#i don't die here i just go back to stage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merrinla · 8 months

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Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

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destourtereaux · 9 months

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just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader

⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!

⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.

___

The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.

You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be.

Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.

___

You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.

Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".

After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.

You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"

You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.

But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."

Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.

"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"

Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.

You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

___

It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.

There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.

But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.

___

Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.

He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.

Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.

"What?"

"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"

So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part.

"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.

"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

___

The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.

You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.

"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.

Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."

You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."

Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.

You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.

Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer.

You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"

He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter.

"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"

Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.

"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.

"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.

"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."

"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"

And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.

You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.

___

The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.

A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.

"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.

"You did what?"

"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."

"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."

He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.

He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.

You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.

"I'll give you three."

___

Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.

You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving.

Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.

And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.

___

This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.

"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."

"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."

Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.

Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.

"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."

You nod, urging him to continue.

"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."

The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.

Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."

"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.

"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"

You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.

You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.

Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.

The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.

He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."

"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his.

Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.

___

interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!

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sylveon-official · 2 months

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thoughts on angel's heartbreak

viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo

i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.

we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"

i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.

so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.

husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.

the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.

that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"

"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"

"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"

angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"

"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"

angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...

"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.

"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"

"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.

husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.

"angel, wait-"

"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.

then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.

this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.

i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #writing #thoughts

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jueyvns · 3 months

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Gojo had grown into a fine young man. He was no longer that timid and terrified boy you'd found in the outskirts of the town. His character has turned into something of a much more confident man.

Sitting in the garden you took care of so well and delicately, you didn't even realize that the white haired man was approaching you. "(Name)," he called. Despite being a figure that he should address highly, you and him have went past that stage a long time ago. You insisted he stopped calling you with that nonsense of a title.

Turning to him, your lips curled into a thin smile.

"Satoru. You're back early." If he hadn't, then maybe you'd realized how his blue orbs had softened at the sound of your voice. It always does wonders to his heart. The maids would always say he's in love with the said princess but he'd always brush it off by saying he just respects you.

"What can I say? I'm just the best out there."

That emits a giggle out of you. He comes closer and sits down next to you. "Any particular reason why your first instict is to come here instead of resting?"

He frowns, "You wound me. Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I never said that," you paused, holding in a smile. "I'm just worried for your wellbeing. A royal guard should always have their rest especially if they'd just come out of a battle, don't they?"

He stops for a moment to take a good look at you. There's something about you being basked in sunlight and talking to him so softly. It has his heart racing. He wants you to talk to him forever.

"Well. Yes, they do. But," he led your hand to cup his cheek. You let him, you always do. Your thumb caressed the spot under his eye. He leaned into your touch. His eyebags showed how he hadn't got much sleep. "I missed you."

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you chuckled, "I'm still here tomorrow, and the day after that. I'm not going anywhere."

"Well, yeah but I haven't seen you in weeks."

"I missed you too, Satoru. But you must rest," you could find the disappointment in his eyes as you said those words. You patted your lap and gave him a reassuring smile. "Lie your head here."

He paused in his actions, looking at you in disbelief. Slowly, he lied his head down on your lap. Looking up at you. He might die, he thinks. Your fingers card through his hair and his cheeks flushed pink. "You look pretty," he said quietly.

He didn't miss the tinge of pink dusting your cheeks and you giggled. "You're prettier." He smiled and closed his eyes, feeling your touch. Before he drifted off to sleep. He heard you whisper,

"You did a great job, Satoru. Sleep well."

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff

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rpclefairy · 5 months

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𝐁𝐆𝟑 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

a selection of lines from the various companions' banter quotes (not cut scene dialogues!) from baldur's gate 3. these are generally spoiler free and non context specific so they can apply to different settings and dynamics! feel free to change names and the like to customize the prompts.

“Death can't have me. Not yet…”

“Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.”

“Realmspace is vast. Countless worlds to be mapped, kingdoms to be conquered.”

“I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kicking of butts!

“Let me guess - you need something.”

“Such attention.. I never realised I was so popular.”

“Let's cook with fire, baby.”

“Do you intend to vocalise every thought?. Or just the most obvious ones?”

“Wherever we go, ye gods let there be something green.”

“Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.”

“Watch your elders and learn.”

“Perhaps try attacking the enemy?��

“So much we don't know, lingering in the furthest reaches of existence.”

“All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.”

“The shadows are my friend.”

“Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.”

“Feet planted firmly on Faerûn, please.”

“Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”

“Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you?”

“I am ready, whatever may come.”

“My faith protects me.”

“Need a throat slitting?”

“Death greets us all - but not today.”

“You need my expertise?”

“Can you feel death's cold grip?”

“So many stars, so many mysteries yet to be discovered.”

“Death comes quietly.”

“And I thought we were going to be friends.”

“Locked tight, but there must be some way to open it.”

“No, you can't die. Get up, damn you!

“You had my attention, now you have my fury.”

“From silence to suffering.”

“So many worlds out there. You'd need a thousand lifetimes to see them all - more.”

“I hope this is important. For your sake.”

“Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.”

“I ought to just burn this whole thing down.”

“We have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.”

“You have still have time to surrender.”

“Every kicked buttock, another step on the path.”

“Weave save me. I can't take much more…

“You are right to fear me.”

“Let me look around. Might be something that'll help me crack this thing.”

“Incredible, to think how many worlds exist beyond this tiny speck within a speck I call home.”

“I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”

“I can fawn over my face later.”

“Ready for another round?”

“Keep your blade close.”

“I can't unlock it from here, but there must be a switch or a button somewhere…”

“No, that's not moving. There must be a way to open it somewhere.”

“Battle favours the fearless.”

“Sleep with one eye open, evil. Maybe both.”

“Gotta be something around here to unlock this thing.”

“Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”

“Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too.”

“Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.”

“Still standing, no matter what you heard.”

“Enough waiting. I crave blood.”

“Hang on - I won't allow this. You aren't dead, go it?”

“GODS, it's HOT in here!”

“No rest for the wicked, I see.”

“Better to hide than fight, sometimes.”

“Would that I could hide from you, too.”

“Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?”

“There is no right or wrong, only truth.”

“Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe.”

“What good all this ethereal eladrin blood if I can still get pimples?”

“I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.”

“I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness.”

“Let's have some fun.”

“War is an old woman's game.”

“No rest, be you wicked or wise.”

“I'm getting too old for this nonsense.”

“I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want.”

“You have my attention - now do something with it.”

“You are insistent, are you not?”

“Do what must be done.”

“Your suffering will be spectacular.”

“Lest I sit down for a rest and not rise again.”

“Better to look evil in the eye. Even if it be very small.”

“I'm not built to crouch.”

“I think I could go another round.”

“Always the same old song.”

“Is perfection too much to ask?”

“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”

“So many places to be.. and I chose Baldur's Gate.”

“I'm not opening that. Not from here, at any rate.”

“What is the point, if not victory?”

“Won't last much longer like this.”

“Let's hope the locals are friendly.”

“Let us show them how it's done.”

“Weapons high. Standards higher.”

“Must everyone be so exhausting?”

“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…”

“Which way to the nearest library?”

“Now this is my happy place.”

“Who shall I silence?”

“Stop, or die.”

“Wear your scars proudly.”

#indie rp #rp meme #rp ask meme #sentence starter #rp prompts #bg3 prompts #rp sentence starters

921 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 9 months

Text

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

who else knows you're still alive?

don't tell me i'm the only one that knows.

i never should have believed their lies.

how could you keep this from me?

they lied to you. they knew it would break you if i died.

i staged it all.

there's no way this is happening.

i'm never letting you go.

i promised you i'd never leave you.

but i saw you die! this is impossible!

no. no. this isn't happening. this can't be real.

i watched it. i watched you die and now you're standing here.

how is this even possible?

they might have exaggerated just a bit.

we needed to make it look like i was dead.

you just let me spend all this time thinking you were dead?

did you tell anyone else?

this was your master plan? fake your death, see what happens?

i don't know whether to be pissed or be thrilled to see you again.

i've just seen a ghost.

you saw what they wanted you to see.

you're not real. i must be dreaming.

did you look for me?

funny. i don't remember falling asleep.

you just let us all believe you were dead?

it was the only way to do this. i'm sorry.

when were you going to tell me?

i watched the life leave your eyes...

you kept this from me.

oh my god... no. no no no. this can't be happening.

how did you... how did you even do this?

someone pinch me.

you look pretty good for someone that's supposed to be dead.

i watched you die in my arms.

they told me you died.

i promised you i'd come back.

they lied to me? all this time?

trust me, i wanted to tell you. i really did.

i think i need to sit down.

i'm gonna need some time to process this.

are you real? can i touch you?

what was all this about you dying?

you've kept the truth from me all this time.

had you just told me, i could have helped you.

i begged them to let me tell you, but they said it would ruin our plans.

the blood was fake. i'm all right.

yes, i'm alive! would you please come over here and give me a hug?

i didn't think i'd survive it, either.

i knew you'd come back for me.

we had to make it believable from the start.

there was no other way.

i should have told you.

i tried to get a message out to you.

they said you'd moved on, so i figured i should, too.

i wish i had all the answers for you.

i know you expect me to be okay with this, but things have changed since you died.

[name]... i thought you were dead.

will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?

i'll never leave you again.

i swear on my life, this wasn't supposed to happen this way.

i take it you got my message.

everything got out of hand.

they didn't tell you?

glad you could make it.

i'm sorry i didn't reach out to you sooner.

all of a sudden, you come back into my life.

i'm back and better than ever.

i don't want to hear your excuses.

1K notes · View notes

writingmeraki · 11 months

Text

hot & cold I

READ PART TWO HERE !

a min ho mini series !

summary : Feeling the warm butterflies in your stomach as well as the cold sinking feeling in your heart wasn't the best especially just because of one person nonetheless you think it was worse because that person was none other than the guy you apparently hated with your entire existence.

( or you long crossed the blurry lines of love and hate when it came to Minho and were both just idiotic enough to not realise that until you had to force it out of yourself because of your stupidity.)

genre : angst, fluff, comfort !

pairing : minho x fem!reader, e2l, idiots to lovers.

warnings : mentions of alcohol and underage drinking, kissing and making out, cussing. both being dumb and too high on their ego. kinda blame it on Minho in this one I fear 😨

author's note : and as my obsession goes crazy, I knew I had to write a miniseries on Minho. I honestly have no idea how long it can be this time, it'll mostly depend on your feedback but also how long I make this but expect 2-3 parts more ?? this was written out of nowhere tbh because I had a really different idea for this. anyways enjoy and let me know what you think ! <3 ( not proofread as usual, we die like real men 😀)

based on this request !

word count : 4.3k

"Maybe you should put that down now."

Kitty said, observing the way you tipped down the cocktail, be it a secret yet not secret alcoholic one.

You winced and shook your head as you smashed the glass down after, Kitty having to shoot an apologetic look to the temporary bartender, who wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else but a party of drunk and horny teenagers sneaking in alcohol and downing it as though they were going through all stages of grief at the moment or in moments of classical teenage stupidity.

"Oh- KAY! I think that's more than enough." She pulled your hands away from the other cocktail that was served up,despite this one now being the only non-alcoholic, she felt it was getting a lot and you whined at her, she narrowed her eyes at you.

"Y/N, you've had more than enough."

"Noooo, I'm fine I can handle ittt." Your words slurred and she gave you a blank stare, holding up two fingers, she asked

"Okay then, how many fingers I am holding up?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to think hard and giggled as you spoke

"Kitty, Katty since when did you have six fingers?" A drunken smile sat on your face as you leaned forward pointing your finger to count the 'six' fingers.

You vision was blurry but you were still able to make out the outline of what was in front of you.

Kitty rolled her eyes and sighed softly "How much did you even have?"

You put up both your hands, all fingers up and her eyes widened almost comically, it only made you giggle at her expressions,

"TEN? please tell me TEN sips!"

"Nooo silly, of course not…it was just three glasses with that sercret ingredient." You whispered to her as you leaned in closer as though you were telling a top secret and in a way it was, your lips were turned upwards, dimples lightly peaking.

"Alright, we have to get you back to the dorms then! Let me call Q and Florian, then we'll go okay? You stay here. Don't move Y/N!" She pointed at you, her words strict but you couldn't think about anything other than how pretty she seemed at the moment, so without much thought you blurted out,

"You look so pretty, Kit, you really do." Your eyes were half closed but you could see her wearing a tight black dress, her hair done down and straight, her black heels only making her figure look leaner.

Kitty, despite knowing you were drunk, couldn't help but laugh at your words, she shook her head and told you one last time before disappearing to find Q and Florian as soon as she could.

Looking up, the ceiling was multicolored, flashes of blue and green danced across it and you looked in awe as if it was a piece of art.

You looked around you, noticing the way the entire place seemed to be overcrowded but people were having fun, either getting shit drunk or dancing as if it was their last time.

Welcome to your life

There's no turning back

Even while we sleep

We will find you

You smiled when you heard the familiar tune and lyrics, having hearing it from your roommate and also ended up falling in love with it, the beat was slightly altered to make it more party pop but it only made it more better.

Standing up and stumbling slightly as you made your way to the dance floor, the world looking like it was moving fast as you also moved your body along to the crowd.

You felt as though you'd been hit so hard when you ended up colliding harshly into the person and you braced yourself for the fall, feeling as if you're flying high to come crashing hard into the ground.

Acting on your best behaviour

Turn your back on mother nature

Everybody wants to rule the world

And as cliche as it could get, you didn't feel the crash instead a stronger grip on your waist pulled you back up as the side face instead hit something soft yet firm.

You looked up and you felt the same awe when you saw the multicolored ceiling as though it was a piece of art, maybe even more, as your eyes scanned his face.

It's my own design

It's my own remorse

Help me to decide

Help me make the most

Colours shone on his face, highlighting his sharp jawline that you felt yourself get lost in, you continued to scan the bridge of his nose and his cupid's bow. You looked into his eyes and only felt your haziness increase as you felt the tug in your heart. They seemed to drink you in as you did him, and your gaze turned to the way one corner of his lips turned upwards.

The arm around your waist felt warmer than it should and you definitely felt the heat on your face, your entire body even. Your knees felt more weaker as you prayed your legs didn't give up on you, and with this the grip on your waist only got tighter.

Minho looked down at you, his gaze never leaving your face as he held you up. Staring at your lips for a little longer than he should have. The fact that he felt as if there were sparks of electricity running through just by the waist around your arm and most of your body weight on his, made him only want more. More than he should be wanting.

And again, letting your intrusive thoughts take the wheel of your actions, you lifted up one hand and brushed it along his jawline.

"Ouch…paper cut." Giggling at your ridiculous joke, you rested your head on his shoulder now, moving your arms around his broad shoulders.

Naturally, his own arms now fully wrapped around your waist and if someone, which more than a few heads turned, saw you in this position, it'd look more intimate than it should. Considering how far down you both go.

Minho smiled unknowingly, the sound of your giggles always making his heart race more than it should.

"I know you're clumsy as fuck, but I didn't think you'd fall for me this soon, I guess it would happen soon anyways considering how intelligent and good looking I am."

Your eyes moved to look up into his, noticing his lips pulled into a smirk that really only did more things unbeknownst to you,and you narrowed them before slurring out,

"You sound exactly like Minho, I actually thought it was almost you." You continued mumbling,

"But I know it's definitely not him, considering he was already busy with that…Madison." You rolled your eyes, slowly shutting them and you pushed your head back down onto his shoulders and moved closer to the crook of his neck, craving the warmth he radiated.

"Plus I'm sure he'd let me fall face first on the ground if I fell on him the way I just did." You mumbled into his neck, he felt himself control the shiver that run down his spine when your lips touched his neck as you mumbled.

Frowning, he spoke up, wanting to defend himself even if it seemed pointless,

"No, he wouldn't." He said firmly and you looked up at him as you thought of his words,

"Considering how we are, I don't think I'm wrong to assume he'd do that." Even though you were drunk, you spoke the words more smoothly as if it was a whole truth.

"Besides I don't even care what he does, he can go kiss that…that girl for all I care, no I definitely don't care if he does this with her, if he looks at her like that way."

Minho's expression turned down, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pulled into a frown,

"What way?" He asked softly as he could see your eyes tearing up and you gulped sadly and you put on a dejected smile,

"How I wish, I wish he'd look at me, for once." You said more gently, whispering letting your vulnerable feelings speak up.

He only felt his heart sinking the more he took in the sadness and vulnerability showing on your face, he felt his guilt double than it had before as he recalled why he'd even been making out with Madison in the first place.

He'd felt his entire focus zone in on the person who'd just walk in the place.

Even as much as he seemed to hate your mere presence, his eyes always seemed to drift towards you much to his annoyance.

His gaze felt heavy as it dragged from the shoes you'd worn to the hairstyle you'd done. Your outfit consisted of a maroon tight dress that had ended just below your knees, a teasing slit running just a little further up your left side, just enough to make someone want to see more.

Your lips were a similar shade of maroon as you smiled, depths forming on your cheeks that tugged at his heart, your hair done down and resting just below your shoulders.

You looked…you looked better than he could even describe.

Beautiful would be a word, but he thinks it underwhelms you.

Kitty was beside you in her black dress and her hair done down but his eyes couldn't stop drinking you in as if it was not enough for him.

He wanted something he shouldn't. He shouldn't be thinking about you right now the way he is.

He forced himself to look away, searching for someone else in the crowd.

He looked better than he should and you hated the way your eyes moved to the dip between his throat and shirt.

Gosh that's such an ugly fucking colour you thought yet you felt fainter as your eyes scanned the way his hair was parted, something you knew only he could pull off. Some loose strands sat on his forehead and you hated the way you felt your legs almost give up in these tight heels as you took in the way the blazer fit his broad shoulders.

Fuck he looked good.

You looked at him, observing him scanning the crowd as he disappeared away.

"Let's get this party started!" Kitty said excitedly to which you lightly laughed,

"Kitty it's already started, we are already like forty minutes late because of a certain someone but sure! Love the enthusiasm! Woo!" You chuckled as you saw her excitement bubble down and then laughing along with you.

"Let's go then girls! The best place at a party, the bar!" Q threw his arms around both your shoulders as he sloshed himself between you, now pulling you towards the bar.

The bartender served up five mocktails which you thought were too beautiful looking to be drank but you raised a toast,

"Here's to meeting new people and ending our bitchless eras!" You toasted as you giggled which was followed by the rest clinking their respective glasses onto yours as you took a sip.

"Guys,I have something." Florian spoke as he pulled a flask from his blazer and your eyes widened at the sight, knowing what it was.

"Oh My God! No way… now you're the real one for this." You said as he winked at you and opened the flask, the smell already indicating what it was as he poured in a bit into yours and his.

"Ohh me too! Me too!" Kitty said as she pushed her glass towards him and he poured in hers as well.

"The last for the best." Florian spoke as he poured it in Q's drink which made him look away and you smirked as you saw him almost blush.

"Now this is a real toast." You finally clinked your drinks for the last time, now taking in a sip, wincing yet loving the bitter taste that contrasted well with the sweetness of the cocktail.

"By the way, Y/N, I don't think you're ever going to be able to meet new people." Kitty spoke which made you turn to her in confusion.

"I mean come on, you won't be able to meet new people because you already are into someone." She continued and now looked towards Q, him nodding in agreement as you still looked in confusion.

"Oh please, don't look like a lost puppy now, we all saw the way you basically bore your eyes into Min ho as soon as you saw him like a hungry vulture or something." Q said which made Florian chuckle and you only glared at his words as though looks could kill.

"You don't plan a murder out loud now do you?" You defended yourself as Kitty rolled her eyes,

"More like you'd kill anyone who'd dare even hurt a fraction of his hair." Kitty said to which now both Florian and Q nodded, feeling betrayal as you looked at Florian, thinking he'd been on your side to which he only raised his hands in his defense.

"Look, Y/N, maybe you don't see it, but you definitely go past the so called hate line you both have." He said as he knew you surely felt more for him than the passive aggressive persona you showed when he was around.

"After all they do say the lines between love and hate tend to blur." Kitty said as she took a sip of her drink and you only scoffed, ready to reply saying you knew where you stood and you were gladly under the hate side, despising Min ho because of his unbearable personality that would make you so mad.

So mad you'd want to punch his pretty face at times.

"Uh oh." Q said suddenly as his eyes caught a sight that he wished wouldn't have but they quickly widened when he realised you were literally right next to him and probably heard him.

Naturally your eyes moved to where he was looking, and oh how you wished you also didn't see what you just saw but for completely different reasons that you couldn't put a finger on at the time being.

Minho stood next to Madison as he whispered something into her ears, which made her laugh, you saw the way his arm was wrapped around her waist, hiding her close to him.

You felt like throwing up as your stomach recoil and churn, moving your eyes, not wanting to think more of this than you should. But it seemed as though it was impossible as the image replayed in your mind.

You felt the tension in the air when your face twisted bitterly, noticing your friends also tensing up and felt guilty for suddenly changing the cheerful mood.

"Guys come one now, I don't care, now go and have fun!" You reassured them as they looked at you skeptically.

"Listen, he can go and fuck around with whoever he wants, I really don't care. We shouldn't let this ruin our moods. Now go." You bit on your tongue as put on a tight smile, no usual dimples peaking, a sign it was fake.

Hearing the firmer tone at the end, Q and Florian nodded as they held hands "Okay then, find us when you need us okay?"

Q said as you just mindlessly nodded and they also moved into the flow of the crowd.

Kitty still looked at you skeptically but you just smiled at her, now a genuine one telling her to go on and finish her agenda of meeting new people.

At least one of you seemed ready to move on.

"Thank you." You heard a voice suddenly speak up from beside you as you sat nursing the cocktail in your hands, it's coolness relieving the warmth your body felt.

"Oh someone with manners, I like that." You said putting down your drink, deciding that if he can fuck around when he wants, who were you to not as well.

The guy next to you turns towards you, him taking in your figure, a smirk forming on his face as he realised who you were.

"I'm Geon." He said to which you smiled.

"Y/N." You spoke up to which he chuckled which made you a bit confused,

"Oh I know." You raised an eyebrow at his words,

"It's an honor to have the hottest girl here talking to me." He said with a grin as you then lifted your drink to take another sip, after which you giggled at his words, even though you didn't think you would have even been phased if it weren't for the alcohol now slowly flowing in your system.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more." You leaned in closer to him with a smug smile, biting your lip lightly to which you think again, this probably wouldn't be happening right now if it weren't for the liquid courage or your mess of an emotional baggage.

This whole spectacle was being seen by someone who'd otherwise think you were both already together. He rolled his eyes, looking away as he clicked his tongue, folding his arms and a scowl of both disgust and jealousy forming on his face.

Of course.

He thought looking back at the pair of Geon and you.

"I think she's better than all the other girls, even Yuri, people say she's the prettiest but don't realize that they are wrong. And Kitty next to you looks so underwhelming but both of them are nothing but plain next to you."

And despite you starting to feel more tipsy, you controlled the urge to just flip him off.

Instead you leaned in closer, raising one hand and cupping his face, bringing your face near his ear, as though you'd whisper about how he was definitely right, a light smile forming on his face.

That's what he thought at least.

Chuckling lowly, you whispered sweetly,

"You know sweety, what type of men I absolutely despise?"

You briefly made eye contact with him when he looked down at you from the corner of his eye.

"The ones who bring women down in hopes of getting into my pants and thinking that will actually work."

You trailed your hand down his neck, fingers lightly touching, he gulped as he shivered under your touch, the grin forming on his face long gone when he heard the venom lacing your tone.

"Let alone the fact that they are my best friends, and trust me, if I wanted to I'd punch the shit out of you right now but,listen to me carefully."

You rested your hand on his collarbone,

"No girl is meant for your judging pleasure especially not for undeserving dickheads like you and if you dare talk to me again, trust me, I can do much worse than you can think."

You leaned back and patted his chest, grinning widely, but your eyes said a completely different story.

"Now. Fuck off."

And fuck off he did as he swallowed nervously, turning around and moving into the crazy crowd,mumbling something under his breath, you not really caring to pay attention to his words as you sighed out, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.

Men are nothing but disappointment, what did I even expect ?

"Hey guess what!- what happened to you?" Kitty said as she suddenly appeared from your right side making you surprised but you smiled at her reassuringly, not wanting her to know what that jerk said for obvious reasons.

"Oh it's nothing, it's getting noisy that's all." Kitty didn't seem convinced at all because she did spot you talking to Geon, not wanting to interrupt when he saw you whispering something to him,

Huh so she really was serious about the whole meeting new people thing?

But when he walked away looking a little paler, she figured it was not exactly what it looked like, deciding that she should intervene now.

"Oh-kay but you know what, I just…" You now looked forward your back facing the bar as you placed your elbows on the counter, leaning onto them, raising an eyebrow at her for her to continue,

"I am glad I came here, I'm glad we all did, I'm happy, for once and it feels so…so good to be happy with you guys who I didn't think would even be my friends."

She said smiling at you, her sitting down next to your stool, and you turned your neck, looking at her now,

You smiled, finally a genuine one and it showed when your dimples showed,

"I'm glad I met you guys as well." You told her and just as she was about to say something, her eyes trailed towards your left, narrowing to make sure she was seeing right.

She froze when she saw you look at her, naturally wanting to see what made her look the way she was looking right now.

"Uh! Well look you know I'm happy you…uh well you agreed to come here!" She pulled your shoulders a little forcefully, the rotating barstool moving and making you now face her.

You looked perplexed at her behaviour, especially how she almost knocked you out but she just smiled at you, a little too forcefully.

"I just think you should know you deserve better than you think and even if it's not-"

"Kitty."

You called out to her, stopping her rambling, moving your hands up from off your shoulders.

"What's got you so…so nervous all of a sudden?" You questioned seeing her eyes still fixated behind you, her hand stopping you again from turning around.

"I just don't think you should see this. Really." She swallowed nervously and you waved her off,

"It's not that deep Kitty chill." You said but how you wished you'd listen to her.

You went rigid, seeing the sight now in front of you and clenched your jaw.

There was Minho in all his glory, kissing, no more like passionately making out with none other than Madison.

He had his arms around her waist as she played with his hair, and you could see her smile into the kiss. His mouth moved from her lips to her jawline and you watched her giggle as he seemed to be whispering something that made her laugh only more.

Fuck.

Why did it feel like someone just ripped your heart out and smashed it right in front of you with their bare hands?

You turned towards the bar, squeezing your eyes shut, holding your head in your hands as you felt the pounding in it get harder.

You gulped harshly trying to squeeze the image out of your brain,

"Y/N." Kitty put her hand on your shoulder, her warm touch contrasting the coldness you felt.

"Ah, I should have listened to you." You laughed but it held no humour. You could feel your emotions go all over the place as you replayed everything you'd seen till now.

Both of them laughing together, him looking at her as if she was the only on there, him focusing on her as if she was the only one there, him making out with her as if she'd slip away from his hands.

"You know what maybe I just need a little drink." You raised your hand up calling for the bartender and asking for two cocktails.

You put your hand out to Kitty expectedly, her frowning at the way you tried to act as if it was all right but she could see the unshed tears on your lash line.

Before she could say anything, you asked her quickly,

"Where's that whisky Florian gave you?" Talking about the flask she'd been hiding in her purse that was given to her by Florian.

"Y/N, you can't just drink away your emotions like this, you can't even handle alcohol-"

"Kitty, I'll be fine, just…just give it to me please?"

She sighed, she knew about your tendency to avoid talking about your feelings. She just opened up her purse and removed the flask just as the bartender served the drinks.

You took it from her and poured a questionable amount but you didn't really care at the moment, wanting to feel the high rather than the heaviness you currently felt creeping in your chest.

Raising a toast to yourself, you grinned up at Kitty, a sorrowness that only made her feel more and more sympathic for you.

"Here's to the most unluckiest person at the moment, me!"

That was now half an hour ago, and here you were now wrapped tightly around the very person who'd made you feel miserable in the first place.

"You know it's not even his fault. We don't even like each other. I'm pretty sure he hates me but why the fuck does it hurt so bad?" You whined as you pulled away from the supposed stranger's, attractive one at least, body and stood up on your own.

You pushed his arms away from you and you almost stumbles but held one hand out when he tried to hold you again to prevent you from falling,

"Y/N you'll fall-"

"No, I'm fine, I swear. I don't even know why I just dumped that weird emotional baggage onto you, sorry."

"Thank you anyways, for you know saving me from breaking my own face right there, if you want me to repay you, just come to Chemistry class first period on Monday!"

You stepped away from him and trying to not cry because no matter how drunk you were you didn't want to cry over some stupid boy.

Minho stood there, his eyes downcast as he remembered the look on your face, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.

How do I even begin ?

READ PART TWO HERE !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is appreciated hehe :D 💗

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pyreo · 16 days

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I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #long post #yeah im sorry dungeon meshi good i'm posting through it

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lokideservesahug · 18 days

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Always that good?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-Pairings: Charles Leclerc x gn! (I think) reader, Arthur Leclerc x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Swearing some French but I didn't use translate so it's probably all wrong. One mention of 'the deed' but it's brief. Brief mentions of drinking/being tipsy. I'm sorry if you have a pizza/garlic bread allergy😔

Notes: Its white fast paced and I'm not as happy with this peice as I have been wit others but here we go... 1/4 SMAU 3/4 writing so sorry if that's not your thing. Also I don't think I wrote this with anything gender specific but pls tell me if it isn't gender neutral!

Summary: You've been best friends with Arthur for over a year now... so why does his brother look so good?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

For a man who supposedly strictly sticks to his diet, Charles was all to eager to get his hands on the greasy concoctions you brought with you. He also didn't seem to dislike spending the evening as just the two of you. Neither did you but part of that was because the garlic bread was to die for.

As the night progressed, the Monagasque brought some beers from the Arthur's fridge. Despite you chastising him for stealing from his brother, Charles said that his brother wouldn't care and the beers could always be replaced. So, the two of you began to drink some beer along with your dinner. At some point along the way, the television was turned on but you weren't paying attention to it at all. All you could focus on was Charles. The way his eyelashes fluttered to a close as he took another sip; the way his addams apple bobbed slightly at the same time.

If you could get away with it, you would would stare into his eyes forever. They were captivating. The same man you were admiring then begins to break the silence by starting up conversation.

"This is very nice pizza. Where is it from?" "The pizza parlour just down the road, they've only just stared allowing people to take meals to go though." You see him nod in understanding at your words.

Before you can find yourself staring at him any longer and risking making it wierd, you turn your attention towards the television. As the programme changes, you find yourself gasping. You can almost feel the man next to you giving you a curious look but as the title to your favourite television show comes on screen, he laughs in understanding.

This pulls your attention back to him and you ask "What?" He doesn't even miss a beat before he replies "Nothing. You're just endearing" he finishes the remark with a smile. You can feel your cheeks heat as you respond "Sorry. It's my favourite show" this pulls a laugh out of him. "No need to apologise chérie and like I said, it's sweet."

This causes you to look down. You turn and face the television but continue to speak to the man next to you. You occasionally turn to him whilst speaking. "It's been a very long time since I've seen this. Arthur pays for different channels to me and with everything these days, the rights shows are always swapping between people and channels."

You didn't catch Charles' smile drop but you did notice his slightly deflated sounding tone "I'm surprised you dont live with him then." This causes you to pause. I mean yeah Arthur's your best friend but that doesn't mean you should live together- especially not with your difference in music tastes. You'd probably strangle him for listening to the same, boring, simple songs for hours on end before you could even finish the first week of living together.

"Hm? Why would I do that" Your enquiry causes his brows to furrow and he asks "Oh. Are you not at that stage in your relationship yet." Relationship? What does he-? Oh no...Oh no... Oh no.

You simultaneously visibly deflate and start laughing after his words sink in. Charles, who clearly finds it nowhere near as funny asks "What. Why are you laughing?"

"You- you" Unable to finish your sentence without it ending in a fit of cackles, you laughing some more, take some deep breaths and clarify the source of your amusement. "Charles, Arthur and I aren't dating. You know that right?" His lips form an 'O' and he looks down almost embarrassed as he shakes his head.

"But I've heard you saying that you ahd a thing for a Lecle-" He stops and grins as you both come to the realisation of what he's saying. Now it's your turn to look down in embarrassment and his to start laughing.

"Shut up." Your words clearly hold no weight and when you find him looking at you, eyes gleaming. You find yourself falling for him even more.

"So Chérie...you have a thing for Leclercs?" His eyebrows wiggle and when you both split into bursts of laughter, you could tell have dreamed of a better way to spend your evening.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

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Thank you for reading! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Also my inbox is open if you ever have a request!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 one shot #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x gn!reader #charles leclerc x gender neutral reader

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

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"I don't know, Robbie. I mean, it's been years! Even if there ever was a 'spark' between us, it's probably long gone."

He doesn't look over at Robin as he says this, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers. They both know that he hasn't made a single mark on the paper in front of him since Robin burst into his house with her spare key and announced, "Eddie's coming to the wedding."

"Inside voice," he had chided her, even though April was at her friend's house doing a school project. Old habits die hard.

Plopping down next to him at the kitchen table, Robin had happily ignored him as she continued, "Lucas just called me, it's going to be a surprise for Dustin. Eddie's finishing the tour two days early, so he's coming straight from the airport. But he will be there, Steve!"

Trying his best not to show how his heart had started beating faster as soon as Robin had mentioned Eddie's name, Steve had shrugged nonchalantly. "That's nice, Robbie. Dustin will be over the moon."

"That's nice, Robbie." She repeated in a surprisingly good imitation of his tone. They definitely spent too much time together. "You can act indifferent all you want, Steve. I was there when you refused to leave the house for a whole week when Eddie went to LA, remember? I held your hair when you puked your guts out after drowning your sorrows when Eddie brought what's-his-face to Max and Lucas' wedding. You two belong together, Steve! You just had bad timing. You've never both been single at the same time - until now. That must mean something. Maybe he's not just coming for Dustin, that's all I'm saying."

Which had actually led them to discuss whether Steve should put them all out of their misery by finally growing a pair (Robin's words) or decide that whatever had been between them that summer, when Eddie had recovered from almost being eaten alive by demobats, was long gone (Steve's words).

"I beg to differ, Dingus. I saw the way he looked at you at our little 'Fuck Off Upside Down' anniversary party. He spilled his beer when you walked in the room, Steve. No one else did."

"He's clumsy. You know that. I'm surprised he never fell off the stage," Steve jokes. He's not sure who he's trying to convince, Robin or himself.

Robin's expression changes to something more serious as she puts her hand on top of his, still holding his red grading pen in a white-knuckled grip. "Steve, listen. I'm not saying you have to do anything. You and Eddie have been friends for almost twenty years. We've all been. You're not going to lose him no matter what you decide. But," and here she takes a deep breath, "I just want you to be happy, Steve. You deserve to be happy. And I know that you're not unhappy, I know that. You've got April and you've got me and you've got the kids, even though they're scattered all over the country. But I also know that you've never stopped imagining a future with him, have you?"

"He kissed me," Steve blurts out, and to Robin's credit, she doesn't react except for her hand on his to twitch in surprise. She makes a questioning sound in her throat, clearly waiting for more.

"The night before he left. We had this big going-away bash, remember?" She nods. "We all got pretty drunk after the kids left and you and Vicky had gone to sleep in the guest room and I had offered to sleep on the couch so Eddie could have my bed. His back was still bothering him and he had a long drive ahead of him the next day. But he insisted on sharing and I was too drunk and tired to argue. The next morning he got up very early, probably thinking I was still asleep when he got dressed and left. Only he didn't leave. At least not right away. He came over to the bed and kissed me. On the mouth. And he said, 'You'll always be my almost, Stevie.'"

Robin looks at him with wide eyes, and Steve thinks that maybe he should have told her sooner, that maybe he violated some code between them because they tell each other everything. But something about this morning had felt, well, almost sacred in a way. As if putting it into words would make it less so.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Robbie. I just..."

"You had to keep it to yourself so it would always be the one dream you could turn to?" Robin suggests in a soft voice, and Steve wouldn't have said it like that, but she's right. Every date that didn't feel right, every relationship that went down the drain, hell, even when his marriage imploded on him, he thought of that one kiss and dreamed of a life where Eddie would have stayed. Or where Steve had followed him.

"Oh Dingus." Suddenly, Robin's arms wrapped around him in a hug, and it wasn't until he saw the wetness on her shirt that he realized he was crying. "I can't promise you it'll work, but I really think you should talk to him. Your life doesn't end at 40, Steve. You can still have the future you've always dreamed of."

Steve nods against her shoulder, tightening his grip on the best thing that has ever happened to him besides April.

Dustin and El's wedding is a small affair, just family and close friends, which is basically the same in their group.

Steve tries his best not to show his inner turmoil and mostly succeeds. There are handshakes that turn into tight hugs, hellos that turn into stories about kids and grandkids, neighbors, vacations, jobs, life. It's great to see everyone. It also helps distract him from the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in his stomach for over a week now.

It works until everyone is about to take their seats and Eddie still hasn't shown up. He's supposed to be one of Dustin's groomsmen, along with Lucas and Mike and Will, while Steve is actually Dustin's best man. He only cried a little when Dustin asked him to.

Just as the officiant is ready to start without him, the heavy double doors open and Eddie walks in like Aragorn into Helm's Deep (Dustin insisted that Steve watch the movies if he didn't want to read the books, and Steve may have thought of Eddie more than once while watching Aragorn, sue him).

He rushes to his spot next to the other groomsmen, ruffles Dustin's hair as he passes him, and mumbles, "Sorry, shrimp, the airport lost my luggage." Then his eyes fall on Steve and he freezes for a moment before giving him a bright, dimpled smile. "Hey, Stevie," he whispers before stepping to the end of the line of groomsmen.

Steve is glad that Hopper is recording the whole ceremony, because he doesn't hear a thing that's being said.

Later, everyone gathers in the dining room and Hopper and Claudia each give a heartfelt speech before it's Steve's turn. He has everyone toast to Dustin and El's future, because while the past may have brought them together, it's the future that belongs to them and their love. He forces himself not to look at Eddie as he says this, knowing that his face would give away his thoughts.

And then Eddie stands up to say a few words as well, something no one expected him to do.

"I've known Dustin for 20 years now, and the only time I ever doubted that he was a genius was when he let El go without a fight. But you know what? I was wrong. Dustin and El may have taken the scenic route to get here," Eddie tells the guests, "but sometimes that's the best way to get somewhere. If you're willing to take the long and winding road, the road less traveled, as Frost would say, you know that whatever's at the other end is worth it."

Steve desperately wants to believe that Eddie is not just talking about Dustin and El, but he doesn't even look at Steve when he says that. He just sits down again next to Robin at the table right next to the one where Steve is sitting with Dustin and El and their parents, because Steve is part of the family, too, as Claudia had pointed out.

The rest of the evening is kind of a blur until everyone gets up to go to the ballroom where the dance floor has been set up. Dustin and El open with their first dance, "You and Me" by Lifehouse, and Steve has never been prouder of his little brother as he watches him lead El across the dance floor with the biggest, toothiest smile on his face.

"They've come a long way, huh?" says a voice next to him and Steve doesn't have to turn around to know it's Eddie.

"Yeah. I'm glad they made it." Steve agrees, his eyes never leaving the dancing couple. More and more people are joining them now, and Steve can feel the fond smile on his face grow.

Eddie's hand rests on his arm as he steps around Steve to face him. He extends his other hand to Steve, palm up, and asks, "May I have the pleasure of this dance with you?"

As if Steve could ever say no to Eddie.

Just as they step onto the dance floor, "You and Me" fades out and the next song begins. It's "Unchained Melody" and Steve suspects that Robin had a hand in it. It's the song Steve listened to a lot after Eddie left and she once complained that he ruined the song for her. Apparently not enough to put it on the playlist when he and Eddie hit the dance floor.

"I always kind of liked that song," Eddie tells him, and Steve snorts. "No, really! It's not really metal, but I don't know. I just feel it, you know? It's real." Eddie explains, veering close to rambling territory.

"Is that so?" Steve has to ask as he slowly sways, his hand in Eddie's and his arm wrapped around Eddie's waist.

Eddie hums quietly in agreement. "Back in '86, when I was trying to settle down in LA, I used to listen to it for hours." Eddie admits quietly and Steve's heart is suddenly in his throat. "I felt every single word and every single word made me think about what I was leaving behind."

"Eddie," Steve begins, only to be gently silenced by Eddie's finger against his lips.

"Please, Stevie, I have to say this now or I never will. So please, just listen, yeah?"

Steve crosses his eyes to look pointedly at Eddie's finger against his lips before looking back up at Eddie, who snorts at the gesture. "Brat," he teases, taking his finger away.

"Okay, I'm listening," Steve tells him, and mimics zipping his lips.

Eddie's eyes sparkle with amusement and affection, and something deeper. Something that makes the seeds of hope in Steve's chest tentatively open and reach for their sun.

"Stevie, sweetheart, you certainly know... I mean, you must know that I..." Eddie rambles and Steve has never seen him so lost for words. He doesn't say anything, but he brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses Eddie's in silent reassurance.

Eddie's eyes find his and the expression in them is so unbearably soft that Steve almost has to look away. No one has ever looked at him like that before. "You were always the one who got away, Steve. My almost. Even when I was with other people, you were there. On every stage, in every hotel room, on every stretch of highway, you were there. And I almost told myself it just wasn't meant to be. I had you as a friend and that was a gift I never thought I would have, I shouldn't be greedy and ask for more."

He takes a deep breath, like he's steeling himself, gathering every ounce of that incredible courage Steve has seen time and time again, even as Eddie keeps insisting he's a coward. Steve knows better, and Eddie's next words prove him right once again.

"But the funny thing is, it never stopped me from hoping for a future with you."

They stop dancing, if you can call what they were doing dancing, and look at each other, eyes searching for answers. For reasons to hope.

Steve is the first to break the silence, a soft grin on his face. "May I speak now?"

That makes Eddie laugh softly and he nods.

"Is this what you want? A future with me? Because that means a future with a middle school teacher with a little pet tornado who's currently staying with her mom. You have to mean it for her as much as you mean it for me. This means being all in, Eddie."

Steve hates that he has to say this, that he can't just fall into Eddie's arms and kiss him senseless. But Eddie needs to know what a future with Steve means. If he wasn't sure he wanted that kind of future, then they couldn't have one together. At least not the way they both wanted it.

Eddie cupped Steve's cheek in his hand, his smile growing with every blink of his chocolate eyes. "Steve, I know who you are. I know what it would mean to be with you, and I want it so much that I can barely stand another day without it. I love your little pet Tornado, she's adorable and funny and she has great taste in music. No idea where she got that from, though," Eddie teases before sobering up. "I want to be a family. This tour was our last for at least two years. The guys need a break and so do I. And after that, we don't know yet, but whatever it is, it will be something we agree on together. You and me and April."

Maybe Steve should ask more questions, be more cautious. But he's waited twenty years for this, and he can't wait another second to finally kiss the man he's always been in love with.

He's ready for his future to begin.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #day 12 #love is the hope for a future together #my writing

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cherryfennec · 2 months

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So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-

Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!

This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:

General headcanons;

This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:

Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.

The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.

Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;

While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.

In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.

Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.

There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.

In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.

Few bonus headcanons!

I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!

#super mario #mario bros #smb #mario #luigi #myart #mar10 #mar10day #super mario bros #mydesigns

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picaroroboto · 3 months

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For the past couple days, I've been unfortunately cursed with thinking about Zenos yae Galvus. I don't even particularly like him - not that I dislike him either, Zenosfuckers you can put your scythes down - but it seems to me like a lot of the fandom either greatly misunderstands him, or doesn't even care to try to understand him, which from an objective standpoint as someone who cares deeply about writing in video games kind of pisses me off. But I'm more pissed about the fact that I'm apparently going to keep thinking about this issue until I actually write a character analysis of him.

Q: "But, what even is there to analyze with him? Isn't he all about wanting to fight the WoL and nothing else?"

Well, you wouldn't be wrong with saying that. That motivation is at the forefront of his character, and even if you look closer, everything about him comes back to either "violence" or "lack of understanding of others". But there are more meaningful sides to his deceptively simple character. That question of meaning is what I really want to look into - what does his character mean, what symbolic or thematic role does he play in this story?

Q: "Better question: why are you posting this on your art blog/Fate meta sideblog?"

Good question, with a stupid answer: I have all of 6 followers on my FF14 sideblog, and around 150 here. Let's go under the cut so they don't have to read a wall of text, unless they want to.

When you look at and compare FF14's villains, you can see a very clear change, no doubts thanks to the change in main writers. ARR Gaius and Thordan are more or less two-bit villains - Gaius's memeable iconic Praetorium speech gives us insight into how fascists try to justify themselves but little into Gaius's actual personality, while all Thordan gets as far as depth of character is an NPC in a sidequest remarking that he wasn't always a bad person and was probably doing what he thought best for his nation. Nidhogg is a little more understandable, since revenge is a relatable motivation to anyone who's been hurt by others. In Stormblood, Zenos and Yotsuyu are both presented as deserving of pity even as they do terrible things. Come Shadowbringers and Endwalker though, the story takes a greater interest on why villains like Emet-Selch and Elidibus do the things they do, and the player is allowed more options to try to understand them and see how similar they are to the WoL. Hell, Hermes and the Endsinger are barely "villains" at all, with the level of sympathy the story shows them.

What I'm getting to here is that Zenos, with half his arc in Stormblood and the rest in Endwalker, is sort of caught in the middle of this shift. He played the role of the rival character in Stormblood really well, but come Endwalker, he's standing on a stage full of heroes and villains with grand causes and deep motivations, as the guy whose sole motivation is fighting for pleasure.

It seems he's not unaware of this contrast himself - when Jullus confronts him for ruining Garlemald for no good reason, he retorts with "Would you be happier had I a good reason?" Zenos makes no attempt to justify his own actions and doesn't care that his reason seems incomprehensible and unforgivable to others. Yet in that same cutscene Alisaie hits him with the fact that if he keeps living solely for pleasure, he'll die alone. When next we see Zenos, he's alone at the Royal Menagerie waxing philosophical about what he really sought in the battle with the WoL.

See, what really motivates Zenos isn't just the thrill of battle - this guy has gotten Battle High and the joy of human connection confused. Really.

Even before he gets so perturbed by the idea of dying alone, there's other suggestions, like his proposal of friendship to the WoL when they fought in Stormblood, and then later his dying words in which he explains that he never understood others - at his core, he's just lonely. I know there's an official side story that tells it, but you don't need to know the exact details to glean that he had some sort of tragic backstory. Sad, but not a surprise, considering he's the prince of the Garlean Empire, raised to take the throne and continue the Empire's legacy of violence.

At his core, he's a very lonely person, but also a thing of violence, raised using violent methods for the purpose of causing more violence. Violence is how he lives and breathes - the only way he gets any sort of connection with others in a world of hurting and being hurt is the brief connection warriors dueling as equals can sometimes find. Don't deny that this sort of connection exists - FF14 is great at making fights that are both fun and tell a story. Hence, why he goes crazy for the WoL, but also refers to them as "friend". In their fights, he senses (or thinks he senses) similarity between him and them. Beneath all the madness is a pure, genuine joy in seeing the self reflected in the other...but he also instantly gets on the train to projection-town, population Zenos, and assumes the WoL is exactly like him, ignoring or failing to notice that they also fight for deeper meanings. The worst part is, he doesn't even notice that what he's actually seeking in fighting them is connection until Alisaie's aforementioned callout.

So he goes and angsts for a while, then turns into a dragon again and flies across the universe to help us kick the Endsinger's tail feathers, then issues his challenge for that duel he'd been longing for. But what's changed is that he starts with a question - "Such pleasures you sought for their own sake, and for no other reason, is that not so?". Dying after the duel, he's full of questions too: "Was your life a gift or a burden? Did you find fulfillment?" Alisaie's suggestion that he'd die alone actually spurred him to realize what he actually sought in the WoL, and now he's asking all these questions in an attempt to, for the first time in his life, genuinely connect with another human being.

The questions aren't important just because they're a sign of how Zenos has changed in Endwalker - they're actually the thematic heart of Endwalker! ARR may have had "Answers" as it's theme, but EW is the expac of questions. Namely the biggest question of all: What is the meaning of life? Different characters have different answers to that, leading to the grand-scale symbolic conflict being the Endsinger's despair - her belief that there is no meaning in life - versus whatever reasons the WoL chooses to live for, left, as always, up to player interpretation.

When you look deeper, Zenos isn't actually as out-of-place in the symbolic conflict as he first seems. His depressed worldview - that metaphor about drowning in a swamp again - seems to align with the Endsinger's view about life being meaningless. But he aids the WoL in defeating her. In that way he serves as part of the answer to her question about the meaning of life. He may have resented life at times, but he still found meaning in chasing pleasure. Not the strongest or most beautiful reason to deny oblivion, perhaps, but it did enable him to help the WoL triumph. I think of Zenos's philosophy as being connected to the concept of "Amor Fati"...largely because this quote explaining it sounds like something he'd say, or at least agree with on some level:

"and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed."

So he does have a meaningful role in Endwalker, as the "Amor Fati" against the Endsinger's "Memento Mori". I think that in this the story shows that his reason for living, while somewhat shallow, is not necessarily a morally wrong thing in and of itself (setting aside for a second all the people he hurt in his pursuit of that). It's just that, since it is a lonely pursuit that denies everything except for his target, it still feels empty. The core of the counterargument against the Endsinger's despair is that both pleasure and fulfillment are necessary to live a meaningful life in a meaningless universe, and that's why Zenos is here in Endwalker. Why he even exists in the story in the first place.

Even if you're one of the people who deeply hates Zenos...well, you probably wouldn't have read this whole thing if you did, but I still think it's important to read into characters you dislike, because every character in a story is written for a reason. Plus, trying to understand even their worst enemies is one of the WoL's key traits as of ShB and EW. With his last breaths, Zenos was trying to understand the WoL too - carrying this understanding of him with you as we move into our next adventures is the least you can do for your "friend".

#ff14 #ffxiv #zenos yae galvus #zenos viator galvus #endwalker #ffxiv meta #endwalker spoilers #meta posting on my art blog #god why did i spend my afternoon on this all this proves is that I need to be put in an English class again purely for enrichment purposes

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alexa-fika · 1 month

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I've finally reached the point in the anime where the cross guild is formed and addicted🙌

I don't mihawk wouldn't even think about letting buggy near child!reader, but what if reader snuck off to one of buggys shows and got caught by crocodile and/or mihawk?

Circus Escapade ( Cross guild x Gn!Dracule!child!Reader)

A/N Finished my essay ya’ll!! So I made this for you guys, sorry it took so long anon! Also idk how I feel about it, no idea why but the first word that comes to mind is surreal?

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which means Reader in Japanese.

Dividers by @/saradika

Dokucha knew that what they were doing was likely to get them in trouble not only with their dad but their uncle would not be the happiest either

But they just wanted one small peek of the show, a small peek at what happened behind the tarp; that’s all they wanted

They grin, popping their head slowly over their hiding spot and watching as the different acts went about performing

The stage was filled with different acts performing, each one seemingly more outrageous than the other; some were dangerous, some were more comedic, and a few even seemed a bit off to the audience…but that was the point; it’s a circus after all

A new act has now taken the center stage, the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn as Buggy himself came out, using his devil fruit ability to perform various tricks

They grin, giggling at his comedic actions, watching enthralled as the different body parts move around independently

Buggy’s comedic act continued; his body parts continued moving all around, one arm reaching over, picking at his teeth, and one of his legs would do a silly little kick before each body part would come together again.

His act was rather amusing, and as the act reached his peak, he came over to the podium, extending his arms toward the audience

“Hahaha!! Applause, Applause, Applause!!,” he screamed, waving his arms around, trying to get the audience to clap for him

They laughed along with the audience, gleefully enjoying the act until they felt something lift them up

They squeak as they suddenly are brought right up to the ringmaster himself

“Well, looks like we have a break-in!” Buggy laughs but stills as he takes a closer look at them

“W-Wait, you’re Mihawk’s-

“Clown.”

Everyone turns their head at the sudden entrance of the ex-warlords; the circus growing eerily quiet, everyone too afraid to move a muscle in fear of angering the duo more

“Buggy…” Mihawk seethes, his eyebrows knit together, his tone of voice dangerously eery

Crocodile, while maintaining his usual stoic expression, holds back a low grow

Buggy’s expression changed when he saw the two enter, his body parts freezing into place, his eyes widening slightly as he gulped, his voice growing quieter as he spoke

“Cro-Crocodile, Mihawk…”

Buggy gulped, taking a few steps back as he spoke, “I ca- I can explain!”

“Do you think I care for explanations?” Mihawk glares at Buggy, his gaze becoming sharp; he takes a step closer

“W-Wait, I swear I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t bring them here!”

“Your hand on them tells a different story,” he growls, ripping way the hand from Dokucha and embracing them

“Tha-I swear I can explain. I didn’t know.”

“Dokucha.”

They flinch at their father's sharp tone, and although they were aware that the anger was not directed at them, they were also going to get one hell of a scolding

“Go to your room; I will come to talk to you after I'm done with him.”

They nod

“Sorry Papa”

“Now you,” Mihawk said coldly, looking at Buggy, who just stood there, sweating profusely, his entire body shaking in fear as the duo advanced on him.

“H-Hey, I'm sure we can talk this out.”

The last thing Dokucha heard as they flew out of the tent was the cries of the mercy of the crown; they flinched at the sound

“Oops…”

Did buggy probably die? Yeah, is everything Dokusha said to that oops? Yeah cause their a menace

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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thyrinea · 1 month

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Till - An Alien Stage analysis

Vivinos just dropped the teaser for Round 6. And after watching it a couple of times, I feel like I can finally understand why people were telling that this round is potentially the most emotional one yet. So here are my thought about Till as a character, and what we might expect from him in the upcoming Round. But before you go on and start reading, I want to make two quick disclaimers:

My native language is not english and sometimes I might make some mistakes, and I'm sorry for that. I'll try to make everything as cohesive as possible on this post so we don't have any miscommunication.

In the analysis, there will be a small mention of suicidal thoughts and a whole section on human experiments. If you're uncomfortable with those topics, please don't continue.

If you're ok with everything, thank you for continuing and I hope you have a good read! (Also, if you want to add something please feel free to chat with me! I love to see more theories and takes on everything)

Let's start this analysis from the very beginning, or at least the first event that we know of in regard of Till: his time at the adoption center.

(Timestamp: 00:22 - 00:24 - Teaser)

From what I gathered, this scene was first seen as a sneak peek from Vivinos' patreon and it's most likely one of, if not the very first time both of them - Till and Ivan - has seen each other. As a "troubled" kid, it's dificult to catch the eyes of someone and make them willing to have you, and seeing the discounts placed on his captivity window, we can only assume that he stayed in the adoption center for quite a while now. It's no wonder that Till is watching with awe as Ivan is being escorted away: he probably got adopted and is leaving the establishment to live somewhere else, leaving the rest only to hope to be the next chosen one. We all know that in reality, being adopted by the aliens is not a synonym to having a good life in this scenario. But for a child who has been locked in this tiny room for possibly weeks, still not knowing how society works for them, it's a dream to finally be able to get out and possibly be loved by their adopted "family". So imagine Till finally getting out of this place, after all he went through there - being rejected, seen as an unwanted individual - only to get trapped in an even worse scenario: Being used as a human experiment.

(Timestamp: 00:06, 00:11, 00:16, 00:19 - Teaser)

We can see those images are depicting something that happened after the adoption center because he's older now. We don't know how much time he had to experience those events, but if we go back to Round 2, there are some instances where he is far younger and can be seen with green stickers similar to the ones on his neck shown in the 4th image. Not only that, even on his performance on Round 2, we can see them on display. So there is a chance that he had to deal with all of this for years. Yes, he was not alone during everything, but we don't know what happened to everyone who was in this same scenario. All we know is that the faces seen on the panel during the teaser, was never once seen again.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

It even seems that one has perished in one of the images shown in the teaser. For all we know, everyone but Till might be dead by the time Alien Stage begins for the main cast... And living in fear not knowing if you're going to be the next one to die during an experiment is a really terrifying reality he probably had to face. And yet, during all that, he even had to go to Anakt garden to train to become a singer, and possibly go to Alien stage.

(Timestamp: 00:57 - Round 2)

At least, somewhere around his time on Anakt garden, he found something worth living for: Mizi. She became his beacon of light. We don't know what happened but knowing Mizi's character, she has probably shown him what happiness looks like, maybe became the first one to interact with him and show him he's someone. Not a product, not an experiment, but an individual. And he really wanted to continue having this feeling again. To be happy, just like her, with her. This admiration that flourished from him is most likely what made this crush Till has for her blossom. It's kind of an unhealthy dependancy if we put the spotlight on this relationship, he would even go as far as refuse to escape from everything with ivan - who is shown to be the only other person who interacts with him, that he considers a friend - and have freedom if she's not present. It's as if he doesn't know if he can truly be happy if she's not around. I'll make another analysis on Ivan and Till's relationship on the kindergarden once Round 6 goes live. Trust me, if I start talking about them here, I would literally not shut up and the analysis would have another 1000 words. But for now I really want to emphasize how both are seen as "weirdos", and started talking more because they really only had each other. Despite the differences and the bickering, Till holds Ivan close to him as well.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

And now, We're on Round 6: Where Till has nothing to fight for. His whole life was purely a tragedy - he had seen and experienced some of the worst things that a human could go through in this world, and despite trying his best to fight against all odds, he's back on square one. He's been defeated. Mizi is missing, and in his eyes, possibly dead. And now he is going against his childhood friend, literally the only person he has left, on a battle where he knows and only one will get out alive. I won't be surprised if in the beginning he'll be willing to sacrifice himself for Ivan to win and live. Through the whole teaser, the voice singing in the background is muffled. Till is so out of it that he's not able to realize what's going on, even the shots he's in is in pure black, as if nothing around him matters anymore to him. That is, until the voice in the end gets clearer and we can finally see the stage for the Round. Can't wait to see what we have in store on April 5th. My theory is that this might be a 2 pov video, and later we'll get to know more about Ivan's take on everything. Specially because finally he might be able to make Till see him for once. Who's going to die? I hope no one. But we're talking about Vivinos... We can expect anything on this project. All I know is that I might die if we get some parallel to the meteor shower scene shown in black sorrow.

#alien stage #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alien stage mizi #vivinos #I am so normal about Till yall #I might die of anticipation before round 6 airs

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inkelea · 5 months

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cherry flavored problems! ✭

pairing: idol!yang jeongin x nonidol!gn!reader

synopsis: it’s hard to be affectionate with your boyfriend in public, as there is always the doubt of being observed.

genre: fluff, some angst. drabble.

warnings: self conscious thoughts, kissing.

word count: 0.5k

a/n: jeongin has been serving so hard this cb i couldn’t keep myself from writing for him. this is basically a copy-pasted scene from nevertheless (pls tell me you’ve watched it), hope you enjoy<3

hiding was something you did very well, however, you didn’t think you would end up needing to hide your relationship with your boyfriend.

dating an idol is… complicated at best. with time, it has become easier to cover the nature of your relationship, the mentality of hiding easily infiltrating your brain. and that’s why you are asking yourself what the hell is yang jeongin doing talking to you in the middle of campus.

he had caught you going down the stairs, which were very unconventionally situated in a very visible place, so why was he here?

“what are you doing? do you want to die from your manager’s wrath?”

he laughs, a dimple appears on his cheek and his hand runs through his hair. you can’t help but smile too. the lollipop on his other hand is hanging right to his leg, which makes you afraid that it’s going to stain the surely very expensive jeans your boyfriend is wearing.

“what flavor is that?”

his eyes lock with yours, not caring slightly about the possibility of paparazzis being around. after licking the lollipop one more time, his hand rests on the railing behind you. before you know it his lips are on yours and you can feel the candy flavor on them. is it cherry or strawberry? without giving yourself much more time to discover it, you push him back by his chest and turn completely to the other side, hand covering your mouth.

when you turn again, he is already looking at you, a small smile on and head getting closer to you.

“did you get the flavor?”

his thumb goes over your lower lip, where sugar from the candy was left. feeling suddenly shy, you look down, feeling too embarrassed for no reason.

doubs cloud your mind and anxiety takes over your body. at the end of the day, you are only an university student. he could have chosen anyone he wanted, any other idol who had their fans at their feet from how pretty they look on stage. you are just a random person, and he is the boy named maknae on top. why was he even risking it all for you?

“anyone can see us innie.”

your voice is laced with sadness, regret even. he sighs and places his hand on your shoulder, shaking it slowly.

“i don’t care, i just want to be able to kiss you in public without feeling the guilt eating me up.”

swallowing down all your second thoughts, you hug him. his body is tense for a few seconds until you start playing with his hair, making him hum calmly.

smiling playfully, he kisses you once again. when you identify the cherry flavor in his lips, you smile into the kiss. his hand travels from your jaw to your neck, making circles on the surface. its weird, but honestly comforting. with your hand holding his arm, he feels at ease, the most carefree he has been in a very long time.

“fuck dating rumours.”

you laugh and leave a kiss on his hand. “fuck dating rumours indeed.”

@mochamvgz

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin fluff #i.n x reader #i.n fluff #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles

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sematarygirls · 2 months

Text

Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

part one

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,

word count : 4.5k words !

a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.

However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."

Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.

"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.

"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."

Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.

Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"

Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.

He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.

He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long

At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.

He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.

The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.

Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.

That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.

Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.

As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.

You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.

You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.

You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.

He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.

After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.

He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.

The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.

His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.

The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.

He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.

He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.

Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.

But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.

It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.

He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.

The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.

He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.

He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.

"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.

"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.

"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.

"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."

"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.

"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.

You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.

He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.

In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.

When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.

"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.

"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"

"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.

His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.

The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.

"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.

"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.

"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.

"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.

Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.

"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.

He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.

The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.

He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.

"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.

"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.

your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.

"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.

He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.

His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.

"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."

He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.

"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."

Yeah, right he thought.

He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.

Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.

He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.

"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"

You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!

"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.

"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.

Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.

"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."

"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.

"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."

His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.

"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."

"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.

"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."

He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.

"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."

He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.

"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.

He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.

"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."

tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,

#🎀#patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #the bowers gang #it 2017 #patrick x reader #patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader #henry bowers #victor criss #reginald huggins #belch huggins #it x reader #living dead girl #dark romance #dark themes

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