was to earn enough money to go to the capital,” you murmur, your smile fading at the memory of what took place there when you arrived. “Alas,” you bitterly laugh, “you weren’t there anymore.”
It took you days to even manage to ask a member of the royal kitchen staff about what happened to Seokjin, and as it turns out, he quit from his post some time after you were disowned. Next to you, Seokjin grimaces, sighing as he shakes his head. “I,” he stammers, “I had already been under a lot of pressure, and…”
It seemed to be his turn reminiscing. “My parents came to the capital all of a sudden,” he began, “they said Lady (L/N) told them to get out of the city at your request—said that you were getting married to another and you didn’t want anything that reminded you of me.”
Your heart dropped at the news. When did your mother orchestrate such a scheme?
You recall that before that night, the last you had seen of Mr and Mrs Kim had been a week or so. Had your mother known about you and Seokjin for much longer before you discovered her in your room?
Tears return to your eyes, and you find yourself clutching Seokjin’s coat tightly in your hands. A newfound hatred for your mother burns in you, but a part of you still found fault in Seokjin’s predicament. “Seven years,” your words tremble. “I’ve waited seven years for you to come back—stayed a commoner here even as they slander me behind my back because I didn’t want you to not find me. Why didn’t you come for me sooner?”
Until the end, you were your mother's disappointment. Even your youngest sister, who had no plans of getting married, was now with child, having gotten married to the heir to a publishing company last summer. You, on the other hand, denied any man who came to ask for your hand—who all told you how fortunate you were that they’re even asking a desolate spinster like you.
You could feel Seokjin’s gaze from beside you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look into them and see what they held. A sigh resounds from him, so filled with regret and anguish. “I lost my way for a while,” he confesses, “when I heard your supposed husband was an heir, I was angry. I poured my heart and my time into making something of myself—I got back to the royal kitchen, I got employed under a ducal family, and then I delved into business.”
He looks up at the moon, like it’d give him more strength for his confessions. “I planned to come back here and show you all of that, I…” he shakes, “I wanted you to regret leaving me.”
You find it hard to imagine Kim Seokjin, who was always so mature and certain of himself, be so unsure and lost, and yet the emotions his words carry are proof of it. A part of you feels betrayed that he thought you would believe such a thing, but you know well how emotions can cloud a person’s reason.
The two of you came to a stop when he stood before you, seizing your hands yet again since the manor’s staircase. A hand came to tilt your chin towards him. “When I finally came here,” Seokjin earnestly looked at you, “I can’t begin to imagine the relief and joy I felt to find out you never got married at all, but I… I also know what a fool I’ve been.”
A glint of that well-known determination is in his eyes as he fishes for something pinned beneath his waistcoat. “When I saw you at the ball, I knew I had to at least try if I had even a small chance to be with you again.”
In his hands was his locket, one that revealed your eye in the midst of it. At that moment, your eyes yet again shine with tears—this time, happier than the previous ones. Your heart swells, not enough to quell your pain, but still enough to comfort your broken heart—to embrace it and say “I’m here, I’ll never leave again.”
Before you is a familiar view, you now realize it as you look around what surrounded you both. Walking down the memories of the past lead you to the place where you both shared most of it—the ruins.
A small smile makes it to your lips. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” you ask him, and watch as he, too, came to recognize where you two were. The smile that befalls him is precious, as he nods.
You find yourself squeezing his hand in yours, taking a step forward to lessen the gap between you both. You stare into his eyes—see how softly and kindly they gaze at you. “You are my only muse,” you say, echoing the words you told him seven springs ago as your fingers reach for the locket you kept tucked between your dress and corset. “The one who gave me strength amidst my misery.”
Seokjin encloses his right hand with yours, both of them containing your respective lockets, as he rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering close. “You’re my muse, too,” he swore under his breath as he leaned in and captured your lips in a tender kiss.
You smile, the cracks in your heart slowly but surely being melded back together from his warmth.
Here you are, seven years have passed—Kim Seokjin very much alive and within arm’s reach, proving what you thought during that dreadful night to be true. You can never unlove him.
𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @mwitsmejk @dreamamubarak @bloodline1632
#ayooo#gotta love them starcrossed lover aus#bts au#bts angst#bts fluff#bts historical au#bts imagines#bts oneshots#bts kim seokjin imagines#kim seokjin imaignes#kim seokjin x reader#kim seokjin oneshots#bts writing#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction
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Hi! I'm interested to see how you think the proxies (Toby, Hoodie, and Masky) would react to trying to tell their S/O that they're a killer only to find out their S/O also just so happens to be one too.
Toby and Hoodie Find Out their SO Is a Proxy/In the Same Profession
[GN!Reader]
[Warnings: mentions of murder but standard stuff, Y’know? Also mentions of emotional and verbal abuse]
[AN: stated below but Masky was done already! So, just doing these two <3]
Masky
Masky was done here!
Toby
No, he does not like it. He's really, really, deeply uncomfortable with the revelation that you're just like him. Might even end the relationship.
I know, I know, you guys were expecting some "uwu bonnie and clyde kissing killers" thing but NO. No, I am not entertaining that. I think you've always known about him, because like, he's bad at hiding it. But you telling him you're kinda similar to him?
Gods he is not happy with it. He doesn't want you to... Look, it destroys his perception of you.
He wanted to view you as some innocent thing outside of this world. But, you're just as bad and as broken as him.
He's not comfortable with it at all. You two have a lot of talking to do, and I am genuinely serious that he might call the relationship off. But, out of all the men here, he's the easiest to convince to stay with you.
Toby will never look at you the same though. The relationship has changed forever. You cannot ask him any questions about his work or bring yours up. He does not want to know about what you do unless you're in danger and need him. Other than that, let him go back to thinking you're innocent and sweet.
He knows it's a lie.
Hoodie
Another man who is NOT pleased whatsoever. He tries to bring up the situation delicately and you tell him you're like him and just like Toby, he does NOT take it well.
Hoodie needs some time away from you. When he comes back, he aggressively grills you on absolutely everything. Why are you doing what you're doing? Are you killing for pleasure? Motives, methods, all of it.
It doesn't matter what you say, he's upset with you. Ends up leaving the place the two of you live at to go on more missions, ends up avoiding you and icing you out for a while.
A lot like Toby, you were an anchor to the outside world, a slight "the world isn't bad, humans aren't broken and I can go back to normalcy". And funny enough, I think it's Brian that's the most disturbed with you.
Anyways he tries to make it work with you, but he's not happy with you. He's not comfortable and doesn't want to even look at you.
So the relationship becomes a bit explosive, and verbally and emotionally abusive on both ends.
Hoodie, to protect Brian, cuts you out of his life entirely. You never see Hoodie again. Never. He is a bad dream, and he should stay that way. He's heartbroken over you, and the Operator is ready to smite him just for bitching about it for the umpteenth time.
#ticci toby headcanons#ticci toby headcanon#ticci toby x reader#hoodie headcanon#hoodie x reader#hoodie#brian thomas headcanon#brian thomas x reader#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta masky x reader#masky x reader#masky headcanon
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how babey are the egos on a scale of 1-10
dark: 1/10. most of the time he is smooth sexy bastard man but sometimes he is just in need of cuddles. but even when he wants cuddles hes just like in denial about it
damien: 10/10 the most babey ever . constantly 🥺 at you in search of cuddles and kisses the boy is so touch starved when u kiss him he melts every time
actor: 4/10 usually just whiny little dog of a man not really babey material but when hes sleepy he is just 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕
illinois: 5/10 too suave and cool and sexy to be babey usually but sometimes he just cant stop himself from uwu-ing
yancy: 10/10 OHH BABEYYY !!! <3333 the snuggliest man ever. constant heart eyes constant need to be held constant hand holding just sksdfhjfgdd!!!! owo
engineer mark: 7/10 when around the crew he is Not Babey (well… 99% of the time he isnt…) but get him alone and the boy is just 😄💞🥺☺️💘💗🥰😍 he is so touchy he just gotta grab u and just need to look at ur pretty face
Omg these boys make me so softyttttt
- Dark is ofc a big house cat and so he’d VEHEMENTLY DENY any desire for affection or whatever but then he’s practically laying across u ANY chance he gets jshdjsjskskdj I just want him to rest his head in my lap while I give him head pats😭
- DAMIEN WOULD BE ALL NUZZLY N SHIT HES ALSO A HOUSECAT BUT ONE OF THE SUBER CUDDLY AFFECTIONATE ONES (dark has to get it from somewhere right? Lmao) I feel if ur touching damien, the moment your hand leaves his body he unconsciously shifts closer chasing ur touch. Same w kisses I lub he
- Actor is, in fact, a pathetic wet puppy dog of a man and now I’m imagining him coming home from a day of filming and maybe he had to do a really emotionally draining/intense scene and just had a rough day in general so the second he sees you when he gets home he just kind of does sad puppy dog eyes and grabby hands at u and then u both take a bath and have some wine just tryna get him out of that headspace rUAHH I WANT TO TAKE CARR OF HIM!!!!🥺🥺🥺🥺
-illi 67% of the time is just,,,, the hORNiEsT MAN A L I VE and just always trying to fluster u or act super suave and hawt and shit but then you do something super endearing he just internally screams and can feel his soul leave his body for a sec🙃🫠🫡 (bonus points if he’s silently pining and just miserable bc ur just sO PRECIOUS HE PHYSICALLY CANNOT STAND IT!!!!!
- YANCY WOULD HAVE HIS HAND IN UR BACK POCKET EVERY CHANCE HE GOT!!!!!!!!!!! He’d just be so casually affectionate and touchy bless him you’d be just hangin out at lunch and y’all are listening to the conversation at the table and he just kinda wraps an arm around ur waist with a little kiss to ur jaw and it’s just !!!!!!!!! SO NICE!!!!!!!!!!!! I feel like despite his anxious/insecure tendencies whenever he’s in a comfortable atmosphere he’s just casually very confident and self assured and I just😩😩😩😩
- DONT! GET! ME! STARTED! ON! ENGINEER! MARK! HES SO NEEDY AND BABY AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!! Like yes he is a very capable hard worker who’s very passionate about his work but also he sees you doing your work as captain sometimes and his heart just kinda palpitates a bit sugrisudjdj no matter how much he’d deny it he PREENS under ur praise and will do almost anything just to make i smile and I just AAAAAAAAAAAAA the second u get him alone he’s putty in ur hands and just wants love and affection. Give it to him. Now. Do it.
#I’m so out of it from a nap rn but these boys just get me like🥰🥹🫠😮💨🥺😭💕#actor mark x reader#darkiplier x reader#yancy x reader#mayor damien x reader#illinois x reader#engineer mark x reader#markiplier egos/reader#markiplier egos x reader#thanks for the ask!#softie speaks#RAT<3#rat and softie’s ramblings
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some heartsteel ez headcanons! (aka my whole portrayal)
he started off in a more traditional idol group, not as a soloist. he got scouted off the street and became a trainee at 14, debuting as a part of the group's final lineup years later. the group did moderately well but was disbanded only two years into their run due to financial issues within the company.
he ended up being brought into the same label as sett shortly after, which is when they met for the first time ! ezreal got his flash in the pan hit ( you're my museum ) thanks to them, but then he just struggled to replicate that level of success and eventually left the label himself.
he's VERY good on camera. he was strictly media trained and has a very curated uwu soft boy image that he sticks to in public appearances. it's honestly not too dissimilar to his actual personality, but it's definitely a persona cranked up to the point where people who've spoken to him in private will notice the difference.
he loves the freedom he has with heartsteel ! like the freedom to post candids of sett drooling in his sleep while in the minivan or aphelios burning his fingers on hot pockets. he takes a lot of photos all the time and always saves the goofy ones to use as blackmail. and on that note:
he is ADDICTED to his phone i swear to god he cannot put it down for longer than three seconds. his phone is always hot to the touch because he's been staring at it all day and he replies to fans' tweets frequently. he watches youtube at 3 am full volume no headphones and everyone hates him for it.
he is ALWAYS begging the other heartsteel members to make ridiculous tiktoks with him. he has an excuse, this is literally his job !
he wanted to start live streaming so he decked out his room with a fancy gaming chair + top tier pc set up + decorations all over and then ... just never started it. the room still looks cool though :]
he's a massive weeb unfortunately ... there's no space on his desk because he has too many naruto figures crowding around his monitor. his favorite anime is fruits basket because he's a sappy guy like that
he takes really good care of his skin. i'm talking 17 step routine every night, sunblock on even indoors. he's very very dedicated. he's got really soft hands too hehe
#i have .. a lot of thoughts on the darker side of the entertainment industry and all of that#but i wanted to keep this fairly lighthearted#so that's a post for another day!#heartsteel rotting my brain i swear to god
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MER MER MER POLITICAL MARRIAGE! POLITICAL MARRIAGE! Siobhan x Sebastian + ❛ it’s not for you. it’s not a favor. it’s the cruelest thing i could do. ❜ from the hero x villain prompts? 👀👀👀
POLITICAL MARRIAGE yeah I knew I would get you with that one hehehe
so like, they're rivals but they're friends? because I like to add a bit of nuance to the da2 companion approval mechanics lol
also this went a bit somfter than I intended whoops ;-;
for @dadrunkwriting and an honorary mention to @melisusthewee who sent me the same prompt for the same ship uwu
~~~
“If we do this—“ Siobhan began, and then stopped. She wasn’t sure where the sentence would end, and she didn’t care to continue like that.
“If?” Sebastian echoed. “You seemed quite certain a few days ago.”
“I am certain, it’s just” —she pursed her lips and pulled aside the curtains to gaze out at Hightown— “are you?”
His armor rasped a familiar cadence as he came to stand beside her. “And why would I not be?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like I’m not clearly getting the better end of this deal.” Siobhan scowled. Her breath fogged against the glass, obscuring the servants and couriers in the square below. “The most valuable part of Kirkwall is her port. And Starkhaven hardly needs marine access.”
“The most valuable part of Kirkwall is her leader. And there is nothing more precious than one who cares for her entirety."
He leaned sideways, one shoulder against the glass, and regarded her with those damnable eyes that always pierced her soul. “As you do.”
“I’m not even guaranteed the throne,” she countered.
“Oh please, Champion.” Sebastian chuckled. “It’s only a matter of time before Elthina sees reason and restrains the Knight-Commander. Who else do you suppose the nobility will turn to when that happens?”
“You never know who’s lurking in the shadows.”
The prince sobered. “True enough. Although, in all fairness, I’m hardly guaranteed Starkhaven either. That makes us rather even, no?”
“Starkhaven is your birthright!” Her armor smacked against his as one arm snapped out to whack his chest. “The only thing standing between you and it is your damn self.”
“While I would gladly leave Kirkwall in your very capable hands” —he cupped them as he spoke, rubbing comforting circles over callouses and scars— “I would not abandon you in this hour of need.”
“Starkhaven—“
“—has not yet fallen under the incompetent rule of my cousin. I very much doubt those who pull his strings are angling for the city’s destruction.”
“Must be nice,” Siobhan muttered darkly.
Sebastian’s fingers curled around her fist and she did not stop him as he pried her fingers open. In her palm was a ring, warmed from her skin and glinting in the torchlight. The design was custom, silver chains entwined with the furred dragons of Starkhaven.
Symbolic and beautiful and—
“But that’s not your only concern, is it?” Sebastian murmured.
Her hand clenched around the ring once more and she pressed it to her mouth. “Of course not.”
With the patience of a brother who has sat through many a stilted, awkward confession, Sebastian waited, giving Siobhan the space to find her meaning.
“I am…new…to nobility,” she began, slowly and methodically choosing each word. “I know that you do not always expect to marry for love. But I—my mother gave up everything for that chance.”
She took a deep breath and forced herself to look the prince dead on. “I’m not in love with you, Sebastian. I don’t know that I will ever be. I would not ask you to share your throne with someone who cannot give you her heart.”
“Ah, I see.” Sebastian hummed and she steeled herself for his anger, his lashing out with bitter pain.
“Hawke.” One gloved hand caught the underside of her chin. They were nearly the same height, so rather than tilting back, his hand traced the line of her jaw with gentle reverence. “There is love between us, but no romance. I have always known that and I brought this to you regardless.”
“Love is hardly so simple as to be a flat coin with only two sides,” he snorted and the tension Siobhan had imagined between them snapped like a cord under a blade. “The both of us would give anything for our cities. There is connection enough in that, and more in mutual respect, for this to flourish.”
“But what if—“
“As you said, you are new to nobility. And you know nothing of royalty.” Sebastian leaned back, a bit of a cocky smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Should I find a lady who could turn my attention from both you and Starkhaven, there is always room at a prince’s elbow for a consort.”
Siobhan rolled her eyes, but relief was a warm buzz through her veins. “It doesn’t bother you? To close that path forever?”
“No.” Certainty reverberated in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with just one syllable. “Don’t forget—I was to give up such earthly pleasures regardless. I have not thought of my own personal future in some time.”
“Of course,” Siobhan murmured. “But now—“
“Now I have a duty to Starkhaven,” he said firmly. “Anything beyond that is in the Maker’s hands. I will look to Him when that time comes, if it comes.”
He was so sure. It was enviable and unobtainable and Siobhan resented it as much as she loved it for him.
“Very well,” she opened her fist again and Sebastian threaded a thin leather cord through the ring. His breath ghosted over her skin as he lifted it over her head. The ring settled below the hollow of her throat and he fastened the cord with a strong knot behind her neck.
“You have walked beside me, down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh,” he quoted softly. His accent shaped the Chant into something almost palatable; it pulled at the weary edges of Siobhan’s faith. “You have stood with me when all others have forsaken me.”
Her fingers found the foreign metal and played with it, staring out the window. She leaned back against Sebastian’s chest, solid, sturdy, supporting. Her rock. She was, as always, a fool to doubt.
“Though I bear scars beyond counting,” she murmured. “Nothing can break me except your absence.”
#dadwc#my writing#sebhawke#da2#sebastian vael#oc: siobhan hawke#dragon age 2#dragon age fic#hawke x sebastian#they're not IN love but they LOVE each other okay it's important to meeeeee
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