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ailuronymy · 3 years

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do you think every disabled character in wc is handled poorly? i understand theres def some cases of ableism but at the same time when i hear ppl say that its usually bc the disabled cat wasnt able to become a warrior due to their disability. and i feel like ppl forget, that not everyone irl CAN do what they want after they become disabled. ex. someone wants to be an athlete, but their legs have to be amputated. a cat like briarlight esp i feel is p realistic and could be a source of comfort

Hello there, thank you for writing in. I’m going to reply to this question with a series of questions I think are a bit more useful, given what you’re trying to ask me. I hope that’ll clarify what is a deeply complex, multilayered issue.

Do I think Erin Hunter handles anything in the series “well”? Not really. I don’t have a high opinion of the work of the collective and, broadly speaking, I think every right note they play, metaphorically speaking, is an instance of chance rather than effort, skill, or intention. Stopped clocks are right twice a day, mediocre writers will sometimes do something cool by accident, similar principle. That’s not to say Erin Hunter hasn’t ever done anything on purpose--just that overall the underlying drive of the series isn’t so much quality as it is quantity, and speed of production, and it shows.

Do I think Erin Hunter puts any significant research into how they portray disability? No. I do not think it is a priority for this series. They’re not trying to make a meaningful work of literature, or capture a realistic experience of disability, or tell especially impactful or thoughtful stories, or even make a particularly good or coherent fantasy world. Warriors is a specifically commercial product that was commissioned by HarperCollins to appeal to a particular demographic of drama-loving, cat-loving kids. It’s not really trying to do anything but sell books, because it’s a business, so the text in many ways reflects that. They’re not going for disability representation, in my opinion. They’re including disability in many cases as a plot-point or an obstacle.

Do I think this means that people can’t connect to these characters and narratives in meaningful ways? No. Often I say that a work is completed only when it is read. Before that point, it doesn’t have a meaning: a reader finishes the work through the act of reading, and interpretation, and filling in the spaces and resonance of the story with their own values and experiences. When people talk about subjectivity, this is what they are talking about. What this means in the context of disabled characters in Warriors is that these characters and their stories can be multiple, conflicting, even mutually exclusive things at the same time, to different people, for different reasons.

Do I think characters have to be “good” to be significant to someone? No. I think genuinely “bad” (i.e., not researched or poorly researched, cliche, thoughtlessly written, problematic, etc. etc.) characters can be deeply meaningful, and often are. Ditto above: for many people, and especially marginalised or stigmatised people, reading is almost always an act of translation, wherein the person is reading against the creative work of the dominant culture in a way that the author likely didn’t intend or didn’t even imagine. There’s a long documented history of this in queer culture, but it’s true for just about everyone who is rarely (or unfairly) represented in media. Disabled people often have to read deeply imperfect works of fiction featuring disability and reinterpret them in the process--whether to relate to a kind of disability they don’t experience themselves but which is the closest they’re offered to something familiar, or to turn positive and meaningful what is intended as narrative punishment, or simply to create what’s commonly called headcanon about “non-disabled” characters who echo their personal experiences.

Do I think everyone has to agree? Extremely no. As I said before, people will actually always disagree, because all people have different needs and different experiences. What can be interpreted as empowering to one person might be very othering and painful for another. There is no “right” answer, because, again, that is how subjectivity works. This is especially true because marginalised communities are often many different kinds of people with different lives and needs brought together over a trait or traits they share due to the need for solidarity as protection and power--but only in a broad sense. It’s why there is often intracommunity fighting over representation: there isn’t enough, there’s only scraps, and so each person’s personal interpretation can feel threatening to people whose needs are different. You can see examples of this especially when it comes to arguments over character sexuality: a queer female character might be interpreted as bisexual by bisexual people who relate to her and want her to be, while being interpreted as lesbian by lesbians who also relate to her and want her to be like them. Who is correct? Often these different interpretations based on different needs are presented as if one interpretation is theft from the other, when in fact the situation is indicative of the huge dearth of options for queer people. It becomes increasingly more intense when it comes to “canon” representations, because of the long history of having to read against the grain I mentioned above: there’s novelty and, for some people, validation in “canon” certainty. And again, all of this is also true for disabled people and other stigmatised groups.

Do I think this is a problem? Not exactly. It is what it is. It is the expected effect of the circumstances. Enforced scarcity creates both the need for community organising and solidarity and the oppressive pressure to prioritise one’s self first and leave everyone else in the dust (or else it might happen to you). The system will always pit suppressed people against each other constantly, because it actively benefits from intracommunity fighting. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these, and so on. A solution is absolutely for everyone in community to hold space for these different needs and values, and to uplift and support despite these differences, but it’s not anyone’s fault for feeling threatened or upset when you don’t have much and feel like the thing that you do have is being taken away. It’s a normal, if not really helpful, human response. But until people learn and internalised that the media is multifaceted and able to be many things at once, without any of those things being untrue or impacting your truth of the text, then there will be fighting.

Do I think my opinion on disability on Warriors is all that important? No, not really. I can relate to some characters in some moment through that translation, but my opinion on, say, Jayfeather is nowhere near as worthy of consideration than that of someone who is blind. I don’t have that experience and it’s not something I can bring meaningful thinking about, really. That’s true for all these characters. If you want to learn about disability, prioritise reading work about disabled rights and activism that is done by disabled people, and literary criticism from disabled people. And as I mentioned above, remember that community isn’t a monolith: it’s a survival tactic, that brings together many different people with disparate experiences of the world. So research widely.

Finally--do I think there’s only one kind of disabled narrative worth telling? No. For some people, a disabled character achieving a specific, ability-focused dream is a good story. For other people, a story that acknowledges and deals with the realities, and limitations, of disability is a good story. The same person might want both of those stories at different times, depending on their mood. That’s okay. Sometimes there’s power and delight in a fantasy of overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles and defying all expectations. Sometimes there’s value and catharsis in a narrative that delves into the challenges and grief and oppression experienced because of disability. There’s no one truth.

To round all this off, I’m going to give my favourite example of this, which is Cinderella. I think it’s a great and useful tool, since for many it’s familiar and it’s very simple. Not much happens. In the story, she is bullied and tormented, until a fairy godmother gifts her over several nights with the opportunity to go to a royal ball, where she dances with a prince. The prince eventually is able to find Cinderella, due to a shoe left behind, and they are married. In some versions, the family that mistreated her are killed. In others, they’re forgiven.

Some people hate the story of Cinderella, because she is seen as passive. She tolerates the bullying and never fights back. She does every chore she’s told. She is given an opportunity by a fairy godmother, and she doesn’t help herself go to the ball. She runs from the prince and he does the work to find her again. Eventually, she’s married and the prince, presumably, keeps her in happiness and comfort for the rest of her life.

For some, this story is infuriating, because Cinderella doesn’t “save herself”: she is largely saved by external forces. She is seen as a quintessential damsel-in-distress, and especially for people who have been bullied, infantalised, or made to feel less capable or weak, that can be a real point of personal pain and discomfort.

However, for some others, Cinderella is a figure of strength, because she is able to endure such hostile environments and terrible people and never gives up her gentle nature or her hope. She never becomes cruel, or bitter. She is brave in daring to go outside her tiny, trapped world, and she is brave to let the prince find her. She doesn’t have to fight or struggle to earn her reward of happiness and prove her worth, because she was always deserving of love and kindness. The prince recognises at once, narratively speaking, her goodness and virtue, and stops at nothing to deliver her a better life.

Depending on the version, the wicked family disfigure themselves for their own greed--or are punished, which for some is a revenge fantasy; or Cinderella forgives them and once again shows her tenacious kindness, which for others is a different revenge fantasy.

The point? Cinderella is the same character in the same story, but these are almost unrecognisable readings when you put them side-by-side. Which one is right? Which one is better? In my opinion, those are the wrong questions. I hope this (long, sorry) reply is a set of more useful ones.

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

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Merit Based System

This is a bit all over the place. Sorry about that. I watched a show this weekend that really illustrates why I no longer believe in Edelgard's system after her support with Ferdinand.

Spoilers for Fire Emblem Three Houses CF route and Edelgard & Ferdinand's support and the show Segodon up to episode 8.

Segodon is a taiga drama that retells the life of historical figure Saigo Takamori a. k. a. the last samurai. This man was a brilliant politician and played an instrumental role in Japan's tumultuous 1800s where they overthrew the shogun and instated a modern government. The show itself is absolutely fantastic so far (though, I love anything to do with the Bakumatsu, no, that's a lie, there's some real shitty Bakumatsu anime.).

Like the real life Saigo, the fictional representation has a lot of "merit." As the show writes him, he has a high level of empathy for people who are hurting because of Japan's horrible, outdated systems and is constantly does whatever is in his power to convince the powers that be to back off a bit because their taxes and punishments are so harsh at times, his native Satsuma was at serious risk of starving its entire agricultural force out of work.

Not only is Saigo intelligent, but he's also tenacious. He "dares" to ask his "betters" to see the errors of their way, goes out of his way to try and get audiences with people far above his station, and does everything he possibly can to help everyone around him. Whether he's tackling problems with a larger system or a hurting individual around him, he's trying his best to make things right. And when people listen to him, things improve. People are also naturally drawn to his leadership and overall gentle disposition.

He's also broke.

Saigo comes from a very poor, very large family. So when the powers that be grant him an opportunity to travel to Edo (then capital of Japan), where he could get real experience, where he could start rubbing shoulders with the right people and find ways to gain influence, learn, etc . . . He can't. Because his family can't cough up 30 ryo.

No matter how much merit Saigo has, his upbringing keeps him from reaching his full potential. The top leadership of the area invites him to the opportunity of a life time, but even with an open invitation, he can't so easily accept it.

His mother, father, and grandfather had all just died (and this is a historical fact, at least) and left him in charge. The family went into even more debt buying medicine during various illnesses. There's younger and elder family he needs to look out for, a sister who he now needs to find a husband for, and a new wife on top of everything else. They don't have 30 ryo to spare.

No matter how much merit Saigo has, no matter how much he wants to make a difference, he can't. Because he was born into poverty, because he can't afford to step away from the family land or else risk running out of food in the winter. His merit isn't enough. You need privilege. And he's already got privilege in that he wasn't born a farmer, that he has the personal attention of those in charge through connections and channels his family name permitted him, he's already jumped over hurdles others can't - and he still can't take advantage of his merit.

A merit based system benefits those who have and punishes the have nots. All the rich kids with rich parents who don't have to think twice about spending 30 ryo and have servants to take care of the elderly and young in their families. They can take every opportunity so the gap widens even further. Even worse, a merit based system tells the people born poor, born sick, born neurologically divergent, born into an abusive family, born into a historically disadvantaged race/gender/sexuality/etc, etc . . . that it's their fault they're not at the top. That if they just "tried harder" and had "more merit" they could make it. You too could be a billionaire if you just pulled on your bootstraps hard enough, and failure means you didn't try hard enough. And, yes, this is very much happening in our culture today.

That Edelgard didn't even consider something as huge as inequality before starting a war that would kill thousands really shocked me. Her support with Ferdinand exposed just how naive she is and how narrow-minded her world-view and experiences are. If she's going to sacrifice thousands of people for her supposedly better system, I wish she'd put at least some thought into it.

I do not expect a Fire Emblem game to get hyper-political or into nitty-gritty details. Honestly, I wish this support didn't exist. If their A-Support focused just on educational reform or even Ferdinand cementing himself as a actual check/rival to Edelgard, then I'd be more willing to believe she could make a good leader. But, for some reason, they decided to use this support to show how little Edelgard actually thought about her actions despite the dire consequences of them. These details aren't needed. These lines could be completely omitted and let the reader imagine Edegard has the political know-how to actually pull what she wants off. But instead the game went out of it's way to show she doesn't really have a single clue what she's talking about, and I cannot fathom why. This isn't even touching on her admitting it didn't even occur to her that her actions would leave a power vacuum and would need to fill it (like - what -), but that's for another day.

THIS is why I can't get behind Edelgard. Because her merit based system isn't worth all the lives she destroyed in her war. She thinks her ideas are worth everyone that dies, but her ideas aren't well thought out. This episode 8 of Segodon illustrated perfectly why Edelgard's system is a house of cards that will do nothing but pat the nobility and otherwise rich and privileged on the back while blaming farmers and otherwise disadvantaged for their continued poverty because "lack of merit."

I honestly can't express how badly I wish these lines in this support didn't exist. It serves no purpose except to expose Edelgard's lack of forethought and lack of understanding about the lives of the people she's claiming she's making better.

But, yeah, watching this episode just made me think about Edelgard's system and reminded me again of the exact moment I gave up on supporting her war.

(spoiler alert about Segodon: all those people he kept helping scrounge together 30 ryo so he can go to Edo and leaves the lands in charge of his younger brother, and yes, he's going to go down in history, but also . . . prepare for a downer ending if you actually watch this (I mean . . . it's the Bakumatsu). I already know I'm going to cry my fucking eyes out and I haven't even meant this version of Sakamoto Ryoma yet)

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe16 #I just really love segodon so far #man almost all of this is just gushing over saigo lol #and I thought it was SAKAMOTO who was my historical crush #this show is tempting me #but at least i'm not flipping sides #no Hijikata #your gorgeous face will not sway me #besides #we have Katsura on our side #very underrated face

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misswenndy · 3 years

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THE BEAUTY OF DOMINANCE

Owning a submissive, can be one of the most beautiful things a woman can ever own. There is so much potential in owning a submissive male. I say own, within the context of love being the foundation. It’s not a forced ownership, since he wants to be owned, but make no mistake, the true power really does lie in her capable hands. Once a submissive goes down the road of being owned, he feels like he belongs to her. She feels like he is her personal property. This is a bond between them, that only deepens in time.

It really does get to a point where, a submissive male wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than under her complete control. He trusts and loves her so completely, that he surrenders to her in love. He knows any other way to be in life, pales in comparison compared to being totally devoted to her. He dares not disobey, even if disobedience is easy, or even if, he can get away with it without her noticing. A true submissive, will obey for the sake of obeying her. He will have no second thoughts about it, his ego is completely hers to mold. He has become loyal to her authority, and her as a person.

This is why it’s so incredibly important that she understands her power, and does not use it to abuse him. Because she can, easily, abuse him, and many submissive’s will take that abuse for a while, when they should be standing up and saying no. The fault always lies with the abuser, it is her responsibility, and a submissive, should know, that it’s always okay to stand up and say no, when he feels abused. She needs to respect that for the sake of a healthy relationship. She also needs to respect that for the sake of her loving submissive, and to always have an optimal level of willing submission from him at all times. The sheer level of submission that can come from his is on par with bliss.

Once in control, all trust issues disappear, she never has to worry about what he thinks of her, and most importantly, he is always desiring her. She never has to have body insecurity issues, because his tongue is eager to be used at all times of the day, any time she wants to use it. Any where she wants to use. For as long as she wants to use it. This eliminates any kind of guilt she has ever had about sex. It helps her establish her own sexual desire, and to always please herself when she feels the urge. It’s total freedom of female sexuality and expression.

She gets to wear anything she wants, around the house, or out of the house, often, acting single, while keeping her submissive as her owned monogamous pet. She can choose monogamy too, the choice is hers. She understands that he gets no say in her sex life, ever, unless she gives him a say. But, she gets total say in his sex life. He may never even get an erection without her permission. He may never touch his penis ever again without her permission. Or he may be tied down any time the cage comes off, if it comes off.

His ass is hers to smack, spank, or enjoy with a strap-on, anytime. He gets no say in that either. His body is her amusement park, and the sheer joy that she can have exploring his body, even with just her hands and nails, while he squirms can be a delight few women have ever known. She also gets to dress him however she wants to dress him. Many women love feminizing a male because it turns him into one of her accessories, in the same way she once played with dolls. It’s incredibly fun to dress a submissive up and put her personal touch on him, and always have him wearing what she wants. He is hers to own, and he will look owned by her. He gets no say in that, except in vanilla situations that may call for a more masculine look.

But the most interesting part about it, is that vanilla life becomes the play, it is no longer the serious formal identity it used to be, for either of you. You are dominant and submissive, that’s who you really are, and even in the vanilla world, there is that knowing of who owns who. Her ownership of him will always be the forefront of his world, and it will always be her expectation, that he is at her feet on demand, at any time.

The beauty of dominance is that expectation. The expectation that he will endure any and all kinds of sexual tease, that he will give up all sexual rights of his body, and be hers entirely. He accepts her as the authority and as the key to his sex life, and may remain without sexual release for weeks or months or years. His sacrifice is never ignored by her, but accepted with love, and enforced with her power and dominance. She will make sure that he always honors his submission to her by remaining strict.

The beauty of dominance means she never has a worry, fear or doubt about him ever again. This will cause a huge surge in her own confidence as a woman, if she hasn’t discovered her dominance before. Once she has that confidence, she is geared to live the best life she can possibly live, with her submissive loyally at her side, supportive of her decisions, and always helping her succeed. In return, she is his structure in life, she is the missing piece of the puzzle he has always needed, the purpose he has always longed for. That’s the beauty of dominance.

Teach Him!

One very interesting aspect of a FLR, and in particular, of submissive males, is that they are eager to please. Submissive males want to please, it makes them feel good to give pleasure. Especially sexual pleasure, but it doesn’t have to be sexual. They will happily clean the bathroom just to be told they’re a good boy, and win approval or brownie points toward a possible release from chastity. However, most submissives males, while eager to please, are quite clueless on how to go about it. They want to please her their way, in any way they know how. A smart submissive understands he must not only be eager to please, but also, eager to learn.

Lets face it, most males in general, are terrible at eating pussy. If she isn’t on her back shuddering, and grabbing his hair and pulling him closer, moaning while she does it, he’s not doing a good enough job. As his dominant, never be afraid to speak up about it from the get go. Tell him exactly how you want him to improve, tell him what techniques work and also tell him to be creative. When you don’t know what’s coming, sometimes that can bring very intense orgasms. So a sudden change in tongue pattern, or a finger at the right time can make all the difference in the world.

Remember that his orgasms depend upon the quality of your orgasms, so he has every incentive to please you the right way. Give him lots of opportunities to practice, that’s the beauty of having a submissive in the first place, he’s always ready and eager for you. You can quickly teach him to be an oral expert, even if it was an awkward road to getting there, submissives learn quickly if you’re dedicated to teaching them. Before long all you will have to do is lay back and relax while he goes to town, and that’s how it should be. Your pleasure should always be his only focus, that’s just the nature of the relationship.

Don’t just stop at oral though, and especially not at just eating pussy. Keep him chaste long enough, and any inhibitions he ever had about eating ass will disappear like they never existed in the first place. Of course, be healthy about it, but not shy! Teach him how to best perform oral on both areas simultaneously, so that when you’re in the midst of cumming, your back door is being pleasured as well, sending you to new heights of orgasmic bliss. Then you can have him orally service you anywhere, any time you please, and be an expert at it.

But don’t just stop there, teach him so much more, teach him, how to give you massages, feet, back, sensual, soft, with / without oil... Whatever it is you prefer. With tongue, without tongue. Hands only, or tongue only... You get to customize how and what he learns. Teach him to pamper you. Teach him what lotions do, moisturizers, and creams. Teach him to shave you, paint your nails, give you a pedicure. Teach him that your femininity is his priority. And don’t let him ever avoid your period, show him everything about it, teach him how to use a tampon, show him the blood. Get him so comfortable with your period that he never shys away when you talk about it. So that, he can provide you emotional and physical support when you tell him you’re on it. Even to the point where, he knows your cycle as good as you do, and anticipates the little things before it even starts. Teach him everything about you, he’s your submissive, you are his priority, so don’t ever let him get away with slacking off, or avoiding one thing but not another. Teach him so much, that, he is your rock, your confidant, your safe haven, your support, your security, your trust, and your love. Then be all those things for him, because you value his submission to you, and cherish the gift that it is.

The Strap On

One of the biggest kinks in a FLR is the strap on. There are many reasons why they’re so common and popular. They benefit both partners equally in different ways making it the perfect sex toy to have in your kinky collection. However it goes beyond simply being a sex toy, as a strap on can have huge psychological effects as well as physical. It can really enhance the D/s dynamic because its the perfect tool for role reversal.

When a strap on is combined with chastity, some real magic can happen between partners. The longer he is chaste, the more likely he is to crave some sort of anal play, as his prostate gets bigger and more sensitive, craving any kind of stimulation. Even if he doesn’t crave anal play, it is actually healthy for him to have the prostate stimulated, during long lock ups, so it’s for his own good anyway! This is why a strap on can be so much fun. He either craves it, or it is humiliating to him, or both!

This is perfect for a domme as well, as she gets to discover the power of having a penis between her legs, and his moans of pleasure or discomfort, as she begins to thrust into him. This alone, can be an extremely high level of power exchange and very erotic for her. She can take him with her strap on until he is whimpering horny and deep in sub space. There are no concerns about him cumming from the strap on, because this generally requires a lot of time and concentrated effort and technique to achieve. It is possible, if that is what she wants, but she has full control over that. Leaving him horny, makes for an eager tongue after she is finished taking him with the strap on. A tongue in which, she is equally eager for!

The strap on is much more fun than simply just bending him over, there are many ways in which a strap on can be used, which can make it a symbol of her dominance over him. Often, a strap on is bigger than his penis, and she can tease him about that, saying her cock is bigger than his, while taking him with it. Or for even more fun, she could allow him to wear it over his cage, and allow him to have intercourse with her using it. Since its bigger than his own penis, she can tease and say how much better it feels.

She could even go so far as to name her cock, and have her sub respect it, by cleaning it after use. Or sucking it to lube it up. Just looking down into his eyes can give both partners a power exchange rush that creates a strong erotic charge. She can also make him practice his sucking techniques, if she plans on bringing other males into the relationship at some point. Once she has named her strap on, her submissive will have to worship it in the same way he worships her body, because it’s her cock. The psychological effects this can have, can send him deep into subspace, and she can keep him there.

The strap on can also come in very handy as a punishment. Sometimes a submissive just needs a good hard strap on session, ordering him to get the strap on, and bend over on command, can be a powerful technique. Taking him with it often, even when he’s not in the mood, will help him adjust his behavior to understand, it’s not his bum, it’s hers. His resistance to it, will soon drop away, and the strap on will become a symbol of her power.

Perhaps eventually, it may be the only way he is allowed to cum. This can be common if she likes to feminize him, he can literally become the female in the relationship, and cum from anal only, while still caged. There’s so many possibilities with the strap on, including attachments that can provide her stimulation while using it making it even more fun. It’s just one more tool in the femdom box, that she can use to completely dominate and own her submissive in all the ways she’s always wanted. It is all about her, after all.

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hacawijo · 3 years

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Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 2)

Yeah baby, part 2 of a PAINSTAKING close read lol.

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything he uses the shadows to ESCAPE, they are a coping mechanism, appearing at the door to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. It’s interesting that the shadows specifically report on Elain’s whereabouts here and not earlier, as well as later not reporting on Gwyn.

Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” It is not out of line for Rhys to acknowledge that this was stupid. If for no other reason than that it would hurt Lucien if he saw/felt them.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. Which is the mirror to something that Rhys notes in ACOFAS, that they are similar in their darkness. Because Rhys is really the only person Azriel can be himself with, completely, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is unprecedented ground for them and specifically for Azriel. This is the first time Azriel can actually voice ANY of these thoughts out loud, and only because Rhys saw them, he did not bring this concern to Rhys himself. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” Also very not out of line thing to ask. Feyre is the only person Mor has really told about her sexuality, and so to Rhys and co. AND Azriel, nothing about this situation has changed in the past 500 years. The fact that Azriel is able to get over Mor, without that confirmation of her sexuality, because of Elain, is significant I think.

Azriel ignored the question. Hmm yeah, but he can’t keep ignoring this question forever, and that’s another reason he and Elain did NOT kiss in this chapter. He and his family and Mor all need closure regarding their relationship. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Oh boy, I have a lot to say about the number three later on! Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words out loud. NEVER BEFORE DARED TO SPEAK THE WORDS OUT LOUD. This is the first time he’s even verbalizing these thoughts - of COURSE he doesn’t know how to navigate this conversation. This is raw emotion being spewed out right now, enhanced by the unresolved tension from his interaction with Elain.

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” So, he says that his two brothers ARE WITH two of those sisters, which is a way to acknowledge the fact that both people in each pair accepted the bond and that it was a mutually built connection. Then he says “the third was given to another” which is actually really different. He’s saying that Elain was given to Lucien by the Cauldron, suddenly one member of that bond is not an active participant - and this is mostly true! Elain has ignored Lucien diligently, and she hinted about her lack of feelings for him when she asked Feyre why he should be entitled to her affections just because of the cauldron and whatever amends he has made. I don’t like Azriel saying that Elain is something to be given as opposed to a person to be connected to, but I’m not sure exactly what it means that he did that. ANYWAY, Rhys really does supply the word deserve, and we have evidence from earlier in this chapter that essentially proves that Azriel does not believe he deserves Elain, anyway. He is having an argument with Rhys, yes, but it almost feels like he’s arguing with himself.

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him anyway.” (THE ONLY TIME ELAIN’S ACTUAL FEELINGS, ACTIONS ARE CONSIDERED IN THIS DISCUSSION BTW) Also, not that he doesn’t answer Rhys’s question. For Azriel, this isn’t necessarily about what HE deserves in this moment, it’s about what Elain wants. Almost certainly, Azriel DOESN’T believe that he deserves Elain, but he sees the injustice of her being forced to accept a bond with someone for political or spiritual/societal reasons. So while to Rhys it may seem like Azriel is is putting Lucien’s claim down in order to boost his own, I actually think Azriel is trying to distinguish a different issue - Elain’s agency. This same thing happened with Mor and Eris. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS NOT ALL LIKE THAT SITUATION BECAUSE LUCIEN IS NOT ERIS!!! I am not trying to compare their behavior. BUT, Azriel would have dueled Eris for Mor’s agency regardless of whether or not she chose to be with him.

“So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Rhys, I think, misinterpreting Azriel and it’s mostly not Rhys’s fault. Azriel doesn’t communicate well and is not currently communicating well. That being said, I wish he would give Azriel more benefit of the doubt.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t got that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. HE HADN’T PLANNED ANYTHING, this whole conversation is just like a raw nerve.

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” Well come on, now, Rhys, what if she doesn’t want to stay away from him? BE A FEMINIST RHYS, just add, “unless she wants to see you”!

ALSO, DID RHYS TELL FEYRE ABOUT THIS? MY MONEY IS ON NO, AND IF RHYS DIDN’T TELL HER ITS BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S NOT WHOLLY DOING THE RIGHT THING BY ELAIN.

“You can’t order me to do that.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” Another really big sign that this is going to play out Elriel style is the mentioning of the Blood Duel. Chekhov’s gun eh?

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Yes see? He would have done this regardless of Mor’s feelings toward him. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” But hey fun fact Rhys knows that Lucien is almost CERTAINLY not Beron’s son. Interesting to consider in context.

“I’ll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. Again, Azriel is dodging Rhys’s points and is honestly being pretty immature right now, but he hasn’t actually said ANYTHING about an intention to pursue Elain with any of this. Rhys has filled in the blanks, and Azriel has responded to smaller aspects of Rhys’s macro-points with which he finds fault. I think this is also because he knows Rhys is right about a lot of the realities of the situation, but he is in the mood to be contrary right now, so he’s fighting back where he can stomach it.

“I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but Also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. Rhys’s motivations are based entirely on things that have nothing to do with Elain’s feelings, which is sad. But, they’re not insignificant considerations. Though come on dude you did pretty much enable Hybern’s arrival to Prythian by alienating The Spring Court with Feyre’s escape.“So you will leave Elain alone. YES, ALONE, because Elain probably is PRETTY FREAKIN LONELY If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Low. Blow.

Azriel snarled softly.

“Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” I do think this is a really ungenerous description of what was happening downstairs with Elain. Their interaction was careful and consensual, we have painstaking detail to prove that, and it was far from panting/animalistic in action.

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. This is another person taking ANOTHER choice away from Elain. I think she may find out about Rhys doing this and I personally think she’s gonna be rightfully pissed.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.”

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. With Elain, he is SOMETHING. Because he feels things.

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, Further evidence that Azriel never intended to fight Lucien or make a stink over Elain and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

He found it occupied. His shadows had not warned him. I am not sure what it means that his shadows didn’t warn him. It could mean that Gwyn is protected from his shadows/immune to them. It could mean that his shadows wanted him to go see Gwyn - either out of a desire for Azriel to find some peace with her or out of curiosity as to who/what she is?

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here and—“

“It’s fine. I came here to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. They are… wary of her? They’re shy around her?

The young priestess smiled — and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. Some interesting language here and above (glimmering, glow etc.) to do with light, and again a juxtaposition between light and dark. But not a golden light, a colder/silver light.

“Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him.

Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Gaze is definitely a romantically charged word, this is one of the tiny details that makes me unsure about the future nature of their relationship. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. I definitely do not think they are mates. I’m not closing the door on them being romantically involved, I don’t have enough evidence to do that, but I really think that if they were mates, Azriel would have known when he saw her at Sangravah.

Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who’d found her that day at Sangravah. Shades of Cassian’s reactions to Emerie’s wings having been clipped, in ACOFAS. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes I have a lot to say about these teal eyes :) flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” I’ll talk more about this later, but there are a few small moments in the book where it seems like Gwyn might have a crush on Azriel, or some kind of special awareness/interest where he is concerned. I have seen almost no evidence that Az returns those potential feelings, except PERHAPS for the moment where he hears her screech and pays attention. But I think anyone would pay attention if someone screeched? Also he watches reverently as she cuts the ribbon, but that also feels like it would happen regardless of any romantic feelings he might have. But I don’t know for sure!

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. He cares that she not be feeling pain and grief, as he does with anyone he deems good, and that is part of why he offers her the smile, as he clearly says right here. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

“A comfort to every growing child.”

Azriel’s lips twitched. I think her irreverence matches his sense of humor quite well. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow.

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. This shadow is acting totally independent of him. She’s asking a simple question of Azriel at the moment, and he CAN’T hear the music he believes that shadow might be dancing to. Lightsinger evidence, I’d say.

“Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” LOL I will say here that Azriel has to make a lot of conscious effort in this interaction. He makes himself respond in a specific way, which is not language that was used to describe his interactions with Elain earlier in the chapter. This could totally just be because he doesn’t know Gwyn that well, and certainly that’s a big part of it, but I think there’s something to be said for the fact that he is still filtering himself here with Gwyn in the quiet.

Not much better. So he asked, “Did you can the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes, though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.” LOL

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. More glowing-type stuff “Do you sing?” I love Gwyn.

He blinked. It wasn’t everyday that people took him by surprise, but... which is great! Elain surprises him with the headache medicine in ACOFAS, Feyre surprises him with her intuition and tenderness throughout. I think this indicates that they will have a significant relationship regardless of its exact nature. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I am a shadowsinger— it’s not a title that someone just made up.” It’s super-duper interesting that they actually discuss the fact that he’s a shadowsinger. When Feyre meets Azriel, she is curious, but specifically doesn’t ask follow-up questions or for expansion on the ability. Why specifically remind us here that Azriel is a shadowsinger and that Gwyn sings? If not to foreshadow something related to the ability and Gwyn?

She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you though?” She pressed. “Sing?”

Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” I love Gwyn. She is the reason I now realize a lot of what I’ve been doing in my life is irreverence :P

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” I love this so much. Maybe it is romantic, but I think that’s debatable. What’s not debatable is that it’s completely charming.

“What— with you watching?” It’s actually pretty funny that in order to avoid giving a demonstration of something that makes him vulnerable and puts Gwyn in the role of expert he flips it and makes her demonstrate vulnerability while he is the expert. Gwyn might be quite a bit braver than Azriel in some ways.

He nodded.

She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. SEE? Brave. I love Gwyn.

“Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. Distraction is a notable word here. Azriel’s thoughts don’t really ever stray from Elain and his turmoil throughout this interaction, that’s what the word distraction tells us.

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” I sense a lot of compatibility, just, again, not sure it’s romantic.

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. This is another line that I think offers the most evidence for something significant between Gwyn and Azriel. It’s lovely that she has helped to settle something restless in him with the distraction - and I think it’s important to note that it might not have done the same thing had he encountered Emerie or another trainee on the roof. At the same time, maybe it would have. Also love that his shadows like to watch Gwyn. Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence! This all being said, I can’t really think of an SJM romance that is built around a comfort zone. I can think of many friendships that operate that way, but not so much with the romances. There’s usually nervousness and flutters and passion and… restlessness, somewhere in there.

But— sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.

“Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. I love Gwyn.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. This feels VERY much like Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence. His shadows, as this chapter has demonstrated time and again, operate independently of him, and they react to Gwyn’s song. I also think it’s possible that Gwyn is sort of always singing, even when she’s not. Like she glows with song on some level, and that’s what his shadows are reacting to - because I don’t think she’d necessarily actually sing while attempting to cut the ribbon.

He slept as well as could be expected which means pretty much not at all y’all — he makes it clear he never expects to sleep well, but when Azriel returned to the River House to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. How did the necklace get there??? Did Elain really put it there??? Seems like even more evidence that he assumes too much about her understanding of his feelings. Also, though, it seems really rude/OOC for Elain to do that. She gave up very quickly after he gave her a really thoughtful gift. SOMETHING’S FISHY.

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. Important to remember that this is one of the longest nights of the year, which means dusk is coming on later than it was when Nesta attended the evening service weeks/months prior- a service that started almost exactly when seven bells rang the time. It is very well possible that Azriel finds himself at the library as the evening service is happening. The one in which Gwyn sings. If she does have some kind of Lightsinger power in her, it may be that he was lured by that power instead of returning the necklace. Even if they always start at 7, he still arrives exactly at 7. The only point against this surmising that I’ve done is that Clotho led the service which Nesta attended, and yet she is here to greet Azriel. Either I’m wrong and the service is not happening at or around this time, OR the service can take place without Clotho occasionally, and this served the interest of the plot so that Az could speak with someone.

He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?”

Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper. A Solstice gift from you?

Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Yes, it really doesn’t seem super romantic to re-gift a necklace to Gwyn. It just feels sour, if this is the start of a romance between them.

Why?

“Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.”

That would be a lie.

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed— of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. This feels very important. We know VERY LITTLE about Azriel’s story, his past, and his family, and so I want to point out ANY and EVERY nugget we get!

“Look I...” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” I’m not exactly sure what it means that Azriel says this. It could be that he doesn’t want to make a thing of his potential feelings for Gwyn and so tries to deflect with this statement, both to convince Clotho and himself that it’s not about Gwyn. It could also mean that Azriel needed to be rid of the necklace, and wasn’t in the mood to fight with Clotho over an ultimately secondary (to getting rid of the necklace) impulse to give it to someone who provided him comfort and companionship at a time when he needed it.

He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger.

He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” HE LOST THE FIRST SNOWBALL FIGHT IN 200 YEARS! And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Gwyn made him feel better the previous night. I think he lost because he is in anguish over the situation with Elain. Again, I understand that anguish shouldn’t necessarily be a romantic thing, but in SJM’s writing it often is. This is a romance series, angst is a thing, stakes are a thing. It’s not necessarily the most healthy, but it’s also not all-the-way unhealthy. He just feels strongly about Elain and there are a lot of obstacles between him and finding a way to resolve those feelings for good or bad.

I am a counselor for folks who have and are dealt/dealing with sexual, gender-based, and interpersonal violence, and if you want me to do an analysis of all of the relationships in SJM’s writing that aren’t wholly healthy, there won’t be any left over. Except for maybe Sartaq and Nesryn. they really do have their shit together. I suspend a fair amount of my disbelief and professional knowledge in reading these books because I love them and they are fictional :) Also, relationships are complicated. It’s pretty rare for me to work with a client that has a cut-and-dry, black-and-white story.

Now, in my PERSONAL NOT PROFESSIONAL experience, shit is messy, and messiness, even in real life, doesn’t always mean something isn’t worth the strife. Though absolutely abuse and assault are a whole other thing. I think it’s really good to think critically about relationship dynamics in fiction, because it’s a safe place to do great learning and reflection. I also think it’s important to consider that the rules of our reality are not necessarily the rules of the reality being written by an author. Maybe you personally find Azriel’s feelings toward Elain (as they have been expressed so far) are beyond redemption, and are unhealthy to a point where the relationship cannot be salvaged. But that is not realistically a reason that the relationship in question won’t happen. Pretty much any negative/toxic assertions that can be leveled against Elriel based on the VERY SMALL amount of first-person perspective we have in the relationship could be leveled against at least a few of SJM’s other endgame couples. Totally happy to get into this more and provide those examples :)

Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I’ll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her.

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... “Fine. Thank you.” Not sure what this means. Maybe just that it takes Az a while to open up to people and call them friends.

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. And here we have the most romantic evidence for Az and Gwyn as a couple. Maybe he is falling for her and that’s why he can picture her smile. I really don’t know. I think it could also be that he is happy to be able to make her happy, in recognition of the comfort she gave him the previous evening. Maybe he can picture her because of her potential lightsinger status. Thoughts?

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. The image glowing, again, lightsinger-supporting language.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So now he is referring to Gwyn’s smile here. This is interesting, because Gwyn’s smile wouldn’t necessarily be a secret, but perhaps it is if you think of her as being hidden in the library, or that he’ll know about her smile and her receiving the necklace even though she won’t know that he’s the one who gave it to her. Or maybe he’s drop dead in love with her! Another thing that I don’t think is true given his stony attitude post-Solstice (when Gwyn is very much around) and the fact that he doesn’t seem to react viscerally to Gwyn’s kidnapping until Cassian points out that bad things could be happening to both her AND Emerie, as well as Nesta. He knows Gwyn just as well, if not better at this point, as he knew Elain when he reacted to HER kidnapping in ACOWAR. He was very riled, he was the one who noticed she was gone, he vowed almost immediately to go get her, knowing it might mean certain death (to be fair, he seems to have a bit of a death wish, BUT he’s still a pragmatist and doesn’t try to WASTE his life on things - either they’re essential to the court and/or Prythian’s wellbeing or essential to someone for whom he cares deeply.)

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #elain archeron #rhysand #gwyn acosf #acosf #acotar theory #acosf theory #azriel bonus chapter #azriel pov #azriel x elain #lightsinger #shadowsinger

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins Part Three

Links to Part One, Part Two

Word Count: 2704

Warnings: None

Ichigo had a Problem. And that Problem’s name was Grimmjow. For the past two months, the strong, handsome, sometimes brash, and very, very forward man seemed to show up almost everywhere Ichigo went. And yes, Ichigo liked looking at his pretty eyes and his strong chest and his smug grin. But also, Ichigo had jobs. Dangerous jobs. How was he supposed to complete them with a civilian hanging around him all the time, and not give himself away? Whether he enjoyed Ichigo’s company or not, he was almost certain that Grimmjow would go running to the cops like a good citizen if he knew the true nature of Ichigo’s work.

Which is why, on a Thursday, Ichigo was outside perched on a park bench…at one in the morning. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands briefly. His head was fuzzy from being awake all day and then dragging himself out to the park so late…early?...but he needed to try and keep his wits about him. The man he was meeting was known for his…games. And Ichigo had no intention of getting strung along. Especially as the man was a friend of Kisuke’s. Ichigo really had to wonder at that man’s definition of friendship…did he think it just meant ‘person who hasn’t killed me yet’? Ichigo shook his head with a sigh.

“That’s a pretty dramatic sigh,” a low voice commented. Ichigo turned to look over his shoulder. In the moonlight he could see a shadow of a figure standing several feet away. “Life got you down?” The figure approached now that he knew he had Ichigo’s attention. As he stepped closer, Ichigo could make out more details. Long dark wavy hair pulled back in a low ponytail. A suit that looked slightly disheveled as if the person had taken a nap in it. Scruff around the chin and five o’ clock shadow on his cheeks. A tired-looking face with a kind expression, but with eyes as sharp as the blades he figured had to be concealed somewhere on the man’s person. After all, Shunsui Kyoraku was known for wielding dual swords.

The man was beside the bench now. He gestured to the empty space next to Ichigo. “Mind if I join you?”

Ichigo shrugged, feigning indifference. He didn’t dare let the other man see how intimidated he felt. “Do what you want.”

Shunsui eased himself onto the bench with a sigh. “You know, I was a little surprised at the time Kisuke suggested. It’s not easy for an old man like me to get out and about at all hours of the night anymore,” he spoke with the air of a man commenting on the weather, but Ichigo knew there was another meaning to his words. ‘You better be worth the effort I’m making to see you’ was the unspoken threat in the older man’s eyes when Ichigo met his gaze. Ichigo stared back at him calmly, brown eyes determined and unwavering. Shunsui must have liked what he saw there, because he smiled suddenly. He turned to face forward, observing the empty park in the silvery light of the moon and stars. “You know, there’s a new pharmaceutical company in town. Pretty interesting, actually, they say they have a new drug. One that’s supposed to enhance the user’s fitness and strength, optimize calorie use, cut down reaction time, and just overall make a person physically…better.”

“Do they?” Ichigo wasn’t stupid. He’d heard of Hueco Mundo Pharmaceuticals. He’d even seen promos for their so-called ‘miracle pill’. To the average person it probably sounded ‘too good to be true’. To those desperate enough to try it, they probably believed it was a bit embellished. To Ichigo? He figured it probably did all those things exactly as advertised. He’d been around Kisuke long enough to know things that seemed impossible were rarely actually so. But he wondered what a person had to sacrifice to reap the benefits of that ‘miracle pill’.

“They do.” Shunsui’s voice had lowered and his tone was more serious now. “Naturally, Unohana looked into it.” Ichigo felt his lips quirk upward slightly at the mention of Unohana Retsu, the number one pharmacist in the city, and Kisuke and Tessai’s personal supplier for both medications and poisons. Though, he couldn’t help the twinge of unease in his chest. If Unohana looked into it, there was most definitely something wrong. The woman didn’t get involved personally where she didn’t have to. Even with Tessai and Kisuke, she insisted they were customers and business was not to be discussed outside of work-hours when she visited for tea.

“And?”

“Shinji. Hiyori. Kensei. Hanataro. Four of her top employees are missing.”

Ice gripped Ichigo’s soul and he felt dread wash over him. His hands clenched into fists and a frown settled onto his face. “Does she know what happened?”

A light breeze stirred the night air, tugging gently at Shunsui’s long hair and making a shiver roll down Ichigo’s spine. “They were sent to find out information. Not even infiltrate, just act as customers. Each of them disappeared after receiving one shipment of the medication. We don’t even know if they ingested any. There’s no trace of them, and the only hint we even had that they managed to get the medication was the packaging found in their homes.” Shunsui paused for a moment and let the information sink in. Then he continued, “Until yesterday. Unohana received an unlabelled, unmarked package. It had a disc inside.”

Ichigo’s mouth went dry. Images of the four employees, people he might even dare to call friends, rushed through his mind. “What…what was on the disc?” he asked. His voice was strained, and he hated the emotion it gave away, but Shunsui didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink.

“You’d have to see it to believe it,” was all he answered, his voice uncharacteristically soft and saddened. He cleared his throat. “You know how Unohana is. She has her pride. There’s no way she’s letting this go. But she can’t act on her own. Four of her best are out of action, and she’s in the eye of the public as a charitable public figure, advocating for health care and all that. Isane is pulling more than triple her usual amount of work. There’s no one else. She reached out to me, but…well.”

Ichigo closed his eyes and swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up in his throat. “Well what? You’re not usually one to outsource to Kisuke,” he prompted, trying to keep his mind off the inevitable fate of his friends. Shunsui sighed.

“You’re aware that two of our squad captains…defected last year and went rogue.”

Ichigo gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding. You’re not telling me they joined Hueco Mundo?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And that’s why I can’t send my people after them. Gin and Tousen know all of them. Hell, Tousen trained more than half of them. We’d get nothing but a bunch of dead spies if I sent anyone after them.” Shunsui didn’t try to hide his frustration. He clasped his hands together so tightly the knuckles turned white, and he fixed a glare at the shadows in the distance. He took a deep breath in and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck. “Unohana doesn’t want to just hit the company where it hurts. She wants to obliterate them. Cut off their head, so to speak.” Shunsui finally turned to face Ichigo again. Ichigo met his gaze calmly, doing his best not to give away the roiling rage, the burning fear, the sickening unease that settled into his gut. “I’m asking you to take the job. You’ll be well compensated, once the head of the company is dead.”

Ichigo took one breath. In and out. Then another. Nice and easy. His restless thoughts cleared away like clouds sailing on the wind. There was only one choice; from the moment he’d been asked to go by Kisuke he’d made up his mind. He wouldn’t back out now.

“I’ll do it.”

***

The streetlights cast a warm glow as the limousine sped to his home. Ichigo hadn’t been able to refuse Shunsui’s offer to escort him home, especially when the walk to the park had been cold enough on its own. And he trusted Nanao’s driving.

“You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you,” Shunsui commented, a fonder look on his face now that he wasn’t talking business. Ichigo shrugged.

“I was fifteen.” He kept his answers short, to the point. Regardless who he knew, or for how long, Ichigo would rather not be too trusting of Shunsui. The man ran a spy ring, after all. He had to be one of the most dangerous players in the game of life in Karakura Town. And Ichigo had been evading him for a while.

As if understanding his intentions, the older man chuckled and reached out. Ichigo tensed but didn’t move away as Shunsui ruffled his bright orange hair. “Keep your distance all you want, but I promise I’m not trying to recruit you again. Kisuke and Yoruichi both made it clear you’re not looking for a new boss. But I do have to say I miss seeing all you kids. You sure were a lively bunch whenever Kisuke brought you around.” Shunsui’s hand withdrew and Ichigo felt himself relax again.

“It’s your own fault you don’t see us,” Ichigo reminded the other man, giving him a cold glare. Shunsui blinked, eyes widening for a fraction of a second with surprise. Something flashed in his expression, but Ichigo didn’t quite catch it before Shunsui’s easy-going mask of a smile was back in place.

“Well,” he laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I suppose you’re right about that.” The limo pulled to a stop in front of his house. Ichigo hastily exited the vehicle, and just about slammed the door behind him, but Shunsui spoke again. “Wait. You’ve forgotten something.”

Ichigo turned around, mouth open to snap at the man, only to see him holding Ichigo’s phone, which he’d left on the seat next to him. Ichigo snapped his mouth shut and reached for the phone, but Shunsui snatched his hand back, a smile playing on his lips like it did when he used to tease the kids as he watched over them for Kisuke. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. He was in no mood to play this game.

“Give me my phone back, old man,” he grumbled.

“Ichigo?” a familiar voice called and Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face. He glanced to the side and, sure enough, there was Grimmjow, standing in his front yard in a pair of sweats and a tank top. He opened his mouth and shut it, no words coming out. Why the hell is he outside at this time of night? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. This is why I requested the meeting time. What in the fuck?!

Seemingly realizing Ichigo was in a tough position, Shunsui decided to have mercy. He held the phone out again. Ichigo glanced at him and snatched the phone out of his hand. He gave the old man a glare, and Shunsui just smiled back at him as Ichigo slammed the door shut. The limousine pulled away. Ichigo took in a deep breath and turned around to face Grimmjow, only to find the blue-haired man standing right in front of him.

***

Grimmjow had been sleeping…not so well. Despite the announcement from Jinta two months ago, it felt less like Ichigo wanted to date him and more like he wanted to avoid him. It was weird. The other man always smiled and greeted him, but he’d seemed more and more tired and less and less enthusiastic. Maybe the kid read it wrong? Maybe Grimmjow read it wrong? Maybe they were all wrong and Ichigo was embarrassed and too polite to say so? He groaned and rubbed his hands on his face. He snuck a look at his bedside clock and groaned again. Two fourty-five? Fuck. Are you kidding me? Grimmjow scowled. His throat was dry now. With a sigh, he heaved himself up and out of bed, padding down to the kitchen for a glass of water. He was reaching for a glass when light flooded through the gaps in the curtains. Grimmjow paused and frowned. He abandoned his original objective to see who would be paused in front of his home at ass-o-clock in the morning.

He couldn’t quite see from the window, so he opened the front door and stepped outside. The car was long, a limousine, he could see now, in the light of the streetlamp and the headlights. It was parked in front of Ichigo’s house. Grimmjow waited as the door opened and a familiar figure stepped out. He squinted, but when the figure turned back toward the vehicle, he got a better look at their face.

“…Ichigo?” he called out. The figure started, and then Ichigo was meeting his gaze in the dim streetlight. He looked…afraid? There must have been a commotion from the limo, because Ichigo turned back to it, and reached in to grab something. Grimmjow frowned. His actions didn’t look natural or relaxed, but tense and on-guard. He started toward the limo, worried if he took his eyes off his neighbour for a second that he would be snatched back into the limo and disappear forever.

As if on a cue, right as he reached him Ichigo slammed the door shut and the limo sped away. Ichigo turned, as if expecting Grimmjow to be in his yard still. His wide-eyed expression told Grimmjow the other man hadn’t expected him to be right in front of him. Grimmjow stared at him. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. Ichigo’s eyes were dark in the dim light, with a lighter ring of amber around the outside of the iris. After the initial startle response, his gaze slowly softened and Grimmjow could see a sadness in his eyes. They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but stopped. Grimmjow gestured for Ichigo to continue.

Ichigo smiled at him gently. His face had a really warm glow in the soft streetlights now that the limo and its harsh lights were gone. “What are you doing out here so late?”

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows. “Could say the same to you.”

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair and tore his gaze away. “Asked you first,” he mumbled. Grimmjow pursed his lips but decided not to argue the point of who looked more out-of-place right now.

He rolled his shoulders, hairs on his arms prickling in the cold. “Couldn’t sleep. Went to get water, and I saw the light from the limo. So I came out to see who was parked out here in the middle of the night,” he replied shortly. Ichigo nodded, eyes still not meeting Grimmjow’s. “Your turn.”

Ichigo swallowed. “I was. Working.”

Grimmjow folded his arms. “Really.”

Ichigo looked at him now, brown eyes pleading. “That’s as much as I can tell you. Please. I’m sorry.” Grimmjow searched his eyes, but he found no lies in them.

“…are you alright, at least? You didn’t look too happy talking to…whoever that was.”

Ichigo’s hesitation said it all. Grimmjow kept his gaze fixed on him, staring at him intently, as if he could pull the answer out of Ichigo with only his gaze. The other man lowered his gaze, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it and closed it again. Finally, he just shook his head. “No. Not really,” he whispered, voice sounding strained. Discomfort settled in Grimmjow’s chest and he felt the urge to reach out, to touch, comfort, console…but he resisted. Instead, he dropped his arms to his sides.

“C’m ‘ere,” he directed, turning slightly toward his own home. Ichigo looked up, confusion etched into his face. Grimmjow jerked his head toward his house. “Come sit inside. I ain’t gonna be able to sleep and you look too wound up right now. We can talk, or whatever.” Ichigo blinked. Then he gave a soft smile.

“Yeah, ok. That sounds good.” And he followed Grimmjow into the house.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #ch:shunsui #au #found family

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Nightmare- (10)

Warnings: Um, like always, get tissues ready, I guess.

He hated this.

Being in the same room as five other people, three of which he hated, wasn’t how he wanted his evening to go. He wanted to be home with you, watching movies and cuddling under about ten blankets. He regretted ever going to that party and meeting the insufferable redhead. God, he couldn’t believe he’d fucked up this bad.

Even now, as he ate dinner, he tuned out the conversation around him. From time to time, he would glance up at Rina, jaw clenched, hate coursing through him.

It was her fault. Right? It had to be.

Whatever. He just had to get through this dinner, and then he’d be able to go home with you. And...maybe, maybe he would confess to you. It was scary to think about...he could feel his heart thumping, and his palms were sweaty. But he knew it was what he had to do. You probably didn’t like him back...but he couldn’t keep it in. He’d kept his feelings locked in for so many years, and now that they were finally out, he couldn’t reel them back in. He felt like an emotional wreck.

He didn’t care if you didn’t feel the same. Seeing you with the necklace around your neck had only solidified what he already knew- you were meant to be his, and he would do anything to make sure that would happen.

When Rina had accused you of changing him, that was the last straw.

Fuck Rina. He probably shouldn’t have snapped at her like that, but he couldn’t help it. He made his way to the bathroom, not wanting to be in the same room as her anymore.

Splashing water on his face, he wiped it clean and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He couldn’t wait to get out of here, couldn’t wait for this to be over.

As soon as he stepped out of the door though, he was met with her face, uncomfortably close to his as she caged him against the doorway, expression furious.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m really not having it.”

“My problem is you. Why the fuck can’t you just leave me alone?” He snapped.

“I know you’re not dating her. I know it. I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt but...it’s so hard. I almost believed it at first...but now, it’s just so laughable. You two, trying to fool everyone into thinking that you’re dating. It’s pathetic.” She spat.

He remained silent.

“What I wanna know is why you left. Is there something wrong with me? Am I unfuckable or something?” Her voice quivered a little, a sprinkle of vulnerability before it regained its usual confidence. “There were millions of guys falling over themselves to want me, to fuck me that night.. Have you ever paused to consider how it would have affected my reputation? You running out of the room just minutes after we entered together?”

“Look, Rina...you’re being unreasonable-”

His brain almost short-circuited when he felt her lips on his. He was consumed with the need to push her away...the acute awareness that you were in the other room.

But for some reason...he couldn’t. He was tired of the game they were playing. Maybe if he just gave her what she wanted, she’d finally stop. She’d stop bothering you two, and he could live his life with you in peace.

So he kissed her back. She pulled away after a few seconds, panting and looking at him with shining eyes. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He shook his head, eyes widening. “My girlfriend’s literally in the other room-”

She scoffed. “Seriously, Minho, drop the act. I know you two are in a fake relationship. You make it blindingly obvious.” She stares curiously up at him. “Do you...actually like her?”

Minho didn’t say anything, averting his eyes and trying to breathe normally.

She let out an incredulous snort. “Jesus...you’re such a cretin. That bitch doesn’t like you back, you do know that, right?”

“I...”

She pulled away completely, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward a little bit, peeking around the wall. Minho felt the dread rising in him as she did so, his throat going dry. His eyes took in Juyeon and you on the couch, him leaning closer to you, his hand on your inner thigh. He couldn’t see your expression as your back was facing him, but he’d seen enough. He felt anger pulsing in him as he looked away, scowling.

He hated the way his legs and fingers felt shaky. There it was again, that weakness you caused. He’d been prepared to submit, prepared to accept the weakness as a part of him...but you clearly didn’t feel the same way. So what was the point?

He grabbed Rina, dragging her to the side and whispering in her ear. He’d had enough.

“Where’s that asshole’s bedroom? I wanna fuck you on his bed.”

She grinned, pulling him in for another kiss as she led him to the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed and straddling his lap.

Somehow, Minho didn’t feel anything, not even arousal, as she moved her hips against him, unbuttoning his shirt rapidly. He felt blank, vapid...his body moving as if it were a robot.

Even as he kissed her furiously, he could feel his actions fueled by his frustration and anger. How he wished you were the one on his lap right now...but you’d made it increasingly clear that you didn’t want him in that way. He could make peace with that.

“Fuck you.”

As soon your shaky voice hit his ears, he pulled away like lightning, his eyes landing on your face. The shocked, devastated expression on your face breaking his heart.

Before he could even say anything, you ripped off the necklace, throwing it at him and running away.

He felt tears prick his eyes. That expression on your face...it was now etched in his brain, the memory of it making him nauseous. Why did you look so horrified, so heartbroken? You didn’t like him, so why were you so angry, so sad? The implications of it scared him. What if...

He pushed Rina aside, bending down to pick up the chain, his eyes filling with tears. It wasn’t broken, thankfully. He tucked it into his pocket, turning to the girl on the bed, who was glaring up at him.

“Are you really walking out, again? You do realize-”

“Shut up. I’m done with you. Do whatever you want, I don’t fucking care, okay? I’ve hurt the person who means the most to me multiple times, and you’re to be blamed for some of it. I know I’m the one at fault...and I also know I would have never recognized my love for her if you hadn’t thrown your little tantrum, and forced us into this fake relationship. But if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from all this, it’s that my feelings for her definitely aren’t fake.” He rambled, breathing hard. For some reason, her dumbstruck expression gave him a weird sense of satisfaction.

He ran out of the room, walking to the door as fast as he could and trying his best to avoid Juyeon’s eyes.

***

Minho found you walking down the street. Your back was to him, but he could almost sense the hurt in the way you walked. His heart ached, especially because he knew he was the reason you looked so defeated. He opened his mouth to call out...but he couldn’t.

You deserved so much better.

He inhaled again, working up his courage.

“Y/n!”

You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around at the sound of his voice. He walked closer, sighing and running a hand through his drenched hair. “Y/n...please...”

“What?” You snapped, crossing your arms. “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I...um, I’m s-”

“No.” You scoffed, holding your palm up. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’ve done enough of that.”

He tilted his head to the side, his sadness slowly transforming into anger.

Actually, why was he apologizing? What right did you have to pretend like you were the victim here? You had no idea about his feelings. You didn’t know what he was going through. You were the one who’d started it, flirting with Juyeon.

“Why the fuck should I be the one to apologize?!”

Your eyes widened. “Wha...Minho, you were literally making out with the girl who wants to send you to jail just a few minutes ago! It was just...irresponsible.” In all honesty, you could care less about the immaturity of the action. You couldn’t tell him the real reason after all, could you? That you were jealous.

“Do you ever not think with your dick?” You asked, feeling your emotions burn. “You know...they were right. You are just a fuckboy without any substance.”

The words hit him like a knife. He opened his mouth, closing it as he felt his heart burn at the words, partly because somewhere deep down...he was scared they might be true.

He felt his anger boil over as he took the necklace out from his pocket. “You know what, Y/n? It’s true, what you said in the letter. This friendship was a mistake, after all. I wish I’d never fucking met you, never wasted all these years on someone as boring and mundane as you!” He threw the necklace on the ground, swallowing. The slightest streak of hesitation ran through him, his inner voice telling him to stop and think...before he shook his head, snapping out of it and crushing it under his shoe.

You let out a small gasp, swallowing your tears as you stared at his feet.

“I knew we’d be breaking up tonight. I just never thought it’d happen this way.” He whispered. He was glad for the rain right then, thankful that they were masking the tears running down his face. He hated the lies he’d just spewed.

You paused, hiccuping as you felt fresh tears run down your cheeks. You were sure you looked like a raccoon, mascara dripping down your face.

“Minho...you were right. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry.” You took a deep breath. “Sorry I ever fell in love with you.” You choked out, lips quivering as you watched his face slowly twisting with shock. You turned around, not wanting to see it anymore, walking away from him as fast as you could, your heart pounding and legs shaking.

Your dress was sticking to your body and your hair was plastered to your head. The cold rain was making you shake, wishing you’d brought a jacket. Your heart felt colder, though.

They say confessions in the rain are supposed to be romantic. This felt anything but.

***

You cried into your pillow once you reached home, feeling empty. You were a muddle of emotions, your entire body still wet from the rain.

He didn’t even run after you. Didn’t even care.

Then again, what reason did you have to be angry? He wasn’t really your boyfriend. But...you also had to accept that he wasn’t your best friend anymore. It had come straight out of his mouth.

Your best friend had disappeared a few years ago. The guy you lived with now wasn’t that Minho, wasn’t the Minho who gave you the necklace, the one who cared about you. He was different. Maybe he did belong with Rina.

At least, did this mean that Rina wasn’t pissed at him anymore? You were glad that he wouldn’t have to go to jail, at least. You didn’t hate him that much...no, quite the opposite. You still fucking loved him. And you hated yourself for that.

By the time you felt the drowsiness settle in, the sun rays were already poking through the curtains.

***

Minho felt like he’d just been struck with a hammer. The sound of thunder was all he could hear apart from your words repeating themselves over and over in his head.

You fell in love with him.

When? How? Why?

He couldn’t comprehend it. He’d watched dumbly as you left, even after you became a dot in the distance. It had felt like he was rooted to the spot, his legs having lost the ability to walk and his brain, the ability to think.

He ran his fingers through his wet hair as it slowly dawned on him. The realization that he hadn’t been alone in pining for his best friend, that you’d also been going through the same thing as him. You were in love with him…

He let out a shaky sob as he realized just how badly he’d fucked up.

***

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke you up. It was still pretty early in the morning, and you groaned as you dragged yourself out of bed, having had only 3 hours of sleep.

You hated your heart for hoping it was Minho, coming to apologize…even though you knew an apology wouldn’t be enough for you to forgive him. It was hard…but you had to stay away from him. You needed space, time to think. Seeing his face so soon would be too raw to handle. You’d forgive him immediately, even if he said nothing. And he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

It still disappointed you when you opened the door to see Juyeon standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I just…wanted to say I’m sorry. And after what happened, I wanted to comfort you.”

You nodded expressionlessly, trying not to show how broken you were. You wanted to be strong.

He tilted his head, and the look of sympathy on his face made you want to cry even more.

“Can I…come in?”

When you remained silent, he quickly cleared his throat. “I mean…I just want to explain.”

You thought for a moment and shrugged, stepping aside as you went back in, sitting on the couch. He came inside, hesitantly sitting next to you.

“Look…I have a few things to admit. First off…I like you.”

Your eyes widened. Yeah, he flirted with you…but you didn’t know he actually had feelings.

“Rina-“

He shook his head, interrupting you.

“Rina and I aren’t together. We’re literally cousins. Everyone on campus knows that.”

You wrinkled your nose. They were? “Um, ew. Then why did-“

”She doesn’t talk to me much. Just a week ago, she approached me telling me about the whole situation, about Minho running away and humiliating her. I’d already kind of heard about it, but the way she was talking about it painted him in a much more vindictive light, you know? And then she told me about how she thought that maybe you two were faking your relationship. Which I found pretty absurd at first, but I quickly realized it could be the truth.”

He took a deep breath, glancing at you to make sure you were still listening before looking back at his hands, folded in his lap.

“She knew I had a tiny crush on you. So, she made me help her carry out her plan to get you two to break up, saying that she’d be able to get you to like me.”

He looked up at you, his eyes sad. “It was wrong of me to help her. She’s just deranged and obsessed with her ‘reputation’. I understand if you never want anything to do with me ever again. I just have one question.”

He looked at you, asking for permission. You nodded, signaling him to go ahead.

“Do you actually like him? Like, as more than a best friend?”

You paused, trying not to let the tears spill as you nodded. He sucked in a sharp breath, nodding with his lips tightly pressed together.

“Oh.”

You rubbed at your eyes, turning to face him completely. “Look, Juyeon…what you two did was pretty messed up. I never thought one person could be so petty to the extent of wanting to send someone to jail just because they refused to have sex with them, but here we are. A series of mistakes and misunderstandings are what got us here…but, whatever.” You scoffed.

“I’m sick and tired of all this. I don’t like Minho anymore.” Lie. “It isn’t just this situation that changed my mind…Minho changed way before Rina stepped into the scene. And..I think this was just a wake up call, letting me know that he’s no longer the person I thought he was.”

Juyeon took your hand, holding it gently. “You…you deserve better.”

You shrugged again, avoiding eye contact. There was silence for a few minutes.

“Y/n…?”

“Hm?”

“Give me just one chance, please? A chance to show you I can make you happy?” He asked, biting his lip as he looked at you hopefully.

You paused as you observed his face. Juyeon was…actually quite good looking. And besides assisting Rina in her shenanigans, he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He’d always been kind to you. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you this was a bad idea…that you didn’t have feelings for him, that you were still not over Minho...but the word already came out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Okay.” You squeezed his hand.

***

Minho woke up with a yawn. The first thing he noticed was how the bed he was in definitely wasn’t his. He was used to this kind of situation, but usually there’d be a naked girl sleeping next to him. This time, though, the bed was empty.

He got out of bed, heading for the door and seeing Chan sat at the breakfast table.

“Oh, good. You’re up. Breakfast?”

He shook his head, groaning as last night’s memories came flooding back. Your disturbed expression when you caught him with Rina, your tears as you confessed, the broken necklace.

He’d picked it up after you left. It was ruined, the little diamonds chipped and the clef cracked. He’d put it in his pocket, going to his car and driving straight to Chan’s. After what you’d said, he’d thought it would be better to give you some space.

“How long will you be staying here?”

“A while. I just don’t think I can face her again after yesterday.” He mumbled.

Chan nodded understandingly. The first thing Minho had done when he reached Chan’s place was cry, telling him the whole story from beginning to end. He’d felt slightly better after letting it all out.

“You know, you should get your clothes. I don’t have enough spare ones.” He chuckled, turning to look back at his plate.

“Oh fuck..I don’t think I wanna see her again so soon…”

“Just for a few minutes. You need your stuff after all.”

“I can’t just talk to her so soon! How can I act nonchalant and aloof when she confessed to me the other night? When we both hurt each other?”

Chan shrugged. “Hmm, you’re right. Fine, then. I’ll go get your stuff, and also inform her that you’re going to be staying with me for a while. Okay?”

“Okay.”

***

Chan made his way out of his car and to your apartment. He knocked on the door, waiting as he whistled a tune under his breath.

The door opened.

“Oh, hey, Chan. What are you doing here?”

Chan frowned as he stared at Juyeon, looking him up and down.

“Um..I could ask you the same thing.” He thought about how Minho had told him about what he’d seen on the couch.

Juyeon shrugged. “Long story. Y/n?” The man turned around, calling out for you. A few minutes later, you appeared beside him, and he put his arm around your waist.

“Oh, hi, Chan!”

“Hi, Y/n.” Chan spoke slowly. “Um…Minho was wondering if he could get some of his stuff.”

“Why? Is he going to be staying at yours?”

“Mhmm. For a while.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Wait here.”

As you left, Chan turned to Juyeon with a glare. “What the fuck is going on between you two?”

“What do you think? We’re together now…sort of.”

Chan’s eyes widened. “B-but…”

“But what? I’ve always liked her.”

“Minho likes her too, you know.”

Juyeon stopped, raising an eyebrow. “He does?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, it sure doesn’t look like it. I don’t care if he has feelings for her. All I know is that I could treat her better than he ever could.”

You came back, handing Chan the bags with a smile on your face. Chan returned your smile. “Thank you, Y/n. Have a nice day.” He glanced beside you. “Juyeon.”

“Wait, Chan…tell Minho I said Hi.” You said slowly, playing with your fingers as you felt your tension grow.

Chan paused, nodding with a fake smile as he went back to his car, his mind swimming with thoughts.

How would Minho react when he tells him this? He had a hunch that it would not be pretty.

#minho angst #lee know angst #lee minho angst #skz #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids #kpop #kpop angst #kpop smut #minho smut #lee know smut #skz smut #minho fluff #lee know fluff #chan #bang chan #juyeon

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

— 💌 ; a love letter from @kyriaan

long post below regarding broken records. cw includes adultery, physical assault, toxic relationships, broken records spoilers, and mature content

[ from the ask ] BROKEN RECORDS ; track 005

Okay! I finally had time to actually sit down and properly read chap 5 cause ill be damned and burned if i dont pay special attention to one of my favorite series here! Rather drown or be sting by bees slowly 😒

🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙃 I for the first time don't even know where to start so allow me to be all over the place cause my emotions are also all over the place with this chapter ✌️

Ill start by y/n's dad caN GO FUCK HIMSELF? Like okay sir you might have fallen in love with our mom (ill give him the benefit of the doubt regarding his feelings) BUT SIR YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HONEST? FROM THE BEGINNING? ALSO BRUH YOU KIDDING ME??? SIR YOU LEGIT ABANDONED YOUR OTHER DAUGHTER AND THEN YOU PROCESS TO 'LEAVE US' I- YOOOOO I WOULD BITCH SLAP HIM I SWEAR!!

Also ALSO ILL SCREAM FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK NO KID HAS EVER TO BE BLAMED FOR BEING BORN!! Y/n mom's line: 'we have to atone for our sins' its legit BULLSHIT it wad NOT y/n fault her DAD COULDNT KEEP HIS DICK INSIDE HIS PANTS NOR ITS Y/N FAULT THAT HER DAD CHEATED!!! ATONE FOR OUR SINS MY ASS!! the father is the one that has to take responsibility for all this shitty situation we do NOT nor any kid out there in this situation has to be taken accountable by this!!

And now Suna 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 bruh im just gonna cry... Everything he does just makes me heart swell i feel so cozy when i read his parts like how sweet and present he is I- bruh I never had that... Actually seeing y/n breaking up with him when shes clearly falling in love with him just breaks me cause Girl for real Suna would be there for you... I get it shes afraid and shes acting on that fear but girl... Pls he truly loves you deeply not everyone is like your dad. There are happy endings. There are good people Sunas one of them pls 🥺🥺🥺 also MY LOVE TSUMU BEING A SUPPORTIVE FRIEND EVEN THO SUNA GOT THE GIRL BRUH TSUMU I FUCKING LOVE YOU MY CHILDISH YET ADORABLY SMUG BOY 😭😭😭😭😭

Nagisas a bitch btw ✌️ so far i see no redemption not excuse in what she did so far. I get her reasons but that does NOT excuse her behavior. She has to lash out at her cunt of a dad not at a innocent woman who was also a victim all along. Nor even her half sister. I get her mentality behind this but doesnt excuse her behavior at all- its basically the same as being a victim from a bully and playing bully after aswell.

Overall YOU MADE ME CRY AGAIN SUKI! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS BUT ALSO UGH MY HEART SUKI!

[ from suki ]

BROKEN RECORDS IS UR FAVE SERIES??? babe pls you’re gonna me cry !! nah nah fr his dishonesty caused all this mess. YEAHA SAKLAA tbh I love mama lucy but her words of ‘atoning for their sins’ or her mindset of ‘we don’t deserve to be happy when we’ve hurt others’ really messed up YN. she was only 21 and vulnerable with all the shambles happening in her family + the sudden assault from nagisa, that when her mother said those words, she struggled to let go of it. to her, it became like a final verdict that dictated how she lived her life.

SUNA URGHHH PLEASE GIVE SUNA A CHANCE HE HAS PURE AND GOOD INTENTIONS BUT I CANT BLAME HER EITHER AHSJAKA. and the comparison of nagisa being a bully’s victim only to become the next bully is true. nagisa should lash out at their shitty excuse of a father. ALSO AAAAHH THE NEXT CHAPTER (007) IS WORSE AHSJKAAL

[ from the ask ] BROKEN RECORDS ; track 005

I know shins attractive I mean mans perfect?? Does he even have any flaw?? And the way he cried when he got his jersey MYGOD FHDHFHFJSKS but I still look at him and im like.... Hmmmm nah i wouldnt date him its just not my... Do i dare say type? Cause i dont think i have a type ghfhfisofbd but like I just 🧍‍♀️

I love him i just dont love him i guess

The makeout scene tho ill give you that 🥵🥵🥵 made me bark (i would still walk out next day like was a good fuck kita byeeee🚉🏃‍♀️💨)

... More drama regarding mari... And you said this will have like 10 chapters... And from 8 on will be angsty.... 🙂 *traumatized noises*

[ from suki ]

YUUHHH KITA IS PERFECT HERE AHSJKAA IDK MAYBE ITS MY SIMPING FOR NAOYA CONVERTED TO KITA ALREADY BEING PERFECT AS HE ALREADY IS AND I AMPED IT UP BCOS THE SIMP MODE IS ACTIVATED AHSKAA. the make out scene !! pls sir i’m on my knees spare some love in ur heart AAAAAAHHHHHH. also. i assure you. businessman! kita got game. he’s gonna make you walk funny if you give him the chance HSJKA

yeah i just finished writing the outline for track7 right now and the drama is HSJKAA it gave me a headache sobs

[ from the ask ] BROKEN RECORDS ; track 006

I want to give you my usual thoughts on the new chapter and at the same ahm...

I just saw myself on Suna... Deeply....and it kinda slapped me harder than i was expecting...there were too many things from him giving himself to mari/treating her like he wants to be treated... To deleting his best friend from social media thanks to his girlfriend... And it really hurt me ahah..

I would vent but.. Yeah

But yes this chapter i saw myself in suna and i had to take quite the long breaks cause it was getting to me 😅😅😅 also if anything i learned from my experiences is that MARI SCREAMS RED FLAGS and even Osamu can see that pls

I would honestly end Mari there, i wouldnt even bother to just retort i would walk my way into to the damn apartment and fucking take Suna for myself cause Mari does not deserve him. Shes manipulative, and in a way abusive.. Not allowing him to keep contact with his best friend his a total redflag and o know its because Suna had feelings for y/n and vice versa but Suna never gave het a reason to distrust him.

The moment he said he was best friends with y/n and was single she immediately clinged himself to him and for what? To then dump him like he was trash...

He gave himself to her, he proved he was there for her he even took her back this boy deserves the fucking world and its not Mari...

I kinda want to say it's not y/n at this point either cause the way she broke his heart was kinda the same Mari did.. Y/n disregarded his feelings and just broke it up.. Mari disregarded his feelings abd broke it up... But y/n stated from the very beginning that she would eventually break up Mari just shrugged and didn't care so i can in a way forgive y/n i cant forgive mari

Besides y/n was supportive from the beginning while Mari was obsessive and controlling.

Another really insanely well written chapter as usual (albeit this one making me ball my eyes off harder because yeah) but yes~ eagerly waiting for the next one~

Take your time tho 😌🙌

Mari can go fuck off 💗💓💞💕❣️❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍💯💝💖💋💅

Suna x y/n pls

Y/n deserves to have a healthy love life with someone she loves (hence why npt Kita) and loves her back

And Suna deserve the fucking world and be treated right

[ from suki ]

NAHHHH cuz when you said suna was treating mari the way he wanted YN to treat her... that’s right. on point. they’re all so complicated sobs. MARI IS A WALKING RED FLAG THAT OSAMU CAN SMELL FROM A MILE AWAY. ALSO yes mari is manipulative and borderline possessive when it came to suna. like yeah, let’s be real, she could tell a long time ago that suna was in love with YN and it made her insecure / jealous, but the whole time, YN kept her distance. she was supportive over their relationship from afar as to make mari comfortable. suna also did everything he could to make sure she was well cared for. for three years, he was focused on her and only her. he gave love a second chance despite being brokenhearted. suna never mari a chance to doubt because he, too, was sure he could be happy with her.

until mari left him.

and now suna is back with YN because they will always have each other. but honestly,,,if we think about it, if mari never broke up with suna or at least gave him the chance to explain himself - if mari didn’t do the exact thing YN did to suna years ago - he honestly would’ve been really happy with mari. they were going well. like yeah mari has always been toxic by pushing suna’s boundaries and asking him to unfollow his own best friend on social media, but he did it anyway. because he trusted their relationship. he wanted the best for them.

also yeah, the parallels between mari and YN were intentional !!

HEHEHEHE THE KITA X YN SHIP everyone loves them im so happy about that bcos kita is so amazing in my eyes. PREACH FOR THAT THO !! SUNA DESERVES THE BEST. SUNA DESERVES TO BE TREATED RIGHT. HE DESERVES THE WORLD AND SO MUCH MORE

thank you for taking the time to send me this, kya, it means a lot to me and it motivates me to work harder on the future chapters !! <33

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #besties #series ( broken records )#tw: physical assault #tw: toxic #tw: toxic relationships #tw: adultery

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myjjbaby · 4 years

Note

okay so a jj request where the reader has been keeping it a secret from jj that she’s epileptic (they’re dating) and then one night when they’re at a party and jj gets into a fight and she gets really overwhelmingly stressed from trying to get him to stop that it triggers a seizure, maybe like only kie knows she’s epileptic or something?? idk i totally get it if u aren’t comfortable writing this i just love ur writing and yeah ((:

i didn’t know

author’s note - guess who’s back, back again!! here’s a request surrounding mental illness and I just want to note that I am in no way intending to romanticize epilepsy or seizures, I just think that someone could really benefit from having a story that might fit with them and including a form of comfort through writing. big thanks to @jjmaybanx for her help because she helped me figure out a way to best portray what I wanted to get across.

synopsis - requested by anon! you kept a really big secret and it all crumbles away along with your so called perfect day.

warnings - epilepsy, seizing, underage drinking, fighting, overall angst for 1.6k. if any of these topics are possibly triggering to you please don’t read and if you have any concerns including me feel free to reach out.

Today was a perfect day. The sunrise was peeking through the window of John B’s spare room when you woke up, your blue eyed boy wrapped around you. You spent the better half of the morning admiring his peaceful features, blushing when he caught your stare.

“Morning, baby,” he smothered your cheek with an open mouth kiss, giggles erupting as he wrapped you in his arms, “you liking your view.”

You hummed lightly in agreement and continued to stare lovingly at your boyfriend. He traced your face with calloused fingers, brushing along the bridge of your nose as he watched you flush. JJ pulled you into his chest and your head rested comfortably on his collarbone while he kissed your hair.

“C ‘mon lovebirds, time to catch the waves.”

JJ groaned at John B, throwing an empty beer can at the door.

“Fuck off, let me hold my girl. It’s too early, the waves probably suck anyway.”

“JJ, it’s half past noon. Let’s go,” the brunette threw a muscle tank and a red baseball cap at your boyfriend, “Kie and Pope are already in the van.”

You smiled before trying to slip out of his grip and climb off the navy sheets. JJ caught your wrist in his warm hand, pulling you back into his familiar hold.

“J, we’ve gotta get up.”

He shook his head, curls tickling the underside of your jaw. Not long after, the two of you were packed into the back of the rusty Volkswagen with your boards trapped to the top.

JJ held you in his lap, kissing your neck when you threw your head back with laughter. His hands slipped under the gray fabric top you stole from him and prodded at the bikini strings. You slapped his hand away but he just smirked and continued twirling the purple straps between his fingertips.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” John B’s voice broke through the lively chatter, “let me present to you the finest Outer Banks waves ever.”

And he wasn’t wrong, the ocean was still wild from the surge of the hurricane a few days ago and the curl of each wave crashed beautifully. The Pogues climbed out of the beat up van before unstrapping all of the surfboards, John B and JJ running ahead with loud cheers being carried by the wind. You giggled as you carried your board alongside Kie, stopping just short of the sea. Looking over at the tanned girl, you sent her a wink and a bump to her hip before gliding off after your boys.

“You left a couple waves for me?”

“Of course,” the blonde reached his hand out to squeeze yours, “always do.”

The water was cool, relaxing her muscles, and JJ smiled, watching you absorb the sunshine. You all stayed out on the waves until your fingers were pruned and your eyes couldn’t stay open from the amount of salt water splashed on you.

Drifting back to shore, JJ was quick to grab your hand and bring it up to his face for a kiss. You felt content when John B drove the group to the Boneyard, a metal keg placed between you and Pope. The first kegger of the summer to end a perfect day.

A filled red solo cup quickly found its way into your hand and the bonfire burnt brightly as everyone showed up. Your fellow resident of the Cut, the Kooks from Figure Eight, and those clueless Tourons. You noticed your boyfriend’s grip pulling you back into his chest, successfully stumbling you away from the drunk idiots who couldn’t take a hint when JJ glared at them.

“Bub, ignore them.”

“I can’t.”

You chuckled when he clenched his jaw with jealousy.

“You have no reason to worry,” he hummed, features softening when they set on you, “I’m all yours, J.”

The night seemed to carry on without a hitch until a smooth hand slipped its way over your thigh. The soft skin contrasted the familiar roughness of JJ’s touch. You slipped your body away from the stranger’s eager touch.

“Where you going, girly?”

“Away from you.”

“I think you should stay right here wi-“”

His vulgar suggestion was cut off by a ring covered fist that you could recognize anywhere. JJ pushed you behind him as he overshadowed the clueless drunk boy. You could feel the blonde’s anger coming off him in waves, hand clenching and ripping his arm away when you went to hold him back. Your boyfriend was blinded by anger and his protectiveness over you.

“Stay the fuck away from my girl, you hear that?”

“What’s your problem?”

Wrong move, dumbass. JJ’s back was tense with bottled emotions, his breathing labored as he watched the Touron stand up.

“My problem? You thinking it’s okay to grab my girlfriend or any girl like that, that’s my problem.”

Like a fuse run out, JJ lunged at the stranger as a harsh gasp escaped your throat.

“J!”

He was seeing red, too absorbed by his anger to notice your cries or fastened breathing. Kiara, however, noticed when your hand lifted to your shirt, grasping the fabric as strangled heaves pressed out of your body.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey, hey, c ‘mon, don’t give out on me,” she watched as you stumbled into a dune, collapsing to the sand, “Y/N? You still with me?”

Kie watched as your gaze fogged over as if you were in a daze. She quickly moved the rocks and driftwood from near you and shouted for Pope or John B’s attention, the two boys rushing to your side.

“Pope, start timing. We’re about five seconds in right now.”

“Timing? That’d only happen if Y/N was having a sei- shit, okay.”

“John B, help me roll her onto her side.”

The two best friends turned you over as your arms began to tremble.

“Eleven Mississippi, twelve Mississippi…”

John B watched on helplessly before realizing JJ wasn’t by your side. Running back into the crowd and pushing through the circle formed around the fight, the brunette grabbed your boyfriend and tugged him towards you.

“Baby? Hey, hey, baby? Kiara? what’s happening?”

“She didn’t- she didn’t tell you,” Kie searched JJ’s panicked gaze for some kind of recognition.

“Tell me what? Kiara? What the fuck is happening?”

“She’s having a seizure! She’s epileptic! The fight must’ve overwhelmed her and triggered a seizure.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” he mumbled to himself shuffling closer to your frozen body. JJ stared back at Kie before turning to your disoriented figure laying out of the sand. He fell to his knees beside you, grabbing your face to try and comfort you.

“JJ, don’t touch her!”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t just grab her when she’s like this. You need to cool off and wait for it to end.”

“I- I didn’t- I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

Harsh sobs were pulled from his chest as he gripped his hair tightly. JJ had never felt so useless watching you, the girl he loved, struggling and he didn’t even know how to help you.

“W- Wh- What just, what just h- happened?”

Kie sighed when she watched you slowly come out of your stunned state. You glanced around bewildered not knowing where you were or how you got there.

“You had a seizure, Y/N. There was a fight and it just stressed you out,” she watched the panic cross your face again, “hey, it’s okay. Everyone is okay. You’re okay.”

You quickly scanned the group in front of you until your eyes landed on tear filled blue ones. You breathed in a short gasp seeing your boyfriend so torn up in front of you.

“JJ?”

He slowly inched towards you until he pulled you onto his lap like countless times before, but this time felt different.

“Could we have a minute?”

JJ glanced up at his friends before they all nodded and stepped away, clearing the infamous beach of the wandering partygoers. You didn’t dare look back up at the blonde boy, hating the pained look you knew would greet you if you did.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you fiddled with your fingers until he slowly gripped your own, pulling you deeper into his frame.

“Y/N, this isn’t something you can just keep from me.”

“I know, I know and I really am sorry. It was unfair of me to keep something like this from you. I just wanted to be normal.”

JJ nodded slightly, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

“I felt so hopeless. I didn’t know what the hell was happening and when I tried to help I just made it worse.”

“That’s my fault,” he vigorously shook his head, “yes, it is. I love you and should’ve told you.”

You sat in silence, JJ’s legs slotted between yours, his chin resting on top of your head. You leaned back and pressed your lips to his temple and the blue eyed boy returned the gesture with a soft smile. The silence was peaceful and perfect until JJ shifted to look down at you.

“Do you think I could get away with using the internet at work?”

“What? Why?”

“Hurricane knocked the towers down and I need to do some research, so I can take care of you.”

“I love you, J.”

“Love you too, baby.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #recs #like damn #outerbanksedit #obxedit #fic rec #jj maybank x reader #obx jj #i want a jj so someone please supply one #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj #jj imagine

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songofclarity · 3 years

Note

For a character who was the catalyst for all the events of the novel WRH got way too little attention and show time in the novel heck we don't even get a face off between him and the protagonists. To me if JGS was a pig in a golden pigsty, JGY a sneaky fox, and XY a rabid dog, then WRH was a mighty dragon. He had all the makings of an amazing villain but that potential was wasted and imo that is one of mdzs' greatest flaws

Mighty dragon Wen RuoHan is so true, Anon!

The spoiled pig in the golden pigsty came out on top after the Sunshot Campaign. He had all the money, a beautiful family, and an intact sect, and yet he wanted all the power left in Wen RuoHan’s wake--as if the world hadn’t fought for three years to get rid of the original.

The treacherous snake who cuddled up to others to steal their warmth and yet bit to kill at the first sign of movement. He acted like that warmth was his due and he had no choice but to bite. Surely the actions of others would either do him harm or leave him cold! He tricked Wen RuoHan into believing their scales meant they were similar, but he only ever dreamed of being a pig in that golden pigsty. (There is a connotation of mischief and charm with “sneaky fox” that does not fit Jin GuangYao in my mind lol)

The rabid dog who was used to being beaten and yet would accept a warm bed and a dish of food from any kind hand. He won’t bite the hand that feeds him but he will absolutely maul anyone who threatens that warm bed and new home he found--or anyone who looks like an easy target for some fun and games.

And then there is the mighty dragon!

I've been trying to respond to this ask for a few days because I agree and yet I also kind of disagree on that last point. I find it hard to say Wen RuoHan’s potential was wasted because it’s his potential to do harm that kept the Sunshot Campaign alive but also his lesser-discussed potential to be influenced towards doing good that could have prevented a lot of grief. Although he didn’t get a lot of page time, his importance to the story is practically on par with Wei WuXian himself and he continues to exist as a specter of evil even after he is dead.

This quote comes to mind during empathy:

On Koi Tower, people came and went. Before Nie MingJue's high viewpoint, the crowd parted again and again, with both sides nodding at him in respect, calling him "ChiFeng-Zun." Wei WuXian thought, Such a show of extravagance is going to reach even the heavens. All these people both fear and respect Nie MingJue. There's quite a few people who fear me, though not a lot who respect me. (Ch. 49 ERS)

One of the major conflicts in MDZS is based on one question: who gets to be the next Wen RuoHan after the Sunshot Campaign? And the sane answer is that it should be nobody. The Sects are independent entities who should take care of themselves and work in cooperation without controlling each other. The Wen Sect was never actually in charge of the other sects so it’s quite twisted for the Chief Cultivator position to be created in the wake of Wen RuoHan’s death. Wen RuoHan is still a catalyst for events even after he is murdered!

More so, when people were saying they hoped Wen Qing would one day take over as Sect Leader Wen because she had a normal way of doing things, it’s because Wen RuoHan calling the former Sect Leader Nie over to passive-aggressively slap his saber a few times and tell him it is a good saber is just bizarre. Of course Wen Qing’s ways of doing things are normal!

Compare Wen Qing being angry:

"If you really are grateful then put in some effort! What [the] hell kind of medicine did you just make? Brew it again!" (Ch. 60 ERS)

To Wen RuoHan:

And, thus, Wen RuoHan wasn't pleased anymore...

Wen RuoHan laughed after he heard. “Are you sure about that? Well, I want to see.” (Ch. 49, ERS)

But back to the scene at Koi Tower, it’s funny that the one closest to becoming Wen RuoHan is quite possibly Nie MingJue, the one now respected and feared, the one who fought the most against Jin GuangShan creating the Chief Cultivator seat. Why did Jin GuangShan create the Chief Cultivator seat? Because no one was ever going to respect him or to listen to him, much less respect him and fear his power to let him do whatever he pleased. But even then, Nie MingJue had to travel to Koi Tower to point Baxia while he made his demands. Jin GuangShan and Jin GuangYao had to murder and lie and scheme to get what they wanted. Wei WuXian had to figuratively set himself on fire. Wen RuoHan simply had to call his target of his ire over and he came, and then he let fate run its course.

Wei WuXian, Nie MingJue, Jin GuangShan, Jin GuangYao--none of them ever held even a fraction of the power wielded by Wen RuoHan. A power shown when Lan XiChen and a bunch of other juniors looked at the waterborne abyss and didn’t even dare to speak the name of the Qishan Wen aloud. Our spoiled pig and even rabid dog look to demonic cultivation to gain that fear element since they lack the wow factors of a powerful cultivator. Wei WuXian and Nie MingJue end up dead because a spoiled pig and a treacherous snake want their golden pigsty to go uncontested.

So it’s hard to speak of Wen RuoHan not meeting his potential when all the Sects left in his wake never achieve a fraction of what Wen RuoHan had. And even then, at no point in the story does Wen RuoHan ever wake up in the morning and pick murder, although the same cannot be said for the likes of Wen Chao, Jin GuangYao, Xue Yang, and even Wei WuXian.

So what I’m getting at here is that despite Wen RuoHan’s lack of appearances, we learn a lot about him through other characters trying to either work for or against him or emulate him. And he does face off against one of our protagonists: Nie MingJue! Although that we don’t get to see their first fight in Yangquan when Nie MingJue was fresh is truly frustrating!

Because even though we do get a Wen RuoHan face-off with a protagonist, it’s his assassination that gets all the attention--and it’s because Nie MingJue avoids talking about traumatic experiences and Jin GuangYao already got what he wanted from that event. The mural at Koi Tower immortalizing the assassination of Wen RuoHan is a snapshot of the heroic Jin GuangYao taking out the Big Bad in a glorious moment. It was also, however, a huge red flag that Jin GuangYao is willing to murder someone who gave him respect, protection, and empowerment so long as he could use their blood to pave his road ahead.

I do have to wonder on the degree of Wen RuoHan’s villainy when he didn’t even bother to take the life of his son’s killer and he passed on the opportunity to torture him, too. But no one in the story talks about Wen RuoHan as a person. They talk about Sect Leader Wen as a symbol, and he becomes a symbol of evil.

Everyone becomes so focused on Wen RuoHan as the Big Bad that for all the crimes the spoiled pig and the treacherous snake perpetrate, the majority of the cultivation world responds with, “If this [evil act and/or abuse of power] was done by the Wen Sect, we would be really concerned. Since the people doing it are not-Wens, it can’t be evil and thus we can allow it to happen.”

And thus the Jin get away with doing a lot of evil. Lan XiChen can look at Jin GuangYao and say, “he has his reasons,” because Lan XiChen has been victimized by the Wens and Jin GuangYao murdered Wen RuoHan so surely there is a divide there between good and evil, right and wrong. This is a very convenient way for letting the Jin get away with doing a lot of bad things! Wei WuXian rescuing the Wen Remants, meanwhile, places him conveniently within the Wen-Sect-Is-Bad camp, and we all know how that goes.

So I do agree that Wen RuoHan had all the potential to become a great villain, not just because he has all the power and followers that let him do whatever he wanted but also because the cultivation world sold us the story of him being a monstrous villain who loved blood and torture. But when the other sects create an uprising against the Wen Sect and label it the Sunshot Campaign, not once does Wen RuoHan try to subdue them. Not once does Wen RuoHan ever turn to violence and punishment or slaughter. He had the potential to be a great villain and stomp on all of them! But he doesn’t.

And I don’t think that’s because his potential went unmet. That’s just his character. He is an antagonist with the potential to become a great villain and yet he stays his hand. His power instead draws villains to him like flies to honey. There’s a reason people wear their time spent as a guest cultivator of the Wen Sect with pride! Wen RuoHan is good to his Sect. The perks and benefits cannot be matched.

But it’s not only the dregs of society that come to the Wen Sect and abuse its power. Wen RuoHan has three morally distinct people closest to him that reveal that he has the potential to be well-rounded:

Wen Qing: speaks her mind, a doctor, refuses to kill, intelligent, talented in the liberal arts, accompanies Wen RuoHan to discussion conferences, pays her debts, won’t die for the main branch which is just an alternative of her don’t-kill policy which is don’t-die-for-stupid-shit-customs policy

Wen ZhuLiu: loyal to a fault, dedicated, obedient, was told to protect Wen Chao and does his job incredibly well because this is how he pays his debt to Wen RuoHan for saving him, doesn’t do anything unnecessary, doesn’t speak unnecessary words

Meng Yao: loyal only to himself at the end of the day, prideful, hardworking, scheming, ambitious, supports petty revenge, pro-murder, stabs as a warning, will sell you to satan for one corn chip, does not acknowledge owing debts to anyone but has the receipts on what others owe him

All three characters are respected for their talents and effectively do as Wen RuoHan tells them. Wen Qing leaves for the Yiling Supervisory Office and takes her rational mind with her. Wen ZhuLiu leaves to protect Wen Chao and leaves Wen RuoHan undefended. Meng Yao makes himself useful in Nightless City and thus stays closest to Wen RuoHan’s side. So who is the one speaking in Wen RuoHan’s ear the most? The one saying murder is OK so take revenge.

And even then Wen RuoHan still doesn’t take his revenge, I’m just saying.

But what I’m trying to get at on this scenic route is that Wen RuoHan is left with all this wonderful potential for a reason. Not only do we see his potential but other characters see it, too. His potential is turned into someone else’s profit. Nie MingJue claims that Wen Qing should have spoken up more, which implies Wen RuoHan has the potential for change or even to do good. The majority, however, persist on not just his potential but his status as a great evil. The characters in the story make Wen RuoHan into the penultimate evil by a post-war consensuses. With that, the ceiling is pushed so high that other evils are able to bloom in the glass house they’ve made.

“Whatever we do can never be as bad as what Wen RuoHan and the Wen Sect did,” the cultivation world says as they let a mass murderer run rampant, as people are used for demonic cultivation test subjects, as prisoners of war are beaten and killed, as a dozen women are raped and murdered for petty revenge, as brother betrays brother, as a father murders his innocent son for political gain, as juniors are kidnapped and used as bait...

So absolutely Wen RuoHan was a catalyst for many events because people either wanted to be him, have him in their fighting corner, or kill him. He perpetuated events by wanting to correct the cultivation world as he saw fit by indoctrinating juniors in the Wen Sect ways or by setting up supervisory offices to prevent rebellious behavior. He delegated these tasks which put people in positions of power that they only saw fit to abuse.

But Wen RuoHan’s potential to be a great villain competes with his inherent lack of interest in causing death and destruction. I think that makes him not just a compelling antagonist compared to all the others but a fascinating character in general. Considering MDZS gets praised for all its morally grey characters, I don’t think Wen RuoHan should be left out of the conversation.

#this is so long and it probably doesn't make any sense lol #but since anon sent the ask again i shall give you this~!#how does one talk about wrh idk idk idk!#i just think he's neat #wrh is responsible for everything that happened while he was sect leader #just stating that here in case it didn't come across well enough in the post #but i do think wrh delegated a lot and he trusted a lot #and the fact his sect had many incompetent ppl and meng yao #means there is a disconnect between what wrh wanted and implementation #wen ruohan #asked from above #anon #mdzs thoughts

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akvtsuki-ari · 4 years

Text

Semantics

Warnings: dom!spencer, sub!reader, choking, throatfucking, dirty talk, fucking through clothes, humiliation/degradation

Length: 5.4k

Authors Note: idk how to explain the plot of this fic all that well but i hope yall like this! by the way, the two positions Spencer puts you in is the prison guard position and the pole positon, in that order i spent some time on it and i hope yall like it lmfaosjdkh

Plot Summary: You and Spencer could date other people but you both knew that it wouldn’t matter in the end.

There are few things to consider as a universal truth but some things just are. An example of that is here ;the only difference between fucking and making love were semantics. Most things in life are - semantics being the study of meaning in linguistics . As far as our universe knows, sex is an act born only out of necessity and frustration. The need to have sex to make life or the need to have sex because your body was responding to its urges and desires, aka frustration

Maybe in a lot of ways, your need to frustrate Spencer was innate to your humanity. An urge that speaks from generations past. It’s hard to say for sure why it’s happened but you both know how - it’s what has both of you in the place you are now.

Several months ago you and Spencer started hooking up. Casual sex and late night conversation at best, before life picked up any remaining free time and the both of you returned to back to reality. It was a stress reliever, a good time with no strings attached and no stakes involved. You wanted it that way and so did he - but shit always changes. Even when things aren’t supposed to be so complicated they are - because it’s almost inevitable that someone is going to catch feelings. Someone is going to feel something out for the other person or hell - someone else and things are just bound to get sticky and tangled. That’s the nature of casual endeavors - they’re designed to be ephemeral so when the date passes it all becomes complicated. Scintilla, a spark that passes through cold air and then disappears. That’s what hook-ups are intended for but you and Spencer just never figured out how to follow the rules. Neither of you were good at that.

It’s unclear who broke them first - whether your feelings of jealousy were the catalyst for what becomes of both of you. Was it Spencer for indulging her? Was it Spencer’s fault for whispering sweet nothings in her neck when he knew when you were watching? Or was it yours for retaliating? Too stubborn in your own regard to let him win. Spencer wasn’t really one for mind games of this kind but he couldn’t control himself it seemed like. It’s hard to say who started it - two parties indulging in lust-driven pettiness.

Her name started with an S, but you always managed to forget it. She was pretty, eyes low and so interested in Spencer. Her hands would wrap around his shoulders, resting her head on them when he was looking away. She’d drape herself over him at any chance and Spencer would whisper sweet-nothings to her. Laugh with her and look to you, eyes not full of challenge but faux neutrality. Spencer’s neck would always crane to look at her with surprise but you knew better.

It bothered you for a while, but who were you to be caught in a love triangle? He’s the one who had to live with it, after all - every time he was in-between your legs, he’d know she was never you. Still - you weren’t one to give up so quickly and Spencer was waiting on it. Check in 3 moves, your turn.

Imitation is the biggest form of flattery so when you walked into the function with a man on your hip - he wasn’t surprised. He watched the man who followed you in, the way his eyes were all over you. The way you sat on his lap, giving him all your time and attention - stroking his ego just because. You’d giggle at the shared promises, the feeling of his hands on your back. He was gentlemanly with you, carefully paying attention to you and no one else. He was handsome enough to get approached but he’d show disinterest before returning to you. He was moth to flame, but who was surprised? A woman as beautiful as you could do less to achieve that and you just happened to be so much more.

Every work function of any scale, your plus ones would follow you in as you and Spencer would speak to each-other in careful language. It was subtlety that was key because the two of you were the only people who knew that this was happening. It was behind the scenes a love story born of shadows, if you could call it that at all.

Penelope’s Christmas party was the beginning of the end, really.

“How’s Tyler?,” Spencer’s voice is minimal. You were impressed that he managed a name. He looks at you as you pour a glass of wine and you look back, flashing him a smile.

”He’s good. In the other room talking to Rossi and Tara about cars, I think,” you explain softly, wistfully. Spencer looks at the way you talk about him and a part of him seethes. Always does.

“How’s Sarah?,” you ask warmly. You bite your tongue as you talk but it’s killing you. He looks at you, brows quirked smiling back.

“She’s good. Her and Penelope are talking about cats,” Spencer laughs warmly. You hate the way he sounds about it. You want nothing more than to argue with him.

Speak of the devil, you figure. Sarah walks towards Spencer, immediately wrapping herself around Spencer’s side. She whispers something in Spencer’s ear and he smiles, whispering something back before looking to you, eyes full of challenge. You don’t say anything, smiling back at him before you sit up on the kitchen counter. Spencer watches as your skirt hiked up - the garter around your thigh making him... distracted. You just look at him for a second, looking into his expression before getting irritated.

Tyler walks in soon after and you give him a small smile. Sarah is quick to say hello to him and he returns it with ease. He’s polite, always is.

“You ready to go Y/N,” He asks kindly. You give him a grin, wrapping arms around his neck and drawing him in, burying your face in his neck before nodding. He laughs for a second and looks at you as you lift yourself up.

“Weirdo,” he jokes. You scrunch your expression up at him before looking at Spencer. His jaw is tight - you win.

“We’re gonna hit the hay, y’all, I’ll see you tomorrow though,” you say back. Spencer just nods, awarding you a tight lipped smile.

“See you,” his voice is a distant sound as you walk with Tyler.

_____

But, hook-ups were ephemeral, predestined to be anything but long-lasting and in order for things not to get sticky it was only a week after that you and Tyler broke things off. Tyler was too kind for you to let things get too messy. So you didn’t, and for you that was the end of road. Spencer was well... Spencer, still.

The game was still on, but you had no moves for now. You figured for now you just go and have fun, see what happened.

That would work better than you wanted. The next function was Tara’s birthday. She was disappointed that you and Tyler had ended things but was happy to hear you two were friends. You wish you could explain everything else to her but you figure that it’s obsolete.

Spencer was there with Sarah, eyeing you as the both of them sat in the corner. He watched you carefully, not frustrated just... interested.

He catches the way you look to the people around you - listening intently. Your eyes would flash with challenge while you and Luke played drinking games, truth or dare. He watched the way you talked to Luke, confident and excited. He watched the way you danced and ignored him, and it was getting to him more than he wanted to admit.

There was something in the universe that said this was it. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how to explain it. He knew the moment Sarah said she needed to go home, the moment he walks into the kitchen and sees you swaying to music while you poured yourself a drink. The way you talked to him - mostly sober but tipsy enough to just speak candidly. Spencer was in for it, that much was so goddamn obvious now.

“Where’s Sarah?,” your voice is curious.

“Went home, she has a long day tomorrow. For work,” he clarified. You hum in response.

“That sucks, you must be bored,” you say honestly. Spencer shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says back. You look at him curiously, eyes reading his expression that seems so far out.

“She’s sweet,” you say earnestly. You stand next to him, sipping your drink as you stare out. Spencer looks over at you and nods.

“You’d know something about that,” his voice is low. You’re a little startled, but you just pick yourself up to walk out of the kitchen.

“Too soon,”

——

Soon the picture was bound to fall together. Sarah and Spencer ended things - on good terms but it didn’t matter. It was just you and Spencer again, stagnant in an impossible place with impossible ends. Months of jealousy and mind games, combined with stubbornness wasn’t going to end in a way that was pretty but maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe that’s what needed to happen.

Spencer broke first. Months of frustration would do that to a man who fucked you like you were the only woman on earth. It was just a text message, it should’ve been just a text message anyways but how could it be? No such thing as simplicity in this universe the two of you shared, one of jealous reminders and sly comments. All that subtext meant that the build up was that much more impactful.

Spencer: How long has it been?

You: Long enough.

You: Checkmate.

Spencer: Good game, Y/N.

It probably wouldn’t make a lick of sense to anyone else but you and Spencer just knew. You knew what it was - an invitation to come over like you’d done so many times before. It was a recognition that the game was over and it was up to you to reap the benefits of your long-term, maddening and frustrating endeavors.

——-

The drive to Spencer’s house was taking more time than it normally did. You knocked at his door and when you opened it, there Spencer was. He was pretty.

“Come in,” Spencer’s voice was low. The whole environment was thick with an immediate feeling of lust - derived of painfully long and drawn out arguing. It was foreplay in its own right, you suppose.

It was instantaneous. Like the second the door shut behind you, Spencer backed you into a wall - shedding your coat while his hands found themselves underneath your blouse. He hikes your leg up to his side as he looks at you, down into your eyes as his lips and breath ghost over yours. Your breathing is so fast you’re afraid you might pass out. You can’t help yourself whimper. Spencer voice borders visceral.

“You’re gonna drive me fucking insane,” Spencer comments. You hold your eye contact.

“I always was,” you challenge Spencer still. You were determined to piss him off as much as humanly possible because you needed him to own you.

Spencer can’t hold out for another second as his lips press against yours. Open mouthed kisses that are carried over and drawn out, as Spencer’s hands grip your thighs - pushing his hips to yours. He’s so eager to touch you - fuck you over and over again until you’re too tired to speak. Spencer was ready to do things to you that he’d never let himself do before. When his teeth tug at you bottom lip, tongue let reckless along your lips as he kisses you deeper - you know he’s been thinking of you. He’s indulging his own selfish desires by kissing you this way and he knows it. You kiss him back with just as much frustration and anger.

It needs to be everything. It needs to fulfill your needs and desires that have been growing for the last few months and you’ll fuck him till sunrise, sit on his face and disrespect him till he gets it. That he’s yours just as much as your his.

You and Spencer kiss like there’s no oxygen left, but you pull back from Spencer to breathe. Your chest rising and falling as Spencer looks at you - really looks at you. His eyes are full of fire.

“Don’t you wanna talk, Spencer?,” your voice is biting. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“You start,” Spencer comments, picking you up as he buries his face in your neck. You smile for a second as he carries you to his bedroom.

“Was she good?,” it’s your first question of the night, Spencer shrugs as he lays you down. His fingers work to unbutton your blouse, eyes glued to your chest. Lace, it was new but not new enough to be for him. A purposeful move on your part as Spencer’s fingers work their way around your back, unclasping it and letting it fall from your frame. You lift your hands up as Spencer slides it off of you - eyes drinking in the sight of you. He hasn’t seen you on display like this and fuck did he miss it. He doesn’t know where to start so he starts at your neck. Kisses being pressed onto your jaw, you relish the way Spencer’s hands find you. They find themselves at your hips, encouraging them to wrap around his waist which you do without question.

Spencer’s lips are soft, his teeth scrape along patches of skin as you crane your neck up so he can get more room. He draws your skin between his lips, sucking softly before kissing the marks, admiring the broken capillaries underneath your skin for a few seconds before continuing. You almost wanna laugh at how much he adores them and they way they decorate your neck.

“She was good,” Spencer replies to you between actions. You’re a little distracted but you had so much you wanted to know still.

“Better than me?,” your voice is bitter. Spencer laughs, pressing his dick against you, before speaking.

“What if she was?,” Spencer replies back.

“Answer the question,” you demand. Spencer looks up at you as your expression shifts into one much more displaced.

He decided to be honest with you.

“Not better than you,” Spencer responds softly, mouth travel down to your chest. His mouth finds your nipples, his tongue flicking against t back and forth. The wet trail it leaves behind a cold sensation that made you a little dizzy to how easy they came to attention. Spencer’s fingers touch them carefully, brushing against them with rhythm. You moan, shivering at them.

You felt good - but you could feel something missing in the endeavor. Spencer was holding back and you could feel it, slowly reverting back to his old ways by keeping you out of his thoughts and you weren’t going to let that happen again.

“Spencer,” you warn. Spencer’s eyes are glassy, but you sit up to look at Spencer. He sits back on his knees and looks at you as you fix yourself up.

“Don’t do this shit,” you explain carefully. Spencer rubs his face with his hands, not saying anything.

You look at him, your chest bubbling with anger and borderline resentment as he stared at you. His expression is unreadable, as his eyes gaze to your body then flick back up to you.

“For fucksake, Spencer - I’m not doing this. Gimme my shit so I can leave,” you say beyond annoyed. This was one of the problems - that Spencer didn’t have the backbone to just be real with you. Not about how he felt, not about how you made him feel. He always counted on you to force the upper hand but not this time. Semantics required that both of you participate accurately to how you feel and it was always your job. When Spencer sees you move, he holds you back and looks into you. His eyes are dark.

“You’re so fucking aggravating, you know that,” Spencer leans into your neck, his hands on your back as you go to move away from him.

“Clearly not,” you complain. Spencer’s hands come around your neck, both of the around your throat as he forces you to look up at him.

“Color?,”

“Green,”

“You wanna know I’m holding back, Y/N,” he says into your ear. You’re too stubborn to choke out a yes.

“Because you’re such a fucking brat and you haven’t earned it,” He speaks into your ears. You can feel his hands grip tightly around the column of your throat.

“Everytime you open your mouth you manage to piss me off. You think it’s cute to be like that, don’t you? ,” His hands release from your neck as you look at him with suprise, trying to hold back your delight. He unzips his pants and pull his cock out.

”Get on your knees,”

“I don’t want to,” you lied between your teeth. You wanted to suck the soul out of Spencer’s body but you needed him to keep this up.

His hands grip your hair and pull tightly. A gasp escapes your mouth as your eyes flutter up to look at him.

“Funny, I don’t remember asking,” Spencer laughs sarcastically, he leans into your ear “Get on your fucking knees,”

You stand up stubbornly and do as your told, keeping your mouth shut as you watch Spencer stand up over you. He’s intimidating like this, his dick clear over your face. He’s huge, which is good and bad.

“Open,” Spencer asks. Your instinct is to open your mouth and stick your tongue out like Spencer had instructed you to do so many times before but you don’t. You look at him dumbly, watch as he hands cup your jaw, tilting your head to look at him.

“It’s only been a few months and you’ve forgotten where you belong so quickly,” Spencer hums. His hands rests on the side of your face as he looks down at you.

“Tyler wasn’t putting you in your place like you deserve to be, no wonder you’ve acted out so much,” he comments, annoyance clear in his voice.

His thumb presses against your lips, forcing your mouth open. You’re quick to oblige after that, your tongue stuck out as you await Spencer.

“Good girl,” The praise is music to your fucking ears. You knew he didn’t want to say, but he meant it and that’s what mattered. You rub your thighs together, as Spencer hits the tip of his cock against tor tongue.

“Before, I would’ve never done this, but you’ve just somehow managed to upset me so much that the prospect of you interrupting my thoughts is so annoying that I just have to make sure I shut you up,” Spencer explains lengthily.

Spencer eases his way to the back of your throat, his hand on the back of your head as he feels his dick hit the back of your throat. Spencer’s bigger than you remember him being, and the idea that he was going to fuck your throat made you sore, voice already disappearing. You just look up at him, through long lashes and Spencer groans.

“Touch yourself and I won’t fuck you for months,” Spencer warns. You damn yourself for wanting to obey him and doing as he says.

Spencer’s hips pullback before he snaps them back to the back of your throat. You choke on and Spencer relishes in the noise. Tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you managed to look up at him. Mascara runs under your eyes as Spencer falls into rhythm, filling your throat with his length at a constant speed. The sounds of you gagging around it filled the room as Spencer’s voice fell to your ears, spit spilling from the corners of your lips. You move your hands to wipe it away and Spencer’s stops you.

“Leave it, you’re prettier like that,”

Jesus Christ.

“You always manage to make me so angry, and I’m honestly kinda impressed by it,” Spencer says softly, groans mixed with his commentary. You hum for him to continue and the sensation makes his leg twitch.

“You’re just so fucking stubborn. If you would’ve told me you were so jealous, I would’ve ended things immediately,” he admits to you.

“Then Tyler came around and I lost my patience,” he explains, fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine,” Spencer repeats. You feel your heart melt.

“Seeing you with Tyler was lesson enough, so I’m gonna fuck you until every memory you had with him is shit compared to how I fuck you,”

“Every mark on your body, my dick down your throat - stretching you out when I fuck you. I should’ve know this was what you wanted really,” Spencer quips. You groan around him - absolutely turned on by his possession.

“You’re a slut for me, and me only, right love?,” Spencer asks you, pulling his dick out from the brutal session as you look to him with a bordering disgusting amount of adoration.

“Yes, sir,” your voice is hoarse as you look up at him. His eyes look at you with so much love as he smiles down at you.

“You’re so good for me,” Spencer says softly. He kisses you softly and slow and you could cry from how pliabld you felt.

“Sir, I love you,” your voice was fucked beyond belief. Spencer’s heart melts at the combination of title and sub space. He kisses you softly, petting your hair and wiping your chin of spit.

“I love you too, princess,” He says, making sure that you two talk about it later. “You still want it rough, sweetheart?,” he asks checking up on you. You appreciate the sentiment but you shake your head with vigor.

“If you don’t fuck me like a total brat I’m going to be unbelievably upset,” you say, the sad thought sobering you up immediately. He laughs aloud, kissing you again.

“Okay, what’s your safeword?,” Spencer asks.

“Gren for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop,” you repeat obediently. Spencer smiles.

“Get on the bed for me,” Spencer says softly. You oblige fast, holding your legs in the air as Spencer kneels between your legs. Your legs wrap around his shoulders pulling him closer and he chuckles.

Spencer’s rock hard, thinking about the outfit you chose for him. White cotton panties that left a mess all over your thighs and clit. The stain between your legs makes it hard for Spencer to slow down.

Spencer places a kiss on your clit, swollen and untouched, your cry immediately in his ear, your hands gripping his hair as he places kisses all over your clothed pussy, your skirt pushed over your stomach. His fingers hook into your underwear, sliding them down, and letting you maneuver your legs to slide them off. You go to take the skirt off but Spencer stops you.

“Leave it,” He breathes out. You nod, biting your lip as you feels Spencer lips work around your clit. He doesn’t make you wait long, and you’re not sure whether or not you should be grateful or scared for whats to come.

Spencers mouth is terribly skillfully, his tongue licking a long swipe - collecting arrousal in his mouth before spitting it back onto your clit. You were a goner before this but watching Spencer do something so filthy really pushed you to the edge. You grinded against his mouth but he pushes your hips down. He uses his fingers to spread you, eyeing how wet you are before closing his eyes - tongue placing long flat swipes along it. Your clit pulsates as he buries his face between your legs - tongue placing minmal pressure it as his head bob up and down. Spencer was so good at giving head it was kind of annoying. He’d draw you close to the edge a few times like that, watching as your legs shake before he slows down again -mpaying attention to your thighs and waist everytime he watched you come down from your high.

“Spencer, please let me cum - please,”

“Please what?,”

“Please sir,” your voice escapes you as you hear Spencer chuckles looking at you pathetically. He shakes his head.

“Brats don’t get to cum so soon, you wanna cum - you have to earn it remember?,” Spencer reminds. You whine at the reminder, immediately protesting.

“I did earn it, I did,” your argument is meaningless but you wanted to cum - needed to cum and if he doesn’t give it to you soon you were going to cry.

“Aw, is that so? You behaving while I facefucked you means you earned an orgasm huh? That’s news to me, love,” Spencer says sarcastically. You aren’t sure how you could be more turned on but here you were. Spencer could be so biting when he wanted to be and it drove you up the wall.

“God,” you were infuriatingly turned on. Spencer strips of his shirt and pants, leaving the both of you in similar positions. You lay in wait for further instructions, but catch Spencer admiring you for a second. You hide your face in your hand and Spencer refrains from saying anything. He wants to tell you you’re so cute and that he loves you but he’s still supposed to be being mean to you - so his hands are tied.

“Stand up,” Spencer instructs. You oblige, stretching a bit as you do. Spencer comes behind you, pressing his dick against your backside as his voice is drawn next to your ear.

“You wanna cum don’t you?,” Spencer asks. You nod, chewing the inside of your lip.

“But, I already told you you have to earn didn’t I?,” Spencer repeats, you nod again.

“Use your words,” Spencer orders. Your voice croaks out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then bend over with your hands behind your back and take it for me, will you?,” Spencer instructs. You do as your told, bending down, placing your hands behind your back. You feel Spencer's hands grip around your wrist - holding you up as he lines himself up at your entrance. It’s a slow, aching burn. Your more wet than you can really fathom being, but Spencer manages to make you feel tight. Every inch of him slowly gnawing you from the inside but it feels so good. It aches so good - you don’t recall the last time you felt this fucking full. Spencer was sunken into you so deeply, it felt like he belonged there. Like every claim about your body is his when he fucks you wasn’t just showy shit-talk but facts, plain and simple. You didn’t really know it could feel that good to get fucked before this and it could’ve been anything that made it so maddening.

Spencer's hips pound you out. You can’t feel everytime he speeds up, slows down, moves up or draws the gesture out. Your body aches, but the position is so goddamn perfect - hitting your g spot, pressing up against it so forcefully - you feel your legs threaten to give out everytime he hits it. It’s fucking ridiculous - fucking ridiculous how good fucking one person could be but Spencer proved himself every damn time.

“Wanna fuck you on the bed, love,” Spencer leans down to whisper. You let Spencer rebalance you as you stand up, and Spencer pulls out. You whimper, missing the feeling of him in you, but you soon feel Spencer's arms around you.

“You’re too pretty to make such filthy noises, my love,” Spencer whispers “But that’s what sluts do, don’t they? Be pretty and filthy all at once,”

You’re really incoherent. You want to say something that makes sense, argue back and fight with him but your desire to cum so hard you black out is much stronger than any urge you may have had to fight. You don’t know how to do anything but whine, so high-pitched and needy you feel like your voice could crack and disappear. Spencer just laughs.

He lays down, and awaits you. You managed to get on the bed, facing away from Spencer as you throw your legs on either side of him. He bends his knee, as you turn to straddle his thigh - pressed against your clit. He clenches the muscle and you feel your legs shake.

“Sir, please tell me I’ve earned it,” are the first words that leave your lips as you begin griding against Spencers thighs, riding his dick to the point your thighs felt like they’d give out at any second. Spencer groans at the feeling of you convulsing, so close to the edge. Spencer just nods.

“You’re such a good girl for me, of course you can cum for me,” Spencer says lovingly, voice missing any trace of disrespectful strict dom Spencer. Replaced with adoring Spencer in an instant.

“Fuck, fuck - Spencer, thank you. Oh my god, thank you,” you hold onto Spencer's legs as your orgasm breaks the tension rope that was holding it back. You’re unknotted, the feeling of pleasure clawing at all the aches that appeared all over your body, your skin burning. Your stomach was full of butterflies, all releasing at the same time as your entire body convulsed around Spencer. It was earth-shattering - your body struggling to keep up as you cum the hardest you have in months. It was so fucking good, the type of orgasm that keeps you awake for days at a time.

You breathe out, steady yourself as you slide off of Spencer and get on all fours infront of him. You take his dick into your mouth, sucking on the tip before taking all of it in your mouth. Spencer groans aloud as he finished into your throat, and you swallow without hesitation. Spencer looks at you so adoringly right after, as you crawl onto his chest and lay on him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles at you so brightly, it could blind you.

“You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you,” Spencer praises. You blush hiding in his chest, looking at him with disgraceful amounts of affection.

“You ready for aftercare?,”

You nod lazily, before Spencer sits up and whisks you away to the shower.

___

You knew that you were in love with Spencer a while ago - but until now you hadn’t realize just how much you missed him. His fingers were massaging shampoo into your hair, the shower lightly pouring on the both of you as you made idle and loving conversation. There was a suprising about of things to catch up on. Spencer kissed your shoulders as he continued on.

“I liked Sarah, you know,” you say softly. Spencer is confused by your sudden statement.

“I really did - but at the time I just figured we were just having sex so it made me jealous when I saw you with her. I didn’t know how to tell you so I just let it be but it was killing me,” you confess honestly, wiping your nose as you sniffled. Spencer wrapped his arms around your back and kissed your neck - softly pressing kisses to all the bruises from the moments before. You leaned into him and sighed and he held you for a long while.

“We were never anything more than casual,” Spencer assures you. You nod, turning around to face him. Your arms envelope Spencer, holding him close to you with your face carefully in the crook of his neck.

“I know, but still, sex is just sex and the rest is semantics isn’t it,”

“Well, yeah. It means something to me when I do this to you. You’re my world, so it means I love you. Maybe it looks the same but it feels so different, it feels right when it’s you,” Spencer says sadly. You look up at him tear eyed and he smiles at you.

“I love you, Spencer,” you say softly. He hugs you and makes you feel so safe. Even after all the words and glances and difficulties Spencer shows you in bed - he gives you twice that in love without question. He makes you feel whole, even when he was the one who unraveled you. He adores you, so clearly and you adore him too.

___

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dom!spencer #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #lmfaooo this was a wild ride to write but hope yall like lmfao

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brandstifter-sys · 4 years

Text

Since I missed Remus’ birthday x_x please take this dukexiety mess as an apology

Dead?

Word Count: 1944

Pairings: Dukexiety (background royaliceit)

Rating: T

Warnings: death mention, intersex enby remus, sex mention, frog mention, spider mention, sibling rivalry

Virgil is just an ordinary necromancer with friends in high places. He goes off exploring on a quest to find a white stag and finds something, well someone, who looks like they’re sleeping in the middle of a tomb that’s been sealed off for a century. It’s one heck of a shock to accidentally raise the dead, if that’s the case, and even more of a shock because Remus is....themself.

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There were legends and stories that circulated the kingdom, all of them fantastical and hard to believe. Most of the time there was some sort of inaccuracy in the legend, like the story of the princess cursed to sleep for a hundred years with her whole kingdom, only to be woken by true love’s kiss. She woke up after a hundred years and went ballistic, screaming at her father for not inviting the thirteenth fairy to her first birthday party, but that was ages ago, and like her parents, she angered the fae as well. Her two children were hit with a similar curse, but unlike her, her children would sleep for eternity until their true loves came. She never told them.

The legend got marred over time, so that people only remembered one of the children. No one believed that legend until recently, when Prince Janus, recently married to the man who he saved from his own curse, found the old tower and investigated. He found Prince Roman and woke him, not giving details on how he did it. It was fine because Janus and his husband, Patton, were madly in love and madly in love with Roman. Too bad Roman didn’t mention that he wasn’t the only one cursed in that tower.

...

It was a rather overcast day when Prince Patton suggested his oldest friend go investigate reports of a white stag in the forest. If change was afoot, Virgil would be the first to tell if it was a blessing or a curse. Virgil reluctantly agreed, if only because Patton made puppy-dog eyes at him. Those puppy-dog eyes were going to kill him someday, and he was the only person he couldn’t resurrect. The things he did for his friends.

That’s what led him deep into the woods, beyond where most people dared to tread. He hated the looming feeling of foreboding nipping at his heels, the way the wind whispered his name. But he kept going, always glancing back, and always moving on when there was no threat. He only considered turning back when he found the tower where Roman was sleeping before. There was no reason to go beyond the boundary of the kingdom, especially with a crumbling ruin in the way.

The door was still open, hanging on its hinges, just as Janus left it. Virgil neared it, just to see what level of stupid Janus reached when he found the tower. But something caught his eye. There was a trap door at the foot of the spiral stairs. Something about it called to the nervous necromancer, and he couldn’t fight the urge to investigate.

Virgil coughed when he opened the door and a cloud of dust hit him in the face. Covering his nose with his cloak, he descended the stairway he revealed, using the magic gem on his walking staff to light his way.

The walls were lined with bones, artfully placed to scare the average person away. Virgil worked with death, it was more of a comfort to be surrounded by it, even if he accidentally reanimated a few bodies when he was startled. If this detour didn’t reveal something new and useful, it would still be fun to tell Prince Roman that he was asleep over a tomb for however long he was there. He would probably cringe at that information.

Something was certainly there, a door that looked ancient with dark hinges and an even darker stain. It radiated magic, making Virgil’s hair stand on end. He could handle a few zombies if he had to, so he flipped his bangs out of his face and pressed forward.

He opened the heavy door with some effort and stepped inside. The room was simple stone with old green tapestries and a stone slab in the center. The green curtains around it were drawn, displaying a body that showed no signs of decay. The person looked like Roman, but they had a mustache and longer hair. Virgil stared at them, wondering what kind of magic kept a dead person so well-preserved. They had to be dead, Roman was trapped for over a century, sure, but he had some kind of air flow at the top of the tower. This person, they didn’t, and they weren’t breathing or twitching like a normal sleeping person. Virgil was confused.

BAM!

“Holy shit!” Virgil yelped and spun around when the door slammed shut. He hastily tried to open it and breathed a sigh of relief when it moved.

“Ack! What the hell!?” a voice yelped from behind him. Virgil’s heart stopped. Not again. He turned around to see the person, sitting upright, glancing around the room. Their eyes landed on Virgil, and a smile crossed their confused features.

“Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?” they asked with way too much enthusiasm.

“We’re in a crypt under a cursed tower,” Virgil answered slowly, gripping his staff tightly, “and I accidentally disturbed your resting place.”

“I was dead!?” they gawked, “And I don’t have any maggots to show for it!?”

“Yeah I thought that was weird too. But it’s probably been over a hundred years for you so I’m gonna go ahead and put you down again.”

“Aw, do you have to? You’re the first person to talk to me since my brother before he got cursed! And he yelled at me for putting a frog in his shirt! Can I stay undead just a little while?” they pleaded and fluttered their lashes. Virgil blinked twice as their words hit him.

“Who are you?”

“Me? Well I’m Princex Remus! Second in line for the throne! Who are you?”

“I’m Virgil, a necromancer, but you probably figured that out already. You said your brother was cursed.”

“Oh yeah, him,” Remus pouted, “He turned 18 and then he went into a major coma. Mom said it was her fault and we had to keep him safe. Let’s not talk about him, I’d rather know about you, VeeVee.”

“I hate that nickname,” Virgil deadpanned.

"Virgilicious?"

"I'm not responding to that."

“Scare Bear?”

“Sure,” Virgil huffed, expecting the list to go on if he didn’t stop it there and then.

“Okay, Scare Bear! So what is a snack like you doing in a place like this?”

“I was on a mission for the three princes–Patton, Janus, and Roman–and then I stumbled across this place and got curious.”

“Roman!? He woke up!? Okay you gotta take me to him right now! I’ll come back and stay dead but I gotta see him! I owe him a century’s worth of ramblings!”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Nope! He got cursed and passed out and wouldn’t get up until his true love woke him! I set him in the tower and came down here to relax with the decomposed after that workout!”

“And then?”

“That’s the last thing I remember! That guy had some nerve getting cursed at the bottom of the stairs, I might be strong and nimble but mommy’s favorite is as heavy as he is whiny!”

“Shit," Virgil grumbled as he tried to put the pieces together, "Let me try something." Remus watched him expectantly. The gem in his staff glowed a bright purple, as did his eyes. Remus couldn't understand the words slipping from his lips but that double voice was doing something for them. He was trying to put Remus back. It wasn’t working!

“That was cool! Can you magic me a pair of big ol honkers?” Remus cheered and clapped their hands. Virgil’s shoulders sagged and his face fell, his eyes losing the purple glow.

“I’m a necromancer, I can only raise the dead.”

“And my dick!”

“Right, yeah, okay, point is you’re not dead, you were asleep for a century.”

“Just like Ro-hoe?! Then that means—”

“Oh no,” Virgil groaned. He did not sign up for this. He was too aro for this. Remus was cute and hyper but he wasn’t sure how they’d handle a full on rejection. It could get ugly.

“Oh yes!” Remus giggled, “It was the same curse, you woke me up, you’re my true love! This calls for a celebration! No one should love me so it’s a huge deal!”

“Wait, what?”

“We should definitely make out!”

“You have near-death breath, and more self-hatred issues than me. I'll pass."

"Self-hatred issues? Me!? No! I just don't do that romance shit and I was born in between! That's why I didn't think I would be cursed like Prince No-Bone! But I was and you woke me! We’re gonna be bestest friends! With benefits!”

“I know Roman, if you’re like him, there’s no benefits whatsoever.”

“Ha! I like you! We’re gonna be besties! Let’s go so I can show off that I got a hot soulmate and make Ro jealous!” Remus cheered and jumped to their feet full of life and running on sibling spite.

“Don’t. Just tell him I raised your corpse. He’ll shit himself," Virgil countered and leaned on his staff with a dastardly smirk. Remus had never had someone come up with something else to torment the precious firstborn. It was too good to be true.

“I’m starting to think I did die and went to heaven,” Remus mumbled. Virgil shook his head and stood up.

"Sorry to disappoint but if I'm here it's hell."

"You are selling me on this whole soulmate business! C'mon let's go get some embalming fluid and really sell it! And some frogs! Ooh maybe there’ll be some mama frogs out there with their eggs in their backs! Trypophobia and even more frogs! Roman’ll shit a brick."

“The frogs aren’t gonna cut it this time. He’s got two husbands, and one of them was a frog for most of his life.”

“No frogs?” Remus pouted.

“If you can give up the green, salamanders would work,” Virgil shrugged and pushed the door open with just as much effort as when he opened it. He didn’t catch the bright grin that crossed Remus’ face, but the body slam to his back when he got that damn door open, he didn’t miss that!

“You’re right! Or maybe I could use worms! Or spiders!”

“Just don’t touch mine. Gigi just finished molting,” Virgil grunted and balanced himself.

“You have spiders! Ooh! You have to show me! Spiders are so cute!”

“Don’t eat them.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, that would be awful!” they laughed, then purred “But if you wanna give me something better to eat---” Virgil jolted and stumbled back when the frisky little whirlwind grabbed his butt.

“Give me a good enough reason once we’re out of here, and I’ll consider it,” he huffed and led Remus to the stairway.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you can convince me. But don’t hold your breath.”

“You know if I die and you want some action all you have to do is bring me back! You look like you’d enjoy some zombie fun, and I’m just a rotten kind of cute when I don’t get startled awake!”

“Don’t you have some sibling scheming to do?”

“Yeah, and I have to get back to arting and training and pranks and making people uncomfortable with my existence, that last one is my specialty!”

“Then let’s go. You need to get started on all those things soon.”

“I’m not making you uncomfortable?”

“I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. Maybe it is that soulmate bs,” he teased and led Remus into the world again. Maybe the soulmate thing wasn’t bs, and maybe it was the best day of either of their lives, they just hadn’t realized it yet.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #dukexiety #royaliceit mention #roceit mention #moceit mention #royality mention #sex mention tw #death mention tw #frog mention tw #spider mention tw #sandyscribed

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chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

The Other You - 15

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Fresh from a shower, Marinette plopped on her bed face down and grunted, hiding her flaming face in a pillow.

What was wrong with her?

Why was she such an idiot and a weakling? Couldn’t she have said no to Adrien and his stupid lunch? Why on Earth did she think this was a good idea? Especially with her apparent inability to stay anywhere close to that man for more than five minutes at a time and not have her stupid crush rear its ugly head at the slightest sign of attention from his side.

Not fully her fault though because why the hell did Adrien have to be all kinds of perfect and so over the top extra? It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t natural. Men like him didn’t exist in the real world. It was some kind of witchcraft because how else could he have managed to make her feel so much at ease that by the end of that cursed lunch Marinette didn’t even notice as she let all remnants of her past hurt drift away? Witchcraft! Humanly impossible!

And Felix! That genius weirdo! She was going to kill him… after Fashion Week… for the crime of looking so incredibly much like Adrien. If he looked like anybody but his French cousin, Marinette would’ve never gotten used to seeing that face around herself and slowly lowered her guard around either of the men sharing the uncanny similarity. She would’ve stayed cautious around Adrien and would’ve never allowed him an opportunity to sneak back into her heart. She pursed her lips, grunting into her comforter. Was it too farfetched to assume that Adrien hired Felix specifically for that reason? Because his similar looks and flirty behaviour would slowly charm her into lowering her defences around Adrien? Preposterous but possible!

Her cell phone vibrated. Marinette grabbed it, pushing the thought away. Adrien didn’t deserve any more of her time for what he’d done to her today.

Alya: So, how did it go?

Ugh. Not Alya too. They hardly spoke about Adrien in recent weeks. Alya was avoiding the subject, probably thinking Marinette still hated him. Marinette didn’t want to bring him up because Adrien confused her. All of her assumptions, all of the beliefs she held about him were rapidly crumbling down and until Marinette got a hold of herself and her emotions, she preferred to avoid talking about him as well. The only reason Alya even knew about their lunch was because Marinette let information about the unexpected invitation slip in one of their calls. Like a true reporter, Alya couldn’t let her off the hook without learning the name of the person who invited her.

Marinette: How did what go? My day? Long and hard. Home now. About to start cooking.

Alya: Your date with Adrien, M. How did your unexpected date with your new boss/former enemy go?

Marinette scoffed. It wasn’t a date! She knew that for certain because Adrien made sure to correct their waiter when he’d voiced the same assumption about the pair’s relationship status. She couldn’t blame the waiter for assuming, though, because Adrien Freaking Agreste didn’t just pop into her office with his lunch box as she had assumed he would when he asked her that morning if she was free to talk about some business over lunch. Oh, no! He freaking dressed up and took her to an upscale cafe where he had reserved a freaking VIP lounge for them—per his words—‘to talk about work in privacy’, all while looking stupidly handsome and very smug about it. Of course, the waiter would assume it was a date. Which it wasn’t!

As for how it went?

Horribly wrong!

Disastrously so!

Cautious and wary at first, both of them slowly relaxed as the lunch went on, and soon enough not only they were laughing and joking around, but Marinette dared to say there were even a few moments where he flirted with her. Also, she was pretty sure Adrien had chosen his clothes strategically to show off that toned and lean body of his.

Marinette yelled into her pillow, banging her feet against her bed. Why couldn’t he have become bald or something? Or gain a few dozen extra pounds? Lose some teeth? Smell like a dump truck? Become a bully? Why did Adrien have to be so perfect? And why did he have to be such a gentleman and attentive and let everything she’d once loved about him shine through as he made her feel like the most beautiful and amazing woman in the room, all while they talked business and business alone? How did he manage that? How dare he still linger around her thoughts even now? And why did sharing a meal with him somehow feel so familiar and nice and warm and comforting and just wonderful despite all of her reservations and initial awkwardness?

It had to be some kind of magic. A spell, perhaps. Or a potion. Some sort of witchcraft or sorcery for sure. Hadn’t she sensed that he was a danger back at Gabriel’s office during their first encounter after so long? She should’ve stayed away. But nooo! She just had to go and naively fall for his tricks. Something Marinette wouldn’t admit to anyone. Not to Alya. Not to Adrien. Certainly not to herself. She typed furiously.

Marinette: It wasn’t a date. It was a business lunch and it was nothing special. We talked about work, specifically my collection and Fashion Week.

Alya: But, girl, you couldn’t stand even his name being mentioned a month ago. Now you’re going on a non-date lunch with him. What happened?

Marinette: He’s my boss, Alya. I can’t refuse his lunch invitation if I want my collection out for Fashion Week.

Alya: Girl, it’s Adrien. You can’t seriously think he’d do something like that. Don’t tell me you went through with this ONLY because you were afraid to lose your job?

Marinette stared at the message in hesitation. Nibbling on her lip, she closed her eyes and flipped on her back with a sigh. She could’ve said there was only fear behind her motivation, but the truth was—there was none at all. Not after Adrien’s apology. Not after she’d learned his side of the story. Not after she’d had a chance to think it over, analyze her life, and see where working at Gabriel had really led her. Not after she’d admitted, if only to herself, that maybe Adrien was right after all.

He had always been nothing but a loyal friend to her before that incident. If not for her nursing a fresh heartbreak at the time and him daring to compromise one of her biggest dreams, Marinette would’ve surely given him the benefit of the doubt. But it was horrible timing. They both were vulnerable. He had made a mistake. She had reacted in the worst way possible.

Time had passed, though. They both had learned their lesson. He apologized and had done so sincerely. And maybe it was some kind of magic, or maybe Marinette just had a weakness for him, but as Adrien was inviting her to that business lunch she couldn’t find it in her to refuse despite her initial hesitation. Perhaps she was curious to learn more about this new, more mature Adrien. He had been slipping into her thoughts more frequently these days. Maybe she wanted to see if that friendship Adrien was so eagerly hinting at rekindling was even possible. Or maybe she just wanted to have lunch with someone other than Felix and his wacky character for once. However genius her assistant was, being around him all day only made Marinette crave, even if secretly, the softer, more genuine, and definitely more stable personality of his cousin. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fear that got Marinette to agree to Adrien’s invitation.

Marinette: Well, not just because of that. We did talk about the past and he apologized for his actions, and since we’re stuck working together for the next while and he’s been helping me out with my collection, I thought maybe I could try to be a little friendlier with him.

She could see the three dots appearing and disappearing as Alya typed for a while only for a short question to appear.

Alya: Then PURELY HYPOTHETICALLY—do you think it’s possible for you two to be friends again? Sometime in the future at least?

Marinette chuckled. Adrien had mentioned he was going to see Nino for lunch in a few days and that he hoped the second time around it would go better. She wasn’t surprised at all. In a way, Marinette had expected it to happen because cutting all contact with Adrien was just as hard for Nino as it was for her. Having found out the truth now, Marinette was certain that Nino was itching to rekindle his friendship with Adrien. Under any other circumstances, Marinette might have taken that as a betrayal, but not now. Not when she knew the truth as well, and certainly not after she had gone to lunch with Adrien herself and still blushed at the memory of him kissing her hand as he dropped her off at her studio afterwards.

Marinette: Is this about Nino and Adrien trying to salvage their friendship and me being mad at Nino about that?

She hit Send and glanced at the clock. Eight already. Time to get back to the kitchen and finish cooking before Chat Noir showed up. Speaking of the devil… Chat Noir was as much at fault here as everyone else… if not more! Because while there was an unspoken agreement to hold off with a romantic relationship until better times between them, couldn’t he be more insistent or reckless when it came to Ladybug? Couldn’t he take her in his arms and proclaim his eternal love for her? Couldn’t he tell her he didn’t know how to live without her? Shower her with presents and attention? She’d probably be pissed at him for doing so, but at least she wouldn’t be so attention-starved right now to react to Adrien the way she did. Because that was all it was—a natural yearning for someone to notice her, for someone to look at her like she was their world, for someone to gently kiss her hand and open a door for her like a true gentleman that was so rare these days. She just wanted someone to love her the way she was, knowing all her faults and quirks, and not care the slightest about it.

Was that too much to ask of him?

Grunting, Marinette stomped to the kitchen, ignoring her beeping cell phone until all the remaining ingredients for their meal were out and she’d checked the stewing beef. One more beep reminded her of Alya on the line just before she started cutting the vegetables.

Alya: Maybe?

Alya: Yes. OTL

Alya: I’m sorry, M, but neither Nino nor I knew how to tell you and we do realize that Adrien hurt you and maybe we’re being bad friends here, but you know Nino. He wouldn’t sleep if he thinks he didn’t treat someone fairly and in this case, we kind of did just that. He’s dead set on making it right with Adrien. They’re having one more lunch this Saturday and he’s planning to do whatever it takes for it to go better than the last one.

Alya: Marinette? Say something cause I’m freaking out over here.

Alya: Anything?

Alya: You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?

Alya: You know I love you more than anyone else, right? I’d do anything for you.

Alya: Even break up with Nino. Do you want me to? Because, girl, I’ll do that for you and he can marry Adrien for all I care.

Alya: Ugh! Don’t tell him I said that because he might actually dump me for Adrien. The guy grew up really nice.

Alya: I shouldn’t have said that…

Alya: UGH! The man is ugly! He’s hideous! Just look at his Apollo-like looks! So nineteenth century! Old fashioned! Outdated! Nino would NEVER dump me for him, right?

Alya: Nino looks way better btw. Just so you know!

Marinette laughed. Who said she was the overdramatic one in their duo? Alya could easily give her and Chat Noir a run for their money in that department.

Marinette: Sorry, got distracted by cooking.

Marinette: Also, I wouldn’t be so sure about Nino not dumping you for Adrien. They used to be attached at the hip and now he’s feeling all guilty and sad and wants to fix everything. What if Adrien demands marriage?

Alya: Don’t even joke about that. I already invested too much in that man and I’m not giving him up to some CEO of a fashion empire. He can go jump off a cliff. I’ll fight for my man until my last breath.

Marinette: And here I thought you were ready to dump him for me.

Alya: …

Alya: True.

Alya: OTL You’re making it HARD, girl.

Marinette: When did I make it easy for you?

Alya: T_T Why am I still in this relationship?

Marinette: Because you love me more than anyone in this world apart from Nino?

Alya: Can’t blame me for that. Have you seen the man?

Marinette: LOL No blame here. You two are cute.

Alya: :thumbs-up:

Alya: Seriously, though, what do you think about the whole Adrien/Nino thing?

Marinette: I’m fine with it. I don’t think I’ll be plunging in there myself anytime soon but I don’t see why Nino shouldn’t.

Alya: Are you sure?

Marinette: Yes, I’m sure. I’m a grown-ass woman, Alya. I can be civil.

Alya: Okay. If you say so, but if you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know. We’ll figure out something.

Marinette: Will do. Have to go now. My meat is going to burn if I don’t give it my undivided attention.

Alya: See U later, girl.

Quickly firing off her farewell, Marinette got to her cooking, stirring, cutting, seasoning, and tasting. Trying to push thoughts of Adrien out of her mind because, as nice as being noticed felt, she couldn’t get any closer to him. She wasn’t a fool or a teenager anymore. Marinette knew exactly what was going on, fully realized what she was feeling.

She didn’t like it.

She spent years despising even the name of Adrien Agreste, someone who, even if unintentionally, was the cause of the biggest hurt she’d ever experienced. She spent the same amount of time being in love with Chat Noir, her loyal partner and the most important person in her life. How could she allow her old crush on Adrien surface at all, least of all so quickly after he’d reappeared in her life? It wasn’t fair.

Not to her.

Not to Chat Noir.

Especially not to Chat Noir, who had waited years for her. Marinette couldn’t fall in love with her former enemy just when a romantic relationship with Chat Noir had finally become a possibility.

She had to do something.

“Knock, knock,” Chat Noir called from the living room. “Are there any princesses in this tower? A handsome knight has come to entertain them with his awesomeness in exchange for a slice of bread.”

“In the kitchen,” Marinette shouted.

“That smells delicious,” Chat appeared behind her, peeking above her shoulder at the pot. “What are we cooking, Princess?”

Marinette couldn’t hide a smile. Princess. His old nickname for her had resurfaced recently. She missed it more than she had realized. She loved it way more than she would ever admit. “Boeuf Bourguignon.”

Chat inhaled the aroma with the most reverent expression on his face. “You’re spoiling this cat rotten.”

“I’m only paying my rent, Chat. Nice meals for a nice apartment. ‘An equal exchange’. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I see you finally watched one of my recommendations?”

“I didn’t have time for that yet, but you’ve been quoting it so much, it was impossible for me not to remember.”

“See? I’m a good influence on you.” He grinned. “Need help?”

“Bread, if you don’t mind.”

“When have I ever?” he replied, washing his hands. “I like helping you. You make it seem so easy. I might even pick up a thing or two and not send myself to a hospital next time I try to cook by myself.”

“Maybe I should teach you then.”

“Maybe you should.”

Marinette smiled, putting the finishing touches on their dishes. “Then maybe I will.”

“I’d be forever grateful,” he practically purred, finishing slicing the bread. “How was your day? Anything fun or interesting I should be aware of?”

Marinette stilled, but composed herself a moment later. Avoid mentioning Adrien at all costs. Talk about anything but him. “Felix had a short day. He ditched me before lunch and never came back.”

“Rude. He should be punished.”

“I can’t punish him. He’s doing more work than I do, and he’s my boss’ relative, and he’s the reason you're about to eat a dish that took me almost three hours to prepare, so don’t complain. You should be thanking him instead.”

Chat let out a puff, bringing a bowl filled with bread to the dining table. “What for? Being a weirdo? He’s there to help you with your work, not make you uncomfortable. So despite all of your objections, I still maintain that if he won’t scale back on his antics, you should kick his butt to the curb.”

“Actually, he’s been getting very good at respecting my boundaries lately,” Marinette confessed as she set their meals down. “And even when he doesn’t… How to explain? The way he does all of his weird things… he’s so sincere and polite about it that it’s kind of endearing in a way.”

Chat’s eyebrows knitted into a frown. “So, you like it now?”

“More like I don’t mind it so much now.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Alright. Then, I guess it’s fine?”

Marinette smiled. “Yes. It’s fine. Weird, but fine. Now, let’s eat. Boeuf Bourguignon is most delicious when it’s still steaming.”

Chat grinned, plopped on a chair and focused his gaze on the bowl in front of him. His eyes sparkled and he grabbed his fork excitedly. “Yes, ma’am! Itadakimasu!”

Marinette chuckled, sitting down as well. “Itadakimasu,” she echoed, starting on her meal. “How was your day?”

“I had lunch with an amazing person,” Chat said, his mouth full. “An old friend of mine, but we’d lost contact for a few years, so I thought lunch would be a good place to catch up. Was very nice to see she’s just as awesome as I remember her.”

She?

Marinette’s chest tightened. Her Chaton was having lunch with a girl whom he considered to be awesome and amazing while avoiding Ladybug at the same time? Yes, avoiding. There was no other explanation for what was going on in their superhero life at that moment.

Ever since Ladybug had returned to her duties, she hadn’t seen much of Chat Noir. The few times she managed to spot him, he acted skittish and distant and eager to escape as fast as he could. To her inquiry on his absences, he answered that he was making his patrols but headed home right after because of the late hours and early mornings he had. Ladybug believed him. She had no reason not to trust Chat. She thought that he was probably still mourning for his relative, and showing it only to Ladybug because only Ladybug knew about that aspect of his life.

Now, however, Marinette wasn’t so sure anymore. Her heart clenched, breathing quickening, as thoughts of Chat’s date attacked her very core. Was he avoiding his partner because he didn’t love her anymore? Or was he avoiding her because he felt guilty for being attracted to someone else, just as she found herself moping over being attracted to Adrien?

She composed herself and asked. “Is that so? Someone with potential?”

“Potential? Potential for what?” Chat blinked at her, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth.

“Potential for a romantic relationship,” Marinette explained. “Someone you would be interested in dating?”

“Dating?” Chat frowned, letting a moment slowly drift by before he shook his head. “No. She’s just a friend. You know I love Ladybug, Marinette. Why would you ask such a question?”

She let a breath out, closing her eyes for a moment. Unnecessary panic. She hadn’t lost him yet. Though, she might need to do something about it sooner rather than later because Chat Noir had been waiting for her for an absurdly long time already. And now he suddenly started to talk about an amazing, awesome person in his life. Who could guarantee that he’d be willing to wait for her much longer instead of falling in love with whoever-she-was instead?

Marinette looked back at him, childishly enjoying his meal while telling her all about his day and this amazing friend of his. She loved him. She really did. And she was holding off on him only because her life was a mess. It wasn’t anymore, though. It had gotten so much better in these last few months. Why should she continue to hold back and risk losing him?

She shouldn’t.

Her eyes widened.

That would solve all of her problems. If she were to date Chat Noir, Marinette would receive all the attention she craved from him and wouldn’t be attracted to other men. She’d give Chat all of her love and there would be none left for someone else. Adrien wouldn’t be able to make her heart stutter just by smiling at her or make her blush with an innocent wink. Chat deserved that. Plus, after years of loyally loving her, Chat Noir had more rights than anyone else to have her love and devotion.

Marinette let a smile tug at the corner of her lips. It really was the perfect solution. She’d only have to be careful going about it, considering the way Chat was acting around Ladybug lately. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She knew her Chaton and for him to avoid Ladybug, something had to be horribly wrong.

Marinette took a sip of water, observing her partner. A moment later, it all came together, just like one of her lucky charms she hadn’t used in a while.

“Say Chat,” she started carefully as soon as he’d stopped talking. “We’re friends, right?”

He grinned. “Of course, we are.”

“And as my friend, you’d tell me if there was something bothering you or you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

Marinette sighed. “You know how my best friend runs the Ladyblog?”

“Alya Césaire?”

“Yes. Alya. She shared a concern with me a few days ago, and I wanted to ask you about it, but it could possibly be a very private issue.”

He shrugged. “Ask away. I’m fine with you asking me anything except my identity.”

“Why have you been avoiding Ladybug?”

Chat stared at her in shock, his cat ears slowly falling down against his hair. “I… Why would you think I’m avoiding Ladybug?”

“That’s just what Alya concluded based on your reported activity and sightings. When Ladybug was absent for a little over a week, you patrolled every night. But when she returned, you’ve been scarcely seen… and last week, you didn’t patrol at all.”

He looked away, whispering. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Marinette stood up and, walking over to him, crouched by his side and laid her hand on top of his. “Chat, whatever it is, don’t you think it’ll be easier if you share it with someone? Anything is easier to carry with a friend. I should know that by now.”

His eyes filled with worry and sadness. He watched her for a full minute before whispering, “Not if that ‘something’ might cause me to lose her.”

She squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture. “You’ll never lose her, Chat. You’ve been partners for so long. Probably went through a lot together. You’re two halves of a whole. You’ll never lose her. She loves you. She’ll understand whatever it is.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You’ll lose her faster if you keep avoiding her,” Marinette added. “Don’t you think she’s noticed? Can you even imagine what’s going through her head as she’s trying to figure out why her partner suddenly doesn’t want to see her anymore?”

His eyes wide, he stared at Marinette. “I… I didn’t think about it that way.”

“You don’t have to tell her details, but you have to talk to her and figure this out, or you risk losing her trust and that is the most difficult thing to fix… if it’s possible at all.”

He bowed his head, gripping his hair with his hands. “You don’t understand, Marinette. It’s something big. Really big! I… I wouldn’t even know how to start. I mean how do you tell your partner that the enemy you fought together for ten years was your father!”

Her eyes bulging, Marinette froze, goosebumps running down her skin.

Chat abruptly stopped speaking, staring at her in horror. “No! I—didn’t mean… That’s not what I meant. Hawkmoth—he isn’t—” Chat dropped his head back into his hands and groaned. “Please, don’t hate me. I didn’t know until a few weeks ago.”

Her heart racing, Marinette watched him in shock. His father? Hawkmoth was Chat Noir’s father?

“Your father?” she echoed as if in a trance.

“Was,” Chat whispered into his hands. “He passed away recently.”

Marinette flinched but shook the thought away. “Passed? You didn’t…”

Chat shook his head. “Stroke. I found out about him being Hawkmoth only after he’d been dead for a while.”

Marinette swallowed, unable to stop staring at him. How awful that must have been to discover. She couldn’t even imagine how she’d feel, what she’d do if her father ended up being Hawkmoth. If any of her relatives or friends were to be revealed as the villain who’d terrorized the city for years. No wonder Chat had been acting so strange around Ladybug. He must have felt terrible. Really, how could he tell Ladybug something like that?

Lost for words, Marinette did the only thing she could think of—she pulled him closer and wrapped her partner in a tight embrace, whispering in the crook of his neck, “I’m so sorry.”

His breathing hitched, Chat tensed at the contact, but when she tugged him even closer, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Marinette, clinging to her as if she were his lifeline.

“I should’ve known.” His voice trembled. “He was a horrible human being.”

“Still, that must have been awful to discover.”

Chat barely breathed. “Devastating.”

They stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes, silently taking comfort in one another. His breathing, ragged and erratic at first, normalized as Chat slowly relaxed. When his grip on her eased, Marinette hesitantly pulled away to take his face in her hands. He still held her in his arms, searching her face for something, looking for the answer to a question. An answer he dreaded receiving.

“You’re not your father,” Marinette said, looking at him. “Neither he nor his actions, define who you are.”

Chat let out a sigh of relief, his eyes closing with it. “Thank you.”

“And you need to tell Ladybug. She knows you. She will understand and help you get through this.”

His eyes still closed, Chat shook his head. “Not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever be ready, Chat. I don’t think anyone can ever be ready to disclose something like that, but tell me, do you trust her? Do you trust Ladybug?”

“With my life,” he whispered.

“Then tell her. Tell her everything. Tell her about your father. Tell her you love her. Everything. If you truly trust her, you know she’ll understand and won’t judge you. She’d want you to tell her so she can help you get through this. Am I wrong?”

His gaze falling to the ground, Chat thought for a few moments before looking back at Marinette. “You’re probably right. I should tell her.”

“You should.”

“And I will.”

“Tonight.”

“Tonig—What? Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” Marinette nodded. “Don’t delay any longer. The longer you put this off, the harder it’ll be to do. So, just go out there and tell her.”

He blinked a few times, staring at her, then let a smile sneak onto his lips. “Okay. I will. Tonight. I’ll tell her everything.”

Marinette gave him a smile and pulled him back into a hug. Her poor Chaton. He’d been through a lot. His problems were so much bigger than hers, and she’d been too wrapped up in her own mess to notice that he’d been slowly falling apart. No more. She wouldn’t allow that. Marinette would put her partner first for once and she would give him all the love he deserved.

Tonight.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ML #chat noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #the other you

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #444

“the monster you made is wearing the crown / i’ll be the king, and you’ll be the clown”

Do you take off from school, or work for your birthday? Ha, I used to try to talk Mom into letting me stay home from school... It only sometimes worked. Have you ever created ‘open when’ letters for someone? No. That'd be cute for an s/o, though. What is the best thing about being in the relationship you’re in right now or about being single? Not having to fear my partner leaving because of the struggles I'm going through. Not having to worry about not being enough for another person, because I'm not even enough for myself. Do you have a favourite painting? Not by a historical artist, no, but there is a piece by a deviantART artist called "Denialism" (by NukeRooster/Tatchit, if you're interested) that I adore so much I've actually gotten her permission to get it tattooed one day when I can afford a brilliant artist to do it. What are some of the best life hacks you know? /shrug What makes you smile without fail? MARK LAUGHING laj;sdkafjwlk;erj Do you know what you’ll be getting your loved ones for the holidays this winter? No clue. That's still a whiles off. What is your biggest short-term goal (within the next month)? Just lose a decent amount of weight for a month's time. What will your next tattoo be of? It depends on what cash I have available, really. As much as it sucks, I think my next tat is a whiles off because I just have more pressing things to pay for. Has anyone very close to you ever died? Besides pets, the closest human to me that's ever died was Jason's mom. If you were throwing your significant other/best friend a themed party, what would the theme be? Uh, Frieza-related, obviously. Do you feel prepared for the apocalypse? I don't believe in the apocalypse in the biblical sense of it being determined by an ultimate power, so this isn't something I really think about. Whenever humanity ends, it ends. I don't have a say, so I may as well not obsess over it. Do you think you will have children naturally, adopt, or forgo having children altogether? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I know that either I'd have to give birth to them or my hypothetical wife would for me to feel *properly* connected to them as a mother should. Oh, or if my male partner had a kid from a previous relationship, but I'd have to be REALLY in love with him to feel like that child is also my own. Do you take pictures of yourself on a daily basis? Oh god no. Do you believe in angels? No, but rather just spirits. Is there anything in your past that you used to regret, but now you don’t? Hm, maybe? Does your knee hurt? My knees always hurt. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Yes. Do you like raisins? omg nooooo What is your favorite bug? Butterflies! :') Do you like Scrabble? Sure, it's fun for a board game. Do you have a printer? Yes. What is your favorite food? Cheeseburgers or pizza, probably. I know, so American. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Yes. Do you like ants? They are very fascinating when you really think about it, but I still find them incredibly annoying. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. Have you ever drank goat milk? No, I don't believe so. What’s your favorite video game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Do you like cats? I love kitties!!! :') Are goldfish your favorite fish? No. I think my favorite is probably the lionfish. Do you like vanilla pudding? No. I only like chocolate pudding. What is your opinion on gay marriage? I 100% support it and would fight to the death for it. What is your opinion on gay adoption? Don't even fucking look at me if you see a problem with a parentless child finding a home with two people in love. Who was the last person you had a crush on? Sara. What’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own? I have zero clue. Why do you drive the car you have right now? I don't have my own car. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Omg yes and it sucks. Are you friends with your neighbors? No. What is your current desktop picture? One of my favorite pictures of my late pup, Teddy. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains! Does your neighbor have any pets? *shrug* Have you ever swam in a mountain lake? No, but that sounds VIBIN'. Has a cat/dog ever thrown up on your bed? alksdjflk;a;jdfalwe yes Have you ever had a concussion? One or two. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Not currently, I think? I want a fat-tailed gecko, though. :( Would you ever go bear hunting? I wouldn't dare hunt ANY animal. Have you ever seen two movies at the theater in a row? I have not. How many teenagers do you know who have babies? I know no teen personally that has a child, but there were some pregnant students in high school. If you could keep your parents or trade them for other parents, which would you pick? I would NEVER change my parents. Is there a piggy bank in the room you’re in? It's not a "piggy" bank, per se, but my sister got me a skull one that she says is for my tattoo funds. :') How many sets of twins do you know? Two, off the very top of my head. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? Yes. No one fucks with her for as long as I live. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not especially. Who is your favorite Disney Channel person? Uhhh, maybe Raven Symone? How many pets do you have? Just two. Do you think you will be successful in life? No. :/ What do you have pierced? My earlobes, twice, and my bottom lip. I have been dyinnnnggg for some new ones lately. :/ Does techno annoy you as much as it annoys me? No, I actually enjoy quite a bit of techno. What’s your comfort food? Ice cream. Do you like paranormal stuff? YES. Do you have a favorite stuffed toy? Rebel, my adorable meerkat plush from Jason, and Brownie, my moose from Cabela's. What’s the most exciting project you were given? In a way, my senior project since you got to choose your own topic, but I dreaded the presentation. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not at ALL. What are your favorite colour for a cat? Orange! If you had to live your life carrying a shield, what would its design be? This is gonna sound super, super cheesy, but probably a heart to symbolize how love should and could block the effects of hate and general evil and that we should pursue that instead of violence. Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Oh god, they all do. If I had to pick one though, it'd be one of the inevitably fatal kinds, like pancreatic. What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? I feel accomplished for actually reading to a story's completion. How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? Two, I think? What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink. Have you ever built a sand castle? Yeah. How many houses have you lived in? Six. One I have no memory of. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth? Yes. What video game should everybody play at least once? Amnesia: A Machine for PIgs for the symbolism. It blows my mind how most horror fans hate it; it's like they totally miss the point. 100 years from now, what modern things will people look back on and say, “WTF?” Hopefully things like homophobia, racism, misogyny, concepts like those. What is impossible to understand until it happens to you? Mental illness, to name only one thing. What fictional food item from a television show, cartoon, movie, or video game have you always wanted to try? Hm. There's a lot that has looked super good, really. What’s something that gets much more hate than it deserves? Nickelback, lmao. What phrases or sayings drive you crazy? "Everything happens for a reason," "it could be worse/some people have it worse," "it's all part of God's plan," "just think positive"... a lot of stuff. Do you have a deviantART? I do, even though Eclipse made it fucking suck. I only really stay because I cling to the dying hope of being at least somewhat successful on there, and I enjoy keeping tabs on the artwork of the hundreds of people I watch there. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa, even if he doesn't last long in the movie. :''''''( Have you ever been to Germany? No, but I'd love to! What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. Have you ever been ice skating? No. The blades on the skates scare me. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Do you have any nieces or nephews? I have a lot, if you include my half-siblings' kids. Do you own an Xbox? Nah, I've always been a PlayStation gal. Would you date someone who’s well-known for cheating? Nope. Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? No. I'd consider their reasons, but ultimately, it's about me loving the person. Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yeah, sure. It's not ideal, but I mean if the other person is just very opposed, I'm certainly not forcing them. Emotional intimacy is more important to me, anyway. Have you ever been “friendzoned”? Yep. :') Briefly, anyway. Jason tried for my sake, but it was VERY short-lived by no one's fault but my own because all I know how to do is fuck shit up when it comes to him. Which “famous couple” is your favorite? LOOK Mark and Amy are FUCKIN GEMS Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Pretty fucking much. Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? I'm submissive by nature. Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? No, I think it's a cute holiday. Which do you feel is worse of the two to smoke: weed or tobacco? Well, weed has more carcinogens, but at least it has actual health benefits. Who did you last see that you haven’t seen in ages? *shrug* Are you photogenic at all? God no.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''necessary evil'' by motionless in white (ft. jonathan davis)

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smileyfics · 4 years

Text

Say ‘Iron Man’

Hi everyone! It’s been a while since I posted but I’m back with another fic. I don't know if its any good but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. Please let me know what you think :) Enjoy!

Fandom: MCU

Characters: Tony and Peter

Warnings: A lot of angst at the beginning and fluff at the end haha. Fighting.

Summary: Peter is mad about how Tony handled something, and they get into a fight. But eventually the fighting becomes more playful and less serious.

Words: 2,038

“I can’t believe you did that!” Peter walked into Tony’s lab, throwing his backpack down in a rage. Tony didn’t turn from his work, he was expecting Peter to come in sooner or later. Aunt May had been concerned about the amount of time Peter had been spending Avenging, his grades had been slipping and he seemed exhausted and burnt out every time he came home; but Peter didn’t care, he loved being an Avenger and he loved being Spider-Man. So, he asked Tony to go over to his apartment and talk to her, he thought that speaking with Iron Man himself would help Aunt May understand that what he was doing was so much more important than high school or sleep.

But their conversation didn’t have the outcome Peter had been expecting. Seeing Tony ignore him, he walked right next to his table, waiting for him to turn and deal with his betrayal.

“What the hell, man?” Peter shocked himself, he never talked to Mr. Stark that way, and he could have sworn he saw the famous Tony Stark suppressing a smirk. Without looking up from his work Tony began,

“Peter, can we talk about this later? I’m in a bit of a hurry here.”

“No, we can’t talk about this later!” Peter fumed, “I sent you there to tell Aunt May that she was wrong, not to agree with her.” Stark stayed looking at his work, but paused for a minute,

“You sent me?” Tony just eyeballed the kid, wondering who the hell he thought he was, “Well, kid, I didn’t expect to agree with her. You told me she didn’t think you were ready to be an Avenger for no reason. But she has many, doesn’t she Peter?” He began working again,

“But-”

“School is important, your health is important. And you know what, we’ve had this problem before,” Tony pointed at Peter, reminded of how he acted when he was new to being Spider-Man, “You need to calm down. Let’s talk about this later.”

Peter was pissed. ‘Let’s talk about this later,’ was playing over and over in his head. Why is it that both of them are treating him like some dumb kid? Fury seemed to think he could handle it, but not Mr. Stark? The man who recruited him in the first place?

“I wanna talk about it now. Why don’t you trust me enough to handle this?” Tony ignored him.

“Mr. Stark.” Nothing. “What, I can only be an Avenger when it benefits you? Because you didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it before.” Nothing. Peter was goading him, he knew he would probably be in trouble for acting like such a brat, but frankly he didn’t care. He was too angry at Tony for betraying him and then not even having the nerve to talk about it.

“MR. STARK!” When Tony still didn’t reply, Peter was starting to feel very out of control in this whole situation, and it didn’t sit well with him. He walked up to Tony and shoved his shoulder, forcing him to spin away from the table to look at him, fully expecting himself to yell at the man, but in actuality ending up completely frozen in shock by his own behavior. Tony simply looked back and crossed his arms, not expecting this outburst but not fully surprised by it either. He was waiting to see where this was going.

“What was that about, Parker? Wanna try that again?”

Peter just stared blankly back at him, shaking his head slightly. He wasn’t sure if Tony was trying to escalate or de-escalate the situation, but he didn’t like that he seemed so much more in control of himself than Peter did. But Tony continued,

“Come on. You’re mad right? You can fight an alien army but not me? Throw a punch, let’s go.”

Some of the shock was fading away, allowing some of the anger to return. How dare Tony put the blame on him when this was entirely his fault. Tony was the one who didn’t take his side with Aunt May, and he was the one that didn’t want to talk about it. But Peter hadn’t meant to push him, he was just upset.

“Forget it.” Peter mumbled as he turned to leave the lab.

“That’s what I thought,” was Tony’s reply as he went back to his lab table.

Peter stopped, his temper getting the better of him again as he turned back around and swung a right hook directly at the famous Tony Stark’s face. But Tony was fast, he was used to much more serious battles than fights with a 16-year-old, and quickly blocked it. Peter reset, deciding to throw a kick instead that Tony may not be able to stop as easily. He would be wrong. Tony managed to grab Peters shoe before it hit him and pull it towards him, causing peter to fall backwards onto the mat below him. He hit the floor with a thud, and a slightly bemused look on his face. He really didn’t know what he was thinking, how was he going to win a fight against actual Iron Man, even though he wasn’t in his suit, he knew how to fight. It really wasn’t fair. Tony held onto Peter’s legs with one arm and held up a finger.

“I hope you got that out of your system, Peter.” Peter glared at him but continued to listen. Being forced to stay lying on the floor was causing some of his previous rage to dissipate. Though it also irritated him greatly. Tony continued, “I understand why you’re upset, but Aunt May is right. Catch up on school and start taking better care of yourself, then we can have this conversation again.” Peter was avoiding Tony’s gaze, a little ashamed of his reaction, but still upset with how Tony took May’s side over his.

“Mr. Stark, you told me you were on my side. I wouldn’t have asked you to go if I’d thought you’d agree with Aunt May. It’s not fair.”

“Peter.” Tony gave him the look that always made him shut up immediately, “I already told you, I didn’t plan to agree with her. I didn’t know how bad it was for you.”

“But Mr. Sta-”

“And I AM on your side.” Tony interrupted, “that’s why I’m doing this.” Seeing that he’d calmed down, Tony let Peter go and studied him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. He sincerely hoped that Peter understood. He knew he was angry, but also knew that the Peter wouldn’t have tried to fight with him if he didn’t trust him, which he was relieved about.

“Why don’t you start out by having some fun tonight, instead of worrying about saving the world, okay kid?” he quickly tapped Peter’s knee and began to stand up. Peter sat up, more upset than angry now. Of course Tony was on his side, he had always somehow shown up when he needed him most. Deep down he knew that, but that didn’t make not being allowed to be Spider-Man for a while any easier.

“Are you… mad at me, Mr. Stark?” Peter felt like a little kid again asking that question, and his cheeks burned a little red; but if Tony noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“No, I’m not mad, kiddo.” Tony decided to sit back down on the floor, beside Peter this time. He playfully shoved his shoulder, “But you know, I don’t know anybody else who would dare pull that little stunt on me. I could have put on my suit and it would be over for you.”

Peter smiled a little at that, relieved that he didn’t seem to be in any trouble (Well, any more trouble than he was already in with May). Tony seemed to be trying to lighten the mood, and he wanted Peter to have some fun… which gave him an idea. Tony didn’t seem to be particularly on guard, so Peter took the opportunity to swing his leg and knock Tony off balance before pinning him to the ground with his arms.

“I would say ‘bet’ but you’re probably too old to know what that means.” Peter smirked and tony scoffed. Peter was a little beside himself, he had just gotten into a physical fight with Tony and was incredibly lucky that he wasn’t angry with him- maybe he was pushing it. Tony took this momentary distraction as an opportunity, he wrapped his legs around petters and turned, flipping them over so he was now the one pinning Peter to the ground. The teen’s jaw dropped, he was not expecting to get in a wrestling match with Tony when he came here today. But then again, he also wasn’t expecting anything that happened that day, maybe his mentor just wasn’t very predictable.

“Would I be able to do that if I was so ‘old,’ as you say?”

“Well you’re not that type of old,” was Peter’s reply, to which Tony just stared and chuckled lightly, “What does that even mean, Pete?”

Peter didn’t answer as he rolled backwards, trying to break the grip Tony had on his forearms, but only succeeded in getting himself stuck in a worse position than before. Tony let go of his arms and took advantage of his off balanced position to quickly knock him on his side. Tony reached for the kid’s arm, thinking he could easily win this fight, but Peter had some acrobatic skills that Tony lacked. Peter flipped over and was able to pin Tony on his stomach, sitting on his back and pulling one hand up between his shoulder blades. He’d done stuff like this with Ned before, but Tony was more skilled at it than Ned and therefore Peter was very proud of himself for making it to this point.

“Say uncle,” Peter said, grinning a little to smugly.

“HA! No way am I surrendering to you, kid.” Tony responded confidently, though he was impressed that Peter had succeeded at pinning him- and causing ever increasing pain to his shoulder. Unbeknownst to Peter though, Tony had been in this situation before and knew how to get out of it. He rolled onto his side, throwing Peter off balance and used his previously pinned wrist to grab onto Peter’s. It took some maneuvering, but he eventually got Peter facing the opposite direction, with his arm and shoulder being held down by Tony. He wiggled around trying to get free but moving just made it worse.

“OKAY OKAY!! UNCLE!” Peter shouted, getting desperate to get out of the uncomfortable hold. Tony considered it. “Uncle? I’m not just some uncle, I am Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire-”

“Playboy philanthropist- I know! Let me up!” Peter interrupted desperately with a shout.

“Interrupting is rude.” Tony chided, “Say Iron Man, and I’ll let you go.” His shoulder was starting to hurt too bad to argue, so Peter complied.

“IRON MAN!” He yelled, and Tony let him go. He quickly pulled his arm in and cradled it, briefly wondering if it would ever be the same again, before he turned to his back and began rolling out his shoulder. He beamed at Tony,

“You’re such a jerk.” He laughed slightly, amused by the whole situation.

“You know it. There’s ice in the kitchen for that arm if you need it.” Tony helped him up and ruffled the kid’s hair, to which Peter slightly flinched away from, it was bad enough he beat him in their wrestling match, did he have to ruffle his hair too?

Peter rolled his eyes and went to grab his backpack, “You didn’t hurt me that badly, old man.” Tony made his way back to the lab table to finish his work, and looked pointedly at Peter,

“You’ll pay for that one. Now go home and get your homework done,” he said jokingly. Peter headed for the stairs, wanting to get some ice for his shoulder without Tony knowing about it, and his mentor yelled after him,

“And get some sleep, you crazy kid.”

Peter left the Avengers compound with a bag of ice and a smile on his face.

#marvel #fanfic #fic #peter parker #tony stark #iron man #irondad #spiderson #wrestling #play fighting #angst #fluff #mcu #avengers #avengers fic #not sure what else to tag #i hope you like it

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