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oldmemoria · 5 months

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okay heres the fucking thing about this script controversy that some people don't seem to get.

just gonna say it blatently:

strap in babes this is gonna be a long one!

The way Miguel O'Hara is written in the leaked transcripts is blatantly racist, here's why from a Latino himself!

all wrapped up in a sweet little bow for everyone who doesn't know how to comprehend what they're reading, cheers!

er. i mean.

¡Salud!

Miguel fans are not mad that they depicted him in a bad light and that they made it clear that he is in the wrong

WE FUCKING KNOW. WE'RE NOT STUPID.

Miguel has been depicted as a morally grey asshole since the early 1990s, which is when Spider-Man 2099 was initially debuted. And while yes, the movies are.... inaccurate, to say the least, it still stands.

The issue here is how he is depicted. They directly call Miguel O'Hara, a Latino man, an ANIMAL (he is directly called an animal TWICE. FUCKING TWICE.)

[1st image id: Miguel leaps onto Vulture, Clawing his way in past the renaissance armor. he is an ANIMAL. (keep in mind ANIMAL is literally in all caps.) /end id]

[2nd image id: Miguel SLASHES at the walls of light that surround Miles. Clawing the energy field apart, an animal in the throes of bloodlust -- /end id]

I need you to really soak in the fact that he is called "AN ANIMAL" twice. I'm awful at alts and ids but I feel I must so you can read it in plain text. sorry if they suck.

Our issue is not that the writers seem to have a bias against the character. a lot of writers write characters they dont particularly like and in turn tend to write them from a foggy lense of their own perception. An example would be Kate Cary and how she didn't like Crowfeather, a character she had to write about. I'm sure some of her bias seeped through. but this is different.

writing a Latino man as a bloodthirsty animal, implied to be called a predator because they call one of the people he fights (im not sure if its miles or the vulture, im leaning towards believing the former.) his "prey", THOSE ARE ALL RACIAL STEREOTYPES. ALL OF THEM.

[3rd image id: But Miguel can only see his prey: /end id]

There is no context to be needed here, the context is that this is miguel we're talking about and that they call him an animal. it does not matter if he is a villain or not (which he isnt, factually he fucking isnt im tired of having this conversation, fuck you). it matters that he's depicted in a racially insensitive way.

and this person brought this up pretty well actually, I didn't even think of it:

[4th image id: Tumblr user @/404-505 saying:

i want to be so mean to them

they couldn't write miguel crossing the border and stealing a job so they wrote him crossing into another universe and stealing his own identity

they couldnt write miguel as a drug addict so they gave him spider steroids instead /end id.]

They bring up a really good point about these clear stereotypes being seemingly. . . disguised behind points that are narratively relevant? This could literally just be pure coincidence, but noting how the writers wrote him before... it isn't looking too good for them. Sorry. Not sorry.

It is clear that there is some kind of bias against miguel that led to really disgusting, racist retoric. Whether or not it was intentional or if it was a first draft or whatever, the writers, which may i remind you were white, still wrote this at some point.

it makes me question whether or not they hated him because of his "bullshit utopia", their words not mine, or because of their own racial biases.

We cannot know because miguel is the only mexican character on the cast. I know Miles is Puerto Rican, but there are differences between how they were portrayed. also Puerto Ricans and Mexicans come from competely different cultural backgrounds that share simularities but are still different dont even try i will destroy you.

Using another users words again, but:

[5th image id: Tumblr user @/transmiguelohara says:

Don't talk to me about the Miguel parts in the script. I'm so disappointed in how the writers view him.

The difference between the way Miguel is written (antagonist, not the villain) vs Spot (the villain, whats to kill Miles' dad and everyone he knows) is soooo.....I don't know man it just screams racism in sorry. Describing Miguel as a bloodthirsty animal? Repeatedly? Treating him like he's mindless and has no motivation beyond having a hair trigger temper? It sucks man. /end id]

It also strikes me that now that we finally have a brown-skinned miguel, they write him like, well. this.

I don't really know if this is petty or not, but I want to wrap this back to the way the fandom also sees Movie Miguel.

Because TRUST ME it is not good either.

Miguel O'Hara Vs. FANDOM: Spoilers, it's been troubling since the beginning.

From the beginning (and by beginning in this case I mean since he was announced to be a character in this movie) Miguel has been continuously sexualized, beyond belief. He is repeatedly called "papi cholo" which NEED I REMIND YOU "Cholo" is a derogatory term used to call someone, usually a mexican person, a criminal or a delinquent.

FUCK YOU if you are not Latino OR hispanic and use this to describe people. from the bottom of my heart.

I'm pretty sure the majority of the people who called/ still currently call him "papi cholo" are mixing it up with "papi chulo" (white people moment.) which means something completely different but is still troubling as hell.

"papi chulo", which is slightly different in the way, just directly translates to "big daddy". Which again, Latino men being overly sexual "Latin Lovers" is ALSO A RACIAL STEREOTYPE. also its just blatant fetishization. Point blank fucking period.

Not only that but I notice a lot of art and fanfiction depicts him doing a lot of violence, or being very overbearing and demeaning, or in short terms.

a lot of people write him as physically and sexually aggressive.

fuck do you mean he growls during sex i can and will send you to space with no return.

which

for the millionth time

racial stereotype

halleluiah or however you spell it.

Having him say random spanish phrases you don't know the meaning or connotations of in your fanfiction is icing on the cake at this point.

fucking end me.

it isn't even only sexual depictions, since he's been shown in the movie, a lot of people seem to just see him as this guy who goes off and tries to kill children at a hairs trigger. which uh. fun fact no he fucking doesnt.

you clearly didn't watch the movie as well as you thought you did. hes just sarcastic and generally pretty level headed through the majority of his runtime, whether its implied by how characters around him act, or its just what we see on screen.

He doesn't necessarily have anger issues, the moment we see at the climax of the film is quite literally a mental break. he is not acting in a way that he usually would because he was cracking under the stress of holding the multiverse together with some scotch tape and orange glitter glue.

Also side tangent but he also has a mental break in the comics that's a little more... droopy and sad as compared to the movie, but it still happens. he has shitty mental health is what im saying. he only really lashes out angrily when hes at his wits end because that's how he grew up. he was taught to suppress his feelings and seem smaller when he was upset.

he is the result of abuse and neglect. of course he wouldn't be amazing at emotional regulation.

Which before anyone says it no, this is not an excuse for his actions. just an explaination that isn't "hes an angry animal that has it out for miles UwU" that everyone seems to have in their brain. I'm tired of you all. truly.

the sentiment that hes agressive and angry and his only emotion is anger and upsetness unless he's horny which is when he experiences all these emotions tenfold is. racist. idk how clear i have to be for people to get it through their damn skulls that the way the fandom depicts him is harmful. do i need to slap you in the face with a fish until you understand. do i need to burn your fanfiction. will you get it now that a 15 year old latino boy has to scream it in your face.

and dont even get me STARED on how inaccurately he is written

this is a more light hearted section because idk. feels like i should have it because this part is just comical, pun intended. How can you fuck up this hard guys.

I was gonna give them the benefit of the doubt because "Miguel has fresh trauma!" "He only shows up for like 10 minutes!" "insert 3rd reason!" for his drastic change in demeanor and personality, which, without context, are valid reasons for him to be a little different. trauma fucks you up man. we only see 10 minutes of him. but at this point im chalking it up to complete incompetence

it doesnt take that long to read a comic book guys. you could have done a little research, I know you can do it.

first off:

[6th image id: Miguel's SPIDER-SENSE goes off! He races to the edge if the building and peers into an empty alley -- /end id]

LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN "SPIDER-SENSE"

Unless you didn't get the total of TWO jokes that they made in ONE scene (the vulture fight scene), Miguel doesn't have a spider sense. at all. He has elevated senses, but he doesnt have a spider sense.

guys

guys.

you made TWO jokes IN A ROW about it. YOU WHACKED HIM IN THE HEAD TWICE WITH IT. HOW DID YOU FORGET

I cant help but laugh! this is a rookie mistake! these are seasoned writers! They could have done at least a little research, or at least remembered that he doesnt have one, no? is it that hard? or does his lack of a spider sense only matter when you're making fun of your least favorite character? thats what I thought.

this one is less funny. not to sound like a stereotypical comic nerd but this infuriated me a little bit I'm not gonna lie.

[8th image id: tumblr user @/darksidecorner reblogged tumblr user @/spiderxpawz with:

They definitely didn't

a screenshot of the script reads:

AN INDUSTRIAL TANGLE OF HUGE PISTONS -- the literal DARK UNDERBELLY that undergrids Miguel's bullshit Utopia.

Miles doesn't know where to go... but he doesn't need to: SOMEONE YANKS him up into the safety of an alcove.

the user then continues:

This in particular made me PISSED because they quietly canonized that Miguel is CEO of Alchemax while conveniently ignoring that he did everything in his fucking power to BETTER Neuva York. Downtown wasn't built by him. It was built by people WAY before him.

I can excuse and defend some comic deviation, but THIS? Holy FUCK /end id]

I honestly cant tell if I find this part funny or pathetic because seriously. he did not do this. why are you blaming him for something he had nothing to do with. i dont think he decided "hey i should build a city for rich people over poor people because reasons" when he was like... not even alive. Alchemax did this before he was even sentient. it had always been this way since he was born. he also actively hated this decision. because he actively hates alchemax.

but right MIGUELS bullshit Utopia yeah HE did this that EVIL LITTLE BABY i cant believe him

kill me.

In conclusion:

I. . . Don't really know, to be honest. I'm still processing all this. I am genuinely disappointed and upset because this isn't okay. It never will be, and if it takes yet another blunt essay with absolutely no filter for people to understand it then so be it. I don't care if this comes off as mean. This is something I feel qualified to talk about and I will express my disappointment and anger if I want to.

All of the posts I reference I have reblogged within the last 24 hours of making this post, they shouldn't be that hard to find, but if you want the links to them here they are:

https://www.tumblr.com/spiderxpawz/735344322114977792/live-mexican-reaction?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/404-505/735289664739606528/they-couldnt-write-miguel-as-a-drug-addict-so?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/transmiguelohara/735289238625648640/cant-believe-the-writers-have-the-same-reading?source=share

if you want your image to be removed or for your link to be removed just ask and I'll do it. but currently im kinda bummed out and tired.

goodbye.

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winterpower98 · 2 years

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This isn't really a question but I had a LMK AU idea. Macaque and Sun Wukong are mates pre JTTW. They have a kid named Sun Xiaotian (nicknamed little loquat). When Sun Wukong is sealed under the mountain and Flower Fruit Mountain is burned, Xiaotian perishes in the fire (Macaque burns alive too but survives unlike little Xiaotian). Sun Wukong has no idea. Macaque stays until he's sure Flower Fruit Mountain will survive on its own then he disappears never to be seen or heard of again. (A little scene in my head is Macaque burying Xiaotian with a mango seed to symbolise him always watching over him).

Fast forward to present day LMK, everything goes as canon except maybe Sun Wukong being more depressing and sad. At some point there is a reveal where they find out MK is the reincarnated soul of little Xiaotian. Sun Wukong doesn't really believe it because "why would the heavens allow my son to reincarnate? Wouldn't they do their best to prevent that" (I'm sure you can guess where this is going lol).

The Shadow Play scene is different because no Macaque, maybe it's the Mayor with the Shadow Lantern??

Then there is the fight with Lady Bone Demon where she reveals a secret weapon, a very large monkey-like vengeful spirit that is completely feral. As they are about to defeat it she reveals it's the soul of Macaque.

So what's happened is that Macaque went into the Underworld and make a deal with Yama. Xiaotian gets to reincarnate with good karma and Yama gets Macaque's eternal soul to be punished as he sees fit. Yama agreed and Macaque will spend the next several hundred years being forced to relive his son dying in his arms and being burnt alive. He's obviously driven mad by the experience.

Now here's where you get either a sad ending or a happy one.

Sad ending - they defeat Lady Bone Demon but Macaque is beyond repair and they either destroy his soul to end his suffering or Sun Wukong spends the rest of eternity guarding a sealed/locked away Macaque.

Happy ending- they defeat Lady Bone Demon and Macaque goes back to the underworld because LBD is no longer keeping him on the mortal plain. They go on a journey to the Underworld and retrieve Macaque's soul. They discover that he will not hurt MK which gives them hope that he can be healed. There is a scene where they accidentally destroy the Shadow Lantern which they discover had a small piece of Macaque's soul in it. So he has a bit of an anchor and they are able to bring him back. The end.

Another little tid bit-

The mango seed Macaque buried with Xiaotian grows into a massive tree, and intertwined in it's roots is a loquat tree. This image was why the AU idea didn't immediately vacate my brain once it finished lol.

Couldn't really decide on what the call the AU, I was considering calling it the Karma AU. Because Macaque and Xiaotian's suffering was karma for Sun Wukong, and then Macaque's deal was karma for Xiaotian. And the suffering of his parents was karma for Xiaotian. You get the idea.

Other character's fates are optional.

Okay I'm done, I just had to share because I love your ideas and wanted to share mine.

Peace out ✌️

That's a really angsty AU, but you know me, I love angst.

And the idea of using Mayor for the Shadow Play episode is so good because that would turn so much creepier than the canon one!

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #monkie kid au #Karma au #monkie kid karma au #yeah that's a good name for it #winter answer #winterpower98

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abraxos-and-ataraxia · 2 years

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Crown of Ash and Blood

Chapter 7

Pairing: Eris x Original Character

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: mention of violence, little horny action (idk it’s pretty tame)

Summary: Eris is cool, calm, and collected. He’s not known for the fire in his blood, but for his cold manipulation of truth and lies. Until he meets his match. Literally.

Masterlist

One evening, Eris arrived with an unexpected greeting, “Happy Solstice.”

Danae gaped at him. “I’m sorry, you know how to be happy?” When he bristled, she just grinned, snatching the package from his hands before he could snap at her. “What’s this?”

“A drink. Obviously I need one,” he grumbled, but she could’ve sworn his lip twitched up. Just a bit.

“Is it fire whiskey?” Danae ripped into the plain paper wrapping. She’d never had it, but the younger males at camp wouldn’t shut up about the stuff, having tried some during the war.

“You can’t handle fire whiskey,” Eris informed her, moving to the fireplace, rather than their usual spot in the kitchen. He tossed an extra log on the fire before relaxing into the armchair. “It’s cider, you’ll like it.”

Danae spun, narrowing her eyes at the back of his head. “And how do you know what I like?”

“You may have heard of it,” he said, using the tone that never failed to start one of their arguments. “It’s called ‘the power of observation’.”

She made a face, knowing he couldn’t see it. “Just pour me a glass of your mysterious drink,” she snapped, stomping over to thrust the bottle at him. Eris smirked, summoning a pair of goblets for them. When he handed one to her, Danae sniffed. Apples? She took a tentative sip, pleasantly surprised by its sweetness.

“You have a sweet tooth,” Eris informed her, then downed his glass.

Danae stared at him, sitting cautiously on the couch. “Is this the plan? Get me drunk for Solstice?”

“Correction: the plan is to get myself drunk.”

That didn’t sound like the same man who told her “drunkenness is voluntary madness” the one and only time she requested wine. Needless to say, he hadn’t provided any. Danae supposed it was possible he was feeling festive, but she doubted it. After enough evenings spent battling Eris over chess, trading truths and insults alike, she’d come to understand him a bit better. At least enough to recognize when something was amiss. She wondered if the alcohol would make it easier to annoy him.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, leaning over the arm of the couch. “Your secret lover—a stable hand, perhaps—has abandoned you, running off with one of your brothers.”

“No.”

“The wife of a lord, then.”

Eris finally cracked, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No. Though on one memorable occasion, the opposite happened.”

Danae’s mouth dropped open. “You stole your brother’s lover?” She supposed Eris was good-looking, if one was interested in perfectly sculpted features and otherworldly beauty.

“He had the nerve to cheat me at chess,” he said.

“You are the pettiest male I’ve ever met,” Danae huffed a laugh. She gulped some more cider, tearing her gaze away from his sharp jawline. “Tell me another.”

“I once left a female in the Middle because she threatened me with a fork,” he said. Danae whipped a pillow in his direction. He managed to block it without spilling his cider, she noted. “You know the rules,” Eris reminded her.

“Technically, we never made any rules or agreements, this is all just,” she flapped her hand for emphasis. “Unofficial.”

Eris lifted a brow, sipping calmly. “If you don’t want another story,” he trailed off, letting her decide.

Danae growled, “Fine. Once upon a time, I was born. The end.”

“Tell me about your family.”

That gave her pause. The words weren’t harsh, like she usually expected from Eris. No, he actually sounded…encouraging? The strangeness of it loosened her tongue a bit. The cider helped too. “Just my mother. I never knew my father. He was a stranger on Calanmai, or so she tells me.”

Eris leaned forward, goblet dangling from his hand. “You’re a child of Calanmai?”

“It was during Amarantha’s reign, when she opened the borders between courts,” Danae explained, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “He was from Day.”

“That’s why you asked me to take you there,” Eris determined.

Danae grumbled into her goblet. “I hate that you remember that.”

“I still can. Winnow you to Day, I mean,” Eris said, stumbling over his words. Frowning, Danae shook the bottle, finding it nearly empty. How had he managed to drink so quickly?

“Right now?” She doubted it.

Eris set his drink down on the low table between them. “After our deal is complete, I won’t hold you prisoner. You’ll be free to go anywhere you wish,” he promised. She believed him.

Danae changed the subject before they delved too deep into her past. She wondered if that was his true plan—get her drunk enough to spill all her secrets. Perhaps he was stone-cold sober, and this was an interrogation. She wouldn’t put it past Eris to master some sleight of hand for just this purpose. “I didn’t even realize it was midsummer already. Shouldn’t you be at some courtly celebration? Why are you here?”

“Summer Solstice isn’t as big of a holiday here, considering this is the Autumn court,” he snarked. “I already made an appearance.”

“And you’re here because?”

Eris drained the remainder of the cider into his glass, then magically made a new bottle appear. “I found the idea of your company the least painful.”

Danae smirked at him. “Wow, a compliment. You’re in rare form. Was someone mean to you tonight?”

He stiffened. “I stand corrected,” Eris said coolly. “You’re much more tolerable when silent.”

“And how will that work with our little deal?” Danae leaned forward, eyes catching on his clenched jaw.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you have useful information left, or if we exhausted your memory weeks ago.”

“You should be grateful we don’t have a bargain, or you’d be forced to listen to every one of my childhood memories,” Danae said. “Down to the smallest detail. Then you’d really hate spending time with me.”

“I’m immensely grateful,” Eris said, looking anything but. His fingers tightened around the goblet before making it vanish. Abruptly, he stood from the chair, straightening his jacket. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If you don’t have anything else of worth, our deal will be off.”

Danae scrambled off the couch, watching as the unopened bottle of cider disappeared as well. His face was back to its usual blankness. She wondered what had tipped him over the edge, ending their game. “Wait, I still owe you a truth tonight,” Danae said, breathless. She wasn’t ready to be alone again. Especially when he was striding to the door like he had that first night.

“I don’t care,” Eris snorted. “There’s nothing else I want from you.”

She followed him, nearly stepping on his heels. “Not even a daemati? I didn’t think you’d forget about that.”

Eris paused before opening the door. “I assumed it was a lie,” he said, keeping his back to her.

“It wasn’t,” Danae said, folding her arms across her chest. Eris turned his head to regard her over one shoulder. “I just knew better than to offer my best secret first.”

“Smart.”

“I learn from the best.”

Eris let go of the door, facing her fully. “Are you going to share, or is this a stalemate?”

Danae lifted her chin, trying her best to look haughty and imperious. She’d been watching Eris do it for weeks, so it wasn’t hard to replicate. “I will if you escort me outside the cabin.” When he blinked at her, confused, she elaborated, “Your rule. I promised not to leave unless you were with me.”

Regret flashed across his face, there and gone in an instant. “So you did.” Eris snapped his fingers, summoning a heavy cloak and warm boots. For a moment, she just blinked at him, not quite understanding. “For you,” he said, shaking them in her direction. “In case you haven’t realized, it’s not truly summer here.”

Danae shook out the cloak, surprised to find it was designed large enough to fit over her wings. She was abruptly reminded of the casual way Eris had adjusted her other clothes when she asked. She wondered if this was another instance of the power of observation. That’s what he’d say if she asked.

Once she was properly attired, Eris gestured for her to follow. “Come on, let’s take you outside,” Eris smirked, pulling the door open.

Danae grumbled, “What am I, a dog?” But she followed him anyway.

* * * * *

What was he doing? Eris hadn’t stopped to think since he fled the Forest House earlier that night. He couldn’t even pinpoint what had driven him to the cabin. His father had been his usual brand of cruel, though he’d been more tolerable after blood was spilled. Dion was deep in his cups before the first song started, and Loren disappeared into the shadows soon after that. Only Castor had stuck around to make Eris miserable. His brother had been keeping a close eye on him since his last “failure”. Beron had surely offered up a reward to the next brother who could reveal one of Eris’ secrets. That thought kept Eris in his seat for hours, wary of who might notice his absence if he left. Concerned that someone would follow him to the cabin. Eris was always worried about what information might reach Beron, but somehow, he’d winnowed to the Cauldron-damned female without thinking at all.

Now he was summoning cloaks and mending them like some doting nursemaid. He cursed the damned bond in his chest, a bond that had only grown stronger with every minute he was forced to bear her presence. Cauldron damn him again for making that stupid deal. She wasn’t even a useful informant. He could’ve gotten all of her information elsewhere without needing to house and feed a helpless female.

Eris pointedly ignored the voice that corrected—his helpless female.

She wasn’t even helpless, he admitted, refusing to look at the female in question. If they hadn’t made a deal, she would probably be killing her way across Prythian with some silverware. Instead, Danae was honoring the terms of their agreement. He had to admit his shock that she’d listened to him, considering her blatant disregard for danger. He ignored the voice that wondered if she would like following other orders.

“What are celebrations like in Illyria?” Eris needed a distraction.

“That’s the truth you want? Not the daemati?”

“Later,” Eris said, dismissing the potential pawn in favor of finding an excuse to come back to the cabin again. He refused to look at that logic too closely. “I’ll tell you about the festivities in Autumn,” he found himself offering. An exchange. Always a balance with them. That bond hummed, equals. Eris wanted to rip the tether from its moorings.

“It’s pretty shit,” she chuckled. Danae turned her face up to the sky, moonlight edging her features in silver. “Summer is the only nice time of year, so everyone’s outside before it starts snowing again. Just drinking and fucking, not much ceremony.”

“Sounds lovely,” he said dryly.

“As if Autumn does any better,” she teased, a nudge for more information.

“No fucking,” he said. “Plenty of drink, a bit of ceremony. It’s mostly an excuse for my father to gather his lords and execute a few, if he’s in the mood.”

Danae whipped her head to look at him. “Is that what happened tonight?”

“A few rolling heads is nothing new at court,” Eris said. “Tonight, it was a lady who was sending aid to Spring, to help them rebuild. Her lord husband was complicit. They had relatives there, evidently.”

“He killed them for trying to help others?”

“They weren’t from Autumn. We help our own first, to the exclusion of all others,” Eris parroted his father’s words. They were bitter on his tongue. It had been a while since Beron had the opportunity to exact punishment on someone other than his family. A part of Eris was thrilled with the reprieve. He turned away from the feeling, only to be confronted by all the other roiling emotions this female drew from him. She was like some kind of poison, a truth-serum he couldn’t resist, but also one he didn’t want to stay away from. As always, words rose to his lips unbidden, “My father is a very kind and understanding male, as you can tell.”

Danae’s eyes were softer than usual, not that he had been paying attention. Eris made a point to ignore their hazel depths when they played chess, not wanting to memorize the blur of color. “I think we need more cider for this,” she said, smiling crookedly.

He summoned a bottle for each of them, making Danae laugh. Eris ignored that, too, popping the cork and taking a healthy swig. He knew better than to indulge. He knew the risk of alcohol loosening his tongue, spilling his secrets at Danae’s feet. He didn’t trust her not to pry. It’s what he would do. Wasn’t that what he was currently doing? Hoping she’d share something that made him feel like the less vulnerable one for once?

“I don’t want to go to Day,” Danae said, breaking the silence. Eris stayed quiet, letting her continue at her own pace. The best confessions weren’t forced. “I want to go back for my mother.”

Eris could read enough into that statement alone to answer a dozen questions. The female had no doubt been clipped, was trapped in the Night Court, in a shithole camp filled with the males Danae had escaped. Eris had left them alive that day, but he couldn’t say what Rhysand had done with them. He wondered if the prick had been careless enough to let the males return. From the look on her face, Danae had already considered all the outcomes.

He wasn’t a fool, and neither was Danae. They both knew what hellish torment had likely fallen upon her mother in some twisted form of retaliation. The daughter had fled, but the mother would not. Could not. Without wings, was there any chance of outrunning trained warriors? That’s why Danae planned to return, he realized, inhaling sharply. Eris couldn’t fault her loyalty, not when he’d be foolish enough to do the same in her shoes.

Eris cast a brief thought towards his own mother, the risks he’d taken and would continue to bear for her. She never had wings, but she’d been clipped all the same, hadn’t she?

Looking over at Danae, he found her lost in thought. Her eyes were fixed on the treetops, wings rustling. “What do you love, Eris?” The question caught him off guard. Danae didn’t give him a chance to escape, turning that piercing gaze on him with the force of a spear to the chest.

“Trying to woo me already?” His heart pounded.

“There must be something more to you than derision and suffering,” she said, ignoring his taunt. “What kind of male lets his father torture him and others?”

“I don’t let him do anything,” Eris sneered. “Do you let your High Lord ignore his people in favor of starting wars? I hardly think you’re one to cast judgments.”

“Perhaps you’re too weak-willed to stand up for anything, even yourself,” Danae curled her lip, her expression as cutting as his own. “Was I right, calling you a coward? Or are you as cruel as your father?”

Eris’ blood roared, bottle dangling forgotten in his fingers. He didn’t stop to think that the alcohol was lowering his inhibitions, letting him say things he otherwise wouldn’t. “Bold words from a female who left her mother behind to suffer in her stead.” He regretted the words the instant they left his lips, long before her palm collided with his cheek. Eris rocked back on his heels from the force of the blow.

“Say that again,” she dared him. Her fury set her eyes ablaze in a wash of gold. But unlike Danae’s usual brand of anger, this was crafted of such an impenetrable cold, Eris hardly recognized her.

For a moment, he could only marvel at the creature before him. He knew he should be apologizing or backing away out of self defense, but Cauldron, she was beautiful. Anger turned most people into monstrous versions of themselves, but somehow it only served to sharpen Danae, making her edges that much more wicked. Damn it all, he was hardening in his pants. He had better control than this, what was wrong with him?

“I’m sorry,” Eris rasped, digging his fingers into one thigh as a fresh distraction. The pinpricks of pain managed to clear his head a fraction. Guilt tore at him, shredding his defenses.

“Why? It’s true,” Danae hissed, baring her teeth at him. They gleamed in the moonlight. Eris dug his fingers in deeper.

He shouldn’t want her, especially not like this. Eris told himself it was the drink, nothing more. He’d been alone for decades, perhaps a century now. It was just the alcohol. He regulated his breathing, maintaining composure on the surface, praying his scent hadn’t changed enough for Danae to notice. Or at least hoping she didn’t know what it meant. He reached for something to keep her attention away from him. She’d asked what he loved. “My mother,” Eris tore the words from his throat, forcing the admission into the open. “I love my mother.” It left him shaking a bit, fear dissolving whatever desire remained. But he knew he was on shaky ground. Danae was a landslide to his carefully constructed walls.

The words had the desired effect, bringing a little light back into Danae’s eyes. They changed, transforming from cold and deadly back to their usual hazel. “What else,” she demanded, voice still edged with winter.

“My hounds. The fastest in all of Prythian,” Eris said, pride swelling past the dirty snarl of emotions in his chest. “I have twelve.”

“Twelve?” Shock colored her tone. Danae took a step back, looking less murderous than before.

“Fret not, I’m not cruel to them,” Eris said, bitterness seeping in.

“I didn’t say you were,” Danae said. He simply lifted a brow. She had just implied that he was as bad as Beron. Danae flushed a bit, but didn’t apologize. He shrugged it off—he’d heard it plenty of times before. “I just…twelve dogs? Where do you keep them?”

“Perhaps one day you’ll earn a visit.”

Danae sputtered, “Earn?”

“You’ll have to be very, very good,” Eris drawled, lifting the bottle back to his lips. Damn the consequences. It couldn’t possibly get him into any more trouble with her. But when she turned, ignoring him in favor of looking back up at the night sky, he found his eyes drifting over her. Perhaps he would find himself in trouble regardless.

* * * * *

They stayed outside until Danae began shivering, even with cider warming her belly. She knew better than to ask about flying, sure that Eris would tell her no. Someone might see you, he would say. Never mind the fact that the cabin was in the middle of nowhere.

Eventually, they moved back to the fire, still trading memories. For every fact about her childhood, Eris revealed something about his own. He was stingy with information, refusing to say anything about his brothers, and he was almost as tight-lipped about his mother. Danae complained—loudly—about the inequality. She refused to share anything else until he told her something interesting.

Danae sprawled across the couch, cradling her bottle in petulant silence. Eris sat in the armchair again, his eyes like warm honey after all the alcohol. She was so used to them being cold, unfeeling things, she could hardly stand to meet his gaze.

She didn’t regret hitting him. But now her palm was hot. Danae kept her eyes on his chest instead of his face, inspecting every detail of his elegant attire. She’d come to dismiss the princely outfits, just another aspect of Eris’ high and mighty appearance. But tonight she let herself look. He wore a cream shirt and pants, everything tailored perfectly to his body. It meant she had a good idea of the form beneath the clothes. He was long and lean, but muscle lurked under the burgundy vest and jacket. He walked too smoothly for a limp wristed courtier. No, Eris walked like he knew how to use the hidden daggers tucked up his sleeves. Gold buttons winked in the firelight, drawing her gaze down his chest. Danae pursed her lips, looking away again. She wasn’t interested in how tight his trousers were.

“See something you like?” The question snapped her out of whatever spell his tight pants had woven over her.

“Just counting your daggers tonight,” she said, fighting to keep her tone even.

Eris frowned. “How many?”

Danae used the opportunity to look him over again. She tried not to linger anywhere, like his shoulders, but he filled out his jacket so nicely. “Three.”

Eris looked down at himself, his frown deepening. “Damn,” he muttered, obviously disappointed.

“I like you better when you drink,” Danae said, chuckling. It was baffling to see him display so much emotion in one night, as opposed to his usual frozen mask. She was lucky if she managed to catch disgust and irritation on the same night. “Or maybe I just like you better when I drink.”

“But you do like me.” Eris was wearing such a smug smile, she had to bite back.

“I’d like you better if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole,” Danae crooned.

Then that scent again, some spice she couldn’t name. Her nose flared, eyes flicking back to Eris. She sensed it when she hit him, but Eris always had such a tight leash on his emotions, she’d never detected anything before. Danae puzzled over it until she realized his eyes were fixed on her mouth.

She blinked. Was he…aroused? “Is that why you came here tonight? To get me drunk enough to go along with some fantasy of yours?”

He lifted a brow, smirking lightly. “I don’t need to rely on drink to make females pliable. And no, that’s not why I came tonight.” Eris leaned back in the armchair, legs spread comfortably. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of wine on his lip.

She glared at him, shocked when the spicy flavor in the air intensified. Best to nip this in the bud, or he’d be just as nauseating as the males from home. “I’m never going to suck your cock.”

Eris’ smile was wolfish. “Never is a very strong word.”

“So is the word ‘no’,” Danae smiled back. “I will cut off your favorite bits and feed them to your hounds if you ever lay a hand on me.”

“If I ever touch you without permission, I’ll let you,” Eris said, unruffled. Then his smile widened. “You have a very dirty vocabulary.”

“I heard plenty of foul language growing up as an Illyrian daughter out of wedlock. Cock is hardly the worst thing I could say.”

“If I ask nicely, will you tell me other things?” Eris purred.

Danae did her best to compose a vulgar threat and paired it with a rude gesture to ensure he got the message. Eris merely threw his head back, laughing without restraint. The unfamiliar sound threw her off. It felt like the world was tipping off its axis. He was drunk, she told herself. This was still Eris, the same male who’d dumped her in the Middle without a care. The male who flung flaming bullshit at her on a daily basis. The male who only wanted her for valuable information, and then he’d be wiping his hands of her. He barely tolerated her when sober, so she couldn’t take him seriously now.

“Perhaps you’d prefer it if I was the one whispering filth,” he chuckled. Eris lifted the bottle to his lips, throat working around a swallow.

She scrambled for a retort, “Wouldn’t be much of a difference, you’re always spewing garbage.”

“Just because it’s not something you like to hear doesn’t make it garbage,” he said.

Danae found herself watching him again, eyes locked on his throat. She told herself it was because of her desire to choke him to death. Not because she could see his heartbeat, that little vein throbbing faster than usual. Almost as fast as her own.

“Tell me, Danae,” Eris said, in a voice she’d never heard from him. He sounded like smoke and shadow, the words sliding over her skin, lower. He said her name like a curse, like some kind of vicious prayer. Her mouth went dry. “What do you like to hear?”

Her breathing was shaky, and Danae knew he could tell. Eris watched her, his pupils slowly drowning the molten amber in his eyes. His gaze dropped to her racing pulse, the way she swallowed hard. She could practically feel the drag of his stare down to her toes and back.

Eris leaned forward, elbows on knees, to place his bottle on the table. He licked his lips again, and she wanted to run, but she was frozen in place. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, or even where to look. All she knew was the warmth growing in her veins, settling deep in her belly. She didn’t even know why. Danae liked taunting Eris, liked pulling emotions from him, pushing his buttons to see how he’d react. She didn’t want him. She didn’t. Of course not.

Danae almost clenched her legs together in defiance of the growing heat there. But she couldn’t bear it if Eris saw. Then there would be no more doubt, no more teasing. Would she even have a say? Once he knew, wouldn’t it be just like before?

When Eris’ paused, nostrils flaring, her stomach dropped to her toes, breath stuttering to a halt. Danae leapt off the couch, cider spilling across the floor, the table, everywhere. She backed away, keeping her eyes on him to ensure he didn’t move, didn’t follow her. Her lungs burned, but she finally reached the bedroom door, fingers scrabbling over the surface to unlatch it. Eris sat still, so still she wondered if he’d stopped breathing as well. But he didn’t move a muscle.

Danae slammed the door shut, both on him and the memories that came rushing to the surface. She fell into bed—limbs so tense they trembled—and watched the door for hours.

* * * * *

Sleep eluded her until the sky began to lighten, but even then, Danae only managed to find a few hours of rest. Nightmares dragged her back to wakefulness quick enough.

With a shaky sigh, she untangled herself from the sheets. Her cheeks burned when she remembered the horrors of the night before. She’d never drink again. Danae could only hope that Eris would forget most of it. Or that he’d be chivalrous enough not to mention the more embarrassing elements. She snorted, because when had Eris ever been chivalrous? Perhaps to advance a joke.

She had no interest in becoming his next source of amusement.

The door swung open quietly, and Danae crept outside, prepared to face the mess she’d made of the living room. But instead of finding puddles of cider on the floor, she found the candles burned to stubs and Eris lying on the couch rubbing sleep from his eyes.

They blinked at each other for what felt like centuries. Then Eris suddenly sat up straight, setting a book aside. She saw a few others piled up under the table. “Good morning,” he blurted.

Danae snorted. Someone had drilled manners into Eris very thoroughly, she mused. Then she really looked at him. Her tension dissipated so thoroughly that she soon found herself laughing. She’d never seen Eris so…rumpled. His jacket was slung over the armchair, his boots discarded beside the couch. His hair was pulled back into a half-hearted bun, tendrils escaping over his ears. Purple shadows were smudged beneath his eyes, evidence of fatigue that mirrored her own.

“Hangover?” Danae grinned at him, her embarrassment mostly forgotten.

To her immense amusement, Eris’ cheeks pinkened, along with the tips of his ears. “I couldn’t return home in such a state,” he mumbled, standing abruptly. “My father would be displeased.” And wasn’t that a sobering thought. Danae avoided sleep to keep her nightmares at bay, but Eris still had to live with his.

He rounded the couch on stockinged feet, nearly making her smile again. It was so odd to see Eris like this. He seemed less princely and perfect, though he wasn’t any less pretty. She shook off the thought.

“I should have asked to stay,” Eris said, clearing his throat.

“It’s your cabin,” she remarked.

His mouth twisted. “I still should have asked. If it happens again, I will.” Some part of Danae finally took a breath at the words. Manners, indeed.

She nodded to the kitchen. “Food?”

Eris grunted, stalking towards the table. To her immense surprise, he pulled out a chair for her. Danae sat down carefully, watching him settle in across from her. He summoned tea, warm pastries, breakfast meats, and a bowl of fruit. Better than her usual breakfasts at the cabin. Better than anything in Illyria, for certain.

He waited until she’d tucked away a good portion of food before saying, “I sleep like shit, too.”

Danae inspected his face again, remembering the books and the candle stubs. “From what I can tell, you don’t sleep at all.”

“Exactly,” Eris said. His expression tightened, eyes suddenly far away. She wondered if that’s what was in store for her—centuries of sleeplessness over the cruelty in her past. “Fewer nightmares that way.”

* * * * *

Previous • Next

#eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra #eris vanserra fic #acotar fic #acotar fanfic

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dream-meister-translations · 1 year

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MEL CHARACTER CARD #2

━

Not long after the jewellery incident…

MEL : Hey, Volks, who made this tea? It doesn't taste good at all…

EMMA : Oh, that was me…

EMMA : (I made it for myself, not you…)

MEL : The steeping method is all wrong. How can you take pride in brewing a cup of tea like this?

MEL : And those flowers don't match at all!

MEL : The colors clash with the furniture! They're so ugly and worthless, why not just throw them away?

EMMA : (Those are the flowers the laborers bought us…)

EMMA : Mel, we plan to place those flowers on proper display at a later date.

VOLKS : Well, how about this?

EMMA : Huh?

Volks takes the flowers and moves them beside the staircase.

VOLKS : If we put them here, won't they harmonize with the room and look festive while doing so?

MEL : But that's beside the point. The flowers are all wrong to begin with!

Come to think of it, Mel's always like this around Volks. Always finding something to criticize…

━

Then one day at lunch…

MEL : Mmm, mmh… What in the world is wrong with that chef's nose? They went completely overboard with the spices.

EMMA : Yeah? I heard they have a reputation for spicy food.

MEL : It's absolute ludicrous that people praise them for this kind of thing. I don't know how anyone goes out of their way to eat here…

EMMA : Mel. You're way out of line.

VOLKS : Hmmm… Indeed the spicy aroma in the air is incredibly strong.

VOLKS : For someone with such keen senses, it's only understandable they make you uncomfortable…

MEL : Hah! See, Master, I told you, didn't I? There's something wrong with the kind of freaks who enjoy this trash!

VOLKS : That said, Mel… One's preference for a food's taste or aroma varies from person to person. No matter how worthless you find them...

VOLKS : Not everyone agrees with you, you know that, right? Take myself and Emma for example…

MEL : Huh? Ugh…

EMMA : I'm… Sorry for getting so mad at you, Mel. I've been trying to be more like Volks since the last time you guys had an argument like this…

VOLKS : You don't need to apologize, Emma. Such a rebuke can be an important factor in one's growth.

VOLKS : Hm… In that case…

VOLKS : If you're feeling the same way, then I will redouble my efforts to refine him.

EMMA : ………..?

━

One day, after another such exchange…

VOLKS : We've received a request from Gloria, the land of majesty and power. They wish for the Dream Weavers to coordinate an event for the Princess debutante.

EMMA : Debutante…? So its a party to celebrate her public debut?

VOLKS : Yes. And as per the client's wishes, it must be perfect in every way.

VOLKS : So, I wanted to ask… Emma, you're a girl, and Mel's incredibly insightful. …What do guys think?

MEL : Hah! They want it to be perfect? Pity, you don't know the meaning of the word!

EMMA : (Mel's looking even more upturned than usual today…)

MEL : Heh, heh… But, oh well? If you say you need me, I'm powerless to stop you. So what can I do for you?

VOLKS : Thank you for your help, Mel… Now then, let's begin…

VOLKS : To start with, I've prepared a sample dress for her to wear at the big event.

EMMA : Wow! It's stylish and fresh! It's perfect for a girl's public debut!

MEL : Hmmm… Maybe for your average girl, but you're kidding yourself if you think it's the kind of thing a princess would wear…

MEL : Of course, it's perfect if you're looking to blend in with the crowd, but it simply has no impact at all. The princess would have to be super plain and super boring to wear a dress like that!

EMMA : (Harsh as always, it seems…)

VOLKS : Your opinions of the princess aside, I appreciate your honesty. Did you have any other concerns?

MEL : Of course I do! Let's just start from the bottom and I'll tell you everything you did wrong, okay? Let's start with…

Mel began listing off one scathing remark after another, criticizing everything he laid his eyes on. But even still, Volks simply listened to every last one of Mel's criticisms with unwavering satisfaction, smiling all the while.

#Yumekuro #YMKR #Yumekuro Translations #YMKR translations #Otome #Dream Meister Translations #Otome Translations #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy #Yumekuro Mel #YMKR Mel #Mel #Yumekuro Volks #YMKR Volks #Volks

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pettydollie · 8 months

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talking about each of rory's boyfriends

dean: ugh. ik EVERYONE says this, but s1 dean was just like soo perfect. too good to be true. he was cute, charming, and kind. i think he was a good 1st bf for rory. besides the fact that he freaking dumped her just because she wasnt ready to say "i love you back" and didnt respect her opinion on donna reed. and theres more. s4, took advantage of her and took away her virginity (im not fully blaming him, rory made me really mad too). like dude, he was MARRIED. poor lindsay didn't deserve being treated the way she was also. she just wanted to be with her husband. and then he based their (rory and dean) little relationship on sex. LIKE HUH?? when he was drunk the night before his wedding, he was saying how rory could fix the world, he loved her, and how she was so smart. what happened to that like what.. overall, i think he was great for a while until he wasn't. he also didn't have any character development at all. jess: in case you haven't seen any of my other posts, i am 100% team jess. i could write an essay about why he was the best bf, but i wont. and im not saying he was perfect at all. like ofc not, no one is! but the little things he did were just soo cute even when they weren't together. like buying rory's basket for $90! ughhh i love that episode sm. anyways, i love the fact that they were genuinely great friends before lovers. AND LETS TALK ABOUT SEASON 6. "wHy did you drop out of yAAleE?" iconic. okok so i absolutely adore that he was being totally honest with her. he was just real. like "rory, wtf are you doing?" he got her head back in the game. omg i saw this one post that was saying how when logan bought rory that birkin bag, she thought it was nice but didnt really know how to respond, but when jess gave her a copy of his book, she was really happy. because she has something special with him. ALSO did anyone else notice how jess was the only bf she didnt have sex with?? not really too important, but just wanted to say that. in AYITL, he gave rory the idea to write a book. i feel like he was always there for her. always. as a friend, bf, ex, and then friend again. through her ups and downs, he was there. fight me all you want, they shouldve been endgame. i was a upset when he got all angry when rory didn't want to have sex with him in another person's house. ik that he was moody or wtv but still. AND THE FACT THAT HE JUST LEFT WITHOUT TELLING RORY. im not saying he shouldve stayed (well i kinda am) but i was so mad that he just left her in the dark. also totally not necessary, but here are some of my fav quotes from him. "ernest only has lovely things to say about you", "i love you", "an innocent boy like me should not be raised in an atmosphere like this! i wanna be good, life's just not letting me", "i like this shirt. it brings out my eyes", "it feels like im with rory and youre not", "wanna push me in the lake?", "22.8 miles. do you YAHOO?" i have more in the dungeon logan: 2nd fave bf. he was meh. sometimes he was an absolute jerkk but i do like how he pushed her out of her comfort zone a bit. AND how he tried the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing because he liked her so much. and personally, when jess went to visit rory in s6 ep8, i think he had a valid reason to be upset. like he literally pulled up to richard and emily's to see rory with a random dude going out. and the first thing she said to him was "when did you get back? i thought you were coming home tomorrow?" i mean i could totally see why he thought something was going on. (but he did overdo it a little. at first it was understandable but as the night went on, he was just being plain rude). on the other hand, he was kinda boring to me. i feel like he didnt really have much of a personality besides being rory's bf. BUT I HATE HATE HATEEEEE that he was hooking up with rory and ENGAGED TO ANOTHER WOMAN in AYITL. its like dean all over again smh. tbh im glad rory didnt end up with him. BUT HES HER BABY DADDY (im pretty sure) LIKE NOOOO anyways, these are just my opinions and feel free to disagree just dont bash me please <3

#rory gilmore #gilmore girls #a year in the life #gmg #jess mariano #dean forester #logan huntzberger #these are just my opinions folks

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bushs-world · 2 years

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MoM spoilers under the cut

*there is some rant below so read at your own risk

So I finally saw MoM and I am not quite unimpressed. I actually had high expectations from this movie but honestly it was very underwhelming. It was kind of all over the place

Now the movie definitely had some plus points. There were amazing visuals in the movie. The special effects were off the charts. Rachel McAdams rocked as Christine. Benedict Cumberbatch was good. I loved America Chavez and Wong was a sweetheart as always. And Elizabeth Olsen nailed her performance as an unhinged Wanda. She definitely gave me Daenerys Targaryen vibes, especially when she entered the darkhold temple and the monsters bowed down before her. But the story was a mess. Here's some of my critiques:

• I feel Wanda's face-heel turn was too drastic, lazy and messed up her character arc from Wandavision. WV had its problems but it did show Wanda reconciling with her grief and freeing the people of Westview once she was forced to see the reality of what she was doing. For her to go from someone who sacrificed her (albeit fake) family because she realised she hurt people to sending monsters after Chavez and not caring if she dies is too drastic change imo. Worst of all this change is supposed to happen offscreen. And using the darkhold as an excuse to justify her sudden turn to villiany was plain lazy. MCU Wanda definitely had a dark side, which would have been interesting to explore but the MCU just wasted it. I personally would have preferred if they showed Wanda slipping into madness and then becoming unhinged.

• Can somebody please explain to me why Doctor Strange is so hated across all universes? Like the movie tried to paint him as a catalyst for destruction but honestly what was his fault? They just kept throwing lines like all you Stranges are the same. You all can't be trusted. The biggest threat to the multiverse is you. We had to kill Strange. Is it because he bends the rules? Or because he is willing to use the dark magic and forbidden spells? Or because he is practical and places importance on the greater good than individual lives? Everytime he broke a rule or used a forbidden piece of magic, it was for someone else's benefit. Isn't that hypocrisy given that the Ancient One also drew energy from the dark dimension, why is Stephen blamed when he literally does it because it is his last resort, and because he can't find another way. Stephen is just blamed for everything because he is slightly overconfident, guarded and willing to bend rules, which are just stupid in the first place.

• Talking of Strange, what was his character arc in the movie? It's his movie, how did he grow? What lessons did he learn? The only character development I saw was bowing down to the sorcerer supreme and keeping away the watch to symbolise the end of his relationship with Christine. Strange didn't have a character arc at all, this was basically a plot driven movie. What about his hands?

• Why the hell did Strange and the sorcerers of Kamar Taj not keep Wanda under their guidance after knowing what she did in Westview? How could you let her be all alone especially after such a big incident?

• Can Marvel stop bringing beloved characters only for fan service and then quickly disposing them off. The whole Illuminati scene kind of felt like a cheap fanservice to bring in fans, only for them to not matter. Us fans get excited about the cameos only for them to be quickly discarded. They did it in Hawkeye with Kingpin, and now the Illuminati. If they don't add to the story, just let it be.

• Also Marvel stop using deaths for shock factor. Its just getting boring now. You brought in Captain Carter, Maria Rambeau as Captain Marvel, Black Bolt, Professor X and most importantly John Krasanki as Reed Richards only to kill them off in a few minutes 😡😡. Especially when we know John will return in Fantastic 4 (I guess). Like that's idiotic and annoying. I think Loki series was the only one able to handle character introduction before character introduction properly.

• Where the hell did the concept of variants go away? You establish in Loki and NWH that variants are their own different persons with their own stories yet every single doctor strange variant had near identical personalities. What happened to let's learn from our variants and grow like in Loki and NWH? Every single Strange is essentially the same just with different costumes. And when two Strange do meet, there is no exploration of their differences, no delving into their mistakes, just a piano keys fight. ???

• Also why use the concept of multiverse when you weren't going to explore the idea of different realities and how they can interact and imbalance each other. And how many times are you going to reintroduce the concept of multiverse and add in new rules? Why isn't Marvel keeping continuity?

• Where the hell did the entire premise of Loki series go? And how could Chavez visit 72 universes when there is supposed to be a sacred timeline? (or I am getting confused)

• Also, I don't know why but I couldn't connect with Wanda's grief the way I could connect in WV. Like I couldn't feel her loneliness, her pain, even her motherly love towards Billy and Tommy. Maybe that's just me but this movie didn't pull my heart's strings like WV did.

• And lastly, what was this ending? It felt so rushed and didn't quite fit. Like you spend the whole movie showing Wanda relentlessly trying to get her children back then suddenly leaving. I feel the scene didn't deliver the emotional payoff it needed. Compare that to WV's last scene. It still moves me to tears.

I am not saying the movie is horrible. In fact, it is quite enjoyable atleast as a one time watch. It also has some jumpscare moments. But I guess I was expecting something totally different.

#doctor strange spoilers #mom spoilers #doctor strange multiverse of madness spoilers #rant #discourse #doctor strange multiverse of madness discourse

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rosenlied · 5 days

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Ranking every single fes card in Project Sekai

(This is just my opinion so do not get mad)

27. Tsukasa: I’m sorry Tsukasa I love you but what even is that card? If it was an untrained then it would be whatever but as a Fes card it’s very underwhelming if not straight up disappointing. The outfit looks plain and that’s not even getting into how dull the lighting is. I wasn’t expecting the best card in the game but for a Fes card it sucks so hard. I've seen some people say that it's supposed to show him in a more casual light but even then D4DJ's X-Cross Beat and Side Nova cards exist. There was no reason for it to look that bad when D4DJ has shown how good cards showing characters in a more casual light can be.

26. Saki: I’m sorry Saki I do like you but that card really isn’t anything special. It’s just a generic by the pool card to the point where I thought it was an edit when I first saw it. It’s not as bad as Tsukasa’s card but to say I’m not a fan is an understatement.

25. Emu: Man they really blew it with the last trio of Fes cards huh? This card isn’t bad per se but it just looks and feels bland, which is not what you want from an Emu card. Its cool to see a more mature side of her but it’s just overall very bland all things considered. Love the hairstyle though, especially as a Kamisato Ayaka and Kirari Momobami fan.

23-24. Rin/Len: Look these two are more or less the same card so I’m treating them as such. They aren’t bad but I really don’t care for how bright they are, it just feels blinding and not in a good way. Sorry Kagamines fans.

22. Miku 2: This card is cool but it doesn’t really stand out, especially among the other darkness festa cards. I love the drills though and I really hope they were referencing Teto with that.

21. Luka: See what I said for Miku. It’s a cool card but for as much as I love Luka it just doesn’t hit as hard as the other Darkness Festa cards.

20. Honami: She looks gorgeous here but there’s unfortunately really not much going on. It’s not a bad card, it’s just not really my cup of tea.

19. Airi: I get what they wanted to go for here but it just kinda falls a bit flat for me. Sekai sadly took a while to find its footing with colorful cards (though I may be comparing them to much to Bandori’s) and this one is nothing special. The untrained on the other hand is fantastic.

18. An: I love the concept for this card a lot, I just think they could’ve done way more with it in terms of colors and what not. Still it’s not bad, and I love how her hair references Nagi’s.

17. Mafuyu: I can’t be biased here I’m sorry. I adore Mafuyu and the sinking effect is cool but it’s not anything to write home about. She has way better cards even if I do love the idea of an underwater library.

16. Minori: This card is super cute but I’d hesitate to call it anything special. Her smile is precious though.

15. Rui: love the concept for this one but I feel like it’s greatly overshadowed by other Rui cards. It’s a nice card don’t get me wrong but it just doesn’t hit as hard as his Yokai card or his cyberpunk card.

14. Mizuki: See what I said for their boyfriend. I like this card but it’s very overshadowed by other better Mizuki cards and overall isn’t anything special outside of the Niigo plushies.

13. Ichika: I actually like this card quite a bit. I thought it was bland at first until I took another look and realized that it symbolized her learning to express herself. The main thing that sadly holds it back for me is the existence of Rainbow Canvas Emu and the Nomad cards which all do the paint concept so much better.

12. Kanade: For being an earlier Fes card this really holds up. The background was gorgeous, I just feel like my only problem is that you can barely see Kanade. Granted Haruka’s Hopeful Show card is worse in this regard but still.

11. Akito: He looks cool here. Not much else to say. I actually prefer the untrained, he looks so happy.

10. Miku (1): I love seeing Miku look like the goddess she is, and seeing her soar through the sky is very cool. For being an early Fes card I’m shocked that it holds up this well.

9. Ena: I love the use of browns in this card and it’s really nice to see her look like an actual professional artist. She’s just in her own little world doing what she loves and I love that for her.

8. Kaito: Holy shit this card. He looks so cool, so badass. Also the basketballs are a nice touch.

7. Kohane: As someone who does photography as a hobby I love this card. It’s so cool, and I love the kaleidoscope aesthetic. Between this and Take the Best Shot they’ve been focusing more on Kohane’s photography skills and I’m so glad.

6. Meiko: I don’t know what I can say here, she just ate this up. I love how cool and mature she looks, it’s just a great card overall.

5. Shizuku: Dear god where do I even begin? The puzzle pieces? The butterflies? She just looks stunning and I love how mature she looks here. Goofy Shizuku is great don’t get me wrong but her mature serious side rocks as well.

4. Nene: As a former theatre kid I’ll never not eat this card up, she looks so cool! I love the Broadway inspirations as well it makes perfect sense for her character. Bonus points for the untrained implying that Hamilton is canon in the Sekai universe, that’ll never not be funny.

3. Shiho: I love how stylized this card is, to this day it really feels like we haven’t seen a single other Sekai card try that kind of style. She just looks so cool and determined and oh my god the bright lights with the signs make this.

2. Haruka: ok I may be a little biased but can you blame me? She looks ethereal here. I love the use of blues and her the birds flying.

1. Toya: This is both me being biased and loving the symbolism. I love how this card shows Toya’s growth with the piano and how he’s beginning to face it. Also the sad yet slightly thankful expression he has kills me every time.

#project sekai #pjsekai

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nothing-but-haikyuu · 3 years

Text

A Small Friend

Reader: F Character: Kōtarō Bokuto Rating: G Summary: You played with the gift in your pocket. It was wrapped in tissue paper with a sticker on it reading your boyfriend’s name, Kōtarō Bokuto. You had made it for him when he went to the qualifiers for the Japan Olympic Men’s Team. Warning: Fluff Ask Box: Open | Check Out ThreadytoGoDesign | Join me on Patreon

You played with the gift in your pocket. It was wrapped in tissue paper with a sticker on it reading your boyfriend’s name, Kōtarō Bokuto. You had made it for him when he went to the qualifiers for the Japan Olympic Men’s Team.

You did everything you could to make it as lucky as possible, every wish, prayer, ritual, you even put a small Pyrite stone in it. You crinkled the tissue paper as you walked through town with your hands in your jacket pockets.

You sighed to yourself, you had been working on this project for a few weeks now. It wasn’t perfect, you had just learned the skill to make it but you were eager to make something for your boyfriend. You were meeting at your favourite cafe, the one with the good coffee and delicious chocolate cake.

Bokuto knew he was on an athlete’s diet, but often one slice would be okay. At least in his books. As you approached, you saw him through the window with two cups of coffee in font of him. You smiled to yourself and with a pep in your step you quickly made it inside to protect yourself from the cold.

The silver haired man saw you and smiled. He beckoned you over and you slinked through to the back of the cafe and sat down across from him, taking off your hat and placing it on the table.

“How’s my beloved.” He smiled as you nudged the second coffee over, “Was worried you weren’t going to show up, you didn’t respond to my last message.”

“Oh, bobo.” You said, “I was underground and the train was delayed. I’d never stand you up, especially not now. The qualifiers are tomorrow, right?”

“Yep, bright and early!” He chirped, his hands gave a slight shake of anxiety, “Can’t wait.” But you knew he was rather nervous about the prospect of playing for the Olympics. That was why you wanted to give him a gift.

You took off your coat and slung it over the back of the chair before you gave your boyfriend another smile, “Thank you for the coffee, Bo. Cream instead of milk right?”

He nodded, “I remember from last time.” Bokuto was the type of men who bounced between overly sweet coffee or just plain black, it was determined by how wired he wanted to be. After becoming friends with Sakusa on the Black Jackals, he had taken a liking to tea in recent months.

He rubbed his leg against yours and rested his elbows on the table, “So you’re going to come to the practice match? They’re allowing partners and what not to come.” His smiled grew, “I’d love to have you there.”

“Don’t you get nervous when I’m at games? You say it makes your anxiety worse.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. But tomorrow is different, this is the next big step for us.”

“You mean you.” You said.

He shook his head, “No, no, beloved, Both of us. After all you’re gonna be my wife soon so.” He dragged off. Bokuto wanted to get married literally a week after you met, but you told him to wait till after you graduated college, then you can start planning.

You chuckled and reached out for him, “Still about marriage huh?”

“Of course, why couldn’t I be?” He asked, “You’re my one and only!” He beamed, “No c’mon drink up, we’re celebrating with two slices of cake.”

“Oh wow, won’t the coach get mad.” You chuckled.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell.” He then placed a finger over his lips for a moment.

You chuckled and said, “Well, I have something for you for tomorrow.” You felt your cheeks grow warm as you worried over if he was even going to like it. You saw him perk up and ask.

“What is it?”

You leaned towards you coat pocket and said, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Then plucked the gift out of your pocket.

Bokuto happily closed his eyes and held out his hands across the table. You hesitated for a moment to put it in his hands but eventually did. Watching him open his eyes to see the wrapped present.

He blinked at it for a moment, then his smile grew as he demolished the wrapping paper, leaving little specks of the stuff on the table, near his drink. What was revealed was a small crocheted bear with a sewn heart on his chest.

Bokuto didn’t say anything for a moment and became worried. Did he hate it? Did he think it was dumb?

“Do you-” You started before Bokuto interrupted you.

His eyes grew wide with excitement as he cheered, “I love it, baby!” Then crushed the toy against his cheek, “It’s so soft and squishy!”

You blushed more, “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” He smiled as he looked at its little eyes with admiration, “Oh, I love it, baby. It’s beautiful, he’s going with me tomorrow for practice.”

“It’s meant to be good luck.” You said shyly.

“Well then of course he’ll have to come! I need all the luck I can tomorrow, baby! I’m sorry I couldn’t make you something as cool, but I promise to make it up to you.”

“Oh, Bo. You don’t have to.” You said shyly.

“No, no. I want to. Please.” He placed the bear down and reached out to you, he touched your hand gently, “When I get into the Olympics, I’m going to win gold for you as thank you.” Then gave you a grin, “I promise.”

“Alright, Bo.” You said, “You win gold for me and Mr. Bear.” Then smiled a bit at him. He just grinned and squeezed your hand before he went back to his coffee, idly playing with the toy as he talked with you.

You felt pleased with yourself and what you created. Bokuto’ reaction made your heart soar, maybe he was going to be a good husband. Not that you doubted it, but you could see yourself spending forever with him.

#bokuto x reader #kotaro bokuto #kotaro bokuto x reader #bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #haikyuu fluff

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

i am the anon who asked earlier about the character limit ! i’m ready to send my ask now-

so could you write something about a female mc (or gender neutral it’s up to you !) that doesn’t take a shit form anyone ? like when someone bother she just “tsk” before threatening them and the bois are like “wtf that was kind of hot tho-“ .

i can see them just simping for her like we simp for them and it’s making me laugh-

also i’m not really sure if you write for them but a small reaction of perhaps side-characters to her ?

i’m really asking for too much skdkdjdksowkw-

thank for reading it and i hope i’m not bothering you ! ( ´ ▽ ` )

Alright, for this one, anon allowed me to pick some Twst guys to react to MC

But, ahem…. hope they’re (and y’all are) happy with the way I carried this out

Neige (& dwarves) + Che’nya are also included, as they wished to see side characters react to this MC too

Let’s get started (bc it’s loooong)~!

HAPPY 1st ANNIVERSARY, EVERYONE!! 🥳🎉

-- -- --

OVERVIEW

Heartslabyul: Riddle is very surprised at her behavior and may scold her for it, but he secretly admires the confidence and will to stand up for herself. Trey is also taken aback, but well… if that helps her get through NRC, fine by him (he pretends not to see). Cater SIIIIIIMPS like duuuude THAT ATTITUDE IS WHAT HE DESIRES TO HAVE AGAINST HIS SISTERS (she’s his role model now). And man, do I even need to say what Ace and Deuce think? PLAIN FUN, and they simp, Deuce a little more than Ace.

Savanaclaw SIMPS and simps HARD. Ruggie and Leona due to females in Afterglow Savana being overall more respected. Not to mention IRL lionesse are in charge of hunting and female hyenas are the dominant ones in pairs. Jack I see as someone who admires people who are strong and can stand for themselves, and a no bullshit MC is wow… but perhaps he thinks maybe she could be a little more polite.

Octavinelle is a little hard to read. Azul first is very surprised and a bit offended, but once he finds out she acts this way towards everyone and anyone… Be ready to become his 3rd bodyguard lol. Leech Twins adore to annoy her, Floyd provokes her more with tugs and shoves while Jade can just throw ANY comment her way with that smile to trigger the instinct; she’s become their little plaything of sorts.

Scarabia: Kalim is SHOOKED!!!! The first time he hears her comments leaves him with a surprised pikachu face. Jamil is startled a bit, but man… SIMPS, and is like "you speak my inner thoughts".

Pomefiore: Vil is also VERY surprised, but admires the way she so willingly defends herself with only words and harsh glares (anger looks very pretty on her). Rook SIMP, yuuup. He's amazed at how just one comment and death stare from her has magic wielders cowering in fear, gets goosebumps from excitement when those are directed at him. Epel simps too! Like DAMN HE WANTS TO STAND UP FOR HIMSELF LIKE THAT!!! No more stupid etiquette classes, time to be tough! (Vil quickly turns his plan to dirt tho lol)

Ignihyde: Idia is ?????? At times, he's very intimidated by her, but on other occasions he's ready to talk back (this especially when he's communicating through the tablet). Ortho is shook, too. For someone who comes from another world and is scared by many possible scenarios in this Wonderland, they're surprisingly brave. He likes her! Get ready to be his Big sis

Oh man, Diasomnia… Malleus is surprised when he first sees the change of attitude, since she's nice in his nightly visits to Ramshackle, but very soon he'll be like "I like this human" Slowly becomes her simp. Lilia is VERY amused by her behavior and sometimes likes to provoke her. As soon as a threat is thrown his way, however, he'll be ready to throw one back as he smiles brightly. Silver is surprised, they all cower before her, how?! He may or may not simp, but he absolutely looks up to her (wishes to be more assertive like that). Boy oh boy… Sebek… SHOOKED; just try to say something rude to his Young Master, get ready for the loudest "EXCUSE ME?!" and following rant. Shooked and shooked TO THE CORE.

ALL the staff are very irritated by her antics, but the ones more vocal about it that have a little back and forth with her are Crowley and Crewel. Sam just laughs it off, besides it's rare for her to threaten him (mainly bc he gives special discounts for her).

BOY...RSA… Neige is SHOOKED, but rudeness never stopped him from making friends and pull a smile out of them (well, ya better stop right there bc she's ready to PUNCH). Needless to say, majority of dwarves are surprised too… except, Grant who just chuckles and says like Jamil "speaking my inner thoughts". Che'nya acts as if it's the most normal thing, doesn't flinch back or anything ("we're all mad in our own ways~ it's the norm here")

In the end, all of them simp for her, one way or another~ (and let her get away with a handful of stuff bc simps)

Heartslabyul

"Aren't you the cutest little thing~? Look at your lil' nose sniffing my finger so adorably!!" The [color] haired girl gushed at the hedgehog in her hand, carefully petting its colorful quills.

Someone sighed in irritation at her behavior, "Stop that! We're not allowed to pamper the hedgehogs like that, so cut it off!"

[Color] eyes narrowed at the intruder, "And who here says I care what you, or the rules, say? They're animals, pets practically. You need to show them affection for them to live long, happy lives, dumbass."

At the small scene, Trey interrupted, “Let's please act accordingly. Come on, we need help painting the roses." The 3rd year signaled the other Heartslabyul student to follow.

"What?! No, not fair! How come she's not getting punished for this when we get scolded for it?!" He raised his voice.

"Hey now, leave [Name]-chan alone, she isn’t bothering anyone. Be a good kouhai and listen to Trey-senpai. Remember vice dorm leader is just as respected as dorm leader here." Cater cut in, trying to somehow make things lighter.

"Bull-!" Before the guy could even finish his sentence, Riddle appeared.

"What seems to be the matter here? At this rate, if you keep getting distracted with unimportant things, we won't have our preparations ready." The redhead followed their gazes to the girl sitting on the floor surrounded by a rainbow of hedgehogs.

"Ah, I understand." Riddle nodded.

"Thank-!" However, the student was once more cut off by the 2nd year.

"[Surname] was appointed by me personally as hedgehog caretaker. Her activities consist of cleaning cages, feeding, and the important task of pampering them with affection and love." Heartslabyul's dorm head explained, "We do play croquet frequently, and many 1st years don't treat our animals superb. Not to mention, it is said the Queen of Hearts herself would pamper her hedgehog just like [Surname] is doing… Admirable, don’t you think?"

"Are we clear now?" Slate grey eyes looked sternly at his dormmate.

Defeated, the boy accepted. "Yes, dorm leader Rosehearts."

"Go help Cater and Trey with rose duty." Riddle dismissed the boy.

On his way out, a certain troublesome 1st year made an indirect comment.

"That's why you get informed before complaining about things~" Ace teased.

Deuce smacked his friend on the back of the head, "Shut it, we committed the same mistake when we first saw [Name] baby talking the hedgehogs."

"H-Hey! There was no need to reveal that!"

Savanaclaw

Full cafeteria, the worst scenario ever. Not to mention both [Name] and Grim were starving.

So, when she saw an opportunity to get in line for the (oddly) short line for [fav. food], she did. However…

“What the fuck’s up with you?! Just because you’re a girl ya think ya get special treatment, dumbass?!” Some random rude student said.

Oh, bad move, idiot.

All [Name] had to do was throw an icy glare their way and turn away slowly for the boy to tremble in his socks.

Human and Grim picked their full and finally headed to any empty spot available, which resulted in them sitting with the Savanaclaw students, who watched the scene unfold.

“[Name]-san, that’s some temper you’ve got-” Ruggie began talking, but was immediately silenced by the same icy stare.

“To hell with that, I am hungry and ready to destroy the world, so better keep your mouth shut to see your future.” The girl grumbled, taking the first bite of her precious meal.

Three pairs of ears flattened in shock, looking at one another to agree on what they experienced right now.

“Wait a second…” Ruggie thought, breath hitching after receiving such cold glare.

Jack kept a watchful eye as he drank his water, strange warmth crawled up his face. “That was…”

Leona, for once, looked awake enough. Green eyes with a tinge of respect reflected in them, teasing smile slowly developing on his face. “Seems like the herbivore has some fight in her… Nice, very nice…”

“That was… very attractive…” The trio gulped down whatever they were eating, before averting their gaze elsewhere to hide the blush. Except Leona, he chuckled silently before looking down at his plate to recover from the little display of power from her part.

Meanwhile, the otherworldly student and cat monster shared a confused look. “Weirdos… Do they enjoy seeing me eat? Yeah, not sitting down with them again.” [Name] decided.

Octavinelle

"Keobi-chan~!"

"Not again…" [Name] grumbled between teeth. Just as she thought she was out and away from the whole Octavinelle trio, these two come again for her.

"Let's go, koebi-chan! Azul wasn’t done talking with you~” Floyd grabbed onto her arm and tugged.

“You two never know when to stop, or do you?” Grim swiped at Floyd’s hand as best he could from the girl’s shoulder.

Then came the chuckle she hated most, that instantly ignited that fight or flight instinct in her. “Please, Floyd is simply stating the truth. Azul is adamant in speaking to [Surname]-san, it’s only expected of her to allow him some time. After all, he was so gracious to lend his help when she most needed.” Jade linked his arm with her free on and began walking.

“Oi! Get your hands off me! I’ve heard enough from Azul! I’ve declined the offer more than enough times for it to get through his head!” The [hair color] stood her ground as much she could, but the two towering eels still dragged her to their destination.

Floyd laughed, “Little shrimp fighting for her life when she’s already lost~” He shot Jade a look and his twin immediately knew what he wanted to do. They lifted her from the ground and began swaying side to side.

“What the hell?! Let me down, let me go! I’ve had enough of you! We’ve helped Azul more than enough already!” [Name] and Grim were left to flair and yell more protests while the twins chuckled and laughed at their predicament.

Eventually, they arrived at Octavinelle and the two-halves-of-a-whole students were plopped down onto the couch inside Azul’s V.I.P. office. The tweels left them with those sinister pointy teethed smiles of theirs, sending chills down the duo’s spines.

“Now now, [Name]-san, Grim-san, do keep your voice down. I’ve got a deal much better than our last offer. Hear me out, now would you?” Azul spoke, suave and sleazy as ever.

“No, cut it out already! Just accept I won’t-!” Her complaints were interrupted by the octomer’s firm statement.

“One meal!” After noticing he had their attention, the dorm leader continued, “One free meal for the two of you each day, along with some Madol… All for [Name]-san’s intimidation services and Grim-san cleaning dishes.”

“Make it TWO meals and it’s a deal!” Grim quickfired.

“NO! No, no!” The [color] eyed refuted. She leaned close to Ashengrotto over the desk, eyes narrow and eyebrows furrowed, “...Make it two free meals AND drinks daily, with a nice pay… and throw in some deluxe tuna cans from time to time…”

Grim perked up at that, eyes shifting from human to merman as they stared each other down to see who relented first.

Azul sighed, “Very well…” A gloved hand came forward, “Have we got a deal?”

[Eye color] looked into baby blue, before nodding and shaking his hand. “A deal it is, but” [Name] leaned even closer, right on the gray haired’s face, “Let it be known that just you fail once on giving the pay and it’s over, Ashengrotto.”

He snorted, “Oh, no need to worry about that, I always hold onto my end of the contract.” Taunting gaze mocked the [hair color], “The thing is, can you?”

“This damn Octavinelle people..!” [Name] felt fire light up her veins from anger and irritation at his words.

Scarabia

“Grim, look! We once more have a delicious cream cheese for you to enjoy with crackers!” The ever excitable Kalim exclaimed, reading a pair of crackers to feed Grim.

Before his hand could get any close to the scared cat’s face, [skin tone] hads grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Kalim, how many more times do I have to tell you?! Stop that!” An exasperated sigh followed her words. She let go of his arm.

Kalim (and pretty much all of Scarabia) looked at her. “No, not those big round cute ruby eyes…” The girl thought, feeling herself relent already. “Only for you… only for this ray of sunshine will I try to be less on the fence…”

[Name] cleared her throat, “W-Why don’t you… try asking Grim properly if he would like some first, instead of just shoving the food in his mouth!” An awkward giggle left her lips. “Was that better?! That did not sound better, at all! No!! It was harsh!”

Silence carried on afterwards, making her feel even more awkward and nervous of her actions. There’s a first time for everything.

“She’s right on that. You understand, don’t you, Kalim?” Jamil broke the silence, turning everyone’s eyes to him now. “As host, you should offer your visits amenities correctly, not force them upon them.” The dark haired boy remained focused on his plate of curry while he informed his dormmate.

“Oh! Of course, of course!” The dorm leader snapped out of his zoning out, “Apologies! Grim, would you like to try the cream cheese?” Kalim recovered his pep, bringing close the plate of cheese and crackers to Grim.

“Ah… No, thank you…” The monster declined. “However… I would like to try the dates you have over there.”

“Sure, no worries! Try as much food as you like! This banquet is for everyone to enjoy, after all!” Just like that, everyone’s spirits were lifted, and the party returned to its full swing.

From across the table, Jamil threw the [hair color] a smirk and a nod. She looked away with a faint blush on her cheeks.

Pomefiore

“She dares show her face here, dressed like that?”

“And with a stinky, dirty raccoon hanging from her shoulder.”

“As always, these pretentious idiots…” [Name] tried to steel herself, taking deep breaths as she carried on towards the Pomefiore common room. Vil asked for her presence here for some idea he had in mind and wanted to carry on.

“Fuh-nyah, this place always smells like perfume… Has me sneezing all over, eugh.” Grim rubbed his nose to ease the itching.

The girl giggled lightly, petting her companion. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the smell in a few seconds.”

“Ah, Trickster [Name], Monsieur Hirsute! Bienvenue à Pomefiore!” Rook welcomed them, as colorful as ever.

“[N-Name]? You’ve been… summoned here, as well?” Epel seemed surprised to see his friends here.

Vil stood up from the throne, “And just in time you’re both here. Could’ve done with a few extra minutes of head start, but at least you’re here and didn't arrive late.” The elegant 3rd year went over to explain his idea to the 1st years.

However, as the dorm head explained, the comments continued…

“Seriously, can’t she take the hint she’s not wanted here?”

“As a girl, she should know to take better care for herself.”

“Alright that’s it.” The Ramshackle prefect took a very deep breath and interrupted Vil, “Yeah, uh, apologies for cutting you off, but let me take care of some matters.” Turning around, the [color] haired looked over at the group that kept saying unasked opinions.

“Hey, you pompous people with deliriums of grandiose!” At the start of her screaming, Vil and Rook braced for the worse while Epel drew a very big smirk.

Everyone kept their dignified faces, sure that their dorm leader and vice head would have their backs.

“I dress bad? I don’t take care of my skin, nails, lips, hair? Grim isn’t always smelling nice?”

“Hey! What with that, [Name]?!” “Shush, you…”

“Just because I’m a girl you dare assume what I should act like?!” She scoffed, “Well, let me see you survive in a world far different than your own, disoriented and with no means to go back, live on a tight budget along with your equally as disoriented monster friend, with the only clothes you own being very mistreated and old uniforms students left in a rundown dorm!”

Everyone looked at her and murmured.

One of the students spoke up, practically laughing at her face, “What? Want us to feel pity for you? Sounds to me like you’re not trying hard enough.”

Grim himself was ready to burn this scum to a crisp, but thankfully, someone else stepped in to defend their friends.

“Oh? Like you’ve clearly not been doing?” Vil glared at the boy harshly. “Don’t think just because you’re good looking you have an immediate pass to be a student of Pomefiore, of NRC. Your grades are lacking, and for someone in this dorm to be that terrible in alchemy is ruinous. Seriously, an F in potion making? You strive to be as resourceful and tenacious as the Beautiful Queen by not being able to brew even a simple potion?”

The mob cowered back, shocked at their dorm head speaking that way to them.

“Doesn’t feel good to have yer flaws n’ failures spoken of, eh?” Epel yelled from a few miles back. He could see Schoenheit stiffen at the use of his distinct accent, but the farmer boy could care less in this moment… and so did Vil.

Rook stepped over with a friendly smile, placing a hand on the student's shoulder and on Vil’s. “Please rest the case, lest we want our hearts and faces wrinkle up from anger and stress.” The hunter squeezed the boy’s shoulder, applying pressure on one of the nerves to get the message across. In case that was not enough, narrow green eyes spared him a side glance full of ill-intent, “Any more comments like that, and your heart will be carved out of your rib cage and go in a jewelry chest to display as a trophy.” Was his message.

“Y-Yes, Rook-senpai!” The mob immediately answered and made their way out to somewhere else.

The actor rubbed the bridge of his nose at the scene, “I apologize on behalf of my dorm, those types of comments are absolutely not tolerated, but there seem to be more potatoes to wrangle than what I imagined.” He sighed, “But anyways! Let us continue with our original plans. [Name], Grim, Epel, follow me. We shall start with having you all take a nice bath and do proper skincare...and furcare, I suppose.”

“Oh, I would very much like some hypermosturizing serums and a bathbomb or oils to help destress, please!” The [hair color] said.

Vil chuckled a bit, “After that, you need all the lavender oils in the water.”

“Wait, does that mean…?!” Epel became unsettled and looked at Grim.

The monster finished the lilac haired boy’s thought, “We’re gonna end up smelling like a potpourri or somethin’?!”

Rook came behind them, pushing them lightly forward to walk in the other two’s direction. “Come now, moniseurs! Bath time is a great time to spend relaxing and planning your activities for the day!”

The rowdy duo only groaned at his words.

Ignihyde

“Oh, [Name] [Surname]-san, that was an amazing play!” Ortho congratulated while spectating the game going on between you and his brother.

The girl chuckled, “Thanks, Ortho… Did that specifically to show your brother not to underestimate a magicless human’s abilities in games such as this.” Sizzling could be heard coming from the older Shroud as he silently fumed, but his flaming hair betrayed his silence.

“That’s right, get mad and lose your temper. It’ll be easier to defeat you like that… defeat you once more.” [Color] lips turned into a mocking smile. “Talk shit, get hit, bruh!”

Idia desperately played his following moves, a supposed combo to take you down considerably. “I don’t believe you’ll keep that smile in your face for long.”

She chuckled, ominously now, “Ohoho, I believe I will be keeping this smile… and victory with me~!” The 1st year kept laughing as she played her last strategy, leading to his defeat for the 6th? 10th? time today.

The dorm head took a deep breath before he could yell his frustration out, hair turning a shade of dull red, telling the other occupants of the room of his temper.

“How’s that for underestimating the skills of a human, Idia? Tired or eating your dirt yet or not? Told ya this would only lead to absolute defeat-!” Before [Surname] could boast some more, Idia stood up and dropped himself on his bed, back turned to them all.

The robot boy floated over to the enraged 3rd year. “Big brother? Your vitals are erratic, heartbeat is quick and body temperature is on the raise. Would you like some help relaxing?”

“I believe it’s better to let him be, Ortho.” The girl reassured. “Wanna play a game with me? See if you can beat me?” She suggested.

The android quickly cheered up, “I would love to!”

- Few minutes later -

[Color] eyes stared at victorious play.

5 times… It had only been 30 minutes and already 5 times… She was beaten by the younger Shroud 5 times already!

Ortho smiles at her (or at least she assumed, with him keeping his mouth coveron). “This is entertaining, [Name] [Surname]-san! Can we play one more time?” Those innocent yellow eyes looked up at her tired, irritated ones.

“I- uuuh… S-Sure, Ortho..!” A strained smile stretched her lips.

Idia sat down somewhere near, teasing pointy smile on his face now. “How does it feel, [Surname]?”

“Shut the hell up, Shroud, you’re no one to speak like that.” The girl whispered through gritted teeth.

Diasomia

Blah, blah, blah… chatter, chatter, chatter…Loud booming voice annoying everyone around.

“Alright, damn it all!” [Name] slammed her hand on the table. “For the love of all that's holy, shut the hell up, Sebek!!”

Everyone was stunned for a moment at the outburst, Silver jumped awake at the shouting.

Sebek looked at her with the most indignant look, “Excuse you?! That is something extremely rude to say! Even more so because you interrupted my conversation with the Young Master!”

“What do you even mean?! You interrupted my conversation with Malleus in an even more impolite way first!” She reminded her fellow 1st year.

Zigvolt scoffed, “Only because you don’t possibly have anything of interest to speak with Master Malleus.”

“Sebek I swear to god!”

“Silence, human! Stop pestering us!”

“You are the one doing the pestering here!”

And just like that, both students began bickering.

Silver looked at Lilia, “Don’t you think we should do something about this?”

The old fae sighed into his tea cup, placing it back down before taking a sip. “We absolutely must, Sebek’s voice was already inflicting a headache, now we have... that…” Red eyes looked at the brash underclassmen arguing.

Malleus, meanwhile, rubbed his temples at their antics.

“Children, stop it now or else-” Vanrouge noticed how his words were going unnoticed, so he decided to raise his voice some. “Children-” More shouting, silencing his call for attention.

“Children!” Lilia’s voice boomed around the room, along with the stomping of his heel on the stone floor. The surround sound effectively made the misbehaving students shut up.

“Thank you.” He said with a closed eyes smile, “Now, to settle your senseless screaming, why don’t we try asking Malleus himself what he believes happened, hm?” The bat suggested, turning to look into lime eyes to urge his master to speak up.

“Oh..! Hmm… Well… It is true Sebek interrupted the conversation I was having with the child of man,” [Name] looked at her friend with an I-told-you-so smile, “And I disagree with him, [Surname] was telling me very interesting things about her life and experiences in this Wonderland.” That made the girl stand even prouder.

“However,” The pistachio haired male looked at his superior with hope in his eyes, “I agree with his comment on how interrupting conversations the way [Surname] did is very rude.” Now it was his turn to boast a little. “But let’s not forget he interrupted us first, and therefore is rude himself.” Sebek deflated at that.

Lilia clapped his hands with a bright smile, “Problem solved! Now,” The fae looked at the tall 1st year, “Sebek, dear, [Name] is our guest today, treat her with respect. She is Malleus’ specially invited guest, let her spend her time occupying our leader’s time as she pleases. He invited her for that reason, after all.”

“U-Understood, Lilia-sama…” Zigvolt agreed against his will.

“Thank you, Lilia!” [Name] thanked at the same time Sebek spoke.

“Very well, let us enjoy our tea time in peace now.” Finally, the youthful soul sat down and picked up his cup to take a much needed sip of the amber liquid. “Young ones these days, I swear...”

NRC Staff

Shouting and yelling resounded around the meeting hall, leading Mozus to rub the bridge of his nose to try and ease the oncoming headache.

“Hello-!” Vargas was cut off.

“Not now, Professor Vargas, I need to knock some sense into this crow!” The 1st year yelled at the muscular P.E. teacher.

He sat down near Trein with a sigh, “They’re at it again this week?”

“Yes, they are…” The old man grunted.

“Been at it for 20 minutes now, can’t believe it.” Crewel tapped his finger on the wooden table in irritation, “Headmaster Crowley should already relent and give her more allowance if it means we can get our meetings done!”

“Absolutely not,” Trein disagreed, “[Surname] should learn to handle her finances better, budget things appropriately and spend the least on useless things.”

Crewel let out a single mocking laugh, “Really now? Have you heard what biweekly amount of money he gives her?! It’s not even enough to buy a steady supply of meals from the shop for a week!”

Soon enough, the two teachers joined their respective sides in the battle of Crowley vs. [Name], while Vargas watched with the most uncomfortable look.

And, after a good more minutes of shouting, the last call was given…

“You know what?! I’m done!!” The [color] haired girl made her way to the exit, “It’s always “Because I am so kind” blah blah blah! But you never do anything to help me!” She made a bad impression of the Director on purpose.

“It’s not only me in the dorm, it’s also Grim! And he’s a sizable cat, he needs to eat properly and plenty, too!” She turned around before leaving, “Seriously, Headmaster, I don’t know anymore how to scream at you that we need help! We’re sleeping on dirt every night, we’re breathing mold and dust everyday inside the rundown dorm! We need food and clothes and bedsheets and hygiene products!”

[Name] had to take a deep breath before saying her last words, “If you’re not going to help me search for a way back home, then… at least help me make that crumbling building feel like home…” With that, the heavy door shut close.

The young girl quickly made her way out of the building, trying her best to keep her emotions at bay and not let them overflow. Out of habit, or maybe it was her consciousness trying to search for comfort, her feet carried her to Mr.S’s Mystery Shop.

The simple ringing of the bell signaling a new customer already made her feel better.

“Welcome, little devil! What can I help you with today?” Sam greeted with his typical energy.

The [hair color] sighed in relief, making her way to the counter. “Hello, Sam.”

“Aaah, another fruitless fight with the Headmaster?” The shopkeep inquired, identifying that tired tone in her voice.

“Indeed…” She let head lay upon her crossed arms as the rest of her body leaned on the counter. “I ask myself why I even keep trying it, nothing will ever change…”

A shadow friend pat her head to try and comfort her.

“Because you’re perseverant and a fighter, and wish to have a school life as nice as the one your friends in established dorms live. It’s not an unjustified fight.” The mysterious clerk said, full confidence in his words.

“You believe so?” Curious [color] eyes looked at his moving figure.

“Of course! Everyone else has a nice room to sleep in, why shouldn’t you? Besides, the Headmaster decided to take you in, a responsibility he can’t ignore.” He placed a small mug in front of your head, “Go ahead, take a drink, it’ll help you in more ways than you can think of.”

Carefully unwinding from her position, a hand took the mug and brought it under her nose. One sniff and the girl could tell this was [fav. drink]. “Sam, I’m-! How did- How did you know this is my favorite?!” A pleasant surprise that brought a smile to her lips.

“You always buy it, guess you must really like it.” Magenta eyes watched as she took a sip, “Comfort food and drinks are perfect after an upsetting experience.”

[Name] threw him a tender smile, “Thank you, Sam. All you do for me and Grim is very appreciated… Don’t think I don’t notice those special discounts.”

All he did was wink at her as he turned to welcome a new customer.

Royal Sword Academy

Helping put up a stage was not an easy task. Could anyone really blame her for being so mad at everyone who got in her way after being overworked like that?

Who knows how many times she yelled at people to hurry up and move away from her path already.

And it just so happened a playful cat decided to scare the soul out of the 1st year at the worst moment, just as she was trying to take a short power nap.

“Found mew (pronounce it as m-you-w pls)!” A floating head and apparently dismembered arms appeared before [Name], hands falling on her shoulders.

She screamed bloody hell at the boy, “WHAT THE F-CK, CHE’NYA?!?!” A coughing fit followed due to the sudden loud yelp, “That was,” Cough, “My heart I just spat out!”

Meanwhile, the RSA student laughed his head off at the startled girl.

It irritated her, “And what do you think you’re doing laughing like that?! I could’ve tore a vocal cord or actually have a heart attack, you dumb cat!”

Oh… Never in his life had he been called that, at least not that he remembered.

They remained in silence for a while.

Eventually, Alchemi giggled once more “Aha~, nice to see you’re mad too! Told nya it was the norm here~”

The [hair color] nodded in mock agreement, “Yeah, can finally see all of you are damn BONKERS!”

~°~ ~°~

This boy… what is his problem?! Suddenly approaching a stranger all smiles and good vibes? [Name] knew this was a twisted world, but this was plain creepy…

So, of course, the fight or flight instinct kicked off.

Yanking her hands out of his hold, [color] orbs sharpened to the meanest glare she could muster right then and there. “What do you think you’re doing? I am not a princess, and I definitely am not your princess! That’s way too creepy to tell someone you’ve just crossed eyes with.”

A multitude of gasps was heard. “Ah, that’s right, he has tiny friends with him…” [Name] could only inwardly sigh and groan.

Neige himself gasped too, what a rude person!

A little giggle was heard, “That’s exactly what I wanted to tell him.” Grant whispered, amused by the whole scene.

“Alright, okay, uh… Gotta go now. Pleasure, or not, to meet you. Goodbye.” The NRC student walked past the strange students. “And I thought there was nothing crazier than NRC… B O I was I wrong…”

The dwarves looked at their stunned friend.

Dominic tugged at his pant leg, “Neige, are you alright? Just let her be, I’m sure she reacted like that due to being cautious about strangers.”

“Yes, I’m fine…But,” Round chocolate eyes remained on her retreating form, “Nothing has ever stopped me from befriending even the grumpiest of people! Or has it, Grant?” The brunet smiled at his friend.

“I suppose not- Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” The redhead complained while the rest laughed merrily alongside LeBlanche.

-- -- --

THE MADWOMAN DID IT OMGGGGGGG MY EEEEEEYES ASDFGHIMKLF

HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY!!! What other way than to celebrate with LOOONG request including most, if not all, of the Twst characters!!

LET US SHARE MANY MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!! CHEERS TO US ALL!!!

(P.S. OMG if you see shifting between fem pronouns, they/them pronouns and "you" stuff... PLEASE FORGIVE ME!! My brain got a bit confused in a part! Hopefully I corrected it all)

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nahoyagf · 3 years

Note

toman / any tokyo revenger character(s) of choice with an s/o that was originally from a crueler gang, much more dangerous, a bit of trauma from it, and extremely cautious in gang territory? gun experience, martial arts experience (like krav maga maybe?) and the gang had tattoos for loyalty so s/o has lots of them on arms, back, chest.. looks very tough and hostile (which they are) but with close toman members and partner they're soft and tries their best to be gentle after so many years of being bad and hurting people.

sorry if its a very long request. you dont have to do it ive just been thinking about it for so long : )))

a/n: ahhhhh this is such a cool request, i had to write it as a whole fic i hope u don’t mind:) anyways tysm for requesting n following <3

yin and yang { mikey x reader }

warnings: mentions of violence, trauma, bad self talk, it’s fluffy tho i swear

mikey was the yin to your yang. while he was an odd and almost innocent looking person, he hid a much darker side. while you were the complete opposite.

your previous gang was ruthless. you served the purpose of protecting your leader and with that came the need to be brutal and violent. you can’t list the number of times you were forced to beat someone to a pulp for simply giving your boss a sly look. you still carry the weight of your old life with you. it can be the physical reminders such as the many tattoos that lay in your skin or the mental ones, when you get the urge to snap on an enemy or even a plain bystander.

ever since you left and joined toman, you tried to better yourself. you didn’t want to be that person you used to be, you wanted to feel in control and most of all, you didn’t want to be feared.

you efforts, often, went unnoticed by your new companions. except for mikey. he’s your other half. your yin. while others might only see the times when you do lose your temper, mikey sees the times you don’t, the times you stay calm and when you offer mercy.

in a way, you’re everything he wants to be. you’re tough and feared, yet you manage to be level headed and act only when necessary. not that he would ever tell you this of course.

another thing that stuck with you from your old gang was the feelings. the thick, suffocating worry. the chastising and harsh insults pounded into your head like a nail and a hammer. you remember the punishments for when you would make a mistake, it was not a simple slap on the wrist, it was a beating. maybe they’d stick your head into a bucket and only pull you up before the water fills your lungs. or maybe they’d put lighters to your skin and make you apologize over and over.

it’s instilled in your mind that you can’t make mistakes without proper punishment. of course, you’ve learned enough to know it should never be that severe but you can’t help but spew hateful words towards yourself when you so much as speak wrong.

this is another thing mikey notices. he hates it. truly. you get mad at yourself for things no one else even notices.

“it’s okay.”

that’s what he says. its okay.

it doesn’t feel like that. but after a while, when you do something wrong the image of mikey telling you that overweighs the desire to punish yourself.

mikey sees through you. he’s notices when you talk softer towards the members. when you try to get mitsuya’s little sisters to like you. when you do little nice favors like helping someone with their errands or complimenting someone randomly. you’re trying.

mikey always says that he loves your tattoos. they’re intricate and compliment your body.

“you look cool.”

if there was one thing that mikey said about you the most, it would be cool. he thinks how good you are with firearms and how advanced you are in different types of martial arts is cool. he thinks your tough exterior is cool.

however, his favorite thing about you is how soft you are with him. you often lay on the couch, eyes boring into the tv as some random movie plays. he loves to lay on you, head resting your chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. the first time, you were surprised and flustered but you eventually started to lightly pet his hair and smile the smallest, little smile.

you truly are his other half. his love. his soul. his yang.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro x reader #📁:general

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swimmingleo · 3 years

Text

Harry Styles and Two Loves - A love that dare not speak its name.

‼️Disclaimer I am in no way an English literature expert or student for that matter and can barely organize my thoughts but I’ll try my best. If something doesn’t make sense or is regretful thinking please tell me‼️

Basically Harry is a fervent reader that does not limit himself to Buk*wski and Mur*kami though for some reason he loves to bring up those dudes. Queer literature seems to play a big role when it comes to his inspiration and I love that about his music. A good example is his Shakesqueer Sweet Creature madness. But another one that I hold close to my heart are the parallels he draws with Alfred Douglas’ poem, Two Loves.

Here is the full poem. Give it a read if you can because I won't break it down verse by verse for this post sorry :(

To make it short, the poem is about the narrator (let's say Douglas) wandering in a garden where he meets a young man that turns out to be his lover. For context, Alfred Douglas was very much queer and in a romantic relationship with Oscar Wilde. Both developed their own coded language to express their love and ''sexual tendencies'' through their art (been this way foreverrr will we ever leaarn). However they were not always so sneaky about it and Two Loves in particular was so in your face that it was used against Wilde to prove his homosexuality in trial. He did get away with it this time. Here is his defense. Blueprint of denials. No iPhones at the time.

In Two Loves, two different personifications of love introduce themselves to Douglas and his lover:

The first love is loud and cheerful and sings about pretty women and men that love the said pretty women.

The second love is discreet, almost erased by the other’s presence but is beautiful and draws the attention of the narrator.

Obviously the first love is Heterosexuality, the one that is openly praised by society and the second is Homosexuality who is bullied into silence by Heterosexuality if he tries to speak. The poem ends with Homosexuality saying "I am the love that dare not speak its name." Yeah. And isn’t that the story of H’s career.

HS1 opens with MMITH which ends on "We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do". And from there follows SOTT, "We don’t speak enough". And right after we get the very loud, very explicit and very well documented Carolina. So far the album narration goes "There is something painful going on but we can’t talk about it, I say ‘we’ because there is a you and I and yeeEEAAH THIS GIRL I MET ONCE GETS A WHOLE SONG THE WORLD DESERVES TO KNOW HOW GOOD SHE FEELS FOR A LADDY LAD LIKE ME ALSO HER NAME IS TOWNES YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF SEE IF SHES REAL I LOVE REAL WOMEN AS IN WOMEN THAT EXIST". Heterosexuality is loud and sings about pretty women right.

But then, THEN we get Two Ghosts. Which is the center piece of this whole post. I mean, the title... Two Ghosts//Two Loves Two hearts in one home ? Sick.

The parallel that hits the most is the physical description that is made of Douglas’ lover and of Homosexuality (which are technically two different characters in the poem).

Douglas’ lover / Homosexuality

Same lips red / Same eyes blue / Same white shirt

Red were his lips / His lips were red / His eyes were clear as crystal / His large eyes were strange with wondrous brightness / White as the snow / His cheeks were wan and white

In Douglas’ poem, it is meant to be understood that the young boy he meets first, his lover, is related to Homosexuality through their physical appearance. Douglas’ love is therefore inherently queer. With Two Ghosts, I’ve always wondered why Harry chose specifically to point out a white shirt as it comes across a bit generic and not really personal yk? But if you compare it to Two Loves, it checks out the recurrent descriptive color scheme: red, blue and white. In both works, red are the lips, blue are the eyes, and white is the ~envelopp. RIGHT. I suppose Harry didn’t feel like describing his lover with pale white skin since it’s brown with lemon over ice when under summer skies so he went with a plain white shirt instead.

I’m not going through a whole analysis of Two Ghosts yet I can safely say that it deals with unspoken words. Not saying things is a recurrent theme in H’s songwriting but within the album, Two Ghosts is the first song that deals with it through the undeniable prism of romantic love. Right before with Carolina, H had no issue being straightforward and wanted to "scream and shout it out", but with Two Ghosts he’s tongue tied and doesn’t say what he really means. Communication issues go on with the following track Sweet Creature, btw may I just:

But oh, Sweet Creature (!), Sweet Creature

Would he […] cry "O sweet creature!", Othello

I cried "Sweet youth…, Two Loves

Queer Literaturry is going wild(e).

Expanding this post with Sweet Creature allows me to speak about the garden metaphor. In lyric poetry, the expression of emotions is often done through nature. It is a process that Harry seems pretty fond of when singing about love (ie Olivia, Adore You, WS, Canyon Moon and Sunflower are good examples) but it’s way more subtle with TG and SC. In Two Ghosts, nature is the moon, and in Sweet Creature it’s the garden.

Would you look at that, Two Loves happens to combine both:

Moon dances over your good side and this was all we used to need, Two Ghosts

Running through the garden oh where nothing bothered us, Sweet Creature

Flowers that were stained with moonlight / Alone in this fair garden, till he came unasked by night, Two Loves

For Harry, the night is where the moon enhances his lover’s beauty, when it’s just the two of them and they need nothing more than each other. The garden is where they run (free?away?), once again alone, unbothered. For Douglas, Homosexuality took form and began to occupy the garden at night, while Heterosexuality who thrives in the golden light (um I- nvm) wasn’t paying attention.

It is also interesting to note that Homosexuality is associated with the night but also with death. And he’s super pale. So like… A ghost ? ANYWAY.

The garden in Two Loves is where love happens, it is a piece of heaven. It’s elevated on a hill and untamed with flowers of various colors growing everywhere. There is sunshine and moonlight, there are "pools that dreamed" and by pools I assume the author means vernal pools which are habitats where flowers grow and oh look over there:

Nice ruffles on that white shirt by the way. Very Victorian.

Two Ghosts, 2017 Mularry so true

So yeah. I don’t want to go into full analysis mode but I find it all interesting. Once again, Two Loves holds a great significance regarding the Oscar Wilde’s lore, and Harry is probably very familiar with anything Wilde related (don’t even start) and by that I think about the Carnation business.

I’ll just conclude with that quote from Maurice by E.M Forster whom I love very much:

"I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort."

#song analysis #idk if it has been widely discussed already #ive done a bit of research and i haven't found anything but if you've seen similar posts dont hesitate to pass me the links #anyway first try at this kind of rambling i hope it's ok eek #but really I love this parallel or at least the idea i make of it lol #harry styles #two ghosts #queer inspo #my analysis

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Imitation

Commission for @beany-goes-dark I hope you like it, bby!

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, referenced unnamed character death, mindbreak, implied abuse, forced pregnancy, breeding kink (kinda?), unhealthy relationships

He calls you kitten, mostly. Sometimes sweetheart. You don’t mind the pet names, especially when he says them so affectionately, with that lazy, indulgent smirk of his. It’s the other name that bothers you, the one that slips out in the heat of him fucking you, the one he whispers in the early hours before dawn when he thinks you’re fast asleep.

Her name.

It’s soft and pretty, spoken with a reverence that belongs in holy places, edged with a bitter wistfulness that makes something small inside of you shatter into a thousand pieces every time you hear it.

There are pictures of her; on his desk, lining the walls. One time when he let you sleep in his bed you found one lying under your pillow - hers at one point, you guess. The photo couldn’t have been more than a few years old, but it was worn, the edges crinkled and the image a little faded. You wonder how many nights he’s wasted lying in bed staring at it, fingers slowly tracing the lines of her face.

You wonder whether he pulls it out after he’s finished with you for the night, like he’s returning to her when all is said and done.

She’s beautiful. Even with tears in her eyes, the smile on her frozen face strained and unnatural, she’s gorgeous. You suppose it’s not hard to see why he fell for her in the first place.

And you can see why he chose you. She’s prettier than you by far, there’s no denying that, but your hair is similar, and there’s something in the shape of her face, the colour of your eyes. You might not be identical, but it’s more than just a passing resemblance.

And under the dim, flickering lights of his basement, you suppose it’s good enough.

Good enough means you get to eat. Not stale bread and plain rice spaced too far apart, but home cooked meals. Bowls of soup and curries, fresh fruit and warm drinks, once he even brought you dessert - chocolate dipped strawberries. Her favourite. He’d smiled as he fed them to you, hazel eyes darkening as you obediently licked and sucked the sweet, red juice from the fingers he slid between your lips.

Such a good girl for him.

Good girls get rewarded. A soft mattress. Blankets. Pretty clothes. Kuroo likes to spoil you when you play along. He’s nicer, too. You get kisses instead of punishments, and sometimes when he’s finished taking what he needs, he’ll stay - strong, muscular arms curled around your waist, your head tucked against his shoulder as he strokes your hair and hums an unfamiliar tune.

You can almost pretend there’s not a chain locked around your ankle when he kisses you and tells you how much he loves you. How badly he needs you.

Not you. Never you. You’ll never be her.

And it’s cruel, you think in the dead of the night when sleep is just out of reach, the way Kuroo treats you. Not the punishments or the icy indifference and isolation he subjects you to when you’re anything less than perfect, but the way he toys with you.

For as much as he wants you to be her, Kuroo never fails to remind you that you’re not.

Your voice isn’t hers, you say and do the wrong things - you can’t love him like she did. And when he’s reminded of that, your adoring captor turns cold. He becomes unloving. Distant.

Irritated.

Sometimes you catch him staring, those dark eyes flickering intently across your face, and you know that it’s not you he’s seeing - only to watch as they harden, all the softness and love leaching from hazel depths as the illusion fades.

There were others before you.

You don’t know how many, or what happened to them, but the day Kuroo brought home a friend, and apathetic, cat-like eyes appraise you, your suspicions were all but confirmed.

“Another one, Kuroo?” he scoffs, barely sparing you another glance.

Your captor ignores the comment entirely, and a moment later you’re tugged into his lap to be played with and fussed over as the two old friends catch up.

Kenma doesn’t visit often and rarely without Kuroo, but on the days Kuroo decides you’ve been good enough to roam the house freely, sometimes you catch him slipping in and out. He doesn’t pay you any mind, and why would he?

You’re just the latest plaything. A temporary pet.

Until the day you finally gather the courage to speak, clinging to the corner of the living room wall, barely peeking your head out.

“What happened to her?”

It’s obvious who you’re referring to.

And maybe it’s the fresh bruises that mar your pretty skin, or maybe he just doesn’t care to keep Kuroo’s secrets anymore, because he lets out a quiet sigh.

“She died.”

You flinch at his bluntness, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. The disdain on Kenma’s face is almost enough for you to tuck tail and run, and pray that he doesn’t tell Kuroo that you’ve been misbehaving, but as he turns to leave, you realise that if you don’t ask now, you might never get another chance, and you have to know.

“Did he kill her?”

He falters, just for a second.

“No,” he says. Slowly, he turns - not to face you, but to stare at a photograph sitting by the coffee table; Kuroo, with his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressed to her cheek in a loving kiss. If you ignore the clear discomfort on her face, the tears glistening in her eyes, it makes for a cute picture. You loathe the very sight of it. “She got pregnant and went into labour too early. He wouldn’t take her to the hospital, didn’t want to risk it, I guess.” He shrugs, but when he glances back at you there’s an uncharacteristic hardness to his features. “They didn’t make it.”

Nausea twists at your gut, and for one single moment, your heart breaks for her. For him. You’ve never really believed in soulmates or true love, but you have to wonder if that’s what she was to Kuroo. The be all, end all.

She must have been, for him to still be trying to keep her alive years later.

As if he can read the thoughts racing through your mind, golden eyes narrow into a withering scowl. “You’ll never come close to replacing her.”

It’s more than apathy, you realise. He hates you - well, not you specifically, but whatever you represent. He might not say anything to Kuroo, at least not within your earshot, but it’s clear that Kenma couldn’t care less whether you lived or died at the hands of his friend.

He turns to leave then, apparently done with the conversation, but you can’t stop the words that tumble from your lips. “How many?”

Kenma doesn’t acknowledge that he even heard the question, at least not until he reaches the front door. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet that you barely catch it at all. “You’re the fourth.”

In the beginning, it was a method of survival. It was obvious that Kuroo was bigger than you, stronger too. When he told you that you were his, when he called you by her name, you didn’t argue. You played your role - it was better, wasn’t it, to feed into the delusion than to make him mad by trying to break it?

But it’s been months now. Nobody is coming for you, nobody but him cares what happens to you anymore. You’re no closer to figuring out a way to escape, and you’re terrified that if you try and he catches you, you’ll end up like the others.

Kuroo… can be nice. Loving, even. He’s handsome and he takes care of you, when you’re good. He doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain, he doesn’t hurt you unless you deserve it. You need him - he’s the one who feeds you, who gives you clothes to wear, shelters you. If he decides tomorrow that you’re not good enough, what’s to stop him from ending it right then and there?

It’s not like you could fight him off, months locked in his basement have robbed you of what little physical strength you had left. It’s not like anybody else could stop him, or would even care to.

You’d die, and just like the other’s before you, you’d be forgotten, nothing but a pale imitation that quickly wore out its usefulness.

He might never love you like he loved her. And Kenma’s right, you won’t ever be able to replace her, but maybe… maybe if you give him what he wants, what he lost, he could find a way to love you for you.

You can give him the baby he wants.

Hours later, when the front door unlocks and Kuroo walks in, he barely has a chance to drop his bag and kick off his shoes before you’re bouncing towards him. Strong arms catch you when you leap, securing you against his chest as your legs wrap around his hips, “Did you miss me that much, kitten?” he asks with a grin, walking the both of you inside.

“I love you,” you breathlessly answer instead, reaching up to tangle a hand in raven locks and draw him down into a desperate, needy kiss before he has a chance to reply.

It’ll be enough.

It has to be.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #tw stockholm syndrome #tw kidnapping #tw abuse #tw pregnancy #tw breeding kink #tw mindbreak #tw character death

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

what happens at night | taeyong

title: what happens at night

characters: vampire!taeyong, reader, BP jisoo, side character ocs

genre: vampire!au, fantasy, angst

summary: There has been a vampire sighting in a nearby town. You and a few other amateur vampire hunters flock to the area for fun, but are soon in over your heads when you come face to face with a real vampire.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some violence, use of weapons, mentions of blood and blood drinking, cursing

a/n: i got the prompt for this fic from this writing prompt post

writing vampire fic just reveals that i am maybe a little too intrigued with finding different ways to describe blood, lmao

also, this picture...are you fuckin kidding me

"Y/N, look. You aren’t gonna believe this.”

Adrienne holds the digital ledger out in front of you, and you look at it with tired, uninterested eyes until your brain registers what you’re seeing. Your eyes light up as you recognize whose face is on the screen.

“Taeyong.”

You take the ledger from her as she offers it to you, holding it tight with both hands.

“The Vampire King?” Jisoo perks up and gets up from her seat to rush over to see the ledger, peering wildly over your shoulder. Likewise, Percy makes his way over to the rest of you at a slightly speedier gait than his usual unaffected amble.

“Can’t be,” he says, shaking his head in quiet disbelief even as he looks over your other shoulder.

“But it is.”

The ledger’s screen displays the seal of Hawthorn Academy and its vampire registry, which holds the name, age, suspected location, and family lineage of every registered vampire in the world, along with a plethora of other pertinent details. On Taeyong’s profile, there is the familiar portrait of him you’ve always seen—his hair styled perfectly and curling over his forehead, and his eyes dark, piercing, and shining vermillion.

Under the list of Status Updates, there is a new entry from yesterday—a sighting nearby in the city of Dresden. Within that entry, there is a blurry, zoomed-in photo of a man in a dark trench coat and black boots, walking away from the viewer and down a shadowy street lit up with lampposts, almost too vague to be worth deciphering to the average viewer; but that silhouette is unmistakable.

“When was the last time Taeyong was seen out in public? I can hardly believe it,” Jisoo says, her voice practically trembling with awe.

“If he’s letting himself be seen, he must have specific intentions...whatever those are,” Percy notes.

“Let’s go pay Dresden a visit,” Adrienne announces, darting off to her desk and starting to gather up her essentials—phone and silver staff among them.

“Go? Pay it a visit?” Percy echoes, his mouth rounding on the word go and his eyes widening.

“Of course! Why not? Isn’t this exciting? A sighting of the Vampire King so nearby, and so recently,” Jisoo replies, grinning with all her teeth.

Percy narrows his eyes at her, uncertainty marring his features. “Yes, but what about dangerous?”

“Come on Percy, it’ll be fun,” you chime in. “Think of it as a field trip for baby vampire hunters. Dresden is huge, anyway, there’s like zero chance we’ll actually find him.”

“Just take it as more skills training,” Adrienne adds, grabbing her backpack and heading off to her quarters to get the rest of her things. “Except this time, we’re actually in the field instead of that same boring facility.”

Percy grumbles to himself, but he knows there’s nothing much left to argue about; when the three of you outvote him on a topic, he has no choice left.

By the time the four of you arrive at Dresden, it’s dusk. The perfect witching hour for the vampires to be out, with the last bleeding streaks of the sun fading out of the sky. The lack of sunlight unnerves Percy even more—you can tell by his disturbed countenance—but he says nothing. He quietly follows you out of the train once it stops.

On the outside, you all look like four regular sight-seeing young adults, taking a trip from the next city over and ready for a night on the town; but most of your weapons and gear are concealed within your clothes and the backpacks you wear.

“There’s a slight blood scent here,” you note, taking in a deep lungful of air once you notice it. Indeed, there is the lingering hint of sweetness and iron, and something more musky and earthy underneath it—like decaying organic matter. The smell every vampire hunter is trained to be able to recognize—the odor of a vampire who hasn’t taken their scent blockers.

“There is, though I’m just barely picking up on it,” Jisoo agrees, waving her hand across her nose and screwing her eyebrows up. “God, I’ll never get used to that.”

“Do you think he’s been here?” Adrienne asks, leading the pack as you all walk through the train station.

“I would think a high-ranking, old-ass vamp would know better than to leave their funk trailing everywhere,” Percy disagrees. “Maybe it’s a younger one.”

“Maybe we could get an actual kill tonight, then. Our first,” Adrienne suggests, and though her tone is nonchalant, her expression betrays her enthusiasm.

You chuckle. “Wishful thinking, but maybe that would make the seniors stop treating us like children for once.”

Your group ends up bouncing from the train station to a pub and then to a nearby park, where a festival is being held. There’s bright lanterns, food, dancing, singing, and little kids running around galore, which makes you think these citizens either don’t know about the recent vampire sighting in their area or don’t care.

You all spend an hour mingling around and checking out the festival’s fun-filled offerings, chatting in low tones about the recent vampire appearance and trying to put your skills to the test to scout out any other vampires that might be hiding in plain sight within this mass of people.

“Hey!” Adrienne’s shout rings across the area, and you whip your head around in shock as you watch her take off running behind some teenage boy, maybe 12 or 13 at most, who has managed to nip the digital ledger from her belt and take off with it.

“What the fuck?” Percy barks, and you all shoot each other a wild, surprised look before you and him follow behind her.

“Guys, really? Don’t leave me here!” Jisoo calls out from behind you. “You don’t need three people just to get the ledger back!”

You and Percy round the alley corner that Adrienne disappeared behind and spot her farther up ahead, still hot on the boy’s trail and cursing him profusely. He’s a lot faster than he looks. Just before you can get a good look at him, he’s turning down another road with her behind him.

“Maybe we can cut him off. I’ll go down one of the connecting streets,” Percy suggests.

“Wait, what? Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“That ledger is too important to lose to some street urchin, and the seniors will never let us leave campus again if we come back without it. You go that way, I’ll be down here.” He’s ducking into an adjacent alley before you can even respond.

“Shit…” you sigh and shake your head before running down the road he indicated.

You unstrap your silver staff from a hidden section of your pants and extend it, just to be safe.

This land is not overly familiar to you, with you only having been to Dresden a couple times before. You carefully navigate your way through the maze of interconnecting streets, listening for Percy’s and Adrienne’s footfalls, which have become distinctive to you by now, and the sounds of Adrienne’s yelling. There are few people on the streets, most of them at the festival or in their homes, which makes it easier to navigate and watch for the others as you catch glimpses of them rushing past neighboring alleys.

Percy bursts into the same alleyway Adrienne is running down, finally trapping the boy between them on either end of the narrow passageway. However, the boy remains undeterred from Percy charging toward him as he deftly jumps up onto a nearby closed dumpster and uses it to launch himself over the older man.

“Shit!” Percy makes a mad grab for the end of the boy’s shirt, but the boy is a few seconds faster and narrowly gives him the slip.

“Are you serious? You can’t catch a damn kid?!” Adrienne shouts; Percy only curses again and whips around to follow the boy.

You hear the commotion from a few roads over, and you make a beeline for the area.

Just before you make it there, Adrienne screams. The sound almost startles you into dropping your staff, and you tighten your grip around it. “Adrienne?! What’s happened?”

You reach the alleyway, your shoes skidding on the ground as you nearly overshoot it, but Adrienne is nowhere in sight. You look around confused and alarmed with your chest heaving, but there is no trace of her — when she was there only seconds ago. “Adrienne?” Repeating her name still doesn’t bring her out, and you see nothing as you walk farther into the narrow back street and search every shadow and corner. Something dark and distressing settles in your stomach, and when you catch a whiff of that blood-decay smell on the night breeze, your unease turns into an avalanche of fear.

“Percy,” you whisper, and you take off again. “Percy!”

Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, nearly blocking out all other sounds, and your legs and arms burn as you run. You are abruptly stopped in your tracks as there is another shorter sound, like someone suddenly being cut off in the middle of a scream.

You desperately want to call out for him, and the syllables of his name crawl up your throat though you struggle to contain them. The blood-decay smell still inundates your senses, and whatever vampire is skulking around this maze of streets with you is likely still present somewhere. You don’t want to call any attention to yourself with a shout, though it may already be too late.

With a spiny chill driving itself down your back, you realize everything is suddenly silent. No insects, no night birds, no other people on the streets surrounding you.

Pushing the button on your staff ejects the silver blades from both ends, and you hold it for dear life as you stand in the middle of the dim alley, shivering despite your sweat and waiting for any hint that the monster is approaching you.

It happens so quickly that it’s almost outside of your perception.

The air around you grows significantly colder even with the existing chill from the early-winter season, and you shudder once more, your jaw clenching and molars chattering against each other. When you blink again, he is standing in front of you.

Taeyong.

Melting out of the shadows and becoming one with them all at the same time, a strange liminality similar to his existence—being alive and dead in the same time and space.

His mouth and chin are wet and red from blood, presumably that of your friends and teammates, which sends an intense ache through your stomach. The newness and excitement of the vampire sighting has drained out of you, replaced with stone cold dread. You’re not sure what any of you were thinking. Percy tried to warn you, but now he is likely dead for it.

Maybe it’s a foolish move. All your training has gone out the window in your panic and fear. You make a sloppy, sudden swipe at his front with the blade of your staff; and the next thing you know, it’s flying out of your hand and clattering feet away. Behind him, and out of reach.

It takes a second for you to realize he’s knocked it out of your hand without even touching it or you; his own hand is still raised with the movement of telekinetically shifting the object. “You came terribly unprepared. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more from you fledglings.”

Your sweaty palm slides against the other leg of your pants where a smaller silver dagger is concealed in a tearaway pocket, but that idea is useless. In the time it’d take to get any weapon out, he could kill you.

“The Academy has really been in decline the last few decades. This is the caliber of hunters they’re putting out now?” Taeyong sucks his teeth, and he takes a step closer to you. Your entire body is on high-alert, but you feel too stiff to move a muscle, and you vaguely wonder if this is somehow his doing, too. Only in the stillness of this moment do you realize that you cannot detect any of that blood scent coming directly from him, though the putridness of it still lingers in your nose. It’s coming from somewhere else, then. This confuses you more.

When he realizes you aren’t going to speak, he stops approaching you and takes a moment to really study your face, his big and curious eyes blinking slowly. The redness of his irises and the shiny, pale quality of his skin from the moonlight shining on it make him look just as surreal as he truly is.

“You’re a pretty thing. Maybe I could make you one of mine.”

“Never,” you blurt out, and it’s the first thing you can bring yourself to say to the Vampire King.

“Oh, so you can speak.” Taeyong reaches for your chin. His fingers brush the underside of it, the coolness of his skin freezing you, before you snatch away from his touch, stumbling backwards. A flash of irritation sparks on his face.

His hand reaches for you again, this time clasping at the back of your neck, and it is impossible to move away quickly enough. “Don’t waste any more of your time fighting. This will all be over soon. Well—this life, anyway.”

His teeth in your neck are sharper than needles, making your nerves twinge with stabbing pain; and then it’s strangely pleasant, like having painkillers injected into your veins. You can’t feel anything anymore except warmth and endorphins and his fangs inside you as the alley around you smears into a bunch of incomprehensible shapes—bricks, streetlights, strewn trash, Taeyong.

When you wake up, you’re in an unfamiliar place. An unfamiliar bed. You startle out of unconsciousness sweating and frightened, but with barely enough strength to push yourself up on your elbows. Looking around doesn’t provide you with many more clues; this space is murky with darkness, and your vision is foggy. You think you can make out the rectangular shape of a large curtained window, but it’s unclear.

You’re still wearing your clothes from the trip, although your backpack is now gone. Your throat has never felt drier in your life, and the pounding in your head threatens to split it clean apart.

You feel sick and feverish, like your body is trying to fight against some virus it’s picked up, but you haven’t the slightest idea where you could’ve contracted anything—you didn’t even eat at the festival—until you remember—

A door opens with a bang somewhere in the distance, and it isn’t until the footsteps grow nearer and a blurry figure approaches the bed that you realize the door is the entrance of the room you're in.

“You’ll want to feed soon.” As soon as those words break the quiet, you’re struck by the pungent smell of blood. Unlike the relative lack of response it would elicit any other time, its aroma pokes at a sudden and peculiar craving inside of you, and you find yourself futilely scrabbling on the bed to reach the source. “Lucky you. I have just what you need.”

There is a cold hand tilting your face up, the press of equally cold glass against your bottom lip, then the tang of blood entering your mouth. It is the best thing you have ever tasted, and a slowly dying, still-human part of you is horrified.

You finish the blood quickly. It doesn’t really seem like enough, but it does make you feel a little less like you’re actively decomposing. Despite your hazy vision, there is no misreading the small smile on Taeyong’s face.

“Happy Birthday, little one.”

#taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong angst #nct vampire au #vampire au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #taeyong fic #nct angst #superm fic #superm scenarios #superm imagines #superm angst

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solomonish · 3 years

Text

You Burned So Brightly (Simeon x Reader)

Simeon has fallen, and he left his memories in the Realm that cast him down. They sent him straight back to you, but nothing is ever that easy.

ao3 link: here!

With a single, brilliant streak of light across the Devildom sky, the battles that were on the brink of becoming a second war came to a halt. Smoke curled up in the distance, light and airy like nothing you've ever seen before. The demons near the impact seemed to itch, the holy energy burning off into the air burning their skin. In the middle of a small crater, barely bigger in diameter than the fallen angel was in height, Simeon struggled to bring himself to his knees. As you stood before the impact site, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Lucifer near your side, you did your best to avoid cringing at Simeon's groans of pain.

Diavolo called for his attention, his authoritative voice only engaged for the sake of the surrounding, curious citizens. After a moment, Simeon forced his head up, clear blue eyes scanning the crowd. His eyes fell to you last, and though he held his gaze for a long time, recognition never flashed within him.

Simeon had fallen, and he left his memories in the Celestial Realm.

---

Barbatos led you to the room where Simeon was staying, informing you of any progress he and Diavolo had made and updating you on their search for a suitable place for him to live. Vaguely, you heard Barbatos ask if you agreed that a nice, cozy area on the outskirts of town would be nice, preferably something with enough yard space for a small garden. You hummed in agreement, and even though the both of you knew you had no say in the matter, Barbatos still gave you a displeased glance. He knew you weren't listening.

He stopped outside the door, hand faltering before the doorknob when you called out to him. Green eyes as impassive as always, he turned towards you fully and let his hand fall to his side. Before speaking, you glanced at his eyebrows and nearly sighed in relief to see his eyebrows weren't furrowed in the slightest. Despite the side-eyes and rather tense atmosphere, he wasn't truly mad at you.

Keeping your voice low, you asked, "Does he remember any of the exchange program?"

Barbatis kept his expression flat, but he did jut his chin just a hint, the closest thing you would get to a frown. "Bits and pieces. Nothing new."

"Why does he still only remember things in fragments?"

There was a pause. This was information you were permitted to know; but just because Barbatos was allowed to tell you did not mean he should. Still, you were notorious for snooping around and getting what you wanted anyway. "We believe he had too much sensitive information about the Celestial Realm, but the job was done in haste to bring the battles to a close."

"Oh." You didn't have any expectations set for his response, but you still felt a heavy stone, similar to disappointment, settle in your stomach. Perhaps dread was more appropriate - though anymore, your gut was always tied in knots and your emotions were just as jumbled. "Does it hurt him?"

"Physically? No," Barbatos answered, reaching for the doorknob again. You opened your mouth to ask for more details, but Barbatos gave you a look that said, clearly, you'll see. Shutting your mouth, you squared your shoulders and allowed him to open the door.

The room, grand yet somehow seeming plain for a palace's guest room, looked the same as it had all the times before. None of the chairs moved from their expertly-placed positions in the room, having been unoccupied for the entirety of Simeon's stay. Each book was nestled into its place in its case, and not a single gap ruined the uniform, brick-like image of the surrounding bookshelves. Even the bedsheets, still perfectly tucked beneath the mattress, looked unused, the only crinkles in the sheets coming from directly beneath the occupant.

Simeon sat in the middle of the bed, knees drawn to his chest and arms resting atop them. You could see his blue eyes surveying the room, a change from the past days but not exactly an improvement. The aura surrounding him was menacing, and if you strained your ears you could almost hear a low growl. Despite sitting in one spot for days like a scared animal, Simeon never felt more like a predator.

"Hello, Simeon," You said. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, but Barbatos' hand on your shoulder stopped you. When you turned to look at him, he was already shaking his head. This was as close to Simeon as you would be allowed to get.

"You're back," Simeon noted, his voice devoid of any fondness. It was still the same pitch as before, but it no longer sounded like a delicate tune carried on the warm summer breeze. Instead, it felt more like a warning shot, sharp and threatening yet drawing no blood. He sounded dangerous.

"I am. I was hoping you might remember something new, but...it seems that's not the case."

Simeon looked you up and down before scoffing. "What makes you think you're so memorable?"

Not wanting to anger him, you chuckled in response, hoping it didn't sound as awkward as it felt. Simeon's eyes never left your form, and you missed the way his pupils widened, almost like a cat's.

You could hear him murmur under his breath, "Perhaps I could recognize you by the way you taste…" It was a poor attempt at intimidation, but it was intimidation nonetheless. When you looked up at Simeon, his pupils were blown wide, making his eyes almost entirely black. Instinctively you stepped back, watching as Simeon unfolded himself for the first time in days.

Barbatos' grip on your shoulder tightened right as Simeon pounced, pushing you behind him as he chanted some spell you'd never heard before. Though the attack seemed to move in slow motion, he ushered you out all too quickly, slamming the door shut and locking it physically before casting another spell. Right as he finished speaking, something solid slammed against the door, and you could hear Simeon snarling on the other side.

"He's reconciling," Barbatos explained vaguely. "He's not used to craving human souls, or to the shifting energies inside him. Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come with me. We'll have to report what happened."

Though you didn't want to, you followed Barbatos again down the hall, this time taking care to trail a bit behind in your own petty act of defiance.

You knew, at least for a while, that you would not be seeing Simeon again.

---

When you were permitted to visit him again, you were relieved. Whatever rehabilitation efforts Diavolo and Barbatos were working on took longer than you thought, and days stretched into weeks until you were wondering if they were losing hope in his recovery as you were. Of course, the pair had more information than you did, but in a situation that seemed as dire as this, your worry was warranted.

The hallway you walked countless times before was the same as always, yet you found yourself surveying the walls. Barbatos was not relaying any information to you this time, which was strange; clearly, if you were allowed to see Simeon again, progress had been made and there was information to give. But you were eager to get in the room, so you didn’t waste time with questions that would be answered firsthand and allowed Barbatos to open the door for you anyway.

Stepping into the guest room, it finally looked more lived in than the last time. The desk on the opposite wall, surrounded by bookcases, had a few papers and pens scattered around it, something like an outline lying face-up in the middle. A few books had been removed from the shelves, their neighbors slumping over in the void they left. Simeon was in one of the plush armchairs in the room, a book in his hands with his eyebrows furrowed. His posture was slumped, nothing like the practiced perfection he had as an angel.

You took a few steps into the room, noticing how Simeon stiffened yet did not take his eyes away from the book in his hands. Barbatos stepped into the room, the door shutting with a click. He made no effort to be within arm’s reach of you, but you could still feel his protective presence over your shoulder.

Barbatos cleared his throat, and Simeon begrudgingly put his book down, eyes falling immediately to you. “Simeon, as I’m sure you can see, MC has arrived to see you again.”

Simeon looked blatantly unamused. “So you have,” He murmured, pushing on the arms of the chair to straighten his posture. You sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, eyeing the space between the two of you.

You could feel the lapse in his memories as if it was a palpable tension in the air. The way Simeon held you in his gaze, distrusting, wondering why a human was so interested in him and why you were not a welcome meal was enough to send shivers down your spine. Fighting the urge, you turned to take in the room, hoping for something interesting to comment on. “I see you’re outlining something. Could you have remembered something for the next installment of TSL?”

“Those books…” Simeon was eyeing the outline on the desk, but he trailed off and darted his eyes back to you distrustfully before he could continue. You felt something left unsaid, but had no idea what it could be.

“We’ve tried using them to jog his memory,” Barbatos explained. “It didn’t work.”

Though Simeon masterfully used clear inspirations from real life, such caricatures of the brothers and their lives must have been a difficult idea to unlearn. Briefly, you wondered if you had been made into a character in the series yet. Part of you hoped you weren’t. It would probably be better if you built your relationship with him from the ground up - no matter how long it may take or how painful it may be.

For once, Simeon appeared bashful, averting his gaze again. “I do remember some of the plot points, though,” he murmured. “I just don’t know what they mean.”

Before anybody could stop you, you reached out and placed a hand on Simeon’s knee. His body was cold like the brothers’, enough to seep through his clothes and draw your attention. You missed the comforting warmth he used to carry. You missed when he would look at you and you didn’t feel like he hated you, too.

“Maybe they don’t mean anything anymore,” You offered, ignoring Barbatos’ piercing stare. Whether he was warning you to keep your hand away or keep your thoughts to yourself, you didn’t know, but you didn’t pay attention to either warning. “Maybe now they’re just stories, and life gets to be something else.”

When you contacted Diavolo about seeing Simeon again, he warned you the meeting would not be long. Still, the way Barbatos ushered you out felt as though he were cutting your time short as punishment for potentially risking their endeavors to restore Simeon’s memories. Before he shut the door on you, you looked back to see Simeon staring at his knee, thinking over what you said. No lecture came from Baratos, but if it had, it wouldn’t have mattered.

From that day on, Simeon started venturing out of his room.

You heard from Lucifer one night, having pestered him after another night of returning home late from the castle, that Simeon had taken to wandering the halls by himself. He never took anything, never seemed to intend to cause problems, and instead took his time taking in every painting. Every time one of the staff members went to check on him and found his room empty, the entire castle went on lockdown, yet when Simeon was made aware of this he merely seemed amused. You asked why nobody was locking the door, and Lucifer gave you an exasperated expression. Like a pet rat, Simeon kept finding ways to unlock the door so he could roam. Perhaps that was why Barbatos seemed to be having such a hard time recently.

With his newfound desire to adapt - and the trust that, in the backwards fashion you came to expect from the Devildom, came from him being alone in the castle without ruining something, even if his escape was counterintuitive to building trust in him - Little Ds were used to tend to him when higher-ranking demons were busy. The only time somebody checked in on him was to evaluate his mental state and to safeguard your visits. Those, too, were slowly becoming less formal, and soon you were going to the castle and simply being pointed in the direction to his room, rather than being led.

You knocked on his door, unsurprised to hear silence on the other end. However, this was the first time it happened and you were alone. Though you were trusted and respected (among the nobility, anyway) in the Devildom, wandering aimlessly around the castle didn’t seem like the smartest idea. A small pattering of footsteps behind you caught your attention, and you turned to see a Little D standing behind you. His horns were curled like Satan’s, his eyes burning green as if a fire was lit behind them. You smiled at him, and he only tilted his head - as much as he could, anyway.

“Have you seen Simeon?” You asked him, hoping he’d be one of the easy-going ones. After studying you for a moment, the Little D only nodded. Talkative, no, but you were right on him being relaxed. Following his lead, you soon found yourself in one of the smaller sections of the castle garden. The Little D floated over the twisting roots and vines underfoot, sparing you no time to step over and around the obstacles. By the time you found him again, he was waiting impatiently at an opening between a line of small trees, leading to a courtyard with an overgrown fountain in the middle. He left in the middle of your breathless thanks, which you finished in a sigh.

Simeon heard and turned towards you, his attention pulled from one of the broken busts on a pedestal. “Hello. If I had known I’d have a visitor today, I would have waited for you.”

His greetings were slowly becoming more friendly, you noticed. Smiling at him, you made your way over to him, thankful for the worn stone beneath your feet instead of the purposeful overgrowth behind you. “What are you doing out here?”

Simeon shrugged. “I’ve grown tired of the same hallways and that room.”

“Not willing to explore different hallways? I hear they get pretty exciting in the east wing.”

He smirked at that. “Even I know not to venture there. I have no interest in pushing my luck.”

Turning back to the bust, you watched him grip his chin thoughtfully. You wondered if that was a trait of all wrath demons, considering their lord, or if it was merely an impulse based on him being well-read. In this moment, he looked startlingly like Satan, a fact that both calmed you and worried you. Satan was a good influence for him, sure - but the more he influenced Simeon, the less like himself Simeon would turn out to be.

“You’re thinking pretty loudly over there,” Simeon said, and for a moment, you thought you heard that gentleness that you were used to. “Would you like to share your thoughts?”

“I was just thinking about how Satan has been helping your transition,” You answered in an obvious half-truth. “Has he lent you any good books?”

“All of his recommendations seemed a bit on the nose for my situation,” Simeon answered bluntly. You laughed, short and unexpected. He smiled. “But I do appreciate the help.”

“Do you need the books in the same way he does?” You asked. Simeon stiffened slightly, the only indication that he was uncomfortable. But, for you, he didn’t deny you an answer.

“I don’t remember much about who I was before. I know how angels were supposed to be, but none of it feels like me. The only thing that feels like me is this wrath, but even then, it isn’t as strong as his, I’m sure.”

You had nothing to say to that, instead turning to examine the bust. The features were worn down, much like the rest of the details. Instead, it was a vague person-shape, the head misshapen from what used to be the hair and arms missing since the beginning. Beside, Simeon murmured under his breath, “Even though I’m reconstructing where he was constructing, I can’t help but feel we might end up more similar than either of us expect.”

Simmering just beneath his words, you thought you could hear just a tinge of...something. Regret? Sorrow? Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was falling into the same line of thinking you often found Satan grappling with, wondering if a personality crafted as a wall was hardly a personality at all. You would assure Simeon as often as you assured Satan if he needed it, but you also knew that this was different. Simeon had you around before he decided who to become, and you knew the person he used to be. If it was what he wanted, you could - you would - help him down a similar path.

But you knew better than to say so. Instead, you stared at the faceless bust before you and gave him the space to figure it out for himself.

---

The memories taken from Simeon were officially gone, Diavolo and Barbatos decided, at least gone enough that they could not reach them without risking Simeon’s wellbeing. Though there was now an extra layer of animosity between them, they still considered him a friend (if not a former one) and had no desire to hurt him. Besides, the battles were over. There was no need to send a message of power via an ex-angel the Celestial Realm no longer cared about. With no need to keep him close in the castle, and a hesitant trust in his adjustment to the Devildom, Diavolo offered him a modest home on the outskirts with a small yard, just like he was considering before. It was close to the castle, though not close enough that the wealthier inhabitants would cause a fuss about favoritism. Even though the exterior was dark, you were pleased to see it resembled a cottage more than its neighbors. Beside you, Satan commented about how charming and quaint it was - you agreed without really hearing him.

As Satan knocked on the door, you drummed your fingers nervously on the vase in your hands. Barbatos mentioned something about Simeon liking to garden, but did he even remember? You knew he wouldn’t remember the time he first encountered the plant in your hands. It was a type of Tiny Venus Flytrap, one that needed to feed constantly on a microorganism in the air. It was constantly opening and closing its leaves, and Simeon spent at least half an hour cooing over one when he first saw it. You remembered the melodious chuckle that kept ringing through the greenhouse, and a sudden twinge of pain struck through you when you realized he wouldn’t.

As if on cue, Simeon opened the door, looking perturbed at the interruption but softening when he saw you and Satan in the doorway. “Oh, I forgot you were coming over today,” He said, stepping aside to let the two of you in. Though you didn’t think Simeon would lie about such a thing, the cleanliness of the house and the tea brewing in the kitchen planted a small seed of doubt in your mind.

“We thought we’d offer you a few housewarming gifts,” Satan responded. The smile he gave was easy, expertly hiding how just minutes before he had nearly knocked down a wall in the House of Lamentation and was more than willing to use the trip as an excuse to escape his brothers. Simeon chuckled, no doubt catching a hint of the hidden meanings behind his words. At least his perceptiveness wasn’t affected by his fall.

“Oh? Gifts?”

“Yeah. Your bookshelves look bare, so I thought you’d like a headstart on your collection.”

“Thank you,” Simeon answered, reaching for the box in Satan’s hands. You watched his entire body crumple for a moment, unsuspecting of the weight in his hands. He recovered quickly, but not before huffing out, “Oh, there’s quite a lot in here, huh?”

Satan didn’t seem bothered by his breathlessness - if anything, he looked amused. You almost reached out to help, but remembered your own human strength wouldn’t do much. Plus, you still had a fragile vase in your hands. Simeon placed the box on the ground, opening the flaps and peering inside. He wasn’t able to hide the beginning of a frown when he saw copies of his own books on top, and quickly moved those out of the way. He seemed much more pleased with the other options.

“Thank you. I suppose I won’t have to spend a long time finding my own additions to these shelves,” Adding a good-natured chuckle to the end of his sentence, Simeon turned towards you. “What do you have there?”

“Oh! It’s a Tiny Venus Flytrap. You-” Stopping short, you glanced at the copies of TSL on the floor and cleared your throat. “You don’t have to feed it much. Just put it in a window that gets a lot of moonlight and water once during each waxing gibbous.”

Curiously, Simeon reached for the plant and cradled it in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over the glazed vase, the blue so dark it nearly looked like black ink. Tentatively, he put his finger on one of the leaves and let out a boyish giggle as it closed around him. You laughed too, pleased to see history repeating itself.

“This is absolutely darling, MC. Thank you,” He didn’t meet your eyes, still entranced by the movement of the leaves. When you looked at Satan, he was giving you a mischievous look. On the way to the house, you told him about your plan to try and jog Simeon’s memories, and he had been hesitant to say that your plan would work. If it didn’t, you certainly succeeded in testing to see if part of the old Simeon was still around.

The tea kettle whistled in the kitchen, and Simeon finally snapped his head up from his new pet plant. “I’ll put this little guy in the kitchen window, seeing as it gets the most moonlight,” He explained, scurrying over with the same dainty walk he had before. You watched him carefully as he adjusted his plant, giving it an affectionate pat before tending to the tea. As he pulled out a budget tea set you’ve definitely seen in the bargain shop before, you tried to hide the guilt on your face. Back at the House of Lamentation, in a box beneath your bed, was Simeon’s old set, still in pristine condition in its white and gold glory. You were glad you decided against bringing that as a gift - looking around at your dark surroundings, it didn’t seem like it would fit in.

You could hold on to your little memories for a while longer, you thought. Simeon didn’t seem to be making use of anything regarding his past anyway.

---

When Simeon opened the door after summoning you to his house, you weren’t expecting his new outfit.

Diavolo had him fitted in some black, plain clothes - something to cover him without drawing too much attention to him. However, now that he had enough time to get used to his surroundings and accept his new life as a demon, he also had enough time to craft a new look for himself.

You weren’t expecting that to include a dark, cool-colored, patterned button down, tucked into black pants with most of the buttons undone.

Nearly choking on your own spit the moment he opened the door, you allowed him to usher you in and rub your back hesitantly. After he thought you had collected yourself - and yes, at that point you stopped choking, but you were still reeling at the image of his chest (did some part of him really need to be exposed at all times?) - he asked, “Do you not like my clothes?”

His voice sounded just as devastatingly sad as a demon. “N-no, they’re fine! I just…” You began gesturing towards his exposed chest and even his midriff before getting embarrassed and dropping your hand. “I wasn’t expecting all that.”

“Oh, here,” Simeone buttoned up three buttons, which did absolutely nothing, and opened the back door to his small yard. “Thanks for agreeing to help me.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, eyes still on his chest as you walked outside.

The Devildom was known for its warm temperatures, and as you helped him prepare the dirt you quickly found your school shirt uncomfortable as it stuck to your skin. Before long, you slipped it off, thankful for the tank top you decided to wear beneath it, and got back to work. The two of you engaged in an easy conversation, but every so often you’d realize Simeon’s eyes stayed on you for a moment too long. Normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself some irresistible temptation, but he was new to being a demon. Any time he’d reach towards you to help you or borrow a tool, you had to fight the urge to flinch. By the time he offered you a break, you had nearly jumped out of your skin too many times to count.

Spent from the labor, you stayed on the grass while he went to get a drink, coming back with a large glass of water that you graciously accepted. As you drank, he watched you intently - or, more specifically, he watched your left shoulder.

“Uh, are you okay?” You asked cautiously. “You’ve been staring a lot.”

He looked genuinely surprised to have been caught. “Have I? I apologize.” His eyes ran over your pact marks where they peeked out from beneath your shirt before falling on your shoulder again. “What’s that scar?”

“Hm?” Glancing down at your shoulder, you could barely make out the shape of an eye scarred on your skin. Honestly, you hadn’t even noticed it before he brought it up. After all, the mark that had been there was purposely difficult to see when he made the vow of protection, so you hadn’t even noticed when it turned to scar tissue. Still, the thought saddened you, and you reach to cover it with your opposite hand. “Oh, that. You gave it to me.”

“I did?” His eyes widened, and he started to toy with one of the buttons attached to his shirt. “I’m- I’m so sorry, MC, I don’t remember-”

“No no no, it’s not like that. I didn’t mean-” He stood up abruptly, not allowing you to finish. His expression was dark, a cross between furious and devastated, and he turned to head back inside. You could imagine his footsteps searing the dry Devildom grass as he stalked away.

“Feel free to let yourself out. Thank you for your help.” He left you sitting in his yard, and you rubbed your scar aimlessly. Though it was just a phantom feeling, it seemed to throb in pain just from his reaction.

---

Simeon offered to walk you home after an RAD party after Diavolo asked all the brothers to stay back for student council business. After months of slowly building your relationship back up again, he was finally comfortable being around you, confident in his ability to reign in his wrath (or at least his speed so he could run far from you if he needed to.) He purposely shortened his strides, the walk taking a much longer time than it normally did. In his company, though, with his easy laughter and your banter, you didn’t mind one bit.

It wasn’t until you finally reached the gates to the house that he let his expression somber. “Hey, MC?” He asked tentatively, as if worried he was intruding. “I know you aren’t supposed to tell me much about my old life, but…” His eyes fell to your scar, which your outfit did nothing to hide.

“Simeon, it’s not like that. You didn’t carve it into me, or anything.”

“Then how did I scar you?”

You sighed. “It used to be an angelic pact. You would-” Did he know about his prophetic abilities as an angel? After clicking your tongue in thought, you corrected yourself. “You were just trying to protect me. We didn’t know this would happen.”

If Simeon cared about your hesitation and how obviously you were hiding information, he didn’t show it. Instead, he asked, “Did it hurt, then? When it turned from a promise into a wound?”

Yes, you wanted to say. Just minutes before you heard that he fell, you felt the pain in your shoulder, but you were too busy tending the wounds of others to really pay attention to the pain. You had forgotten about it until Simeon noticed the scar all that time ago, and ever since you had convinced yourself that it throbbed, wanting to turn back into the vow it could never be.

Instead, you smiled at him. “No. I forgot about it until you said something, remember?”

But your smile was too thin, and it betrayed you.

---

You were not supposed to be doing this. However, you had turned your phone off, so the brothers couldn’t talk you out of something so stupid.

You and Simeon hunkered down in the Botanical Gardens long after close, figuring it was a random enough spot that nobody would find you for a while. Hunkered between your favorite type of flytraps, you let Simeon ask you the questions he’s been dying to find answers for since he fell. Each question you answered, telling him about the exchange program and his roommates and all of the memories you held in your heart, safekeeping for the day you could give them back to him.

After all, the way Luke’s face crumpled when he realized that Simeon truly didn’t remember him was something you wanted to avoid seeing again altogether.

There were parts you didn’t know the details of, bits of information that made Simeon’s expression darken, but he urged you to continue, desperate to learn about the voids inside of him he could never figure out how to fill. It wasn’t until you could hear people outside, too close to finding you for you to escape, that you stopped, and even by then your throat was dry and sore.

Before you left to give yourselves up, Simeon reached out and grabbed your hand. There was a serious look in his eyes, and you gulped. “Make a pact with me.”

“What?” You asked. “Simeon, you’re still-”

“I know. But we’re starting to cause trouble, and-” He looked to your arm, where one of the brothers’ marks slipped out from beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “I don’t want them to use their pacts over me. And I trust that you won’t use me just because I haven’t made a true pact before.”

Well, that last part was a given. Maybe it was the sound of Mammon’s voice getting closer, or maybe it was the intensity of his gaze - either way, you fell to your knees so you could be level with him again and nodded. There was an uncomfortable warmth on your shoulder, something that started off soothing but became too hot and prickled at your skin. Before you could look at the mark, Simeon reached for your face and pulled you in, kissing you with a heat he never had during the program and before his fall. Mammon and Leviathan chose this moment to burst in, their shouts falling at the image before them.

Leviathan was the first to speak, grumbling about gross normies in a tone that was clearly giving way to his sin. Mammon came to his senses a few moments later, yelling at Simeon about keeping his hands off. He reached for your arm, pulling you away roughly before shouting directly in your ear, “Hey! What’s the deal with this?”

He was pointing at your exposed left shoulder, where, over the scar, a dark pact mark sat. You were slightly unsettled at how foreboding it looked when you knew it was a twisted distortion of some angelic imagery, but one look at Simeon’s please cheshire grin eased your worries.

---

“So, about those battles…” Simeon trailed off. You were at his house, reading some books in his collection but really just using the trip as an excuse to lay with your head in Simeon’s lap. In one hand, he held a copy of his books, trying to regain some of his memories through their words again. The other was carding through your hair, distracting you from your own book - something random you had plucked off the shelves, eager to get to your spot on the couch.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you anything about that.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell me a lot of things, and yet…” He flicked your left shoulder. You sighed, resting your open book on your chest.

“What do you want to know?” He opened his mouth, but you interrupted him before he could get anything out. “Be specific. I can’t give you the full history of everything. I don’t even know if I know the full history of everything.”

Simeon smiled, tapping his fingers on you mindlessly. “Can you tell me about the battle I fell from?” He noticed how your smile faltered, and when you looked away, he reached to guide your eyes back to his. “Is something wrong?”

You unfurled his fingers and pressed his palm to your cheek, nuzzling into it. “It was over me.”

“Oh.” His voice got significantly smaller, and he asked, “What did you do…?”

“I wasn’t just me!” Playfully, you swatted at his arm, half hoping to dispel the awkwardness hovering in the air. Settling down, you clarified, “It was more...what we did.”

Simeon filled in some of the gaps himself. “I was in love with you.”

“I know, right? You have no taste.” He flicked your nose this time, and you stuck your tongue out at him. “Wait, was?!”

“Stay on topic, little lamb,” He urged gently. When you looked up at him, silently indicating for him to continue his questions, he asked, “So, what, did I lose? Was I condemned for fighting against the Celestial Realm?” That would be a noble fall, he decided. He could make peace with that.

But your face fell again, and your voice got serious. “Simeon...you were fighting against me. You were fighting for the Celestial Realm.”

“What?” Truly aghast, he placed his hand on your cheek again, applying no force but keeping your gaze on his as if you’d stop talking if you looked away. “Why?”

Part of you didn’t know, and that part would never know. Not if Simeon really never regained his memories, anyway. Dejectedly, you shrugged and answered, “I don’t know for sure. But I think you were trying to fight for the fate of my soul. You thought you were fighting for me.”

“How can you know?” You hated the way his voice shook, but didn’t draw any attention to it. “How can you know what I was thinking when I don’t even know?”

“Because I trust you, Simeon. I trusted you then and I trust you now.”

He nodded, but you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t entirely convinced. Perhaps Diavolo and Baratos were on to something when they warned you not to indulge his questions. His hand went back to slowly messing with your hair, but there was a reluctance to it that told he was only trying to ease your own worries. You could guess what he was thinking - you were probably thinking the same thing, torn apart by a relationship that only seemed to exist to defy every rule that ever existed.

Wherever you went and whatever you did, if he was to follow you and love you, it felt like you would never know peace.

But if you already fought each other, fought for each other, what else was there that you couldn’t handle?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me simeon #swd simeon #simeon #simeon x reader #mine #obey me simeon x reader #swd simeon x reader

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Sweatpants SZN (Angel Edition)

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel goes out dressed like a hoe. Inspired by this post about my frustration by the boys wearing jeans when they sleep.

Warnings: it’s long 3k worth 😬 and a whole lotta filth

A/N: Here’s another series for my Mayan men! I already have plans for Nestor, EZ, and Miguel.

A/N 2: Special dedication to @starrynite7114 thank you for always indulging me and being a wonderful friend

To check out more here’s my masterlist and if you want notifications here’s my taglist.

Photo cred: @starrynite7114

When you first found out that Angel sometimes wore jeans to sleep it boggled your mind. You were the type of girl that took off her bra, kick off her shoes, and take off your pants as soon as you got home. So, to see Angel sleeping in his jeans was lowkey traumatizing.

As a dutiful girlfriend (and also a partly selfish girlfriend) you bought Angel some gray sweatpants. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible and looking good at the same time. What you didn’t count on was that everyone else could appreciate the goods.

You were pouring yourself a cup of coffee of when Angel came home. He’d left early this morning before you woke up. “I’m back, querida.” You could hear him setting down bags on the table.

“Good morn-ingg,” the cheerfulness dropped out of your voice when you saw what Angel was wearing. A plain white t-shirt that was getting too tight, because of all the working out he was doing which made him almost as cut as EZ and a pair of those damn gray sweatpants you had bought for him.

“What?” Angel asked, confused at your sudden change in mood. “Do I got something on my face or clothes?” He started swiping his face and body, trying to clean the imaginary dirt off him.

“Nah, you’re good. Did you really wear that to the store?” Angel was genuinely confused. He didn’t see anything wrong with his outfit. “Yeah. Does it not match or something?”

“You really went out like that without me?” It finally dawned on Angel. He heard hints of jealousy. He didn’t know why he didn’t hear it at first, because he was so used to asking this same question. Angel did his best to keep his smile to himself, you were gonna pop a gasket when he told you where he went after the grocery store. “Yeah, you were sleeping. I doubt you wanted me to wake you up to go to the store and Vicki’s place.”

You almost spit out your coffee when Angel mentioned Vicki’s place. “YOU WENT WHERE?!” Angel began putting up the groceries because if he didn’t, he would’ve burst out laughing at you. “Vicki’s. Bishop called when I was at the store and asked if I could drop some things over.”

He was fucking with you. He was avoiding eye contact with you for a reason. “Angel!” He stopped putting the cereal on top of the refrigerator and turned towards you. He didn’t even last thirty seconds of you staring at him before he started laughing. “Screw you, Angel!” It didn’t even bother him that you were angry, your jealousy was cute to him.

Too enraptured in aggressively washing out your mug, you didn’t notice Angel walking up on you until he wrapped his hands around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder. “C’mon you can’t really be mad, can you? Remember I’m a grown man and can wear whatever I want.” He threw the line you used at him the many multiple times when he didn’t agree with the outfit of your choice.

Damn it! You couldn’t think of a great comeback. “Its not the same!” Angel’s laugh vibrated throughout your body. “Someone sounds jealous.” He sung into your ear. You elbowed him off of you and started putting up the rest of the groceries. “No! You not even all that cute to be doing all of that for.”

“Oh really?” He arched his eyebrow at you before he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Angel just made you eat your words. It was like you had a golden god standing before you and the only appropriate response would be to get on your knees to worship him. Thankfully, you had a modicum of dignity and only salivated at the man in front of you.

You were so spaced out that you allowed Angel to pick you up and set you on the counter. “What you staring at, baby?” Angel nudged his nose against yours then ran it along your neck.

“Nothing,” you pouted. Angel kissed your nose then your lips. “You sure?” He took one of your hands and ran it along his body. “Because it seems like you were appreciating my arms, my abs,” his voice got lower as your hand went lower, “my dick.” He emphasized the k. “You feel that? That’s all yours, mami. No need to be jealous, ok?”

“Okay.” You resigned your jealousy and tried to kiss Angel, but he pulled away from you. He reminded you of your agreement last night. No sex today until you and him were finished with cleaning the house, and he knew if he let you kiss him then he would end up fucking you right on the table.

Reluctantly you got up, but at least you were motivated to clean the house faster. Angel took on your shared bedroom and bathroom while you had the front of the house. There were stolen kisses between switches of cleaning supplies and smacks on the butt whenever you passed each other (which Angel pretended he didn’t like when you did it to him.)

You had just finished cleaning your part of the house when you finally allowed yourself to watch Angel cut the grass in the backyard. Grabbing two glasses of sweet tea, you went to stand in the doorway and watch Angel work. Even though they were gonna be trouble those grey sweatpants were a gift from god. They slung low enough on his hips that you could appreciated his Adonis belt. The sun beating down on him made him sweat and if it was possible you would pay an insane amount of money to be one of the sweat droplets rolling down his body.

He finally cut off the lawn mower and smiled at you perving at him. “Thank you,” he took the glass of sweet tea and chugged it down, some of it getting into his beard which made you think of other ways to get his beard wet. “All done cleaning?” He asked, backing you into the house. “Yeah,” you pulled him by the drawstrings until his phone started ringing. “Angel, no,” you whined, knowing it either wouldn’t be a short call or it would be call for him do club business.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. Angel apologized for the inconvenience and jumped in the restroom for a quick shower. Before he left, he apologized again and promised to make it up to you after the party at the clubhouse.

Angel dressing like a thot, being denied sex twice in one day, and being left alone to your own devices was not a good combination. You were doing a good job with keeping your brattiness tucked away, but when you were looking for an outfit for the party, your brattiness in the form of dark Kermit was bubbling up. In the end Kermit won.

As Angel predicted, you made it to the party before him and you were wearing the skirt, he specifically told you not to wear without him present. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Please, please go change.” The last time you wore something this risky at the clubhouse, Angel shoved you into EZ’s trailer and screwed you into tears on his bed. “Chill out, I brought my own car tonight. No one is going in your trailer.” That calmed him down only a tiny bit because he knew once his brother saw you, he was going to lose it.

“He’s gonna kill you, Y/N.” Gilly told you while glaring off anyone thinking of trying to talk to you. No one was gonna approach his friend’s girl while he was around. “The only thing he is gonna kill is,” EZ quickly interrupted you, “Please do not finish that sentence.”

Outside Angel and Coco had just arrived from across the border. “Hey man, y’all got some honeys down here.” Paul from the San Bernardino chapter ran up on them. Coco entertained him while Angel listened. He honestly hasn’t paid attention to any other women since you’ve came in your life. “Then there’s one chick, mannnnnnnn. If Gilly wasn’t acting like some damn guard dog I would’ve talked to her already.”

“Gilly got a girl?” Angel asked, opening the door. “Not to my knowledge.” Coco responded stepping in after his friend.

“Oh, there she is!” Paul pointed out to you talking to EZ and Gilly. “Man, it look like she got some good dick sucki-,” Abruptly Angel grabbed Paul by the collar. “I dare you to finish that fucking sentence.”

Paul saw the fire in Angel’s eyes, and he knew he made a big mistake. “Shit, Angel! My bad! I didn’t know she was your old lady. I won’t even look in her direction.”

“Keep it that way!” Angel pushed Paul away and made a beeline towards you. First, it was EZ that noticed him. Suddenly, the prospect was really into keeping the glasses clean. Then it was Gilly who walked away from you in mid conversation, leaving you confused until you felt the familiar mold of Angel’s body against. “You got ten seconds to walk to the backseat of your car or I’m throwing you over my fucking shoulder.” He whispered into your ear harshly while deceiving everyone else into thinking he was just giving you a hug and whispering sweet words in your ears.

The ten seconds started once he released you and you wasted no time. When Angel got like this it was better to shut up and listen. Angel ignored the ‘hellos’ and ‘what’s up, man’. He was on a mission and nothing would stop him. You were just about to open the car door when you noticed that your car was parked in front of the clubhouse. It was close enough for everyone to hear all the ungodly things Angel was about to do to you. “Aren’t you gonna move the car?” You asked when he was still behind you when you opened the back door. “Get in the got damn car,” he ordered through clenched teeth. You scrambled to get inside, from his tone you knew you didn’t want to press your luck. Once inside, Angel wasted no time. He folded you in half like a table, moved your panties to the side and dived in.

Usually when Angel ate you out, he’d warm you up. A kiss here, a kiss there, small slow torturous licks, but right now all that was thrown out the window. This was as brutal as to all the actual rough fucking he would do to you.

His teeth ran across your clit and it felt like he hit every single nerve. “Angel!” You shout out, reaching out to grab his hair, but he slapped your hand away. “Did I say you could touch my shit? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But Daddyyy,” you whined, still making grabby hands. “What the fuck did I just say?” Angel grabbed ahold of your wrists in one hand and choked you with the other. “To keep my hands to myself.”

“Then do that shit,” he growled. He released you and went back to work. You had to settle for the handlebar by the window because Angel wasn’t easing up. In fact, he added two of his fingers furiously pumping into you. “Look at you creaming all over my fingers. You don’t even deserve them. What did I fucking tell you about this damn skirt?”

“Not to wear it.” You whimpered about to reach for his wrist, but then you remembered his warning to keep your hands to yourself. “Then you understand why daddy’s pissed. Especially when I got brothers from other chapters talking about how fine you are and how you got some good dick sucking lips.”

“I’m so sorry, daddy.” He hovered over you to give you a quick peck. “It’s okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me by screaming my name.”

Still keep his fingers in you, Angel suckled your bud. The combination of his cold rings in your heated core and his tongue flicking your clit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. “ANGELLLL, FUCKKKKKKK!” You screamed, beating on the surprisingly strong window.

“Keep cumming.” Angel’s voice was muffled by your pussy in his mouth, but you heard him clearly.

Finally, you calmed down but now you were jonesing for Angel’s dick. You went for Angel’s belt but he back away from you as far as the car allowed you to. “Daddy, I need you to fuck me please.”

“I needed you to be a good girl and listen, but we all can’t get what we want.” Angel felt bad when he saw your dejected little face. He decided to give you a little something else also you didn’t say his name enough for him to let everyone know you belong to him. “If you promise to be a good girl, I’ll give you something to hold you over.”

“I promise, I’ll be good!” Angel laughed at how quickly you agreed to it. He slid your panties off and scooted you closer to him. He grind his clothed groin against your bare one. The friction of the fabric of his jeans on your sensitive clit had you on the verge of tears. “Nah, don’t start that shit,” Angel slapped you. “We still have a party to attend.” Was this man fucking crazy? He expected you to face everyone after this?

Angel proceeded to dry hump you as if he was actually fucking you. “Oh my god, Angel! Just like that. Keep fucking me just like that daddy.” He bent down and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Yeah? You gonna cum all on Daddy’s jeans like a good little slut, huh?”

“Yes, please. I need it so bad, daddy.”

“Ok, just for you.” Angel pressed down on your hips and pummeled into you. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” you chanted his name over and over again while you came for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

Angel enjoyed your shuddering underneath him, but he couldn’t enjoy it for too long. You two had a party to get to. Taking your panties, he rolled them back up and then fixed your skirt. “When we get out of here you stand in front of me since you made a mess on my jeans, ok.”

“Ok,” Angel pulled you out of the car and smoothed out your clothes. While he did that you tried to clean his face since it was soaked with your juices, but he wouldn’t let you.

The two of you came back in the clubhouse, where the lights illuminated Angel’s face. Gilly was outside when everything happened and when he just saw Angel’s face he shuddered in disgust and called Angel a nasty fuck.

After Gilly left, Liza, head of the Angel Reyes fan club walked up to you two, but she completely ignored you. “Heyy Angel. You looked really good this morning. Sweatpants season suits you very well.” With no shame she dragged her eyes all over his body but was disappointed when you were blocking his crotch.

“Yeah, my girl got them for me. Thanks babe.” Angel turned to you, gave you a kiss, and allowed you to take advantage of it. You took control and basically were swapping spit with him in front of this girl. “Mmm, you taste just like me.” Swiping your thumb across Angel’s bottom lip, you collected some of your lip gloss and juices, and then put it in your mouth. Liza stomped off and Coco called y’all sick fucks.

Just like Angel said, he used you as a shield. The entire night you were stuck like glue. His beer got empty and when you attempted to get up to get him another, he slammed you back down on his lap and yelled at EZ to bring him another. Soon, you figured it had less to do with his now dried and stainless crotch and more to do with your short ass skirt.

The evil bastard also did it so you could constantly feel his erection. It was so bad that you would zone out and think about how great Angel would feel inside of you. You were so deep in your thots thoughts that you hadn’t realized Bishop came and asked you a question. The men around the table laughed at your confused huh and Bishop repeated his question. Quickly you recovered and gave him a smart answer.

“Can’t focus, mami?” Angel smiled against your neck and thrusted his hips, causing more friction between your legs.

Fucking tease! Two can play at that game. The rest of the night you would grind in his lap, making him lose his concentration. You were the reason he lost poker twice that night. Eventually he got tired of your antics and you two finally left the party.

“Imma hit the shower and get all this desert off me. How about you sit and get ready for daddy, hmm?” Angel didn’t wait for your answer and began stripping, leaving a trail of clothes from your bedroom to the bathroom. While he showered you put on your canary yellow Fenty lingerie set. It was one of the few Angel didn’t rip because he loved how it complimented your skin.

Usually Angel came out in a towel or butt ass naked but this time he came out with those damn sweats on. And just like that all the pumping up and the shit talking you did was gone. At this point you were gonna let Angel ruin you.

“Fuck querida, you’re beautiful.” Still standing, Angel bent over, buried his hands in your hair, and kissed you to the point that you almost forgot your own name.

When he ended the kiss, you could feel the energy shift. Daddy Angel was back in the building. He backed away to sit in the chair, but never turned his back on you, so you could keep an eye on his dick print. “Come crawl to Daddy, hermosa.” He crooked his finger at you.

As you made your way to him, he pulled his dick out. You wanted to get to him faster, but that wouldn’t be sexy at all, so you paced yourself. Angel didn’t make it easy for you though. He took his dick out and started stroking it.

Fuck that slow shit, you sped up some more causing Angel to chuckle. “Grab it.” Angel took his hand off of himself and you quickly replaced it with yours. “Feel that, mami? That’s all because of you.” It felt amazing to know you could cause this type of reaction out of Angel.

Normally, Angel would slap his dick in your face, but since he gave you free reign you did it yourself. You enjoyed the hiss that came from you slapped it on your tongue. “See that’s your dick, baby. Now suck it like it yours.” Angel laced his hands behind his head as you went to work.

Keeping your eyes on Angel, you swirled your tongue over the salty mushroom head and kissed the underside. “Stop teasing, querida.” Fluttering your eyes, you tapped his dick against your pursed lips. “What do you mean?” Taking a chunk of your hair, Angel pulled back your head. “You know what I mean. Start sucking or I’ll fuck your throat until no sound can come out of that smartass mouth of yours.”

It really shouldn’t have, but that little threat turned you on more. Behind your back you grabbed opposite elbows, you were gonna make Angel lose his mind with no hands. Easily (thanks to much practice), you took all of Angel in. Bobbing your head up and down you made your man squirm underneath you. “Fuck, just like that baby.” Angel was close, you could tell by the hitch in his voice. So, you played the dangerous game and backed off, only to give him slow, long licks.

“Y/N,” he growled your name in warning. “What?” You asked innocently while unhooking your bra, letting your breasts fall out. “Keep playing this game if you want to. You won’t think it’ll be funny in a little bit.”

To appease your man, you wrapped your tits instead of your mouth around his cock, stroking him that way while occasionally licking the head. “Shit, shit, shit.” Angel abruptly pulled away from you, lifted you from the ground, threw you on the bed, and ripped your panties off. “Angel!” He shoved his sweats off and pumped his cock while he climbed into bed. “I’ll buy you another set. Fuck I’ll buy you all the sets.”

Just like in the car Angel had your ankles by your ears, but this time he actually had his dick inside of you and your orgasm was automatic. “Damn, already? Who’s making you cream like this, mami?”

“You are Daddy,” you whined, clutching onto him. “Mmhmm that’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!” You screeched when Angel’s fingers found your clit. “And whose dick is this?”

“Mines,” you yelled as Angel kept hitting that golden spot. “Then start acting like it! Ain’t no other bitch about to take it. This all your dick.”

Pulling Angel by the back of the neck, you kissed him. “Keep fucking me just like that, Daddy. I wanna cream all over my dick.”

“Yeah?” Angel tilted your chin and nipped at your lips. “You like when I fuck you like a whore?” Angel drew back, almost pulling all the way out and then snapped his hips against yours. “Good fucking pussy. Can I cum in my pussy?” You nodded your head furiously. “Yes daddy, fill me up please.”

With a couple of more snaps of his hips Angel had both of you screaming in ecstasy. Each of your orgasms prolonging the other’s. It felt like hours before either one of you caught your breath.

“Sooooo, is it a good or bad thing that I bought some more sweats?” Angel asked, already going down on you, not waiting for an answer.

“Good, definitely gooood!” You shrieked when you felt the first lick.

Thank god for sweatpants season.

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