#i fell for a big guy with a red aesthetic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milksuu · 7 months

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Hey hey heyyyy!!! It's me, the one that keeps stalking your page! 💙🧚‍♀️

I wanna say that OML I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! AAAAHHH! And I'm so so so happy to see that

anyways, this is a request for how the heartsteel boys would react to a lover with big bazoinkers who usually wears baggy clothes suddenly wearing something tight fitted??? Heheehehehe.

Also, how would the react if you were hit on by someone else due to their lover having big personalities?? (You don't have to do this one if you're uncomfortable ofc!!)

Also, keep up what you're doing, feeding my unhealthy obsession with these fictional (but very attractive) men. I hope you have an amazing day/night!!!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

❥ prompt: So, you got the big boinkers. The huge bagonzos. The gigantic bonobos. Whatever guys called boobs these days. You're super self-conscious about them, ever since you hit puberty. You've tried to hide them. But with the upcoming red-carpet event for the music awards, you can't wear baggy clothes next to your Heartsteel boyfirend. You had to look your best. Or as some would say, your breast. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, possessive boyfriend energy, over protective boyfriend energy ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel (aphelios, ezreal, kayne) / f!reader

APHELIOS

Aphelio's thought you always looked cute and comfortable in your hoodies. In casual form, it was his aesthetic as well. Until the time came for a special event.

Aphelio's hadn't imagined exactly what you would wear. But surely, it might be a long-sleeve and turtleneck to match your conservative style. He understood how you felt about your particular assets. He would never suggest you to wear anything that didn't make you feel secure.

He was absolutely wrong. So, so, so wrong. (Wait. Did he actually like being wrong?) He got the long-sleeves part right. But the black mini-dress you sported hugged all the curves you possessed. With just a bit of thigh fat squeezed at the hem. If Aphelio's could ever speak again, he'd beg to be immediately silenced between those thighs. And at the top, there was a glorious boob-window that any e-girl would go absolutely rabid to have.

He had to look away a few times. Thankful to have a mask covering most of his flustered features. Maintaining a semblance of composure, he led you by the hand, speaking to you through squeezes between your hands.

Down the red-carpet, with flashing lights, the two of you posed. One camera man took a picture a little too angled for his liking. Your hand trembled in his. Blushing and holding your breath. Embarrassed tears pricked the corner of your eyes. Afraid of the possible lewdness that would be plastered in magazines. You didn't want to even imagine the headliners. And what would they say about Aphelio's? That he was dating some sort of 'all-boobs-no brains' bimbo? You wanted nothing like that for him.

Aphelio's sensed all of your emotions and didn't hesitate his next move. He dragged a discreet foot against the carpet, folding it in a manner that caused the paparazzo to trip. When the shady-cameraman fell, his camera smashed to pieces against the ground. The man dramatically fell to his knees, holding his head and weeping in buckets.

You gasped. Aphelio's merely rolled his eyes dismissively, tugging you way. He knitted his brows, and squeezed your hand tightly. You knew exactly what he did. You smiled, condensing your chest against his arm.

Feeling his face heat up again, he looked away. After acting so cool, and looking so cool, there's no way he'd let you see him blush like a high-school boy.

EZREAL

Ezreal never minded you wearing baggy clothes. He thought it was fun—for him! He loved diving underneath your oversized hoodie, and poke his head out the other side. Like you two were some odd circus attraction. That, or pretend he was a sailor drowning in a sea of boobies. He liked wearing the stylish hat.

He wasn't exactly sure what you would wear to the event, but he wished it was something he could fit inside later. He was joking. That was a total joke. So long as you were comfortable in it, he didn't mind.

When he saw you step out of the limo, his jaw completely dropped. He felt like one of those cool male-lead movie stars. Taking off his glasses in iconic slow-mo fashion, mouthing the words "Oh, Baby."

He spared zero time to lead you by the arm. Ready for from some press worthy photos he knew you two were going to absolutely rock.

Making it to the concessions room, where the liquor and horderves were plenty, it was prime time for music stars to socialize.

One young rapper approached, way too drunk off his drink, slurred with a smirk at your general direction. Commenting on whether or not Ezreal paid for you to have boob job in order to please him.

The giddy-boyish-sunshine smile turned utterly dark. The laugh he forced was ear grating. It chilled you to the bone. There was a flash of yellow. And briefly, you felt your arm empty of his presence. Then the scene unfolded. The man's drink completely spilled all over him. Another flash. He was pushed, stumbling to the ground.

Ezreal merely snickered into his suit sleeve when bouncers in the room dragged the drunk man away by the collar. Deeming him too drunk and unfit for the show, and subsequently tossed out.

Ezreal tugged you off to a far, secluded corner. He took you into his arms, squeezing tightly. Apologizing into your ear. You smiled softly, and rubbed his the back. Reassuring him you weren't hurt by the comment. And gave him a grateful kiss into his hair for sticking up for you.

KAYN

Kayn 'Big ol' Tiddle Bitties'. If he could change his middle name to that, he would. It'd be his other rap persona, in ode to your breasts. Rhaast approved. And sure, you may be insecure about them, but Kayn fucking hell wasn't. He swore, one day, he would scream in praise at the rooftops. (Thankfully that hasn't happened...yet.)

He prayed to every demon, anti-christ, Eldritch God on this forsaken plane of existence for you to bless his presence with those huge knockers. And holy shit, did you ever at the event.

From the outfit alone, if he leashed himself for you, and placed a crop in your hand, he'd be on all fours. This wouldn't be a classy event anymore. It'd be an all-out fetish party.

Sadly. Reality kept it to a red-carpeted event. Where he had to act professional. Lead you accordingly, and restrain himself on every level possible. It took all his effort to not just call an Uber and take you in nearest love-hotel.

After mingling before the show, it was time for the awards. You took your seat next to each other. As the event played on, with various performances, you felt something being thrown into your cleavage. You looked down, spotting popcorn. Turning a cheek, you saw a group of young men laughing. Making comments about your breasts, and high-fiving one another when they 'made the shot'.

Kayn noticed. And boy, was he about to lose his shit during a performance speech. You placed a hand against his chest, whispering for him not to make a scene, and not allow the clowns to hurt his reputation. Fine—he wouldn't commit a crime. But he would show them who they were fucking with.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling any lewd noises. Kayn planted his face in your cleavage, biting and licking your chest. He took up all the popcorn, and spat it out the guys like buttered bullets. They jumped with looks of disgust, cursing under their breaths about how damn crazy he was. With a final growl, they scurried away.

Kayn cackled, and you had to shush him when Yone leaned back in his chair and gave a look.

an: holy shiii tysvm for this req. @ccraccz! you're a genius. pls keep stalking my page *smooches you* sadly i have to break this up into two parts, since I wasn't expecting to make it so long??? lmfao??? pls stay tuned for part 2

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #aphelios #sheida kayn #ezreal #kayn x reader #aphelios x reader #ezreal x reader #x reader #reader insert #league of legends #league imagines #LoL #request #reqs open #part 2 coming soon #yone cameo in kayn's section is what i live for

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deejadabbles · 7 months

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Hiiii friend!! wanted to request a spooky prompt number 6 and 😈 with Fives please and thank you!!

Hello darling!! Thank you for sending this in, I was very inspired the moment I read it so I hope you enjoy this 🤩 This one also got a little ~heated~ since Fives had officially become one of my faves 😏

How to Summon A Demon Boyfriend (Demon!Fives x GN Reader)

Summary: There's no such thing as demons, they're just something to use for cheesy cautionary tales...Right? Rating: M (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,813 Warnings: Crappy 'friends', small injury and mentions of blood, reader gets a big scare but it's fine in the end I promise, heavily suggestive content. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

You really needed to learn to say no sometimes.

Tonight was supposed to be the perfect chance to curl up on the couch in your favorite PJs and coziest blanket. Instead, you were freezing your ass off in a dark playground, pretending to summon a demon like some bored teenager.

Cam and you weren’t even that close, just work buddies, but that little voice inside your head had been yelling too loud: 'he was really sweet and invited you! You have to go! It would be rude not to!' Now you were annoyed with every moment of this silly little seance.

“Alright, I think that should do it!” said the cute blonde girl, who you didn’t know before tonight. You didn’t know any of Cam’s friends, yet here you were with them. “I think it’s a good little summoning circle, if I do say so myself!” She beamed down at the chalk drawing she’d sketched onto the area usually reserved for hopscotch.

Then another one of Cam’s friends, a young man with dark hair fit for a punk band, voiced your own thoughts, “This is stupid, what makes you think we can summon a demon from some random book you found in a second hand store?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, if anything’s the real deal, it’s this!” Cam insisted, cautiously taking the book from the blonde and flipping a page, “I mean, just look at this!” He tilted it towards you and the punk guy, “The ancient looking paper, the notes and stains- plus, the store owner said she got it from her friend when he died and that his family was into all kinds of strange occult shit.”

You would admit, it was a very convincing tome, even if the demon summoning was all fiction, the owner had put lots of work into its design. You reached out to touch the edge of the page, to see if it really did feel ancient, but just as you did Cam moved as well and a sharp pain seared through your finger tip.

With a loud hiss and a curse you pulled your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.

“Shit- sorry!” Cam said, “Paper cut?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a tentative peak at the now throbbing finger. It was leaking red, the skin around it looking angry, and you noticed part of the offending page was now stained with your blood too. Well, at least it added to the book’s authentic aesthetic.

“Wow, didn’t know we’d be making blood sacrifices tonight,” the blonde said with a laugh.

“Happy to contribute,” was your sarcastic reply as you tried to soothe the throbbing. “Next time I-”

“Uh, guys!” Cam’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the book, “The words are glowing!” Then he let out a high pitched yelp, and dropped the book as if it had burned him.

With a loud thud, it landed on the summoning circle and that’s when you saw that the curving calligraphy on the pages were indeed glowing! Not only that, but the moment it touched the chalked symbols, the ground below you started to rumble unlike any earthquake you had ever seen.

Cam and blondie yelped as they fell to the ground together, you not keeping your balance for much longer, and punk kid only staying upright when he threw himself on a picnic table.

“What the hell is happening?!” the girl yelled, pulling the hood of her jacket up as if that would shield her from the horrors unfolding.

“You’re the ones who wanted to summon a demon!” Punk shouted, looking pale and ready to hurl as the ground continued to shake.

Then, within the circle, the already cracked and worn cement split apart. Chunks of it flew as old compacted dirt from beneath surged to the surface, making way for something else.

It wasn’t a man- “man” didn’t begin to describe it. Clawed hands reached towards the sky, lifting above a head of dark curls that did little to hide two large horns. Dark skin around tight muscles that flexed as he rose up from the earth, a bare chest with marks that might have been tattoos, and a blue kilt of some sort that made room for a swaying tail.

Paralyzed on the ground as you were, all you could do was watch with wide eyes as the demon stretched, and let out a roar of a yawn as if waking from a deep sleep. Then his eyes flashed open, revealing deep brown irises rimmed in red.

He scanned them over your little petrified group and, for some reason, your stunned brain noticed the dumbest little detail. 'Oh, he has a number five tattooed on his forehead. Wonder what that means'.

That’s when the demon pulled his lips back in a dastardly grin, revealing large fangs surely made to rip apart human flesh.

“Run,” he growled.

Somebody screamed. Someone else cried some sort of plea. But you couldn’t say anything, all noise dying in your throat as you rolled over and tried to scramble to your feet. Just as you started to, someone (Cam?) knocked into you and sent you tumbling back to the dirt painfully. Footsteps thundered around you and, looking up, you realized that the other three were already disappearing into the darkness as they ran, leaving you behind.

“Wait-” the pleading call was lost in the wind, just as something behind you took a loud step closer.

Somehow your brain was going a mile a minute and not thinking anything at all as you became painfully aware of the large, looming presence closing in on you. Body unable to move from fear, all you could do was listen as the demon let out a low, deep chuckle.

“Some friends you have,” he purred. “Leaving you here.” Something brushed along your back. “All alone.” Leaves rustled as he knelt above you. “With me.” Hot breath fanned against your ear.

A noise very close to a squeal left you as a hand grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over onto your back. You were face to face with the demon now, his arms caging you in on either side, his face hovering over yours, and still sporting that hungry grin as his dark eyes looked you over slowly.

“P-please don’t kill me,” it came out as little more than a wheeze, but at least you managed to say something.

That’s when those brilliant eyes snapped back to yours. There was a heartbeat of silence in which you went through a thousand different ‘this is the end’ scenarios in your head-

But then, the demon threw his head back and laughed!

It wasn’t a sinister, cruel laugh either. Instead it was light and, dare you say, joyful. The kind of laugh a loved one would make after you mentioned some inside joke or another. His broad shoulders shook and that tail of his swished behind him in a way that reminded you of a cat ready to play.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad!” He leaned back some then, as if to give you some air, though his arms were still on either side of you. “See, that’s just a little act I do to give you humans a scare.” This time, the grin he flashed was playful and a little lopsided. “You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for yanking me out of my cozy little dimension. It’s a little annoying when you don’t expect to be summoned.”

You opened your mouth, now stunned in a completely different way, but no sound was ready to come out yet, apparently.

That didn’t deter the demon, though, his eyes searched your face when he said, “Course, I did want to scare off the others. Groups are always more annoying, and I kinda liked the idea of having you to myself once I saw how cute you are.”

The unexpected statement caused you to come back down from your fearful high a little. You blinked a few times, then found it in yourself to look him in the eyes more directly. You managed to stutter out a “Wha-what?”

The demon laughed again, a shorter one this time, “Wow, I really must have done a number on you, I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He held up a hand, though the black claws at his fingertips almost made you flinch. “I swear, I’m not going to kill you. Even if I was that type of demon, there’s no challenge in killing humans,” he winked, “you’re too soft and supple.”

Heat took over your face and you weren’t sure if it was annoyance, embarrassment, or something else. Probably a cocktail of the three. After a deep, steadying breath, you finally managed to say something more than a strangled noise or single word.

“So, you’re some kind of good demon?”

He shrugged those naked, now very distracting, shoulders. “Something like that. Mostly, I’m just here to fulfill whatever contract you want from me.”

“M-Me?”

“Yup.”

“Why me?”

The demon looked down at you with something…interesting in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place even though his expression was still light. His hand slid down the ground beside your prone body, until it reached your wrist. He grasped it gently, lifting it to show off your still sore cut.

“Because your blood summoned me. You’re the one I’m bound to, sweetheart.”

Keeping his eyes on yours, he brought your finger to his mouth and closed his lips around the bleeding cut. You found yourself breathless again as a wet tongue ran over the little injury, soothing the ache in a way you didn’t expect.

He pulled your finger out of his mouth with a little pop, then turned that fang flashing smirk on you again. “See, you summoned me, now we make some sort of deal, a contract. You give me something and I give you something in return.” He placed your hand on his naked chest so he could pin his own by your head again. “Name’s Fives, by the way, and you are?”

After swallowing the sudden lump in your throat and not feeling any more calm after doing it, you introduced yourself in the firmest tone you could muster. The demon- Fives, repeated your name slowly, and you could see his tongue tasting every letter of it.

“Hm, I like that name,” he said and again, you caught a glimpse of the spade-tipped tail flicking at his back.

You must have been more distracted by it than you realized, because he brushed the back of a claw down your cheek, before taking your chin in a firm grip to force your eyes back on his. When you did, his gaze seemed just a little darker.

“So, darling, what kind of deal do you want to make with me?”

Tag List @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator @loving-the-cambridges

#fives x reader #fives x you #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #demon fives #halloween prompts #halloween fic #clone x reader #tcw x reader #deeja writes

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marshmellowjay · 1 year

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Can you do any Fandom of your choice react to y/n as a vampire:3 pls

Mcyt react to Ancient!Vampire!Reader

ft- C!Technoblade, C!Lmanburg!NTT!Brutus/Orpheus, Platonic!C!Philza, Platonic C!Bench trio, C!Niki

(Im going for a old school type vampire who loves their tea-cups)

(e/c) - eye color

C!Technblade

You and Technoblade met wayyyy back before the dream smp. This was when Techno still had millions of followers.

You both eventually fell in love and ruled his empire together.

Techno noticed your odd diet and tendencies long before you both started dating so he wasnt surprised when you told him you're a vampire.

He is actually quite happy about it since hes the blood god after all.

He loves the blood filled rubys that you give him, even though your already dating.

he also likes how your eyes can change from red to (e/c)

By the time the dream smp comes around you both are married so he is more protective then when you were dating, He makes sure no-one finds out what you are.

He loves how you are so fancy even after millions of years and he laughs when you complain about Tommy touching your ancient and fragile tea cups or when you ripped your favorite dress/suit.

He doesnt mind the blood at all, Just make sure to not spill it. Blood is hard to get rid of. (he loves your sharp teeth)

He may even try to convince you to turn him. hes thought about it.

C!Lmanburg!NTT!Brutus/Orpheus

Now during the beginning of L'manburg he had no idea, He was too busy building and doing is president duties.

But during the wars it became more visible, Orpheus noticed your eyes flashing red from time to time due to you not having time to get your fill.

After the first war had calmed down a bit he finally asked you if you not human. You explained and he was a bit scared but he brushed it off and asked a bunch of questions.

He loves your aesthetic and thinks its funny how you hate when people touch your tea cups. he does get a bit queasy when you drink your fill in front of him.

He tries to think of it as wine when you drink from your tea cups but the iron smell gets to him sometimes. (he did try to convince you to turn him once though.)

He got a blood filled ruby from you and was confused before he figured out you were trying to court him

He was so flustered and flattered

Platonic C!Philza

He is such a papa bear when it comes to you I swear.

He met you one day during his adventures when you were still a fledgling and he never let you go.

He always makes sure you get your fill, he once tried to give you animal blood and it did not go well

He does like your aesthetic though, he has his own set of ancient tea cups you gave him as a gift.

He has them locked up in a display case and only takes them out when you guys have tea time. The rest of sbi know not to touch them. (they figured that out the hard way)

He isnt really fond of seeing your glowing red eyes in the dark but he still thinks they are pretty cool.

He wasnt fond of the teething when you were a fledgling and still has scars.

Platonic C!Bench trio

Now Tommy knew from the start. He caught you drinking from your tea-cup and knew immediately. He grew up with wilbur and techno for gods sake.

He was not shocked nor scared, he sees you as a big-sister/big-brother figure so he is glad you can protect yourself and him if needed.

He once tried to steal your cup and it did not go well.

Tubbo thought it was cool when he found out.

He asked to be turned one time but you talked him out of it.

He likes that you have superspeed and asks for piggy back rides all the time lol.

He doesnt mind the blood at all. Hes seen many things.

Ranboo found out from tommy and tubbo so he was a bit calm about it but he was still scared.

He tried to get over it but he just gets the hebejebes

He still hangs out with you but please keep the blood to a minimum.

he does like your teacups though, he thinks the glass ones are pretty.

C!Niki

Niki didnt know until you told her

She was to busy baking and trying to kill Tommy with Jack manifold.

When she found out she was honestly terrified. Shes heard rumors of vampires before and how they were violent and crazy.

But when she realized you were nothing like that she was chill.

She tried to get you to help her kill tommy a couple of times but you always refused.

She loves your dresses/suits so much.

If you ever ask her to become a vampire she will turn you down so fast. she wants to stay mortal thank you.

Drinking your fill around her is fine but dont spill any blood.

she has her own limited edition tea cups, just not nearly as ancient.

#jessiesworks #mcyt reaction #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #niki x reader #NTT!Brutus/Orpheus

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the-forgotten-lily · 7 months

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Why do I have a feeling that this was meant for the fans, all the people who supported her during that time, herself AND for Harry?!

The text:-

Taylor Swift’s 1989 (Taylor’s version) full prologue on the album booklet:

When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in london, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle. Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does.

But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see-in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming -the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the victorian era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that-right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in new york and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had max martin and shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. had a new friend named jack antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naiveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naivete, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will.

I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to...don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.

I'll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "welcome to new york". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.

It's been waiting for you.

#taylor swift #harry styles #1989 (taylor's version)#1989 vibes #haylor #i love their dynamic #fandom #swifties assemble

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woodsfae · 10 months

Text

Back to it after only… checks notes five months!

Babylon 5 S02414: There All The Honor Lies season 2 table of contents • previous episode

:o They're being merchandised!

"This is demeaning! We're not some deep space franchise." - Susan Ivanova

snerk

In my viewing hiatus, I forgot how truly stunning Claudia Christian is.

Hah, Sheridan fell for the oldest pickpocketing trick in the book, the ole "slight of hand while "accidentally" bumping into you." But I didn't expect it to be a set-up for an attempted murder!

Sheridan really doesn't look like a Bruce.

Delenn with the Hair! Being a detective!

This does smell of a set-up. I agree with Garibaldi, who is much more genial and likeable this episode than I remember him being the last several episodes at least. Maybe the break endeared him to me. :P

Lots of people acting strangely.

I hate that the Minbari are by and large being so racist to Delenn. Also, flagrantly flouting her legal authority as not only the Minbari-appointed ambassador to B5, but also the Council-appointed investigator into this situation!

The investigative protocols are kinda messed up. Sheridan issuing orders about the investigation into his own actions is D: not good. And very ripe for accusations of abuse of his position!

Whew, thank goodness, we're back to the light-hearted B-Plot.

With human face masks.

Hah, about time a lawyer shows up.

Yewouch, the hits keep piling up An indictment from Earth government, too.

Kosh! Kosh! Kosh! Here to be teaching. One does not simply refuse the Vorlon Ambassador's Summons.

A room, low-ceiling, with mysterious tarps shapes dappled in light, dimly. Robed figures. We're into the high fantasy side of this sci fi show again.

Sheridan really said "I don't have any cash, sorry."

omfg. Floating red robed figures singing classical latin hymns. We really are in the high fantasy side of this show again.

This is a moment of true beauty. Fucking wild, how did Kosh arrange this? or is there a society of magical monks living in the Down Below all the time?

Vir is haunted by the agonies of the past for two. Since Londo has no shame or intention of developing a conscience.

It's nice to get some Vir backstory, though. Poor guy. Unsupportive family, shit posting in an out-of-the-way unimportant crap position. And now they're taking it away for him. Rude.

Sheridan's field trip with Kosh was just what he needed, actually.

Delenn's people are shunning her, but she gathers critical information through the power of research and cross-referencing databases! Queen shit.

Minbari martial arts stances are pretty amusing. But Lennier's most deadly weapon is persuasive argument and appeals to honor.

Minbari don't lie, except to protect another Minbari's honor. THe latter part generally not being disclosed to aliens. That's a pretty big loophole, though. Makes it more like "Prefers to be honest when it's not too uncomfortable."

Delenn's propensity for meeting with her allies in private, aesthetic surroundings is as endearing as much as it is a ploy, I think. It's great for the type of gentle honesty she fosters in her conversations.

Dang, knowing this perspective of Sheridan's military victory over the Minbari, it does seem like an insult that Earth appointed him the commander of B5.

This outcome, as suggested by Sheridan, is a tidy way to wrap it up. But the backroom dealing feels more…overt? And less through official channels than much of Sinclair's dealings. Though there were coverups under his tenure, too! Such is the nature of B5 politics, it seems. But it also makes it a bit difficult to remember which governments, and which characters, know what. A lot of misinformation gets sent home to various planetary governments and circulates B5!

This seems nice of Londo to do for Vir, but I bet Londo also doesn't want to risk the next assistant not being as loyal to him personally. Better to keep the current one, butter him up, and improve his circumstances a little, to encourage that loyalty more.

Or kill him if everything goes south! So candid! Plus a month with the dreaful family. Londo can't help but be an ass, it seems.

And so ends the monetazation of B5. A little bear jettisoned into space. Captain's whims win, capitalism fights another day, a thousand ways.

A good and fun episode! The Moment of True Beauty really made it for me. A great Kosh Field Trip plopped right in the middle of the action. Just like Vorlons making incomprehensible moves that confuse the lower life forms. I am glad to be back! Hopefully continuing to be!

onwards!

#babylon 5 #woodsfae b5

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samael-your-guardian-angel · 9 months

Text

((Information about Samael!))

Name: Samael

Nicknames/Aliases: Planter of the Tree of Knowledge, Guardian Angel, Sam, Sammy J Gardener

Age/Date of Birth/Place of Birth: Older than time/Before time began/Heaven

Species: Angel

Gender/Pronouns: Technically agender, fine with corporation being seen as “male”, he/him

Sexuality: Technically asexual, sex-positive (in a demisexual sort of way) (Momo only!)

Appearance: Samael looks much like Crowley does; tall, lean, with red hair. He’s had just as many weird (meaning period-accurate) hairstyles as Crowley, but he prefers it long. In modern times, he often wears it up in a bun. Has normal, brown eyes, but enjoys novelty sunglasses that would make Crowley cringe. Loves wearing graphic tees with puns on them (example: a cartoon haloed avocado with the caption “Holy guacamole!”). Usually in street fashion in angelic colours of whites, creams, and tans. Just as concerned with coming off as “cool” as Crowley, but has a wildly different aesthetic.

Personality/History: A fast-living angel. A ray of sunshine, usually cheerful. Loves to people-watch. Great with kids. Easily distracted. Occasionally plagued with frustration (“why can’t people just be nice to each other?!”) Collects plants to the point where his flat is overrun with flowers, herbs and houseplants in pots, and he barely has room to sit down. (Refuses to sit in a chair properly anyway.) Has a bleeding heart for plants that need extra care, and is well known at all the local plant nurseries. All his ceilings are covered with stick-on stars, model solar systems, sky charts, and the like; some of which are hand-made. Drives a white Rolls Royce that refuses to play anything but ABBA, of its own free will. His timeline diverged from Crowley’s (EEAAO-style) because he did not suggest making a suggestion box, and thus did not end up at the Bad Kids table with Lucifer and the guys, and thus did not Fall.

His first assignment on Earth was helping put together the Garden of Eden (not as fun as making nebulae). There was supposed to be a DO NOT TOUCH sign on the tree, but he forgot about it. Got written up for that one. Hung around to watch the humans, was very dismayed to hear about the humans getting kicked out and felt a bit guilty for that. The Serpent, Asmodeus (wait, was he that one angel? THAT GUY FELL???), assured Samael that it wasn’t his fault and he was sure Samael was only doing his best. To hear such compassionate words from a demon (and he’s a demon- how- why- what-?) was fascinating to Samael, and he kind of, sort of, maybe, developed a bit of a crush- okay, he fell in love instantly whatever it’s not a big deal-

Got bored early on Earth, did some weird edgy LARPing to entertain himself, now has an Unfortunate Reputation in religious texts. Asmodeus teases him about it so much, which he finds so embarrassing (“Why does everyone think I’m literally Satan, I’m not, I’m not evil, I don’t go around seducing humans, stop laughing at me it’s not funny-”)

Kept showing up around Asmodeus like a very determined, lost puppy, until Asmodeus admitted that, alright, they were friends, maybe, don’t go spreading it around.

#ooc #character profile

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itmightrain · 7 months

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1989 tv Typed Prologue

When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle. Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me, it was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24, I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally ... and I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making “Red” had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my ears. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on “Red”? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see — in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming — the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian Era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth, and my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn’t sensationalize or sexualize that — right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called "1989," and we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it. In high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn’t know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure, and a sense of freedom I hadn’t tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to ... don’t say it ... don’t say it ... I’m sorry, I have to say it ... shake it off.

I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in “Blank Space” and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in “Welcome to New York.” You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989, reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long.

This moment is a reflection of the woods we’ve wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of “1989.”

It’s been waiting for you.

#taylor swift #1989 #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #1989 prologue #gaylor #<- i hope you hear and believe her even tho i know conspiracy theorists cant be easily reached

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space-mermaid-writing · 1 year

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Oh no, he's hot - Part 2 [IronStrange]

Summary: The second time Tony met Stephen, the sorcerer was intrigued

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 1.2k | Part 1

Chapter's Note: Here’s the second part nobody asked for.

Oh no, he’s hot

Tony eyed the building in front of him critically. It didn't quite fit into the aesthetic of New York. So much so that one might think it would stand out because of it. Yet, Tony was sure he had never noticed it before. The other pedestrians walked past it without even giving it a glance. Like they didn't see it at all.

Tony climbed up the steps and knocked. (There was no doorbell. Who didn’t have a doorbell?) Nothing happened for a moment, then the door opened, but there was no one to be seen.

Tony waited exactly twelve long seconds – he for once wanted to be polite – before he went to unravel this mystery on his own.

The interior design was an interesting choice. Not Tony's style, but fitting to magic ninja monks, he guessed. He walked up the wide staircase, clearly the centerpiece of this ridiculous big entrance hall, and was about to turn left when a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned around, his signature PR smile plastered on his face. He recognized the man from the other day. The one he had been talking to before. If just briefly. “Wong, right?” The man gave no reaction. Tough crowd. “I have questions regarding…” he made a vague gesture to the room, "everything."

Including that hot guy – Doctor Stephen Strange as the facial recognition software he had run the footage from the fight through had revealed – but that, of course, was incidental.

"We were expecting that. Follow me."

He led Tony down a hallway to a room and motioned him to enter.

So Tony did.

The furniture was minimalist and very zen. In the center sat Strange cross-legged and hovering four feet in the air. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be meditating.

Curious, Tony stepped closer to take a look at him up close. He was wearing casual clothes today, his red cape nowhere in sight. He was paler than Tony remembered, with dark shadows under his eyes. After all, just another human being, despite the impressive performance the other day. His bandaged hands lay relaxed in his lap, in what Tony recognized as a yoga pose.

When he thought he had waited long enough, Tony cleared his throat. And when that had no effect, he tapped the man’s shoulder.

Stephen jolted awake, as if Tony had turned him on by pressing a button. He startled and lost his balance as his levitation spell vanished and he fell on his butt.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, sorry." Tony raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to jump start you.”

Strange scowled at him, if only for a moment. Then he had put on a neutral expression that Tony knew was just a mask. That was fine, he had just marched in here unannounced. Apropos. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to track you down? On a scale from one to ten at least an eight.” Normally Tony loved a good challenge.

Strange raised an eyebrow and he seemed almost offended. “Just eight?”

The wards and cloaking spells around the Sanctum were centuries old. Only people in need or those who were desperate were able to find the doors. They had to be at the right place at the right time. And Stark did not give the impression that he was this kind of person.

Tony grinned. “Yeah. The Pentagon was a six point five, but I was in college back then and the technology wasn’t as advanced. So eight is pretty good. Not impossible though.”

Obviously, Stephen had to ask. “What’s a ten?”

Tony’s lips moved into a smug smirk. “My tower, of course.”

Stephen scoffed, amused. Of course. “What do you want, Stark?”

It may have sounded a little rude, but not much ruder than being forced back into his body by surprise. So, naturally, Tony let it slide, because he remembered why he came here in the first place. Not to get this guy’s number but the other reason. His questions.

“What is this?” he asked, looking around. “Your secret school of wizardry? How many wizards are there? Where did the gnomes come from? And that other thing? Had you been a wizard when you were a neurosurgeon?”

Strange tilted his head in a mix of being amused and annoyed. But Stark had managed to find the Sanctum, so he had to give him some credit.

“Do you want tea?” he asked, since this whole encounter seemed to take some time and he hadn't had breakfast yet.

“I’m more of a coffee kind of guy.”

A cup appeared out of nowhere and he was able to grab it just before the hot liquid spilled over.

Stephen's cup remained hovering next to him and followed him as he turned toward the door. Using the conjured lightning in the fight had done nothing good for his hands. He could barely move his fingers, which was why he opened the door even with a pinch of magic.

He motioned Tony to follow him. The meditation room was not the place to deal with Stark's pending questions.

"This isn't Harry Potter. We aren't wizards," he informed him curtly. Stark opened his mouth to object. Although he was a man of science, he knew what he had seen. But Stephen was quicker. “We are clearly sorcerers.”

There was the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

He answered some of Tony's questions. With each answer came more questions, but they were surprisingly genuine. Stark was an attentive listener and Stephen found himself telling more than first intended. No secrets of the order, Vishanti no, but Stark's visit lasted longer than he had expected.

They ended up on the roof of the Sanctum.

One, Stephen didn’t trust Stark anywhere near the relics yet. Two, it was a warm day and the roof had a nice view. And the sun did good to his hands.

He found himself invested in the conversation with Stark, especially when they started discussing pros and cons of advanced technology versus magical healing.

Until they got interrupted by a voice coming from Stark’s pocket.

“Boss.”

Stephen paused, confused for a moment while Tony pulled his Starkphone out of his pocket.

“What’s the stitch, Fri?”

“There has been an emergency situation rising in the north. Captain Rogers is assembling the Avengers.”

The voice was clearly artificial, but not generic robotic, Stephen noticed.

“Tell them, I’m on my way,” Stark told his AI. Looking back to Strange he added, “Sorry, doc, seems like we have to cut our date short.”

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow at this comment, but let it slide. “Do you need backup?” he asked instead.

“No, we got this. But you’re welcome to tag along and watch, if you want.” He winked at him as he walked to the edge of the roof and jumped onto the coping. He was surprisingly agile.

Tony tapped on his chest and the nanobots bled over his body, also integrating the phone he was still holding in his hand.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

Those were Tony's last words before the nanobots closed off his face. He dropped backwards and two seconds later he flew through the sky of New York.

Stephen's eyes followed him until he disappeared between the skyscrapers. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued and maybe a little bit turned on. Stark knew how to make an exit.

And Stephen had a feeling that this wasn't the last time he’d seen Tony.

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megapwnus · 1 year

Text

Lectures Can be a Love Language, or Didn't You Know?

Summary: Megatron insists on lecturing Rodimus over the smallest things. Why does he care if Rodimus makes split-second decisions and endangers himself, anyway? Just because there's no longer any venom in their relationship doesn't mean Rodimus loves the guy. Right? Right?! Drift is hell-bent on finding out.

Relationships: Megatron/Rodimus; Ratchet/Drift; Drift & Rodimus (with ambiguous past)

Rating: All/General Audiences

Setting: IDW1, post-Lost Light, “good timeline”

Link to Chapter 1: The Lecture Nonsense & the Nonsense Lecture

Preview under the cut:

“Rodimus,” Megatron began, sounding half-incredulous, half-long suffering. Oh, here we go, Rodimus thought, already resorting to huffing and fixing his optics somewhere in the direction of the captain’s office ceiling.

“Could you have BEEN any more obvious?!” The last word was delivered in a nasal tone as Megatron pinched at the bridge of his hooked nose, oblivious or uncaring to his garbled formants. It would have been funny were Rodimus’s competencies were not under attack. Actually, scratch that, it was still pretty funny, thought Rodimus. It wasn’t really befitting Megatron’s warlord or newfangled placid, unflappably pax cybertronica captain aesthetic, Rodimus thought, but held his tongue for now. He had his honor to defend, and his processor decided that was the priority here. For now, anyway.

“Megatron,” Rodimus mocked, blocking up his own nasal vents and employing a somber tone. “Obviously, I could have been less obvious. I was not up to date as to where this fell along the infamous obviousness necessity continuum, however, and given the degree of obviousness-ness I chose to employ, I thought that was quite clear, actually. Obvious, even. Do at least try to keep up.” He leveled Megatron with a pitying look that would have been much more effective had he not been craning his neck upward, helm almost flush with his chassis, but that was neither here nor there, of course. When you’re bright red-and-yellow and loud enough, you’re as big as you slag-well wanna be, Rodimus reassured himself.

He heard the telltale sound of Megatron grinding his dentae. Oh, what music to his audial receptors it was. Their verbal sparring was always nearing the end of its swiftly aborted lifespan whenever that little chime went off. Like clockwork, Rodimus thought. Whirl would be proud. In fact, maybe he would mention it to him later at Swerve’s…

“Fine,” Megatron grated. “I would like you to note, however, that should a situation like this arise in the field again, I would prefer to be… kept abreast of your decision-making.” The disapproving yet completely resigned glint in his optics seemed almost fond, Rodimus decided. Yes, definitely fond.

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tatatatatara · 6 months

Note

14, 18, and 20 for Tatara?

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

The "I barely recovered from being homeless for my whole life so I still have the habit of wearing anything available" aesthetic.

No but like I think he really doesn't care for fashion. But I believe his favorite item is leather jacket, he has it in black, white and red (for special occasions). His other go-to items are tank top or turtleneck shirt.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Houji

The relationship that occupies my brain the most is with Tomoe but I make up mostly everything about it so... I'll go with Eto. They are girl besties/siblings/partners in crime to me. Like they are two broken orphans who fell in the pit of despair but somehow they have absolute trust for each other I think it's beautiful. I would have ship it if Eto shows some kind of interest for Tatara, but she didn't (imo) and I love Tatara too much to let him have a one-sided love (already canon) so I don't ship them romantically.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Take and Yomo.

Two silent guys who are bad at expressing themselves but good at listening? Yomo who lost his big sibling? Take who did everything to earn an empty praise from Arima? Those three would get along (sitting together and saying nothing like that one omake scene of Take and Arima)

#thanks for the ask!!!

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Thirteen.

Big thank you for all the feedback on this, guys! I know these chapters are difficult, so I appreciate you all for sticking with it. 25 notes are needed to unlock the next one. Y’all know what to do!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Words - 4,756

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Hey, brother,” Bishop greeted Angel with at his front door, hugging him tightly, Taza doing the same as he stepped inside. “How’s she doing? And you, too.”

They all sat down, Angel sighing, rubbing his forehead with his thumb. He looked exhausted. “She’s sleeping, finally. Relented and took a pill, even though she was scared to do so. Every time she fell asleep without them last night, she had nightmares, woke up screaming, so she was scared that if she took one, she might dream and not be able to wake up. She’s been out for around six hours, though, and so far so good. As for me, tired, but this ain’t about me. It’s all about her right now.”

The men nodded, Bishop pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one up. “Take as much time as you need, to be with her, until she starts feeling better. We have things handled. We’re gonna find who did this, but I can’t let it take over us entirely, Angel. We have too much heat with the cartel, too much shit there to give this our full focus, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t gonna find the guy who did this, because we will.”

“Guy’s, plural,” Angel corrected. “It was three of them.”

Their faces crumpled in the wake of hearing that. “What the...” Bishop began, shaking his head. Taza sat stony, shaking his head slowly. Three... the idea of one was bad enough, but three? “Did she get a look at any of ‘em?”

Angel sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Nope, all wore balaclavas. All she could tell was two were white and one was black, and the black guy had gold grills on his teeth. That was it.”

“I don’t wanna be that guy who makes assumptions on race or aesthetics, but what do you think? Banger?”

He shrugged. “Could just be some dude into hip hop culture, who the fuck knows? She didn’t really give me much to go on, the car they drove was dark red or purple, and she thought Chevrolet. Ain’t no CCTV cameras out on the streets, but she thinks it happened by the food warehouse, I presume it was Delgado’s, it’s the only one on that street which borders an alleyway.”

Bishop nodded. “We’ll call in there on our way back, see if they have CCTV looking into the alleyway, get the footage from the previous night and run it back, see if we can find anything of use.”

Angel was quiet for a few moments, before something hit him like a bolt of lightning, information that hadn’t immediately penetrated his thinking when it had been relayed to him by Lily in the early hours. “Her phone. They took her phone.” He shot out of his seat, entering the bedroom quietly, retrieving his phone and coming back out. “I can’t fucking believe I didn’t think of this before. She’s always losing her damned phone, usually leaving it in her car or losing it down the couch cushions.”

He opened the find my iPhone app, clicking on Lily’s device details, waiting for the screen to load. If they’d taken her phone with them, of course, it’d show them exactly where her attackers were. The map loaded, Angel sighing. “Fuck.” Bishop and Taza looked expectant. “The map is showing it’s still close to the same place they grabbed her. They probably threw it into a dumpster or down the drain or something. Either way, they don’t have it.”

Just then, they were joined by Lily, looking very sleepy still, buttoning up the red and black plaid shirt of Angel’s she’d borrowed when she realised they had company. It was horrible, watching her limping over to them. She looked so broken, both physically and mentally, her face drained of anything resembling her usual sparkle.

“Hey sweetheart, how’d you sleep?” Bishop asked, relieved to see her looking much less traumatised than she had, but sad when he took in her bruised, swollen face, and her legs that looked like she’d been kicked by an angry mule.

“I think I’m still half there,” she spoke, a small smile tilting her lips as he reached for her fingers, giving them a soft squeeze which she reciprocated.

“Can I give you a gentle hug?” Maggie had told him of her injuries when she’d arrived home, Bishop lying there in bed feeling horrified to hear the details, as naturally anyone with a heart would. She nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist when he stood. “We’ll find them, we will. They won’t get away with what they did.” he promised, kissing atop her head, Lily looking up and nodding.

“I know. Thank you.” She reached up and kissed his cheek, moving to greet Taza, who hugged her with equal gentleness, Lily closing her eyes, breathing in his scent. When she’d been all alone in the dark of her trauma, it had been him to find her and lead her back out. What he’d done for her, it had been everything her poor, traumatised state hadn’t known she needed, but those actions, his words, they’d been instrumental in helping her realise she was safe. “Thank you for looking after me. I love you.” she whispered, stroking his cheek.

He kissed her forehead fondly. “I love you too, Lilypad.” Sitting down again, he was surprised when she took a seat beside him, lifting his arm and winding it around herself, resting her head against his chest. He cuddled her, smiling sadly, Angel viewing the scene and feeling a little glimmer of relief. At least she still trusted some men in the wake of what had happened to her. Then again, he saw clearly that Taza had become like a father to her, and after suffering something so horrific, something she needed was the closest thing she had to a dad to comfort her. He was most definitely that.

“I know you might not want to talk about it, or relive it any more than you likely already are, but is there anything else you can tell us about the guys, baby? Angel relayed to us what you explained to him, but the more we have to go on, the better the chances we have of finding them quickly. If you can’t, that’s okay. Everything in your own time.”

They were there to help her, she knew that, and she knew no matter how scary it was to relive it, she had to think hard, to give them something, anything. Those guys, they were walking around out there without a single care, free to do it again to another woman. She couldn’t let that happen if she could help it.

She tried, attempting to focus, pull something from her memory, but her body put a stop to it when a huge shiver ripped through her, curling tighter against Taza, who stroked her hair in soothing. “Stop, it’s too much. You’re not ready yet, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

He tutted softly, two other sets of dark, sympathetic eyes upon her thinking exactly the same words that Taza spoke to her. “Don’t you ever say that again, because you’ve nothing to be sorry for at all, alright?” She nodded, sighing. They didn’t stay much longer, needing to carry on with club affairs after doing to negotiate the handing over of the CCTV footage they needed, Angel sending Taza a screenshot of the location of Lily’s phone, so he could look around and retrieve it for her.

It was brought back to her later that evening by EZ, Jodie with him, her friend bursting into tears as soon as she saw Lily, rushing to where she was on the sofa and bundling her in a careful hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. Oh my god, look what they did, those bastards. I love you so much.” she cried softly, Angel jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen, leaving the girls to talk among themselves.

“How’s she doing?” EZ asked, taking the beer his brother offered.

“Up and down,” Angel began, sitting at the small table. “She ain’t her right now, not at all. Doesn’t talk much, keeps breaking down, wants to be asleep a lot so she don’t gotta deal with it, but equally is terrified of it in case she has a nightmare, like she did last night. And then there’s all the pain she’s in. Even with painkillers, she winces, cries out sometimes, can’t really get comfy. It’s... fuck. It’s fucked up, man. They fucking literally ripped her apart. They tore all the petals off of my Lily.”

EZ reached for his arm, squeezing tightly, Angel’s analogy about torn petals hitting him hard in the chest. “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word. You guys alright for groceries and all that? Does Lily have everything she needs?”

He was touched by the concern shown by his brother, Angel thinking on it. “We’re fine for everything, but I guess Lily could probably do with more clothes.” He then thought on it more. “I know it’s a big ask, but could you take the van to her place and bring Charlie back here? His cage is enormous, it won’t fit in Jodie’s car. I’d go over there and get him myself, but I can’t leave her. She goes into panic if she can’t see or hear me. I went for a piss in the early hours of this morning and she had a full-on meltdown to have woken up without me there.”

“Yeah, I’ll go back to the clubhouse as soon as we leave and get in the van, take Jodie up there with me.”

Angel’s lips thinned a little. “Do that, but don’t count of her being of help trying to get Charlie out. He don’t like her. He’s fussy, but he can be bribed with snacks, grapes and trail mix are his favourites. Just tap your shoulder and he should jump right out, but have a second person there with a towel to grab him and put him into his carry bag. Also, don’t get the carry bag out right away because if he sees it, he’ll refuse to leave the cage. He’ll think you’re taking him to the vet, which he hates.”

EZ nodded, wishing in that moment that Lily had a dog. Dogs were easier than the parrot with attitude in shades he’d heard plenty about. He’d do it without question, though, roping in the efforts of a third, Jodie getting a list from Lily of stuff she wanted her to bring back before they left. Within the hour, they’d gotten the van sorted, found a third semi-willing person to help, and were within Lily’s apartment, EZ trying his best with a very reluctant Charlie.

“You want this? Come on, come out and get it,” he spoke to the bird softly, Charlie pacing, unimpressed at the presence of one person he didn’t like, and two he didn’t even know.

“Mama!”

“I’m going to take her to you, she’s at Angel’s place.”

“Bro time!”

“Yeah, but you have to come out first. Come on,” he further encouraged, Charlie stepping nearer, eyeing the piece of grape EZ held. Just when he thought he was about to take it... “Son of a!” he exclaimed, pulling his hand away, Charlie whistling and shouting in triumph for having taken a chunk out of EZ’s hand.

“Yo, that bird means business, homes,” Coco spoke, towel draped over his shoulder, ready to try and grab him once EZ had him out... not that he expected such to happen quickly.

“Fuck you!”

“Yeah, fuck you too for biting me!” EZ exclaimed softly, sucking his bloodied finger, Charlie now in full on, nonsensical jabbering mode, pacing his cage angrily.

Coco looked on with wide eyes “He sounds possessed!” he neared the cage, his mouth comically downturned, grabbing the trail mix box and shaking it. “Hey, homeslice! You want this?”

“Mama!”

“Yeah, we gotta take you to where she’s at, man! Come on, Charlie, come get your eats.” He took the lid from the Tupperware box, holding it out, Jodie sitting back on the couch, trying not to laugh. The bird neared the open cage door, side stepping with caution, eyeing the two men suspiciously. He leaned over, head near the box, Coco swapping the hand holding it and putting his arm by the door, slowly moving the food away, Charlie finally stepping onto his arm. “Get the towel, but slow, man, so he don’t get suss.”

As soon as EZ moved, Charlie suddenly flew at him, biting his arm and hand again. Because he had wing damage from a previous botched job at clipping one of his wings in his previous home (Lily had gotten him as a rescue) he couldn’t fly far, and only in a circle, but that did nothing to stop him escaping across the room and hiding beneath a table, jabbering angrily, shouting fuck on repeat before slipping away underneath the couch.

“Well, he’s out of the cage,” Jodie shrugged.

“You might not want to look so entertained by all of this, honey,” EZ spoke, narrowing his eyes at her, smiling eventually when she blew him a kiss and stood up.

“Jodie, you lift the other end of the couch, EZ, you grab him,” Coco asserted.

EZ grasped his kutte, raising his eyebrows. “I think Charlie has made it clear that I’m not his favourite person. Here, I’ll take the couch, you grab the bird.”

“Aw, hell, man!” It made sense, though, he supposed, since Charlie had actually come to him in the first place. Grabbing the towel, he crouched down, Jodie and EZ grasping the couch and lifting, Coco impressed that EZ’s girl was stronger than she appeared, quickly diving at Charlie and managing to secure him within the hug of the dark blue towel. “Bag! Get the damned bag!”

Jodie put her end of the sofa down, pulling out his travel bag from the shelf beneath the huge cage, unzipping it, Coco carefully and quickly stuffing him in there, the towel too before she zipped it, Charlie making angry sounds of protest from within. Coco pulled out his phone, about to send Angel a message with the news that the bird had been secured, seeing another message from him, cringing a little.

“What?” EZ asked, nodding at his phone.

“Ahh, Angel messaged me. He said if he’s being difficult to put on oven mitts, stop him from being able to bite.”

He was incredulous in the face of this information. “And you’re telling me that now, after the little bastard bit me three times?”

Coco grinned a little nervously. “My bad!”

With Jodie carrying a disgruntled Charlie in one hand, a bag of Lily’s things over her shoulder and Charlie’s day perch in the other, the guys followed her out, each at one end of the huge cage, wondering how to negotiate the narrow staircase with it, since Lily’s apartment block didn’t have an elevator.

“I swear, if you tell me to pivot, I will fucking end you, bro.” Coco spoke as they turned, bringing the top down so it didn’t hit the light.

“I’m not Ross Geller and this isn’t a couch, so you’re good.” EZ laughed, Coco bracing his shoulder against the frame as they carefully turned and took the next flight of stairs. Thank fuck Lily only lived on the third floor.

The effort was worth it when they arrived at Angel’s, setting up the cage while Jodie handed Charlie over, Lily undoing the zip fastener of his bag, the bird scampering out. “Mama! Mama, mama, mama!” he called repeatedly with joy, bouncing up her arm.

“Hey honey, hey. I missed you so much, yes, I did,” she cooed softly, Charlie settling upon her chest. It was the first time Angel had seen her actually smile properly, and in that moment, he knew he’d done right by requesting for Charlie be brought over. “Any issues?” she asked, stroking under his wing as he clicked his beak happily.

“Angel’s message about the oven mitts wasn’t read in time to prevent him biting me,” EZ began side eyeing Coco, “but it’s all good. You got band aids, Angel?”

Angel snorted softly, sitting down next to Lily. “Hurts, don’t it?”

“That beak is like a razor.”

His eyes widened, pointing across his apartment. “Bathroom cupboard.” Once he’d gotten himself patched up, the three left, Lily thanking them for their efforts, changing into her pyjamas that Jodie had brought over for her and taking a seat on the couch. She was a little fuzzy headed from the second painkiller dose, but still very sore between her legs.

“Do you wanna rest your legs up on me? Would that help?”

She was touched as ever by his concern and willingness to help. However, what she needed him to help her with, she truly didn’t want to ask.

“It’s because I need a pee, and I’m too scared to go and take one. It burns so much,” she confessed, Angel a little confused.

“We got numbing cream, though?” He’d fetched it out of the bathroom cupboard specifically so it would be there for her to use. He couldn’t help but note the stark contrast, though. Usually, it would be used by him to numb the end of his dick to the point where he could rail her around the bedroom for hours. Never once did it think it would be used for what it now sat there in wait of.

Lily looked uncomfortable, blinking rapidly, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “I know, but I can’t. I don’t want to... can’t touch myself, to put it on. I just...” she shook her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

She didn’t even need to ask the question. “Do you want me to put it on for you?”

She nodded, Angel picked Charlie up, putting him on his day perch and then taking her hand, leading her to the bathroom. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to see. It feels bad, so I can’t even imagine how it looks. It’ll likely put you off ever going back down there again for life.” she muttered, her voice shaking, Angel stopping her, wrapping her in a careful hug.

“Don’t you ever, ever think that. Alright?” he began, stroking her face lovingly. “I love you, every last inch of you, whether broken or not, every part of you to me is beautiful, and nothing changes that.” She nodded, walking to the toilet and closing the lid, taking her pj bottoms off while Angel washed his hands thoroughly. He braced himself, for what he was likely to see, but once he got level with the mess she’d been left in... nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, applying the cream, feeling like his insides were tearing in two. Seeing it, what they’d done, it made it even more real.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby,” Lily soothed, watching him unable to hold the tears back.

“No, no it isn’t,” he sniffed, Lily pulling him up as she stood, putting her arms around him as he cried on her shoulder. “I can’t break down! I have to be the strong one, be there for you! None of it is okay, seeing it up close, what they fucking did to you. What they did, fuck! Fuck!” he continued to cry, anger flooding him. “They will die in pain, this I fucking promise you, sweet pea. Horrific fucking agony for daring to put you through that.”

“Shhh, I know, I know. And this affects you as well, it isn’t just me. I want to be here for you in all of this, too,” she soothed, hands rubbing his back.

“Nah, nah. I gotta fucking man up, I can’t fall apart.” He took a deep breath, pulling back, drying his eyes on the back of his hand. Lily knew then that this is how he had to deal with it, get over all the emotions that had been stirred by what had happened to her; he had to be the strong one, the pillar, the protector.

“And you’re what’s getting me through, you are,” she stated emphatically. “It’s okay for it to be too much at times, though, and I want you to remember that, alright?”

He nodded, kissing her head, turning to rinse his hands again before his fingertips went numb, Lily turning and sitting back down to take a pee with a relieved sigh; she didn’t feel a thing. If only numbing cream would be applied to her heart and mind, where she felt everything entirely too sharply. Heading back to the lounge, she lay against him on the couch, the comfort of her blanket that Jodie had brought too swathing them both, having another little cry against his chest.

Gladly, she dozed off, but it wasn’t for long, being awoken from nightmares to the sound of her own screams, Angel rushing from the kitchen to wrap her in his arms, the only place she truly felt safe. As long as he held her, nothing bad could happen. No one could ger to her. Once again, she lay against his chest, stroking the smooth skin, the scent of him making her feel comforted.

After she’d settled, they sat and ate dinner, Lily only really picking at the plate of chicken and vegetables before her, her appetite extremely diminished. He didn’t press about it. She’d eat when she was hungry. By the third day after her ordeal, though, with her only nibbling at rice crackers and granola bars, he started to become concerned.

“Protein shakes,” Maggie began, after she’d returned his call once done seeing a patient. “Long term they aren’t ideal, but at least you’ll be getting calories into her. How’s she doing today?”

“Those I can do, I have about five different types of protein powder here. As for how she’s doing, still up and down. She had a mute day yesterday, just sat there staring, I couldn’t reach her at all. This morning she’s been a little chattier, though. She put Charlie in his harness and took him outside just now, so she’s getting better about me not always having to be so close by. There’s no way she’s ready to be left by herself yet, though. She’s still too emotional.”

“What did you say to explain her absence at work, and the gym?” she asked, rifling through her desk drawer for her aspirin. She had a headache, Cady keeping her awake for most of the night, this time convinced her wardrobe was a time machine, and she was going back to ‘lay siege on the bad men!’ as she’d put it, her toy guns and sword strapped to her. Bishop had taken over at 3:30am once he’d arrived home.

“That she was beaten up and robbed, and didn’t get a look at the guys. In the interests of not too many people asking questions, that’s what we’re telling everyone other than close friends, making it look like it sadly can’t be solved. Mentioning rape brings up all the DNA shit, plus the fact Lily doesn’t want a bunch of people knowing either. She’s ashamed, poor thing.” His shoulders dropped as he sighed, the movement doing little to counteract the tension he felt. It was tough, looking after a rape victim, exhausting, if he was honest, but it wasn’t about him or what he felt, and he’d never make complaint. He had to be there for her, for everything she needed.

“Well, Obispo has been looking into it in his own time, even used Josh’s copy of Photoshop to see if he could get a anything clearer from the CCTV footage. Nothing as yet, though. With balaclavas, they’re just not easily distinguished.” Maggie lamented, Angel feeling something pull in his chest, that his president had done such for them. It was a gesture he’d be sure to show his gratitude over. With the car being a stolen vehicle, they had very, very little to go on, and it made Angel feel useless, especially since any noises at night made Lily stir and immediately think it was them, coming back to do it all over again.

They’d ruled out any retaliation from the cartel (absolutely not their style) or other clubs (Lily would have been given a message if it had of, they would have been told the direction it had come in and why) so that left them with very few leads. He saw how much it haunted her, too, hanging over her constantly as she tried to piece her life back together in the wake of it.

A week after it had happened, she finally felt okay with the idea of leaving the house, Angel taking her down to the clubhouse, where she had many big hugs from many big guys waiting for her upon her arrival. Like normal, there was one she gravitated towards, seating herself on the couch, Taza taking hold of her hand.

“How’s my champ?”

Her sigh of lamentation answered his question before she’d even spoke. “Shit. I still can’t sleep properly unless I take the pills, and they make me feel so groggy after I’ve woken up that I don’t like relying on them. At least I’m starting to heal, though, wounds wise. Everything is a little less sore than it was. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to go on after all of this. The idea of going back to work, or being anywhere Angel isn’t, and I just start trembling and can’t stop. Even here, with you guys, who I all love and trust, I don’t quite feel right.”

Taza was thoughtful for a few moments. “Would a support group help, perhaps? For you to sit and discuss it with other women who have gone through the same ordeal as yourself?”

Her eyes immediately widened, startled at the very idea. “No, no. I can’t talk about it. I told Angel what happened and that’s the last time I ever want to explain it.” She paused, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t mean for that to come out as sharply as it did.”

He cocked his head, hand squeezing hers in return. “Like I’ve told you so far, you don’t have to ever say a single thing about it if you’re not ready to. I just thought perhaps, and you wouldn’t even need to go into detail over what happened, women who had experienced it as well could share advice on how to cope, to be able to carry on in the wake of it. If you don’t want to, though, then no one will force you into it.”

It had been a big step for her to leave the house, let alone go anywhere that wasn’t a place she was familiar with. She knew Taza was merely trying to help, and his words did sink in a little, Lily wondering if maybe it might be a good idea eventually, when she was feeling up to it. She knew she had to go back to as much of a normal existence as possible sooner or later, and give Angel back his life as well, since she still couldn’t deal with the idea of him not being close to her. The previous morning, she’d awoken to an empty bed, flying into blind panic when she hadn’t been able to find him in the house, only for him to step back through the front door after going out to do a simple repair on his bike. It had taken her a whole hour to calm down again.

Such were her feelings of unease, she was only able to stay for a further hour, starting to panic when a few hangers on turned up at the clubhouse, people she didn’t recognise, bolting through the bathroom door and locking herself in when a couple of other Mayans from Yuma showed up unexpectedly. It took Angel twenty minutes to coax her back out again.

“You must be tired of this,” she sighed, once they’ve arrived back at his.

He put his arms around her, kissing her hair. “Never, you understand? However long this takes, I’m gonna get you through it. We’re in this together, you hear?”

She did, but she knew that in order to get through it, she’d need to eventually stop seeing him as her security blanket.

Such was much easier said than done.

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