#Unlike Mario he does NOT want to be the first person someone calls when the world is on the line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

takalzuoom · 2 years

Note

Hi saw your requests are open so is it ok to request the first years being jealous of their s/o cuddling grim instead of them?

hello!

…whoops

okay, so, i started this in june and finally finished today. i have horrendous writers block where all my thoughts and ideas are just jumbled around and i just can’t write anything for the life of me. this isn’t my best work, but it is my work none the less and i managed to complete it in a creatively challenging time. so i hope you enjoy it ‼️

i love Deuce i swear, i just got bored with his part…😬

Ace

“Don't do that”

“Do what?”

“Coddle him”

“Oh, quiet Ace! He went through something very traumatic- leave him alone”

“Yeah! Leave me alone!”

“It was his fault! He knows not to pull anything on Vil! Cause when there's Vil, there's Rook!

“Who ended up chasing him around the school with his bow and arrow for 20 minutes!”

“Yeah! I’m the victim here!”

*Buzzer noise* Wrong-o!

No cause ace was getting pissed off at this point

Cause after a long, long day of school club and hanging out with friends, he deserved some y/n time. Don't you think?🤨

Like he didn't miss class once today! He’s earned it 😐

So like a bull in a china shop, he barged into the ramshackle with a heavy backpack. Complaining about Riddle. About what?

Sevens know what

But he threw you on the couch, soon following as he manhandled you into the corner.

So basically your back was against his chest as you were both playing 'a knock-off version of Mario kart’

Your words again, cause only seven know what a Mario is

Sigh, everything was perfect with Ace being a little shit and your laughter echoing so loud through the ramshackle, that the ghosts just couldn’t help but investigate

And of course, Ace was being a little shit, kicking you when you would pass him, randomly shouting when you were about to catch - and my personal favorite

Shoving you off the couch, getting on top of your waist and immediately going for your sides when you prevailed through his distractions,

So yeah, everything was almost perfect he says as your screaming for him to stop cause the tickling is starting to hurt

Keyword: almost

Until grim came running in, tears rolling down his fur as he yelled for you, effectively killing ace who got scared shitless. Though you reacted quickly, shoving him off and running to the cat's aid

Oh sevens you would’ve thought Someone died by loud Grim was wailing… Which was completely unlike the fur all as he was a big baby

(He denies it)

Until he was sniffing about how rook was out to kill him, again

“Mhm, yeah, okay Grim whatever you say. C’mon y/n let's get back to the game”

“Gimme a sec Ace” you mumbled picking up the cat as you started consoling him

And of course, Ace was about to call ‘bull’, but an arrow landed right next to your head, effectively piercing the wall as a small, purple note unfolded

‘ Je t’aime petit chat <3 ‘

You huffed "How romantic"

Though Grim only yelled louder.

As you looked up at Ace gave you an unimpressed look

“You really believe that?”

“Ace… An arrow just almost pierced my head through the window!” You huffed, scurrying to the kitchen with a tight hold on the squirming cat

Great, just great, ‘the great grim strikes again’ as a cockblock.

Fucking cats

Sighing, he plopped down on the couch with a pout, looking over at the discarded controllers

“I’m here,” you said, voice nasal liner than usual- Oh great scenes what's that awful stench

And there you were, clothespin over your nose as a munching grim laid happily in your arms

Making room for you as he grumbled about the awful smell, Grim all of a sudden started begging you to sit on the other couch since Rook already struck there and he might do it again

“Lighting doesn’t strike twice Grim, yer fine”

“Well, Rook does! And he wants my head!”

“Mhm“ he was unimpressed at Grim’s piss poor acting, and how you didn't catch on- was beyond him!

Shrugging at Ace as you sat down, you began petting the distraught cat, as Ace rolled his eyes wider,

So he went back to playing- single player this time as you were too busy with your pet.

You should be cooing and laughing at him, not that fleabag!

Speaking of the pet, he felt a heavy gaze on him as he sneaked a peek at you both-

Why the fuck was he looking at him like that

Oh my seven. A lightbulb went off in his brain as the cat's tuna smirk got larger.

That little shit did it on purpose

Ace gasped audibly, brows furrowing as he pointed to the cat, who quickly looked away while feigning innocence

Oh my sevens he was right

If the light bulb lit up before then it practically exploded now as he remembered Grim’s vow of revenge yesterday. All because he didn't give him the answer to Trein’s homework he work so hard to get

Little fucking bitch

“I thought he was gonna kill me” grim dramatically whined, throwing the empty can of tuna to the ground as you squeezed him tighter

“There there, Grim- let's get you all cleaned up”

He sniffled “I can still see him when I close my eyes”

“ I know Grim”

Carrying him like a baby, grim only smirked as ace gasped again, hand flying to his chest in disbelief

🖕🐱🖕

“That little punk is fool’n ya y/n! Look!”

You brought grim to your face who was already back crying

Calling Ace insensitive while glaring, you put grim back in the crook of you next as you made your way towards the stairs

‘Suck it’ grim mouthed as he did the ‘decapitation’ signal.

>:0

leaning back into the couch, Ace could only huff in annoyance as he grabbed his controller and went back to button mashing

“I fucking hate this place” Ace slouched into the couch, trying to drown out your cooing

Deuce

“Uhh y/n?”

“Yes, Deuce?”

“what are you doing?”

“Nothing much, why”

“Ah… just asking”

LOOK AT HIM.

GIVE. HIM. ATTENTION.

STOP SCROLLING THROUGH MAGICAM AND L O O K

Pleaseeee 😩

Though that little brat Grim had no problem giving him attention, smirking at him as he sprawled all over your stomach.

Oooo someone get Crowley 'cause there’s about to be an overblottt

(or not, cause Crowley is quite literally like a bird, only squawking and shitting and sometimes doing the occasional party trick)

HE DESERVES TO BE CUDDLED- NOT GRIM

He couldn't even say anything as his mouth was gaping like a carp as grim continued to roll all over you while making continued eye contact with him.

So all he could do was plop on the other sofa, clenching his fist as Grim was now propped on your stomach, elbow holding him up as he waved.

…That rat bastard (my aunt says this and I find it hilarious)

Deuce could live without your cuddles and reassurance…. But not today.

Cause after absolutely BOMBING TREIN’S history midterm- the one you both spent all week studying for

sigh

He just wanted to be in your arms 😿

He’s just an innocent little boy, won't you take pity upon him?🥺

Apparently not cause Grim is still staring him down.

“Deuce, you're staring, is everything alright love?”

Ah. Uh. Ehhh

“Bombed Trein’s test” was all he was able to mutter. The taste of his words was like black licorice as put his head in his hands as he had a tight grip on his hair

He heard a sigh, which was shortly followed by Grim’s grumbling and a light pause

Then a small thud, and what sounded like paws walking away. Though when he finally peeked from behind his wrists he saw you sitting on the couch, smiling. Arms outstretched as you beckoned him over

Though looking over to where he heard the diminishing ‘footsteps’ he saw Grim, standing down the hallway just… staring at him. That was until

🖕🐱🖕

“He- he flipped me off”

“He may be sassy, but he is just a cat, he has no portable thumbs ”

He nestled into you, arms snaking around your waist, legs dangling over the edge as he was still in shock about what just occurred.

“He just… “

“He’s a cat deuce”

“Yeah- But! He breathes fire! So he could flip me off!”

“You know he doesn’t have the brain capacity for that”

Jack

Jack needed you.

Let me rephrase that.

Jack had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

From his morning run being cut short because of a leg cramp, being late to class, someone somehow stepping on his tail, and then missing his favorite lunch!

Just a bunch of small clouds that slowly added up into one big cloud that loomed over his head the entire day. But he could eat with it.

So, as any level-headed character would, he decided to deal with it at practice. You know? Get his frustrations out while attempting to make up for his morning run.

Until his luck carried over to that.

And oh boy there's a list.

From Jack tripping when the gun went off, Jack tripping on his shoelace when he was about to pass the leader, Jack having no water since another first year tripped over it causing it to spill, Jack getting gel in his eyes, someone stepping on his tail again! And even coach Vargas yelled at him for slacking!

So yeah, he was having a shit day

He was confident that he was hiding his mood.

But he forgot he was a beast man and an incredibly domineering kid already. So beastmen and non -beastmen. Beastmen plugged their noses from the aggressive, angry smell, and non-beastmen cleared the hallways once they took a glance at his deepened scowl and clenched fist. And if they’ve learned anything from Trein’s class, it was to never mess with an animal (or beastmen) whose tail had a low, slow wage and pulled back ears

He had one mission and one mission alone, to get to you- his last resort of claiming down before he goes apeshit

What better way to counter his shit day than to hang out with his partner?

(He would rather die than admit he wanted you to cuddle him. Though couldn't deny the slight tail wag every time he recalled holding you close as you would kiss his cheek.

(Which was a lot better than punching a wall… or person)

So off he went to the ramshackle, quicker than usual due to the lack of foot traffic

You told him he could just enter and exit as he pleases, but he knew better than that, not wanting to come at a bad time or to intrude your privacy…

Even though you insisted he did.

So he knocked

The thought of just walking in and cuddling you was tempting, but he didn't. But as 5 minutes turned to 10, he was growing increasingly annoyed- until a ghost showed up and let him in.

“Hello Jack! Y/n is in their room resting, please come in” and with that, he entered

He didn’t know if the ghosts were going to prepare something for him, or wake you up to let you know you had company, but he excused himself and made his way up to your room- already preparing an excuse so he could weasel his way in next to you

So with a (useless) knock on your door and fighting the hesitation that racked his mind, he entered. And there, like a lump on a log, was you sleeping. Hair sprawled out beside you, as you were wrapped like a pig in a blanket.

JACK TAIL WAG JACK TAIL WAG

And almost like a cold gust of wind on a summer day, jack felt his shoulders and jaw relax

And dear sevens, if only he saw himself now. Knowing he’d already wipe the growing smile off his face and still his wagging tail

Softly making his way towards your bed with a small, microscopic smile, he was about to touch your face- until a paw swatted him away

What in the-

“No touching my henchman” Grim scowled, climbing out of the blankets (and Jack would rather not dwell on where he was resting) as he was now by your face, standing as he put his arms out. Acting like a barrier between you and your boyfriend

“Huh? What- no. I wasn't going to do anything to them, just wake them up”

“No! “

???? Where- where did this cat get the audacity????

“Fine” Jack huffed, walking to the over vacant side of the bed

“No!” Grim scrambled to the other side, effectively sprawling himself over the bed with a glare. Okay, now Jack was getting annoyed

“You're not allowed to wake my henchman! They told me to shoo away anyone who bothers them!”

“I'm not bothering them, I just want-“

And with that, grim slammed himself on your side, arms and legs wrapped around you tightly as his glare remained.

???????

At this point, Jack was getting uncomfortable. Seeing grim cozy up to you- quite aggressively with full-on eye contact might add. Was just really pissing him off

“Hey don't do that to them while they're sleeping” going to grab Grim, who then swatted him, jack’s eyebrows were furrowing faster than he ran

And at this point, Jack had enough, so instead, he joined Grim and you in bed, on a new mission to get Grim off you and then actually snuggle with you.

( i really wanna write that jack pulls him off and grim flies across the room, hits the wall then attacks jack and they get into a huge brawl while you try not to giggle)

But I won't. I can't.

Cause it's better than that

You, annoyed that your boyfriend wasn't taking initiative, wake up, pull grim by his scruff, and toss him out

Not even a toss, you full-on chucked him out. Like you were throwing a football

and you thought about pretending you did that in your sleep, but the ‘uhh’ coming from Jack’s throat proved that you weren't going to get away with it.

So you turned to face him as he stared at the door to see a mad Grim slowly walking away from the door just in time for you to miss him

🖕🐱🖕

But with the awkward eye contact and Jack quite literally weighing down your bed with pure muscle… it was hard to take anything seriously

“I'm sorry Jack, I couldn’t move ‘cause Mr. snuggle bug was so tired.” You swore you heard Grim argue in the background “And I wanted to see what happened- OW!”

He flicked your forehead! How rude!

“That’s not very nice of you!” Huffing as he laid down back facing you. Drooping yourself over him, you began playing with his hair and nuzzling his neck to let him know you were sorry about not intervening

You received a grumble, but you know the apology was appreciated when you felt his tail wagging against your thighs

Epel

I've never written for Epel or Sebek before so bare with me 🙇🏻

He was tired. That’s all.

Tired of school, tired from spell drive, and most importantly- tired of Vil’s ‘special treatment’

(More like hell)

And so what better way than to end the day than with your world-famous cuddles?

“Why is he here?”

You shrugged, letting down Grim who started to wander Epel’s room, face in awe as he compared it to a ‘five-star hotel compared to your 0-star dump motel’

“I couldn't find a babysitter”

“I’m a grown cat! I don't need a babysitter!”

“Tell that to Lucious, who is still in recovery!”

“Never” he hissed

You sighed, hugging your boyfriend as he eyed grim who was just- going through his things like he was even there.

Letting go, Epel stood standing as you lay on the bed

“I'm sorry, what were you saying”

You chuckled “I said” he heard you rustling behind him as Grim started inching closer to his carvings

“What's up, that made you go into such a poo-poo mood?”

Grim

“Just been a bad day”

5 feet

“Ah really, like what? Was it ‘he who shall not be named” you joke

3 feet, Epel started inching closer

“Uh huh”

“Was it your mom”

“Yep- I- what?”

Turning around to look at your smirking face, he heard a crash

“Grim are you kidding me?” You yelled, dashing behind Epel to snatch away Grim.

A shiver ran up Epel’s spine and he could feel his eye twitch as he whipped around at the scene

Though it all went in slow motion for a second, each apple- carving and work in progress hitting the floor. Their screams in agony as they bounced on the rug, and ricocheted off each other.

Though the one his eyes never left was the butterfly apple he carved for you- just for you. He could see a single tear roll down its skinny body before it completely shattered on the floor.

It was quiet. There were no more screams, no more cries, no more nothin’

“Epel…”

He couldn't even hear you as he slowly turned towards you, eyes no longer sparkling like the chandler in Vil’s room as you beckoned him to his bed

“Epel, sweetie, are you alright?”

He couldn't even speak as he nuzzled into your neck as his mind played catch up

Nodding his head solemnly, he closed his eyes as his head started to throb-

“Oh shit lol, sorry about that”

A twig snapped

“You sonava bitch! ‘M gon’ whoop yer ass harder ‘den molasses!”

“Epel- Epel wait no!”

Holding him down as he began to squirm in your hold as he reached for grim, who was now using you as a human shield.

“Get out ‘ere ‘n fight me like uh real man!”

“Y/n hold me, I'm scared!” Grim cried as you pushed Epel away causing him to hit the floor. But thanks to his adrenaline pumping, he was quick to recover and pounce again- until he saw grim smirking from behind you as you acted like a barrier, clearly frowning

“You really gon’ help dat thing?”

“It was an accident, plus you were scaring him”

“I’ve met mice with more ba-“

“Epel!” You gasped. With lighting speed you picked Grim up, hugging him tightly as his sight-eating smirk only grew larger. Backing up to his headboard, you shot him a glare

You've gotta be kidding me right? Like- this is all one big joke, right?

Why were you cuddling him? The one who broke the present he spent weeks on! You should be consoling him! Not grim 😾

Oooo he was so mad. His mind already running through different revenge scenarios

But no, he was better than that- better than him. He won't drag himself down to Grim’s level just because he got him upset. No. That’s not very manly of him

Think. What would Leona do? What would Vil do? What would anyone else in this scenario do-

“Oh, y/n..”

“Yes, Epel?”

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

He heard you hum in acknowledgment as he made his way towards the door, checking behind his shoulder to see grim snuggle closer to your lying form, eyes earthing him like a startled deer

What felt like a few hours ended up being a few seconds as your mind already started to drift when Grim’s startled gasp echoed.

“Y/n he’s here! He knows I’m here! Help me !” Groaning groggily as Grim started trampling all over the sheets,

“Huh? What, what are you talking about?”

Though he had already leaped off the bed and made a break towards the door, inaudible cries left his fear-stricken face as you just stared at him owlishly

He abruptly paused before he left the open door.

“No!” Diving under the bed and weaseling his way through the crates of apples that made a labyrinth under this bed

The only evidence of his presence was a slowly rolling apple and a few muffled whimpers

“Ah, trickster!”

“Rook”

“You wouldn't have happened to see that certain feline companion of yours around, have you?

“Hmm,” You thought aloud, hand on your chin “Well, I’m not sure. One minute he was here, the next minute he wasn't though he may be close by…”

He smiled, spewing some kind of French bullshit as he left with a skip in his step, your boyfriend emerging from behind the huntsman

“Anytime Rook”

“Epel…” you warned

“What?” He gaped, making his way towards the bed as he kicked a crate more under the bed, a muffled yelp was barely audible as Epel yawned, saying some bullshit about how ‘beat he was’

You snorted “Is that so Mr. man?”

“You bet”

Cuddling closer to you, he discreetly looked over the edge of the bed to see a pair of paws flipping him off ???

“Little shit”

Sebek

What was one way to get Sebek quiet? Well, quieter than usual

Cuddle him.

You've tried flustering him, but he would only get louder and cause your ears to ring. You tried kissing him, but he’d only shove you off then lecture you about germs??? (Bruh idk, he's using anything at this point)

So the best next thing to do is cuddle him. Don't get me wrong- he adores cuddling.

Only if it’s Diasomnia though, and sevens forbid you to ask him to relax

“I can not! What if there is a sudden call from waka-sama? Or someone comes into harm's way! I would not be a strong, super knight if I could not protect those dear to me!”

Does this man have any shame?

As previously shown, he loves being there to keep you safe and sound as he imagines all these different scenarios of rescuing you if there was a burglar or some heinous creature

Like Grim who decided to intrude on you….

Yep, just you, your obnoxious boyfriend and even more obnoxious 2” menace of a house pet in bed…

it was going great!...

Yeah, this wasn't going to work.

Especially when Sebek had just given you hair privileges (2 months into dating) and he was excited. Seeing you brush through Grim’s fur made him wonder what it’d feel like if it was your hand in his hair

“Do not shy away hu- y- perfect! You finally see how fae are superior in every way of hyenine! Espcially grooming!” .... .... “Did konw that waka-sama grooms-

”Anyways

It was exactly how he imagined, warm, comforting, and powerful.

But as fast as it started, it stopped. The warmth of your hands was suddenly gone- and when he was about to complain he was met with electric blue, cocky eyes.

Though of course, you couldn't see since Grim was staring right at his soul

Jolting up from your thighs (which he had insisted upon ‘resting’ on since he could be able to spring into action at any time -not some other reason-

What the waka-sama??

“Hu- y/n, why must this…” He gave him a once over “pest be here? Last time I checked I hadn’t invited him”

“He was lonely” you shrugged, never once stopping your nails from trailing his back. The cat let out a content sigh

“My henchman said they weren't doing anything today, so we were planning on catching up on our show until you kidnapped them. So this is technically your fault”

Sebek gaped, eye twitching and fist clenching as he felt his heart rate start to pick up

What. The. Fuck.

“How dare you insinuate that this is my fault! There is not one but to blame but yourself you scheming mongrel! I ought to have your head for that blasphemy!”

Sebek sprung out of bed, taking the covers with him as his foot hit the floor with a thundering step.

Groaning his name, you rolled over with Grim “You wanna fight huh? I can take ya with my eyes closed!”

“That is what I like to hear, pest. On your feet!”

“Sebek! Where the fuck did you get that!"

"One must be prepared for everything perfect!"

"Oh yeah, uh huh right. Well, you mind putting it down!"

There in his pajama pants no shirt glory, was Sebek, hand on hip as he pointed his sword at you. The point of the blade was so close it almost disappeared from view

“Oi! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

“You wanted a fight” he got into a ready position “You will get a fight”

Scrambling back as you left grim by itself, Sebek began swinging, actually trying to hit grim as he kept yelling about ‘paying for his sins?’ Whatever that means

“ Calm your manservant henchman!”

Uh oh

The swooshing stopped, and so did Sebek as you peeked from over the bed at his disgusted face

“Manservant/ Manservant!” He gasped “You dare insinuate that I, a knight in training of the benevolent, astounding, all-powerful wake-sama, would be a ‘servant’ to a lowly human?” He snipped

... What

“I was going easy as you are y/n’s familiar. But now, you shall feel my retribution!”

Grim gulped

“Sebek stop! He’s only trying to get under your skin.” You scowled

Though he ignored you, per usual

“That’s it I’m out” hands in the air, you walked behind a panicking grim with a sigh

“Human stay!”

“Stay?” You gasped, pointing towards him, his stance never wavering “ I’m not your dog Sebek! And you!” You turned your hand to Grim “ We can always watch our show before we go to bed! So you didn’t have to ruin our date!”

You swore they were made of stone as they didn’t move an inch, Sebek’s piercing eyes never stopping as he was mid-strike, and Grim’s running position as he at least dared to look a little guilty

“I’ll call you when you’re down with your temper tantrum Sebek”

Going going gone! You left the room with a lick of the door, both male's eyes following your figure until they were left to stare at the door.

there was a pregnant silence

“Tiny cat… You, are the one to blame for this”

“Wha- Me?”

“Indeed! If it wasn't for you none of this would have happened! It is your fault that they walked out!”

“Well if you weren't such a selfish jerk we would have all gotten along just fine!”

“How dare you call me a selfish jerk you- you-“

Grim came back to Ramshackle with a haircut

looking sharp Grim

🖕🐱🖕

I’m actually really proud of Sebek’s part ng. and yes- he is racist... sorry babes

I love how you can see the shift in quality with each part lololol

ALSO- HALLWOEEN EVENT????? aHhhhHHHHAH

tumblr on the computer is a scam, i spent 20 minutes spacing everything out perfectly only for it to fuck it out and bullet point it… smh😐

also hate how long and wordy this is but oh well🤷🏻

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

Text

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting.

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tw: injuries #tw: blood #tw: break in #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt casey #tmnt april #tmnt splinter #OOOOOOOF #took me a while #hope you like it!

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danny-chase · 3 years

Note

wait selina had her own protege? Tell me more 🥺

[Image ID: A young girl (maybe like 13-15) with hazel (yellowish) eyes and short brown hair. She's wearing a lot of eye makeup, a little hat with cat ears, and goggles. She wears a tie, pink vest, and grey t-shirt with pawprints. End ID]

Batman (1940) #642

Kitrina Falcone - link to wiki

She was a Catwoman copy cat (haha sorry i couldn't help it) who grew up with her abusive uncle (Mario Falcone - he literally tries to kill her in the arc she's in, she calls him uncle - but others claim she's his little sister and she claims she's Carmine's daughter) and lived on the streets for a while. She looked up to Catwoman and imitated her, but Selina steals some of her maps (i think like blueprints for heists or smth idk) so she breaks in to Selina's house to steal them back.

At this point she was working for Penguin (she bombed a place it was a whole thing) - her map making skills are vital for taking down/locating Black Mask so she's vital (she's doing this for the bounty). And she and Selina get on and Selina gives her a costume and she becomes Catgirl.

[Image ID: Selina Kyle as Catwoman and Kitrina Falcone as Catgirl stand on a rooftop next to each other with the moon illuminating them. The Catgirl costume has a studded silver belt and collar, black claw-like gloves, black leggings, and a black tank. There are pink zagging stripes on the side of the torso and back of her calf that have silver behind them. She also wears pink ankle high converse with a purple cat icon patch on the side. She has a mini cowl with cat ears that are pink on the inside and pink scale-like bracelets/ruffles at the end of her gloves. Narration boxes (Dick): Or in this case, in the reflection I catch out of the corner of my eye - the swift and agile movement in the reflection of the windows across the street. Selina: He's gone, Catgirl. Kitrina: I want to follow him. I bet he has a cool hideout. Selina: No. You have much to learn... and lesson one starts tonight. End ID]

Batman (1940) #697

Idk if she has any appearances as Catgirl, but following her appearances listed in the wiki she lives with Selina for a while until Dick tries to talk her into going to boarding school (with Selina also on board) on orders from Bruce.

[Image ID: Dick and Kitrina argue on a rooftop, Dick as Batman and Kitrina in a white tank top and pink pajama pants. Narration box: I don't have much time to spare on a night like tonight. But Bruce wants Kitrina Falcone out of Gotham. I can't say I disagree. Dick: The Aldridge Boarding School for girls is one of the best in the country, Kitrina. It's everything you need. Kitrina: And nothing I want. Dick: You can't have what you want. I'm taking that away from you. Kitrina Why are you acting like such a dork? I've proven myself. I helped you. Are you forgetting all the - Dick: You're young enough... smart enough to have a normal life. And you're an opportunist... take the one I'm giving yo - Kitrina: No one gives me anything. I take. I have everything I need here. Support. Training. Selina (off panel): Listen to him, Kitrina. End ID]

Batman (1940) #710

Dick lecturing a kid about not being a child vigilante is just jdfklajdkfla hypocrite XD

Anyways from here on, she runs ahead on the case they're working on (i skimmed didn't actually read it) leaving him clues and such it's like the typical young vigilante storyline of being over confident. She gets in over her head, Dick catches up and bails her out - she runs (because this one actually has self preservation instincts unlike the 934758 other batfam characters). Dick gets shot in the head (again - but don't worry the cowl redistributed its impact *sigh* this man has so much head trauma, but comic book logic) by Harvey Dent's wife Gilda no less and wakes up later and finds this letter.

[Image ID: Dick looks down at a paper, bandages are wrapped around his forehead. He's drawn with blocky features there art style isn't doing him any favors. Dick: A letter from Kitrina Flacone. The note reads: Dear Batman, I am writing to keep you from worrying about what became of me. I wouldn't want you to think that "Catgirl" got in over her head. Or was kidnapped, or killed. They show the side of a travelling bus. Note: I'm leaving voluntarily. In fact, I'm going to try out that school you signed me up for. It's probably a dumb idea... but I'm a girl who likes challenges. Kitrina sits looking into the window, seeing her reflection as Catgirl, earbuds in her ears. Note: And putting up with a bunch of rich prissy debutantes will be a challenge. I'm sure I'll put a few of them on their rears by the time it's over. But the point I'm making is, don't count me out. I'll be back. And I will be bad-assed. - Sincerely, K End ID]

Batman (1940) #712

The arc itself is pretty dry and follows a pattern we've already seen from DC comics. Also she's like "I'll be back" and DC just went sike. So. Yeah. Reboot messed her stuff up. It's annoying to me that they made Lian Selina's new protégé or whatever when they already had this storyline right here, and to have Jade drop her off like that is ooc, especially because Roy was right there as well. And while Kitrina might not be for everyone personality wise, I personally would love to see her kick rich kids asses at boarding school. Or just have her train under Selina - because at the least she already grew up watching Selina and trying to emulate her, both in personality and in the skills she taught herself - so the connection for this character is already there - whereas "Shoes" just came out of nowhere.

Another thing I find kind of funny is the popularity of "Stray" fics, because she hits some of the same beats I've heard about (i haven't read any though this is second hand knowledge). To my understanding, when someone (Tim or Jason) is stray, they grow up on the streets trying to escape familial abuse (which she does) and eventually is taken in by Catwoman (which she is) and becomes her protégé (again which canonically happened to this character). Though she doesn't interact with her respective Robin (Damian at the time) too much which i think is also usually a part of said fics.

Anyways here's her being called a stray lakdfjaslfdj

[Image ID: Kitrina as Catgirl slams into a car, Riddler's daughter following after her. Riddler's daughter: I need to warn you. I hate cats. Kitrina is kicked through the cars windshield. Riddler's daughter: Especially strays. Kitrina: Oofh! End ID]

Batman (1940) #711

I have no idea if this is a coincidence or not - this character has very few appearances, which date back to the Dick!Bats era - so i assume most of this fandom doesn't actually know who she is, but it's possible one of the first "Stray" fics used her as inspiration.

Also she freaking bit Dick as Batman which i find hilarious - i know fandom makes a big thing about Damian being a biter but like:

[Image ID: Kitrina bites someone's gloved forearm - it's Dick as Batman but you can't tell from the panel, forcing him to drop a knife. There's a chomp sound effect. Kitrina: What're ya? Crazy?! You're not killing him! Dick: Umff!]

Batman (1940) #696

*CHOMP*

#I also found a panel of Steph biting the Black Mask during War Games and i was like yes get him!!!#thanks for the ask i'm sorry this was so gosh darn long lmao #Kitrina falcone #stray #i wouldn't go looking for stray stuff apparently theres a lot of j*y/t*m which is why i avoid it #and allow the more dedicated individuals wade through the trash and tell me about it #either which way i'm literally so angry they chose to do a stupid ass plot with Lian instead of just bringing her back #like dc please read your own comic book canon and then we can talk #asks #batfam #little known batfam members #batfamily #catwoman #catgirl #dc comics #selina kyle

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youwontlikethisblog · 3 years

Text

Nicolas Mora, un Amigo.

OKAY IT'S HAPPENING, NOBODY PANIC, ITS HAPPENING!

This scene is probably one of my favorite in the sequence of writing the romance of Armando and Betty and Betty isn't even involved in it(too much).

Here we are, two days before the new collection is launched, the day that the establishment of commercial pledge (I used google translate for that so I could be wrong but it's el establecimiento de prenda de comercio) over Eco Moda is let known to the banks. The night before Armando said he had a night of dogs, didn't sleep well and it was a terrible one. He told that to Betty without her even asking, all she asked is if he was alright.

As the day progresses Armando is seen in a slump, not his overly erratic and neurotic self but just down, one could say feeling the blues. Marcela picks up on this when she enters the office to let him know that she's on her way to pick up his parents from the airport and asks him if he's alright he smiles and tells her everything is fine.

The camera work then shows her leaving and Armando telling Mario that it pains him to know he is letting her down, in the background Betty's office is in view, we can see her sitting at her desk paying attention to what's going on. Armando continuedly stands in front of her office or beside it. Something I've noticed as the episodes go on. Almost as if he's trying to stay close to her, maybe it's because his desk is right next to her office and I'm reading too much into the cinemograph lol. But for the sake of this post lets say I'm not reading too much into this and that is in fact the reason they show us this. Not only because it gives us the sense that Armando's subconscious is trying to stay as close to Betty as possible without alerting him or the others in the room, but as established in a previous post, Betty offers comfort and brightness in otherwise cold and uncomfortable situations to him. It also allows us to see that Betty was very well aware of the situation, relationship, and feelings Armando has towards Marcela. She's aware, that though they have their ups and downs and that he cheats on her, that Armando does care for Marcela. She doesn't go into that relationship naïve and unaware of Armando's feelings.

Now Betty receives a call to let her know that Nicolas is downstairs waiting for her and she leaves the office. She isn't a part of this scene so much as just the beginning. Armando was waiting for her so they could leave to the banks when she tells him she's got to get the papers and he agrees.

This shows us the paranoia that Mario truly has and how manipulative he becomes towards his best friend, Armando. We get a very clear image of how and what Armando thinks of Nicolas up to this point.

Mario stops Betty from leaving and asks "Who brought them?" and Betty without hesitation, indicating that she has no reason to lie or withhold truth tells him "Nicolas, my friend." and Mario's paranoia shoots out of his eyes.

Betty and Armando had spoken about Nicolas before. Armando was aware of who Nicolas was, aware of his role in Betty's life and Terra Moda. He had no reason to be doubtful or mistrusting of him or Betty and that's what is so important to note from this scene because he wasn't paranoid. He wasn't mistrusting or afraid that Betty could take the company away from him. In this scene was see someone who is and the only one that is is Mario Calderon.

Mario then goes on to question Armando about Nicolas and Armando even defends him. He goes to say that he[Nicolas] is trust worthy, that he's always brought them the paper work and that Betty collaborates that. Mario's body language is uncomfortable, shifting on his feet, and eyes are very alert, studying Armando.

While Armando's manipulation is very noticeable, Mario's manipulation is very subtle because unlike Armando who doesn't really study people to exploit them, Mario does. He silently pays attention to peoples behavior, which makes him seem like he's detail oriented and caring but he uses this ability to find weaknesses in people and exploit them through paranoia and tactic. In other words, he's a true manipulator.

[Someone wrote a more detailed post about Mario's manipulation but I forgot who it was. ]

Now Armando's body language is really telling us he doesn't care and finds the conversations unnecessary but he's being defensive about Mario's questioning. Even his tone of voice and facial expressions lets us know that he isn't worried about Betty or Nicolas taking away his precious company, much less that that's even a thought in his head.

The following scenes are of Betty outside with Nicolas, the cuartel de feas and then Betty in Armando's office handing him the papers. Mario is sitting upright, not slouching like he normally does, his finger tips or on the edge of the desk as if holding onto it for dear life and Armando is contemplating the papers, his tone of voice is somber and defeated. The phone starts to ring and he glances once, twice, at his phone and then yells at Betty at the third ring "Are you going to pick that up?" and she rushes to her office.

This outburst once again lets us know that Armando wasn't worried, wasn't mistrusting, wasn't paranoid and wasn't even considering the idea that Betty could take the company away. Which lets us know once more who the paranoid individual was in that room. Armando was sure of the woman he was entrusting his company to. He had an unwavering trust in Betty and this needs to be noted for the following days because though Armando on his own had been working on his temper as we see that he doesn't yell at Betty as much as before, Armando has had moments of blurring lines of work and personal in a split of a second all of that changes.

His best friend then tells him that he should watch his tone and no longer yell at Betty because she is the proper owner of Eco Moda. Armando has this look of shock and disbelief, because it hits him that Betty is the company's owner and that neither him or his family are the proper owners of Eco Moda anymore. Which is a big deal to him as he mentioned just minutes before, that it pained him to let Marcela down and along with that it's letting his parents down and being a failure, which I've talked about him and failure before.

Once Betty returns to the office she lets them know it was a bank confirming their meeting and the camera shows us Mario standing up, with Armando in the background still contemplating the paper, as if he needed to study them to make sure they were in fact in his hands, and Betty following Mario's order so he can question her. He proceeds to ask her about the meeting she had with the lawyer. He asks if he[lawyer] recognized her or something, she tells him not at all. The frame shows us Betty in focus while Armando is the background blurry, still engrossed in the papers of the suit against Eco Moda until Betty mentions what the lawyer wanted to be paid(which is 10% of whatever the embrago is) and he finally looks up and seems more worried and concerned over that than anything Mario has insinuated and then we return to seeing a somber and sad Armando in the background because his precious is no longer his. Mario's behavior was shocked at first when he heard what the lawyer was asking but then calm and composed.

Betty then proceeds to inform them that the only problem is that now the process has begun and that at any moment the secretary of the jury was going to go to take inventory of everything Eco Moda has and Armando, as always, yells at her, then lowers his voice and talks at her, angerly so, but Mario stands there observing them. He watched then closely, as he has done in the past(which is why he often mocked and joked that there was love between Armando and Betty) and as Betty leaves, respectful but annoyed at Armando for raising his voice at her and treating her as if she were a fool, Mario tells him that what she said was true and that there was nothing they could do about it but the most important thing was for him not to yell at her and Armando's face and body language indicates that he is unfazed by that, or truly bothered by it.

He is more preoccupied with the seizure against Eco Moda than he is about yelling at Betty and his best friend telling him not to.

Armando then proceeds to go into Betty's office to talk to her and he has a heart to heart where he tells Betty that it was going to be a hard period for him and that she understood more than anyone what it meant to him and how hard of a decision it was for him to make and do what he was doing. The music is somber and intense, often used for Armando's heart to hearts. Betty tells him she understand his dedication to the company.

Armando starts to open up to her. He doesn't even do that with his best friend of his girlfriend. He begins to let her in, once more my boy is blurring them lines. As he is leaving her office Betty stops him and tells him that she knows he was giving her his company but she wanted him to know that it was in good hands and Armando's response is "I know, I know that Betty"(Just in case this isn't part of her day dream I want to add that this signifies that Armando does in fact truly trust Betty with the company and isn't paranoid and worried that she'll take it away. It lets us know that Armando has total complete faith and trust in her).

The next scene is a daydream of Betty's(tbh I'm a bit confused as I write this because what lets us know that it's a day dream is the change in music and Armando's over the top behavior but as the day dream ends and the music fades Betty is back behind her desk where she was as Armando was leaving her office).

Why did I say that these scenes were important to the plot of Betty and Armando's romance?

Because if you focus well Armando displays total trust in Betty and Nicolas. He displays no paranoia towards them and the only one that does is Mario who slowly begins to feed his paranoia to Armando.

As he tells him "Don't yell at her, treat her better, she's the owner now." and ect ect. THIS explains why Armando was easily manipulated but most of all that his behavior towards Nicolas and his mistrust towards him isn't based on the company but Betty.

What does this mean?

Though to some degree Armando is paranoid over the company because of Mario, his biggest fear isn't Nicolas taking the company but subconsciously, his biggest fear is Nicolas taking away Betty as the next day he finds out that Nicolas is Betty's platonic love that's when his behavior has a definitive change towards Nicolas and Betty.

Why does he have a change of heart by simply finding out that Betty could be in love with Nicolas? How does that affect Eco Moda? Mario doesn't feed the idea that Nicolas will take the company away and I'll do a post breaking down that scene once I get to it but I think it's important to note the change of heart Armando has by simply finding out that Nicolas could be Betty's boyfriend/love because before he wasn't worried or mistrusting of them.

Nicolas Mora, after all, was a friend of hers.

PS. Later Armando interrogates Betty against his will because of Mario and his paranoia and though he does become heated during the interrogation, you can tell by his body language that he didn't want to be questioning Betty's loyalty and trust and feels bad over it. Do with this information what you'd like :)

#beatriz pinzón solano #Betty #armando mendoza #don armando #mario calderon #Nicolas Mora #ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #betty la fea

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hostess-of-horror · 3 years

Text

Danse Macabre

Finally! After so many days of writing, I have finally finished my biggest fanfic yet! It's another Phantom x Peach fanfic and it is a bit of a sequel to my previous one "Encore at Midnight". I had this really cool story concept for a little while and I felt like I just could not do anything else unless I write it down. It was a bit of an experiment since I had to do a little bit of research just to pull some things off (however, it is far from perfect, so please forgive me). Also, I have officially made some OCs for this fanfic, yay! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy what I have created!

Number of Pages: 17

Word Count: 9358

[Content includes: Themes of Death/Mortality and Some Suggestiveness (not smut though!), OC “Death”, Graphic Body Horror, and Slight Profanity]

For @salamifuposey, @kindpopstar, @jawaii-chan, and everyone else who wants to read this fanfic!

____________________________________________________________

My Dearest Princess,

Forgive my absence these past few days. I have been preparing the final touches in my newest masterpiece, and I have been dying to show you what I have created. It is something I have not done before; consider it an experiment of sorts. My excitement cannot be contained any longer! Tonight, I invite you to a performance unlike anything you have seen before. I have arranged a carriage to arrive at your castle at around midnight. It will take you to Spooky Trails, where I have made refuge, and you will be accompanied along the way. She will be your guide, and I assure you she will not lead you astray. I pray you receive this letter and that you accept the invitation.

Your Humble Host,

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Princess Peach reads and rereads the letter. So many questions run through her mind. What does he mean by “experiment”? What kind of performance will this be? And who is this guide? She looks up from the letter, and across from her is an unfamiliar face. Sitting across from her is a woman looking out of the carriage window, admiring the night sky. Or, at least it seems like she is, for the bright reflection on her tea shades completely covered her eyes. Her guide is abnormally slender and taller than her, however she could not tell exactly how much. Her alabaster skin pops in contrast of her dark attire, which consists of a frilly ivory blouse and high-low trail skirt, a velvet violet corset, leather pants, and a long onyx black coat embellished with jewels. Her frizzy, unkept silver hair is pulled up into two buns with small strands of hair shimmering like a diamond. Peach had never seen anyone quite like her before; it’s like she came from another world entirely. The guide turns her attention from the view towards Peach and smiles. Peach averts her eyes and looks towards the window – it was rude to stare, especially at a stranger. “So, you must be the one my master has been interested in all this time? He has told me so much about you.”, the guide spoke. Peach brings her attention back towards the guide. “I am, miss.”, she responds, “And, he has?”

“Oh yes! He is simply infatuated with you! I dare say, obsessed, even. And now that I have a chance to see you up close, I can definitely see why.”

“Infatuated is a good word to describe him. He has shown his affection quite often since our first reunion.”

“Has he now?”

“Mm-hmm. He’s been nothing but a gentleman towards me, even if he does get pretty… excitable from time to time.”

“Consider yourself lucky, your highness. Having an enthusiastic partner makes the relationship a lot more interesting!”

“Well, yes, I agree… I- um…”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Phantom and I have only met a little while now; almost a month I believe. I’m not sure if I want to start referring to him as my partner.”

“Just yet, you mean?”

“Oh, please don’t get me wrong, I do like him! I just like to… take things a little slow.”

“Ah, I see. I completely understand. You want to get to know him a little bit more before you make any decisions. A rather smart move on your part.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell anyone this, but my master isn’t one to do such a thing. That is not to say he’s completely reckless, but whenever there’s something – or someone – he’s interested in, he becomes determined. Stubborn even. And personally, it is not his best quality sometimes. It makes him look like a moron. A blind one at that.”

“I guess you can say he becomes inspired. Phantom is an artist, after all. Art is meant to invoke emotion, no matter the medium. It would make sense that he himself is the same way.”

“Insightful! And right you are.”

“Not to mention, Phantom is an opera singer. Opera, of course, is highly emotional and very dramatic, and so is he.”

“That too. I know this might be a personal question, but your first reunion with my master…”

“Yes?”

“What happened that night? I ask because I remember seeing him wallowing in shame after his trip over to the Mushroom Kingdom. When he returned, he threw himself onto his fainting couch, murmuring curses, almost about to cry.”

“Oh my! Well, Phantom was in the ballroom inside my castle that night. He was singing this beautiful melody. When I found him, we talked for a bit and discovered we both have something in common.”

“And what would that be?”

“Companionship.”

“Ah…”

“As we talked, he told me about his life after that battle at Spooky Trails a few years ago. He was so lonely, unable to find friends to call his own. Soon he became… anxious. I cannot describe exactly what came over him, but it was obvious he was in pain. Then, his eyes turned red, and suddenly darkness. I fainted.”

The guide stares at Peach, her mouth slightly agape. Although her tea shades cover her eyes, her expression is readable. It is a look of shock – that look of knowing exactly what had just happened with Phantom on that very night. She sighs, “I see. That is not the first time he has done that. My master can be terrifying when he has his moments.”

“Everything was just so overwhelming. I was scared, yes, but afterwards I was more concerned of his well-being. I cannot bear to see someone in pain; being alone can take a toll on anyone… Oh, that poor thing! He must’ve thought that he harmed me when I fainted!” Peach exclaimed. Silence takes over the conversation. Peach’s eyes wander towards the carriage floor while the guide’s attention never breaks. Her eyebrows furrowed, Peach fidgets with her gloves. The guide adjusts her position, leaning over towards the worried princess. She reaches out and holds her hand; Peach stops fidgeting. “I’m glad that you care about him, your highness. Very few do.” she gently smiles, “There have been many times I believed that the only people who care about him is me and the others.”

“The others?”, Peach asks.

“The rest of my master’s theatre troupe. Just like him, we are all one with music.”

“…may I ask what is your name?

“My name? Oh-! my name, how could I forget my manners? How rude of me! I am Dolores, your highness.”

“And if I may ask as well, if you don’t mind, where do you come from?”

Before Dolores has a chance to answer, a flash of shadows sped by the carriage. Dolores motions towards the window, her head peeking out, looking over the view. Her pearl white teeth shows as she grins from ear to ear. “We’re almost there! Ah, soon you will experience the greatest show yet, Princess Peach!”, she exclaims with glee. Peach takes a look at her window. Memories flooded her mind like a rushing river coursing through the barren earth. Spooky Trails.She remembers now; it was all coming back to her. This was all leading to the very location where her battle with Phantom took place. She, alongside Mario, Luigi, and a few Rabbids, witnessed Phantom’s creation and fought him as he flaunted about on the old, decrepit stage. To think, he was an almost entirely different person. Phantom wasn’t as gentlemanly as he is as of recently, but since their first reunion, he has been wanting things to change.

He wants her. Her heart. Her soul. Her beauty. Everything.

To think it has come to this. To think the princess, who has been known for being saved by her plumber in shining armor and being in love with him, would fall for such a character. But has she truly fallen for Phantom? Or is it all just nonsense? If it was just nonsense, then why would she accept the invitation? Peach takes in the environment as the carriage rolls across the cobblestone path, driving through the dead trees and the old, seemingly abandoned village. Despite having never returned after the battle, Peach regains her memories of Spooky Trails, almost to the point of knowing exactly where Phantom resides. Dolores returns to her position, her shining grin still on her face. Peach turns her attention back at Dolores and asks, “What was the inspiration behind this performance?”

“I would tell you, but it would ruin the surprise! My master has ordered all of us to never reveal his masterpiece until it is time.” Dolores answers.

“Oh…”

“All I can say is that this is no ordinary performance. My master is quite the visionary, you know!”

“Very well, then. I won’t ask any more questions, if it’s going to ruin the surprise.”

“Are you excited, your highness?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not often that I get invited to such events.”

“Really? But you’re royalty! I thought you would be invited to all sorts of performances.”

“I do, but it just doesn’t happen that often, and I honestly don’t know why. I adore the theater!”

“We all do too. Our lifestyle is nothing but the theater… quite literally!”

“Gosh, that must be so wonderful, to be part of a theatre troupe. To perform for all to see, to entertain others through amazing plays! I’ve always wished to join when I was a little girl.”

“Oh! Would you look at that! We’ve finally arrived!”

After what it seemed like more than an hour, the carriage, at long last, finally stops. Dolores gets up from her seat, slowly crawling her way out of the carriage. Her elongated body almost struggles through the small door, but she succeeds with grace. She then offers her hand to Peach with a softer smile, “Your midnight show awaits, Princess Peach…” Taking Dolores’ hand, Peach steps out of the carriage and immediately she is greeted by a massive silver gate. The very gate that stands guard the entrance to Phantom’s stage. It is beautifully sculpted, shaped into swirls and patterns holding up an illuminating full moon, with two music notes placed on each side as the borders. Yes, Peach remembers now. Dolores walks up to the gate and peers through it. She waves at something or something – Peach could not tell – and opens it, allowing themselves to enter. Peach follows behind. She didn’t know how tall Dolores was when they were in the carriage, but now she could get a good look at her stature. Dolores was tall – taller than any human she has ever seen before. If Peach could guess, her guide was three to four (maybe five!)feet taller than her and was practically towering over her. Ever since they met, she had this feeling of uneasiness. Who is this woman? What is this woman? Where did she come from? So many questions. There was something off about Dolores, and it wasn’t necessarily her abnormal physique. There was something, but Peach couldn’t put her finger on it. Whatever it was…. Perhaps she doesn’t need to worry too much about it.

Approaching the decrepit stage, the two ladies are met by a small man wielding a large, glowing lantern. This man is the opposite of Dolores in terms of height and physique. He is a short and stout dwarf, donning a regal yellow robe over his slightly mismatched clothes. The light emanating from the lantern reveals his nicely trimmed beard, his long, curly chocolate brown hair tied back into a ponytail, his fluorescent amber eyes giving them a warm welcome. His smile grew bigger once Dolores waves again; he waves back. “Dolores, there you are! And you brought our special guest! Wunderbar! It is a pleasure to meet you, eure hoheit.”, the dwarf greets them, bowing in courtesy. “Are the others ready, Stefan?”, Dolores asks.

“We’ve been ready for a while now. Just making sure everything is perfect for tonight.”

“And what about our master?”

“He will not show his face. In fact, he wants me to tell you that no one must see him until he has shown himself to us all.”

“Ah, well that makes things interesting.”

“I agree. Anyway, enough chit chat! Let us proceed! We must not keep our master’s little freundin waiting.”

“Por favor, Stefan! Don’t tease… that’s my job.”

Stefan chuckles as he ushers them to go into the stage. Dolores follows Stefan, and Peach follows Dolores. They all walk deeper through the torn platform and dusty curtains. Damaged props, broken wires, hanging ropes, and mangy fabrics scatter the place. The further deeper they went, the larger the backstage seems to be. Peach looks in awe as she continues to follow her guides. Who knew that this abandoned stage held such secrets? After a few minutes of walking, Stefan places his lantern on the floor, lighting up the entire floor, and begins to crawl on his hands and knees. His fingers trace the nooks and crannies of the floorboards, mumbling to himself. He searches until he finds a small hole and grabs it. The hole turns out to be a handle, and Stefan pulls and lifts up the floorboards. He reveals a decent sized door leading to a much darker pathway – a long stone stairway stretching far into a secret tunnel. Stefan’s lantern gave light to the darkness, making the trip down into the underground refuge much less intimidating. Dolores holds Peach’s hand as they go down the stairs. This was such an odd way of attending a performance. Peach could not imagine what kind of performance involves having to venture underground in order to see it. What could she possibly expect from all of this? Part of her mind began screaming for help, pleading to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom. Part of her mind wanted normalcy, no surprises. It wanted her to stop and return to her chamber, to her castle, to Mario and her friends. However, the other part was curious. It was that familiar curiosity – the same curiosity she had when first reunited with Phantom. She could never forget that night. Never in a lifetime. Everything about him, whether it be music or shadow, is just so…. Alluring.

Alluring… Beguiling… Captivating… Enchanting…

Her mind finally gives in. She goes for the latter. How could she not? She has ventured too deep into this tunnel to start leaving. For once, she is able to take a break from her royal duties. To forget her troubles. To finally experience something new. For once. As for curiosity, she was more concerned about Phantom. Why would he not allow anyone to see him? Of course, it must be for the performance, but what exactly does Phantom have in store? The more Peach thought about him, the more impatient she became. Phantom. Oh, where are you, Phantom? Her mind falls into that familiar trance. She wants to see him again. She wants to hear him again. Perhaps Peach has become just as obsessed as he is with her. This must be an addiction. It must be. If it wasn’t, then she would never be where she is right now. Whether it be curiosity, obsession, or madness, Peach will continue to walk into shadow if it meant she will meet her friend again. Stefan, Dolores, and Peach finally reach the end of the tunnel, finding a wooden door decorated with gold etchings, which looked out of place amongst the cobweb-shrouded stone walls. With a strong push, Stefan enters through, allowing the door to creak wide open. Behind the door is a humongous hallway, adorned from wall to wall with a vast multitude of paintings, flyers and posters of plays and musicals, candles, and curtains. To think a dusty tunnel would lead to a beautiful makeshift palace! It’s like discovering a treasure chest inside of a dank, murky swamp. Is this where Phantom was residing all these years? Peach gasps. Dolores turns around and smiles, “Welcome to our humble abode, your highness. In this place, music is our lifeforce. We eat, we drink, we breathe, we sleep in music. Just like our master, we are not only creators of art – we are art itself. And tonight, we shall once again breathe life into another masterpiece. I cannot describe how immensely happy we all are. We are so glad that you accepted our master’s invitation, you will not regret it! Now, come along with me, let us go into the Ladies’ Dressing Room. Natasha has designed a wonderful costume for you to wear, and Ophelia will help you with your hair and makeup. I assure you they will make you absolutely gorgeous. Of course, that is not to say you’re not already beautiful.”

Stefan leaves the two ladies and heads towards the Gentlemen’s Dressing Room, which is across from the Ladies’ Dressing Room to the left, placing the lantern onto an iron hook built into the wall. “Well, I’m going to get myself ready and meet up with the others. I’ll see you all at the Gallery! Bis bald!”, he says as he closes the door. Dolores enters through the door to the right and holds it open for Peach to walk into the room. There sitting inside are twin sisters, both garbed in fine, flowy silk and chiffon gowns, working on their latest projects. To the left is a somber young lady sitting near a vanity, dressed all in Aegean and periwinkle blue, her pale pink hair intertwined into exquisite dreadlocks that reaches down to her shoulders. Wrapped around her head is a flower crown composed of lavender, Baby’s Breath, Fairy Foxgloves, and Forget-Me-Nots. To the right is a cheery young lady wearing a similar gown but in shades of fuchsia and rose, checking over the details of an extravagant costume, which is porcelain and peach in color. Her pale blue hair is also made of dreadlocks, as well as composed with the same flowers with the addition of small vines, but is pinned up into a lovely cornrow braided bun. The twin in pink looks up from her work and gasps, “Dolores, you’re back! And the princess is here! Ophelia, look! They’re here!” Ophelia turns around, her saddened expression softening into a weak smile, “Oh, hello again. And it’s nice to finally meet you, your highness.”

Dolores greets them back, turning her attention back to Natasha’s project, “Is the costume ready?”

“Yes, it is! I was just making sure everything’s perfect!”

“It looks amazing! Buen Trabajo!”

“Aww, thank you!”

“Alright, now we must hurry. I need to be in costume. I’ll meet you all in the Gallery, and don’t dottle please.”

“Don’t worry, Dolores, we’ll be ready as soon as possible.”

Dolores leaves Peach with Natasha and Ophelia, entering through a darkened room to get ready for the performance. Once she leaves, Peach witnesses what is perhaps the most amazing thing she has ever seen. The speed in which Natasha and Ophelia got her ready for the performance was astounding. What should have lasted for about a few hours or so ended up lasted for a few mere minutes! No human possesses this level of speed, especially with makeup. Any makeup artist would take their time getting every detail right. There would be no possible way anyone could apply eyeshadow, eyeliner, blush, concealer, lipstick, and every other detail really fast without messing up. But Ophelia proved that such an ability was possible. Natasha was no different. She helped Peach get into the extravagant costume without any struggle at all, as it fit perfectly onto her frame. How did she get her size just right? And it’s so comfortable too! “And… done! Oh, look at you! You are just beautiful, your highness! Don’t you think so, Ophelia?”, Natasha exclaims happily, proud of her job well done. “Oh yes, I agree…”, Ophelia smiles weakly again. Peach looks over to a nearby mirror. They were right; she is beautiful. Perhaps even more so, she thinks to herself, for she had never worn anything like this before. It is true that, being of royal blood, she is accustomed to an extremely elaborate (and expensive) wardrobe. But this… this is different from any other dress. It is a ballroom gown, completely encrusted with diamonds and pearls, with lovely black roses making a long trail from her waist down to the skirt. The white skirt is massive, flowing down towards the floor like a mass of billowing fog. Her shoulders and bosom are exposed completely, giving room for a glistening choker made of the same jewels. Her hair is done up in a high bun, lightly sprinkled with silver glitter, and tied together with another black rose.

She looks heavenly. Like an angel.

With everything all set and done, Natasha and Dolores begin preparing themselves. As they do, Ophelia pauses for a moment. “Oh, your highness! I almost forgot something. Before we go, our master wanted me to give you this.”, Ophelia says, handing her a small card. It reads: For the Princess. Before heading back to primp herself, her expression slowly turns gloomy, barely keeping up with her smile, “You are so lucky to be chosen…” Peach turns over the card as she waits for the twins to get ready and continues to read:

Tonight’s performance is a one-of-a-kind experience. You, my dear, will not only be the audience, but also part of the story! Everything and everyone around you will be interactive, so please do not be shy. Converse with your newly found friends! Eat, drink, dance with your heart’s content! And please, do not wait for me. I hope you enjoy my masterpiece.

- P

Ah ha! So, this is what Phantom’s performance is! It is a role-playing experience, and based on what the card says, it must be a party he’s hosting. What delightful news! Although, Peach must admit that she has never role-played before, especially in something like this. But wait – didn’t she say to Dolores earlier that being part of the theatre was her childhood dream? Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try out her acting skills! Peach beams. She could not believe Phantom would make something like this. Whatever this role-playing party entails, she thinks to herself, she’s going to do the best she can. “We’re ready!” Natasha exclaims in a sing-song tone, “Are you ready, Ophelia?” Ophelia nods. Natasha excitedly takes both her and Peach’s hands, leading them out of the Ladies’ Dressing Room and into the Gallery. Peach almost could not keep up with the twins, for they have remarkable speed, as shown by their natural talents on makeup and costuming. How fast can could they possible go? If this is how fast they can walk, then how fast can they run? Natasha’s ecstatic giggling echoes through the hallway, and with every step they take, the upbeat tempo of music could be heard from behind the Gallery doors. The closer they went, the louder it became. The melody drifts in the air like a calm perfume for the ears, capturing Peach’s attention with its harmonious essence. A delicious delicacy for the senses. Just like Phantom’s voice. He must have composed this melody, for there is no way Peach could have been so immersed and entranced by its sound if it wasn’t. The three ladies approach the Gallery doors, the music muffled behind them. Natasha takes a glance back at Peach and Ophelia, unable to contain her excitement anymore.

She pushes the doors wide open.

What words could possibly describe the sheer extravagance of the Gallery? To think that all of this is completely underground! To think Phantom created this gargantuan chamber, big enough for him and perhaps one hundred guests! Maybe even more than that. Peach could tell, just by admiring the Gallery, Phantom is quite the fan of marble, silver, and velvet. Marble floors and pillars framing the chamber and silver-framed mirrors and portraits decorate the walls. Deep black velvet curtains cascade from the middle of the ceiling and down towards the floor, giving the appearance of one massive Bohemian tent. In the middle hangs a glamourous jeweled chandelier, giving a dim light to the darkness. Looking around, Peach notices there are seven rooms divided by the curtains, each one color-coded, with three rooms on both towards the left and right. To the left are the colors blue, purple, and green, and to the right are orange, white, and violet. The seventh room is located right in front of the ladies, right across from the Gallery entrance. Inside is completely shrouded in shades of red – wine, scarlet, crimson, garnet – and there sits in a shiny throne a crowned gentleman – a prince – with a glass of Amontillado in his hand. His wavy, champagne blonde hair falls delicately around his party mask and square facial structure. His rosy lips gently purse as he raises his glass to drink. He is accompanied by two other women, who are garbed to the nines in the richest finery, blushing and laughing amongst themselves. Every now and then, the prince would turn to one of them and whisper in their ear, making their faces turn into deeper shades of red. As Peach follows Natasha and Ophelia, she finds more guests, all conversing amongst one another in the color-coded rooms. The costumes they wear are vibrant in color and theme, ranging from jesters, to creatures, to knights, to fairies and pixies. These guests, including the prince himself, must all be part of Phantom’s theatre troupe. Peach begins to count: one… two… four… six… nine… eleven. Eleven members of the troupe. She wonders if there are any more, considering how large the Gallery is.

The prince turns his attention suddenly towards Peach, and so do the two women. Soon, almost everyone begins to stop for a moment and do the same. Simultaneously, Natasha and Ophelia bow, gesturing to Peach, “My Lord, we have brought you your special guest, Princess Morrigan of the Stygian Border.” The prince sets down his glass on a nearby silver platter, and stands right up from his throne, adjusting his vest and coat. “C’est magnifique, my loyal subjects! Now the masquerade can truly begin! Come, come! The night is young, gather around everyone! Let us celebrate all of our blessings and forget our grievances!” he declared, “May we prosper in these trying times, and may we never run out of wine to drink.” The crowd laughs and cheers, some of them raising their own glasses. He turns to Peach, his eyes wandering up and down, and smirks, “My, my… Enchantee, your highness. I must say, you look… ravishing tonight. I am Prince Fortunato, at your service. Why don’t you join me, my dear, in the Red Room? Surely, we can have some… fun together, what do you say?” Greeting her, Prince Fortunato places a soft kiss on her hand, his emerald eyes admiring her beauty. Or perhaps something else. Although Peach has to be polite, she immediately had no interest in him. Too cocky, she thinks to herself, too full of himself. It reminds her too much of Bowser. Then again, Phantom was that way, too, at least in the past. But she learned that he was not licentious. He never looked anywhere else but into her eyes. He never searched for anything other than her eyes. He ever seemed like he was after a particular goal other than seeing her whenever they meet. That is the one thing Peach was sure about. Ah, but remember! This is only roleplay; nothing is real. Prince Fortunato, as well as everyone else, is only pretending. In that case, this gentleman is an excellent actor!

Prince Fortunato leads Peach back to his throne, the two women still standing to accompany him. Envy fills the air. Their expressions turn sour as they watch Peach get even more attention than them. Peach could already tell that this is no ordinary masquerade. She has been to many royal revelries throughout her life, and all of them were filled to the brim with sophistication. Every guest, staff member, and host had class – anything that was considered less than classy wasn’t allowed. This masquerade is different in terms of the usual standards of hosting such parties. It was as eccentric as its Gothic décor, consisting of tables filled with silver platters of fruits, meats, bread, and desserts, goblets of beverages, and candles. Every once and a while, a few guests would stuff themselves and each other with this feast, disregarding etiquette for sheer pleasure. Peach isn’t used to the cacophony of this kind of merrymaking. All of this was nothing but pure, unadulterated debauchery – something she was taught never to delve into. She is a princess, after all, and princesses never do those sorts of things. However, did she not accept the invitation to let herself loose? Did she not agree to join this performance – this masquerade – to experience something new for once? For once? Feeling out of place just standing idle amongst Prince Fortunato and the guests, Peach goes over to one of the tables and picks at a plate of grapes. She watches as the guests gather around Natasha and Ophelia in one huge circle, clapping to the music’s rhythm as they frolic together. The fabrics of their dresses fly with their movements as if they were colorful wings dancing in the darkness. As she plops the grapes delicately into her mouth, her eyes continue to wander over the décor. Suddenly, she stops at a grim sight. There as the centerpiece sits three skulls, two of them from a different species, ones Peach isn’t familiar with. The skull placed in the middle, however, is human. She could not tell if these skulls were real. She hopes they aren’t real. Taking a closer look, an engraving is found on its forehead: Ars longa, vita brevis.

Without warning, the Gallery doors burst open! The music stops – the crowd jumps in surprise! Prince Fortunato rises to his feet, alarmed by this sudden interruption. Peach turns around. There standing in the doorway is an aged peasant woman in old, torn rags, her hair glowing bright red like a burning inferno. Her complexion is dirtied, her makeup is smudged, her eyes red-hot with fury. She scowls as she approaches the partygoers, her hands clenched as if she is about to attack. “For shame!Have you no shame?!” the peasant chants, flailing her arms with rage, “Have you no compassion for your people?! The plague lays waste throughout the land! And yet, here you are, surrounding yourself with wealth and whores! They are suffering! They are dying! There is no hope for us! For shame! For shame! Have you no shame?!” Peach watches as everyone else steps back, avoiding her filthy presence. Twelve. Twelve members in Phantom’s theatre troupe. Prince Fortunato steps forward, confronting her, “Who dares… who dares interrupts us?! Who dares trespass Fort Fortunato and speak against the Crown?!”

“It is your undoing that dares enter your home! This, all of this, will be your downfall!” she responds back angerly, gesturing to the masquerade.

“Leave this instant, or else I’ll have your head for this!”

“I have seen it, Prince Fortunato! I have seen your fate in the deepest of dreams! Doom is upon you all!”

“Ah, it’s one of those so-called soothsayers my people love so much… how lovely. They love having their fortunes told, don’t they? Superstitions and all that. Hmmm. Well, in that case, go on. Amuse us with your… dreams and visions, fortune teller. We do love to be entertained.”

“It will come, Prince Fortunato, in retribution of your indulgences. You and your party may hide all you want; it will still find you! Mortals cannot escape from what is inevitable. In the end, it shall visit us when our time comes… and your time is nigh.”

“Qu’est-ce que tu racontes? What is this ‘it’ you’re talking about? Whatever ‘it’ is, I am sure it will not ruin this masquerade. Princess, do you hear all this? She’s simply mad!”

“Our time is nigh!”

“Tu es timbre!”

“For shame! For shame!”

“Quitter cet endroit!”

“Have you no shame?!”

The peasant stops. Her eyes shift towards Peach. A look of horror falls upon her face. “You…”, she whispers, slowly raising a pointed finger at her. Peach watches as she approaches her, still pointing, terrified. Her expression contorts as if she is studying, searching for something. “You… are to be Death’s Bride… Yes! You are Death’s Bride!” she exclaims, falling to her knees, clutching Peach’s skirt, “Oh, you poor soul! So young… innocent… all to be swept by its dark embrace! I beg of you, your highness, leave this place! Forget these fools! Forget all of this! Save yourself!” With a swift grab, Prince Fortunato pulls the peasant away by the shoulder and pushes her aside. “Unhand her this instant! You trespass my fortress, you waste our time with your superstitions, and now you insult me and my guests?” he yells, “Everyone! Let us show this insolent wretch what it means to insult those higher than her! Bring me a chair! Bring me some rope! Let’s play a game with her, shall we?” Peach could not believe it. A prince sacrificing the well-being of his people for an elaborate masquerade! And now, he and the other guests have decided to torture this poor woman! She cannot stay silent any longer – she must act! “Wait!” Peach cries, making everyone stop in unison, “Have mercy on her! Please!” Prince Fortunato scoffs in amusement, “Why, and for what? She insulted us, you heard her!”

“Yes, but none of that would have happened if you attended to your royal duties as Prince and took care of your people!”

“E-excusez-moi?”

“This poor woman is in dire need of assistance, and you have all the wealth to help her! Maybe you should consider.”

“Ha! My dear, you jest! I have no need for peasants! Why should I dabble in their affairs?”

“Because their affairs are yours as well. They have relied on you for so long, and you rely on them. Without your people, you’re done for!”

“Do you not see the extravagance of this masquerade? The bountiful feasts presented on the tables? Our costumes? The wine in our glasses? I am rich, Princess Morrigan! Wealthy beyond imagination!”

“Wealth that came from people like her! Please, my Lord, have mercy.”

“Are you mad? Ha, you must be! Just as mad as the fortune teller!”

“If I am as mad as her, then I must be! Yes, that’s it! Perhaps your foolishness is just another wild hallucination, for what respectable royalty spoils themselves to the point of gluttony and greed?”

A crowd of gasps shatter the silence. The crowd glance at Peach, then at the prince, then back at her, awaiting another response. Prince Fortunato stands silent, completely stunned by her audacity. His face becomes flushed, his teeth gritting, his emerald eyes bright with anger. His fists clench. “Oh…. I’m a fool, am I? Am I a fool?! I am not a fool! I am Prince Fortunato, the next in line! Heir to the throne! I am as respectable as royalty can be!” he furiously shouts, “I will not be insulted like this! I will not be degraded like this! I need not your judgment, or hers, or anyone else’s! I am no fool, do you hear me? I am not a fool! I am a Prince, full of riches and beauty! I am perfect! I am powerful! I am untouchable! You think I’m a fool? You call me a fool, eh? Ha ha! Well then, let me entertain you all! Come, gather around, my lovely guests! Let me show you what a true fool really is!” With a whip of his cape, Prince Fortunato rushes from the crowd and goes behind the throne. Everyone watches as he switches his coat and cape with another coat and removes his crown with another accessory. In a matter of seconds, he reappears, this time donning a shiny blue coat and a mask in the shape of a rabbit’s face. Raising his arms, he presents his new costume to the crowd, “Here! Here! I am now a fool! But Prince Fortunato? Oh no, no, no! He is no fool! You imbeciles! He is a national treasure!” Has Prince Fortunato finally lost his sanity? What could he possibly gain from this? Peach is stunned, as much as the rest of the others. However, she is not as terrified as everyone else. She sees Natasha and Ophelia cradling each other, comforting one another despite both being in distress. She sees Stefan in costume backing away, almost seeming to run away and hide somewhere safe. She sees Dolores frozen in utter fear.

Peach remembers what she had said: “My master can be terrifying when he has his moments.”

No one could help but watch as Prince Fortunato danced along the ballroom floor, singing random songs in a mocking fashion. He flails his arms, waving his hands wildly as if no one is watching him. Is this even part of the roleplay? This moment feels too spontaneous to even be scripted. Peach could not imagine Phantom having his own theatre troupe mock him, regardless of whether or not it would be intentional. Whoever is playing Prince Fortunato must truly be a fool. Prince Fortunato sings in a sardonic tone:

🎶“Look at me!

Watch me float and gloat and show off my coat!

Watch me as I sing about plumbers – oh, how I hate them!

I hate them so much, oh what a bummer!

Watch me as I make sweet, sweet love to my precious spotlight

Under the moonlight!”🎶

Although the song is less than perfect, Peach admits to herself: he has an amazing singing voice! And he sings opera, just like his master! She wonders if all of the members of the theatre troupe can sing as well. Ah, no! Enough of that! Don’t get distracted now! As he sings, Prince Fortunato runs and leaps onto a nearby table, knocking over huge plates of food, skulls, and candles on the floor. Everyone else watches as he spins and taps his feet on the table, his arms still flailing around. No one in the theatre troupe tries to stop him – they’re all too shocked and afraid to even do so. They did not want to get involved in such mockery. Peach could. However, what would happen if she did? As much as she would like to stop him, she just couldn’t. For whatever reason, whether it be out of shock, or out of fear, or out of curiosity, she did not move at all. Still, the Prince continues:

🎶“Imbecile, imbecile, imbecile!

Everyone’s an imbecile but me!

Listen to me, listen to me!

My ego is as big as it can be!

Come, my Princess, marry me please

Or else I’ll cry, cry, cry!”🎶

Then, the sudden drone of a large bell rings! It brings everyone into a hush, sending an immense chill down their spine. No one moves. The drone continues. And continues. And continues. Is this what the peasant woman was talking about? The impending doom that is to fall upon this masquerade? The fate of everyone who stands here on this very night? This inevitability that will claim those who still walk on this earth? Whatever is coming for them… has arrived to make its debut.

The Gallery doors creak open. Seeping through the entrance is a cloud of fog, billowing across the floor like a massive white sheet. It surrounds everyone, almost rising up to their knees, and soon the entire chamber is filled to the brim with gloom. Prince Fortunato finally steps down, his eyes staring in fear at the entrance, and retreats behind Peach. As fate approaches them, soft murmurs of terror arise from the crowd. One by one, each and every actor and actress trembles in anticipation. Peach awaits as well, but more out of curiosity than the shock of terror. This feeling; she remembers it all too well. She has to know what happens next. She has to know what kind of resolution this entire roleplay performance is coming to. Although the resolution is frightening, it was the satisfaction of discovery that keeps her within the Gallery. She will not leave. Fear will not take over. Only curiosity. Only awe and wonder. Only fascination.

And lo and behold, there stands the face of Death in his newest and blackest masterpiece.

He stands tall, bejeweled and shrouded in crimson, emerging from behind the murky darkness. The sheer size of him is intimidating enough, but the opulence in which he had adorned himself gives him an almost divine presence in the masquerade. Out of all the costumes Peach has seen, this one is more magnificent – more vibrant and elaborate – than the rest. Blood red veils cascade down from his large cavalier hat and alongside his cape. His vest a skeletal ribcage, patterns of bones scatter his scarlet greatcoat, and in his paws is a colossal gold cane. Hidden underneath the shadow of his hat is a golden mask, formed into the shape of a skull. Everyone slowly backs away as this masked red-clad stranger approaches them. But not Peach. Instead, she stays, completely in awe. She has become too enamored by his Gothic glamour to even be remotely scared. Finally. After so many days, they finally meet once again. She could see his sapphire eyes peering through and meeting hers with a sign of notice. He stops for a moment. That look… that tender gaze! Although they had only met for a little while before this moment, Peach confesses to herself: she could never have enough of those bright eyes. Those gleaming sapphire eyes. Even through that skull mask of his, she could stare into them all night long.

Alluring… Beguiling… Captivating… Enchanting…

Phantom shifts his attention to Prince Fortunato, his eyes wide with fury. The partygoers cower as he floats over to the foolish prince, towering over him as he looks down. Prince Fortunato scrambles, quickly taking off his blue coat and rabbit mask, full of sweat, almost hyperventilating. His face is revealed with a terrified expression. His eyes look up at Phantom, awaiting whatever fate – whatever punishment – shall bestow upon him. Phantom twists his cane and slowly he pulls it apart, revealing it to be a scabbard with a long, sharp sword inside it. Peach gasps as he unsheathes his weapon, raises it up in the air, and points it down at a quivering Prince Fortunato. “Please, monsieur!” Prince Fortunato gasps and swallows, “Spare me! It was only a mere jest! I was only having some fun entertaining my guests! I-I am the host, after all! Monsieur, please… Have mercy…!” Everyone watches in horror as he pleads for forgiveness. Phantom takes in a deep breathe; music begins to play again. It is in minor key, deep and dramatic – the orchestral equivalent to an imposing force. Peach holds her breath. Finally. With a smooth, baritone voice, Phantom sings his haunting solo:

🎶“Fortunato!

Surrender to me,

Look upon the face of Death!

It is meant to be,

Now savor your last breath!

Fortunato!

Your time has come at last,

Take your final drink of wine!

For your sins in the past,

Oh Prince, your soul will be mine!”🎶

“No!” the prince cries out, “You cannot take me! I will not let you! My guests need me! My people need me!” What hypocrisy! What foolishness! Peach watches intently. What is going to happen next? Will this masked presence spare Prince Fortunato? Will Prince Fortunato’s mockery be forgiven? She anticipates what comes next, whatever that may be. But although she tries to expect the unexpected, there is one thing she is certain about: the masquerade was doomed from the very beginning. Phantom lowers his sword, just by an inch, almost as if in contemplation. A few moments of silence passes. Everyone watches him in anticipation. Peach. Prince Fortunato. Dolores, Stefan, Natasha and Ophelia. Everyone. Anticipating. Anticipating. Anticipating.

Phantom smirks, letting out a soft chuckle. His sword lowers even more, and finally inserts it back into the scabbard. A sigh of relief fills the Gallery…

Then sudden horror! It happened so swiftly. So much so that if one were to blink at that moment, they would miss it completely. A scream pierces the silence! It was Prince Fortunato, now on the floor collapsed to his knees! He screams in agony as his covers his face! Phantom had made a sharp wave of his hand, almost as if he were to slap him across the face. But no! It was much, much worse. A terrible fate had fell upon the prince.

Blood…!

Oozing from his face is a gush of crimson blood! His eye sockets, his nostrils, his mouth, his pores – all drenched in blood! Horrid blemishes begin appearing on his flesh, leaving opened, pus-filled wounds as they pop one by one! Tears and yellow fluids mix with the blood, staining the floor with a pool of secretions! And the screams! Oh, the screams! Prince Fortunato tries to hide his face once more, only to find that it hurts too much! His hands pull away from his face – and, oh God! His flesh, his flesh – it is rotting away! What was once the pristine beauty of a spoiled, gluttonous prince is now the face of nightmares. He coughs and chokes; he cannot scream anymore – blood has filled his throat! He falls onto the floor, panicking, suffering! To think that this is what his people had to endure while no one was there to save their lives. With eyes stained with tears and blood, he rushes over to his guests and reaches for help, but in vain, for who could ever touch a diseased man? With a final cry of fear, Prince Fortunato falls. There lays on the floor is a twitching corpse, the face mutilated by the worst of illnesses…

This display of gore puts the guests into a state of frenzied panic! More screams and sobs fill the Gallery, as well as the sound of footsteps running and chairs and tables knocked over. If they don’t do something, Phantom will come after them next! Anything to get away from this face of Death. Chaos ensues! All except for Peach. Peach stands still amongst the disorder of the partygoers. Her widened eyes are fixated on Phantom. Is it shock? Is it fear? Is it something else entirely? Of course, anybody would be frightened by the sheer grotesqueness of the prince’s death and the possibility of meeting the same fate. But strangely, it seems to not bother Peach at all, almost as if she isn’t aware of the situation. Perhaps she is still mesmerized by Phantom’s extravagant appearance? Perhaps she is somehow desensitized? Whatever is going on, Peach still remains, as well as the peasant woman. The two ladies stare as Phantom slowly turns to watch over the terrified crowd. He observes the scene quietly. All in unison, the panicked guests rush toward the Gallery doors. With a wave of his hand, he blocks the entrance, slamming it tightly shut. Ophelia throws herself on the doors, slamming her fists frantically, “Open the doors! Open the doors! Oh please, open the doors!” Everyone begins to do the same. But alas, their attempts of escape are futile, for their master – the Red Death – had already claimed their souls. Once again, Phantom sings:

🎶“Crowned with privilege and villainous

Bathe in the blood of your wickedness

Tonight, retribution is at hand

For this masquerade shall be damned

Mask yourselves to hide your shame

But in the end, they know your name

Into the earth, your corpses will sink

May your blood be the wine they drink…”🎶

And one by one, each guest fell, forming a massive pile of bloodied bodies in front of the entrance. Peach takes in what had just happened. She had never seen something so macabre before. Roleplay, she thinks to herself, this is all just roleplay. This is all just pretend. No one is hurt. They are all just acting. This is all just roleplay. But by the stars, it looks so… real! There is blood everywhere. Not just the red pool on the floor, but also smeared handprints on the doors too. How did Phantom do all of this? This must have taken so much effort and hard work to even pull off such a remarkably gory scene! Peach couldn’t help but wonder what exactly went through Phantom’s mind when making this performance. This was something she never expected, let alone how absolutely graphic it was going to be. But regardless, the entirety of the roleplay screamed Phantom. It was bold. Dramatic. A complete subversion from a usual masterpiece. There was grandeur, there was beauty, there was mystery, there was tension. Then finally the payoff – an act of karma against the avaricious Prince Fortunato and his hedonistic friends. Now only she and the peasant woman are left. Peach cannot imagine what this powerful reaper is going to do next. Ah, no – she suddenly remembers!

Death’s Bride. She is to be Death’s Bride…

Her thoughts are interrupted by another cry, this time from the peasant woman. She turns to find Phantom approaching her, his hand lifting up to claim another soul. But why must the good die? Death is inevitable, it is true. Life is short. Peach knew this. But what did this poor woman do to deserve such a fate? Why do bad things happen to good people? Perhaps it is meant to be, just like what Phantom said. Roleplay. It is all just roleplay. Should she stand by and let things take its course? Or maybe… what could she do? Roleplay…. Ah, of course! Peach dashes over and stands in between them. “Wait!” she says, defending the peasant woman, “Have mercy on her!” Phantom pauses, taken by surprise for a moment, but then resumes in character. “Young or old, poor or rich… Death waits for no one. Her time has come.” Phantom calmly responds, his voice low. “Can you at least give her enough time to live another day? Can you see she has suffered enough? Please, I beg of you.” Peach pleads.

“You stand in front of the face of Death… and yet you are not frightened. Are you… not afraid of me?”

“I do not fear what is inevitable. I just want to give her another chance.”

“Such compassion… and all of this for a stranger. However, as painful as it may be, you cannot persuade me to spare her.”

“If that is not enough, then I will offer a gift to you.”

“And what is this gift you speak of?”

“For this woman’s life, I offer you myself. You can have my soul. You can have everything, all of me, and I will not refuse you.”

Phantom is rendered speechless, despite staying in character. Do his ears deceive him? No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be! Deep down inside, he could not believe what Peach had just said. He watches as Peach ushers the peasant woman to flee the masquerade, and so she does, retreating to a small secret entrance hidden by the large curtains. Silence. As much as he tries, Phantom seems to be unable to speak. Now only he and the princess are alone. Together. Just like that one night. “I believe that is enough to persuade you?” Peach says with a soft smile. That smile. Oh, that sweet smile! He could stare at it forever! “I can be yours, and yours only. I will not leave. I will be not be frightened.” she continues, “It must be lonely, going around the world and reaping souls for those who’s time has passed. You don’t have to be lonely. You can have a companion! Someone who will join you by you side. Don’t you want that?” Companionship. Is Peach talking to Death or to Phantom himself? The lines between roleplay and real life begin to blur before his very eyes. He could not differentiate which is just acting or an actual confession. She must be playing a trick – she must be! This could not possibly be real! This is just too good to be true! Taking in a deep breath, staring deep into Peach’s pretty eyes, Phantom sings one last solo:

🎶“Oh, Sweet Maiden!

Surrender to me,

Look upon your paramour!

It is meant to be,

Together forevermore!

Oh, Sweet Maiden!

Your time has come at last

Take your final drink of wine

For this spell I shall cast

My Bride, your heart will be mine!”🎶

With a wave of his hand, two shiny, black feathered wings sprout from Peach’s back! Peach glances over in surprise, admiring her new wings. They sparkled under the light of the chandelier with iridescent glitter. Natasha must have added these in while making her costume. Once again, she continues to be impressed be Natasha’s work. Then her eyes glance over towards the Gallery entrance. Peach stops. Something has changed. Her eyes squints as she tries to make out what she is seeing. Confusion floods her mind until realization hits her.

The bodies… are those…. Mannequins?

Phantom places his paw on her cheek, delicately turning her face towards him. The softness of his caress fills her senses, and she is greeted by his tender gaze. What a tender gaze he has! As her eyes are locked in his gaze, Peach feels herself being gently embraced around her waist and leaning back into a dip. Her heart begins to race. Beat after beat it quickens its pace, her breathing becomes more and more shaky. It must be adrenaline – all of this is so new to her. Peach finds herself reaching out towards Phantom and, ever so gently, she takes off his skull mask, revealing his face. At long last, she finally sees him. Oh, how she missed him! “Did you enjoy the show, your highness?” Phantom grins, “I must admit, there were some things that weren’t… intended to happen, but as long a—” He is stopped, as Peach catches him off guard. Locked in a tight hug around his neck, he feels his lips being locked with hers. It was passionate yet gentle and warm. Peach, the princess he has adored for so many years, is giving him a kiss. A kiss! Is this a dream? Is this actually happening? So many thoughts went through Phantom’s mind. He could not process all of them at once; his head could possibly burst from excitement! His eyes flutter and close, letting himself melt into Peach’s embrace. If they could pull each closer than they already are, they could. But no matter how much closer they can be, it just wasn’t enough. They wanted each other. They craved each other. The unbridled desire for connection and companionship broke loose, and immediately they find themselves losing all control of their yearning. Their lips break apart, their hot breaths mingling with each other. They open their eyes; Peach grins and so does Phantom. They kiss again, neither of them wanting to stop. “Ah…!” Phantom gasps in between her soft lips, “Mon ange de la mort…!”

Overwhelmed, Peach swoons as Phantom dips her even further and surrenders herself to his kiss of death.

---

She woke up the next morning. The first thought that would have come to her mind was how she even managed to return to her castle without any notice. But no, the very first thought that came to her mind was what happened last night. She laid in her bed and, as stares up at the ceiling, touched her lips softly with her fingertips. Then up her rosy cheek, then down to her neck, and across her bare shoulders. She could still feel his touch. She sighs deeply – what a performance that was! Peach stretched her whole body and curled up, sinking back into sleep. A love stricken grin appeared on her face as she whispered to herself, “Until we meet again.”

#my writing #OTP #fanfiction #shipping fanfic #Phantom x Peach #phantom of the bwahpera #OCs #princess peach #mario rabbids #mario rabbids kingdom battle #tom phan

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yeoldontknow · 5 years

Text

The Morning After | (M)

Author’s Note: welcome back to chanvember! i hope you enjoy this piece <3 its been a while since ive written smut for him and given how the last time went over, ive been very nervous about this. so i hope everyone has a great time! | this work features graphic sexual content and themes not suitable for an audience under the age of 18. please do not read if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable or if you under 18. Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: smut; romance; friends to lovers!au; fluff; angst; au Summary: For the last several months, every time you and Chanyeol get drunk you wind up in bed together. At this point, you’ve come to expect it - it happens like clockwork. But now, your feelings for him have developed into something much stronger than friendship. Now, you’re not sure you can carry one pretending to be fine with this arrangement. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; unprotected sex; creampie; sex on a kitchen counter for all to see (but the stove isnt on; safety first!); dirty talk; drinking games; jongdae possibly passed out in the snow Word Count: 11K

The heat of his body pressed against yours is what wakes you, the full length of his limbs nestled against your skin, seeking security.

Chanyeol is needy in sleep, always curled against you in the hopes of sharing warmth, contact, and affection. Waking up beside him, held so tightly in his arms, his breath cascading over your neck, is your favourite part of this non-arrangement - the glory of waking up and feeling wanted. He’s good at it, too, tall enough and warm enough to make you feel special, protected; and enough to make you want him him down to your soul, as though you could ever want him less.

But this, you know, is also your least favourite part of waking up with him - apart from waking up at all. The gift of waking up feeling held, protected, needed, down to your very bones, is a blessing most people savor, something they would hold onto with both hands, reluctant to release even after morning breaks. But you, you know what it means, and it’s the meaning that stings, even if it’s shallow. Being held like this makes it <i>hard.</i> It makes it hard to leave, makes it hard to remember who you are and what you are, feeling special only to remember these fleeting moments don’t last.

With other people, you’ve grown accustomed to waking up and walking away - in fact, you relish the act of leaving, body sated and mind empty, your craving reduced, in these morning hours, to coffee and solitude, with no room for anything else. With other people, you disappear as though it is your magical blessing, body already awake before dawn, footsteps quiet, and smile reserved for yourself, for the satisfaction that comes from liberating yourself from men you don’t really want.

For you, walking away is easy, a sacred talent of empowerment, but, with Chanyeol waking up hurts.

The sun seeps through the linen of the curtains, and you sigh, blinking resolutely at the yellow hue fully aware you’ve missed the dawn, and thus missed your escape. Mouth dry, the alcohol from the night before lingers on your tongue, much the same way his hand lingers on your stomach, palm flat as if to hold the totality of you. His other arm rests beneath your neck, cradling you close, protective, while still ensuring you are comfortable enough to sleep.

Biting your lip, you press back against him, feeling the hardness of his erection rub against the curve of your ass, as much a reminder of his anatomy as it is a phantom memory of the previous night, the purposeless celebration, and the way you fell to bed together, acting as though you were surprised and unprepared.

Chanyeol was already drunk when he found you, stumbling into the living room with a smile on his face that spoke of yearning, Your own motor skills had been delayed by the alcohol in your system, a frown set on your face as you attempted to figure out the HDMI settings needed to use the Nintendo Switch the Air BnB had so generously provided. It was for Mario Kart, you complained, eyes wide and pleading with Chanyeol’s savant capabilities with wires and technology. He had to help you.

But he didn’t want to. He said this with a pout, reaching for your neck and shoulder with messy inelegance, looking bereft, the beanie on his head too large for his cheeks, giving him the appearance of someone too innocent for his age. The drinking games had gone poorly, bad enough to hurt his pride, and he was seeking consolation for his losses. He needed you, he said, adamant and desperate, pleading even though he’d never admit it, looking so young and so small and so terribly needy.

Hands on your hips, you grimaced, told him he’d only get comfort if he helped you, annoyed because he certainly did not need any comfort. He was terrible at drinking games, the only games he could never master because he could never master his drink, and he should know this, you said. He’s smart enough to know.

You don’t remember how his lips found yours. If you’re being honest, you rarely ever remember. Every time, you never truly remember much beyond the blinding haze of desire that floods your limbs whenever you look at him, but you remember the feeling. It was so unlike the kisses he usually gives you when he’s this far gone, hands seeming to remember where you like them best and lips moving with an assured confidence, as though he no longer needed permission - as though kissing you was something that came naturally, and without hesitation.

Chanyeol walked you up the stairs, one at a time before pulling away from your lips with a frown, and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist to carry you the rest of the way.

‘Fuck off.’ A weak protest, one that you mumbled against his lips. ‘I’m too heavy.’

‘No, you’re not. Shut up.’

He resumed kissing you, kissed you even as he pushed through your assigned room, the room you staked claim in by dropping your bags not seven hours previous. You were glad you’ve moved them to the floor.

It was messy, from there, his hands at your jeans and pulling them down while your fingers worked at his belt - too complicated, you’d said, and he’d laughed. His mouth found your core, licking a full line up your slit before diving inside. He moaned on contact and so did you, not bothering to be quiet. Downstairs, Jongdae yelled victoriously - another win. In bed, you gripped Chanyeol’s hair with one hand and the bed sheets with another, feeling victorious yourself as you rolling up against his face until he kissed your clit and told you not to come.

The thickness of his girth still resonates between your legs, stretching you to a fullness your body always remembers, but can never replicate with your own hand and fingers, not even your vibrator. He fucked into you while he called you love, and baby, and perfect, kissing at your breasts as he fucked you hard enough for your hips to hurt. He came inside you, too, a new development that makes you grateful you’ve been taking birth control, a new development that makes your thighs clench in memory. Overwhelmed by his orgasm, he moaned into your neck, biting down on the flesh until he shuddered to a halt, cock still twitching inside you.

He kissed and kissed at the mark, apologizing for the redness and any pain, kissing at your lips only when you told him it didn’t hurt too much, and that you liked it.

Your hand finds the mark now, careful not to disturb him. Running your fingers over the mark, the bumps and indents of his teeth still remain and you still feel him, the pain gone and leaving with it a memory of heat and wanting, a tattoo of recollection that makes your chest feel tight. It’s strange, you think, to feel marked and claimed without anyone truly wanting the possession of you, a feeling that makes you feel lonely rather than alone.

Turning over to look at him, making sure your do so lightly, you eyes catch sight of his tattoos, the dark lines and art casting shadows on the veins and always so tantalizing to touch. Cuddling closer, you run your hands through his hair, aware that an action like this is both too affectionate and too risky, but you find it can’t be helped.

A few months ago, you discovered that he enjoys having his hair stroked, though you never do so when he's sober and certainly not when he's awake. But when he's sleeping, and you've been lucky enough to have him, he cuddles into your touch, whining with a puff of air through his lips. He's needy, your favourite thing to learn about him - a man so notoriously detached from connection and romance craves it with all of himself when his guard is down, and when he doesn't know he wants it at all.

The sun hits his skin in ways it seems to avoid your other partners. Lately, you've woken up with other people and watched the way the sun carves edges into their skin that makes you feel hollow. It does not make them ugly, just harsh, illuminating all the reasons they aren't what you want, only just what you needed - briefly and for a limited amount of time. On Chanyeol, the sun finds a home, turns the tips of his ears pink and adds dimension to the dark strands of his hair, the curls turning from a deep brown, almost black, to a rich chocolate, turning him amber and amber, and turning your heart to amber, frozen in the single moment of your admiration.

His eyelashes splay over his cheeks as he sleeps, a slight flush of rose smeared against the bone, and you smile, knowing that even under blankets with another person the heat is sweltering, You're warm too, always a little too warm with him, but for some reason you don't mind. Always, you push yourself away in bed, careful not to touch or be touched after you've had your fill, looking forward to leaving but not really sleeping, chest filled with great disdain for accidental contact.

With Chanyeol, sleep comes easily, easier than it does even when you're on your own, and so you've learned to hate leaving - often already left, body finally relaxed into a state of comfort with him, rousing only when he has departed entirely and craving the lack.

Having spent too long thinking around and through him, beyond comparison and into craving, Chanyeol's eyes begin to flutter with the first traces of wakefulness. Feeling adrenaline seep into your veins, you pull your hand away, dropping it carefully on the pillow beside your head and closing your eyes, hoping he does not notice or feel your movement.

For a moment, there is only silence. Silence and the deep, low growl that always accompanies Chanyeol's yawns. Biting the inside of your cheek, you force yourself not to smile, always amused by the sound and the way it resonates around the room, long and aching as though he pulled it from deep within his soul. When he's quiet again, the sudden lack of noise, only his even, smooth breaths remaining, feels painful, hair on your arms standing on edge, defying the weight of expectation.

'Really?' Chanyeol's voice comes as a soft mumble, a whisper of reverence that makes your chest flush. You're glad to be covered by the blankets, the pink heat of it hidden from view. 'Again?'

Not a trace of displeasure tints his voice, the smile he wears offering a gentle caress to the cadence of his tone. If you could, you'd sigh in the breadth and the wake of it, luxuriating in the way his smile can never be hidden, not even by the darkness of your closed eyes and the icy cruelty of the morning sun. Chanyeol drips everywhere, all over you and into your soul, smiling to himself in his own amusement and smiling into your spirit, giving you wings enough to feel carried through the day.

It's enough to make you want to stay. It's enough to make you think it could be easy.

But he moves under the sheets and the spell is broken, reality scratching at your shoulders, reminding you this kind of softness is never reserved solely for you, especially not when you’re sober.

You focus on keeping your eyes calm and still beneath your eyelids, waiting for him to depart and counting down the seconds to the loss of his warmth, his touch, and his attention. Idly, you wonder if you’ve ever waited long enough to wake up with him, realizing that there is no record time to make it to, no goal to achieve before the norm feels broken. By missing the dawn and having your fill, you’ve already broken the mold, and now you must start over, from nothing and from everything all at once.

The pillows and the sheets wrinkle, bed shaking with the motion of his long limbs, but the warmth doesn’t leave you. Instead, it comes closer, one of his legs sliding between yours, the bone of his hip meeting the curve of your stomach as he curls into you. Chanyeol brings himself closer, humming with a rumble of contented bliss, and your heart lurches into your throat.

A lump forms. Panic rises. You feel yourself drawn into him by your own accord, lured, like always, just as a magnet to its pole, to the cascade of affection radiating from his soul. And it would be so easy to give in, to let yourself fall back asleep and pretend you didn’t feel him, you never felt him, that this whole time it was him who was preparing to leave, but you can’t.

To let it continue would only be a detriment to your soul and to your heart. And so, however unwillingly in the effort of self-preservation, you furrow your brow, assume the imagined expression of a person learning to greet the day, and open your eyes, met, instantly, with the kind tenderness of his stare.

Blinking at him twice, you let your eyes adjust - to his brightness, to the feeling of seeing him see you first, before anything else, and to the notion that he has not moved. Chanyeol does not pull away, not even a little.

'Morning,’ he whispers, settling deeper into the pillow, getting comfortable.

Strands of hair fall into his eyes, your fingers twitching, straining with the effort of keeping still and refraining from wiping it away. Chanyeol narrows his eyes and blows them off his forehead instead, shaping his lips into a perfect circle. The air leaves your lungs, leaves you breathless, transfixed by their pink softness.

'Hi,’ you manage, the word barely more than a murmured breath of acknowledgement.

He chuckles, wiggling his toes against the bed. The muscles in the leg caught between yours flex, and you wait for him to comment on the intimacy of this position, but he does not. 'Day one and we're already at it.'

It’s your turn to laugh, looking away from him, sheepish. 'We've been making a habit out of this.'

'We?' he exclaims in mock offense. 'I think you mean you?'

'Me?' you laugh. 'You were the one all sad and looking for a kiss after you lost, what? Kings? Beer pong? Whatever the fuck you were playing.’ Letting your smile fall into a pout, you regard him with wide eyes, teasing. ‘Jae and I just wanted to play Mario Kart.'

'I didn't need a kiss,' he whines childishly. 'I wanted a hug or something. If you didn't give me one I would have been fine.'

Rolling your eyes, you click your tongue. 'You are literally the least self aware person on this planet.' Gasping, Chanyeol wiggles in the bed in protest, and you press your hands against his chest, laughing. 'Calm down, you know you are! How do you do that?'

With a deep pout and a huff, Chanyeol stops his fussing and lets silence fall over the room once more. He doesn’t make any motions to leave, and you keep your eyes on his muscles, waiting for any sign of abrupt departure, keeping yourself on edge. Your hand leaves his chest, skin still tingling with the contact, bringing it under the sheets to press your nails into you leg, hoping to erase the sensation.

In all his fussing, Chanyeol has brought his chest as close to yours as he can, close enough one deep inhale on your part would press your breasts against his sternum, and so the motion of your hand beneath sheets, accidentally and inadvertently, grazes against his side. Eyes going wide, Chanyeol pushes away, albeit not far, a playful smile of protest tugging at his lips.

'Stop!' he yelps, though it falls away with little protest, revealing an undercurrent in his tone than sends a shiver down your spine. 'That tickles!'

Drunk on the power of this moment, you smirk. 'You big baby, I didn't do anything!'

Even as it happens, you can feel this moment and the weight it carries, the change it means to deliver. Biting your lip, you watch as Chanyeol remains still, expectant, eyes alive with a hunger that keeps you nervous and, conversely, invigorated, driven to know what a look like this could mean. Something about this look speaks of desire, longing, and encouragement, and so you act quickly, with little thought at all, hooking your leg over his hip to flip him on his back.

Straddling his hips, you bring both your hands to his sides, and tickle him, keeping your thighs locked on either side of him as he fights.

Loud in general, Chanyeol’s laugh is thunder against your skin, an earthquake that battles at your sternum, demanding entry to your heart. His laughter his loud and so is his yell, the yell of defeat he releases as he grips your hips, head thrown back and eyes closed, smile on his face bordering in ecstasy.

But he yells, and in the aftermath, you both pause, halting your motions, watching one another in abject shock.

People have seen you - everyone sharing this Air BnB with you has seen you with him. Waking up with Chanyeol is not new, hardly a new development that could surprise anyone.

The first time you kissed, you were both wasted - exceptionally, beautifully caught in the throws of a haze that made you both ravenous for attention. It had been Baekhyun's drunken suggestion, tossed nonchalantly into the wind as a way to break the tension and ensure you both received what you were looking for, thus leaving everyone else alone. In a way, your lips on Chanyeol was a drunk form of entertainment, a way to prove to everyone, and to yourself, that friends - best friends - could kiss and make out and still come away unchanged, perhaps closer, delighted that boundaries had been blurred without any real consequences.

And so you kissed him with vigor, kissed him hard and long, mostly to make everyone laugh or gasp, waiting for a reaction, but partly, and in many ways most of all, to prove to yourself that you could. You kissed him as a means to prove to your aching heart that the torch it had been carrying and feeling ultimately meant nothing and that, with one taste of Chanyeol's lips, you would be sated and disinterested, glad to have someone to keep you comfortable when your skin flares with desire for a pair of hands.

The problem, in the end, was that you kissed Chanyeol and then seemed to never stop.

The second time, it escalated to his fingers against your waistband, teasing the skin while he sucked your bottom lip, hesitation in his touch but not his tongue.

The third time, he'd left marks on your shoulder and your teeth had marred his neck purple, and everyone had noticed, your foundation not a match for his complexion; your breasts ached with the feel of his palms for days, desperate to feel the force of his touch once more.

The fourth time, he'd asked you if you wanted him to stop, lips wet with your kisses and the traces of his beer, eyes wide and affectionate, and aware enough to be concerned. His hands lingered at the waistband of your sweats, gripping the fabric tightly, while your legs lingered at his hips, your shirt discarded somewhere across the room. You told him no, don’t stop. You never wanted him to stop.

The fifth time he did not ask if you wanted him to stop. It was clear you didn't want him to, not with your mouth around his cock. He paid you back in kind with three fingers in your cunt and his lips kissing against yours, smirking possessively until your came around his knuckles. You watch, cheeks red and soul blanched, as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes on yours the whole time.

The sixth time, there was no room for words - not with the way he gasped as he fucked into you, and not between the moans he pulled from your throat with each snap of his hips. There were no words after the orgasm, your body still shuddering against his while he held you, his own lips pressing soothing kisses to your neck and chest, right above your heart.

There hasn't been room for words since, not for at least nine months, perhaps even longer - you've really only started counting the times where you woke up with him, not the times your mouths found one another accidentally on purpose.

And so, everyone is aware of this silent agreement - all agreeing silently not to talk about it because the tension always seems to disappear in the morning. But with Chanyeol looking up at you now, eyes wide and cheeks blanched, you know he's not ready for someone to see you in bed. Something about being found feels to real, to raw, and you’re not sure either of you are ready to bear that cross.

Your heart sinks. Your mind races. You realize this is why it’s best to leave, even if it hurts.

Chanyeol rolls his hips up into yours, his erection pressing against your core as a reminder you both are naked and wrapped against one another in the sheets. His hands grip tightly at your hips, your own hands pressed against his sides, careful not to move, as he rolls up against you once more. Eyes falling closed, you remind yourself this is his favourite position. He’s said as much, declaring it so because he gets to kiss you, keep his hands on your breasts, and wear you like armor - his drunken words six months ago when you came so hard around him you thought the prison of your bones had been shattered.

Grinding down onto him, responding in kind to his movement, you wait to see if he will meet your pressure, but he doesn’t. Chanyeol keeps still, trapped in a state of wait but for what you can’t be sure. Mind fogged and heart starting to feel like glass, you can never seem to truly sense the needs of his body when you’re sober - your own mind and body wrought with the pleasure it feels and the awareness that it still feels good, perhaps even feels best, without the burning edge of alcohol laced through the satisfaction.

For what feels like too long, Chanyeol doesn’t move, his hands on yours an anchor that only serves to remind you of all the ways your feelings and his touches are a problem.

'Sorry,' you say, keeping your voice even and clear. 'I didn't mean for that to get loud.'

Sliding off his hips, you don’t bother remaining in bed, too awake to let yourself pretend anymore. Throwing your legs over the side, you look down, seeing the clothes you’d thrown in your haste. The memory of how Chanyeol hadn’t bothered to fully remove his jeans, sliding them down his thighs enough to push inside you turning your mouth dry. With no trace of your underwear and the nearest thing being your shirt, you sigh and rise to a stand, putting it on with a stretch. The hem of the shirt just falls to the curve of your ass, rising up slightly each move of your arms overhead.

Outside the window, endless white seems to filter through the gaps, a too bright sheen battling against the sun. The hardwood floors sting their chill against your toes, and you hug yourself in a shiver, glad for the snap of winter to keep you grounded and level headed.

'You're not gonna put underwear on?' Chanyeol asks, breaking the silence with a tight voice.

'Calm down,’ you laugh, keeping your chastisement soft. Walking away from the bed, your nod in a vague direction. 'My bag's over there, I'm not going far.'

Crossing in front of the footboard, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s pushed himself up against the pillows, erection tenting the sheets gathered at his waist as he watches you, pupils dilated and jaw tense. His hands remain nowhere insight, body still and chest flushed. It’s the sort of vision that will stay with you long after the morning has passed, taking possession of this moment with greedy hands and fingers, and you smile, unsure how the expression truly looks, not bothering to mask any of your emotions, if only for this moment.

Chanyeol’s head tips back, nostrils flaring as he exposes more of his neck in the effort of appearing long, powerful, imposing. Wetness gathers at your core once more, threatening to glide onto your thighs from the force of your desire, and you turn away from him, looking back out the window, hoping for a distraction.

'It snowed last night,’ you muse, hoping the white blanket beyond the curtains can help ease the racing of your heart, the empty expanse soothing.

'Must be why I slept so well.’ Chanyeol’s words are heavy, thick, and you try not to focus on the sound, aware of the effect it will have on the clenching of your thighs. 'Finally cold enough for your body heat.'

Rolling your eyes, you shift your gaze from the window and crouch in front of your suitcase, careful not to bed over or to tease. 'You say that like you're not a personal heater,’ you counter, rifling through to find your favourite hoodie. ‘Or like you don't actually sleep well after you've fucked me.'

Chanyeol huffs, sounding petulant. 'It's the orgasm.'

'Well,' you laugh, sliding on your underwear with a sway of your hips, 'at least I still get to say I'm responsible.'

Pulling your hoodie over your head, you immediately regret your choice. Chanyeol was the last person to borrow this, the fabric having taken on his sent - or, maybe, it was his to begin with, and you had stolen it. It’s been passed between you both so many times neither of you really remember who has rightful possession, sharing it with mutual custody. The problem, now, is that it smells like him and is too warm, too thick, for the bedroom, the heaviness of both these things making you feel light headed.

'I'm gonna go make brunch,’ you announce, giving yourself an escape as you turn to face him once more. 'Can I expect your help with the pancakes?'

Head tipped back against the headboard, he nods minutely. 'Yeah, just need a minute.'

Humming in a noise of acknowledgement, you duck out of the room, considering all the lines you’ve crossed from the moment you opened your eyes. Too much touching, too much laughing, too close - far closer than you’ve ever been while sober, blurring the limits and boundaries you’ve defined for yourself. The taste of alcohol lingers on your tongue, but it does not linger in your blood, aware that the choices you made this morning were done with clear, selfish rationality.

Walking down the stairs, you’re glad for the distance you put between one another, giving himself time to think and yourself time to rebuild your armor.

The kitchen is far cleaner than you remember it being, glancing over to the open expanse of the living room to see this, too, has been cleaned. Smiling, you make note to thank Minseok and Jae, both early risers who likely sorted most of the mess before taking their morning run together. In a distant room, Baekhyun snores, though there remains no sign of Jongdae, the door to his room fully open and bed empty when you passed. Briefly, you wonder if this will be like the time you found him on the lawn in college, passed out with a bottle of beer in one hand and a smile on his face.

The thought makes you smile, but you imagine since there’s snow, if this did happen, he would have woken up and moved himself somewhere warm - you trust him at least enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You’re grateful for the silence of the house as you begin to cook, the one thing that truly relaxes you, an automatic response of your hands married to your eyes, having long surpassed the need to measure, plan, or time your actions. Chopping garlic, your hands do the work for you while your mind walks, travels far back beyond the first time you kissed Chanyeol, looking for clear moment to define when your feelings changed.

Still, you come up empty, aware that it likely wasn’t any one thing that turned your feelings of love from platonic endearment to deep rooted longing. Rather, it was a lot of little things that accumulated over time. Intimacy is a thing that is gained, gathering not unlike the snow during a storm, piling until you notice it and until it sticks - until, in the end, you find yourself buried, unwilling and unable to moved back to your prior state, not unless the season of your heart changes.

Intimacy between you and Chanyeol had gathered almost violently, aggressive in the way you suddenly anticipate his movements, skin hungry for his and heart ready to give and give all of yourself over to all of him, without question or hesitation. With Chanyeol, you do not hide, you know that you do not have you. With Chanyeol, you know that you are accepted unconditionally, already aware of your greatest flaws and still supporting you in spite.

With Chanyeol, you know there needn’t be a reason for you to have fallen in love with him, accepting, in the end, only the knowledge that you did. Most of all, the knowledge that a love like this, was ultimately inevitable.

Whisking the eggs and garlic together in a bowl, you feel Chanyeol enter the room rather than hear him. With your back to the entryway, the atmosphere seems to change simply because he is there, the electric shock of awareness running down your nerves. Food was the first thing you shared with him, long ago and long before you knew his name, dipping your fry into his milkshake with his permission the night Baekhyun introduced you.

Over time, you’ve continued to share food: drunk breakfasts, sober dinners, holiday meals cooked together, prepared in quiet understanding of one another’s movements. Every time you cook together, the chaos that usually follows you is seemingly absent, falling into a comfortable, wordless flow.

A smile pulls at your lip, glad for the familiarity of the silence that will come from his help. Cooking with Chanyeol, there will be no need for conversation, hopefully eradicating the sensation that anything has changed at all.

'Can you start making the pancake batter?' You don’t bother to take your attention away from the eggs, already imagining his small nod and proud smile. 'You're so much better at pancakes than I am.'

Chanyeol comes behind you, pressing his chest firmly against your back, curling over your short frame as he drops his chin onto the crown of your head. You pause, lifting your eyes and keep them trained straight ahead at the wall and the cabinets, waiting for his petulant whine of disinterest. Or, perhaps, his claim that he doesn’t want pancakes and would rather have toast, something far easier to make when hungover but equally as hearty.

He’s done this before, after long bouts of teasing and usually in conversation, wrapping around your body to make your movements difficult, to slow you, to tease you. Chanyeol has done this before but he has never done it the morning after, certainly never done it with drink still in his system and without expectation. Closeness like this always demands more, and you feel too sober to let yourself get carried away.

Forcing yourself to smile, you run through these thoughts and prepare for his complaints, building up your walls on instinct. Instead and without warning, he brings his hands beneath your hoodie and shirt, pressing his fingers firmly against your skin as he hugs you close, tight enough you imagine he is seeking to bind you to him.

'It's cold,' he whispers, as though this explanation is sufficient enough.

'Yeah,' is all you can manage.

You wonder if he is lying, if he actually is cold at all, his hands and fingers perfectly warm to the touch. If he were cold, you’d already have swatted him away, startled by the chill of his skin. But he remains, and you let him stay, his heat flowing and spreading over your skin like a fever. The warmth of this is familiar enough to water you, tongue feeling heavy as your walls clench around nothing.

'You're warm,’ he continues, tipping his head down to kiss against your hair as he speaks.

You blink. 'Are you still drunk?'

He laughs, shaking his head against yours and messing up your hair. 'No.'

'Hungover?' you try, needing an explanation, an answer - any clue to assist in your next response.

'Not really?' he muses. 'You left water by the bed before we fell asleep, so I feel a little better. You're always taking care of me.'

With a small, happy sigh, he hugs you tight, leaving no room for air between your bodies. He brings his chin to your shoulder, turning inward and letting his nose graze along the tendon of your neck as you tilt for him, giving him room and access against your best judgement.

'Chanyeol.'

'What?' he mumbles, eyes closing, eyelashes ticking your skin in the process

'What are you doing?'

The words come heavy and thick, so unlike the soft, kind words of affection you like to give him when he’s like this. So too unlike the words of playful abjection that comes from feigned irritation, reminding him and your friends and yourself that you are, in fact, just friends.

Just friends and nothing more.

He furrows his brow, and you can feel the tension in his cheeks as he does so. 'What do you mean?'

Turning your body in his hold, his hands maintain their position as they slip to the small of your back. Gingerly, he lifts his head just enough for you to regard him, cool and bewildered. Remaining careful, your own hands grip the curve of the counter, knuckles tight with the effort of not reaching for him, wrapping around him with the same, easy affection. Your eyes search his face, his small frown of concern and his deep, chocolate eyes filled with such warmth and vibrancy, the very closeness of him making your chest burn with ardor.

Taking in a deep breath, you gather the strength to speak. 'We do this when we're drunk,’ you say simply.

It hurts to say the words, to bring the very grandeur of him down and to name yourself as the reason for his withering expression. But it hurts more to let your hands and lips and heart kiss at the glimmers of hope. It hurts just as much as the way it renders him so small, so impossibly small and young and lost, his eyes reading your expression as anxiety begins to seep into his irises.

'What if I want to do it when I'm sober, too?' he tries, the quietest he’s ever been, especially around you.

Casting him a quizzical, hesitant stare, you bite your lip, attempting not to feel wounded or boxed into a label that hurts. 'You mean officially be friends with benefits?'

Chanyeol pull back from you a little more, blinking as the color drains from his cheeks. 'Is...is that what you want?'

Something in his eyes tells you that he’d give this to you if you said yes. His admission for wanting this sort of intimate closeness when he’s sober says he’d give you this if you said yes, feeling as though he’s won the universe with sex and a best friend, and a world of other options ready and waiting for his touch. He’d give himself to you, too, you see it in the way he bites his lip, making sure you felt pleasure every moment, your world colored into ecstasy, the limits put on pleasure suddenly rendered obsolete.

It would be so easy, to have him and simultaneously have nothing at all.

And so you swallow thickly, aware that moments like these are tests of love - self love, and little else. Chanyeol has granted you a rare opportunity to be honest with yourself, even if you are not directly being honest with him, fully aware that you are too selfish to want only a fraction of his whole. With Chanyeol, you want all of him - you want absolutely everything, having tasted both sides of his soul, even if you have not tasted them altogether.

'No.' You shake your head, lungs empty of oxygen, speaking within a hollow exhale of emptiness. 'I don't think I could stomach that.'

'Oh.'

He regards you with a crestfallen expression, shoulders and posture falling as your resolute answers weighs him down.

Bewildered by this unexpected response, you decide to be completely honest, fully aware that unless you say something, he will absolutely never figure it out for himself.

'You have to know it's been hard for me, right?' you try, cocking your head to the side in a silent plea. 'The last few months of this?'

'We can stop -'

You cut him off, closing your eyes and shaking your head. 'That's exactly my point, Chanyeol.' Your grip tightens on the counter, bracing yourself for this fall - this time, likely, away from him. 'I don't want to stop. I keep having to stop when we wake up and walk away. I'm -’ your voice breaks, throat tight and mind racing. Taking in a deep breath, you let yourself say it, all of it, without reservation. ‘I want more, constantly. I want all of you to myself. You know I'm inherently selfish, and also inherently direct. So I'm just letting you know I can't be your sober friend with benefits. I think that would kill me. I want you too much.'

When you finish, Chanyeol swallows, your gaze drawn to the movement within his neck. In your chest and hands, your pulse is racing, blood moving at a pace that keeps you lingering on the precipice of falling or flying, feeling, all at once, not unlike Icarus.

'I don't want to be friends with benefits either,’ he says, shaking his head, almost imperceptibly.

Your grip loosens. Your stomach drops. Still, your nerves remember the sensation of his touch, bringing forth the memory in urgency, aware that, not an hour ago, you already had your last fill.

'Then…’ your voice drifts, words arriving on your tongue in the wrong order. ‘Do we stop? I know you Chanyeol, you can barely handle alcohol and I can't handle myself around you.'

Even if he wants to stop, you aren’t sure you can. Your desire for him has reached deep into the nodes of your lungs, spreading like spores into the crevices of your heart, your mind, your blood. Chanyeol fills you, everyday and all the time, especially when you are drunk. With a drink in your system, your lust and love for him hits you tenfold, and one look at him will never be enough, not with the memory of the taste lingering behind the vision.

'I don't even really want to be friends, either.'

His abrupt announcement makes you grateful your hands are on the counter, knees buckling with the weight and help upright by structural stability of the house alone.

'Oh.'

The word doesn’t sound like it comes from you, but you don’t bother clearing your throat. Really, you think you’d welcome the hold of the floor. At least it would never let you down.

'I want so much more of you than that,’ he clarifies, breath leaving his chest in a desperate, needy sigh.

Your skin starts to tingle as he presses you tightly against him, hands walking up your spine as he grinds his hips against yours. Letting himself get close, he nudges the side of your face with his nose before speaking, opening you to him.

'I want to be able to do this -’ Chanyeol leans down and places a kiss at your neck, tongue stroking the marks his teeth made the night before. 'Whenever I want.' The coolness of his breath against the wet spot he created makes your tremble, and he chuckles at feeling of you quaking in his arms. 'I want to touch you here -’ Abruptly, he slides his hands down your back, both palms cupping your ass with a firm squeeze ' - without you thinking I'm joking.'

Leaning back to make room for his closeness, you finally release your hold on the counter, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers card through the soft hair at the nape, scratching in a mindless pattern that makes him growl within his throat.

'And most of all, I want to taste you when ever I want.'

He captures your lips in a kiss that feels so unlike all the rest he’s given you. Sober and fully in control of your awareness, you cup his cheek, fingers toying with the tip of his ears as he parts your lips easily, running his tongue against yours with skilled prowess. The hot flash of his tongue is brief, removing a hand from your ass to guide your face up and back, moving to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.

Against your stomach, your feel the hardness of his erection begin to form, the solid feel of it sending a wave of desire to your core. Wetness pools between your thighs, and this time you are grateful for the underwear that separates you, letting your desire win over. The heat of your craving gathers in your veins, making your skin feel tight as his hand roams from your ass to the small of your back and down again, possessing what it can and claiming you for his own.

Breaking away to catch your breath, he rests his forehead against yours, feeling yourself recline into him.

'Chanyeol,’ you sigh, feeling slightly dazed and a little light headed.

In your chest, your heart battles against your sternum, sending waves of heat down and down into your core, feeling yourself become soaked, wanting to be full of him.

'You left me so hard this morning.’ He kisses along your cheek, letting his words cascade over your skin. 'I had to feel your wet cunt over my dick without getting to have my fill of you.'

Moving his hand from your cheek once more, he grabs your ass firmly, squeezes the flesh with vigor, rutting against you with a fervor that speaks of his need to be inside you. Over time, you’ve come to learn that Chanyeol is an inherently giving lover, so willing to offer pleasure first, the sense of pride in making you come likely its own form of eroticism, a stroke against his ego as pleasurable as a hand stroking at his cock. But, while he is terribly giving, he can often be impatient, his desire to be buried inside your walls sometimes rushing him past foreplay.

Most days, you do not mind, just as desperate to feel full of him and to sate the empty feeling that always comes with his departure. Today, it is your turn to be greedy, your own ego riding a high at the thought of leaving him wanting.

'All you ever have to do is ask,’ you smile, coquettishly cocking your head to the side. 'You know that.'

Moving your hand from his neck, you glide your thumb along his bottom lip, feeling the plump softness. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he sucks your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tip before releasing it. On instinct, your legs part wider, making room for him and making room for the feel of him.

Dipping to capture lips in another kiss, his hands massage the flesh he holds with deft fingers, squeezing hard enough to lift you up onto the counter. Pulling back, he swallows hard and grips both your thighs, pulling you to the edge and wrapping your legs around his waist.

'Can I fuck you?’ he asks, kissing against your lips as he speaks.

Chuckling, you nip at his bottom lip, a small whine escaping your chest as he thrusts against the thin fabric of your underwear. Beneath his sweats, it’s clear he wears nothing else, the heat of his erection seeping through to your core, creating a wet patch in the shape of the head of his cock.

‘You’ve been fucking me,’ you sigh, voice caught between a laugh and a moan.

‘I want to fuck you,’ he clarifies, leaning down to place his teeth against your bite mark, grazing gently. ‘I want to fuck you and I want it to mean something.’

Pressing your heels against the back of his thighs, you roll your hips against him as best you can as you pull him close, clicking your tongue. ‘Have the last nine months meant nothing to you?’

Abruptly, Chanyeol raises his head and regards you in abject shock, looking stricken.

Blanching, you search his face for a problem. ‘What?’

‘It’s been a year,’ he explains, assertive in his tone.

‘A year?’

He nods. ‘It was a year last month.’

Time swirls around you, catching up to you only to depart once more, the timeline of your love and lust for him blurring together to one long, extended always.

Clutching his neck and pulling him close, you kiss him, hard and demanding. ‘I’ve only been counting the times since we started waking up together.’

He smiles, moving a hand from your leg to rest between your bodies. Slipping his hand beneath the hem of your hoodie and moving it out of the way, he finds the space between your parted thighs and brings his fingers to the clothed barrier of your slit. ‘I’ve been counting it from the first kiss,’ he clarifies, pressing lightly smirking at the wetness he finds.

‘We’ve wasted a whole year,’ you manage, ending on a gasp as he moves your underwear to the side and drags his finger over your cunt.

‘I’m too impatient to waste anymore time.’

Taking your lips once more, he moans into the kiss as he teases your slit with his fingers, moving his tongue against yours in the same rhythm, gliding over your wetness. Curling around him, your hands roam over his chest, his arms, his shoulders, gripping his muscles through his shirt. One hand moves down his sides, making him gasp in oversensitive shock against your mouth, before your grip settles on the waistband of his sweats, tugging at them.

The tips of his fingers against your cunt become insistent, offering teasing, gentle breaches into your wetness, wanting more and all of you.

‘How many fingers do you want?’ he questions, walking his free hand down your back and over to your hip, thumb rubbing circles against the skin.

‘Three,’ you breathe against his lips. ‘It feels best with three.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he smirks, hand moving from your hip and over the soft fold of your stomach, palm settling with a rough grip against your breast. ‘Always so greedy.’

Pushing at his thighs with your heels once more, the movement of your legs makes you aware of the cold marble of the counter, aware that this is the most public you’ve ever been - breaching more boundaries in one day than you ever had before.

‘Shouldn’t we move?’ you ask, gasping as he presses his index and middle finger inside. You clench around him, wishing for more, for something larger, thicker, and deeper.

Feeling the tightness, he smiles, offering shallow thrusts with his hand that slowly increase in speed. His other hand massages your breast idly, thumb pressing against your nipple as he smiles.

‘Don’t want to,’ he mumbles, setting a deep, languid pace with his hand. ‘I’ve needed you since I woke up.’

Moving your hand under the band of his sweats, you scratch along his hip bone, pleased with the way a shiver ripples through his muscles. The memory of his hard length pressing against your ass when you woke up gives you a sense of power, digging your nails deeper into his skin.

‘Poor baby.’

Chanyeol whimpers, pressing deeper into your core and dragging a moan from your chest as he pulls his fingers out, only slightly.

‘Don’t tease,’ he chastises, hands moving from your breast to your back, pulling you closer as your other nipple rises, waiting for attention that will not come. ‘I’m hard enough for you it hurts.’

Sliding your hand forward, you walk your fingers down, tracing the fine hair of his happy trail down to the thick wires of his pubic hair and smirk, proven correct. Beneath his sweats, Chanyeol wears nothing at all.

‘What did you do without me?’

It’s an ambiguous question, vague and almost meandering, but he catches on immediately.

‘I used my hand and thought about your pussy on my tongue.’ The pace of his thrusts increases, curling upwards as your head rolls back, resting on the cabinet with a gentle thud. ‘Didn’t feel nearly as good as the real thing.’

Emboldened by his admission, you reach down and grip his cock firmly at the base, his fingers halting in their ministrations against your walls as he gasps, releasing a keening whine at the strength of your hand. Pumping him, you keep your gaze on his changing expression, watching as his features morph in the wake of pleasure.

‘Like this?’ you whisper, pumping his cock with long, languid strokes. ‘You touched yourself like this?’

Chanyeol leans forward, nodding, pupils dilated and lips parted. Spreading his fingers into a wide V, he stretches you in preparation, matching the pace of your hand against his cock. Like this, you share pleasure together, wetness gathering against his fingers and the blood of his cock racing beneath your palm.

‘Yeah,’ he breathes, sounding strained.

Finally, he grants your requests and he slips his ring finger into your core, pressed against his middle in an effort to maintain the stretch. Satisfaction courses through your veins, the bump and ridge of his knuckles against your walls putting tension in your thighs. Always enamoured with the size of his hands, three of his fingers inside you is a stretch that you relish, a whisper of the fullness you anticipate.

Using your other hand to tug his sweats down, you free his cock, increasing the speed of your pumps. ‘You’ve been a needy boy this morning.’

‘You make me that way,’ he moans, moving his hand up your neck to fist in your hair. He leans down, kissing at your jaw, down to your neck, sucking on the tendon he finds, mouth and tongue needy. The overwhelming sensation of being handled by him has your free hand gripping the small curve of his ass in pleasure.

‘I can’t take it,’ he announces, releasing your neck and tugging your hair back, demanding your attention. ‘Are you ready for me?’

Focusing on the intense expression he gives you, it hits you that your orgasm lingers not far off in the distance. With three of his fingers working at your walls, the slickness of you gathering at his hand evidenced by the wet noises that fill the air, you suddenly realize your are gasping for breath, flushed and hot and tense, thighs and back aching for a release.

Nodding, you close your eyes, releasing your focus on power and letting yourself be consumed by the sensation of being owned by him. Your wetness drips over his fingers, smeared onto your thighs and onto the counter, drenched for him the same way your body tightens for him, brought to the edge of desire by his touch alone.

Chanyeol pulls out his fingers, pulling from you a keening whine of emptiness, your muscles protesting the loss. His hand joins yours on his cock, twining your fingers together as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. It’s such a romantic expression of ardor, one that softens you more than you would have expected to feel, realizing now that Chanyeol is far more romantic than you might have ever given him credit for.

But he breaks this expression of soft, gentle romance easily, placing your hand on his hip while he pushes you forward, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

‘Need to be inside you,’ he mumbles, impatient.

Even when drunk, Chanyeol had adopted a habit of pausing at your core, letting your wetness smear over the tip as he grazes your slit. It could, you imagined, be a method of teasing you into submission, but always his eyes bore into yours, waiting for your approval. Now, totally sober and in control of himself, aware that you, too, are fully in control of your choices, he pauses, this time with far more hesitation than you’ve ever seen.

In this moment, flush creeping up his neck and into his ears, cock straining to be buried inside you, he pauses, waiting for your answer and giving you the opportunity to retreat. In this moment, for the first time, Chanyeol looks as though your answer weighs his happiness, appearing vulnerable behind the bravado of being so cocksure.

Reaching up, you brush the hair out of his face, glad that these touches get to belong to you, and nod, angling your hips to spread your legs wider, urging him inside.

With a low moan, Chanyeol thrusts into you, pushing through your walls and burying himself to the hilt. Your hands grip at his shoulder blades, a hiss of pleasure escaping through your teeth as you feel yourself stretch to accommodate his large girth. Chanyeol stills inside you, giving both of you a moment to adjust to the sensation of feeling one another, sober and without distractions.

The difference in sensation is difficult to rationalize, nerves and synapses entirely overwhelmed by how intense the feel of him inside you actually is. Without the alcohol to dull your awareness, Chanyeol feels so much more tactile and heavy, your walls stretched around him in a way that feels complete. You clench around him and he shivers, moving both hands to your hips, keeping you still as his head falls to your shoulder.

‘Don’t do that,’ he moans into your skin, words garbled from pleasure. Unable to help yourself, you do it again. Chanyeol squeezes your hips, offering a shallow thrust into your core. ‘Please,’ he begs. ‘If you keep doing that I’ll come faster than I want to. You’re so fucking tight, I can’t really take it.’

You let one of your hands find the hair at his neck once more, stroking idly in comfort while he moves in small, messy thrusts, getting used to the feel of you both without a condom and while sober. Stretched full of him now, your orgasm looms, a promise you can almost kiss without really feeling, but you don’t rush him to move, aware that he feels completely different - harder, longer, and deeper than you have ever experienced before.

Eventually, he pulls out to the tip and sets a hard rhythm, pressing the full length of his cock into you with each thrust. The pace he sets is not unusual, but the tenderness with which he ends his thrusts, almost slowing to ensure you feel every inch of his length and that he feels every aspect of your walls is tender, sweeter than he usually is. Last night, he was unforgiving in the way he snapped his hips against yours, both of your relishing the pain that came with your hips meeting and the stretch of your lips to accommodate him.

Now, he is almost careful with you, his hands pushing your hips to meet his every thrust while he kisses at your ear, tender and gentle, whispering praises of how good you feel.

‘You’re pretty,’ he whispers. ‘You’re so pretty like this, wrapped around me and completely mine.’

It's the first time he's allowed himself to be so possessive, using words that stake claim and allowing himself to be needy. You're not sure how long you've felt like his, perhaps always, but now you are glad to relish the title, aware that it is your rightful home, and your rest a hand on his cheek, titling his face towards your to kiss him.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue, but you smile against one another, Chanyeol fucking into you with an urgency that makes the muscles in your back and stomach coil, tense to your core as your body learns to take him deeper.

'Chanyeol.' You sigh his name against his lips, a whine following quickly after as he hits the spot inside you no one has ever reached, not even him. You hold onto him tightly, feeling the tightness of pleasure overtake your limbs, nails starching into his skin, tense.

'That's my girl,' he says, speeding up his thrusts.

Chanyeol moves a hand from your hip, working it between your bodies to swirl his fingers against your clit. On contact you moan, hand coming away from his shoulder to grip the handle of the cabinet as you roll up against him, needing more. You're not ashamed of how loud you are, forgetting there are others in this house - that you're even on holiday with someone other than Chanyeol, your high pitched whines unleashed with every hard press against your clit.

With his finger on your clit, your walls clench involuntarily, your orgasm approaching with a swiftness that startles you.

'Fuck, baby,' Chanyeol whines, his thrusts losing their sharp, even edge and becoming messy. 'Baby, you're doing it again - fuck, oh fuck.'

Chanyeol's attention your clit stutters, hand on your hip tightening as his head rests once more on your shoulder. You smile through your pleasure, eyes trained up at the ceiling in awe of how raw and full and warm he is. His boyish moans only lure your orgasm closer.

Still, you continue to clench around him, the swirl of his fingers driving you closer.

'Fuck,' he announces, fucking into you harder. ‘I’m gonna come.’

‘Yeah?’ you breathe, surprised by how quickly his own end approaches.

When drunk, it is not that he lasts for an explicitly long period of time, merely that he takes his time - foreplay takes time, his thrusts take time even if they are hard and fast and long. Now, he trembles against you, skin hot and neck damp as he lets himself get overwhelmed, straining to keep his pace. His arms shake, hand at your hip clutching to you as though your flesh and bone root him to the earth, but you are glad for this hold, pressed into the counter and held in place.

You, too, feel yourself become dizzy, dazed and overwhelmed by the stimulation of him. His natural scent mixing with the cologne already lingering on his shirt, the heat of the hoodie, the sound of his breath as he moans through his thrusts - louder than you ever remember him being - is enough to set the burn in your heart and chest to your core, your own legs shaking, a hard press to your clit rolling you up into him once more.

‘Come inside me,' you mutter, breathless and urgent.

Chanyeol's head rolls against you, his hips slowing in an attempt to slow his thrusts, but you clench around him, shuddering as a swirl over clit makes you quake, and he chokes, thrusting hard and deep, right against your spot.

‘Are you sure?’ he whines, kissing at your neck in desperation.

Taking your hand from the cabinet, you clutch at his shoulders, nodding. Realizing he cannot see you, you suck an inhale through your teeth, the muscles at the base of your spine building a pressure that sends your hips into his, messy and uncoordinated, pushing yourself to an end, even if it is not unified.

‘Just come,’ you affirm, scratching your nails down his back. He whispers a small, almost missed fuck into your neck, and you smirk, clenching around him in encouragement. ‘Come in me, I’m so close.’

He whines, hand at your clit stilling while still lingering, a teasing pressure that keeps you needy and on edge. Something about this barely there touch sends fractured and splintered waves of your oncoming orgasm down through your back and stomach, a ripple of an oncoming storm that has you quaking in his arms, feeling violent and wild.

'Come with me?' he tries, the words choked and garbled.

It’s the romance of it that does you in, you think. So many times over the last year, it seems, you’ve had Chanyeol and the hard edge of his eroticism, the teasing and possessive way he licks a full line of your slit before he presses his tongue inside; the way he leaves bite marks on your breasts, hand prints on your ass, marking you in all the places that say someone has been there before and will be again. Now, he asks for your heart, seeking a climax that is shared, kissing your hands and kissing your soul, entwining you together and staking a claim that says someone is here and always will be.

So it's the romance, seeing him so devoted to you and your needs, to your heart and your body, that makes you hold onto him a little tighter, legs widening to take him even deeper, all the way into your soul. It's the romance that has you nodding against him, gasping for breath beneath the heat of the hoodie, his touch, and in the wake of his thrusts, your orgasm burning beneath your skin, ready to shatter your bones.

Against your neck, he smiles. 'There it is,' he whispers, but you're too far gone to ask. 'I can feel you. This is my favourite, every time.'

Chanyeol presses his fingers against your clit once more, the shift from the teasing, cloying grazes you'd been feeling to the rough swirl of a circle sending your orgasm through your nerves. The world around you breaks, black and white and full of colours, the shapes of the world blurring behind your tears and into nothing as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands fist in his shirt, clutching to him as though afraid of disappearing altogether, the bliss and ecstasy of feeling all of him at once breaking over you in a wave that leaves your lips parted, his name spilling from your lips in a whispered, almost silent, scream.

His name spills from your lips at the same time he spills inside you, the sound of his orgasm reverberating into your skin. On him, your name is a shout of euphoria, almost victorious in the way he declares it, a tattoo of ownership against your neck. His warmth fills you, the heat of his come warm and almost unfamiliar, a sober experience that feels strange yet paradoxically so right.

Chanyeol slides his hands from your hips to your back, tips of his fingers rubbing circles at the base of your spine, something about this touch so overstimulating that you shake in his arms, drawing him closer and breathing him deep.

‘Mine,’ he mumbles, sounding so small and so shy. ‘Please be mine.’

It's hard to imagine how he would believe you belonged to anyone else, could ever want to after feeling all of him, right down to his soul. But Chanyeol has always been shy and insecure, the tremors of his bravado simply a mask that hides his nervous smile.

Your arm feels heavy as you lift it to his hair, carding your fingers through the strands and stroking him, soothing him. ‘Yours,' you agree, turning your head to kiss at his ear. Chanyeol rumbles happily against you, the heaviness of his limbs comforting. 'Only yours.’

‘Literally, what the fuck?’

Minseok's yell startles you both, Chanyeol flailing as he pulls back and thus pulls out of you, your eyes squeezing shut from the stimulation of it. He pulls you to the floor, hidden from view behind the kitchen island, covering your mouths to keep from laughing.

'This is...,' comes Jae's voice, drifting away in shock. ‘You’re both disgusting!’

Chanyeol's come begins to drip between your legs and you grimace, aware that the mess has spread elsewhere. Still, you don't really find it in you to be guilty.

‘You’re cleaning all of - whatever the fuck - on your own. I’m not coming in there,' Minseok declares resolutely, the sound of their footsteps drifting as they run, rather angrily, up the stairs and to their room where they close the door with a slam.

Moving his hands from your mouths you both erupt into laughter, Chanyeol collapsed on top of you as he howls. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you nudge him, rolling him off you as you reach up for a dish towel.

‘The good thing about sex on the floor,’ Chanyeol begins, watching you wipe his come off your thighs and the floor, ‘is that if it’s with the right person you don’t realize it’s the floor.’

Cleaned, your fist the towel into a ball and put it beside you, making a mental note to add that to the laundry. Turning to face him, you smile. ‘Want to find out if that’s true?’

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #exosnet #kpopwonderlandtag #exo smut #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol au #exo fluff #exo au #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #park chanyeol #chanvember 2019!

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 12

Word Count: 3,765

POV: Reader

Warning: NSFW, Sweet smut (is that a thing), Language, Oral, Sex

Notes: Big shoutout to the 4 new people that followed me to put me over 800 follwers and actually got me to post this early. Never imagined that this is where I’d be almost a year ago when I started this thing. I had this Crosby piece in my head even back then, and it’s been so amazing watching it come to life.So glad you guys enjoy it. So here’s the smut that has been building between these two since the beginning. Let me know what you guys think! Happy Reading!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

Part of you still couldn’t believe you let Sid kiss you right there as you were leaving Mario’s house. You knew some of his teammates saw you, but honestly after the whole night; you just didn’t care. Well, you did, since you really enjoyed your job, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t go back to your old one. They’d already asked you back a couple times, but you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

You still weren’t sure how a couple nights with Sid had led everyone, including him, to believe that the two of you were now dating. Were you guys that obvious? Of course, you knew Flower and Vero knew that something was going on between the two of you. Which lead you to believe that Tanger and Catherine also had an idea, but Mario? It just seemed unreal since the two of you hadn’t really defined anything until that night.

All these thoughts ran through your brain, as the two of you made your way back to Sid’s house. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Sid asked as you strolled hands linked together.

“I don’t know, everything…nothing…the whole entire night. Does that make any sense?”

He stopped so that he could look you in the eye when he answered. “Kind of. I mean tonight was kind of big a step.”

“Ya think.”

He kissed your forehead, before continuing. “Look (Y/N), I know this is all kind of moving fast, but it’s not like I haven’t been thinking about it…or rather you.” You understood that since he’d kind of been on your mind constantly as of late. “I was stupid last year, after Flower’s party. I thought you’d be this huge distraction to me and set me off my course for everything that I want to accomplish.” A dry laugh escaped his mouth. “It was really the opposite, now that I look back on it. Once I realized, that I could have both, I’ve thought of nothing but you…well, and hockey. It’s like we were made for each other, ya know?” Funny, you actually thought the same thing that first night that you’d really got to know him. Sure, you liked Sidney Crosby hockey player extraordinaire, but Sid the person…well that was someone that you could grow to love. “I think some people, the ones that really know me, realized this long before I did.” You knew he probably meant Mario, and Flower, among others. “But now that I know, I just don’t want to waste any time with all the bullshit stuff.” You cocked your head wondering what he exactly meant by that. “Well, maybe that’s not the right word, because I still want to take you out to fancy dinners and show you off. I just want you to be part of my world right now. Like I don’t want to have to wait, because I don’t think we need to.” You kind of understood what he was saying. It was as if you two had skipped the getting to know you part of dating, because well, you essentially already knew each other. You knew how he took his coffee, and what history books he had and hadn’t read. How even though he told the media oatmeal cookies were a good choice, he never called them his favorites, because secretly chocolate chip were. You also knew how he had to have a certain brand of peanut butter for his sandwiches. He was truly right; you two kind of had been dating all along.

He went to say more, but you stopped him. “You’re right. We don’t need official dinners or any of the other things. I know you Sid, and I think you know me. I like where we’re at right now, so let’s just keep moving forward.”

“So does that mean you’re going to tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll go.” You tugged on his hand to continue on to his place.

“And you’ll ride in my car in the parade then?” You hadn’t really given much thought to that. That would be a huge step. His parents would be there and all of Pittsburgh would be watching.

“Um…let’s just see how tomorrow goes.”

“Deal,” He answered, and put in the code to let the two of you into his drive. “So, can I talk you into coming in for a drink? Or maybe…”

“I think we’ve both had enough to drink.” It wasn’t like either of you were drunk by any means but you knew that neither of you needed another glass. “Why don’t you just ask me what you really want?” After last night, you kind of assumed sleeping over was going to be a thing with him.

“Ok. How about you stay the night with me, again?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You teased him before he pulled you close to him.

“Well if I knew you were waiting for an invitation; I would’ve asked the moment you pulled in the drive.” He spun you around, arms still circled around your waist, and made his way to the door. “So, no alcohol, but do you want something else instead?”

“Just water.” He grabbed two and then led you upstairs to his room. You remembered being up there the night of the Eastern Conference final win, but you hadn’t been adventurous enough to figure out which room was his. You’d simply made your way into what you assumed was the guest bathroom. This time though you took every little detail in. His room was off to the left, done in mostly shades of gray. It had a masculine aura to it. Quiet and understated, there were very few tokens of his hockey career in this room unlike some others in his house. There was a comfy chair by the window, with one of the history books you’d given him sitting on the side table next to it. You could picture him reading there as the rain gently hit the glass. He ducked into a huge walk-in closet, with built-in drawers and shelves, that any person would envy.

“I’m assuming you didn’t bring anything to sleep in.” You shook your head no and he pulled you out another one of his t-shirts just like he had a few weeks ago, then took your hand and headed into the ensuite. A massive jetted tub that could hold the both of you, captured your attention. Gray marble showcased the entire room, which had a double vanity sink and a shower with so many gadgets in it; you weren’t sure you’d know how to turn the water on. There were even two toilet rooms, one for him and one for her, which made you wonder what he was thinking when he’d remodeled the home or was this something in its original design. All in all, the entire master suite took your breath away, kind of like the man who owned it.

You set your bag on the edge of the tub. “Do you care if I lay these out to dry? Since someone threw me in the pool.”

“Of course, I don’t care, and in my defense, you had a bathing suit on already.”

It was true, but he still could’ve sounded a bit remorseful. “My dress is probably ruined though.” You knew it wasn’t but you enjoyed teasing him about it, as you laid the garment out on the tub.

He wrapped his arms around you and peered over your shoulder to look at it. “Hmm seems fine, though I’ll gladly buy you ten to replace it if I can throw you in the pool again.”

“Sid,” you chided.

“What? I enjoyed looking at it clinging to your body.” Your eyes grew wide, and you barely had time to comprehend his words as he spun you around and kissed you hard, turning you into jelly, before releasing you. “So, do you need a toothbrush or anything?”

“What, if I open one of these drawers, am I going to find your secret stash you keep here for all the women that sleepover?”

You were totally teasing him, but he frowned none the less. “You know it’s not like that (Y/N).”

“I know. I was just kidding you. Now, if you have a purple one, I’ll totally take that.” He smiled then grabbed one out of the multi-pack he had in the drawer. The two of you stood at the dual sink brushing your teeth like a couple who had lived together for the last six months. It was kind of surreal. Once you were finished you changed into the shirt he’d offered in the small toilet room. By the time you came out to the bedroom, he’d stripped down to his boxers and was taking pillows off the bed. “You know I forgot to ask you which side you wanted last night.”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m holding you.” It was corny and sweet, and it made you blush. The king-size bed seemed even larger than the one you two had shared last night, as you crawled in under the covers; Sid joining you. He shut the light off, then pulled you near. You were both laying on your sides facing each other, his arm draped across your waist, idly drawing small circles on your lower back. The smile plastered on his face was a mirror image of your own. Neither of you said a word, for a full minute, before you reached over and cupped his jaw, bringing your mouth to his. Your tongues mingled, lightly sucking and tasting each other. You let your hands roam down his chiseled chest feeling the muscles bunch under your touch. Your fingertips just lightly grazing over his skin.

His hand at your back pulled you closer so that there was barely any space between the two of you. You felt him reach for the hem of your shirt, and gently raise it so his fingers could caress your bare skin. Everywhere he touched set you on fire and you felt your legs move restlessly so that one was draped over the top of him. Sid’s hand glided up your sides and along the underside of your breast, making you whimper softly into his mouth. You longed to feel his touch there, and he didn’t disappoint as his thumb gently slid back and forth over your nipple.

You had to break the kiss for a second to suck in a breath of air, for he had you panting with need. But Sid just continued to kiss you; down your jaw, over to your ear, then sucking at the hollow of your neck, while his hand fondled your breast. It wasn’t enough though; you wanted more. Your hips flexed into him and you could feel the hard length of him against your body. He gently rocked into and you groaned from the pleasure. The two of you like teens dry humping each other afraid of being caught by their parents.

He slowed then, coming back up to sweetly kiss your mouth, as his hand dropped away for your breast. “No, Sid,” you whined. “Don’t stop.”

He pulled back to look at you, to make sure that this was what you wanted. “Are you sure?”

“God, yes,” You breathed out, then added. “I want you so bad.”

“Oh god, (Y/N), I want you too.” His mouth was on yours again with renewed passion, only breaking the kiss long enough to strip you out of his borrowed t-shirt. He rolled you onto your back, lifting up to stare reverently down at your body. “You’re so beautiful.” He said the words like a prayer, one full of worship and meaning, and then his mouth was on yours in the same manner. Kissing down your collarbone, to take one of your peaked nipples into his mouth. Your back arched into him and cried out with pleasure, your body responding to his every touch. He moved to your other breast giving it the same lavish attention, as your hands sifted through his freshly shortened locks to hold him to you. Involuntarily, your hips lifted up into him seeking something only he could give. One of his hands forced them back down. “Easy baby.” He whispered, then loving kissed your lips.

His hand at your hip skated down between your legs where he cupped your mound. You were slightly embarrassed as you knew that he could feel the wetness seeping through your panties there. All mortification was lost when the heel of his hand ground into your pussy. It was the exact friction you were looking for and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. His fingers danced along the folds of your lace-covered mound, teasing and making you squirm. When his index finger slipped under the edge of your panties, you about jumped off the bed, but his strong body pinned you down. A whimper came out of your mouth, as that same digit slowly dragged up your slit to circle your clit a few times.

He released your lips, both of you breathing heavily, as his finger still tortured your throbbing pussy. Sid’s mouth started its unhurried descent down your body. The covers of the bed falling to the bottom as he went, leaving your body exposed. His finger slid out, as his mouth hovered above the top of your panties. He breathed in your scent, before hooking his fingers around the strings and pulling them down. You lifted your hips up to help him, and in no time, he was tossing them to the floor. His hand glided up from your ankles, over your calves and onto your thighs, where he pushed your legs a little further apart. Lowering his head, he peppered your inner thighs with kisses, and you could feel yourself growing even wetter if that was even possible. The anticipation was killing you. You willed yourself to relax under his gaze, as you looked down at Sid, who was poised at your most intimate juncture. A small smile graced his lips before his tongue flicked out, licking his way between your folds. Just that small movement had you crying out. “Oh god,” you felt his grin grow wider against you, before sucking on your clit, tweaking it with his tongue. Your legs trembled slightly, and you fisted the sheets in your grasp, needing something to hold on to. He slid one of his long fingers inside you and had you moaning out loud. The digit moved in and out working you into a feverish frenzy, as his mouth worried your little nub with his lips and tongue. Everyone knew Sid excelled on the ice, but apparently, he was also an award winner in the bedroom.

You could feel the orgasm bubbling up inside your body, and as he slid a second finger into you; you were close to falling off the edge. Your hips bucked forward into his mouth, and he used a strong arm to keep you pinned to the bed once more. “Please…” you pleaded, as you chased the high that was just hovering out of your reach. He hooked his fingers then, making the come-hither motion; the action tickling that spot that would bring you the pleasure you sought. It started then, from deep within you; the small tremble of your legs, the way you panted out for air, and then it crested. A climax so strong, you found yourself screaming out his name, as wave after wave of pleasure wracked your body. Sid slowed his assault on pussy as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided.

Once your body had finally calmed, his fingers slid out of you as he lifted his head, that signature smirk on his face. He took the back of his hand, wiping away your juices that were left on him, before sliding up the length of your body. His mouth found yours and you could taste your essence still on him. It was heady and intoxicating and brought your body back to life. You skated your hands down his abdomen, to the waistband of his boxers, where you snuck your hand inside to feel his hard erection. He hissed out his pleasure as you took his length in your hand, just stroking him up and down. The garment impeded what you really wanted to do, so you pushed them down and he kicked them off. You continued to pump him, before breaking your kiss to nudge the wall that was his chest, so that you could take him into your mouth. Sid wasn’t having any of it though and he captured your gaze before taking your hand and removing it from his member. “Not tonight baby.” He kissed your lips again, before clarifying. “I won’t be able to last, and I want to be inside you.” You nodded your understanding, and he rolled off you to search the nightstand for a condom.

He ripped open the small pouch with his teeth. “Let me,” you asked taking the thin piece of latex in your hand. You stroked him a few times, biting your lip to keep from taking him inside your mouth. The condom rolled down his shaft and you tugged the tip leaving a small amount of space for him to fill with his seed. He drew your body down on top of him then, your chest pressed against his as your tongues mated together, mimicking what your bodies would soon do. He grabbed your ass and rolled you onto your back again; your legs wrapping around him as he did. Taking his cock in hand, he positioned himself at your entrance, lightly running it between your folds to coat it with your wetness, then nudging ever so slowly the tip inside. His left hand reached up and entwined with your right, as he carefully entered you inch by inch. When he bottomed out, you released a moan of delight at the feel of him within you.

“God you feel so good, baby.” He hissed out before capturing his lips with his. Only then did he start to move, interlacing his other hand with yours as he pumped in and out of you. It was a dance as old as time, and the two of you moved to a rhythm that had your body burning to a feverish crescendo. He sped up his pace, a sheen of sweat building on his brow, and while it may have been your first time with him; you knew that he was close to cumming. Breaking the kiss, he groaned with an effort to stave off his climax, determined to bring you with him. You shifted slightly, changing the angle, and then you were there, the orgasm peaking with each thrust of his cock.

“Sid,” you called out, his name like a benediction as you quivered underneath his body. A few grunts and sloppy thrust and he was there with you, moaning your name in his own ecstasy. With one last push, he slumped down on your body, sated and relaxed. When he went to roll off you, you held him close, just cherishing this moment for a minute longer. You knew the two of you had chemistry, it was there from the moment almost a year ago, but this; this was just on another level.

“I’m gonna crush you.” He whispered, a light chuckle to his voice as you finally let him roll you both onto your sides. As he did, his cock still stayed deep inside your body, though you could feel him going flaccid. He cupped your cheek and kissed you tenderly, his lips soft, gentle, and loving on yours. It was one that spoke to you on some other level, but you didn’t examine it too closely. “That was…” You held your breath waiting for him to finish even though you want to say that it was everything. It was magical, and wonderful, and almost like being in a dream. “Perfect,” he breathed out and you had to agree. It was the one word that encompassed all those things.

“Yeah, it was.” You echoed back. He slipped out of your body then and made a move to leave the bed. You didn’t realize you whimpered until he looked back at you.

“You ok?”

Of course, you were; you just missed the feel of him inside, on top of you and all around you. “Yeah,” you whispered before he leaned down and placed yet another kiss on your lips.

“I’ll be right back.” It hadn’t occurred to you that he was leaving to dispose of the condom until he slid it off. He made his way to the ensuite, where you could hear the water running. You slid out of the bed and padded your way across the floor to find him. He was splashing water on his face. As he padded himself off, he caught you staring at him, so you went and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Looks like I should be the one asking if you’re ok?” You dropped a kiss to his shoulder blade as the two of you stared at each other in the mirror.

“Better than ok.” He answered, then turned in your arms, his hands going to your waist and lifting you, to set you up on the vanity. He took the cloth he’d just wiped his face with, wet it, and spread your legs before wiping the remains of what had just happened between the two of you. Part of you cursed the loss, but the gesture was so sweet, it had your smiling in the end. Once he was done, he tossed the rag back into the sink, then wrapped your legs around his hips and carried you back to bed. He kissed your forehead, then your nose and finally your mouth. “Time to sleep.” He whispered and you smiled against his lips.

“Should we set the alarm?” You were so used to both of you getting up for practice that it was a force of habit to ask.

“I think we deserve to sleep in tomorrow (Y/N).” He chuckled. “We don’t have to be anywhere until late afternoon. Which gives us ample time to do that again.”

“Mmm, I do like what you’re thinking there.” He stole one last kiss, before tucking you into his side; your head resting on his chest. Your fingers danced along his skin as he ran his up and down your arm and you thought this just might be a little bit of heaven.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #Sidney Crosby Smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl smut #Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #smut

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

The Thing About You (Winteriron)

So this is for @ceealaina who lets me text me random horny-for-bucky things at all hours of the night and is also nice enough to not only answer, but also not to judge (which she should, cos after my after midnight texts are FUNKY) I love you muchly and I’m glad we fangirl together.

THERE’S MORE WINTERIRON ON MY MASTERLIST

***************

“Okay so here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony dragged a chair up to the kitchen table and turned it around so he could sit backwards, arms crossed on the back rest and chin propped comfortably. “The thing about Bucky is-- Steve, are you listening?”

“No, I’m not listening.” Steve snapped the newspaper open pointedly. “Because I’m catching up on current events and political happenings, as well as perusing coupons and having a chuckle at the funny pages. I am not listening to you wax weird about my best friend.”

“First of all, I’m waxing poetic about Bucky.” Tony huffed. “And second of all, my god you are an old man. You’re gonna have a ‘chuckle’ at the funny pages? Nobody talks like that.”

“Bucky talks like that, because he’s every bit as old as I am.” the Captain replied calmly. “In fact, he’s older than I am. So there’s a thing about Bucky, Tony. He’s ancient and its weird that you’re interested in someone sixty years older than you.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting in irritation. “You know... for someone who wears spandex and glitter while running around with a frisbee, you are the least fun ever.”

“Well at least my spandex and frisbee proves I’m not trying to over compensate for anything.” Steve turned a page and raised a knowing eyebrow. “Unlike the one person on the team who armors up in a flying suit that is at least eight inches taller than him. Hows that compensating going, Tony?”

“I....” Tony huffed again. “Well I-- I’m six feet tall! I am!”

“You’re maybe five and a half feet tall, Tony. Natasha calls you pocket sized when you’re not around.” Steve turned another page. “And by the way, I don’t wear glitter. It’s just the natural sparkle of my eyes and the healthy glow of my rosy cheeks.”

“Should’ve left you as a Capsicle.” Tony threw his hands up in the air and stalked away. “I’ll talk to someone else about Bucky!”

“Oh thank God.”

***************

“So here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony leaned against the side of the ring and watched Natasha obliterate a training dummy. “I can’t tell if I like his hands or if I just have a robot kink. Because that’s weird right? I build robots and sorta fly around in one, so having that sorta kink would be weird but also understandable, and since Bucky’s left hand is--”

“Okay.” Tasha pushed her hair out of her eyes and blew out a breath. “Tony, if you’re gonna sit here and talk about all the nasty stuff you want to do to Bucky’s hand, you’re gonna have to let me hit you. I can’t listen to this without punching something.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” He ducked under the ropes and picked up a set of gloves, motioning for her to start. “So I mean, not all that weird I’m into robotic things? Have you heard the noise his arm makes when he flexes? I wish I could make my armor make that noise but then again I feel like I’d have a boner all the time so-- OOOPH!”

Stunned and wheezing, Tony blinked up at Natasha from the ground. “Did you just knee me in the back of the head? How is that even possible?”

“Sorry.” she reached down to help him back up. “Men talk about boners and the knees start flying. Can’t help it.”

“Okay but seriously, how is that possible?” Tony smoothed down the back of his severely damaged hairstyle. “No B-words, I get it. Anyway, the thing about Bucky is that sometimes I think he’s purposefully doing things left handed so I will stare. Is that crazy? How would I even know that?”

“Well.” Natasha’s foot kicked out and damn near decimated Tony’s tummy. “You could use your words like a grown ass man and talk to him instead of letting me beat the crap outta you mid conversation.”

“I feel like you could also not try to disembowel me.” Tony pointed out. “Just-- just a thought. Disemboweling isn’t real conducive for conversation.”

“Creeping on Bucky around corners isn’t real conducive for conversation either.” she retorted. “I’m going to choke you out between my thighs now, okay?”

“Huh.” Tony looked down at himself in interest. “Look at that. Both robotic appendages and threats of death by thigh pop the proverbial B-word. Who knew?”

“I love you very much.” Natasha took him down with embarrassingly little effort, then smacked a loud kiss onto Tony’s lips as he tried to recover from his head bouncing off the mat. “Please go talk to Bucky. Stop talking to us about him, okay? Be an adult about this. You’re forty years old.”

“And pocket sized, apparently?” Tony challenged, and Tasha muttered something vaguely threatening about Steve in response. “Okay. I’ll see you later. And I love you too.”

***************

“So here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony pushed that weird perpetual motion thing off Pepper’s desk and lay out on the surface, legs dangling off the edge and feet kicking in the air. “He has amazing thighs. Like amazing. And I’ll fully admit I didn’t know I had a thing for thighs before meeting him? But Tasha just threatened to strangle me with hers and that was way hotter than it should have been so maybe I’ve always been in to them? When we were together, was I into your thighs?”

“Tony.” Pepper did one of those sighs that sounded like it came from the very depths of her soul. “I’m waiting for a all from an international client. Could we maybe talk about how you’re in love with quite possibly the most dangerous person in the world later?”

“We could, but I’m already laying on your desk and I think Tasha cracked one of my ribs so I’ll probably be laying here all day. It’s a little hard to breathe.”

“Get off my desk, Tony.”

“Not until you tell me if you like Bucky’s thighs too.” Tony maintained. “Is it just a me thing? Or is it like, a universal Bucky thing where everyone likes watching him squat?”

“Okay.” Another one of those sighs. “If I tell you how I feel about Bucky squatting, will you leave me in peace so we don’t lose this very important client?”

“...yes?”

“I like to watch Bucky squat because his butt is frankly, ridiculous.” the redhead admitted. “The thigh thing is a you thing though, I don’t know if it’s cos you’re short and are just jealous of long legs--”

“I AM SIX FEET TALL!”

“Aw sweetie, we slept together remember? You’re actually a few inches shorter than me.” Pepper wrinkled up her nose teasingly. “And since we agreed you’d leave once I talked about Bucky’s butt, would you please get out of here so I can work?”

“Fine.” Tony grumbled and groaned and whined a little as he rolled off the desk. “I’ll find someone else to talk to.”

**************

“Brucie bear.” Tony pillowed his chin on Bruce’s shoulder, cuddling close to his favorite genius. “Listen. The thing about Bucky is--”

“I’m holding a laser and I’ll use it to cut your nose off if you breathe down my neck about Bucky’s hair.” Bruce said flatly. “Don’t test me, Tony. I sat through your ‘thing about Bucky’ speech last week when you waxed weird about how his scowl turns you on and whether or not that is some reflection on your issues with authority and really just a plea from your inner self for some structure and discipline.”

“You got all that from my ‘Bucky’s frown makes me feel like a subby bottom’ spiel?” Tony’s eyebrows all but flew off his forehead. “I was going more for, ‘maybe he’ll turn me over those Thighs of Destruction of spank me’ but now I’m worried my inner self is pleading for structure and discipline.”

“Tony, I’m warning you. Laser. Nose. Stop talking.”

“Okay but the thing about Bucky is that he’d make an excellent Dom, right?” he decided. “Firm and you know... huge.. and I’m pretty sure he could-- EEK!”

The laser swept through the air close enough to singe Tony’s curls and he backpedaled into another table shrieking, “BRUCE!”

“I warned you.” Bruce went back to his work. “And for the record, you do need structure and discipline. No one would ever argue that point.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

**************

“Here’s the thing about Bucky.” Tony stole a big handful of popcorn from Clint’s bowl and shoved it all into his mouth. “He calls me all these nicknames, right? And it shouldn’t be half as cute as it is because I don’t like nicknames. Sam called Steve honey the other day and I actually threw a book at him. But Bucky called me sweet thing last night and I think I melted a little bit.”

“Yeah?” Clint had mastered the art of playing Mario Kart one handed while cramming snacks into his mouth with the other and somehow carrying on a conversation all at the same time. “Had to go upstairs and change your panties, huh?”

"WHAT?!”

“Oh please.” Clint emptied a pack of Skittles into his mouth and kept right on going. “It’s not like you two are subtle. Bucky called you sweet thing and you squeaked and sorta crossed your legs and then disappeared upstairs. We all assumed you had to change ye olde tighty whiteys.”

“Okay well.” Tony cleared his throat. “What I did upstairs isn’t important. The thing about Bucky is he’s the first person that could do you know... that... to me without even trying. I feel like a teenager with a crush. Like if I was fifteen again I’d probably do something embarrassing in my pants if he looked at me for two long.”

“Yeah, I totally get it.” Another pack of Skittles disappeared into the bottomless pit called Clint Barton. “Sometimes he gets to lookin’ all intense and sorta soft all at the same time and you don’t know whether you should stare back or blow right up cos it’s too much, right?”

“Yes!” Tony shouted. “Yes! Finally someone gets it!”

“Or like sometimes he puts all that dumb hair up in a bun and gives himself those ‘accidental on purpose’ bangs that are somehow super sexy hanging down into his eyes?”

“YES!” Tony could have cried in relief. “Yes, holy crap. He does that! It’s crazy hot!”

“And then how he folds him arms and smolders at you? Is he pissed off? Is he massively turned on? Who knows!”

“Oh my god.” Tony grabbed at more popcorn and nearly shouted around it, “Everyone acts like I’m crazy talking about him like this but you see it too!”

“Totally see it, Tony baby.”

“Yeah, cos the thing about Bucky is he’s insanely and sort of unfairly burly and fierce! I shouldn’t want to hear him growl! What even is that?! Where did that thought come from? Who growls and why would I find that sexy? And also, the other thing about Bucky is--”

“-- that he’s standing behind you and has been for at least ten minutes.” Clint turned off the game and smecked a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Good luck, man. Bucky, I’ll give you two the room cos I feel like things are about to get gross.”

“Ummmm.....” it was the worlds longest minute of silence as Tony sat stock still on the couch, eyes wide enough to hurt, his lungs definitely not working partly from Natasha’s workout early and partly because he was trying to just die right there so he wouldn’t have to face Bucky after saying all of... all of that.

“You gonna turn around and look at me? Or make me have th’conversation with the back of your head?” Bucky sounded like he was wearing his most lethal smolder and Tony felt a blush start somewhere around his toe nails and turn him scarlet clear to his scalp.

“Uh, listen.” He rotated very slowly on the couch, bracing himself for what was sure to be Captain America levels of disapproval. Bucky was from the forties, after all, and no one did disapproval like members of the greatest generation.

“Listen, I don’t know how much of that you heard. But I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything.” Tony flinched away from the knowing in those blue eyes, fully wanting to fold in on himself and just disappear. “Probably shouldn’t have been shouting about wanting to hear you growl or whatever but it doesn’t have to be--”

“I heard you’ve been talking about me.” Bucky interrupted and Tony flinched again. “Been chattin’ everyone up about all the different things about me?”

“Fuck my life, this is the worst conversation I’ve ever had.” Tony muttered. “Seriously Bucky just listen. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t really have a filter? And I say whatever I want to say to whoever happens to be around but that doesn’t mean that I really want to--”

He thought about he’d blurted out to Rhodey during their phone call at lunch. “-- climb you like a tree. Or hear you growl. That’s not a real thing. That’s not-- it doesn’t have to be a thing, I was just talking and--”

“You know the thing about you, baby doll?” Bucky came around the couch and pulled Tony up to standing, the glint in his gaze sharpening in anticipation when the brunette shuddered as their bodies brushed together. “The thing about you is that you talk a whole lot when you’re nervous and tryna cover it up, but you don’t got a reason to be nervous right now, alright?”

“Well I--”

“The thing about you, Tony is that a fella would be real dumb to pass up the chance to get you alone.” Silver fingers brushed over Tony’s cheek then slid into his hair and Tony had to work really really hard not to make the sort of noise that meant his underwear needed changed when all the plates in Bucky’s arm shifted and realigned so the big soldier could tug lightly at the loose curls.

“The thing about you, sugar.” Bucky stepped closer and lowered his voice to what was damn near a growl and whoops there Tony went trying not to melt into a vaguely billionaire shaped puddle. “Is you got the sorta lips that keep a man up at night wonderin’ just how they taste and how good they’d look stretched around my uh--”

Bucky wet his lips and grinned when Tony eep!ed a little in shock.

“Thing about you, Tony.” Their mouths brushed just barely, not even a real kiss but damn it if Tony didn’t grab onto those stupidly big shoulders for dear life anyway. “Thing about you is I’ve been hearing all the things you like about me and it seems like we should have a talk.”

“A talk.” Tony repeated hopefully. “A talk about-- about more things that involve kissing?”

“Think we should have a talk about how the things you like about me fit into the things I like about you.” Bucky decided. “And yeah, sweet thing, I think that should involve a whole lotta kissin’. That alright with you?”

“Uh yeah, here’s the thing about me, Buck.” Tony cleared his throat and stood on his toes-- the only time in the world he’d admit he was fucking short, thank you very much-- “I will always be just fine with anything involving your mouth, okay?”

“Well that’s real good, then.” Bucky’s smile had no business being so filthy. “Cos the thing about me is that I got all sorts of ideas on exactly how to use my tongue.”

***************

“OW!” Steve shouted when a book came flying through the living room and ricocheted off his head. “What the hell!”

“Snitches get stitches!” Natasha hissed, popping up from behind the couch and scaring the Captain half to death. “Why’d you tell Tony I call him pocket sized!”

“He kept saying he was six feet tall and accusing me of wearing glitter!” Steve rubbed at the back of his head and scowled at the tiny spy. “I had to say something!”

“You could have not told him my code name for him though!” Natasha vaulted neatly over the couch and burrowed into Steve’s side. “And by the way, you do definitely wear glitter. I’ve seen Sam dust it onto your cheeks before an interview. Don’t pretend he doesn’t, I’ll break out the video footage.”

“It’s only glitter every once in a while.” Steve’s scowl deepened, then deepened again when Clint came along and asked, “Are we talking about Cap wearing glitter and Sam like, tenderly brushing it on his face? Cos that’s about the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“IT’S NOT--” Steve stopped talking abruptly, his jaw just about dislocating when Bucky came walking backwards into the room, holding onto Tony with both hands and smiling down at the little brunette as Tony murmured--

“The thing about you Bucky is that your dick game is amazing.”

“Yeah well the thing about you doll, is that your ass is made for takin’ it.” Bucky murmured back, and Clint made a horrified sort of noise when Tony only made smoochy noises and returned, “Well the thing about you baby is that you have incredible thighs and I think you should put me right over them and spank me.”

“Thing ‘bout you kitten is--”

“GOD DAMN IT YOU TWO!” Another book, this one courtesy of Bruce who lobbed what was basically a dictionary at Bucky’s back. “I already kicked you out of the lab, don’t make me ban you from the Tower, JARVIS already listens to me, I swear I’ll do it!”

“Bruce is mad.” Tony giggled, and Bucky clutched him up tighter. “We should do this somewhere else where we can get naked again.”

“The thing about you, Tony.” Bucky drawled and palmed low over that ridiculous butt. “Is that you always got the best ideas. Lead the way.”

Tony flashed a triumphant smile at the room over his shoulder and Bruce grumbled, “The thing about me? Is that I will Hulk out and smash them if they don’t get less gross soon.”

“Yeah, I second that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Nah, I think it’s cute.” Clint disagreed. “They kiss and tell each other everything they like about each other? It’s adorable. Bucky gets to be soft and sweet, Tony gets to be spoiled and everything. Adorable.”

“Uh huh.” Nat sounded unimpressed. “What’s the real reason you’re pro- that mess?”

Clint pursed his lips stubbornly and only when Steve gave his most disapproving throat-clear did he admit, “I texted Sam about it and we’ve got a bet for how long it takes Tony to propose to Bucky. I said ten days tops, He thinks it will be a week.”

“Six.” Natasha disagreed, and pulled a fifty from her pocket. “Tony’s never gone more than a week without doing something absolutely bonkers. It will be six days.”

“Damn it.” Steve rummaged around for some cash too. “It will be four days, because Bucky’s been stupid about Tony for at least a year and he’s on this weird kick about seizing the day and never letting an opportunity slip by.”

“Tomorrow.” Bruce said from his chair. “Bucky’s going to slip up and say something about how he likes that Tony is spontaneous and Tony’s going to say ‘hey you know what would be really spontaneous’? and the jet will take off and they’ll go to Vegas.”

“...what?”

“... what?!”

“Fifty bucks says I’m right.” he shrugged. “Just wait and see.”

************

Later that night, Bucky rolled to his side and ran his left hand down Tony’s back, along the bump of his spine and up and over the curve of his rear. “You know one’a my favorite things about you, Tony?”

“Wazzat?” Tony was fucked out and drooling, barely coherent against the pillows. “Gonna say somethin’ bout my butt again?”

“Always.” Bucky grinned and so did Tony. “But I was gonna say the best thing about you is how spontaneous you are. You always got good ideas and then your eyes light up all pretty and you get this gorgeous smile and then you’re off runnin’ to do whatever th’hell you thought of. Maybe now I’ll get to be a part of it all, huh?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” Tony scooched over and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s lips, then his eyes lit up and his mouth curved up in a smile-- “Hey you know what would be really spontaneous....?”

*******************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

*******************

@ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb@1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @ships-galore

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes

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evajellion · 3 years

Text

2020 vidya ranking: #1 Bug Fables The Everlasting Sapling

You already knew that I was going to tell you that this was the best game I had played last year.

Imo, this should have been indie GOTY back in 2019, but whatever, I guess I should explain why I ranked this one at the top.

Back in 2004, Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door was released. I had sadly missed out on getting the original game on the Nintendo 64, but I was nonetheless very excited for the sequel. I got the game, still have my copy even years later… aaaand I got confused in Rogueport Sewers because I was a dumb eight year old, but I swear I picked up the game a second time. Got through all of the chapters, and had fallen in love with the game.

I loved the characters, the battle system, the story, the chapter progression, the cooking system, even the hidden lore and the amount of side quest scattered throughout the game. I even cried. It was the first time I had cried over a video game.

I wanted more, but then, Nintendo didn’t do it again. Sure, Super Paper Mario had a fantastic story, and a lot of people treasure that game the way I do TTYD-- I wouldn’t even mind if the series stayed in that direction. After that though?

Well, Sticker Star happened and stripped away all of the things I loved. Two similar games and one spin-off followed after that. Needless to say, me and several other fans of 64, TTYD, and Super weren’t happy about it. Seemed like I would never get another game like the one that was so dear to me ever again.

Cue me finding Arlo’s video about a cute little game called Bug Fables, just around the summer time. It had come out in 2019 and had been in development for some time by an indie studio. I was skeptic, but at this point I wanted anything-- besides, I actually love insects.

And after the first two chapters, which were a bit bland, I found it. I found the game I had been looking for. I was so afraid that this would be another Mighty No. 9 or Yooka-Laylee, but Bug Fables was anything but. Sure, it took inspiration from Paper Mario with its gameplay structure, but saying that this game is “just Paper Mario” doesn’t do it justice, because game can stand tall on its own.

I loved just about everything here in the same way I loved TTYD. Characters (except for two), the battle system, the story, the chapter progression, the cooking system, the hidden lore and the amount of side quest-- and there was even more than that.

“Gee what did Bug Fables have that Paper Mario didn’t?”

More than one super boss

A card game

Three party members in battle at a time

An entire side quest chapter that you can miss

An in-game randomizer

Higher difficulty settings

FREE DLC

Actual quality of life improvements

And finally, a villain who doesn’t just get a mere slap on the wrist as punishment for their actions. It’s one of the things Super did far better than TTYD because Beldam being let off scott free in the ending always pissed me off as a kid. The final boss is less ham-fisted in general too.

You have three characters at all times-- they’re your only party members and the only ones you need because they’re all perfectly balanced: Kabbu, Vi, and Leif. The third of which you won’t even meet until a bit into the first chapter. You don’t have to worry about wasting turns by switching your members out in this game.

The story starts off simple with the team of three collecting artifacts for Queen Elizant II, who seeks the Everlasting Sapling for an unspecified reason. About half way through the game and into the fourth chapter, the tone of the situation begins to shift, as the wicked wasps from the Wasp Kingdom also seek these artifacts for their lord.

This game doesn’t skimp out on being accurate to bug details either, there are little nods to how things work in real life, which is something I always appreciate. There isn’t really a dull moment in the story or a second where you feel stuck, because with the amount of Medals you get, there are plenty of strategies you can play around with.

Bug Fables is also… surprisingly dark, which perhaps isn’t unfitting of a game inspired by Paper Mario, given the direction TTYD and Super would get into. I can’t really spoil anything in regards to that, because much like with Three Houses, I would rather someone experience that themselves.

In terms of the flaws in this game, I can only think of two. One is regarding a terrible Flappy Bird game that’s required for 100%. It just shouldn’t be there, or at least be easier on the eyes.

The other is that this game suffers from having too many characters, when only four of them get actual character arcs: The main trio and the queen. You have some characters that get more fleshed out in side quests such as fellow team members or NPCs, but I feel like other “major players” suffer in the process.

Neolith is a big one. Cute nerdy moth who just exists as exposition for the artifacts and is a part of Kabbu’s backstory, but he never really does anything besides that, which is disappointing because he’s very cute. I would have loved more lore to him and Kabbu’s past, maybe a future DLC quest can solve that!

Your “rival team” also suffers a bit in this department. The team leader, Mothiva, is a snooty diva who never properly gets her comeuppance or realization that she needs to stop making everything about herself. I guess that’s the point, to give that vibe similar to old Pokémon rivals. But we’re supposed to believe she’s an official couple with her partner; Zasp, who just seems to simp for her in a one-sided way. Perhaps this could also be fixed with another DLC quest.

The worst of the bunch is Kina, Maki’s overly protective and possessive sister to the point of it being creepy. Unlike Mothiva, who is your rival, Kina is supposed to be a supporting cast member, yet she has even less likable traits. She stalks her brother and constantly wants to be with him, gets upset at the idea of him needing space, threatens a small caterpillar character-- you could remove her from the story and it changes nothing. There’s not even a backstory reason for her to be the way she is.

Mind you-- these are very minor nitpicks that don’t really bog down the game. Some may say the main villain of the game suffers from this as well since he shows up halfway into the game, I personally think he was handled perfectly, because you can piece together his motivations and backstory through lore.

Speaking of lore, I hope with so much in this game, that we end up getting a sequel. There are so many questions left unanswered, so much more I wanna know about!

Other than that thought? The trio of Kabbu, Vi, and Leif and their story is just about perfect. I can’t thank Arlo enough for introducing me to it, and I think this game will catch on more in the future since Chuggaconroy said he was playing it on Twitter, and Fatguy just completed his LP of the game.

I think… we’re entering an age where we should start expecting this level of quality from indie developers more often. This game didn’t feel like an indie game, it felt like a grade a RPG. Which is funny, because that’s what Paper Mario used to be.

God speed, Paper Bug devs. Keep up the good work in the future, thank you for bringing back a feeling I thought I’d never experience with a video game again. I know it sounds cheesy and stupid, but that’s.. just how much Paper Mario effected me back then. Even now, it inspires the books I wanna write, and it’s safe to say Bug Fables did the same.

By the way, can I talk about how delicious some of the food items look in this game? This is insect cuisine, and even I would eat these.

For recap on what the other games I had played this year were, just so you know how Bug Fables topped ‘em:

2. Fire Emblem: Three Houses

3. Animal Crossing: New Horizons

4. Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town

5. Super Mario All-Stars

6. Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and The Blade of Light

7. Final Fantasy VII

8. F-Zero

9. Star Fox

10. Puyo Puyo Champions

#bug fables

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deepgentlemenchild · 3 years

Text

Decided to post something I guess, a trashy bakudeku angst lol

Kirishima and Kacchan had started dating over the summer holidays and everyone had been overjoyed at the news. Everyone but Izuku. Under normal circumstances he would be thrilled that his classmates found love and comfort with one another. But these weren't normal circumstances and Izuku definitely wasn't thrilled. If anything Izuku was heartbroken, horrified and overwhelmingly resentful. Izuku wouldn't usually be so selfish, normally he would move on and let them be happy. But that's kinda hard when your so in love with someone that when you find out it's undoubtedly unrequited you contract the

hanahaki disease. If you don't know what hanahaki is it's a disease that suffocates your lungs by growing flowers in them and you can only get it if the person you love doesn't love you back. There is only three options to choose from once you contract the disease, option one is getting the flowers surgically removed, but it also removes all your memories of the person, so obviously not something Izuku can do considering he is who he is because of Katsuki.Option two is them loving you back, which is a no go with the whole Kirishima thing. The last option is probably the simplest, which is dying. Now Izuku doesn't necessarily want to die, but it's better than forgetting Kacchan, he loves Kacchan with his whole being and simply can't willingly choose to forget him, and there's no way of Kacchan loving him back so he really doesn't have any other options. All he can do is pretend to be happy for the new couple and hide his life threatening disease from everyone, can't be too hard.

So remember how Deku said it can't be too

hard to pretend to be happy for Kacchan and Kirishima whilst also pretending to not be dying. Yeah, well, he forgot to mention he and Kacchan had become best friends again and Kacchan spared no details when talking about Kirishima.One night while he had been coughing his lungs out Kaminari had walked passed his door and checked on him like the caring friend/classmate he is. "Hey Midobro, you alright in there?" He asked concerned after he knocked.A few seconds passed by before Izuku admitted defeat and let Kaminari in. "H-hey Kaminari-kun," he rasped with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Kaminari looked around the dorm room, seeing all the flower petals floating around. "Oh Mido," he said sadly as he pulled the boy into a bone crushing hug.

Weeks go by and Denks is still the only classmate who knows about Izukus condition, after Denks constant insistence Izuku finally told Aizawa sensei and his mum, but absolutely refused to tell any other peers. Denks and Izuku were doing everything together from walking to and from the classroom to hanging out whenever they had spare time. "Hey Deku," Kacchan started and Izuku nodded to show he listening "Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" Before Kacchan had finished speaking Izuku was already shaking his head. "Sorry Kacchan, but me and Denks are going watch the new All Might movie tomorrow." Izuku apologizes.

"You're spending all your free time with that dumbass, when can we hang out again?" Kacchan asked irritably.

Izuku shrugged, "Maybe later, anyway I gotta get going me and Denks are having a sleepover." Izuku beamed and Kacchan rolled his eyes before going to sit with Kirishima on the common room couch. "ZUZU!!" Denks exclaimed excitedly. "You're hereeee."

Izuku giggled lightly. "Of course I'm here Denks, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Except maybe for a certain "Kacchan" hmm?" Denks waggled his eyebrows.Izuku blushed and puffed his cheeks indignantly before bursting into a coughing fit. "Oh, shit. Sorry Zu." Denks looked upset with himself as he pet Izukus back lightly.

"No no. Don't apologize Denks, besides Kacchan asked to hangout tomorrow and I said no cuz we've already got plans," huffed

Izuku once he could open his mouth with flowers falling out.

"Gasp. The world truly is changing. But even

so it's only cuz it's to do with All Might." Denks retorted.

"Humph." Izuku pouted.

Denki laughed at the adorable display before turning on his switch so the could play Mario Cart. As the night dragged Izuku only had a total of two

coughing fits more and even won a few races. Denki had noticed a certain spikey haired blonde glaring at him when he was hanging out with Zuzu at school and in the dorms, but he couldn't figure it out. Maybe Bakubro was upset that Denki had stolen his best friend which wasn't unlikely, or something completely different. Denki decided not to confront Bakubro about or even ask Zuzu what he thought of it because he thought he was overthinking it and maybe Bakubro glaring at him was normal.

Izuku was sat on his bed without Denks for the first time in over two weeks and was really missing the comforting pats on the back as he coughed his lungs out staring at the stunning red petals that matched Kacchans eyes like nothing else. If it weren't for the fact that the flowers were killing him he would call them beautiful, but considering they were killing him he'd rather call them stunningly evil. Izukus coughs became horrid, each one making his whole body tremor and more and more tears fell out the corner of his eyes and dropped onto the petals littering his bed. "I'm so sorry Kacchan. I'm so sorry mum, Denki, All Might, Aizawa sensei. I'm so sorry everyone." Izuku whispered out into the night not knowing if he would last much longer.

The next day Izuku avoided Kacchan like the plague, even going as far as to swap seats with Kirishima so he could sit further away from him. Denks kept giving him pittying looks from where he sat, knowing his best bud didn't have much longer. Everyone in class knew something was wrong with Izuku but didn't mention it so as not to upset him. As the day went on Izuku found it harder and harder to keep his coughs in and even harder to stay away from Kacchan.

After almost coughing in class Izuku decided it was finally time he went to the nurses office. When Recovery Girl saw who it was she almost rolled her eyes. "What is it this time? Another broken bone?" She asked sarcastically. Izuku could only weakly shake his head before he started none stop coughing petals, but mainly whole flowers up. Recovery Girls eyes changed from annoyed to immense concern almost immediately. She quickly guided Izuku on a bed so he could sit down. After a couple of minutes Izuku finally stopped coughing and looked up at Recovery Girl sadly. "I-i don't think I have long left Recovery Girl." Izuku admitted as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh you silly boy." She shook her heard remorsefully. "You can still do the surgery you know? As long as you do it in the next twenty four hours, otherwise you're a true goner."

"I-i can't do that to Kacchan." Izuku whispered.

"Ok then love, is there anyone you want me to call so you can go home." Recovery Girl asked.

Izuku shook his head, "Can you bring Denks though," he requested instead. He didn't want his mother seeing him like this, it would make her sad and he didn't want to see her sad. Recovery Girl nodded and went to Aizawas classroom to grab Denki.

When she got to the classroom she knocked softly on the door. "Yes? What is it?" Aizawa asked through the door. Recovery Girl opened the door before speaking. "Izuku asked me get someone named Denks," she announced.

As soon as Denki heard Izukus name he shot his head up and after hearing the rest of it he jumped out of his seat and quickly made his way to the nurses office. Everyone else in the class looked perplexed besides Aizawa and Bakugo. Aizawa looked solemn where as Bakugo looked angry.

"Denks you came," Izuku spoke softly yet excitedly once he saw Denki burst through the door.

"Zu, baby. Of course I came." Denks said seriously as tears gathered in his eyes. Izuku smiled at him, though not nearly as bright as before but still as contagious as Denki smiled back sadly. They stared at each other for a long while, no words could be spoken to lessen either of their pain. The silence was eventually broken by Denki, who carefully embraced Izuku "you know Zuzu, I love you. More than anything. Your my bestest friend and the last few weeks have been the happiest of my life." Denki exclaimed as he cried the hardest he's ever cried.

"Oh, Denki. I love you too and I couldn't be happier to have you as my best friend. But you need to move on, make a new best friend. Kiris really nice." Izuku replied even softer than before. Denki just shook his head and cried harder. "I'm calling Bakugo." He announced. Izuku shook his head.

"Denki, please don't. I don't want him to feel guilty." Izuku pleaded. Denki ignored him in favour of pulling out his phone and tapping on Bakugos contact. It rang a total of three time before Bakugo picked up. "Pikachu, what's wrong with Deku?" He asked immediately. Denki shook his head, these idiots. "He's in the nurses office, come quick." Denki answered urgently before hanging up.

"He does care about you, you know that right? He may not love you like you love him but he truly cares about you." Denki finally addressed Izuku. Izuku looked away from him with more tears gathering in his eyes. Less thank two minutes had passed before Bakugo burst through the door with a panicked look on his face. Once his eyes met Deku they instantly filled with tears. "Izuku." He said softly before hugging him tightly. He looked into Izukus as if questioning him. Asking him who? Izuku looked him straight in his beautiful red eyes before kissing him straight on the lips. All of 5 seconds passed before Kacchan reciprocated and another 5 before Izuku went limp in his arms. At least I finally kissed him. Izuku thought before leaving his body to moving towards the light as tears blocked his vision.

#hanahaki #bakudeku fan fic #bnha angst #sad boi hours

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aros001 · 3 years

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Going in blind: Watching season 5 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Episode 1: Well...that dinner got dark. From what other fans have told me apparently Glimmer gets a lot of hate for her decisions during the series and I just find that odd. I was more annoyed with her in the early seasons where her actions were more harmless simply because she had no patience and wouldn't listen because of her immaturity. Season 4 and here though? Even her most reckless and risky actions have at least been fueled by the genuine desire to keep people safe during a very hard situation. Even here, yeah, she tells Prime something it's very bad for him to know but he was going to have Adora and everyone else literally murdered before her eyes if she didn't. I can't really be mad at Glimmer for making a bad choice when it flows logically and fueled by the desire to keep the people she cares about from being slaughtered.

I don't think we've ever seen Catra this completely at the mercy of another person before, save maybe for Shadow Weaver when she was a child. She has nothing to offer that Prime doesn't already possess. Nothing he wants that he can't get for himself. Her relationship with everyone these past few seasons have been either "I'm your commander and you have to do what I say" or "You are my commander and here's the reason you have to keep me around". This time she has nothing to protect herself behind and the only reason she's still around is because Prime might think of a use for her later.

I love having Scorpia on the heroes' side.

Episode 2: That ending though.

I think what helps elevate Entrapta for me and keeps her for being annoying or irritating is that the show really sells that she just genuinely has trouble understanding why she should/shouldn't be doing certain things. It's not stupidity or even pure self-absorption, she just struggles with people and social ques while machines and science is a lot more straightforward. Heck, she was probably able to bond so well with Hordak because work together in the lab was them meeting on a common middle ground she could understand and relax in. The way she's trying to overcome the issue to help save Glimmer reminds me a little of Mob from Mob Psycho 100, feeling a little frustrated in not understanding something that she knows she should be.

Episode 3: Anybody else get a Disney's Hercules vibes at the end there?

Catra: "Besides, O Oneness, you can't beat her! She has no weaknesses! She's gonna kick your...!"

Prime, smiling: "I think she does, little sister." [Strokes Catra's hair] "I truly think...she does."

This episode really sold how completely isolated Catra is. With the sole exception of Glimmer, she's in space, no idea where exactly she is, onboard a ship filled with nothing but Prime and hundreds of cultist clones. Throughout the entire series we've seen Catra push everyone away and now that she's in a situation where she is almost well and truly on her own with no power, freedom, or authority, she seeks out the one other person around to find any sense of comfort in. Despite everything, Catra doesn't like being alone.

Little child Catra lashing out because she didn't want Adora to have any friends other than her kind of reminds me of Glimmer and Bow during the Princess Prom episode. I imagine it's the same mentality. Growing up in isolation, even if in different forms, and finding only that one person they feel thay can really lean on, there is that fear that they'll find someone else they like more and start caring about them less, or even outright stop. The difference is Bow set Glimmer straight, assuring her he'll always be her friend no matter what but he's not going to be just solely dedicated to her. Her fear was understandable but she was not respecting him as a friend either. Adora never really had that with Catra, one because she was much younger and less mature than Bow, and Catra was probably all she had too, to an extent. As we saw season 1, she was always trying to look after her, even when Catra needed to take responsibility for herself. Bow is not Glimmer's keeper, while Adora too often was that for Catra, so Bow and Glimmer have a better foundation of mutual respect while Adora and Catra's dynamic has been really screwed up for a long time.

Kind of tying into that, despite all that's happened between them, the minute Adora hears Catra's in distress she starts panicking and tearing up. The last time they saw each other they were very much enemies and Adora was done reaching her hand out to her. I suppose you could make the argument she's really been hoping all this time that Catra would finally do the right thing for once, just probably didn't expect it to be like this.

Prime better not mind wipe Catra like he did Hordak.

Episode 4: See, calling the heroes the rebellion now makes sense since they are rebelling against the established power, which is Prime.

Love that trick with the reflections, where you can sort of see/sort of can't see She-Ra. A nice little tease for what I imagine will be a big reveal later.

I really like that explanation for what Bow's going through. Last season's finale was the last he'd seen Glimmer and was desperately trying to save her, and he's been consistently worried for her since then. Now that she's safe he's starting to let himself process his other emotions towards her, and I totally get it. It's hard to be mad at someone when you're also terrified over what might be happening to them, even if your anger is justified. While I get why Glimmer last season did what she thought she had to, it was still a big risk that Bow warned her about and she didn't listen, putting them all in danger. This situation and Glimmer's words is a very mature way of handle this topic. He's not wrong for being mad and it's not a contradiction to what we've been seeing from him this season. Humans and emotions are complicated.

Episode 5: SHE HAS PAAAAAAAAANTS!!! (I will miss the cape though)

That almost makes up for them cutting Catra hair. Seriously, that mane was beautiful!

But boy, speaking of Hercules, that return of She-Ra definitely felt like Hercules emerging from the pool of souls to save Meg.

With the one clone being disconnected from the hive mind and having a breakdown over it, that does make me wonder if Hordak has been connected to it. Wasn't he deemed a defect because Prime couldn't connect to his mind? I suppose it's possible that flaw was corrected. Clearly Prime can take over minds other than just his clones, like with Catra. But if he could do that I'm wondering why he just didn't when Hordak was first created and he instead cast him out to Etheria.

Was Catra purring at the end? I swear there was a sound that sounded like purring.

Episode 6: Assimilation is easily one of my biggest fears in fiction, be it zombies, Borgs and Cybermen, Get Out, the freaking Sapphire Dragon from Xiaolin Showdown that scared the hell out of me as a kid! Just the concept of having your free will and autonomy completely ripped away from you, potentially with you still being aware but unable to do anything about it, is horrifying! At least with Prime's chips the process is reversible.

Anyway, in lighter plots, I kind of love Wrong Hordak. He's really funny. I feel bad that he's being deliberately misled, but he really shouldn't be following Prime anyway, so...

I do like that Adora is being a little more tough on Catra. She needs kindness, yes, but she also needs honesty and discipline, the kind that has actual love and care behind it, unlike what she got from Shadow Weaver. Adora is genuinely trying to help so Catra needs to stop acting like a brat and LET HER HELP.

Episode 7: Catra was definitely purring.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume people probably ship Scorpia and Perfuma. Not that I have any problem with that. It's like the Midoriya/Todoroki ship; I don't ship it myself but I totally get why others do. It's a relationship based in mutual respect and one of the characters having a significantly positive effect on the life of the other. As long as the shipper themselves is not horrifically toxic, I don't care.

Also, I don't think I've ever been so intimidated by Mermista before than I was with that one shot of her in silhouette, just before the reveal she was chipped.

Episode 8: Okay, I definitely love Wrong Hordak. Just that realization of his. "Horde Prime...lied to us..." There's just something about it that's so full of character. Obviously he's a brainwashed clone but he was truly devoted to Prime and just to find out that he would keep something so big from them, from the hive mind that's supposed to be so open to him and each other, it destroys everything he ever believed in. It's hilarious to watch him prepare to lead his brothers in a revolt against Prime.

I assume magic is Prime's "weakness" in that he himself cannot control it. Obviously he can control magical beings like Spinnerella and have them use magic but magic itself is too free and too powerful for him to contain and fully fight back against. He's all about order and stillness and magic is basically chaos.

Episode 9: I like to believe the mushroom kingdom they saved is a Mario reference.

Something I like in hero stories is "the power of a name" or "the power of a symbol". Something as simple as Superman's S-shield can have so much weight and meaning behind it just because of the person it's tied to. She-Ra isn't just a powerful warrior to the people of Etheria, she's a hero of legend. We saw it touched on even back in season 1 how much Adora returning She-Ra to the world meant to everyone. She-Ra to them is a symbol of hope. If they have her on their side, then they believe they might be able to win and with that ordinary people can find the strength to fight too. It's something I think the Green Lantern put best with how the Blue Rings of hope supercharge the Green Rings of will but lose a lot of their functions when the greens are not around. Hope is useless if you don't have the will to also act, but in turn hope can give people the will to act. The more hope they have that they can win, the more they will fight to win.

That was the nerdiest comparison I've ever made.

Episode 10: I appreciate a good bad dad joke and that's why I can't approve of "punderstand". It's too much of stretch to flow well. "Ruined" was good though.

I'm less surprised that Scorpia's been chipped and more that she's even alive. She was at the bottom of the ocean when the roof broke and she's a scorpion woman. I don't think water is a very friendly element for her. She's even commented on how good the desert was to her.

I wonder her She-Ra mode is not working for her simply because Adora is exhausted; mentally and physically. I don't think she's ever used the form this continuously before, and she's been doing it without the First Ones' sword that she has experience with. Her new sword and its transformations may be made out of her own energy for all we know. And then there's just the emotional toil of having Catra back in her life while it feels like more and more of the world is being turned against her.

Episode 11: Oh, I'm definitely shipping Hordak and Entrapta.

I think Re:Zero has spoiled me on dark magic. While Micah with his dark magic is a threat, in this show and many others dark magic basically just equates to "spooky, evil, bad stuff" magic that isn't that different from most other kinds of magic other than being either harder to control or more geared towards causing harm. In Re:Zero, dark magic was DARK. It felt unnatural, like a perversion of how their world's magic is supposed to be and that it didn't belong in this reality. Micah's dark magic is basically "I'm attacking you with shadows, oOoOoOo so scary!"

Not really surprised Catra left. She just got Adora back and now she's potentially about to let herself die. Perfuma said it best, letting people in and letting herself be vulnerable is hard. Caring about Adora and watching her die would be a huge blow, so Catra would rather curl back up into her shell and block out Adora again than have to risk taking that hit.

Episode 12: I keep saying it but now having them right next to each other, yeah, Mara's She-Ra outfit is better than Adora's. I don't know, there's just something grander about it. Anyway, on topic, I'm a big fan of superheroes and legacy and all that and I really like Mara's words to Adora. All she did and sacrificed was so that others, especially the next She-Ra, wouldn't have to do the same. It doesn't matter how noble and heroic it is, tragedy is tragedy and anyone who knows that kind of pain doesn't want anyone else to have to go through it.

I'm not surprised by the love confession between Glimmer and Bow. I felt it could go either way with them either hooking up or just staying really good friends, but that in itself is a sign of how good and natural their friendship is. I can easily buy how it would evolve into something more between them. The situation they're in probably helps. When Glimmer was taken they both thought they might never see each other again and that fear and worry probably caused them to reevaluate how they feel about the other. They've been clinging to each other since getting back, as every day could be their last. Something like that is naturally going to push two people together.

Episode 13: So...are there any plans for a season 6? Or a comic continuation like Avatar and Korra got? Because this was a good finale...buuuuuuuuut I feel there are definitely some things that needed a bit more exploration.

This is typically why I like stories with epilogue endings, especially those set some number of years in the future. Little glimpses of what everyone's doing now, allowing the audience to fill in for themselves what happened in-between. There's nothing wrong with this episode but it does just kind of...stop. They beat Prime. Everybody's cheering and happy. Adora suggests they bring magic back to the universe. And...that's it. We don't see anything more. No aftermath, no post-war, nothing. We end on the moment of victory, and while it's not a bad moment it leaves the ending feeling a little incomplete.

It kind of feels like the writers either really had to rush to the ending to make the 13 episode deadline or simply didn't want to address whatever happens with Catra and Hordak now. With the bigger threat of Horde Prime it makes sense why everyone puts aside past issues and works together. But now that the crisis is over, naturally everyone would have to address everything the Horde had done to Etheria for years with Hordak and Catra leading it. Don't get me wrong, I believe that Catra loves Adora, I believe Adora loves her, and I believe Catra wants to be a better person. It's not like I'm saying she needs to be locked up or executed. But she did cause a lot of damage and put Adora especially through hell, and just because Shadow Weaver is the one who screwed her up so bad doesn't mean she doesn't have any responsibility for her own actions. So it just would have been nice to get even a little bit of lip service to show that Catra would be trying to right her wrongs from this point forward, instead of just "Prime's gone, everyone's happy, bye!" At least with Entrapta she seemed to genuinely not understand why what she was doing at the time was wrong and Scorpia, like Adora and Huntara, defected from the Horde to do the right thing despite it being even more part of her upbringing than anyone else. I can't even imagine what happens with Hordak now.

Don't get me wrong, this is far from the worst I've ever seen a redemption handled. I haven't read/watched any of Boruto outside of the movie and Gaiden tie-in but I've read all of Naruto and there is no reason that Orochimaru should just be walking around and casually talking with people after all he's done. Kaiba in the Yu-Gi-Oh manga built an entire theme park to try an murder Yugi and his friends and they bring it up like twice after that arc. Kylo Ren turning back to the light was one of the potential paths for his character, so that made sense in TROS, but they essentially did "He died heroically and therefore totally redeemed himself for every terrible thing he's ever done."; basically a cop-out. Catra's alive and can at least potentially still own up to her actions and work to redeem herself. And I love Steven Universe, but kind of like with Catra nearly killing everyone (including herself) via the unstable portal, fans have naturally pointed out that the Diamonds enslaved and committed genocide on multiple planets and really faced no consequences for that other than "Stop it". Catra's not at the gold standard of redemption stories, which for me is probably Zuko and Endeavor, but she's far from the bottom. I think the best way to describe it is that Catra had as good, if not better, reasons for being so bad and screwed up as Zuko did, just as good step-up for turning good as Zuko did, but she didn't have nearly as much payoff afterwards to make it feel like a full journey like Zuko did.

But enough about all that. Love the basically goddess She-Ra Adora became. Given the emphasis on healing powers with She-Ra we've had, I'm guessing that's essentially how she destroyed Prime. She purified Hordak and Prime was basically an infection within him. I like when heroes snatch victory from the jaws of defeat but I also when there's an implication towards the villain that "Wow. I never stood a chance." She-Ra's power just dwarfs his. Full potential realized by Adora and he was just gone.

Also I don't know how I forgot that Prime could jump into the bodies of his clones but his possession of Hordak got me. I genuinely couldn't think of how he'd survive after Hordak shoved him off the edge (set free by the power of love!).

And even if the ending feels a little incomplete, the episode itself still did well with my emotional investment. I was gripped by during Catra's confession and the tension within the heart.

Season 5 and overall series verdict: I'm very glad I saw this series. Even though its ending falls a little short for me, this was still really good. Seasons 3 was probably my favorite overall but this story had a very good flow to it. It steadily built up bigger each season, with Catra and Hordak being really compelling villains driving the whole thing. Not that Prime was bad. He was a genuine threat and his cult of clones is a good creepy concept. He's just not as good as the other two. I'm sure part of what elevates him up is because I'm thinking of the JL director's cut but Hordak really is just better Steppenwolf. Everything that worked about that character, Hordak is that to an 11.

Given how I've talked about her more than any of the others, Catra is probably my favorite character. Just the damage that girl has been through. I always understood why she was doing what she did, even though there was rarely a moment I'd agree with exactly what she was doing. Again, it's one of the reasons it feels like the series just kind of ended. There's a lot to be seen with Catra's character now, a lot that can be done, and it just feels like a shame to really not show any of it. This isn't a fault of SRPOP itself because so many series, especially animated and anime, are guilty of but it always bugs me when a series ends on two characters hooking. Relationships are interesting, I'd argue more so than the build-up to them, but no writer ever wants to actually explore them after the hook-up. I never cared about Korra and Mako being a couple but I still found their relationship as a couple more interesting and character building than any of the will they/won't they build-up to it. And I actually like the idea of Adora and Catra as a couple. It's a big reason why I'm so happy the Harley Quinn animated series got renewed for a third season, as it otherwise would have just ended on a hook-up between two characters who, like Adora and Catra, love each other but have had a complicated dynamic for a while. I believe Adora and Catra love each other, but they've got a lot of stuff to work out and I want to see that! Catra's got abandonment issues and that in turn caused her to be unhealthily possessive over Adora. Just seeing the two of them try to work through that alone would be fascinating.

Like I suspected early on, Scorpia's my favorite supporting character. Entrapta's a decent 2nd. Took a small dip when it seemed like she was joining the Horde over feeling abandoned by the princesses when they thought she was dead but that picked back up once it was made more clear "Oh, okay, you're not being petty or stupid. You genuinely don't understand." It made her a more interesting character, and I love her and Hordak's relationship.

Least favorite characters...probably Sea Hawk and those three former Horde friends of Adora and Catra. I never hated them but I never cared about what was happening when they were on screen. They fill out the world a bit, they drive the plot, they're not wastes of space, they even get some laughs. There are just so many other characters in the series way more interesting than them.

Biggest surprise for me was definitely Glimmer and Bow. I never thought I'd dislike them but the best friends characters in series like this can kind of go one way or another with how relevant or deep they are. Glimmer especially I was surprised how much I was invested. She really grew a lot as a person throughout the series and I thought the dilemma over the Heart of Etheria was a good one.

Honestly there's a lot more I could talk about but I have only so many words and my thoughts are a jumble right now so I'm going to leave it at that. I will say I really appreciate how supportive you all on this Reddit have been. It's something I hate about some other fandoms I'm in where they basically are so toxic that they make no one else actually want to watch/read the thing they're fans of because they can't help but associate it with them.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o2p6wq/going_in_blind_watching_season_5_for_the_first/

#she ra #she ra spop #random thoughts #reddit repost

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zoocross0vers · 4 years

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HERE WE…GOOO!!!!🦔💨

Sorry for not posting this sooner, I had some problems with scanning and lighting but I’m glad that is finally done. Here are some doodles of Sonic/Zootopia crossover from my 2 favourite movies. Those two movies are complimenting each other. Remember when I told you how Tom👦 and Maddie👩🏾 (these are names of those characters from Sonic movie) remind me a lot of Nick🦊 and Judy🐰? Well, after I watched the movie (10 times in cinema, 15 times at home after pandemy, don’t judge me!), it turns out that they have lot in common indeed that I thought. Those are my favourite moments from movie with Nick and Judy as Tom and Maddie and so does other characters from Zootopia (I really enjoy also that scene akward conversation about shooting Sonic with tranq-gun, that is hilarious for me). Wish I could include more but unfortunately after I drew I realized that my paper is not big enough, dang it! Thankfully I was able for example including at least 3 important moments like Sonic looking at happy couple behind window wishing been part of company, because of fear of him all alone forever, which it saddening him (😢 „sniff“ can someone please give that kid a hug?!😭), Ozzy licking Sonic’s face (awwwwww :3) and of course “THE FINAL BATTLE WITH ROBOTNIK” (at least the confrontation). The only thing I didn’t include was Longclaw and echidna tribe, since they had small screen and I small space (dang it!). Which is bummer because I really like Longclaw, she is really interesting character and wish we could see more. There were only two scenes of her, the one from begging of the movie and the deleted where she end up in earth with Sonic for some time but died from s-sicknes-ss “sniff”😢 (I’m sorry for that but this moment always makes cry every-time I watching it😭, it’s just really personal for me for certain reasons.). I guess you questioning the Ozzy licking Sonic’s face scene considering there are no domestic animal, including dogs and Zootopia is world of anthromorphic mammals, so I thought I would use Yoshi as Ozzy as a cameo from Mario (you know because of friendly rivalry between Sonic and Mario) and also as a gift for Yoshifan, especially after seen many pictures of Nick and Yoshi who’s calling him “Mama Nick” and I found it pretty funny. After I started drawing I realized there are some obstacles that would be problem like (aside from Ozzy) raccoons, bear-head from Piston Pit, chilli-dogs (considering what meat they put on these things if, IF it is a meat), the Sonic’s shoes (the old and new ones) and of course Robotnik himself considering I don’t want to change him into some mammal. Like I said before Robotnik works better as human and he doesn’t need to change to an animal considering he put animals from Sonic’s world, anthromorphic and normal, always in danger or abuse (like making them into badniks, or robotized them). So, how are gonna fix it you ask? Well I have some idea. Like I said before for Ozzy I choose Yoshi for that role (and honestly I don’t have any other options, heheh. BUT you must admit that it is adorable 🥰), raccoons were a challenge so I came multiple ideas for example:

Instead of raccoons we use gerbil jerks from Zistopia concept art

Raccoons will be anthromorphic teens who like mess with Nick while eating from trashcans (like Mr. Big said, evolved but deep down still animals)

Since mammals are sentient how about use non-mammal “trash pandas”(lol, I like that nickname) like birds as ravens, crows or pigeons (pigeons are also known as “flying rats” – thank you Spies in Disguise)

Those are mine options, if you have other in mind I’m listening.

Then there’s taxidermy bear-head. Considering that pouching would classified as not just illegal but also as psycho (still not get over that taxidermy Moose-head from Sly 2. Yeah I know that was part of mission to blend in to not rise a suspicion but seriously, WHY those Moose have that head, did they just-…you know what let’s not think about it😖) I came up with idea instead of taxidermy bear-head how about some mask of unusual mascot like the manticore from Onward, eh eehh? (Or it can some dino but I rather prefer manticore). As for those motorbike gang at first I want to suggest those Ranger Scouts. That would be delightful punishing them that way (evil chuckle😈). But then I remembered the trash gang from Zootopia comic “A hard day’s work” and to be honest those characters are ideal for those roles: wildebeest could the black cowboy, elephant as the belly guy (oh come on, like you didn’t think same nickname after seen Sonic sprung out of his belly) and hyena with green Mohawk as of course the Bear-head jerk. But if you want combine them be my guest.😁

As for chilli-dogs since are Sonic’s favourite we cannot left them behind. Thankfully I was watching on YouTube where there mentioned Tails been vegetarian and one comment that said “Chilli-dog: Am I joke to you?” that made conversation about mobians been vegetarians. So in that case since Zootopia is filled birds (and sometimes bugs), and synthetic meat, proteins, probably tofu, we can assume that there are Chilli-dogs made especially in Zootopia universe (and honestly we do not really know, what exactly hot-dogs are truly made of).🌭

👟The shoes were honestly a very hard obstacle for me considering mammals don’t wear shoes since they are still animals, like our directors said, BUT that doesn’t mean they don’t exist in Zootopia.

Evidence 1: Gazelle – she’s wearing high heels from Preyda

Evidence 2: Poster of (parody) movie Cinderellephant, with elephant-size glass slipper

Evidence 3: Judy Hopps – she wears half-sockets in her police uniform (that still does count as a foot-wear)

So I came with headcanon that only celebrities and patients with sensitive feet wear shoes as a luxury or medical protection (I mean we have a lot of animals that can’t live on different area with their conditions, come on have someone of you seen a polar bear live in Sahara Square?) and in this case it’s the latter (plus there is in this story a human character that needs his own footwear) since Sonic is wearing his running shoes considering that his speed is high enough to burn his feet (ouch🤕).

And finally with Robotnik, we use that orphan idea and certain headcanon from Sonic X about planets that once were one until they divided and made their own time and space alterations, prof. Gerald Robotnik (Eggman’s grand-father) could study Mobius for finding cure for Maria, creating Shadow, G.U.N. etc. It could be three worlds (Sonic’s world/Mobius, Robotnik’s world/our world, and Zootopian’s world) or just two (Mobius and Zootopia), what works better.

As you can see there are some characters I included in in certain scene (aside from Yoshi), I present to you Judy’s niece named Cotton and one of Judy’s (many) sisters Violet Hopps. No, those are not an OC from any fandom, those are official characters from Zootopia universe. You already actually know Cotton but for those who don’t know who is Violet, she was introduced in Zootopia Graphic Novel in comic named “Brothers & Sisters” and considering how she is very overprotective of Judy (like any other Hopps) I thought she would fit perfectly for Rachel role (I don’t think she’s Cotton’s mother so don’t ask), and also she’s the only official Hopps sibling with name we know. I wanted also include another characters into this doodles but I like I said before I didn’t have enough space on one paper. So here are my character ideas: Clawhauser as Wade, Bogo as Major Bennington, Mayor Lionheart as Commander Walters (no surprise). For others like Crazy Carl and Agent Stone I had some problems.

For Crazy Carl I first thought about who would fit perfectly and I came up with a lot of ideas: first I thought about Duke Weaselton, since he has face for that crazyness but then I declined since he doesn’t fit on the character, then I thought about Pop-Pop Hopps but that was questionable considering in movie he had a huge aversion of foxes (red as devil) and comic he’s not biased but then I thought who could describe Crazy Carl better than well-known concept crazy theorist Honey Badger am I right?

As for agent Stone I had no idea what to do with him. I could let him stay as but that would make questions of humans and I didn’t want to put Bellwether into this position. If she was unhappy of been unappreciated and humiliated by predators then I don’t think she would really want to work with someone who is full of himself more than her and only see humanity as an excuse of stupidity and “herd of useless sheep (get it?)” and only relay on machines. And characters from Zootopia Crimes was not an option and Jack Savage was out of question no in my point. Not saying that Jack Savage could be a great option but I don’t think fans would appreciate another bad guy role for Jack and I already have something different for him in my mind. Then it came another that would fit for Stone and that is a certain platypus Dr. Starline from Sonic The Hedgehog IDW comics. He admires Eggman and his evil genius (questionable) and in comics he’s working as partner/assistant for him. But since he is mobian as Sonic we could use idea that government knows about it (partially) but does not tell and he thinks that he is an unusual zootopian platypus (after all he does wear clothes and looks “more” normal unlike Sonic) and we could do the same with Robotnik considering his past about grand-father and project Shadow if Jeff Fowler would follow some headcanons (I wouldn’t surprised if some government keeping some secrets even from employers). But then again we could use also Tony, a bunny from Zootopia Crime Files since he is shady and bland at once and already wear a suit, like agent Stone (great, now I don’t know which one to choose again).

You know what, I’ll give you an option who would fit for role of Agent Stone:

1. Dr. Starline, a platypus from Sonic The Hedgehog IDW comics

2. Tony, a bunny from Zootopia Crime Files

3. Jack Savage, a jackrabbit from Zootopia concept art/Savage Seas (you don’t have to take that third one too seriously, but just in case)

DONE (pass out from exhaustion). Haahhh so much work, editing fixing hands, oohh boyyy. You have no idea how hard this was for me to finally made it. I wish I could do more. But for now I’m so glad that I was able to draw at least some of my favourite moments because I feel they’re important for storytelling: first the introduction of main characters, their struggles, interactions and how they greatly compliment to each other (both Sonic and Zootopia). I mean you can’t just see Judy call Nick and Sonic cute and not imagine that, or there was also moment where Sonic dry like dog so his fur and quills(?) go puffy and Nick would look mesmerized by fluffiness. Come to think of it Sonic has lot in common with Nick and Judy that he would actually fit for the role as their son. You’re not believe? Well here are some examples.

Similarities between Sonic and-

-Judy🐰:

1. heroes in blue (get it?)🌀

2. pretty fast (Sonic more faster than Judy but still…)

3. impatient😤

4. first act then think (always put themselves into danger)

5. thing for get into trouble

6. sense for justice

7. never give up

8. preys but not rodents (that’s right hedgehogs are not rodents)

9. became a friend with fox (their natural predator, that was bullied in past, huh strange, just as strange as hedgehog be taken care of by owl that is also his natural predator)

-Nick🦊:

1. sly smile😏

2. mischievous trickster

3. green eyes

4. omnivores (hedgehogs eat melons, watermelons(what’s the difference?), berries (blueberries headcanon!) and insects, snails, frogs snakes🤢- uhhh I think chilli-dogs works better thank you)

5. cringy sense of humor😒

6. thing for nicknames (by Nick: Carrots, Buffalo Butt, Yakity yak, Flash Hundred Yard Dash, by Sonic: Donut Lord, Pretzel Lady, Eggman, Knucklehead, Super Observant Carl)

7. loyalty (they never left their friends behind)

8. never let them see they get to you (despite suffering a lot of emotional damage, thanks a lot SEGA)

9. smooth talker with heart of gold

-both🐰 🦊:

1. traumatic past

2. sacrifices for others

3. fight for what is right

See they had a lot in common. Anyway I am still glad I was finally able to finish this. It wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

But I guess, that I made it hard for you with those moments so how about this we use the final moments like in your fanfic Carcass Bride: FINAL BOSS BATTLE SONIC VS. ROBOTNIK because honestly this moment is epic (wish I could make it bigger), it would start Sonic running from Robotnik, like we’ve seen in beginning of the movie, get shot retelling in short whole story, like in movie only less detailed and faster the confrontation between Nick and Robotnik (Sonic would unconscious but still hear them and had a self-doubt like Naruto in first chapter/episode if you what mean until he hear the important words that’ll give him boost), the final battle and then epilogue (Sonic with his new family) with open ending (you know the Eggman in Mushroom planet and then Tails’s introuction). As for what kind of universe all of them would be I have another suggestions:

1. Sonic movie universe in Zootopia (but still happening in Green Hills only Zootopia would be San Francisco and Transamerica could be Palm Hotel like in Zistopia storyboard) and Night Howler Case never happened.

2. Night Howler case happened Nick and Judy are still cops, but later decided to live in Green Hills

3. Night Howler case happened but was solved instead of Judy and Nick by Jack and Skye who later became agents and don’t like Robotnik for his ego:

a) Nick come from Green Hills (Wachowskis live as police in GH for 50 years), but suffered from Ranger Scouts move to Zootopia became “shifty fox” until he’s saved by childhood friend Judy from Bunnyburrow (from wrong decision and targeting to become savage) and the return to Green Hills become sheriff along with his new wife.

b) Both Nick and Judy just heard about it in Green Hills.

I guess the first and third are more interesting.

Okaayy now I realized that this became more ambitious that I planned but I guess that happens when you try balancing two franchises so it can make sense (enough for headcanons). But I’m not saying that I’m proud of myself. So I’ll leave you the rest (the options and writing) so I can’t wait for one-shot fanfic good luck. And also (even though it’s late but still better than never) Happy birthday Sonic, this is for you! GOTTA GO FAST!🐰🦊🦔💨

#GottaGoFast🦔💨

#LongLiveWildeHopps🦊🐰

#StaySafe😷

#AlwaysRemember (this is for late actreesses that they will alway be remembered and in our hearts❤️)

....

Oh wow! This is really great! You put a lot of scenes from the film, this is awesome!I also see that you gave Yoshi a cameo, lol! @yoshifan30 will definitely love that, lol! I like the collage look you gave the whole thing. Also, I just realized, is that supposed to be Cotton? Judy’s niece? Thank you so much for this! I will reblog this soon so I can read it more thoroughly and discuss anything I may have missed :) And once again, this...is...INCREDIBLE!!! <3 Fantastic Job Guest! You’re really talented! :D

#zootopia #sonic #sonic film #crossover #wildehopps #awesome mini comics #comic collage #submission

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askaceattorney · 4 years

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Dear Inferno,

Essay? You just said the magic word.

Trucy’s a bit of a lengthy character to unpack, but I’ll see what I can pull out of my hat.

Trucy Wright, CEO, magic extraordinaire, and maiden of mystery, formerly Trucy Gramarye, the 8-year-old prodigy magician. She’s the kind of character who never forgets to smile (that’s part of her creed, in fact), and always has a magic trick up her sleeve. Or her magic panties, in this case.

This optimism and charm of hers do a lot to make her likable, both as the second non-Maya assistant in the series and as a side character who provides some comedy relief for the agency when morale is low.

But interestingly enough, this isn’t the sort of character she’s introduced as.

Trucy’s first “magic act” is to appear out of nowhere as Apollo is trying to contemplate how his boss suddenly became a murder suspect. Rather than offering a smile and an encouraging message, she decides to play the role of a mysterious fortuneteller.

If I didn’t know who was saying this, I might think it was a Toad from Super Mario Bros. 3.

So far, all she is to Apollo (and us) is a mysterious messenger trying to help her father...until he realizes just who her father is.

This presents a new mystery for Apollo (and for us): How did a young magician wind up in the custody of an ex-lawyer? And on top of that, why was a locket with her picture in the possession of a shady drifter...and why did Phoenix feel the need to take it from his dead body?

Unfortunately, Phoenix is just as cryptic as Trucy in her debut game, but it’s far from the end of Apollo’s interaction with them.

After two months of coping with the loss of his first position as an attorney and considering Phoenix’s offer to work at the legendary Wright & Co. Law Offices, Apollo finally shows up there to discover that it not only went through a name chance, but now has it’s own CEO -- the same mysterious girl he ran into before!

Before he knows it, he’s being interviewed for the Wright Talent Agency by a magician whose energetic and professional attitude completely contradicts her father’s calm, laid-back personality. It isn’t until his misunderstanding is cleared up that she finally introduces herself:

It’s here that we also hear Trucy’s theme, “Child of Magic,” for the first time, which does a great job of conveying the sort of delightful, peppy aura Trucy creates just by being herself. Speaking of which, Apollo gets to “enjoy” a bunch more of her optimism as she explains her and Phoenix’s current situation. According to her, the former law office was converted into an agency for acquiring talented individuals.

She also describes what might be her most important role in Phoenix’s life, whether she knows it or not.

And so she did. She may not have actually cooked for him (or maybe she did, we don’t know), but she did provide Phoenix, a well-respected lawyer who’d just been cheated out of his badge, with exactly what he needed at the time: a reason to keep going. It’s hard to imagine what his life would’ve been like without her making her entrance into it, so to speak, but because of her, he was compelled to pull himself together, find a job, and begin to move on from one of the darkest moments of his life. In short, Trucy became a light in his darkness. Pretty impressive for an 8-year-old, huh?

We’ll get to that in due time, though. The next thing we learn about Trucy comes from her Daddy, and once again, it’s pretty vague.

What could this “talent” of hers be? Besides being a talented magician and motivator, that is? We don’t find that out until after she’s spent some time as Apollo’s investigating assistant.

Thus she officially becomes Apollo’s “Maya,” a role she fills remarkably well, being just as cute, perky, annoying, and naive as Maya ever was.

Every good lawyer needs one of those, after all.

Then, when Apollo finally gets his first *cough* normal case, we get to see what Trucy’s capable of in the courtroom. ...Well, after a quick diversion.

Has Professor Layton gone rogue and joined the mafia? Nope, it’s just one of Trucy’s best tricks -- the Amazing Mr. Hat!

Not even going to ask how that works.

After this hilarious sideshow, Trucy reveals what her special “talent” is, and how it can help Apollo.

For the first time in the series, we have a courtroom mechanic that doesn’t involve pressing someone, presenting evidence, or asking the right questions -- instead we get to use a brand-new technique to slow time down and spot witnesses’ nervous habits when they tell lies, and our young magician friend is just the one to introduce it to us (much like Pearl introduced the Psyche-Lock mechanic to Phoenix).

She apparently knows about Apollo’s “perceive” ability from Phoenix, but how does she happen to have the same gift herself? That remains a mystery until we learn about her past, which doesn’t happen until near the end of the game.

Thankfully, we aren’t playing the game here, so we can just skip ahead to that part.

During the third case, Trucy’s real father, Zak Gramarye, is given a brief mention, but all we learn about him is that he’s a magician who once belonged to Troupe Gramarye. Who is he today, though?

It turns out his identity is none other than Shadi Smith, the card-playing drifter who was murdered by Kristoph (and the one partly responsible for Phoenix’s disbarment). We could get into his *ah-HEM* wonderful fathering technique, but the important thing here is what we learn from him about Trucy and Apollo’s gift.

Whatever this strange ability is, it’s apparently hereditary, passed down from Trucy’s mother. Also, as Phoenix deduces, Apollo shares this ability because, shocker of shockers, the two of them share the same mother, Thalassa Gramarye.

Who’d have thunk it? Not even Phoenix, even though he’s a good thunker.

Speaking of Phoenix, let’s go back to his first meeting with young Trucy.

When she first entered his life, she was a famous magician’s daughter whose first “performance” was to help him escape a Guilty verdict. She of course didn’t know at the time how long it would be before she saw him again, or the lawyer she was talking to would soon be replacing him. It’s here, by the way, that we learn we she gets her charming grin from.

And then...tragedy.

With her father missing and no living relatives to take care of her, Trucy’s future looks even bleaker than Phoenix’s (which is saying a lot). Thankfully, he offers to let her stay with him until her father comes back, and does his best to help her feel comfortable. Luckily for both of them, her father already gave her some advice.

Then comes the big switcheroo. As mentioned before, Trucy provided Phoenix with a reason to keep going after losing his job, but when we see how it actually took place, it becomes clear that she took it a step further than that -- she practically led him forward by the hand.

This makes me wonder something: could her vigorous encouragement have reminded Phoenix of another young woman who came into his life just after a tragedy occurred?

Maybe it’s just speculation, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Maya had crossed his mind. He even told Trucy she could call him “Nick” if she wanted to. If nothing else, that provided some serious heartfelt nostalgia.

One other thing I loved about AJ: AA is how it showed Trucy’s more fragile side near the end. Things worked out pretty well for her after the ordeal with her father, but that doesn’t mean she felt no emotion about it.

We’ll never know how much of her sadness is due to her father’s death and how much is due to his sudden disappearance, but at least we’re given a chance to see her being less magical and more human.

And finally, let us fast-forward past Trucy’s adoption, her accidental reunion with her half-brother, and her antics in the courtroom to the final (and in my opinion, the best) big moment for her: The Magical Turnabout. Here we get to see, through the magic of animation and voice-overs, how expertly Trucy performs and how confidently she speaks for the first time.

But just when things seem to be going better than ever for her and the new Troupe Gramarye...

What a way to go, huh?

Thankfully, that situation was an imaginary one (and she came out on top, as always), but then a real disaster occurs.

She’s lucky enough to have Apollo and Athena there to help her, but she’s left to wonder if Mr. Reus’s death was due to a fatal accident on her part. If so, it would be a devastating blow to her magic career, besides destroying Troupe Gramarye’s reputation after it had just made a recovery. Luckily, there’s one person who doesn’t believe she could make such a mistake, and who can see through her fake smile.

Then we get one more glimpse of Trucy’s human side, but for a completely different reason: Apollo’s faith in her performing ability, even as she struggles to believe in herself.

Unlike her previous crying scene, this one is more bittersweet than sad. Having faith in your friends might be a cliche, but it’s moments like this when you see just how much it matters.

Things go from bad to worse when she suddenly finds herself in the Accused of Murder Club while her Daddy’s out of the country, but like always, the truth comes out in the end. But here’s what I love most about this case: Trucy herself gets to play a role in proving her innocence, simply by doing what she does best: performing magic!

Besides giving her defense team new evidence to work with, her trick completely turns the room around. Even Apollo couldn’t detect the sword switch with his kinetic vision. Not bad for an impromptu performance, huh?

And if that wasn’t beautiful enough, the judge himself asks Trucy a favor before announcing a verdict:

Looks like she’s officially earned the title, hasn’t she?

So with all this in mind, what’s the best way to describe Trucy? She’s a great magician, a strong motivator, a bringer of joy and encouragement to those around her, a comedy relief when one is needed, and... Oh yeah, I forgot -- it turns out she’s also a bit of a sadist.

Sort of a weird character quirk for Capcom to give her, in my opinion, but not too hard to believe, I guess.

But most importantly, she’s a true entertainer, much like her old Daddy, and someone who knows how to smile even in the darkest of times and who has an eye (two, in fact) for the truth, much like her new Daddy. You could say she represents the best of both worlds.

You’re still a jerk, though, Zak.

-The Co-Mod

#ajanisapprentice #Trucy Wright #Mod Post #Co Mod #Character Essay #Mod Commentary #Hope you didn't think I'd stopped doing these

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youwontlikethisblog · 3 years

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Betty! My Betty.

Two post in a day, or window of twenty four hours!

Finally we make it to the day of the new collection launch.

Now in the previous post I wrote I made note that we had established that Armando trusted, unwavering, Betty. He knew of her fidelity and trusted her for it.

He questioned her but, by the time she leaves he quits his show of being mad at her and asked Mario what he thought of what she had said.

Now I want to add some points here that discribe and prove my theory that Armando was already having feelings outside of work related feelings towards Betty.

1) When Mario tells Armando that Marcela has no idea who she's talking to we know he means that Betty is the owner of Eco Moda, therefore she shouldn't be yelling at her but Armando thinks otherwise as he tells him "I know! She's my guardian angel!" which once more proves that Armando wasn't mistrusting of Betty and his concern was with how Betty treats him and how she is with him, unconditional.

2) When Mario starts with his paranoia again Armando defends her, defends his trust, and lets us all know that he would never doubt Betty nor her unconditionality and fidelity.

3) That day Armando behaved differently towards Betty.

We've all at some point in middle or high school gone to google and searched "how to tell that he likes me." and the very obvious answers in every post is that he finds excuses to be near you, finds excuses to touch you, blah blah blah, and very cliché this begins to happen. I already had my theory that as the show progressed to this point of the story that Armando found excuses to touch Betty such as when he starts to rub her shoulders as he is telling her that he's very aware of her loyalty and all she does for him, hugging her, to then asking her to stay in meetings, being confused when she doesn't sit next to him whereas before Betty could sit anywhere in the meeting room that wasn't near him (don't quote me on this I didn't pay much attention to the first few episodes because I was zoned out most of the time)and he didn't care. During the business with Macro Textil he was leaning towards her as they discussed with Ms. Colombia and the guy incharge of sells. Which I already talked about this in another post as well where he finally stops having all eyes on Ms. Colombia and is absorbed by Betty.

At the meeting the day before the launch Armando pulls a chair for Betty and tells her to sit by him and when she goes to sit he pulls his chair closer to her and leans towards her, when he usually is always leaning to his right, he now leans towards his left, where Betty is. That's not the only noticeable change. When Marcela starts yelling and insulting Betty, Armando visibly looks ticked off until he finally raises his voice at her and then adjusted his tone and talked to her calmly. Then later that night when Marcela and him are together discussing Claudia, Armando tells her that he can't do anything because Hugo will throw a fit, then Marcela decides to let her vandetta with Claudia go and asks for another head, to which Armando says anyone's head.

Remember how I said that Armando is really dumb with feelings and that when he has them he blurts them out unthinkably and then proceeds to correct himself?

Here Marcela gives him the ultimatum; Claudia's head or Betty's head.

Armando pulls away from her and says no, to which Marcela asks "You can't do it or you don't want to?" and he says "I don't want to- I can't." and he looks bothered by the idea of it. Like a kid told to share his toys with someone. We then see him feeling guilty over Betty being the owner of Eco Moda because Marcela is saying that she's gotta run everything by Betty.

The last point was a long one :)

Armando still yells at Betty and he still is a crappy boss but the last two days he has blended and blurred the lines so much while Betty has remained a good employee and kept boundaries with him.

Now this is the scene we've all been waiting for.

Armando finds out that Nicolas is Betty's "platonic love".

The day starts off with Marcela going to yell at Betty, as one does, and Armando seems bothered by it, while before it did bother him it wasn't much where he interacted or reacted to it. As he said he knew Betty could handle of them[Paty and Marcela].

Now one could simply say "But this is all because of Eco Moda and Betty is the owner now and he doesn't want her to turn against them."

Had that been the intention of the writer we wouldn't had gotten any of the previous details mentioned in the previous post. We wouldn't be seeing the subtle change, the blending of their personal lives, the obvious act of defending Betty against Mario's paranoia and the obvious stupidity of Armando towards his feelings.

Remember! Armando wasn't paranoid and he sure as hell wasn't questioning Betty's loyalty to him.

So if he isn't having those feelings? Why does he all of a sudden run to her aid against Marcela? Why does he not only defend his decision to hiring Betty as he did in the past but Betty's role and job in Eco Moda?

Here's the thing we all need to understand Armando is somewhat smart in his line of work. He knows how to manipulate, convince, and make deals. He is a very mechanical guy. Women enter him through his eyes. We've seen him be a womanizer and seggs is the way to his heart. Which is exactly why he was so stupid and clueless about his feelings towards Betty because unlike all the other woman, Betty didn't enter him through the eyes or sex. She did through action and personality and it all comes crashing down in this very scene. However, Armando is very stupid and I mean colossally stupid when it comes to feelings. He is a mechanical man, even in his relationship with Marcela, his parents, his best friend, his lovers, and he isn't fazed by people's emotions. He is uncomfortable with them and as a person who happens to be the same, when it comes to recognizing feelings and defining them as what they are it's really hard to do that when you spend your time avoiding and running away from any feeling and it can take months for someone to identify those feelings. Which is why the subtle changes and his reaction to this news leaves him uncomfortable, confused, and most of all scared and he tries to justify and identify these feelings as other things. Once again I talk from personal experience.

The writing from the previous episodes is meant to bring all of this together. Scenes that we might asume had nothing to do with the romance between B and A all of a sudden hold a lot of weight here. For example the scene when Sofia cries over her husband's lover working there, it shows Armando visibly uncomfortable as he turns to Betty's office and looks like he wants to stand up and leave the room when he sees her crying. However the last time Betty cried in front of him without her even asking or making any insinuation of it, Armando goes to hug her so he can comfort her. Mariana once said that he could watch someone cry and be unfazed by it but we had two more incidents previous to that that show us little by little how he begins to change for Betty. If they weren't important than we wouldn't had gotten them.

Bertha burst into his office with a smile on her face. Armando is as normal and typical as always, Betty enters the room and hands him the paperwork for him to sign.

That's when Bertha mentions that "Your love, your boyfriend, Nicolas Mora just called you!" and we get a close up of Armando's face(they wouldn't have shown us this if it weren't important). His eyes are focused on Betty, brows narrow, lips on a line and nostrils flared, meaning my boy is mad. When Betty asks if he signed the papers, without breaking eye contact with her, with a very serious and dead tone he tells her he did and hands them to her.

Skip a scene ahead we then see Armando exiting Betty's office, head down, shaking his head, looking confused and angry. When Mario walks in he asks if something happened and Armando nods, goes back into her office, steps back out and leans against the door frame, wrapping his arms around himself which is something people do to self sooth and he proceeds to tell Mario that something very grave has happened. Mario's facial expression shows worry.

Now let's go back to the episode when Betty gave Armando the papers that showed that Eco Moda was now under seizure for the debt they had with Terra Moda, how his voice was during that, which was somber. We know it hurt him to see that and that it was a hard thing to accept as he studied that most of the scene. Here in this scene he has the exact same tone of voice, somber, which means he is truly bothered and sad over Betty having a boyfriend.

Mario then proceeds to laugh and joke about it. Armando angrily tells him that the monstrete that he is making fun of is the owner of Eco Moda now and then his voice changes to say "She has a boyfriend." to which Mario again proceeds to make fun of. We see Armando's body language, he turns his back for a brief second, he doesn't look at Mario or make eye contact while he is making those jokes and for a split second we see a confused look on his face.

What does this mean? Armando sudden change of heart and his frustration towards the news aren't solely based on Eco Moda for what he continues to make apparent and continues to repeat is that Betty has a boyfriend because that's what he is hung up about.

I'm sorry I keep saying let's go back to a post or episode but this all comes imploding here, now, to prove the theory. Remember how I mentioned that Armando seemed unbothered by Nicolas and even defended him against Mario and his paranoia?

When Mario asks who the unfortunate person was Armando does as he does best, react emotionally.

All of a sudden Armando is furious as he refers to Nicolas. All of a sudden the person who he himself said was trustworthy, who he assured Mario was someone Betty collaborates with becomes an idiot and an object of disdain to Armando.

While Mario seems more concerned over the company and who the owner is; Armando seems more concerned over the fact that Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend.

He then proceeds to tell Mario how he found out and he tells it like he were telling him something traumatic, he is stuttering every few words, pacing, talking fast, unable to sit for more than a second and mocking, something we later see as a jealousy act of his, and gets angry( he makes it more dramatic by saying that Bertha said Nicolas was Betty's eternal love, her lover) when he gets to the point of the story that they talked about Betty's boyfriend in front of him which lets us know he felt it was disrespectful for Betty to do that.

What kind of boss thinks it's disrespectful for their employee to have a boyfriend and talk about it in front of them?

One that likes you and thinks there's something special going on between you two.

My theory is that Armando wasn't in love with Betty at this point but he was mixing up his feelings because he liked her and felt possessive over her. He felt that Betty's unconditionality, fidelity, loyalty, and faithfulness was all towards him and that made him feel special(when Betty was offered that commission by RagTela when she confessed it to Armando he went to her and told her he was glad he was a part of such an important test in her life which feeds the idea that he felt special to her) because of course, the "ugly" girl would never have a boyfriend to give all that to and he felt special to be the one to receive that from her without Betty asking for anything in return. Those exact qualities were the things that lead Armando to even have feelings for her(that he's not aware of) and all of a sudden there's someone who could be receiving those exact same qualities of Betty's and more which makes him react the way he does.

In his own words what offended him most (which means he was offended by Betty and Bertha talking about her personal love life in front of him) was that Betty didn't say anything about it.

Why is that?

Up to this point we've seen Armando slowly blur the lines of personal and work with Betty. Little by little we see him let his guard down, expressing his inner thoughts and feelings regarding his biggest burden and how it'll affect him. Betty knows him very well and he is very well aware of that as he tells her that he knows she understands more than anyone what he's doing while Armando barely knows anything about her. He knows she's got ethics, morals, and principles she sticks by. He knows her family and how humble and moral they are. He knows the most important parts of her character that makes her a trustworthy employee but he knows nothing about Betty's personal life like Betty does his.

In his own words again he says "I don't know, I don't know why she didn't confide in me. Me who has been very special to her-" please, let me bring you back to the past. In a post I mentioned that every time Betty gave him more of herself her rewarded her by doing the same in return. For example, when Betty showed loyalty to him he became more kind to her. When Betty showed unconditionality he showed loyalty. We begin to see a pattern of behavior. Whilst Betty's affection is shown through means of work and being respectful and having boundaries with him and living off her daydreams, Armando's is different. His affection is shown by blurring the lines between personal and work. By giving more of himself to her in an emotional sense.

He then concludes to say "This hurts me a lot, listen to me Calderon, I don't like this at all." Mario's perspective is that Amranod is worried for the same thing he is: Eco Moda. However Armando is on a different solar system as Mario tells him they should have investigated her more and again Armando goes to defend her. Saying that she is unconditional and has always been loyal to him. That he knows her perfectly, wouldn't you say this contradicts the plan?

"How the hell was I supposed to imagine that Betty! My Betty... would have a boyfriend?"

Armando then gives way to paranoia saying that Betty's personal life is deeply entwined with his, the companies, and his family's personal lives. Which means that Mario's seed of paranoia has now began to flourish in Armando and it shows his confusion. One moment he is defending Betty, the next he is questioning her. One second he is sure of her loyalty and the next he is worried about her having Eco Moda.

This is when the roles switch. In the previous days and scenes when Mario was paranoid Armando truthfully defended Betty and her loyalty. He was so sure of it but why does her having a boyfriend change that? Because Armando felt betrayed by Betty. He felt that she should have told him this. In other words Armando feels bamboozled because he isn't Betty's special man and now instead of Mario being the paranoid one he is the one to remind Armando that Betty is trustworthy. He tells him that Betty says "He's important for the company." and that the fact he's her boyfriend doesn't change anything he then proceeds to ask "Or what? You jealous?" and Armando laughs.

Notice his body language? He's biting his thumb nail, eyebrows arched and eyes worried. Yes, he is paranoid but he's also now struggling with the feelings that are left behind from the revelation that Betty has a boyfriend.

This will be part 1 of the next couple of episodes to break down Armando's inner struggle and why he is so stupid.

I need to get some rest lol

#armando mendoza #Mario Calderon #betty ysblf #don armando #nicolas mora #yo soy betty la fea #beatriz pinzón solano #armando ysblf #betty la fea #i need to go to sleep

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anomander-dragnipurake · 4 years

Text

Possess Part 2 Chapter Three: The Problem

It took more than an hour of tweaking and adjusting the scanner for E. Gadd to finally declare a verdict. “Your souls are merging,” he said, looking up from the scanner’s readout on his laptop.

“Uh… what does that mean?” Luigi wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Neither he nor King Boo liked the sound of it though.

“It means, your two separate souls are starting to merge and eventually will become one soul.” E. Gadd demonstrated with his index fingers as he spoke, holding them apart and bringing them together at the end. “You’re essentially on your way to becoming a single consciousness instead of two separate ones.”

“What… that…” Luigi stammered before being cut off by King Boo. “You better just be trying to scare us old man.”

Despite their last interaction and the way King Boo glared at him, E. Gadd now seemed unphased, confident that their need for his help kept him safe. “Why would I lie about this? It’s fascinating, I’ve seen anything like it.” He paused to look off to the side in thought, even raising a finger to his chin. “I wonder what could be causing it. Without more data and info, I can’t say for sure, but I believe it must have something to do with how long your souls have been in the same body together. There could easily be other factors in play in as well. It’s something I loved to look into further but…” He trailed off with a grimace as the tilt of his head indicated he was looking at Luigi and King Boo again.

King Boo and Luigi were in total agreement that the how and why of it didn’t matter, what mattered was… “Can you fix it?” The somehow managed to both speak at once. Which, now knowing why they were syncing up, made them even more displeased about it than before

“I don’t know yet. However…” E. Gadd snapped his chair around to face his desk, the remnants of the computers once there long since moved away and replaced with disorganized papers and various kinds of junk. He moved his laptop to side of it to begin sorting through the papers. He quickly found whatever he was looking for and hopped up out of his chair to rush over to stand next to Luigi.

“Behold the KBE,” he said, holding it out so they could both see it. It was a set of blueprints depicting a seemingly hollow machine. His chicken scratch handwriting all over it was borderline illegible. “That’s short of ‘King Boo Exorcist’.” King Boo snarled inwardly at that name but didn’t say anything for now because E. Gadd was still explaining. “It’s designed to force King Boo out of your body and hopefully leave you soul intact during the process. I’ll have to modify its design and change some of its innerworkings now that we know your souls are merging. But since I haven’t even started building it yet, thanks to a certain somebody wrecking my lab, forcing me start from the ground up, that shouldn’t be too difficult. … Hmm… I might need a few more parts though, I don’t know yet.”

“Uh… I’ll help if you need me too,” Luigi said with only a little reluctance from King Boo. The sooner this was dealt with, the better, especially since there was probably a point where it would no longer be reversible. … Hopefully they hadn’t already reached it or were anywhere close.

“I don’t think you or King Boo could help with building or designing it, you’d probably just get in the way if you tried. For the heavy lifting stuff and finding the needed parts, I already got a couple helpers, they should be back soon too now that I think about it. But if it’s needed, one more helper can’t hurt. Or uh… I guess it’s actually two helpers, huh? Hmmm… I never would’ve thought I’d have a chance to have King Boo himself as a lab assistant. Just think off the experiments I could run. I could learn so much about him and boos in general if he were a willing participant.” He grinned, rubbing his hands together in glee as he placed himself back on his computer chair.

King Boo bristled and made a hissing sound. “I didn’t volunteer to help you. You’re helping me with my problem because I’ll kill you if you don’t, understood?”

That gave E. Gadd pause, his glee fading. “If I fail though, your soul and Luigi’s will fully merge. Not something I’d like to let happen, even if I do stand to learn a lot from witnessing and studying it as it does. But in the event that I fail and that does happen, I predict his kindness will dampen your blood lust enough that you won’t kill me.”

King Boo growled. It wasn’t long ago that he’d had E. Gadd’s life in his hands, maybe it was time to remind him of that. He took a step forward, lifting a hand to grab him by the neck again.

No! Unlike Luigi’s previous attempts to stop King Boo from doing something, this worked. He didn’t take back full control of his body but just enough to cause King Boo’s next attempt at a step to end with them falling face first onto the floor instead.

“Oh,” E. Gadd said from above them. “You okay sonny?”

Luigi hadn’t been okay for what felt like forever now, he barely even remembered what ‘okay’ felt like. So he didn’t even try to respond as King Boo stood back up to brush himself off with an annoyed huff. He hated that Luigi could do that now, he wasn’t supposed to. … Too bad, Luigi could and because of that, he wasn’t going to let King Boo hurt anyone ever again, including me. Luigi needed to make that very clear because he was never going to go through that again. If King Boo didn’t like it – which he didn’t – he’d just have to suck it up and deal with it because Luigi was done with his bullshit.

‘I hate you.’ … The feeling was mutual; Luigi had never hated anyone more. … But as much as King Boo hated the reminder of Luigi’s growing ability to fight him, it made it pretty clear that he wasn’t in full control of the meatsuit anymore. Which unfortunately meant to make getting free of it easier and faster he might have to do the unthinkable and actually endeavor to get along with his enemy lest they merge or whatever. And honestly, Luigi leeching off his magic was just the worst and unacceptable, so much so, he might be willing to avoid giving him cause to do so when possible.

Luigi had to do the mental equivalent of a double take. If his mind wasn’t running so closely to King Boo’s he never would’ve believed it. Are you really thinking we should get along for now?

King Boo hated that Luigi could read his inner thoughts so clearly. There was nothing he could keep hidden anymore when he was supposed to be the one in control and the only one doing the mind reading but… ‘Yes, that’s what I’m thinking.’ He didn’t want Luigi fighting him for control every step of the way. ‘We both want the exact same thing.’ And honestly King Boo wanted it so bad he’d be willing to let Luigi go free if that’s what it took. ‘So for now, it’ll be easier for both of us if we cooperate.’ It grated for him to admit it but their souls fully merging would be far worse than losing a little bit dignity.

Luigi loathed the thought of getting along with King Boo but… he was right. It’d be easier for both of them to avoid fighting if they could. And… they’d both do whatever it took to increase the odds of becoming free of each other.

It made sense but… I can’t believe you’re the one who thought of it.

‘I can be reasonable sometimes.’ He was going to say more but…

E. Gadd grabbed Luigi by the tie and pulled him down to eye level. “Is you staring off into space like that going to become a thing now? What’s going on in that head of yours?” He poked the side of Luigi’s head.

Neither of them liked this invasion of space, King Boo far more so, but as promised, he let Luigi gently pull away. He was the one who spoke though. “Just coming to an agreement not to kill or threaten to kill you for now. You better fix this though.”

E. Gadd nodded. “I intend to. The pursuit of science is important but Luigi deserves better than to have his soul wrapped up in yours for forever.” There was an uncharacteristic amount of venom in his voice. It sounded weird coming from him but was heartening to hear.

An hour later

While E. Gadd went over the KBE blueprint Luigi and King Boo kind of just hung out in the lab. He called them over for more tests and scans twice but in the meantime, they found a spare chair to sit on while Luigi worked on regaining Polterpup’s trust. Though really it was more King Boo’s convincing Polterpup that all was fine with him now. He was more of a cat person but dogs were cool too, even ones that were traitors.

But alas, very soon after they had him playing fetch with them, he lifted his head to look towards the exit. A half second later, he jumped off and ran out into the front room. Good things never lasted long, did they?

The doorbell rang. E. Gadd, froze and looked up, hopping off his chair. He got halfway to the door before he paused to look at King Boo and Luigi. “Oh uh… I probably should’ve told you who my current lab assistants are, huh? Whoops. Oh well, too late now, you’re about to find out anyway.” With a wave of his hand to follow, he resumed exiting the room.

With shared curiosity, King Boo stood up and followed. They arrived in the front room in time to watch Gooigi enter, helping someone still outside maneuver a stack of boxes on trolley inside.

“This,” E. Gadd said as King Boo stepped up next to him, “is most of, if not all of what I need to make the KBE. With my lab all busted, I had to order in special parts from all over and have them custom built elsewhere. It was expensive but Princess Peach actually funded all of it because…” He continued but Luigi was no longer paying attention because E. Gadd’s other assistant and the one helping bring the boxes in was…

“Mario!” Luigi stepped forward, intending to rush over and hug him. It had been far too long since he’d seen Mario, he’d missed him so… His second step failed as his leg refused to move, resulting in him stumbling and landing on his face again.

Evil bastard that he was, King Boo laughed. ‘Vengeance for earlier.’

Me trying to hug my brother and you trying to choke E. Gadd are not comparable. And King Boo had promised to get along. The idea to do so had even come from him.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve had my fun, I’ll be good now.’ Mostly anyway. He even stood them back up.

Mario had approached but hung back nervously. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Luigi hugged him. He froze for a second before hugging back. “Luigi!”

Luigi did his best to ignore and push back King Boo’s distaste for this, drown it out with his own intense feelings. He even succeeded a little.

‘Stop it! It’s gross! I don’t want to feel that!’ King Boo fought but leeching off his power, Luigi managed to maintain control for now. He’d been having an awful time these past few weeks especially and he’d been so lonely and afraid and missed his bro so much, he was going to enjoy this brotherly hug for as long as he possibly could and there wasn’t a single thing King Boo could do stop him.

“It’s okay,” Mario said, lightly patting his back.

Oh! Luigi wasn’t sure when he’d started but he was crying as he clung to Mario, more sobbing really. He wanted to explain; tell Mario how horrible and awful his life had been lately and how scared he was by this new revelation, and how much he didn’t want his soul to merge with King Boo’s, but he lacked the words so… he just clung on him for dear life and cried instead.

“We’re okay now.” Mario sounded very unsure of his words but it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was that he was here.

Eventually his tears petered out, leaving him feeling drained and exhausted but overall better. And… horrified and disgusted, that he’d cried at all, especially so much… no, that feeling came from King Boo. He still didn’t want to let go yet but… King Boo made him.

Mario gave him a small hopeful smile, keeping a welcome hand on his arm. “This means King Boo’s gone or uh…” his eyes shifted up towards King Boo’s crown for a brief second before meeting Luigi’s again, “something, right?” He looked so hopeful, Luigi wanted to lie and…

“Nope, I’m still here,” King Boo said, making Mario flinch away, breaking contact completely. “And very unhappy with everything that just happened.” He was even a little frightened by how overcome with Luigi’s emotions he’d been. Even now, he couldn’t muster up nearly as much hate for Mario as he knew he was supposed to have. … Good!

“S-sorry,” Luigi said, pulling his arms in to hug himself. Maybe… he shouldn’t have hugged Mario when Mario didn’t know King Boo would technically be part of the hug too but… he’d just needed it so bad. “I… we’re… he’s kind of stuck in me and….

“Our souls are merging,” King Boo cut in because he wanted to see the horror on Mario’s at the revelation. He wasn’t disappointed either. “Meaning if we don’t fix it, and get me the fuck out of this meatsuit, we’ll cease to exist as separate entities. Which I’m sure you can guess is something neither of us want and so here we are, trying to get it fixed before it’s too late.”

“Mamma mia,” he muttered under his breath; his way of not cursing. King Boo hated it.

“He’s uh… playing nice for now,” Luigi said. “Mostly anyway.”

“That uh… good. Can E. Gadd can fix the whole…” Mario gesture vaguely towards them, “… soul merging thing?”

“Hopefully,” they said together, hating that they’d done so even as they did it. But having exhausted all other options already, E. Gadd was their only remaining hope.

#My writing #super mario bros #Luigi's Mansion #booigi #Mario & Luigi #Some weird soul stuff #Luigi gets a much needed hug

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